"Oh no, nothing of that sort. Not at all. The statement with which I'm
concerned is that her father has bought an island and some kind of
title for her from that unfortunate young King of Megalia."

"So long as he paid for it," said Gorman, "I don't see that it's
anybody else's business."

"You don't understand," said Sir Bartholomew. "I haven't made myself
clear. The fact is----" He sank his voice to an awed whisper. "The
young lady is understood to claim sovereign rights over the Island of
Salissa. She calls herself--it's almost incredible, but she calls
herself a queen."

"Well," said Gorman, "why shouldn't she?"

"But, my dear sir! To set up a new independent kingdom! In the
existing state of Balkan affairs, when the Great Powers----But of
course it can be nothing but a girlish joke, a piece of light-hearted
playfulness. She can't mean----"

"Then why worry?" said Gorman. "Why should you and that attache of the
Embassy of a Friendly Power, the fellow you've been talking about--why
should you and he start fussing?"

"My dear sir! my dear sir! Nothing, I assure you, is further from our
wishes than fuss of any kind. But unfortunately, the Emperor--the
Emperor--I respect and admire him, of course. We all do. But if the
Emperor has a fault it is that he's slightly deficient in humour. He
does not easily see a joke. He's a little--well----"

"Elephantine?" said Gorman.

Sir Bartholomew looked round hurriedly. The Division bell had just
rung. The smoking-room was almost empty. This was fortunate. It would
have been very awkward for a man in Sir Bartholomew's position to be
caught in the act of hearing an Emperor called elephantine.

"The Emperor," said Sir Bartholomew, "has approached the United States
Ambassador on the subject, indirectly, I need scarcely say. He
requests, indeed insists that Salissa shall at once be restored to the
Crown of Megalia. Now our idea is--and I think I know the views of the
Foreign Office on the subject--our idea is that this little matter
ought to be settled unofficially. A word to Mr. Donovan from a friend.
A hint about the present critical condition of European politics. He
might----"

"I don't suppose," said Gorman, "that Donovan cares a damn about
European politics."

Sir Bartholomew's eyebrows went up in shocked surprise.

"It is of the first importance," he said, "of absolutely vital
importance that at the present moment, standing as we do, as all
Europe stands to-da