Revel?”

“Yes,” said Anthony. “Virginia Revel.”

“My dear fellow,” cried Lord Caterham, “I mean⁠—sir, I congratulate you, I do indeed. A delightful creature.”

“Thank you, Lord Caterham,” said Anthony. “She’s all you say and more.”

But Mr. Isaacstein was regarding him curiously.

“You’ll excuse my asking your Highness, but when did this marriage take place?”

Anthony smiled back at him.

“As a matter of fact,” he said, “I married her this morning.”

XXX

Anthony Signs on for a New Job

“If you will go on, gentlemen, I will follow you in a minute,” said Anthony.

He waited whilst the others filed out, and then turned to where Superintendent Battle was standing apparently absorbed in examining the panelling.

“Well, Battle? Want to ask me something, don’t you?”

“Well, I do, sir, though I don’t know how you knew I did. But I always marked you out as being specially quick in the uptake. I take it that the lady who is dead was the late Queen Varaga?”

“Quite right, Battle. It’ll be hushed up, I hope. You can understand what I feel about family skeletons.”

“Trust Mr. Lomax for that, sir. No one will ever know. That is, a lot of people will know, but it won’t get about.”

“Was that what you wanted to ask me about?”

“No, sir⁠—that was only in passing. I was curious to know just what made you drop your own name⁠—if I’m not taking too much of a liberty?”

“Not a bit. I’ll tell you. I killed myself from the purest motives, Battle. My mother was English, I’d been educated in England, and I was far more interested in England than in Herzoslovakia. And I felt an absolute fool knocking about the world with a comic opera title tacked on to me. You see, when I was very young, I had democratic ideas. Believed in the purity of ideals, and the equality of all men. I especially disbelieved in kings and princes.”

“And since then?” asked Battle shrewdly.

“Oh, since then, I’ve travelled and seen the world. There’s damned little equality going about. Mind you, I still believe in democracy. But you’ve got to force it on people with a strong hand⁠—ram it down their throats. Men don’t want to be brothers⁠—they may some day, but they don’t now. My final belief in the Brotherhood of Man died the day I arrived in London last week, when I observed the people standing in a Tube train resolutely refuse to move up and make room for those who entered. You won’t turn people into angels by appealing to their better natures just yet awhile⁠—but by judicious force you can coerce them into behaving more or less decently to one another to go on with. I still believe in the Brotherhood of Man, but it’s not coming yet awhile. Say another ten thousand years or so. It’s no good being impatient. Evolution is a slow process.”

“I’m very interested in these views of yours, sir,” said Battle with a twinkle. “And if you’ll allow me to say so, I’m sure you’ll make a very fine king out there.”

“Thank you, Battle,” said Anthony with a sigh.

“You don’t seem very happy about it, sir?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I dare say it will be rather fun. But it’s tying oneself down to regular work. I’ve always avoided that before.”

“But you consider it your duty, I suppose, sir?”

“Good Lord, no! What an idea. It’s a woman⁠—it’s always a woman, Battle. I’d do more than be a king for her sake.”

“Quite so, sir.”

“I’ve arranged it so that the Baron and Isaacstein can’t kick. The one wants a king and the other wants oil. They’ll both get what they want, and I’ve got⁠—Oh, Lord, Battle, have you ever been in love?”

“I am much attached to Mrs. Battle, sir.”

“Much attached to Mrs.⁠—Oh, you don’t know what I’m talking about! It’s entirely different!”

“Excuse me, sir, that man of yours is waiting outside the window.”

“Boris? So he is. He’s a wonderful fellow. It’s a mercy that pistol went off in the struggle and killed the lady. Otherwise Boris would have wrung her neck as sure as Fate, and then you would have wanted to hang him. His attachment to the Obolovitch dynasty is remarkable. The queer thing was that as soon as Michael was dead he attached himself to me⁠—and yet he couldn’t possibly have known who I really was.”

“Instinct,” said Battle. “Like a dog.”

“Very awkward instinct I thought it at the time. I was afraid it might give the show away to you. I suppose I’d better see what he wants.”

He went out through the window. Superintendent Battle, left alone, looked after him for a minute, then apparently addressed the panelling.

“He’ll do,” said Superintendent Battle.

Outside, Boris explained himself.

“Master,” said he, and led the way along the terrace.

Anthony followed him, wondering what was forward.

Presently Boris stopped and pointed with his forefinger. It was moonlight, and in front of them was a stone seat on which sat two figures.

“He is a dog,” said Anthony to himself. “And what’s more, a pointer!”

He strode forward. Boris melted into the shadows.

The two figures rose to meet him. One of them was Virginia⁠—the other⁠—

“Hullo, Joe,” said a well remembered voice. “This is a great girl of yours.”

“Jimmy McGrath, by all that’s wonderful,” cried Anthony. “How in the name of fortune did you get here?”

“That trip of mine into the interior went phut. Then some dagos came monkeying round. Wanted to buy that manuscript off me. Next thing I as near as nothing got a knife in the back one night. That made me think that I’d handed you out a bigger job than I knew. I thought you might need help, and I came along after you by the very next boat.”

“Wasn’t it splendid of him?” said Virginia. She squeezed Jimmy’s arm. “Why didn’t you ever tell me how frightfully nice he was? You are, Jimmy, you’re a perfect dear.”

“You two seem to be getting along all right,” said Anthony.

“Sure thing,” said Jimmy. “I was snooping round for news of you, when I connected

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