MR. BLITHERS ARRIVES IN GRAUSTARK
Mr. William W. Blithers arrived in Edelweiss, the Capital of Graustark,
on the same day that the Prince returned from his tour of the world. As
a matter of fact, he travelled by special train and beat the Prince
home by the matter of three hours. The procession of troops, headed by
the Royal Castle Guard, it was announced would pass the historic Hotel
Regengetz at five in the afternoon, so Mr. Blithers had front seats on
the extension porch facing the Platz.
He did not know it, but if he had waited for the regular train in
Vienna, he would have had the honour of travelling in the same railway
carriage with the royal young man. ("Would" is used advisedly in the
place of "might," for he _would_ have travelled in it, you may be sure.)
Moreover, he erred in another particular, for arriving at the same
instant and virtually arm-in-arm with the country's sovereign, he could
hardly have been kept out of the procession itself. When you stop to
think that next to the Prince he was the most important personage in
the realm on this day of celebration, it ought not to be considered at
all unreasonable for him to have expected some notable attention, such
as being placed in the first carriage immediately behind the country's
sovereign, or possibly on the seat facing him. Missing an opportunity
like this, wasn't at all Mr. Blithers' idea of success. He was very
sorry about the special train. If it hadn't been for that train he
might now be preparing to ride castlewards behind a royal band instead
of sitting with his wife in the front row of seats on a hotel porch,
just like a regular guest, waiting for the parade to come along. It
certainly was a wasted opportunity.
He had lost no time in his dash across the continent. In the first
place, his agents in Paris made it quite clear to him that there was
likely to be "ructions" in Graustark over the loan and the prospect of
a plebeian princess being seated on the throne whether the people liked
it or not; and in the second place, Maud Applegate had left a note on
his desk in the Paris offices, coolly informing him that she was likely
to turn up in Edelweiss almost as soon as he. She added an annoying
postscript. She said she was curious to see what sort of a place it was
that he had been wasting his money on!
To say that he was put out by Maud's aggravating behaviour would be
stating the case with excessive gentleness. He was furious. He sent for
the head of the detective agency and gave him a blowing up that he was
never to forget. It appears that the detectives had followed a false
lead and had been fooled by the wary Maud in a most humiliating manner.
They hadn't the remotest notion where she was, and evinced great
surprise when informed in a voice loud enough to be heard a half-block
away that she was on her way to Graustark. They said it couldn't be
possible, and he said they didn't know what they were talking about. He
was done with them. They could step out and ask the cashier to give
them a check for their services, and so on and so forth. He did not
forget to notify them that they were a gang of loafers.
Then he dragged Mrs. Blithers off to the Gare de l'Este and took the
Express to Vienna. He would see to the loan first and to Maud afterward.
He had no means of knowing that a certain Miss Guile was doing more to
shape the destiny of the principality of Graustark than all the
millions he had poured into its treasury. Nor had he the faintest
suspicion that she was even then on Graustark soil and waiting as
eagerly as he for the procession to pass a given point.
Going back a day or two, it becomes necessary to report that while in
Vienna the perverse Bedelia played a shabby trick on the infatuated
Robin. She stole away from the Bristol in the middle of the night and
was half-way to the Graustark frontier before he was aware of her
flight. She left a note for him, the contents of which sufficed to ease
his mind in the presence of what otherwise might have been looked upon
as a calamity. Instead of relapsing into despondency over her
defection, he became astonishingly exuberant. It was relief and not
despair that followed the receipt of the brief letter. She had played
directly into his hand, after all. In other words, she had removed a
difficulty that had been troubling him for days: the impossibility of
entering his own domain without betraying his identity to her.
Naturally his entrance to the Capital would be attended by the most
incriminating manifestation on the part of the populace. The character
of R. Schmidt would be effaced in an instant, and, according to his own
notion, quite a bit too soon to suit his plans. He preferred to remain
Schmidt until she placed her hand in his and signified a readiness to
become plain Mrs. R. Schmidt of Vienna. That would be his hour of
triumph.
In her note she said: "Forgive me for running away like this. It is for
the best. I must have a few days to myself, dear friend,--days for
sober reflection uninfluenced by the presence of a natural enemy to
composure. And so I am leaving you in this cowardly, graceless fashion.
Do not think ill of me. I give you my solemn promise that in a few days
I shall let you know where I may be found if you choose to come to me.
Even then I may not be fully convinced in my own mind that our
adventure has reached its climax. You have said that you would
accompany me to Graustark. I am leaving to-night for that country,
where I shall remain in seclusion for a few days before acquainting you
with my future plans. It is not my intention to stop in Edelweiss at
present. The newspapers proclaim a state of unrest there over the
coming visit of Mr. Blithers and the return of the Prince, both of whom
are very much in the public eye just now. I prefer the quiet of the
country to the excitement of the city, so I shall seek some remote
village and give myself up to--shall I say prayerful meditation?
Believe me, dear Rex, to be your most devoted, though whimsical,
Bedelia."
He was content with this. Deep down in his heart he thanked her for
running away at such an opportune time! The situation was immeasurably
simplified. He had laid awake nights wondering how he could steal into
his own domain with her as a companion and still put off the revelation
that he was not yet ready to make. Now the way was comparatively easy.
Once the demonstration was safely over, he could carry on his adventure
with something of the same security that made the prowlings of the
Bagdad Caliphs such happy enterprises, for he could with impunity
traverse the night in the mantle of R. Schmidt.
Immediately upon receiving her letter, he sent for Quinnox and Gourou,
who were stopping at a hotel nearby.
"I am ready to proceed to Edelweiss, my friends," said he. "Miss Guile
has departed. Will you book accommodations on the earliest train
leaving for home?"
"I have already seen to that, highness," said Gourou calmly. "We leave
at six this evening. Count Quinnox has wired the Prime Minister that
you will arrive in Edelweiss at three to-morrow afternoon, God willing."
"You knew that she had gone?"
"I happened to be in the Nordbahnhof when she boarded the train at
midnight," replied the Baron, unmoved.
"Do you never sleep?" demanded Robin hotly.
"Not while I am on duty," said Gourou.
The Prince was thoughtful, his brow clouding with a troubled frown. "I
suppose I shall now have to face my people with the confession that
will confirm their worst fears. I may as well say to you, my friends,
that I mean to make her my wife even though it costs me my kingdom. Am
I asking too much of you, gentlemen, when I solicit your support in my
fight against the prejudice that is certain to--"
Quinnox stopped him with a profound gesture of resignation and a single
word: "Kismet!" and Gourou, with his most ironic smile, added: "You may
count on us to support the crown, highness, even though we lose our
heads."
"Thank you," said Robin, flushing. "Just because I appear to have lost
my head is no reason for your doing the same, Baron Gourou."
The Baron's smile was unfaltering. "True," he said. "But we may be able
to avoid all that by inducing the people of Graustark to lose their
hearts."
"Do you think they will accept her as--as their princess?" cried Robin,
hopefully.
"I submit that it will first be necessary for you to induce Miss Guile
to accept you as her prince," said Gourou mildly. "That doesn't appear
to be settled at present."
He took alarm. "What do you mean? Your remark has a sinister sound. Has
anything transpired to--"
"She has disappeared, highness, quite effectually. That is all that I
can say," said Gourou, and Robin was conscious of a sudden chill and
the rush of cold moisture to his brow. "But let us prepare to confront
an even more substantial condition. A prospective father-in-law is
descending upon our land. He is groping in the dark and he is angry. He
has lost a daughter somewhere in the wilds of Europe, and he realises
that he cannot hope to become the grandfather of princes unless he can
produce a mother for them. At present he seems to be desperate. He
doesn't know where to find her, as Little Bo-peep might have said. We
may expect to catch him in a very ugly and obstreperous mood. Have I
told you that he was in this city last night? He arrived at the Bristol
a few hours prior to the significant departure of Miss Guile. Moreover,
he has chartered a special train and is leaving to-day for Edelweiss.
Count Quinnox has taken the precaution to advise the Prime Minister of
his approach and has impressed upon him the importance of decrying any
sort of popular demonstration against him on his arrival. Romano
reports that the people are in an angry mood. I would suggest that you
prepare, in a way, to placate them, now that Miss Guile has more or
less dropped out of sight. It behooves you to--"
"See here," broke in Robin harshly, "have you had the effrontery to
make a personal appeal to Miss Guile in your confounded efforts to
prevent the--"
"Just a moment, Robin," exclaimed Count Quinnox, his face hardening. "I
am sorry to hear words of anger on your lips, and directed toward your
most loyal friends. You ask us to support you and in the next breath
imply that we are unworthy. It is beneath the dignity of either Baron
Gourou or myself to reply to your ungenerous charge."
"I beg your pardon," said Robin, but without lowering his head. He was
not convinced. The barb of suspicion had entered his brain. Were they,
after all, responsible for Bedelia's flight? Had they revealed his
identity to the girl and afterward created such alarm in her breast
that she preferred to slink away in the night rather than to court the
humiliation that might follow if she presumed to wed Graustark's prince
in opposition to his country's wish? "You must admit that the
circumstance of her secret flight last night is calculated to--But, no
matter. We will drop the subject. I warn you, however, that my mind is
fixed. I shall not rest until I have found her."
"I fancy that the state of unrest will be general," said Gourou, with
perfect good-nature. "It will go very hard with Graustark if we fail to
find her. And now, to return to our original sin: What are we to do
about the ambitious Mr. Blithers? He is on my conscience and I tremble."
It must not be supposed for an instant that the City of Edelweiss and
the court of Graustark was unimpressed by the swift approach and abrupt
arrival of Mr. Blithers. His coming had been heralded for days in
advance. The city was rudely expectant, the court uneasy. The man who
had announced his determination to manage the public and private
affairs of the principality was coming to town. He was coming in state,
there could be no doubt about that. More than that, he was coming to
propitiate the people whether they chose to be mollified or not. He was
bringing with him a vast store of business acumen, an unexampled
confidence and the self-assurance of one who has never encountered
failure. Shylock's mantle rested on his hated shoulders, and Judas
Iscariot was spoken of with less abhorrence than William W. Blithers by
the Christian country of Graustark. He was coming to get better
acquainted with his daughter's future subjects.
Earlier in the week certain polite and competent gentlemen from Berlin
had appeared at the Castle gates, carrying authority from the dauntless
millionaire. They calmly announced that they had come to see what
repairs were needed in and about the Castle and to put the place in
shape. A most regrettable incident followed. They were chased out of
town by an angry mob and serious complications with the German Empire
were likely to be the result of the outrage.
Moreover, the citizens of Graustark were openly reluctant to deposit
their state bonds as security for the unpopular loan, and there was a
lively sentiment in favour of renouncing the agreement entered into by
the cabinet.
The Prime Minister, in the absence of the Prince, called mass meetings
in all the towns and villages and emissaries of the crown addressed the
sullen crowds. They sought to clarify the atmosphere. So eloquent were
their pleadings and so sincere their promises that no evil would befall
the state, that the more enlightened of the people began to deposit
their bonds in the crown treasury. Others, impressed by the confidence
of their more prosperous neighbours, showed signs of weakening. The
situation was made clear to them. There could be no possible chance of
loss from a financial point of view. Their bonds were safe, for the
loan itself was a perfectly legitimate transaction, a conclusion which
could not be gainsaid by the most pessimistic of the objectors. Mr.
Blithers would be paid in full when the time came for settlement, the
bonds would be restored to their owners, and all would be well with
Graustark.
As for the huge transactions Mr. Blithers had made in London, Paris and
Berlin, there could be but one conclusion: he had the right to invest
his money as he pleased. That was his look-out. The bonds of Graustark
were open to purchase in any market. Any investor in the world was
entitled to buy all that he could obtain if he felt inclined to put his
money to that use. The earnest agents of the government succeeded in
convincing the people that Mr. Blithers had made a good investment
because he was a good business man. What did it matter to Graustark who
owned the outstanding bonds? It might as well be Blithers as Bernstein
or any one else.
As for Miss Blithers becoming the Princess of Graustark, that was
simple poppy-cock, declared the speakers. The crown could take oath
that Prince Robin would not allow _that_ to happen. Had he not declared
in so many words that he would never wed the daughter of William
Blithers, and, for that matter, hadn't the young woman also announced
that she would have none of him? There was one thing that Mr. Blithers
couldn't do, and that was to marry his daughter to the Prince of
Graustark.
And so, by the time that Mr. Blithers arrived in Edelweiss, the people
were in a less antagonistic frame of mind,--though sullenly
suspicious,--and were even prepared to grin in their sleeves, for,
after all, it was quite clear that the joke was not on them but on Mr.
Blithers.
When the special train pulled into the station Mr. Blithers turned to
his wife and said:
"Cheer up, Lou. This isn't a funeral."
"But there is quite a mob out there," she said, peering through the car
window. "How can we be sure that they are friendly?"
"Don't you worry," said Mr. Blithers confidently. "They are not likely
to throw rocks at the goose that lays the golden egg." If he had paused
to think, he would not have uttered such a careless indictment. The
time would come when she was to remind him of his thoughtless
admission, omitting, however, any reference to the golden egg.
The crowd was big, immobile, surly. It lined the sidewalks in the
vicinity of the station and stared with curious, half-closed eyes at
the portly capitalist and his party, which, by the way, was rendered
somewhat imposing in size by augmentation in the shape of lawyers from
Paris and London, clerks and stenographers from the Paris office, and
four plain clothes men who were to see to it that Midas wasn't blown to
smithereens by envious anarchists; to say nothing of a lady's maid, a
valet, a private secretary and a doctor. (Mr. Blithers always went
prepared for the worst.)
He was somewhat amazed and disgruntled by the absence of silk-hat
ambassadors from the Castle, with words of welcome for him on his
arrival. There was a plentiful supply of policemen but no cabinet
ministers. He was on the point of censuring his secretary for not
making it clear to the government that he was due to arrive at such and
such an hour and minute, when a dapper young man in uniform--he
couldn't tell whether he was a patrolman or a captain--came up and
saluted.
"I am William W. Blithers," said he sharply.
"I am an official guide and interpreter, sir," announced the young man
suavely. "May I have the honour--"
"Not necessary--not necessary at all," exploded Mr. Blithers. "I can
get about without a guide."
"You will require an interpreter, sir," began the other, only to be
waved aside.
"Any one desiring to speak to me will have to do it in English," said
Mr. Blithers, and marched out to the carriages.
He was in some doubt at first, but as his carriage passed swiftly
between the staring ranks on the sidewalks, he began to doff his hat
and bow to the right and the left. His smiles were returned by the
multitude, and so his progress was more or less of a triumph after all.
At the Regengetz he found additional cause for irritation. The lords
and nobles who should have met him at the railway station were as
conspicuously absent in the rotunda of the hotel. No one was there to
receive him except the ingratiating manager of the establishment, who
hoped that he had had a pleasant trip and who assured him that it would
not be more than a couple of hours before his rooms would be vacated by
the people who now had them but were going away as soon as the
procession had passed.
"Get 'em out at once," stormed Mr. Blithers. "Do you think I want to
hang around this infernal lobby until--"
"Pardon me," said the manager blandly, "but your rooms will not be
ready for you before four or five o'clock. They are occupied. We can
put you temporarily in rooms at the rear if your lady desires to rest
and refresh herself after the journey."
"Well, I'll be--" began Mr. Blithers, purple in the face, and then
leaned suddenly against the counter, incapable of finishing the
sentence.
The manager rubbed his hands and smiled. "This is one of our gala days,
Mr. Blithers. You could not have arrived at a time more opportune. I
have taken the precaution to reserve chairs for you on the verandah.
The procession will pass directly in front of the hotel on its way to
Castle avenue."
"What procession?" demanded Mr. Blithers. He was beginning to recall
the presence of uniformed bands and mounted troops in the side streets
near the station.
"The Prince is returning to-day from his trip around the world," said
the manager.
"He ought to have been back long ago," said Mr. Blithers wrathfully,
and mopped his brow with a hand rendered unsteady by a mental
convulsion. He was thinking of his hat-lifting experience.
True to schedule, the procession passed the hotel at five. Bands were
playing, people were shouting, banners were waving, and legions of
mounted and foot soldiers in brilliant array clogged the thoroughfare.
The royal equipage rolled slowly by, followed by less gorgeous
carriages in which were seated the men who failed to make the advent of
Mr. Blithers a conspicuous success.
Prince Robin sat in the royal coach, faced by two unbending officers of
the Royal Guard. He was alone on the rear seat, and his brown, handsome
face was aglow with smiles. Instead of a hat of silk, he lifted a gay
and far from immaculate conception in straw; instead of a glittering
uniform, he wore a suit of blue serge and a peculiarly American tie of
crimson hue. He looked more like a popular athlete returning from
conquests abroad than a prince of ancient lineage. But the crowd
cheered itself hoarse over this bright-faced youngster who rode by in a
coach of gold and brandished a singularly unregal chapeau.
His alert eyes were searching the crowd along the street, in the
balconies and windows with an eager intensity. He was looking for the
sweet familiar face of the loveliest girl on earth, and knew that he
looked in vain, for even though she were one among the many her
features would be obscured by an impenetrable veil. If she were there,
he wondered what her thoughts might be on beholding the humble R.
Schmidt in the role of a royal prince receiving the laudations of the
loving multitude!
Passing the Regengetz, his eyes swept the rows of cheering people
banked upon its wide terrace and verandahs. He saw Mr. and Mrs.
Blithers well down in front, and for a second his heart seemed to stand
still. Would she be with them? It was with a distinct sensation of
relief that he realised that she was not with the smiling Americans.
Mr. Blithers waved his hat and, instead of shouting the
incomprehensible greeting of the native spectators, called out in
vociferous tones:
"Welcome home! Welcome! Hurrah!"
As the coach swerved into the circle and entered the great, tree-lined
avenue, followed by the clattering chorus of four thousand horse-shoes,
Mrs. Blithers after a final glimpse of the disappearing coach, sighed
profoundly, shook out her handkerchief from the crumpled ball she had
made of it with her nervously clenched fingers, touched her lips with
it and said:
"Oh, what a remarkably handsome, manly boy he is, Will."
Mr. Blithers nodded his head proudly. "He certainly is. I'll bet my
head that Maud is crazy about him already. She can't help it, Lou. That
trip on the _Jupiter_ was a God-send."
"I wish we could hear something from her," said Mrs. Blithers,
anxiously.
"Don't you worry," said he. "She'll turn up safe and sound and
enthusiastic before she's a week older. We'll have plain sailing from
now on, Lou."