The landing was a perfectly carried out farce. Everybody appeared to be in high spirits and even Prince von Diss managed to infuse a little cordiality into his thanks for the delightful hospitality he had experienced. Grant was very apologetic about the slight trouble with his engines. Everybody assured him, however, that the few extra hours at sea had been a pleasure and studiously avoided any mention of the mingled farce and drama which they had evoked. On the subject of his dinner, which, after two postponements, had been fixed for the following night, Mr. Cornelius Blunn was eloquent.
“If a single one of you denies me,” he declared, “I shall be hurt. It is going to give me the greatest possible pleasure to feel myself, for once, a host, to endeavour to repay a little the sumptuous hospitality I have received. We meet at the Hotel de Paris at eight o’clock. I have, by the bye, asked His Majesty, the King of Gothland, to meet you. His Majesty is most agreeable and his presence will in no way interfere with what I hope is going to be a cheery evening.”
Susan and Grant exchanged amused glances more than once, during this somewhat drawn out business of leave-taking. Once she drew near enough to him to whisper.
“What a gorgeous farce! Aren’t we all clever?”
“Blunn is the man I admire,” he confided. “The Prince can’t get away with it. He looks as though he wanted to stick a knife into some one.”
There was a little sprinkling of journalists upon the quay, who had come down on the report that an accident had happened to the Grey Lady. They attached themselves especially to Baron Funderstrom, who had, however, one reply to them all.
“It was unfortunate that I could not attend the meeting of the Conference,” he said, “owing to the slight accident to the engines which happened when we were some distance out at sea. As a matter of fact, however, I know quite well what the agenda consisted of and there was nothing in which my views did not coincide with the majority.”
“You know,” one of the journalists asked him, “that the Conference has decided to invite America to join the Pact?”
“I imagined that would take place,” he admitted, without change of countenance. “The decision to forward the invitation was, I presume, unanimous?”
“The discussion took place in private session,” the journalist pointed out. “But one understands that there was no opposition.”
Grant glanced at his watch.
“I wonder if your father is back from Nice?” he said to Susan.
She shook her head.
“He doesn’t usually arrive at the Villa until six o’clock. Now that the regular sessions have commenced, it may be even later.”
“I will come up with you, if I may,” he suggested. “I want to see him as soon as possible after he returns. Besides, I want to escape from these people.”
“Come along,” Susan agreed. “We had better take a carriage. They may send the car down when they see the yacht coming in, but as Peters will be over with Dad at Nice I should think it’s doubtful.”
They drove off and the remainder of the little company melted away from the pier, all apparently in the highest of spirits.
“I must say one thing about Blunn,” Grant declared, as they looked backward for a moment from the top of the hill. “He’s an unprincipled scoundrel, of course, but he’s a sportsman.”
“He’s much better than that Prince von Diss or that terrible Scandinavian,” Susan assented.
“I suppose you realise,” he went on, “that you were the pluckiest person on board.”
“Nonsense!” she answered, colouring with pleasure. “It was really a tremendous rag.”
“I’m not quite sure what that misguided young officer of mine thought about it when he found himself held up by a girl,” Grant observed drily. “They’d have brought it off but for you.”
“I’m very glad,” she murmured. “Next time you give a party like that I hope I’m there.”
He looked at her for a moment a little wistfully. Youth had certainly befriended her. Gertrude had risen that morning with dark lines under her eyes and her manner on the dock had been almost spiritless. There was nothing in Susan’s happy face and smiling expression to indicate a night of anxiety.
“I wish you weren’t such a kid,” he said suddenly.
“What on earth do you mean?” she retorted. “I’m nearly twenty. Surely that is old enough for—for anything. Are you trying to insinuate that I am unintelligent or unformed or something?”
“You are very sweet as you are, Susan,” he assured her. “It was a foolish wish. I wouldn’t have you a day older. And here comes your father. They must have been back from Nice early.”
Susan scarcely showed her usual joy at welcoming her parent. They all arrived at the Villa together and Lord Yeovil at once drew Grant into his little sanctum.
“I am inclined to think that you must have found a mare’s nest, young fellow,” he announced. “You can guess my news?’
“You have received the consent of the Pact to forward the invitation to America,” Grant replied.
“Not only that, but my motion was supported by Prince Lutrecht.”
“Were there no votes against it, then?” Grant asked incredulously.
“There were three black balls,” Lord Yeovil admitted. “That was somewhat of a surprise to us, I must say, but, as you know, three was not sufficient to affect the result.”
“Well,” Grant told him, “I should like you to realise this. It is entirely due to Lady Susan that you had your own way in this matter. You have won the first step towards breaking up what I am convinced now to be a very malevolent conspiracy, and it was your daughter who made it possible.”
“My daughter! Susan!” Lord Yeovil exclaimed. “What do you mean, Grant?”
“I mean that I was right—just as right as I knew I was, all the time. Lutrecht voted against it, as he had always meant to, whatever he may have said at the Meeting. So did Katina. That’s why he was rushed down from Berlin and why poor old Naga had to go. So did Gortz, the Russian. And, if I hadn’t abducted Funderstrom and kept him away until too late to go to the Meeting, his would have been the fourth vote.”
“Abducted Funderstrom!” Lord Yeovil repeated wonderingly.
“That’s just what we did, sir,” Grant assented. “I kept him on the yacht until it was too late for him to go to Nice. There was a tremendous row,” he went on, “practically a free fight, and, at one time, Blunn and Prince von Diss were having things their own way, and they very nearly got Funderstrom back. If it hadn’t been for Susan, who took command when I was hors de combat and, with an automatic in her hand, frightened one of my navigating officers to death, they would have done.”
“You’d better not tell me anything more, Grant,” Lord Yeovil decided, a little gravely, though there was a twinkle of delight in his eyes. “This sort of thing is outside the sphere of practical politics. All I can say is that, whatever you did, I personally am convinced that you did it for the best—and I thank you.”
“What I did,” Grant said earnestly, “I did incidentally for the sake of the world’s peace, but chiefly for the sake of my own country. We’re only halfway through the trouble yet, though. The invitation may be sent. As yet it isn’t accepted.”
“I hope to God it will be!” was the fervent response. “If it isn’t, I tell you. Grant, no man, even though he had the tongue of a god and all the angels, will be able to induce any future Meeting of the Pact to send another invitation.”
“I realise that absolutely,” Grant acquiesced. “I can assure you of one thing. All that stands for the best in my country will be in favour of accepting, but there is a great deal there that stands for the worst. There will be plots, and bribery, and intrigue, any quantity of it. And yet we are going to win. The invitation shall be accepted.”
A servant brought in cocktails and Grant was easily persuaded to stay and dine.
“I shan’t change,” his prospective host told him. “You can send for your things, if you like, or change afterwards if you are going on anywhere. What I want you to do is to sit down in that easy-chair, and tell me—unofficially, mind—the whole story of your adventures on the yacht.”
Grant lit a cigarette and accepted the invitation.
“When we all wished one another good-by this morning,” he said, “I had to pinch myself metaphorically to realise that I wasn’t dreaming. The whole thing seemed too improbable and fantastic. However, here’s the story.”