The great house in Curzon Street awoke, the following morning, to a
state of intense activity. Taxi-cabs and motor-cars were lined along the
street; a stream of callers came and went. That part of the
establishment of which little was seen by the casual caller, the rooms
where half a dozen secretaries conducted an immense correspondence,
presided over by Li Wen, was working overtime at full pressure. In his
reception room, Prince Shan saw a selected few of the callers, mostly
journalists and politicians, to whom Li Wen gave the entrée. One visitor
even this most astute of secretaries found it hard to place. He took the
card in to his master, who glanced at it thoughtfully.
"The Earl of Dorminster," he repeated. "I will see him."
Nigel found himself received with courtesy, yet with a certain
aloofness. Prince Shan rose from his favourite chair of plain black oak
heaped with green silk cushions and held out his hand a little
tentatively.
"You are very kind to visit me, Lord Dorminster," he said. "I trust that
you come to wish me fortune."
"That," Nigel replied, "depends upon how you choose to seek it."
"I am answered," was the prompt acknowledgment. "One thing in your
country I have at least learnt to appreciate, and that is your love of
candour. What is your errand with me to-day? Have you come to speak to
me as an ambassador from your cousin, or in any way on her behalf?"
"My business has nothing to do with Lady Maggie," Nigel assured him
gravely.
Prince Shan held out his hand.
"Stop," he begged. "Do not explain your business. If it is a personal
request, it is granted. If, on the other hand, you seek my advice on
matters of grave importance, it is yours. Before other words are spoken,
however, I myself desire to address you on the subject of Lady Maggie
Trent."
"As you please," Nigel answered.
"It is not the custom of my country, or of my life," Prince Shan
continued, "to covet or steal the things which belong to another. If
fate has made me a thief, I am very sorry. I have proposed to Lady
Maggie that she accompany me back to China. It is my great desire that
she should become my wife."
Nigel felt himself curiously tongue-tied. There was something in the
other's measured speech, so fateful, so assured, that it seemed almost
as though he were speaking of pre-ordained things. Much that had seemed
to him impossible and unnatural in such an idea disappeared from that
moment.
"You tell me this," Nigel began--
"I announce it to you as the head of the family," Prince Shan
interrupted.
"You tell it to me also," Nigel persisted, "because you have heard the
rumours which were at one time very prevalent--that Lady Maggie and I
were or were about to become engaged to be married."
"I have heard such a rumour only very indirectly," Prince Shan
confessed, "and I cannot admit that it has made any difference in my
attitude. I think, in my land and yours, we have at least one common
convention. The woman who touches our heart is ours if we may win her.
Love is unalterably selfish. One must fight for one's own hand. And for
those who may suffer by our victory, we may have pity but no
consideration."
"Am I to understand," Nigel asked bluntly, "that Lady Maggie has
consented to be your wife?"
"Lady Maggie has given me no reply. I left her alone with her thoughts.
Every hour it is my hope to hear from her. She knows that I leave for
China early to-morrow."
"So at the present moment you are in suspense."
"I am in suspense," Prince Shan admitted, "and perhaps," he went on,
with one of his rare smiles, "it occurred to me that it would be in one
sense a relief to speak to a fellow man of the hopes and fears that are
in my heart. You are the one person to whom I could speak, Lord
Dorminster. You have not wished my suit well, but at least you have been
clear-sighted. I think it has never occurred to you that a prince of
China might venture to compete with a peer of England."
"On the contrary," Nigel assented, "I have the greatest admiration for
the few living descendants of the world's oldest aristocracy. You have a
right to enter the lists, a right to win if you can."
"And what do you think of my prospects, if I may ask such a delicate
question?" Prince Shan enquired.
"I cannot estimate them," Nigel replied. "I only know that Maggie is
deeply interested."
"I think," his companion continued softly, "that she will become my
Princess. You have never visited China, Lord Dorminster," he went on,
"so you have little idea, perhaps, as to the manner of our lives. Some
day I will hope to be your host, so until then, as I may not speak of my
own possessions, may I go just so far as this? Your cousin will be very
happy in China. This is a great country, but the very air you breathe is
cloyed with your national utilitarianism. Mine is a country of beautiful
thoughts, of beautiful places, of quiet-living and sedate people. I can
give your cousin every luxury of which the world has ever dreamed,
wrapped and enshrined in beauty. No person with a soul could be unhappy
in the places where she will dwell."
"You are at least confident," Nigel remarked.
"It is because I am convinced," was the calm rejoinder. "I shall take
your cousin's happiness into my keeping without one shadow of misgiving.
The last word, however, is with her. It remains to be seen whether her
courage is great enough to induce her to face such a complete change in
the manner of her life."
"It will not be her lack of courage which will keep her in England,"
Nigel declared.
Prince Shan bowed, with a graceful little gesture of the hands. The
subject was finished.
"I shall now, Lord Dorminster," he said, "take advantage of your kindly
presence here to speak to you on a very personal matter, only this time
it is you who are the central figure, and I who am the dummy."
"I do not follow you," Nigel confessed, with a slight frown.
"I speak in tones of apology," Prince Shan went on, "but you must
remember that I am one of reflective disposition; Nature has endowed me
with some of the gifts of my great ancestors, philosophers famed the
world over. It seems very clear to me that, if I had not come, from
sheer force of affectionate propinquity you would have married Lady
Maggie."
Nigel's frown deepened.
"Prince Shan!" he began.
Again the outstretched hand seemed as though the fingers were pressed
against his mouth. He broke off abruptly in his protest.
"You would have lived a contented life, because that is your province,"
his companion continued. "You would have felt yourself happy because you
would have been a faithful husband. But the time would have come when
you would both have realised that you had missed the great things."
"This is idle prophecy," Nigel observed, a little impatiently. "I came
to see you upon another matter."
"Humour me," the Prince begged. "I am going to speak to you even more
intimately. I shall venture to do so because, after all, she is better
known to me than to you. I am going to tell you that of all the women in
the world, Naida Karetsky is the most likely to make you happy."
Nigel drew himself up a little stiffly.
"One does not discuss these things," he muttered.
"May I call that a touch of insularity?" Prince Shan pleaded, "because
there is nothing else in the world so wonderful to discuss, in all
respect and reverence, as the women who have made us feel. One last
word, Lord Dorminster. The days of matrimonial alliances between the
reigning families of Europe have come to an end under the influence of a
different form of government, but there is a certain type of alliance,
the utility of which remains unimpaired. I venture to say that you could
not do your country a greater service, apart from any personal feelings
you might have, than by marrying Mademoiselle Karetsky. There, you see,
now I have finished. This is for your reflection, Lord Dorminster--just
the measured statement of one who wears at least the cloak of philosophy
by inheritance. Time passes. Your own reason for coming to see me has
not yet been expounded."
"I have come to ask you to visit the Prime Minister before you leave
England," Nigel announced.
Prince Shan changed his position slightly. His forehead was a little
wrinkled. He was silent for a moment.
"If I pay more than a farewell visit of ceremony," he said, "that is to
say, if I speak with Mr. Mervin Brown on things that count, I must
anticipate a certain decision at which I have not yet wholly arrived."
Nigel had a sudden inspiration.
"You are seeking to bribe Maggie!" he exclaimed.
"That is not true," was the dignified reply.
"Then please explain," Nigel persisted.
Prince Shan rose to his feet. He walked to the heavy silk curtains which
led into his own bedchamber, pushed them apart, and looked for a moment
at the familiar objects in the room. Then he came back, glancing on his
way at the ebony cabinet.
"One does not repeat one's mistakes," he said slowly, "and although you
and I, Lord Dorminster, breathe the common air of the greater world, my
instinct tells me that of certain things which have passed between your
cousin and myself it is better that no mention ever be made. I wish to
tell you this, however. There is in existence a document, my signature
to which would, without a doubt, have a serious influence upon the
destinies of this country. That document, unsigned, would be one of my
marriage gifts to Lady Maggie--and as you know I have not yet had her
answer. However, if you wish it, I will go to the Prime Minister."
Li Wen came silently in. He spoke to his master for a few minutes in
Chinese. A faint smile parted the latter's lips.
"You can tell the person at the telephone that I will call within the
next few minutes," he directed. "You will not object," he added, turning
courteously to Nigel, "if I stop for a moment, on the way to Downing
Street, at a small private hospital? An acquaintance of mine lies sick
there and desires urgently to see me."
"I am entirely at your service," Nigel assured him.
Prince Shan, with many apologies, left Nigel alone in the car outside a
tall, grey house in John Street, and, preceded by the white-capped nurse
who had opened the door, climbed the stairs to the first floor of the
celebrated nursing home, where, after a moment's delay, he was shown
into a large and airy apartment. Immelan was in bed, looking very ill
indeed. He was pale, and his china-blue eyes, curiously protruding, were
filled with an expression of haunting fear. A puzzled doctor was
standing by the bedside. A nurse, who was smoothing the bedclothes,
glanced around at Prince Shan's entrance. The invalid started
convulsively, and, clutching the pillows with his right hand, turned
towards his visitor.
"So you've come!" he exclaimed. "Stay where yon are! Don't go!
Doctor--nurse--leave us alone for a moment."
The nurse went at once. The doctor hesitated.
"My patient is a good deal exhausted," he said. "There are no dangerous
symptoms at present, but--"
"I will promise not to distress him," Prince Shan interrupted. "I am
myself somewhat pressed for time, and it is probable that your patient
will insist upon speaking to me in private."
The doctor followed the nurse from the room. Prince Shan stood looking
down upon the figure of quondam associate. There was a leaven of mild
wonder in his clear eyes, a faintly contemptuous smile about the corners
of his lips.
"So you are afraid of death, my friend," he observed, "afraid of the
death you planned so skilfully for me."
"It is a lie!" Immelan declared excitedly. "Sen Lu was never killed by
my orders. Listen! You have nothing against me. My death can do you no
good. It is you who have been at fault. You--Prince Shan--the great
diplomatist of the world--are gambling away your future and the future
of a mighty empire for a woman's sake. You have treated me badly enough.
Spare my life. Call in the doctor here and tell him what to do. He can
find nothing in my system. He is helpless."
The smile upon the Prince's lips became vaguer, his expression more
bland and indeterminate.
"My dear Immelan," he murmured, "you are without doubt delirious.
Compose yourself, I beg."
A light that was almost tragic shone in the man's face. He sat up with a
sudden access of strength.
"For the love of God, don't torture me!" he groaned. "The pains grow
worse, hour by hour. If I die, the whole world shall know by whose
hand."
The expression on Prince Shan's face remained unchanged. In his eyes,
however, there was a little glint of something which seemed almost like
foreknowledge,
"When you die," he pronounced calmly, "it will be by your own hand--not
mine."
For some reason or other, Immelan accepted these measured words of
prophecy as a total reprieve. The relief in his face was almost piteous.
He seized his visitor's hand and would have fawned upon it. Prince Shan
withdrew himself a little farther from the bed.
"Immelan," he said, "during my stay in England I have studied you and
your methods, I have listened to all you have had to say and to propose,
I have weighed the advantages and the disadvantages of the scheme you
have outlined to me, and I only arrived at my decision after the most
serious and unbiassed reflection. Your scheme itself was bold and almost
splendid, but, as you yourself well know at the back of your mind, it
would lay the seeds of a world tumult. I have studied history, Immelan,
perhaps a little more deeply than you, and I do not believe in
conquests. For the restoration to China of such lands as belong
geographically and rightly to the Chinese Empire, I have my own plans.
You, it seems to me, would make a cat's-paw of all Asia to gratify your
hatred of England."
"A cat's-paw!" Immelan gasped. "Australia, New Zealand and India for
Japan, new lands for her teeming population; Thibet for you, all
Manchuria, and the control of the Siberian Railway!"
"These are dazzling propositions," Prince Shan admitted, "and yet--what
about the other side of the Pacific?"
"America would be powerless," Immelan insisted.
"So you said before, in 1917," was the dry reminder. "I did not come
here, however, to talk world politics with you. Those things for the
moment are finished. I came in answer to your summons."
Immelan raised himself a little in the bed.
"You meant what you said?" he demanded, with hoarse anxiety. "There was
no poison? Swear that?"
Prince Shan moved towards the door. His backward glance was coldly
contemptuous.
"What I said, I meant," he replied. "Extract such comfort from it as you
may."
He left the room, closing the door softly behind him. Immelan stared
after him, hollow-eyed and anxious. Already the cold fears were seizing
upon him once more.
Prince Shan rejoined Nigel, and the two men drove off to Downing Street.
The former was silent for the first few minutes. Then he turned slightly
towards his companion.
"The man Immelan is a coward," he declared. "It is he whom I have just
visited."
Nigel shrugged his shoulders.
"So many men are brave enough in a fight," he remarked, "who lose their
nerve on a sick bed."
"Bravery in battle," Prince Shan pronounced, "is the lowest form of
courage. The blood is stirred by the excitement of slaughter as by
alcohol. With Immelan I shall have no more dealings."
"Speaking politically as well as personally?" Nigel enquired.
The other smiled.
"I think I might go so far as to agree," he acquiesced, "but in a sense,
there are conditions. You shall hear what they are. I will speak before
you to the Prime Minister. See, up above is the sign of my departure."
Out of a little bank of white, fleecy clouds which hung down, here and
there, from the blue sky, came the _Black Dragon_, her engines purring
softly, her movements slow and graceful. Both men watched her for a
moment in silence.
"At six o'clock to-morrow morning I start," Prince Shan announced. "My
pilot tells me that the weather conditions are wonderful, all the way
from here to Pekin. We shall be there on Wednesday."
"You travel alone?" Nigel enquired.
"I have passengers," was the quiet reply. "I am taking the English
chaplain to your Church in Pekin."
The eyes of the two men met.
"It is an ingenious idea," Nigel admitted dryly.
"I wish to be prepared," his companion answered. "It may be that he is
my only companion. In that case, I go back to a life lonelier than I
have ever dreamed of. It is on the knees of the gods. So far there has
come no word, but although I am not by nature an optimist, my
superstitions are on my side. All the way over on my last voyage, when I
lay in my berth, awake and we sailed over and through the clouds, my
star, my own particular star, seemed leaning always down towards me, and
for that reason I have faith."
Nigel glanced at his companion curiously but without speech. The car
pulled up in Downing Street. The two men descended and found everything
made easy for them. In two minutes they were in the presence of the
Prime Minister.