CHAPTER IX

BUCKINGHAM PALACE

To nearly every man, especially if he happened to be an Englishman,

the fact that he had received a Royal Command would have been

sufficient to make him, if not nervous, at least thoughtful. Edestone

was, however, so incensed at Rebener and so disgusted with Schmidt and

so angry with the entire German Secret Service, that it came to him as

a relief, like an invitation, from a gentleman older and more

distinguished than himself, to dine, or to see some recently acquired

painting or bit of porcelain, after he had been all day at a Board

meeting of avaricious business men. It was no affectation with him

that he felt he was going into an atmosphere in which he belonged. “I

always assume that Royalties are gentlemen,” he would say, “until I

find that they are not; and as long as they conduct themselves as such

I am perfectly at ease, but as soon as they begin to behave like

bounders I am uncomfortable.”

He was not one of those Americans who insist at all times and under

all circumstances that he is as good as any man, simply because in his

heart of hearts he knows that he is not, but hopes by this bluster to

deceive the world. On the contrary, he was a firm advocate of an

aristocratic form of government, and did not hesitate to say that he

considered the Declaration of Independence, wherein it refers to the

absolute equality of man, as a joke.

He was a most thorough believer in class and class distinction and

said that he hoped to see the day when the world would be ruled by an

upper class who would see that the lower classes had all that was good

for them, but would not be allowed to turn the world upside down with

their clumsy illogical reforms and new religions, Saint-Simonianism,

humanitarianism, or as a matter of fact with any of the old

established _isms_. They already have several hundred forms to

choose from, he would say; they should not be allowed to make any more

new ones until one single one of these has been universally

accepted. The glamour of royalty had no effect upon him. Its solidity,

dignity, and gentility did.

When he saw the royal livery standing before the hotel, he had rather

surmised that it was being used by some Indianapolis heiress who had

married a title which carried the privilege of using it and was

getting her money’s worth. He therefore took no interest in looking

into the carriage, but he would have been glad to have gone up to the

men and said: “A nice pair of horses you have there. How well they are

turned out, and how very smartly you wear your livery.”

The equerry, Colonel Stewart, was very simple and direct. He treated

Edestone with consideration, but did not forget to let him understand

that the King was showing great condescension in inviting him so

informally.

“A carriage will be sent for you at four o’clock, and if there is any

apparatus and you have men to install it they will be looked after by

an officer of the Royal Household who will call in about an hour.”

He said that the King wished to have it understood that he was not

receiving Edestone in any way as representing the United States of

America, since no credentials of any kind had been presented, but

simply as a gentleman of science whose achievements warranted the

honour.

In the course of their conversation, Edestone referred to his recent

unpleasant experience in the spy-driven taxi, and he was assured by

Colonel Stewart that he need entertain no further apprehensions on

that score as thorough protection would be given him and every single

one of these men would be and already were under espionage. Bowing

then, the equerry left as quietly as he had come.

Edestone went up to his apartment and issued his instructions to

James, his valet.

“Send Mr. Black and Mr. Stanton to me at once. Then fix my bath, send

for the barber, and lay out my clothes. I am going out to tea”--he

paused--“with His Majesty, King George V. of England,” while he

enjoyed the effect on his snobbish English servant.

“Mr. Black,” he said when his electrician and operating man came in,

“will you and Mr. Stanton go to Grosvenor Square and bring over the

boxes with the apparatus and films. They will have to be back here by

3:15, as there will be an officer of the Royal Household here at that

time. Go with him to Buckingham Palace and install the instrument and

screen where he directs you; then wait there until you hear from me.”

While he was dressing and being shaved he ran over in his mind what he

should say to the King. He knew that either Rockstone or Underhill had

engineered this audience, and he wondered whether it foreboded good or

evil. At any rate it was progress, and that was all-important.

Colonel Stewart had certainly been most cordial, and the fact that he

was to meet the King without the delay of presenting credentials

through the American Embassy, rather argued that England felt the

necessity for prompt action.

The barber almost cut his ear off when James came to announce the fact

than an officer of the Royal Household was downstairs and that Mr.

Black and Mr. Stanton had returned from Grosvenor Square with the

apparatus and films, and when Edestone stopped him long enough to say

through the lather: “Tell Mr. Black that I will be at the Palace and

shall want everything in readiness by 4:30 at the latest,” the man

gave such a start that he almost dropped the shaving mug. He set it

down with a bang on the marble washbasin.

“I go,” he said. “My nose bleeds. I will send you another barber.” And

he rushed out of the room.

“What is the matter, James?” exclaimed Edestone indignantly. “Why

didn’t you insist on their sending up the head barber instead of that

fool? Come finish this thing up yourself, I can’t wait.” Recovering

his equanimity he added: “Time flies and the King waits.”

James, who in his time had valeted princes, after he had finished

shaving him and had turned him out as only a well-trained English

valet can, glanced with satisfaction at his work. “I think, sir, when

His Majesty sees you, sir, he will ask, sir, who is your tailor,

sir. A buttonhole, sir?”

And so with a light step and buoyant spirit the American went down,

when word came up that Colonel Stewart had called for him.

“Mr. Edestone,” said the Colonel, “I am glad to tell you that your

apparatus has arrived safely and has been installed in the Green

Drawing Room. The King is deeply interested, and judging from a

mysterious pair of curtains in the gallery I think that other members

of the Royal Family intend to see this wonderful American with his

wonderful invention. As to your friends, the German spies, I made due

report of the matter and shall probably have something to tell you

later.”

It was a beautiful spring day and as Edestone was driven through

Berkeley Square, up Piccadilly, and down Grosvenor Place he saw London

at its best. Then, as he crossed the park with its beautiful old trees

and lake and flower-beds, approaching Buckingham Palace from an

entirely different angle than he had ever seen it before, he realized

for the first time that it was in the midst of a beautiful sylvan

setting. The Buckingham Palace that he knew had always suggested to

him one of the Department Buildings in Washington in their efforts to

look as much like a royal palace as possible.

When he stopped under a porte-cochère simple little entrance, he felt

that he might be making a call at some rich American’s country home

rather than on the King of England in the middle of London. There were

no soldiers and no extraordinary number of servants. He had seen as

many and more at some of the houses at Newport. He was shown into a

long, low, and rather dark room on the ground floor, where a lot of

young officers were lounging about. Colonel Stewart introduced him to

several of them and a smarter lot of young fellows Edestone had seldom

seen.

He had not been waiting more than fifteen or twenty minutes when he

heard Colonel Stewart’s name called. His pulse quickened for he knew

that this was a signal for him. Colonel Stewart, bowing to the other

officers, said to him: “Will you please come with me, Mr. Edestone?”

Passing out of the room and up a short flight of stairs they came to a

broad corridor about twenty feet wide which ran around three sides of

a court, opening out upon the gardens to the west. They were conducted

around two sides of the square and taken into a large reception room

in the opposite corner where there were perhaps a dozen officers of

high rank, ministers and statesmen, standing about in groups. They

spoke in voices scarcely above a whisper and when the door on the

left, which evidently led into a still larger room, was opened there

was absolute silence.

Colonel Stewart, who up to this time had been quite affable, now

seemed suddenly to be caught by the solemnity of the place, and stood

like a man at the funeral of his friend.

In one of the groups, Edestone saw Colonel Wyatt, who gave him a

little nod of recognition. In a few minutes the door to the larger

room opened and Lord Rockstone coming out walked straight up to where

he and Colonel Stewart stood.

“His Majesty wishes to waive all form and ceremony, and has ordered me

to present you to him at once,” he said. But when he saw the cool and

matter-of-fact way in which Edestone received this extraordinary

announcement his expression said as plainly as words: “These Americans

are certainly a remarkable people.” He merely bowed to Colonel

Stewart, however, and continued: “Will you please come with me,” and

leading the way to the door, spoke to an attendant who went inside. In

about five minutes the man returned, and announced to Lord Rockstone:

“His Majesty will receive you.”

L.P.M. : The End of the Great War · 第 9 / 36 章