The little incident was all over in a few moments, and before the occupants of any other carriage could reach the scene to inquire into the cause of the disturbance, Phil was back again in his own carriage, writing the number given him by the sailor in his pocket note-book, to be saved for future reference.
“Not hurt, only jolted a bit,” was his explanation to the inquiries of his companions.
“Did you notice beauty in distress on the rear seat of the auto?” Lieutenant Winston’s eyes were twinkling. “There were two of them, and, by Jove! I envied you standing there championing the fallen, with their admiring eyes upon you.”
He read the surprise in Phil’s face. “What, didn’t see them! My! it looked to me as if you were playing up to the part. I’ll wager that the chap driving will have a bad half hour with them for his recklessness.”
Phil decided not to announce his suspicions, for after all he might be mistaken. The man’s voice certainly sounded like the one in the next compartment in the train, but then there was a great similarity between English voices to an American ear.
The arrival of the leaders at the gates of the palace grounds cut short further speculation upon the incident.
“On foot from here,” they were told by obsequious gentlemen in waiting, and glad to be able to stretch their limbs after the drive, the officers alighted, and were conducted through the Emperor’s magnificent gardens to the large pavilion where the fête was to be held.
For the next half hour the two midshipmen felt that they were peeping at a scene from fairy-land. The grace and color of everything the eye touched upon was pleasing—the foliage of the trees, the profusion of flowers, the delicate perfume impregnating the air. Silks, satins, and gold lace were on every hand. Men whose names were household words for diplomacy and war were where a hand could be reached out to touch them.
“This is as near fame as I’ll ever get, probably,” Sydney whispered as the well-known features of the prime minister appeared at his elbow, their coat sleeves touching in the crowd.
“Look at Winston over there,” Phil returned in the same spirit of fun. “That’s as near to a naval hero as he’ll be for some time.”