“Not only I, Your Majesty, but the whole of America....”
His eyes measured me with sympathy.
“Pardon me, but I don’t believe it. The whole of America! Well, in that case they simply don’t understand what law is—do you hear, Marquis, the whole of America! But that’s not the thing. I must return, Wondergood. You’ve heard what the poor devils write?”
“I am happy to see that the road is open for you, my lord.”
“Open? You think so? Hm! No, I need money. Some write and others don’t, you understand?”
“Perhaps they don’t know how to write, my lord?”
“They? Oh! You should have seen what they wrote against me. I was quite flustered. What they need is the firing squad.”
“All of them?”
“Why all of them? Some of them will be enough. The rest of them will simply be scared to death. You understand, Wondergood, they have simply stolen my power from me and now, of course, will simply refuse to return it. You can’t expect me to see to it that no one robs me. And these gentlemen,”—he indicated the blushing Marquis—“to my sorrow did not manage to guard my interests.”
The Marquis mumbled confusedly: