The Grand Duke admitted that he was at sea, diplomatically. He was a fifth wheel, so to speak, now that the revolution was over. Not so much as the tip of his finger had he been able to get into the coveted pie. There was nothing for him to do but to turn round with his five thousand Cossacks and march disconsolately across the steppes to an Imperial railroad, where he could embark for home. However, he would visit the Castle in a very informal way, extend his congratulations, offer his services--which he knew would be declined with thanks--and profess his unbounded joy in the discovery that Graustark happily was so able to take care of herself. Incidentally, he would mention the bond issue; also, he would find the opportunity to suggest to the ministry that his government still was willing to make large grants and stupendous promises if any sort of an arrangement could be made by which the system might be operated in conjunction with branch lines of the Imperial roads.
And so it was that at noon he rode in pomp and splendour through the city gates, attended by his staff and a rather overpowering body-guard. His excuse for the early call was delicately worded. He said in his reply to the message from the Count that it would give him great pleasure to remain for some time at the Castle, were it not for the fact that he had left his own province in a serious state of unrest; it was imperative that he should return in advance of the ever-possible and always popular uprising. Therefore he would pay his respects to his serene Highness, renew his protestations of friendship, extend his felicitations, and beg leave to depart for his own land without delay.
As he rode from Regengetz Circus into Castle Avenue, a small knot of American tourists crowded to the curb and bent eager, attentive ears to the words of a stubby little person whom we should recognise by his accent; but, for fear that there may be some who have forgotten him in the rush of events, we will point to his cap and read aloud: "Cook's Interpreter."
Mr. Hobbs was saying: "The gentleman on the gray horse, ladies and gentlemen, is his Highness, the Grand Duke Paulus. He has come to pay his respects to his Serene Highness. Now, if you will kindly step this way, I will show you the spot where the bomb was thrown. 'Aving been an eye-witness to the shocking occurrence, I respectfully submit that I," etc. With a pride and dignity that surpassed all moderate sense of appreciation, he delivered newly made history unto his charges, modestly winding up his discourse with the casual remark that the Prince had but recently appointed him twelfth assistant steward at the Castle, and that he expected to assume the duties of this honorary position just as soon as Cook & Sons could find a capable man to send up in his place.