The Puppet Crown | Page 8

Harold MacGrath
serious, and if you were, it is out of the question. Death of my life! The kingdom would be at my ears. The people would shout that I was selling out to the English, that I was putting them into the mill to grind for English sacks."
"Your Majesty will recollect that the measure authorizing this loan was rather a peculiar one. Five millions were to be borrowed indiscriminately, of any man or body of men willing to advance the money on the securities offered. First come, first served, was not written, but it was implied. It was this which roused my curiosity, or cupidity, if you will."
"I can not recollect that the bill was as you say," said the king, frowning.
"I believe you. When the bill came to you, you were not expected to recollect anything but the royal signature. Have you read half of what you have signed and made law? No. I am serious. What is it to you or to the people, who secures this public mortgage, so long as the money is forthcoming? I desire to purchase at face value the twenty certificates."
"As a representative of England?"
The diplomat smiled. The king's political ignorance was well known. "As a representative of England, Sire, I could not purchase the stubs from which these certificates are cut. And then, as I remarked, I am an unfettered agent of self. The interest at two per cent. will be a fine income on a lump of stagnant money. Even in my own country, where millionaires are so numerous as to be termed common, I am considered a rich man. My personal property, aside from my estates, is five times the amount of the loan. A mere bagatelle, if I may use that pleasantry."
"Impossible, impossible!" cried the king, starting to his feet, while a line of worry ran across his forehead. He strode about impatiently slapping his boots with the riding stick. "It is impossible."
"Why do you say impossible, Sire?"
"I can not permit you to put in jeopardy a quarter of a million pounds," forgetting for the moment that he was powerless.
"Aha!" the diplomat cried briskly. "There is, then, beneath your weariness and philosophy, a fear?"
"A fear?" With an effort the king smoothed the line from his forehead. "Why should there be fear?"
"Why indeed, when our cousin Josef--" He stopped and looked toward the mountains.
"Well?" abruptly.
"I was thinking what a fine coup de maitre it would be for his Highness to gather in all these pretty slips of parchment given under the hand of Leopold."
"Small matter if he should. I should pay him." The king sat down. "And it is news to me that Josef can get together five millions."
"He has friends, rich and powerful friends."
"No matter, I should pay him."
"Are you quite sure?"
"What do you mean?"
"The face of the world changes in the course of ten years. Will there be five millions in your treasury ten years hence?"
"The wealth of my kingdom is not to be questioned," proudly, "nor its resources."
"But in ten years, with the ministers you have?" The Englishman shrugged doubtfully. "Why have you not formed a new cabinet of younger men? Why have you retained those of your predecessor, who are your natural enemies? You have tried and failed."
The expression of weariness returned to the king's face. He knew that all this was but a preamble to something of deeper significance. He anticipated what was forming in the other's mind, but he wished to avoid a verbal declaration. O, he knew that there was a net of intrigue enmeshing him, but it was so very fine that he could not pick up the smallest thread whereby to unravel it. Down in his soul he felt the shame of the knowledge that he dared not. A dreamer, rushing toward the precipice, would rather fall dreaming than waken and struggle futilely.
"My friend," he said, finally, sighing, "proceed. I am all attention."
"I never doubted your Majesty's perspicacity. You do not know, but you suspect, what I am about to disclose to you. My hope is that, when I am done, your Majesty will throw Kant and the rest of your philosophers out of the window. The people are sullen at the mention of your name, while they cheer another. There is an astonishing looseness about your revenues. The reds and the socialists plot for revolution and a republic, which is a thin disguise for a certain restoration. Your cousin the duke visits you publicly twice each year. He has been in the city a week at a time incognito, yet your minister of police seems to know nothing." The speaker ceased, and fondled the dahlia in his button-hole.
The king, noting the action, construed it as the subtle old diplomat intended he should. "Yes, yes! I am a king only for her
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