“Good man. Grant!” Stoneham exclaimed. “Glad to see you back again. One hears of you hobnobbing with Kings and Prime Ministers and the great people of the earth. Quite time you showed a little interest in your own country.”
“Well, I’m here on the old job,” Grant declared sinking into the easy-chair to which his friend had pointed6 and accepting a cigarette.
“The deuce you are!” the other observed, with some surprise. “I thought since you had become a millionaire you’d turned slacker. I haven’t heard anything of you for a year or so.”
“I’ve been doing much more difficult and unpleasant work than ever before in my life,” Grant confided7. “I’ve been doing Secret Service work which is only half official. That is to say, that if I get into trouble I’m not acknowledged and if I do any good work the Department gets the credit. That doesn’t matter, though. The point is that I’ve made a scoop8 on my own. There’s trouble brewing9.”
“What sort of trouble?” Stoneham demanded. “Do you mean anything in connection with the invitation from Nice?”
“Well, I’ll tell you this for one thing. That invitation would never have been sent but for me.”
“Say, you’re not pulling my leg, are you?”
“I was never more in earnest in my life. It was touch and go with Lord Yeovil’s proposition. There were three votes against it. Four would have barred it. The fourth man had been bought for fifty thousand pounds. I imitated the methods of the adventurous10 novelists and abducted11 him. I kept him out at sea all night and the voting took place without him. If he’d got there in time, Lord Yeovil’s motion would have been defeated, America would never have been invited to join the Pact12 and the trouble which is even now brewing against her would have developed very rapidly.”
“Serious business this, Grant,” Stoneham remarked.
“The most serious part of it is that it’s the truth,” Grant rejoined drily. “However, the first stage in the battle has been won. The invitation has been despatched to Washington. Now I tell you where the second stage of the battle begins and where America will need the aid of every one of her loyal citizens. There will be, without the slightest doubt, an immense and cunningly engineered propaganda to prevent America’s accepting that invitation. I want to fight that propaganda, Daniel. I want you to help me.”
The editor sat back in his chair and his thoughtful grey eyes studied Grant’s face. He was a short man, clean-shaven, with smooth black hair streaked13 with grey. Whenever any one wished to annoy him they called him the Napoleon of journalism14. Still the likeness15 was there.
“Whose were the three votes against the invitation being sent to America?” he enquired16.
“Germany, Japan, and Russia.”
“And the one which would have been given but for your intervention17?”
“Scandinavia,” Grant replied. “That of course has no political significance. It was simply that the man himself was bought.”
“And what do you suppose is the reason for Germany and Japan voting against the United States being allowed to join the Pact?” Stoneham asked.
“I believe it is their intention to attack us,” Grant pronounced. “The Pact only forbids aggressions between the countries belonging. She has no jurisdiction18 even over her own members who find cause to quarrel with an outside country. We’ve been a little too high and mighty19, Stoneham. If we’d decided20 to adopt the attitude of remaining outside the affairs of the world, we should never have subscribed21 to the Limitation of Armaments. To-day, for all our great wealth, our immense man power, and our supreme22 civilisation23, the combined armaments of Japan and Germany are precisely24 double our own.”
“Of course,” Stoneham said, “if any other man in the world were to come to me and talk like this, I should say that he was a lunatic.”
“I am no lunatic, Dan,” Grant declared. “I know very well what I am talking about.”
“Have you any proofs?”
“I sent them to Washington an hour after I landed. You don’t need them, Dan. You believe me, I know.”
“Yes, I believe you.”
“And you’ll help? You’ll put that in the forefront of your whole policy, the acceptance by the United States of this invitation from the Pact? You’ll press it home to the people, Dan? Remember, it’s our last chance. We’ve refused twice.”
Stoneham was curiously25 silent. He was looking for a moment out of the uncurtained window, away over the skyscrapers26 and chimney pots to where little flashes of the blue Hudson, with its tangle27 and burden of sea and river-going craft were visible, There was something smouldering in his eyes.
“Grant,” he said at last, “you’ve brought me news. I have some to give you. In a way, although I never realised it before, my news bears upon yours.”
“Get along with it,” Grant begged.
“A commanding interest in this paper—three quarters of the shares in fact—was signed away last night. The control of the paper has gone out of our hands altogether.”
“Who is the buyer?” Grant demanded eagerly.
“Felix Pottinger,” was the quiet reply.
“And who’s behind him?”
“They tried to keep that secret. But I found out by an accident. The real buyer is Cornelius Blunn of Berhn.”
Grant was thunderstruck.
“Fifteen days ago,” he confided after a brief silence, “I was a guest at a dinner party given by that man. A few days before that we were scrapping28 on my yacht. He tried to start a mutiny. Offered ten thousand pounds to some of my youngsters to get the yacht back in time for his Scandinavian friend to vote at the Nice Conference. Blunn and I have had the gloves oflf all the time. He sent some one down from Berlin to spy on me at Monte Carlo. My God! This comes of our hospitality to foreigners. This is where we make the laughing stock of ourselves for all the world. Cornelius Blunn! The German multimillionaire! The man who hates America, her industries and her politics, is calmly allowed to come here and buy the only great American newspaper which represents no other interests save those of America.”
“There is a certain amount of irony29 in the situation,” Stone-ham admitted. “You know what happened, I dare say. The Chief, after fifteen years of wisdom, went on to Wall Street a few months ago. He lost between five and ten millions and had a stroke. I suppose this will just see him through.”
“I thought the old man wouldn’t have done it if he’d been himself,” Grant muttered. “I suppose I’d better go and see Dawson.”
“You’ll have a hard nut to crack. I heard Dawson speak only last night at a dinner. His references to the invitation were very perfunctory indeed. He’s one of the men who believe in America for the Americans, You needn’t look so depressed30, though. What about me? I shall be out of a job within a week.”
“Come and have some lunch?” Grant invited.
Stoneham shook his head.
“I guess not. We’re all in a state of nerves here. Waiting to hear what’s going to happen. The sale seems to have been a lightning-like affair. We’re expecting a visit from Potinnger in a minute. Shouldn’t be surprised if he takes us over within twenty-four hours.”
“Couldn’t you get one article in?” Grant suggested.
“I’ll try,” Stoneham assented31. “Where are you?”
“The Great Central. They’re getting my flat ready at Sherrey’s if I stay on. Things seem a trifle uncertain at present.”
“I’ll ring you up,” Stoneham promised.
Grant lunched at his club, where he met many of his friends and acquaintances to whom he was simply a rather restless, much to be envied millionaire. Whenever he could, he brought the subject of conversation round to the Nice invitation. To a certain extent he was dismayed by the prevalent criticisms.
“Guess there’s no one in the world so thick-skinned as a Britisher,” one man declared. “You can’t keep him in his place unless you tie him there. What does America want, sending her best men away from home and spending her time and money on these wearisome conferences? They don’t amount to anything, anyway.”
“England’s got a scare about something or other and wants to hold her big relation’s hand,” another usually well-informed man remarked. “For all their strength, there was never a less self-reliant nation.”
“It’s just like English statesmanship to make it difficult for them down in Washington,” a third occupant of the room pointed out. “It simply puts our Government in an embarrassing situation. Nobody wants to seem ungracious, and it won’t be easy to say no. At the same time, I can’t see that a shadow of good can come of acceptance. They’re always squabbling at the Pact meetings, like they are at the Limitation of Armaments. The latest canard32 now is that Japan has secretly built some flying ships which could destroy any fleet afloat.”
Grant remained a listener only. He left the club about the middle of the afternoon, and, after a few minutes’ anxious deliberation, was driven to the Hotel des Ambassadeurs.
“Is the Princess von Diss staying here?” he asked the clerk at the desk.
“Not at present, sir,” the young man replied, with a curious glance at Grant.
“I saw by the newspapers that she was in Newport,” the latter persisted, “and was coming here.”
“We have been asked for no reservation at present,” he was assured.
Grant scribbled33 the name of his hotel and the number of his suite34 on the back of a card and passed it across.
“If the Princess should arrive,” he begged, “will you let her have this?”
“With pleasure, sir.”
Grant went back to his sitting room and considered the situation. If he approached Dawson, the editor and part-proprietor of the next most important paper to the New York, he was absolutely sure of an unsympathetic hearing. Dawson, already prejudiced, would believe nothing without proofs, and such proofs as Grant possessed35 were, by this time, in the hands of his official sponsor in Washington. He changed early, dined at another of his clubs and wandered into two or three more of which he was a member. He found nowhere any particular interest in the subject which was to him such a vital one. Everybody was hugely concerned with his own affairs, the price of American stocks, the latest singer at the Opera, the winning of the amateur golf championship of the world by an American, the success of the American tennis players on the Riviera. A few people seemed to regard Lord Yeovil’s proposition as a kindly36 act, but altogether unnecessary, America was splendid in her isolation37, strong and secure as the Rock of Gibraltar. No wonder there was a desire on the part of the other nations to fasten like limpets upon her. One didn’t wish to hurt England’s feelings, but it would have been better policy to have enquired first whether such an invitation would be acceptable.
“And how the mischief,” Grant was driven at last to observe, “could America have replied to that? We haven’t an official, even the President, with sufficient authority. The matter now is put on a definite basis. The Senate must decide.”
“Sure,” the young man to whom he had been speaking agreed listlessly. “Look here. Grant,” he went on with a sudden accession of interest, “you must have seen the Hoyt brothers play over at Monte Carlo. Is it true what they say,—that the elder’s getting stale? I’ve a thousand dollars on their match against the Frenchmen.”
“I saw very little tournament tennis,” Grant answered. “The Hoyts are great favourites for the match, anyhow.”
He found his way back to his rooms comparatively early. There was no telephone message from the “Ambassadeurs,”—only a scribbled note from Stoneham.
Dear Grant, it said,
Thought you’d like to know Pottinger took us over at six o’clock, asked to see the leading article for to-morrow’s paper and tore it into small pieces. He’s in possession. We’re out, lock, stock, and barrel. You’d better get to work.
Dan.
Grant tore the note thoughtfully across and put through a long distance call to Washington. Then he threw himself wearily into an easy-chair. The roar of the city, abating38 but slightly as night advanced, still mercilessly insistent39, soothed40 him. He closed his eyes, mindful of sleepless41 nights. The tinkle42 of the telephone bell awoke him. In a few moments he was through to Washington.
“Brendon, Secretary, speaking,” a voice announced. “Is that Mr. Slattery?”
“Grant Slattery speaking,” was the prompt rejoinder.
“Can you come to Washington to-morrow? The Chief would like to see you.”
“I’ll catch the ten o’clock train,” Grant promised.
He went to bed better satisfied. The struggle had commenced.
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1
influential
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| adj.有影响的，有权势的 | |
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metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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espoused
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| v.（决定）支持，拥护（目标、主张等）( espouse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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languish
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| vi.变得衰弱无力，失去活力，（植物等）凋萎 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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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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brewing
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| n. 酿造, 一次酿造的量 动词brew的现在分词形式 | |
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adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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abducted
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| 劫持，诱拐( abduct的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（肢体等）外展 | |
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pact
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| n.合同，条约，公约，协定 | |
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13
streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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journalism
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| n.新闻工作，报业 | |
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likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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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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intervention
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| n.介入，干涉，干预 | |
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jurisdiction
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| n.司法权，审判权，管辖权，控制权 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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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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subscribed
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| v.捐助( subscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；签署，题词；订阅；同意 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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skyscrapers
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| n.摩天大楼 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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scrapping
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| 刮，切除坯体余泥 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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canard
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| n.虚报；谣言；v.流传 | |
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33
scribbled
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| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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isolation
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| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
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abating
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| 减少( abate的现在分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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40
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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41
sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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tinkle
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| vi.叮当作响；n.叮当声 | |
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