“Glad to meet you, Mr. Slattery.”
“Tarleton, of the Moon,” his neighbour announced. “Glad to welcome you back to New York, Mr. Slattery.”
“Booker, of the Chronicle,” the third young man echoed. “Hope we’re not too early for you.”
“I’m Phoebe Smiles,” the young lady told him, with the air of one who imparts information which should be entirely1 unnecessary. “You know about me, I dare say.”
Grant shook hands with all of them.
“Look here,” he said, “I’m very glad to see you and to be welcomed back home, but what’s it all about? I’m not a novelist, or a politician, or an English nobleman. You can’t get head lines out of me.”
“Not so sure that we mightn’t, sir,” Tarleton replied cheerfully, “We thought, as we all arrived in a bunch, we’d better wait and see whether you had any preference as to which section of the Press you talked to. If you haven’t you can give it to us all together. We can use the stuff a bit differently.”
“But I’m no use to you fellows,” Grant protested. “I’d just as soon talk to you all together as singly. In fact, I’d rather. It saves time. But what do you want me to talk about?”
“First of all your voyage home,” Tarleton suggested. “Some hurricane you struck, eh?”
“We ran into a terrible storm about two days out of Gibraltar,” Grant told them. “The Grey Lady behaved magnificently. Captain Martin and every one of my officers really deserve a word of praise. We didn’t even lose a boat, and, as you know, some of the big liners got badly knocked about.”
“That’s interesting,” Tarleton admitted, making a few notes. “There’s just one other little thing about the voyage, Mr. Slattery.”
“Go ahead,” Grant invited.
The three men looked at one another. Tarleton appeared to be almost embarrassed,—an unusual situation for a newspaper man. Grant, who had pushed a box of cigars across the table, lit a cigarette and threw himself into an easy-chair.
“There have been some rumours2 going around,” Tarleton said at last, “about a romantic stowaway3.”
“Really!” Grant remarked. “I haven’t heard them. What sort of a stowaway?”
“A lady,” Booker interposed, taking up his share of the burden. “A lady who has been missing for some time from Monte Carlo.”
“Is that so!” Grant exclaimed. “What was her name?”
“The Princess von Diss.”
Grant stared at him for a moment.
“Do you mean to suggest that the Princess von Diss was a passenger on board my yacht?” he demanded.
“That’s the story that’s been going round,” Tarleton acknowledged.
“The idea seems to be that she smuggled4 herself on board without your knowledge,” Havers intervened, “and was only discovered on the third day out.”
“A beautiful romance,” Miss Phoebe Smiles murmured.
“Of course,” Tarleton suggested diffidently, “this might very reasonably seem to be a subject upon which you might not care to talk. Say the word, and we’ll quit. Put it to us that on the subject of the missing Princess von Diss Mr. Slattery had nothing to say, and down it goes in our books and we’ll pass on to the next.”
Grant smiled.
“I think you can go a little further than that,” he said. “You can assure the millions in New York, who are interested in this sort of thing, that I dined with the Princess von Diss on the night before I left Monte Carlo, at a dinner party given by Mr. Cornelius Blunn, the multi-millionaire,—a dinner which included her husband, the Prince von Diss, the King of Gothland, the English Prime Minister, and various other distinguished5 people. Since that evening I have not seen or heard of the Princess.”
The pencils were, for a moment, busy.
“One may take it, then,” Tarleton ventured, “that these stories of a romantic stowaway on board your yacht are untrue.”
“Entirely,” Grant assured them. “There was a large black cat discovered when we were three days out. She was the only stowaway I know about.”
“Good heading, that,” Booker observed.
“ROMANTIC STOWAWAY ON MR. GRANT SLATTERY’S YACHT DISCOVERED. ANSWERS TO THE NAME OF LIZZIE.”
“Well, that disposes of the less important object of our visit,” Havers declared. “Can you say anything to us, Mr. Slattery, about the Nice Conference of the Pact6 of Nations, and the invitation which was sent from there to this country?”
“I was at Monte Carlo at the time,” Grant replied, “and I had the privilege of meeting Lord Yeovil often. I look upon the invitation as one of the greatest events of this decade. Lord Yeovil ran a great risk in bringing it forward. There was, as you may have heard, opposition7.”
Pencils were poised8 and an eager air of expectancy9 made itself felt.
“Can you,” Tarleton asked, “tell us which countries opposed the invitation?”
“The negative votes are recorded by black balls,” Grant explained. “I can only tell you that three were given. No one could say who put them in.”
“Did you hear any rumours as to which countries probably did oppose the motion?” Jim Havers enquired10.
“Nice and Monte Carlo were full of gossip,” Grant replied. “But you must remember that very few people knew even what the system of voting was, much less that there were three black balls actually recorded. You gentlemen have made your scoop11 in being the first to publish that information. I had meant to have it published here. One of my objects in revisiting America is to impress upon my fellow countrymen the absolute necessity of accepting the invitation from the Pact.”
“I see,” Havers murmured. “You probably have a little more information up your sleeve, Mr. Slattery.”
“I have a few more things to say,” Grant confessed. “But I think I’ve given you fellows something to be going on with. I noticed that one of our well-known politicians, in rather a flamboyant12 speech last night, declared that America has no enemies. It is a foolish statement to make. Those three black balls proved the contrary.”
“America has done very well so far by keeping out of the Pact,” Booker remarked.
“It has been in accordance with her principles to remain aloof13 from European affairs,” Tarleton put in.
“She occupies a mighty14 powerful position as a looker-on,” Havers declared.
“All that belongs to the past,” Grant explained earnestly. “America’s policy in keeping out of all these compacts except the Limitation of Armaments may have been a sound one. Personally I am inclined to contest it. However, it is of the future we have to think. Times and conditions have changed. You must remember too that the constitution of the Pact is peculiar15. Subscription16 to its principles and inclusion in its membership makes war between any of the nations belonging impossible. On the other hand any member or members of the Pact may make war against any nation outside the Pact without breaking their covenant17. In fact, it would be against its established principles for any nation belonging to the Pact to intervene.”
“You’re not seriously suggesting, Mr. Slattery,” Booker enquired, after a brief silence, “that any nation or combination of nations would actually dream of attacking the United States?”
“I have not said so, but I see nothing absurd in the idea,” Grant assured them. “We are a mighty country in wealth, man power and brains, but we have faithfully obeyed the statutes18 of the Limitation of Armaments and we are to-day no stronger than many a poorer country, either on land or on sea. A combination of any two powers you can name would have the advantage of us.”
“It would take a great deal to start a war scare in this country,” Havers remarked with a smile.
“There were a great many people who didn’t believe war was possible in nineteen-fourteen,” Grant pointed19 out. “It came, nevertheless. The trouble is that the United States of America are governed too much by men who have never left their own country. To them America is omnipotent20. To us, who have travelled and seen other things, she is not.”
“We’ve got something more than we expected from this visit,” Jim Havers admitted frankly21. “I won’t promise you that my paper, for one, is going to record your views sympathetically, Mr. Slattery. But whether they put them up like a puppet horse, to knock them down again, or whether they espouse22 them for their own, there’s going to be some big type used.”
“I’m quite content,” Grant replied. “I’m here to be laughed at, if you will. But I’m here to tell you what I believe to be the truth, and I’m going on to Washington with a few more little facts to lay before some friends of mine up there. I want to see America accept that invitation, naturally, cordially, and freely. Then I am going to throw my hat into the air. And I shall have cause to do it too.”
“I’d like a few more of your reasons for adopting this attitude,” Havers suggested.
“You won’t have them to-day,” Grant told them bluntly. “I have an appointment with an important person in the newspaper line later in the day, and I am going to Washington on Thursday. When I get back we’ll see how things go. I have some more facts up my sleeve, but I’ve got to build up my case. Good morning, gentlemen. Take another cigar, won’t you, Mr. Havers? Glad to see any of you when I get back from Washington.”
They filed out with a handshake and a word of thanks. Miss
Phoebe Smiles lingered behind. She waited until the door was closed. She was very neatly23 and smartly dressed. She had an appealing air and an exceedingly engaging smile. She smiled now at Grant.
“Mr. Slattery,” she begged, “you might tell me the truth about that romantic stowaway.”
“My dear young lady,” he replied, “I have already told you, you and the others, that the story was a fabrication.”
“That’s all very well for the others,” she pleaded, “you see they’re good chaps and sportsmen and they couldn’t press the point, with a lady in it. But the story’s bound to come out, Mr. Slattery, and I should know just how to handle it. You were once engaged to marry the Princess von Diss, weren’t you?”
“Yes, and she jilted me,” Grant acknowledged. “What is the object of reminding me of that little episode, Miss Smiles?”
“Now you’re angry,” she cried regretfully. “I’m so sorry. Only, you see, Mr. Slattery, journalism24 is so much more difficult for a woman than a man and it would be such a wonderful thing for me if you felt inclined to tell the truth about that stowaway.”
He opened the door.
“Miss Smiles,” he said, “I can only add this to what I have already told your fellow visitors,—she took milk three times a day and scraps25 when she could get them. But here is your scoop as you insist upon it. She had green eyes, green passionate26 eyes, and her name was not Lizzie at all, it was Henrietta. Come back when the others come, won’t you. Miss Smiles.”
The young lady smiled and pouted27 a little.
“You look so nice and yet you’re so hard,” she complained, lingering on the threshold.
“You are mistaken. I am really very susceptible,” Grant assured her. “That is why I am going to lock my door as soon as you are out of sight.”
She heard the key turn in the lock as she made her way towards the passage from which the lift descended28. Whilst she waited she looked at herself in the glass and gave a little sigh. She was not used to rebuffs.
“It must be this hat,” she decided29, giving it a little push on one side. “I was never sure about it. Down, please.”
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收听单词发音
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1
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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rumours
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| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
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stowaway
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| n.（藏于轮船，飞机中的）偷乘者 | |
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smuggled
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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pact
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| n.合同，条约，公约，协定 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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expectancy
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| n.期望，预期，（根据概率统计求得）预期数额 | |
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enquired
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| 打听( enquire的过去式和过去分词 )； 询问； 问问题； 查问 | |
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scoop
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| n.铲子，舀取，独家新闻；v.汲取，舀取，抢先登出 | |
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flamboyant
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| adj.火焰般的，华丽的，炫耀的 | |
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aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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subscription
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| n.预订，预订费，亲笔签名，调配法，下标（处方） | |
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covenant
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| n.盟约，契约；v.订盟约 | |
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statutes
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| 成文法( statute的名词复数 )； 法令； 法规； 章程 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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omnipotent
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| adj.全能的，万能的 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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espouse
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| v.支持，赞成，嫁娶 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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journalism
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| n.新闻工作，报业 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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pouted
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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descended
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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