“I have,” he returned with emphasis—“My kingdom is a vast one.”
“You are a ruling power then?” I exclaimed with some astonishment—“Yours is not a title of honour only?”
“Oh, as your rules of aristocracy go, it is a mere title of honour”—he replied quickly—“When I say that my kingdom is a vast one, I mean that I rule wherever men obey the influence of wealth. From this point of view, am I wrong in calling my kingdom vast?—is it not almost boundless?”
“I perceive you are a cynic,”—I said—“Yet surely you believe that there are some things wealth cannot buy,—honour and virtue for example?”
He surveyed me with a whimsical smile.
“I suppose honour and virtue do exist—” he answered—“And when they are existent of course they cannot be bought. But my experience has taught me that I can always buy everything. The sentiments called honour and virtue by the majority of men are the most shifty things imaginable,—set sufficient cash down, and they become bribery and corruption in the twinkling of an eye! Curious—very curious. I confess I found a case of unpurchaseable integrity once, but only once. I may find it again, though I consider the chance a very doubtful one. Now to revert to myself, pray do not imagine I am playing the humbug with you or passing myself off under a bogus title. I am a bona-fide prince, [p 30] believe me, and of such descent as none of your oldest families can boast,—but my dominions are long since broken up and my former subjects dispersed among all nations,—anarchy, nihilism, disruption and political troubles generally, compel me to be rather reticent concerning my affairs. Money I fortunately have in plenty,—and with that I pave my way. Some day when we are better acquainted, you shall know more of my private history. I have various other names and titles besides that on my card—but I keep to the simplest of them, because most people are such bunglers at the pronunciation of foreign names. My intimate friends generally drop my title, and call me Lucio simply.”
“That is your christian name—?” I began.
“Not at all—I have no ‘christian’ name,”—he interrupted swiftly and with anger—“There is no such thing as ‘christian’ in my composition!”
He spoke with such impatience that for a moment I was at a loss for a reply. At last—
“Indeed!” I murmured vaguely.