But the young lady who received the visitors asked me what I wanted to see him about. I replied, "On business." She said, "He is very busy." I asked, "Is he too busy to attend to business?" "Well," she answered, "I don't believe he could see you."
I responded, "Say, my young lady, I am an American citizen, a stranger in a strange land. I am among a people who are not particularly friendly, as I have already learned. They are the bosses over here. I am expecting to be about in this country somewhat, and I feel I have a right to be known by the American Minister. If anything happens to me, I want him to be able to identify me. Our diplomatic officers are sent here by the United States, paid by the people, to look after our interests, and our traveling citizens, and then when we come here the secretary says he cannot see us. Why is it?"
This evidently made some impression, for she said finally, "Well, if you will come back in the afternoon, I suppose you can see him."
I went away then, saying, "I certainly expect to see him." In the afternoon I did. I found Mr. Whitlock the most genial man in the world. He had plenty of time to be civil and obliging and to chat a while, although I did not abuse the privilege. I told him I wanted him to know me, and I delivered the letters. As I left he stamped my passport and said, "Come in again when you can, Mr. Benson." I had occasion to do so—before long.
CHAPTER XXVI MY MAPS OF BELGIUM
On leaving Mr. Whitlock I went down town and engaged a room at a little private hotel for the duration of my stay in Brussels. One day shortly afterwards, while I was sitting in a café of the little hotel, a neighbor of the proprietor came in and I was introduced to him. He was a very likable fellow, and we had a half hour's pleasant chat, at least it was pleasant for me. I am not so sure it was as pleasant for him, for I was certainly an artist at butchering up the King's French.
As he arose to go out he bid me au revoir and stopped for a moment to speak confidentially to the madame who ran the place. After he had departed she told me that the man was a regular customer of theirs who lived down the street, and that he was a printer by trade. His particular line of printing was that of map making, and he had told the landlady that he would like to make me a present of some nice maps of Belgium if I would accept them. He wanted to show his appreciation for the assistance of America. I said, "That would be very fine and I would certainly be glad to have them, both for their instructive value as well as a memento of the giver."
Accordingly, the next day the man came over with his maps in his hand and gave them to me. They were not large and could be conveniently folded and put into the pocket, but they were unusually complete and really very excellent guides to the country. I took them and thanked him, looking them over admiringly and putting them into my inside pocket.