The Prince and Betty

by P. G. Wodehouse

  CHAPTER V

  MR. SCOBELL HAS ANOTHER IDEA

  Owing to collaboration between Fate and Mr. Scobell, John's state entryinto Mervo was an interesting blend between a pageant and a vaudevillesketch. The pageant idea was Mr. Scobell's. Fate supplied thevaudeville.

  The reception at the quay, when the little steamer that plied betweenMarseilles and the island principality gave up its precious freight,was not on quite so impressive a scale as might have been given to themonarch of a more powerful kingdom; but John was not disappointed.During the voyage from New York, in the intervals of seasickness--forhe was a poor sailor--Mr. Crump had supplied him with certain factsabout Mervo, one of which was that its adult population numbered justunder thirteen thousand, and this had prepared him for any shortcomingsin the way of popular demonstration.

  As a matter of fact, Mr. Scobell was exceedingly pleased with the scaleof the reception, which to his mind amounted practically to pomp. ThePalace Guard, forty strong, lined the quay. Besides these, there werefour officers, a band, and sixteen mounted carbineers. The rest of thearmy was dotted along the streets. In addition to the military, therewas a gathering of a hundred and fifty civilians, mainly drawn fromfishing circles. The majority of these remained stolidly silentthroughout, but three, more emotional, cheered vigorously as a youngman was seen to step on to the gangway, carrying a grip, and make forthe shore. General Poineau, a white-haired warrior with a fiercemustache, strode forward and saluted. The Palace Guards presented arms.The band struck up the Mervian national anthem. General Poineau,lowering his hand, put on a pair of _pince-nez_ and began tounroll an address of welcome.

  It was then seen that the young man was Mr. Crump. General Poineauremoved his glasses and gave an impatient twirl to his mustache. Mr.Scobell, who for possibly the first time in his career was not smoking(though, as was afterward made manifest, he had the materials on hisperson), bustled to the front.

  "Where's his nibs, Crump?" he enquired.

  The secretary's reply was swept away in a flood of melody. To the bandMr. Crump's face was strange. They had no reason to suppose that he wasnot Prince John, and they acted accordingly. With a rattle of drumsthey burst once more into their spirited rendering of the nationalanthem.

  Mr. Scobell sawed the air with his arms, but was powerless to dam theflood.

  "His Highness is shaving, sir!" bawled Mr. Crump, depositing his gripon the quay and making a trumpet of his hands.

  "Shaving!"

  "Yes, sir. I told him he ought to come along, but His Highness said hewasn't going to land looking like a tramp comedian."

  By this time General Poineau had explained matters to the band and theychecked the national anthem abruptly in the middle of a bar, with theexception of the cornet player, who continued gallantly by himself tilla feeling of loneliness brought the truth home to him. An awkward stagewait followed, which lasted until John was seen crossing the deck, whenthere were more cheers, and General Poineau, resuming his_pince-nez_, brought out the address of welcome again.

  At this point Mr. Scobell made his presence felt.

  "Glad to meet you, Prince," he said, coming forward. "Scobell's myname. Shake hands with General Poineau. No, that's wrong. I guess hekisses your hand, don't he?"

  "I'll swing on him if he does," said John, cheerfully.

  Mr. Scobell eyed him doubtfully. His Highness did not appear to him tobe treating the inaugural ceremony with that reserved dignity which welike to see in princes on these occasions. Mr. Scobell was a businessman. He wanted his money's worth. His idea of a Prince of Mervo wassomething statuesquely aloof, something--he could not express itexactly--on the lines of the illustrations in the Zenda stories in themagazines--about eight feet high and shinily magnificent, somethingthat would give the place a tone. That was what he had had in his mindwhen he sent for John. He did not want a cheerful young man in a softhat and a flannel suit who looked as if at any moment he might burstinto a college yell.

  General Poineau, meanwhile, had embarked on the address of welcome.John regarded him thoughtfully.

  "I can see," he said to Mr. Scobell, "that the gentleman is making agood speech, but what is he saying? That is what gets past me."

  "He is welcoming Your Highness," said Mr. Crump, the linguist, "in thename of the people of Mervo."

  "Who, I notice, have had the bully good sense to stay in bed. I guessthey knew that the Boy Orator would do all that was necessary. Hehasn't said anything about a bite of breakfast, has he? Has his addresshappened to work around to the subject of shredded wheat and shirredeggs yet? That's the part that's going to make a hit with me."

  "There'll be breakfast at my villa, Your Highness," said Mr. Scobell."My automobile is waiting along there."

  The General reached his peroration, worked his way through it, andfinished with a military clash of heels and a salute. The band rattledoff the national anthem once more.

  "Now, what?" said John, turning to Mr. Scobell. "Breakfast?"

  "I guess you'd better say a few words to them, Your Highness; they'llexpect it."

  "But I can't speak the language, and they can't understand English. Thething'll be a stand-off."

  "Crump will hand it to 'em. Here, Crump."

  "Sir?"

  "Line up and shoot His Highness's remarks into 'em."

  "Yes, sir.

  "It's all very well for you, Crump," said John. "You probably enjoythis sort of thing. I don't. I haven't felt such a fool since I sang'The Maiden's Prayer' on Tremont Street when I was joining the frat.Are you ready? No, it's no good. I don't know what to say."

  "Tell 'em you're tickled to death," advised Mr. Scobell anxiously.

  John smiled in a friendly manner at the populace. Then he coughed."Gentlemen," he said--"and more particularly the sport on my left whohas just spoken his piece whose name I can't remember--I thank you forthe warm welcome you have given me. If it is any satisfaction to you toknow that it has made me feel like thirty cents, you may have thatsatisfaction. Thirty is a liberal estimate."

  "'His Highness is overwhelmed by your loyal welcome. He thanks youwarmly,'" translated Mr. Crump, tactfully.

  "I feel that we shall get along nicely together," continued John. "Ifyou are chumps enough to turn out of your comfortable beds at this timeof the morning simply to see me, you can't be very hard to please. Weshall hit it off fine."

  _Mr. Crump:_ "His Highness hopes and believes that he will alwayscontinue to command the affection of his people."

  "I--" John paused. "That's the lot," he said. "The flow of inspirationhas ceased. The magic fire has gone out. Break it to 'em, Crump. Forme, breakfast."

  During the early portion of the ride Mr. Scobell was silent andthoughtful. John's speech had impressed him neither as oratory nor asan index to his frame of mind. He had not interrupted him, because heknew that none of those present could understand what was being said,and that Mr. Crump was to be relied on as an editor. But he had notenjoyed it. He did not take the people of Mervo seriously himself, butin the Prince such an attitude struck him as unbecoming. Then hecheered up. After all, John had given evidence of having a certainamount of what he would have called "get-up" in him. For the purposesfor which he needed him, a tendency to make light of things was notamiss. It was essentially as a performing prince that he had engagedJohn. He wanted him to do unusual things, which would make peopletalk--aeroplaning was one that occurred to him. Perhaps a prince whotook a serious view of his position would try to raise the people'sminds and start reforms and generally be a nuisance. John could, at anyrate, be relied upon not to do that.

  His face cleared.

  "Have a good cigar, Prince?" he said, cordially, inserting two fingersin his vest-pocket.

  "Sure, Mike," said His Highness affably.

  Breakfast over, Mr. Scobell replaced the remains of his cigar betweenhis lips, and turned to business.

  "Eh, Prince?" he said.

  "Yes!"

  "I want you, Prince," said Mr. Scobell, "to help boom
this place.That's where you come in."

  "Sure," said John.

  "As to ruling and all that," continued Mr. Scobell, "there isn't any todo. The place runs itself. Some guy gave it a shove a thousand yearsago, and it's been rolling along ever since. What I want you to do isthe picturesque stunts. Get a yacht and catch rare fishes. Whoop it up.Entertain swell guys when they come here. Have a Court--see what Imean?--same as over in England. Go around in aeroplanes and that styleof thing. Don't worry about money. That'll be all right. You draw yoursteady hundred thousand a year and a good chunk more besides, when webegin to get a move on, so the dough proposition doesn't need to scareyou any."

  "Do I, by George!" said John. "It seems to me that I've fallen into apretty soft thing here. There'll be a joker in the deck somewhere, Iguess. There always is in these good things. But I don't see it yet.You can count me in all right."

  "Good boy," said Mr. Scobell. "And now you'll be wanting to get to thePalace. I'll have them bring the automobile round."

  The council of state broke up.

  Having seen John off in the car, the financier proceeded to hissister's sitting-room. Miss Scobell had breakfasted apart that morning,by request, her brother giving her to understand that matters of state,unsuited to the ear of a third party, must be discussed at the meal.She was reading her _New York Herald_.

  "Well," said Mr. Scobell, "he's come."

  "Yes, dear?"

  "And just the sort I want. Saw the idea of the thing right away, and isready to go the limit. No nonsense about him."

  "Is he nice-looking, Bennie?"

  "Sure. All these Mervo princes have been good-lookers, I hear, and thisone must be near the top of the list. You'll like him, Marion. All thegirls will be crazy about him in a week."

  Miss Scobell turned a page.

  "Is he married?"

  Her brother started.

  "Married? I never thought of that. But no, I guess he's not. He'd havementioned it. He's not the sort to hush up a thing like that. I--"

  He stopped short. His green eyes gleamed excitedly.

  "Marion!" he cried. "_Marion!_"

  "Well, dear?"

  "Listen. Gee, this thing is going to be the biggest ever. I gotta newidea. It just came to me. Your saying that put it into my head. Do youknow what I'm going to do? I'm going to cable over to Betty to comeright along here, and I'm going to have her marry this prince guy. Yes,sir!"

  For once Miss Scobell showed signs that her brother's conversationreally interested her. She laid down her paper, and stared at him.

  "Betty!"

  "Sure, Betty. Why not? She's a pretty girl. Clever too. The Prince'llbe lucky to get such a wife, for all his darned ancestors away back tothe flood."

  "But suppose Betty does not like him?"

  "Like him? She's gotta like him. Say, can't you make your mind soar, orwon't you? Can't you see that a thing like this has gotta be fixeddifferent from a marriage between--between a ribbon-counter clerk andthe girl who takes the money at a twenty-five-cent hash restaurant inFlatbush? This is a royal alliance. Do you suppose that when a Europeanprincess is introduced to the prince she's going to marry, they let hersay: 'Nothing doing. I don't like the shape of his nose'?"

  He gave a spirited imitation of a European princess objecting to theshape of her selected husband's nose.

  "It isn't very romantic, Bennie," sighed Miss Scobell. She was aconfirmed reader of the more sentimental class of fiction, and thisbusiness-like treatment of love's young dream jarred upon her.

  "It's founding a dynasty. Isn't that romantic enough for you? You makeme tired, Marion."

  Miss Scobell sighed again.

  "Very well, dear. I suppose you know best. But perhaps the Prince won'tlike Betty."

  Mr. Scobell gave a snort of disgust.

  "Marion," he said, "you've got a mind like a chunk of wet dough. Can'tyou understand that the Prince is just as much in my employment as theman who scrubs the Casino steps? I'm hiring him to be Prince of Mervo,and his first job as Prince of Mervo will be to marry Betty. I'd liketo see him kick!" He began to pace the room. "By Heck, it's going tomake this place boom to beat the band. It'll be the biggest kind ofadvertisement. Restoration of Royalty at Mervo. That'll make them takenotice by itself. Then, biff! right on top of that, RoyalRomance--Prince Weds American Girl--Love at First Sight--PicturesqueWedding! Gee, we'll wipe Monte Carlo clean off the map. We'll have 'emlicked to a splinter. We--It's the greatest scheme on earth."

  "I have no doubt you are right, Bennie," said Miss Scobell, "but--" hervoice became dreamy again--"it's not very romantic."

  "Oh, shucks!" said the schemer impatiently. "Here, where's a cableform?"