"You're a veritable Daniel," Courtney laughed. "What saith the
writing--or rather, what saith the uniform?"
"It's very simple to those who read uniforms."
"So!" said he. "I await the interpretation."
"It's too easy," I retorted. "A Point Plebe could do it. Your visitor
was one of His Majesty's Aides-de-Camp bearing an invitation to the
ball at the Palace to-night."
For once I saw Courtney's face show surprise.
"How did you guess it?" he said, after a pause.
"A diplomat should watch the newspapers," said I, and pointed to this
item in the Court News of that morning's issue:
"His Excellency the Honorable Richard Courtney, the newly accredited
American Ambassador, is expected to arrive to-day. He is accompanied
by Major Dalberg, the Military Attaché. His Majesty has ordered his
Aide-de-Camp, Colonel Bernheim, to invite them to the Birthday Ball
to-night; where they will be honored by a special presentation."
Courtney read it carefully. "At last I see the simple truth in a daily
paper," he commented. "But, as for you, my friend, button your coat
well over your heart for it's in for a hard thump tonight."
"So?" said I.
"There won't be so much indifference after you've met Her and--seen a
certain picture in the Corridor of Kings," he retorted, with a superior
smile.
"Think not?" said I, with another yawn. "What if I've done both years
ago?"
He eyed me sharply. "It's foolish to bluff when a show-down is
certain," he said.
"So one learns in the army."
"Of course not every hand needs to bluff," he said slowly.
"No--not every hand," I agreed.
He went over to the door. On the threshold he turned.
"I wonder if this is my laugh, or yours, to-night," he said.
"We will laugh together," I answered.
Then he went out.