James Van Teyl glanced curiously at the small, dark figure standing
patiently before him, and then back again at the wireless cable which
he held in his fingers. He was just back from a tiring day in Wall
Street, and was reclining in the most comfortable easy-chair of his
Hotel Plaza sitting-room.
"Gee!" he murmured. "This beats me. The last thing I should have
thought we wanted here was a valet. The fellow who looks after this
suite has scarcely anything else to do. What did you say your name
was?"
"Nikasti, sir."
Van Teyl carefully reconsidered the cable. It certainly seemed to leave
no room for misunderstanding.
Please engage for our service, as valet, Nikasti. See that he enters on
his duties at once. Hope land this evening. Your sister on board sends
love.--F.
"Well that seems clear enough," the young man muttered, thrusting the
form into his waistcoat pocket. "You're here to stay, I guess, Nikasti?
I see you've brought your kit along."
"In case you decided to engage me, sir," the man replied.
"Oh, you are engaged right enough," Van Teyl assured him. "You'd better
make the best job you can of putting out my evening clothes. If you
ring for the floor valet, he'll help you. The bedrooms are through that
door."
"Very good, sir!"
"I am going down to the barber's now," Van Teyl continued, rising to
his feet. "Just remember this, Nikasti--what a name, by the bye!"
"I could be called Kato," the man suggested.
"Kato for me all the time," his prospective employer agreed. "Well,
listen. My sister, Miss Van Teyl, arrives from Europe on the _Lapland_
this evening. If she comes in or rings up, say I'm here and I want to
see her at once. You understand?"
"I understand, sir."
Van Teyl strolled out, and Kato disappeared into the inner room. The
floor valet, dressed in the dark blue livery of the hotel, was already
laying out his master's dinner clothes. He eyed the intruder a little
truculently.
"Who are you, anyway?" he inquired.
"My name is Nikasti," was the quiet reply. "Mr. Van Teyl has engaged me
as his valet, to wait upon him and Mr. Fischer."
The man laid down the shirt into which he was fixing the studs.
"That's some news," he remarked bitterly.
"To wait on Mr. Van Teyl and Mr. Fischer, eh? What the hell do they
want you for?"
Nikasti shook his head slowly. He was very small, and his dark eyes
seemed filled with melancholy.
"It is not for a very long time," he ventured.
"Long enough to do me out of my five dollars' tip every week," the man
grumbled. "I'm a married man, too, and a good American. Blast you
fellows, coming and taking our jobs away! Can't think what they let you
into the country for."
"I am sorry," Nikasti murmured.
"Your sorrow don't bring me in my five dollars," the valet retorted
bitterly. "There's only two suites on this floor to work for, anyway,
and this is the only one worth a cent."
"I am taking the situation," the other explained, "for the sake of
experience. I do not wish to rob you of your earnings. I will pay you
the five dollars a week while I stay here. You shall help me with the
work."
"That's a deal, my little yellow-skinned kid," the valet agreed in a
tone of relief. "I'll show you where the things are kept."
His new coadjutor bowed.
"The telephone is ringing in the master's room," he observed. "You
shall remain here, and I will answer it."
"That goes, Jappy," the man acquiesced. "If it's a young lady take her
name, but don't say that Mr. Van Teyl's about. Forward young baggages
some of them are."
Nikasti glided from the room, closed the door, and approached the
telephone receiver.
"Yes," he acknowledged, "these are the rooms of Mr. Van Teyl... No,
madam, Mr. Van Teyl is not in at present."
There was a moment's pause. Nikasti's face was impenetrable as he
listened, but his eyes glowed.
"Yes, I understand, madam," he said softly. "You are Miss Van Teyl, and
you wish to speak to your brother. The moment Mr. Van Teyl returns I
will ring you up or fetch you."
He replaced the receiver upon its hook, and returned to the bedroom.
For some little time he was initiated into the mysteries of his new
master's studs, boots and shoes, and general taste in wearing apparel.
Then the latter entered the sitting-room, and Nikasti obeyed his
summons.
"Anyone called me up?" he inquired.
"No one, sir."
Van Teyl glanced at the clock in an undecided manner.
"I'll change right away," he decided. "Just set things to rights in
here, fill my cigarette case, and hang round by the telephone."
Nikasti bowed, and the young man disappeared into the inner room. His
new attendant waited until the door was closed. Then he removed the
receiver from its hook, laid it upon the table, and moved stealthily
towards the open fireplace. For several moments he remained in an
attitude of listening, then with quick, lithe fingers he drew from his
pocket a cable dispatch, reread it with an air of complete absorption,
and committed it to the flames. He watched it burn, and turned away
from the contemplation of its grey ashes with a sigh of content.
Suddenly he started. The door of the sitting-room had been opened and
closed. A tall, broad-shouldered man, wearing gold-rimmed spectacles, a
long travelling coat and a Homburg hat, was standing watching him.
Nikasti was only momentarily disturbed. His look of gentle inquiry was
perfect.
"You wish to see my master--Mr. Van Teyl?" he asked.
"Where is he?" Fischer demanded.
"He is dressing in the next apartment. I will take him your name."
Fischer threw his coat and hat upon the table.
"That'll do directly," he replied. "So you're Nikasti?"
They looked at one another for a moment. The face of the Japanese was
smooth, bland, and imperturbable. His eyes were innocent even of any
question. Fischer's forehead was wrinkled, and his brows drawn close
together.
"I am Nikasti," the other acknowledged--"Kato Nikasti. Mr. Van Teyl has
just engaged me as his valet."
"You can take off the gloves," Fischer told him. "I am Oscar Fischer."
"Oscar Fischer," Nikasti repeated.
"Yes! ... Burning something when I came in weren't you? Looked like a
cable, eh?"
"A dispatch from London," Nikasti confided.
"Nothing that would interest me, eh?"
"It was a family message," was the calm response. "It did not concern
the affair which is between us."
"How came you to speak English like this?" Fischer inquired.
"I was at Oxford University for two years," Nikasti told him, "and in
the Embassy at London for five more."
"Before you took up your present job, eh?"
Nikasti assented silently. Fischer glanced around as though to make
sure that they were still alone.
"I have the communication with me," he announced, "which we are to
discuss. The terms of our proposal are clearly set out, and they are
signed by the Highest of all himself. The letter embodying them was
handed to me three weeks ago to-day in Berlin. Have you been to
Washington?"
Nikasti shook his head.
"I do not go to Washington," he said. "You will understand that
diplomatically, as you would put it, I do not exist. Neither is it
necessary. I am here to listen."
Fischer nodded.
"There need be very little delay, then," he observed, "before we get to
work."
Nikasti bowed and raised his forefinger in warning.
"I think," he whispered, "that Mr. Van Teyl has finished dressing."