The King of Alsander Part 16

"Well, sir, if you don't mind, my business is rather serious, and I should like to come straight to the point. And to begin with, I should like to ask you whether you have heard of the Alsander Advancement a.s.sociation."

"Never. Is it a co-operative store?"

"No, it purports to be a secret society, for the object--well, I don't know for what object."

"Of advancing Alsander?"

"I suppose so. But it seems to be really a conspirators' club to play bad practical jokes on innocent strangers. I was entrapped by one of its members."

"This is very interesting, very interesting, indeed. I may have to take a note of this. Hallo. Who's that? My dear Coca.s.so, I really can't this afternoon. I am being consulted on important business. Look up Ca.s.solis, he plays. My dear sir"--this to Norman--"you were entrapped?"

"I was entrapped. The society sat in state and pretended to examine me for the position of King of Alsander."

"Well, well, why not? I was examined to become Vice-Consul. We must all be examined, you know."

"Yes, but that was not all. I was stripped and mauled about by a fool who pretended to be a doctor."

"Stripped? Dear me! Stripped naked?"

"Yes, but worse was in store for me. Because I demanded an apology for their nonsense, I was beaten."

"Beaten? Dear me! Beaten with a stick? Gracious heavens! Very extraordinary! I must make a note of that. And what would you like me to do?"

"Why, what do you usually do when a British subject is stripped and beaten by a lot of dirty Dagoes?"

"I do not remember such an occurrence; so I have no precedent for dealing with this case. British subjects do not usually expose themselves, you see, to such odd adventures."

"Do understand that it is serious, sir," pursued Norman, whose fury had been gradually mounting in face of this official apathy. "What's the good of being an Englishman if one can't travel unmolested? What's the good of all those Dreadnoughts? What are they wasting coal in the North Sea for? Why don't they come here?"

"I must remind you," said the Consul, severely, "that you have no pa.s.sport. I cannot possibly send for the Fleet if you have no pa.s.sport.

For all I know you might be Siamese."

"Do I look it?" cried Norman, in dismay.

"Perhaps there are light-haired Siamese mountaineers who have learnt English from Indian friends. '_Quien Sabe_?' as we said at Barcelona."

"It is a shame, sir--you are fooling me!" Norman's temper had quite gone.

"Have you only just found that out?" said the Consul, his eyes twinkling.

"I shall write to the _Times_," cried Norman, rising from his chair to leave.

"My brother," said the Consul, with a smile, "edits the correspondence columns of that august journal. Of course, he will print your letter.

But he will also print"--here the Consul rose and his tone grew severer still--"a note to say that I treated you with all civility although you had no pa.s.sport and no letter of introduction, and that you deceived me to my certain knowledge by telling half-truths."

"Half-truths!" exclaimed Norman.

"What about the jewelled buckle that was presented to you by the society?"

"Why, I had forgotten about it."

"And--a much more serious matter--what about the injunction to silence which was laid on you by the President?"

"You did not let me finish my story. What do you know about the jewelled buckle? How do you know there was an injunction to silence?"

"That injunction to silence you had better have obeyed, sir. However, you may rely on my discretion. If you insist on demanding reparation, I am bound to state your case before higher authorities, but I warn you you will get none, and you will endanger your life and perhaps mine. The present made to you was an ample reparation for your temporary inconvenience. I will give you a few minutes to consider the matter."

Norman sat down, bewildered. Before he could think of anything the telephone bell rang again.

"Come in," called the Consul. Norman rose politely as the newcomer entered.

"Mr Norman Price. Signor Arnolfo," said the Consul, introducing them.

Norman was about to shake hands, but his hand fell. Signor Arnolfo, a young man in the national costume, was the handsome President himself!

[1] I should perhaps mention that the Consul of Alsander bears not the slightest resemblance to any Consul in the Levant, Alsander being of course a much coveted retiring post in the General Consular Service.

CHAPTER X

CONTAINS THE PRESIDENT'S TALE AND A DEBATE ON THE ADVANTAGES OF MURDER

There was a fine contrast between the two boys as they stood confronting each other. They were both young, handsome, beardless. But Norman was square, strong jawed, with a hint of the workman about him; his hair almost silver, his blue eyes and fair complexion as British as could be.

There was little to suggest anything more interesting than the handsome athlete about him save a fine, curious expression of the mouth, a bold forehead, and perhaps an exceptional regularity and symmetry of the features.

Arnolfo was in complete contrast: his whole body, though not well set off by the gorgeous but loose costume, seemed curiously slim and supple: his smooth, dark face had the spiritual beauty of the artist. No lack of determination in it, however, but the power was in the eyes rather than the chin, which was as softly rounded as a woman's. Of these eyes we can say but little; they were large dark eyes, but no poet can sing or painters paint the charms of the soul's windows. Even more beautiful was the mouth, on which hovered a smile. But though in the eyes of Arnolfo there shone a humorous sympathy, though his smile faded with obvious disappointment when Norman drew back his hand, Norman in his fury saw nothing but an insolent boy who had outraged him bitterly.

Scorning with a flash of chivalry to use his fist on so frail a person, he nevertheless could not help administering to Arnolfo there and then a ringing smack on the cheek.

"How dare you, sir, commit an outrage on one of my friends in my presence?" The Consul's voice rang out severe and incisive.

"One of your friends!" cried Norman, almost hysterical with wrath. "What business has a British Consul with friends who outrage British subjects?

I'd give you one, too," he added, savagely, "if it wasn't for your...."

"It is most impolite of you, sir," said the Consul, interrupting him and leaning across his desk, "to make any reference to the unfortunate state of my arm, due as it is, and as I have already hinted, to excessive zeal in the public service. Also, I may inform you, that you are quite welcome to go for me if you like. Your behaviour is uniformly gross. As for my infirmity, take that!"

And he dealt Norman across his desk a blow with the supposed withered arm which sent him reeling against the wall. Norman was about to reply to this onslaught in kind when Arnolfo interposed himself between them, his cheek still red from the blow.

"Remember," he said to the Consul, "he cannot understand and he has had a great deal to endure. I would think less of him if he had not hit me.

Sir, I accept your blow. Will you cry quits with me and be friends?"

"You accept my blow indeed, you coward! I have given you a very good clout on the head. Why don't you challenge me to a duel like a man?

Surely that is the custom everywhere outside England?"

"I will make you any reparation you like, but I will not fight you.

Strange as it may seem, I hope that some day you may become my friend."