Edestone went up to his apartment and issued his instructions to James, his valet.
“Send Mr. Black and Mr. Stanton to me at once. Then fix my bath, send for the barber, and lay out my clothes. I am going out to tea”—he paused—“with His Majesty, King George V. of England,” while he enjoyed the effect on his snobbish English servant.
“Mr. Black,” he said when his electrician and operating man came in, “will you and Mr. Stanton go to Grosvenor Square and bring over the boxes with the apparatus and films. They will have to be back here by 3:15, as there will be an officer of the Royal Household here at that time. Go with him to Buckingham Palace and install the instrument and screen where he directs you; then wait there until you hear from me.”
While he was dressing and being shaved he ran over in his mind what he should say to the King. He knew that either Rockstone or Underhill had engineered this audience, and he wondered whether it foreboded good or evil. At any rate it was progress, and that was all-important.
Colonel Stewart had certainly been most cordial, and the fact that he was to meet the King without the delay of presenting credentials through the American Embassy, rather argued that England felt the necessity for prompt action.
The barber almost cut his ear off when James came to announce the fact than an officer of the Royal Household was downstairs and that Mr. Black and Mr. Stanton had returned from Grosvenor Square with the apparatus and films, and when Edestone stopped him long enough to say through the lather: “Tell Mr. Black that I will be at the Palace and shall want everything in readiness by 4:30 at the latest,” the man gave such a start that he almost dropped the shaving mug. He set it down with a bang on the marble washbasin.
“I go,” he said. “My nose bleeds. I will send you another barber.” And he rushed out of the room.
“What is the matter, James?” exclaimed Edestone indignantly. “Why didn’t you insist on their sending up the head barber instead of that fool? Come finish this thing up yourself, I can’t wait.” Recovering his equanimity he added: “Time flies and the King waits.”
James, who in his time had valeted princes, after he had finished shaving him and had turned him out as only a well-trained English valet can, glanced with satisfaction at his work. “I think, sir, when His Majesty sees you, sir, he will ask, sir, who is your tailor, sir. A buttonhole, sir?”
And so with a light step and buoyant spirit the American went down, when word came up that Colonel Stewart had called for him.