Lanny reported this to his chief, and both of them tried to find out more. It appeared that the French were advising all the Russian Whites in Paris to oppose the proposal and refuse to attend; they were saying that the Reds had fooled Wilson into believing in their good faith; but France was not to be fooled, and would continue to support the Whites with arms and money, and if they held on they would have their estates and fortunes returned to them. More than once French agents went so far as to threaten the Georgians that, if they supported Prinkipo, they would themselves be regarded as Bolsheviks and expelled from France. So these strangers in a strange land didn't dare whisper the truth to an American until he had pledged his word not to name the source of his information. “What shall we do, Mr. Budd? Will President Wilson protect us?”
And here was Winston Churchill, powerful war minister, scholar, and orator, appearing before the Supreme Council to denounce the Bolsheviks and demand war upon them in the name of humanity, Christianity, and his ancestor, the fighting Duke of Marlborough. Here was Lord Curzon, whom his associates described as “a very superior purzon,” making his appeal especially for Georgia — his lordship had visited that mountainous land in his youth, and had romantic memories of it, and didn't want these memories disturbed by dialectical materialism.
And Zaharoff! He appeared before no councils, for he was neither scholar nor orator, and had no ancestors to boast of; but he had powerful voices to speak for him. If you could believe Robbie Budd, one of these voices was that of the squat little Frenchman with the white walrus mustaches and black skull-cap who sat at the head of the conference table and choked off debate with his “Adopté!” Robbie said that “the Tiger” had been Zaharoffs friend for years, and both his brother and his son were directors in Zaharoffs companies. If you wanted to understand a politician you mustn't pay too much attention to his speeches, but find out who were his paymasters. A politician couldn't rise in public life, in France any more than in America, unless he had the backing of big money, and it was in times of crisis like this that he paid his debts.
X
A day or two after Robbie sailed for home, Lanny received a confirmation of his “royal command”; a little note from Maria del Pilar Antonia Angela Patrocino Simon de Muguiro y Berute, Duquesa de Marqueni y Villafranca de los Caballeros. She didn't sign all that, of course. She requested the pleasure of his company at tea the following afternoon; and Lanny showed the note to Alston, who said: “Go by all means and see what it's about.” So, looking his best in formal afternoon attire, the youth alighted from a taxicab in front of 53, Avenue Hoche, and presented his hat and stick to the black-clad butler, and was escorted upstairs to the drawing room with the Spanish masters on the walls and the elaborate tea service on an inlaid Louis Quinze table.
The duquesa's daughters were as shy and as strictly brought up as Lanny had imagined them; they had large dark eyes and long lashes which they lowered like curtains when a handsome young American gazed too directly. They were clad alike in blue chiffon tea gowns, and blushes came and went in all four of their cheeks. It was evident that they found their visitor interesting; he had come recently from a far-off land which they saw enlarged and glorified on the motion-picture screen. It really seemed as if Lanny was considered what the French call a parti, an eligible person. He was expected to display his charms, and gladly did so.
He entertained three aristocratic ladies with stories of the leading personalities of the greatest show on earth. More than once it had happened that he had been waiting in anterooms when the great ones had come forth chatting, and he had heard what they said; also he knew the anecdotes which were going the rounds. Thus, Arthur Balfour and Clemenceau had appeared at some function, the former with his “topper” and all the trimmings, the latter in a bowler hat. His lordship in a spirit of noblesse oblige had remarked: “I was told to wear formal dress”; to which “the Tiger,” with his mischievous twinkle, replied: “So was I.”
Also the story of Premier Hughes of Australia, a labor leader who had fought his way up in a rough world; a violent little man who had become deaf, and carried with him a hearing machine which he set up on the table. He defied President Wilson, declaring that what his country had got it meant to keep. This delighted Clemenceau, for if Australia kept what she had got, it would mean that France might keep hers. So when they were arranging for another session, Clemenceau remarked to Lloyd George: “Come — and bring your savages with you!”
XI
Presently the master of the house came in, and tea was served; he too was interested in the stories, and it was like a family party. Until finally the ladies arose and excused themselves, and Lanny was alone with the old gray wolf.
It was really a fascinating thing to watch; most educational for a young man with a possible future in the diplomatic world. The perfection of a Grand Officer's technique: the velvety softness of manner, the kindness, the cordiality, even affection; the gentle, insinuating voice; the subtle flattery of an old man asking advice from a young one; the fatherly attitude, the strong offering security to the weak. Won't you walk into my parlor? It is warm, and the cushions are soft, and there is no sweeter honey provided for any fly.
What the munitions king wanted, of course, was for Lanny to become his spy in the Crillon; to circulate among the staff, ask questions, pick up valuable items, and bring them quickly to his employer — or should we say his friend, his backer, perhaps his father-in-law? Nothing was said about this directly; it is only in old fairy stories that the king says: “Go out and slay the seven-headed dragon, and I will give you my daughter's hand.” In the modern world men have learned to convey their meaning with a glance or a smile.
Lanny had read of the Temptation on the Mount in two synoptic narratives. In that ancient trial Satan had shown all the kingdoms of the earth, but had overlooked the greatest treasure of all. Perhaps the high mountain had been a bad choice and it would have been wiser to invite his victim to the home of one of the rich and mighty of the kingdom, and let him see dark eyes peering seductively from behind the curtains of a seraglio.
Lanny had inspected what Zaharoff had to offer and he knew that it was good. These young women had been brought up in a convent and were unspoiled by the world; their hearts were in a susceptible state, and Lanny could have made himself agreeable and stood a chance at either. He had only to bring his daily meed of news and the way would have been made smooth for him; he would have been left alone with the one of his choice and they would have looked at engravings together, played music, strolled in the garden, and whispered the secrets of eager young hearts.
Of course Zaharoff may not have meant it seriously; but why not? He might have done worse. A youth who was pleasing and intelligent, who had got himself a start in the great world, and with a fortune behind him, could have gone to the top in diplomacy, politics, finance. And what more could the youth have asked? Either one of the young women would have made him a good wife. He was sure they were Zaharoff's daughters, and therefore the taint of insanity was not in their blood. He had seen that the old man was fond of them, and would make a helpful father-in-law; it wouldn't be long before Lanny would be in control of the greatest fortune in the world.
All he had to do was to be as tactful as the munitions king himself. He didn't need to say: “I accept your offer and will betray my trust.” No, no; his speech would have been: “I appreciate your position, and how greatly you are inconvenienced by the blundering of the diplomats. If at any time I have information that will be of use to you, I'll be most happy to bring it — of course purely as an act of friendship, and without any thought of reward.” That was the way Robbie hired his agents — those of the high class, who got the biggest pay.