“It is an order,” he said in a quick aside, “bestowed only upon men of world-wide fame. I dined to-night,” he explained, “with your charming compatriot, Mr. Joseph Stimson.”
“And Joe told?” said Peter.
The prince nodded. “Joe told,” he repeated; “but it is all arranged. Your distinguished friend, the Sage of Stillwater, will receive the Crescent of the third class.”
Peter's eyes were still fastened hungrily upon the diamond sunburst.
“Why,” he demanded, “can't some one get him one like that?”
As though about to take offense the prince raised his eyebrows, and then thought better of it and smiled.
“There are only two men in all Turkey,” he said, “who could do that.”
“And is the Sultan the other one?” asked Peter. The prince gasped as though he had suddenly stepped beneath a cold shower, and then laughed long and silently.
“You flatter me,” he murmured.
“You know you could if you liked!” whispered Peter stoutly.