He blew a whistle, summoning a comrade who suddenly appeared from nowhere.
“Notify Captain Bright,” he directed; then, in response to Edestone’s good-humoured but slightly sarcastic protests: “I’m sorry, sir, but those are my orders.”
“Has England declared war on the United States?” said Edestone.
“I don’t know, sir,” the sentry grinned. “We seem to be taking on all comers.” Then standing at attention, he waited until the soldier, who had returned from telephoning, came forward to announce that the Captain presented his apologies and would be right up.
A moment later Captain Bright himself came panting down the corridor. He expressed profound regret that any inconvenience should have been caused, but explained, as Colonel Stewart had already done, that he was held personally responsible for Edestone’s safety, and had instructions to accompany him wherever he might go.
“Very well, Captain; I bow to the inevitable. May I trouble you to conduct me to the dining-room?” And he strolled toward the lift at the side of the tall cavalryman.
But in the office they encountered Rebener himself writing a note on the back of his card.
“Oh, there you are, Jack?” he hailed Edestone. “I was just sending you a note asking you if you wouldn’t come and dine with me at the Britz instead of here. It is too damn stupid here. Not that it’s very bright anywhere in London at present, but at least there’s a little bit more life at the Britz.”
“Who is stopping here anyhow? Royalty?” he interrupted himself. “There are soldiers all over the place.”
“Yes; I am the recipient of that little attention,” laughed the young American. “Let me introduce Captain Bright here, who is acting as my especial chaperon.”