“What?” cried the Prince, and looked at Mr. Carson with eyes wide with complete lack of comprehension. “What—does he want?”
“Leave that for the moment,” said Mr. Carson in Prokop’s ear. “Mr. Prokop means to say, your Excellence, that he was not prepared for your invitation. That doesn’t matter,” he went on, turning quickly to Prokop. “I’ve arranged for that. We shall dine today out on the lawn, so there is no question of evening clothes; you can go as you are. I’ve telegraphed for a tailor; no need for anxiety, my dear sir. Everything will be arranged by tomorrow. So.”
It was now Prokop’s turn to open his eyes wide. “What tailor? What does this mean?”
“It will be—a particular honour—for us,” the Prince concluded and gave Prokop his lifeless fingers.
“What does this mean?” raged Prokop when they were outside in the passage and seized Carson by the shoulder. “Tell me now, man, or—”
Mr. Carson neighed like a horse and slipped out of his grasp like a street urchin. “Or—what?” he laughed and flew off, bouncing like a ball. “If you can catch me I’ll tell you everything, honestly.”
“You clown,” thundered Prokop, furious, and set off after him. Mr. Carson, still neighing, flew down the stairs and slipped past the row of armoured knights into the park. There he squatted down like a hare in mockery of his pursuer. “Well,” he cried, “what will you do to me?”
“I’ll smash you to a jelly,” Prokop burst out, falling on him with his full weight. Carson slid away, squeaked with delight and leapt about the lawn like a hare. “Quick,” he sang out, “here I am,” and again he slipped out of Prokop’s hands and cried “I see you!” from behind the stump of a tree.
Prokop again set off after him silently with clenched fists, as serious and threatening as Ajax. He was already panting for breath when, looking round, he saw the dark Amazon watching him from the castle steps with half-closed eyes. He became exceedingly ashamed of himself, stopped, and had a sudden foolish fear that the girl would come across and feel his hocks.
Mr. Carson, suddenly quite serious again, strolled over to him with his hands in his pockets and said in a friendly manner: “Not enough training. You shouldn’t spend the whole day sitting. Exercise your heart. So. A‑a‑a‑a,” he sang out, glowing, “haholihoo! The daughter of the old man,” he added softly. “Princess Willy, that is Wilhelmina Adelaide Maud and so on. An interesting girl, twenty-eight years old, a great horsewoman. I must introduce you,” he said aloud and dragged the protesting Prokop up to the girl. “Princess,” he called when they were still some distance away, “let me introduce to you—to a certain extent against his will—our guest, Engineer Prokop. A terribly irate person. Wants to kill me.”
“Good morning,” said the Princess, and turned to Mr. Carson: “Do you know that one of Whirlwind’s hocks is inflamed?”
“My God!” said Mr. Carson, horrified. “Poor Princess!”
“Do you play tennis?”
Prokop was frowning darkly and did not even realize that the remark was addressed to him.
“He doesn’t,” Carson answered for him and dug him in the ribs. “You must play. The Princess lost to Lenglen by only one set, eh?”
“Because I was playing against the sun,” said the Princess, a little piqued. “What do you play?”
Again Prokop did not realize that he was being addressed.
“Mr. Prokop is a scientist,” said Carson warmly. “He’s discovered atomic explosions and that sort of thing. A marvellous mind. Compared with him we’re nothing but helps in the kitchen. Scraping potatoes. But he,” and Mr. Carson whistled with amazement, “he’s a pure magician. If you want him to he’ll prepare hydrogen from bismuth. So, madame.”
The half-closed grey eyes glanced casually at Prokop, who stood still, thoroughly embarrassed and furious with Carson.
“Very interesting,” said the Princess and at once looked elsewhere. “Ask him to teach me about these things some time. We meet again then at midday, eh?”
Prokop bowed just in time and Carson dragged him off into the park. “Race,” he said appreciatively. “That woman has breeding. Haughty, eh? Wait till you know her better.”
Prokop stopped. “Listen, Carson, so that you will get it clear. I don’t intend to get to know anybody better. I am going away today or tomorrow, you understand?”
Mr. Carson chewed a piece of grass. “A pity,” he said. “It’s very nice here. Well, it can’t be helped.”
“The long and short of it is, where is Thomas—?”
“Wait until you are leaving. How did you like the old man?”
“What interest have I in him?” growled Prokop.
“Well, yes, an antique. There for show. Unfortunately he has a paralytic stroke nearly every week. But Willy’s a marvellous girl. Then there’s Egon, a hobbledehoy, eighteen. Both orphans. Then the guests, some second cousin, Prince Suwalski, all sorts of officers, Rohlauf, Von Graun, you know, Jockey Club and Dr. Krafft, the tutor, and various others. You must come and see us this evening. Drink, none of the aristocracy, our engineers and people of that sort, see? Over there in my villa. It’ll be in your honour.”
“Carson,” said Prokop severely, “I want to speak seriously with you before I go.”
“There’s no hurry. Just rest yourself. Well, I must get back to my work. Do just what you like. No formalities. If you want to bathe, there’s a lake over there. We’ll talk seriously later. Make yourself comfortable. So.”
And he was gone.
XXIV
Prokop wandered about the park, irritable and yawning through lack of sleep. He wondered what they wanted with him and contemplated with dissatisfaction his huge, ungainly boots and worn-out trousers. Absorbed in these reflections he very nearly walked on to the tennis court, where the Princess was playing with two girls in white dresses. He hastily turned aside and set off towards what he imagined was the end of the park. But in that direction the park
