Affairs of State Part 17

"Very wrathy, to put it mildly," said Collins. "But I took it meekly; it was in a good cause."

"And we didn't think it impudent at all," said Sue. "Since we had caused all the trouble, it was only fair that we should bear a part of it.

Besides, it wasn't by any means so difficult as Mr. Collins thought it would be."

"You don't mean that Markeld actually asked you! I didn't believe he'd do that, despite Collins's prophecy. He seemed to have too much of high politeness about him."

"I was sure he would," put in Collins, triumphantly. "He couldn't afford to neglect such an obvious way of making certain, and he's much too clever to have overlooked it."

"You were quite right, Lord Vernon," said Susie, very quietly, though there was a dangerous sparkle in her eyes. "The Prince did not ask us--but a French creature did--a detective--"

"One of his emissaries," suggested Collins. "I know him--his name is Tellier."

"I have no reason to think him an emissary," retorted Susie, curtly, beginning to dislike the secretary. "I don't in the least believe the Prince would choose such a one. Dad pointed him out to us in the dining-room last night--a thing of mustachios and eyes--just the kind one sees at the vaudeville, but which I hadn't the least idea existed in real life.--Oh!" she cried, with a little start, "there he is now, almost near enough to hear!"

Collins swore softly between his teeth, for there, indeed, Monsieur Tellier was, leaning with elaborate negligence against the bal.u.s.trade, apparently intent upon the crowd below. His countenance was quite inscrutable--calm as a summer day--which might mean much or nothing, for he had an immense pride in keeping it always so. Vernon took him in with a quick glance.

"I recognise the type," he said. "Can't we go on, Miss Rushford? Collins might form a rear guard. And James is blind, deaf, and dumb toward everything that doesn't concern him," he added, as she glanced at the stalwart footman behind the chair. "I'm very anxious to hear the story.

But, of course, if it's asking too much--"

"It isn't," answered Susie, promptly, and fell in beside the chair, while Collins and her sister followed at a distance of a few paces.

"Now, I think, we can talk without fear of being overheard by Monsieur Tellier. But there is really very little to tell. He sent up his card just before dinner yesterday evening; we sent it back. Then, being persistent and not easily snubbed, he sent up a note which asked 'Are the Misses Rushford acquainted with the gentleman who came to their a.s.sistance this afternoon?' To which the Misses Rushford added a line, 'They are not,' and sent it back to him. It was too absurd. It reminded me of the agony column in the _Herald_."

"The agony column?"

"Yes--'Will the lady dressed in blue, who took a Broadway car yesterday,'--and so on."

"Oh," said Vernon, with a smile. "Yes--we have the same thing in England."

"And, after all," continued Susie, "our reply was the exact and literal truth--of a kind which, I should imagine, is well known to diplomats."

The occupant of the chair had quite made up his mind that Susie was the prettier.

"It is their favourite kind," he a.s.sured her; "nothing delights them more than to lie while telling the truth."

"Them? But aren't you a diplomat?"

"There are many who doubt it. Perhaps they will doubt it more than ever before we are out of this tangle. It's awfully good of you and your sister to take an interest in it."

"But of course we'd take an interest!"

"And keep a secret."

"Ah--well, perhaps that _is_ a little unusual."

"Especially after my rudeness," he added.

"Your rudeness?"

"In running away and hiding behind my paper. What did you think of me?"

"We didn't know what to think," admitted Susie, candidly; "though, of course, afterwards we were able to guess."

"And I am pardoned?"

"Oh, quite; you had to escape, you know. It's a perfectly delightful muddle, isn't it? Dad understood it at once."

"Did he?" The occupant of the chair moved a little uneasily.

"Yes--we talked it over, you know, after Mr. Collins left. But then dad is up on politics and we are not. Only it's a little rough on the Prince of Markeld, don't you think?"

"Yes, it _is_ rough on him, but--well, it would be rougher to turn him down--rougher on all concerned!"

"You'd have to turn him down? But there; I mustn't meddle with affairs of state!"

"Sentiment hasn't much show in the foreign office," said Vernon, with some bitterness; "not even the sentiment of friends.h.i.+p. We're trying to find the easiest way out."

Susie nodded, her eyes sparkling. This was a new and delicious experience, this weighing the fate of nations, as it were. She even skipped a little, unconscious of Lord Vernon's eyes upon her glowing face.

"Of course," she agreed, judicially, "I suppose one must always try to find the easiest way out. Only dad seemed to think--"

She hesitated.

"Go ahead," he encouraged her. "I don't doubt that your father was entirely right."

"Well, then, dad seemed to think that Prince Ferdinand is much the better of the two men."

"There is no question of that," a.s.sented Lord Vernon, gloomily. "But let me put a case, Miss Rushford. Suppose your best friend were set upon by thieves and just as you started to help him, another thief came up behind you and, putting a pistol to your head, commanded you to stand still. What would you do?"

"I'd stand still," laughed Sue.

"Yes; but your friend can't see the thief behind you, and when he sees you standing there, not offering to help him, he thinks you are a coward and a traitor. Perhaps he tells you so in the most emphatic language at his command."

"It would be a very difficult position," agreed Sue, still laughing at the picture presented by the words. "On second thought, I don't believe I'd stand still for long; I'd try to give my thief a knock-out blow and then go help my friend."

"But you would have to wait till your thief was off his guard. Well, that is pretty much the position that England is in, as I understand it.

Prince Ferdinand is our friend, but we've got to wait till the man with the pistol makes a false move. We're doing the best we can--and in the meantime, Prince Ferdinand's misguided friends are calling us hard names."

"But," inquired Susie, "who is the man with the pistol? He must be a pretty big fellow to be able to hold you prisoner, and yet I must confess that I'm like Prince Ferdinand--I can't perceive him, either."

Lord Vernon hesitated a moment.

"I'm afraid, Miss Rushford," he said, slowly, at last, "that I can't tell you, just yet. I'd like to, but if I did, I'd have all these diplomatic sharps down on me in short order. I thought maybe you could guess."

"Oh, don't apologise!" cried Susie. "I hadn't any right to ask.

Though," she added, regretfully, "I'm not at all good at guessing."

Lord Vernon smiled as he looked at her.