"You mean Von Ritz?" The question came from Italy's delegate.
Jusseret bowed his head. "Von Ritz," he affirmed.
Don Alphonso Rodriguez laughed with a note of incredulity. "And how do
you propose," he demanded, "to persuade this loyal adviser of Karyl to
accept a deputyship at the hands of Karyl's enemies?"
Again Jusseret smiled. "It will be Von Ritz or a foreigner," he
explained. "We must convince him that his beloved Kingdom can henceforth
be only a province in any event--that it may prosper under his guidance
or suffer under a more oppressive hand. That done, his patriotism will
prove our ally. We have only to convince him that no member of Karyl's
house can reign and live--and that it must be himself or an alien."
"It would have been as easy," demurred the Portuguese delegate, "to have
persuaded Von Ritz that Karyl himself should abdicate."
Jusseret felt the hostility of the other members. In spite of the
realization, or perhaps because of it, he glanced from face to face with
unruffled urbanity.
"Messieurs," he suggested, "you overlook the hypotheses--and in
reaching conclusions hypotheses are serviceable. You, gentlemen," he
continued blandly, "regarded the initial steps as impracticable. What I
volunteered to do, I have so far done. We have one object. The insatiate
ambition of that nation, which we need not name, must not gain
additional Mediterranean foothold. Spain or Portugal, it is one to us,
may decide the matter of suzerainty between themselves."
"How do you mean to persuade Von Ritz?" insisted Don Alphonso.
"In the young Queen, who is the sole eligible candidate for the Throne,
we have at heart an unwilling heir. Von Ritz distrusts France. Let the
suggestion come from Portugal, a friend who can speak persuasively--and
convincingly. Let him see the inevitable result unless he consents. Let
all which we have done be denounced. Lead him to believe that he holds
as steward"--Jusseret raised his hands as he concluded--"for Karyl's
heir, if there should be one. These things are mere details."
* * * * * Benton worked his way slowly to San Francisco through the Far East. It
is not difficult to avoid newspapers between Ismaïlia and Manila, and
with the dogged determination to let the day set by Cara answer all
questions of his future, he had neither sought nor received tidings from
Galavia.
He had not permitted himself great indulgence in hope. The past months
had brought too many disappointments, and he knew that they had all been
but episodes leading up to the climax which must come with the day when
he inquired for a letter at "Idle Times."
He dreaded a return to "Idle Times" before the day set for his inquiry.
Bristow's place stood for too much of memory, and the inevitable
questions of his friend loomed before him, as the trifle which a man who
has stood much more than trifles cannot bring himself to face. Yet there
was no danger of his being late. That time was the one fixed point on
the calendar of his future. One day before his three months had come to
an end, he arrived, but he did not go to Van Bristow's house. He did
not announce his coming. He went by the less frequented streets of the
near-by village to its inadequate hotel, where he found only a drummer
for a New York shoe house and a gentleman traveling "out of Chicago"
with samples of ready-made clothing.