Sara Van Decht leaned back in her basket-chair and looked across the cobbled street, across the trim square where the miniature fountain was playing, to where a cluster of red-roofed, white-fronted houses were huddled together in picturesque confusion.

“Well, I think it’s delightful!” she exclaimed. “I never could have imagined anything so picturesque—or so restful.”

Mr. Van Decht scratched his chin thoughtfully and selected a cigar from his case.

“It is restful,” he admitted. “I can’t say that I’m quite accustomed to taking my meals upon the pavement, even under an awning, and there is an odour of garlic about the hotel which I don’t altogether relish. I grant you that it is restful, though! There’s no denying that!”

The girl laughed softly.

“Poor old dad,” she exclaimed. “I guess it’s selfish of me to drag you all across Europe to this little bit of a country, but I couldn’t help it a bit. I positively must see Ughtred with a crown on his head and a sceptre in his hand before we go back. It’s too delicious. Now I wonder how we ought to let him know that we are here.”

“Telephone!”

She laughed again—laughed till the tears stood in her eyes.

“Father, you must try to be more mediÆval,” she exclaimed. “Fancy ringing up a king!”

“Send a boy round with a note then,” he suggested, “or shall I stroll round to the palace and let them know? I’d just as soon. It’s only a few minutes’ walk.”

“I will write,” she decided, “but there is no hurry. We will go out for a walk presently and look at these dear, quaint little shops. There are heaps of things I want to buy.”

Mr. Van Decht rose suddenly from his chair.

“Jehosophat!” he cried. “What’s that?”

It was a horse-car, old-fashioned, rickety, with canvas awnings, drawn wearily along by an aged horse. Mr. Van Decht eyed it with vast curiosity.

“Jehosophat,” he repeated. “I’d like to take that whole affair right back with us and sell it to the first dime museum that’d give the price. Look at the bonnet on the horse’s head, Sara, and the bell! My, how she bumps! I must have a talk with your King, Sara. My number-three installation is what is wanted here with overhead wires and forty Cambridge wagons. With cheap labour and water transport I guess it would be a light contract. I’m going to board the next that comes along, Sara, and get the thing into my head.”

“The streets look very narrow and hilly for cars, father.”

“Guess the whole place wants straightening out a bit,” Mr. Van Decht admitted. “If your King wants to make this place go, Sara, he’s got to imbibe a few Western notions, and the sooner the better.”

“You shall talk to him,” Sara remarked, with a little smile at the corner of her lips. “I am sure that he will be interested.”

“I guess I can give him some ideas,” Mr. Van Decht remarked, puffing vigorously at his cigar. “You’d better write that note, Sara.”

“In a moment, father. It’s so fascinating to watch these country people with their baskets. Look! There is something you can’t beat in New York, anyhow.”

Up the steep, narrow road came a company of horse-soldiers—a gay sight—in flashing helmets, plumes, and the soft blue uniform of the Thetian Guards. A band up at the palace played them in. The people rushed to the right and to the left, lined the pavements and shouted a greeting. Then suddenly every head was uncovered, and a little respectful murmur rippled through the crowd.

“The King! Long live the King!”

Sara rose eagerly from her place at the table. They were virtually upon the pavement—a little extended near the hotel and dotted about with tiny round tables. It was Ughtred who rode at the head of the little troop of soldiers, and suddenly their eyes met. A sharp word of command broke from his lips. He dismounted and crossed the street towards them, drawing off his heavy white gloves as he came.

“Welcome!” he cried. “Welcome to Theos.”

He took Sara’s hands in his and held them tightly.

“This,” he said, “is charming of you. One moment!”

He beckoned to the officer who had been riding by his side, and gave a few brief orders. The troop passed on. Reist and a younger man in dark riding-clothes remained.

“If you will allow me,” Ughtred said, “I will take a cup of coffee with you. There is a garden here, I believe.”

The hotel proprietor came hurrying out. Reist explained what was required. They made their way into a semi-public garden, which was instantly cleared of chance loiterers. A table was set in a shady corner.

“Mr. Van Decht,” Ughtred said, “I must shake hands with you. You are most welcome. I appreciate your coming here immensely.”

“My daughter,” Mr. Van Decht explained, “has been set upon this trip ever since your friend Brand began his letters upon Theos in the Daily Courier. They have been very widely read, sir. We must congratulate you upon having taken hold of your kingdom so firmly.”

“You are very good,” Ughtred answered. “Brand has been a God-send to us. The position here has been fairly represented to England, and, in fact, Europe, through his reports. He, too, will be delighted to see you again. Miss Van Decht, you must allow me to present Captain Hartzan of the Artillery—the Duke of Reist you already know. Now, when did you arrive?”

“Last night,” Sara answered. “That dear little train of yours brought us from the frontier. We scarcely expected to see you so soon.”

“It is my great good-fortune,” Ughtred answered. “I go every morning to the fortifications to direct the artillery practice. The Van Decht battery has been in action this morning,” he added, smiling.

“I presume, sir, that this is a warlike country!” Mr. Van Decht remarked.

A shadow crept over the King’s face.

“It is not our choice,” he answered. “We are surrounded by dangerous enemies, and we are a very small nation. Our security depends solely upon our readiness to resist attack. For these last two months I have had to forget that I am a King, and remember only that I am Commander-in-Chief of our little army.”

“I presume that you are not anticipating any immediate trouble, sir?” Mr. Van Decht asked.

The King glanced round. Already he was learning the lesson of caution.

“The history of Theos,” he said, “is doubtless unknown to you. Turkey is our old and historic enemy, and her attitude towards us just now is, to say the least of it, threatening. We trust to our inoffensiveness and the good-will of the Powers to preserve our independence, but we judge it best to be prepared so far as possible to fight our own battles. Well, Crasten, what are you bringing us?”

The hotel proprietor bowed low, and filled some finely-cut glasses with liqueur from a dusty and carefully cradled bottle.

“The fin champagne, your Majesty, was brought from the cellars of Louis Philippe by my father. I trust your Majesty will approve.”

Ughtred sipped it, and did approve. He accepted some coffee also, and broke a roll in his fingers.

“This is my longest fast,” he explained, laughing. “We ride out at six to escape the heat. Part of my afternoon I spend at the barracks and part at the House of Laws.”

“It appears to me, sir, that you find pretty considerable to do,” Mr. Van Decht remarked. “I’d an idea that royalty had an easier time of it.”

“A good many people share that idea, Mr. Van Decht,” Ughtred answered, good-humouredly. “For myself, I never worked half so hard in all my life. But then, it is work I love, and for my country, which is very dear to me. Some day I hope, when things are more settled, to be able to drop the military part of my labours, and give all my attention to the development of my country.”

Mr. Van Decht nodded. He was greatly enjoying the fin champagne.

“You’re right there, sir,” he declared. “Make a nation strong commercially, and she’ll hold her own in time against the world. I guess you’re a travelled man, sir, and you won’t mind a stranger remarking that in some ways you’re a little behind the times here.”

Sara’s eyes twinkled with amusement. The young officer, who understood a little English, glanced at Reist, and was speechless.

“You mustn’t mind father,” Sara exclaimed. “You know he’s a terrible democrat, and utilitarian to the backbone. He’s dying to introduce electric cars here and electric light.”

“Why, you want them bad enough,” her father admitted. “I don’t suppose we’ve a town of half the size in the States where we haven’t both, and this a capital city too.”

“Mr. Van Decht is quite right,” Ughtred said, gravely, “only one has always to remember that this is a very poor country, and we can’t afford to pay for luxuries.”

“I guess those cars would pay for themselves before long, sir,” Mr. Van Decht declared.

“It is very likely,” Ughtred answered. “I’m sure that if any capitalist were disposed to undertake the commercial part of it, there would be very little difficulty about the concession.”

Mr. Van Decht rose up briskly.

“If you’ll excuse me, sir,” he said, “I guess I’ll hail that bobby hutch and go the round.”

The King laughed.

“You are a man of business, Mr. Van Decht,” he said. “Certainly, go and help yourself to all the information you can. Sara, if you will come up with me I will show you the palace. I am afraid there is nothing there to interest your father, but he will have many opportunities of seeing it. Reist, will you see if the carriage has come?”

For a moment they were alone.

They looked into one another’s eyes, and Sara laughed softly.

“Why, this is just the queerest thing in the world,” she murmured. “What will happen to me at the palace if I forget to say ‘your Majesty,’ and ought I to curtsey when I speak to you?”

Ughtred smiled back at her.

“I believe,” he said, “that you ought to kiss—my hand.”

“Then I guess I won’t,” she answered. “I believe I’m democrat enough to expect——”

“What?”

He leaned over towards her, but the sentence was never finished. Reist stood before them, and the look on his face was a forecast of coming trouble.

“The carriage is here, your Majesty!” he announced.