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"Ach, himmel!" said he, nodding to Ashton-Kirk, whose eye he happened to catch, "some the sense of humor have not. As for me, always do I laugh, whether the joke is on me or not."
"You are to be envied," replied the secret agent.
The little man c.o.c.ked his eye at Matsadi in a most knowing manner.
"I have heard it said, 'That the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong,'" he said. "Was it a psalmist, a prophet or a poet of our own time who so spoke? But no matter, it is very good--but not complete. One might add 'That the reward is not always to the industrious.'"
Observing that he was being spoken to, the j.a.panese leaned forward.
"I beg your pardon?" said he, inquiringly.
"There is philosophy in the wine," observed the German, and he added to the l.u.s.ter of his brilliant scalp by rubbing it with a handkerchief.
"And with me its wisdom stays upon the tongue."
The j.a.panese smiled sedately.
"I have noticed that," said he.
The other laughed and quivered with all his round little body.
"Good," said he. "I was in hopes that you would wake up." Then he went on in a sort of musing tone, but with dancing eyes: "Many a man has toiled early and late to make a plant fruitful; and the result of his work is that some idle one, who laughs and drinks and snaps his fingers at labor, has the ripened fruit fall into his lap."
Matsadi seemed not to grasp the meaning of this; at any rate he smiled in a vague sort of way and contented himself with nodding his head. Very little pa.s.sed between them after this, as the j.a.panese had his attention taken by the lady beside him; but later, in the coat room, Ashton-Kirk heard him say to the German:
"Your simile of the industrious planter and the vagabond was a very excellent one. And it frequently happens so. I was much struck with it."
A young man, wearing a number of Austrian orders, said, as he was being helped on with his coat:
"Are you going on to Von Stunnenberg's, Matsadi? Perhaps I could give you a lift."
"Thank you," said the j.a.panese. "Yes, I had thought of going."
"I'll wait for you," said the other, as he went out.
Matsadi took up his gloves and hat; he paused before the laughing German.
"Yes," said he, and there was a thoughtful look upon his face, "your parable was a good one. But does the story always end so? As the idle one lifts the fruit to his greedy lips, do I not see the patient toiler reaching out to s.n.a.t.c.h it from him?"
And as Matsadi hurried after the Austrian, the portly little man chuckled rapturously.
"They are so like children," said he.
As Ashton-Kirk shook hands with the secretary, the latter said:
"I trust that Stelzner entertained you. He loves to make a parade behind the wall of innuendo and allusion when he is well fed. And, then, I fancied that he might have heard something."
"He was invaluable," said Ashton-Kirk. "And," with a smile, "Matsadi was not without his interesting weaknesses." After a short pause he said: "There is to be something or other to-night at the house of the German amba.s.sador, Von Stunnenberg?"
"Yes, a ball, I believe."
"As a rule I avoid such things," said the secret agent; "but if you could manage to have me received at this one, I should be delighted.
CHAPTER XXII
THE GERMAN EMBa.s.sY BALL
The street before the German Emba.s.sy was thronged with motor-cars and carriages; the windows sparkled with lights; lines of police sharply directed traffic and saw to it that the s.p.a.ce before the building was kept open.
It was perhaps eleven o'clock when Ashton-Kirk, accompanied by Fuller, arrived. The latter gazed about the glittering rooms, astonished.
"I'm not sure which it most resembles," he said, "a masked ball without the masks, or an ensemble number in a musical comedy."
The women were magnificent; their gowns shone, their shoulders and arms gleamed under the many lights. The officers attached to the various emba.s.sies made a das.h.i.+ng picture in their gorgeous uniforms; the official dress of the diplomats was stately and picturesque. Here was a white-haired old Austrian, his chest aglitter with crosses and orders, engaged with the Turkish envoy; the Chinese minister, his flowing silken robes tucked in about him, sat placidly in the midst of a group of admiring ladies; the flaming scarlet and gold lace of one South American republic contrasted strongly with the white and silver of another; Mexico vied with Russia in splendor, while less spectacular states ran from sober greens and grays to the plain black of conventional dress.
Plants and lights were everywhere; from the ballroom came the strains of a German waltz; the dancers floated about upon the s.h.i.+ning floor.
The handsome Baroness Von Stunnenberg greeted the secret agent and his aide; the amba.s.sador, who was a ma.s.sive man with a snowy, up-twisted moustache and the stride of a Prussian cavalryman, stood near by.
"I was informed of your coming," he said to Ashton-Kirk. "And although I do not quite understand, still I am pleased to see you."
The secret agent had replied, and Von Stunnenberg was turning away when a delighted voice exclaimed:
"Kirk, old chap, I'm astonished! Here, of all places in the world."
Ashton-Kirk turned and came face to face with a brilliantly beautiful woman, and a young man with a vastly contented look.
"Mrs. Pendleton," said the secret agent, as he took the outstretched hand, "I can only repeat your husband's exclamation, 'Here, of all places in the world.'"
"But what does it mean?" demanded Jimmie Pendleton, as he, too, gripped his friend by the hand. "Here you are--you whom I have heard discourse so wisely about such affairs as this--the folly and the vanity of it, and the----" but he paused, snapped his fingers and turned to his wife.
"I know what it is! He's here on business."
Mrs. Pendleton gestured her dismay.
"Not that, surely," she said. "There can scarcely be anything here to attract your talents," laughingly to the secret agent. "Amba.s.sadors are the frankest of men, and their doings are open to every one."
"The Baroness and Edyth are cronies," Pendleton informed the other, as his wife turned to the hostess. The latter's expression as Mrs.
Pendleton spoke to her in a low tone changed formal politeness to one of interest.
"Oh!" she said; "my dear, I'm afraid of him. And so," smiling to Ashton-Kirk, "you are the remarkable person of whom Mrs. Pendleton has spoken so often? Well, if I ever become involved in a mystery, I promise to call in no one but you."
"I shall be flattered by your confidence," said Ashton-Kirk in the same light tone. "But, I warn you, Mrs. Pendleton is scarcely to be depended upon as regards my work. She allowed herself to be dazzled by a trifling dexterity, so to speak, and makes a very wonderful performance of something that was not at all remarkable."
"Oh, these modest men," sighed the Baroness. "The world is so full of them." In turn she spoke a few words to her husband. His big German head reared, and he curled the upstanding points of his moustache.
"I have heard of you, sir," and his blue eyes searched the secret agent from head to foot.