"God bless my soul!" he muttered feebly--"It's like a dream!--I was
never more astonished in my life!"
"Nor I!" I said, another temptation to laughter threatening my
composure,--"But strange things happen in life, as in fiction. And that
book which the builders--I mean the readers--rejected, shall be the
headstone of the corner--or--the success of the season! What will you
take to bring it out?"
"Take? I? I bring it out!"
"Yes, you--why not? If I offer you a chance to turn an honest penny
shall your paid pack of 'readers' prevent your accepting it? Fie! you
are not a slave,--this is a free country. I know the kind of people who
'read' for you,--the gaunt unlovable spinster of fifty,--the dyspeptic
book-worm who is a 'literary failure' and can find nothing else to do
but scrawl growling comments on the manuscript of promising work,--why
in heaven's name should you rely on such incompetent opinion? I'll pay
you for the publication of my book at as stiff a price as you choose and
something over for good-will. And I guarantee you another thing--it
shall not only make my name as an author, but yours as a publisher. I'll
advertise royally, and I'll work the press. Everything in this world can
be done for money ..."
"Stop, stop,"--he interrupted.--"This is so sudden! You must let me
think of it--you must give me time to consider----"
"Take a day for your meditations then," I said--"But no longer. For if
you don't say yes, I'll get another man, and he'll have the big pickings
instead of you! Be wise in time, my friend!--good-day!"
He ran after me.
"Stay,--look here! You're so strange, so wild--so erratic you know! Your
head seems quite turned!"
"It is! The right way round this time!"
"Dear dear me," and he smiled benevolently--"Why, you don't give me a
chance to congratulate you. I really do, you know--I congratulate you
sincerely!" And he shook me by the hand quite fervently. "And as regards
the book I believe there was really no fault found with it in the
matter of literary style or quality,--it was simply too--too
transcendental, and unlikely therefore to suit the public taste. The
Domestic-Iniquity line is what we find pays best at present. But I will
think about it--where will a letter find you?"
"Grand Hotel," I responded, inwardly amused at his puzzled and anxious
expression--I knew he was already mentally calculating how much he could
make out of me in the pursuit of my literary whim--"Come there, and
lunch or dine with me to-morrow if you like--only send me a word
beforehand. Remember, I give you just a day's grace to decide,--it must
be yes or no, in twenty-four hours!"
And with this I left him, staring vaguely after me like a man who has
seen some nameless wonder drop out of the sky at his feet. I went on,
laughing to myself inaudibly, till I saw one or two passers-by looking
at me so surprisedly that I came to the conclusion that I must put a
disguise on my thoughts if I would not be taken for a madman. I walked
briskly, and presently my excitement cooled down. I resumed the normal
condition of the phlegmatic Englishman who considers it the height of
bad form to display any personal emotion whatever, and I occupied the
rest of the morning in purchasing some ready-made apparel which by
unusual good luck happened to fit me, and also in giving an extensive,
not to say extravagant order to a fashionable tailor in Sackville Street
who promised me everything with punctuality and despatch. I next sent
off the rent I owed to the landlady of my former lodgings, adding five
pounds extra by way of recognition of the poor woman's long patience in
giving me credit, and general kindness towards me during my stay in her
dismal house,--and this done I returned to the Grand in high spirits,
looking and feeling very much the better for my ready-made outfit. A
waiter met me in the corridor and with the most obsequious deference,
informed me that 'his excellency the prince' was waiting luncheon for me
in his own apartments. Thither I repaired at once, and found my new
friend alone in his sumptuous drawing-room, standing near the full light
of the largest window and holding in his hand an oblong crystal case
through which he was looking with an almost affectionate solicitude.
"Ah, Geoffrey! Here you are!" he exclaimed--"I imagined you would get
through your business by lunch time, so I waited."
"Very good of you!" I said, pleased at the friendly familiarity he
displayed in thus calling me by my Christian name--"What have you got
there?"
"A pet of mine,"--he answered, smiling slightly--"Did you ever see
anything like it before?"