A Bearding of the Lion
Susie Rushford was of that temperament which, so far from avoiding
difficulties, rather rushes to meet them, welcoming "each rebuff that
turns earth's smoothness rough," to quote again from her favourite poet.
So, when they reached the end of the promenade, it was she who commanded
a change of partners and who took her place resolutely beside the
invalid chair. Perhaps Lord Vernon scented danger, or it may be that he
merely resented the change of companions: at any rate, as they started
back, he contented himself with a dignified silence. But Sue was not to
be so easily put off.
"The Prince of Markeld has been telling me a few things about the
succession," she began, resolutely. "You will pardon me, Lord Vernon,
when I say I don't think you're treating him quite fairly."
"I don't think so myself, Miss Rushford," returned the occupant of the
chair, curtly.
"His branch of the house seems to be really, in every way, the more
deserving."
"I haven't the least doubt of it."
"And the one which the people of Schloshold-Markheim prefer."
"That, too, is very probably the case. We threshed all that out
yesterday, didn't we?"
"Not so thoroughly as I should like to do," said Susie. "I've been
thinking over the story you told me yesterday, and I believe I've
guessed who the man with the pistol is."
"I thought very probably you would guess."
"Did you? Then you won't mind telling me if I've guessed rightly. It's
the German Emperor, isn't it?"
"It is."
"Thank you. But I'm awfully obtuse, for I must confess that I haven't
as yet been able to perceive the pistol."
"Haven't you? I thought you'd guess that, too. I had forgotten that
American women aren't interested in public events."
"Now you're growing sarcastic!" cried Susie. "You see, I never before
knew how interesting they were," she added, in self-defence. "I'm trying
to turn over a new leaf--"
"And you want my help?"
"I always like to understand things. Even as a child I hated riddles.
And I think, too, that nations ought to be like individuals--only more
so--always ready, anxious even, to help their friends."
"Even to the point of disregarding the pistol?"
"You'll have to show me the pistol."
"I'll try to, Miss Rushford," said Vernon, with the air of a man staking
his last louis, "since you seem to doubt that it exists. Let us look at
the matter for a moment from the outside, without question of our
personal likes or dislikes. England, just at this moment, has her hands
full in South Africa, and it isn't in the least unlikely that the German
Emperor would put a finger in that pie, if we gave him an excuse--a
great many of his advisers are trying to get him to interfere without
waiting for the excuse, but he's not quite willing to go that far. So
our business is not to give him any excuse--not even the very
slightest. Suppose we meddle in this affair of Schloshold-Markheim,
which is really his dependency--don't you see, he might easily, and
quite logically, claim that as a precedent for meddling in the affairs
of the Transvaal, which we claim as our dependency. Now I hope that you
perceive the pistol, and see, too, that it isn't in the least a toy
affair, but a very dangerous and effective weapon."
"I do see," said Susie, quickly.
"Besides," Vernon added, anxious to vindicate himself still further,
since, after all, Susie was Nell's sister, "Schloshold-Markheim is a
very insignificant corner of this earth; not so big, in fact, as many of
our English shires. Self-preservation is the first law of nations. Why
should England imperil herself? You see, the whole question reduces
itself to that old, heartless, but very sane doctrine of the greatest
good of the greatest number."
"Why not say all that frankly to the Prince of Markeld?" suggested Sue.
"Because, my dear young lady, before we can say anything, we have to
give him a chance to say his say. And he would very probably state
certain truths which it would be very embarrassing for us to hear, and
still more embarrassing to answer. All Europe would be listening. We're
between the devil and the deep sea."
"Well, and what are you going to do about it?" asked Susie, plump out.
"We're going to wait," said Lord Vernon, gloomily.
"To wait?"
"Yes--until the sea subsides a little or the devil gets tired and goes
away and gives us a chance to escape. We dare neither fight the devil
nor brave the ocean. Our hands are tied."
Susie walked along a moment in silence, trying to distinguish the wrong
and the right of this very intricate question.
"All that you have been telling me may be true," she said, at last; "I
haven't the least doubt that it is true; but yet it doesn't quite excuse
tricking the Prince of Markeld as you are doing."
"I know it doesn't," admitted Vernon, instantly. "It doesn't excuse it
in the least. I don't like it any more than you do, Miss Rushford. But
the ways of diplomacy are devious past understanding; and then, again,
when one has entered upon a line of action, it is sometimes very hard
to change it or let go. It's like a hot iron or a charged wire--one
never realises one's mistake until it is too late. After all, a few days
will end it."
"A few days! Then the Prince was right!"
"Right?"
"He told me that an undercurrent of some sort seemed to be setting in
against him. I warn you, Lord Vernon, that I have become his ally."
"Even to the point of giving me away?" he inquired, half humourously,
looking at her in evident enjoyment.
"Even to the point of giving you away, if you don't play fairly," she
answered, in deadly earnest. "At your suggestion, he consented to a
truce for a week--"
"It was Collins who suggested it."
"No matter; it is all the same; the proposal came from your side. One
can't honourably employ a truce in laying mines for one's enemy."
Lord Vernon was looking straight ahead. There was now no trace of
amusement in his face.
"You are quite right, Miss Rushford," he said. "I release you from any
engagement with either me or Collins to keep our secret. Let me tell
you, I've protested more than once, but I'm no longer a free agent in
regard to this thing, and I have to see it through. The very worst
moment of all was when Markeld came up to my rooms and apologised for
suspecting me. I tell you, I felt like a worm, and a particularly nasty
one, at that. It will be my turn to apologise before long; and I won't
feel quite easy in my conscience till I do."
Susie had listened wide-eyed, and had stolen a glance, once or twice, at
his set face. There could be no doubting his utter sincerity, and it
softened her, as sincerity always softens a woman.
"Of course," she said, more gently, "I shan't give you away unless I
see that the Prince is being treated unfairly. Let things drift for a
week, since he has consented to a truce--don't do anything against him."
The words were spoken almost pleadingly.
"Oh, it isn't I who will do anything," retorted Lord Vernon, sharply.
"I'm not quite such a cur as that. Don't you understand, Miss
Rushford--the thing is out of my hands--is quite beyond my control. I'm
not the one responsible for the undercurrent, if there is one. If
anything happens, it won't be through any act of mine--it will be in
spite of me."
"But I thought--"
"You thought the foreign secretary was the whole thing? Well, he isn't!
There's a dozen other members of the cabinet, more or less, to mix in,
and, when all's said, the premier has to approve, and after that the
Queen. And all of us are more or less afraid of the press, to say
nothing of the House of Commons, where the opposition is always trying
to put us in an awkward corner. So our motives are usually pretty mixed,
and it's very rarely that we can do just as we'd like to do."
"Then," said Susie, slowly, "I think that I must tell the Prince."
"Do so, by all means," retorted her companion, a little impatiently. "I
give you full permission, if you care to take the responsibility. But, I
assure you, it's a heavy one."
"Oh, not so awfully heavy!" said Susie, sceptically. "You have already
told me what a little place Schloshold-Markheim is."
"It _is_ little; but so is the pivot that a great piece of machinery
swings on. Collins said yesterday that the peace of Europe may hang upon
this question. I laughed at him then, but it's not at all impossible
that he may be right. Of course, with a little thing like the peace of
Europe, every schoolgirl has the right to meddle! A million of human
beings, more or less--what do they amount to? Let us slaughter them,
maim them, outrage them, burn their houses, destroy their crops! Let us
put great armies in the field, and fight great battles and think only of
the glory! Don't look at the shapeless things beneath the hoofs of the
horses, nor think of the women waiting at home--waiting for the lists of
dead and missing! Let us release the spring that will set all this in
motion--it requires only a touch, the merest touch! And think, we should
be making history! Besides, our honour requires it! We must be jealous
of our honour--it is of so much more importance than the peace of
Europe!"
And Vernon, having arrived at the hotel entrance, bade them good-bye and
was wheeled to the lift, leaving his companion rather breathless.