The tremendous walls of the fjord were black, but the moon poured
in a flood of light. There had been a sharp breeze earlier in the
evening, and Fessenden had invited the Emperor out in _Pocahontas_;
then, perceiving the difficulty of keeping him quiet, had given him
the sheet. The Emperor had accepted the invitation with alacrity--he
was not only happy and at home in a canoe, but although he had now
had several long conversations with the young American, something
in this new personality evaded him, and he was determined to find
it. Fessenden, on the other hand, was studying him attentively, his
interest in the most remarkable specimen of living royalty quite
distinct from his liking for the man. William had not refrained from
questions during this past week, and Fessenden had been permitted to
learn Germany from the Throne. When he had mentioned that he intended,
a year or two hence, to tramp the Empire and study it from another
point of view, the Kaiser had promptly extracted a promise to bring the
burden of his information to Berlin.
William expressed a lively sympathy for his young friend’s desire for
immediate distinction, and confided some of the difficulties of majesty
in getting its own way. Nevertheless he felt that Fessenden, despite
his romantic enthusiasm for himself, was frank only to a certain point.
He thought of all in his own depths that he could give to no man,
and forbore to press him too closely; but his abnormally acute brain
suspected something in that deliberate reserve which concerned himself,
and he had accepted the proposal of the lonely sail in the hope of an
impulsive confidence. He had no suspicion that the younger man had
brought him out for the purpose of making this confidence.
The wind fell, and they left the canoe to stretch their legs.
“Do you really believe in the divine right of kings?” asked Fessenden
abruptly. “I mean _you_.”
The Emperor stared, then laughed outright. “Certainly!” he announced in
that harsh abrupt voice which conveyed the impression that he had not
the patience to lie. Then, having his own reasons for expanding under
the influence of the lonely moon, he added: “Is not a peasant a peasant
by divine law? How much more a hereditary ruler with his terrible
responsibilities! With our vast fund of inherited knowledge and
traditions, our instinct for rule, our gift of commanding respect and
obedience, we are far more successful as rulers than your presidents,
chosen every four or eight years from all sorts and conditions of
life, and more often for some unworthy political reason than for any
merit in the man.” He added deliberately: “The monarchs of the earth
are the chosen deputies of God in Heaven; they rule their people by
right divine. The time will come when you will feel this as deeply as I
do now. Of course my understanding is illumined with the torch of the
centuries; but there must be a beginning,” he added graciously.
“And you disassociate yourself absolutely from the race?”
“Certainly. So will you one day.”
“I am a good democrat, and I believe in the principles of the American
Constitution and the Declaration of Independence.”
“Quite so--as long as they are permitted to hold; but when your
revolution comes they will go down with the rest, and then you will no
longer be a democrat.” The pronounced roll of William’s r-r-r-r’s made
him utter the last word as if he hated it.
“And I suppose you think the Monroe Doctrine would go too?”
“It would be as well to begin a new government on a sensible
international basis,” said the Emperor dryly. “That doctrine only
maintains its fictitious life by the courtesy, or perhaps I should say
the indifference--the present indifference--of Europe. It means nothing
until you have established it by force of arms. It would be better to
abandon it gracefully while there is yet time.”
The two men were picking their way through an uneven pass. Fessenden
halted and leaned against the wall of rock. He fixed his eyes, which
in the brilliant night light shone like steel, on the imperious and
searching orbs that swung round him abruptly.
“It is by converting the Monroe Doctrine from a theory into a principle
of international law without a war with Europe that I propose to make
my fame,” he said.
William’s pale face twitched, then settled into its hardest lines.
He returned Fessenden’s stare, and there was neither friendship nor
good-fellowship in his eyes; he was a monarch on the alert in the
presence of the enemy. It was a moment before he spoke; then he said
coldly:
“It is a large and, no doubt, patriotic idea. I shall be interested to
watch the method develop. When shall you get to work? When shall Europe
have its first astonished glimpse of your purpose?”
“Europe will know nothing until it is too late to interfere; but I
shall tell you the whole scheme now.”
“Tell me!” cried the German Emperor in his astonishment.
“I owe the idea to you, and, crazy as it may appear, I shall confide
it to you. I should be rather base if I did not; and I rely, if not on
your generosity, then on your foresight, to let me alone. You can have
Europe, and welcome, and when the time comes that you need my help you
will get it; but you can’t have South America--not an inch of it; and
now I’ll tell you why--”
“Suppose I decline to listen?”--and none but himself could know what it
cost him to admit that possibility. But the excitable color had flashed
into his face, and his eyes were glittering. “If I do listen,” he added
in a moment, “I decline to commit myself beforehand.”
“It won’t matter. Even if you betrayed me you could not obstruct my
purpose. Of course I wish my secret kept. Only the fool takes the world
into his confidence. I only tell you--well, not so much for the reason
I just gave, as because you have given me your friendship, and I like
you better than any one on earth except my father. You would have
suggested the idea in any case; and if we had been cut out for enemies
I’d have left the next day, and it would have been a year before you
would have known what I was up to.”
The Emperor’s face did not soften. He felt anything but sentimental.
“Why are you so sure that Europe--that I--could not balk you?” he asked.
“Because I have a hundred million dollars at my disposal at the present
moment, and the work will be done before you can cook up a war with the
United States.”
The Emperor turned gray, and let his temper fly. “Damn your American
billions!” he cried. “If I could lay my hands on that amount--”
“Well,” said Fessenden. “When the time comes you can have it.”