The Island Mystery Part 14

"I'm sure I don't know," said Gorman. "I haven't seen her for weeks.

She's yachting in the Mediterranean with her father. If I were you I'd give up Miss Donovan and look out for a queen."

"Thank you," said Goldsturmer. "But if I give up Miss Donovan I think I shall not buy the pearls from Madame Ypsilante. There are, alas, few queens."

Gorman was not, after all, more than five minutes late for dinner. The King was waiting for him, but without any sign of impatience. Madame Ypsilante entered the room a minute or two later.

She was wearing a purple velvet dress which struck Gorman as a very regal garment. Round her neck was a magnificent rope of pearls. Gorman had no doubt that they were those of which Goldsturmer had spoken.

They were finer than any he had ever seen. It was easy to believe that there was no other such necklace in the world and that only a queen should wear them. But they suited Madame Ypsilante. She would, so far as her appearance went, have made a very fine queen.

During dinner the conversation was about Paris. The King spoke of pleasant adventures there, of the life he and Madame had lived, of the delight of having money to spend, really enough of it, in a city like Paris. He told his stories well, his vehemently idiomatic English emphasizing his points. He became lyrical in his appreciation of the joys of life. When dessert was on the table and port took the place of champagne he lapsed into a philosophic mood.

"The d.a.m.ned G.o.ds of life," he said, "are blind of one eye. They are lame and they limp. They are left-handed. They give the oof, the dollars, the shekels, and do not give the power to enjoy. The Americans--your Donovan, for example. What does he know of pleasure?

The English of your middling cla.s.ses. What is Paris to them? They have money but no more. Those left-handed G.o.ds have given a useless gift.

On me and on Corinne they have bestowed the power, the knowledge, the skill to enjoy; and we, d.a.m.n it all, have no money."

The King sighed deeply. Madame Ypsilante had tears in her eyes. She was in full sympathy with the King's new mood. Gorman was astonished.

The price which Mr. Donovan had paid for the crown of Salissa was a large one. Even after ten thousand pounds had been spent on Madame Ypsilante's pearls there was a sum left which it would be difficult to spend in a few weeks.

"Surely," he said, "you haven't got rid of all the money yet? You can't have spent it in the time. I didn't think you could be hard up again so soon. Even when I heard that Madame wanted to sell her pearls----"

"Sell my pearls!" said Madame. "But never! Never, never!!"

There were no tears in her eyes then. The mood of self-pity induced by the King's reflections on left-handed G.o.ds had pa.s.sed away. She looked fierce as a tigress when she shot out her next question to Gorman.

"Who has said that I wish to sell my pearls? Who has said it? I demand. I insist: Tell me his name and I will at once kill him. I shall pluck out his heart and dogs shall eat it."

Gorman did not care whether Goldsturmer's heart was eaten by dogs or not. He did want to understand how it came that the astute Jew expected to have the pearls offered to him. It was plain that Madame Ypsilante did not want to sell them and that she had not suggested the sale.

"It was Goldsturmer," said Gorman, "who told me. He seemed to think that Miss Donovan might buy them."

Madame at once knocked down two wine-gla.s.ses and a vase of flowers.

"That cursed offspring of the litter of filthy Jews who make Hamburg stink! Tell him that I will pull out his hair, his teeth, his eyes, but that never, never will that American miss touch one of my pearls.

I will not sell, will not, will not."

The King looked round. He satisfied himself that the waiters had left the room.

"Alas," he said, "alas, my poor Corinne! But consider. There is an English proverb: the horse needs must trot along, trot smart, when it is the devil who drives."

"He is the devil, that Emperor," said Madame. "But not for any Emperor will I part with one single pearl."

"Look here," said Gorman. "There's evidently been some mistake about Goldsturmer and the pearls. I don't profess to understand what's happening, but if I'm to help you in any way----"

"You are to help d.a.m.nably," said the King. "Are you not our friend?"

"In that case," said Gorman, "before I go a step further into the matter I must know what on earth the Emperor has got to do with Madame's pearls."

"The Emperor," said Madame Ypsilante, "is a devil."

"Take another gla.s.s of port," said the King. "No? Then light a cigar. If you will light a cigar and fill for yourself a gla.s.s of brandy--also for Corinne--I will tell you about the Emperor."

Gorman filled Madame's gla.s.s and his own. He was particular about Madame's. Brandy had a soothing influence on her. He did not like her habit of throwing things about in moments of excitement. He also lit a cigar.

"I will make my breast clean of the whole affair," said the King.

"Then you will understand and help us. The Emperor has spilt cold water all over Salissa--that is over the sale of the island to the American."

"The Emperor must have very little to do," said Gorman, "if he has time to waste in fussing about a wretched little island like Salissa.

How did he hear about the sale?"

"I think," said the King, "that Steinwitz must have permitted the cat to jump out of the bag. Steinwitz smelt rats, of that I am sure."

"I daresay you're right," said Gorman. "I rather thought Steinwitz was nosing around. But why does the Emperor mind? That's what I'm trying to get at."

The King shrugged his shoulders.

"Who knows?" he said. "_Real Politik_, perhaps. What you call----How do you call _Real Politik_?"

"Haven't got a word for it," said Gorman. "For the matter of that we haven't got the thing. We manage along all right with sham politics, Ireland and Insurance Acts and the rest of it. If real politics lead to trouble over places like Salissa I prefer our home-made imitation.

But _Real Politik_ or not, the thing's done; so what's the good of the Emperor talking?"

"The Emperor," said the King, "says 'Buy back. Take again your island. Foot--no, it is foot of a horse--hoof, or boot away the American. Give him his price and let him go.' And I cannot. It is no longer possible to give back the oof."

"I quite understand that," said Gorman. "Your six weeks in Paris and Madame's pearls----"

"The Emperor shall not touch my pearls," said Madame Ypsilante.

"Rather would I swallow them."

"The American," said the King, "will perhaps accept a reduced price.

The island is not an amusing place. Dull, my friend, dull as ditch mud. By this time he has found out that Salissa is as respectable as Sunday, as golf, as what you call a seasonable ticket. He will not want to keep it. He will accept a price, perhaps, if I offer."

"I don't expect he'll accept a price at all," said Gorman, "reduced or increased. I don't _know_, of course. He may be dead sick of the place already; but I'll be surprised if he is. You'll find when you ask him that he'll simply refuse to part with the island."

"But," said the King, "he must. As I have just said to Corinne, when the devil drives the horse to water it needs must take a drink. The Emperor has said that Salissa is once more to return to the Crown of Megalia."

"The Emperor may say that," said Gorman, "but it doesn't at all follow that Donovan will agree with him."

"But the Emperor----! It is not for Mr. Donovan to agree or disagree with the Emperor. When the Emperor commands it is a case of knuckles down. But you do not know the Emperor."

"I do not," said Gorman, "but I'm inclined to think that you take an exaggerated view of him. After all, what can he do to Donovan or to you for that matter? Come now, suppose you won't or can't buy back the island, what happens? What's the alternative? There must be an alternative of some sort."

"There is--yes, there certainly is an alternative."

The King paused and looked apprehensively at Madame Ypsilante.

"He can't lay hands on you," said Gorman, "if you stick to Paris or even London. That Emperor isn't particularly popular in either city."

The King, his eyes still fixed on Madame Ypsilante, nodded sideways towards Gorman. The nod was a very slight one, barely perceptible. It suggested the need of extreme caution. Gorman is a quick-witted man and he saw the nod, but he failed altogether to guess what the alternative was.

Madame Ypsilante noticed the expression of the King's face when he looked at her. She also saw the nod that was meant for Gorman. She became uneasy. Her eyes had a hard glitter in them. Gorman at once refilled her gla.s.s. That soothed her a little. She did not break anything. But she spoke: