In Which the Sphinx Breaks the Silence

"Ah, Benton," he said, "so you came! Thank you."

The American bowed. He wished to observe every proper amenity of Court
etiquette. He was still chagrined by the memory of his rudeness to Von
Ritz, yet he was determined that if Karyl had sent for him as the Count
Pagratide, he must receive him on equal terms and without ceremony.

"Certainly," he replied. Then with a short laugh he added: "I have never
before been received by a crowned head. If my etiquette proves faulty,
you must score it against my ignorance--not my intention."

"I sent for you," said Karyl slowly, as the eyes of the two men met in
full directness, "and you were good enough to come. I am a crowned
head--yes--that is my damned ill-fortune. Let us, for God's sake, in so
far as we may, forget that! Benton, back there--" his voice suddenly
rose and took on a passionate tremor as he lifted one gauntleted hand in
a sweep toward the west--"back there in your country, where you were a
grandee of finance and I an impecunious foreigner, there was no ceremony
between us. If we can forget this livery"--Karyl savagely struck his
breast--"if you will try to forget that you are looking at a toy King,
fancifully trimmed from head to heel in braid and medals--then perhaps
we can talk!"

"Your Majesty--" demurred Von Ritz in a tone of deep protest.

The King swept his arm back as one who brushes an unimportant intruder
into the background.