The Kings of the East: A Romance of the Near FutureGrier, Sydney C.
Science
The Kings of the East: A Romance of the Near Future
Grier, Sydney C.
Palestine -- Fiction; Political fiction; Speculative fiction; Zionism -- Fiction
“Alas, madame, that I can exert no influence even in favour of your
candidate!”
“It is unnecessary, Count. My candidate will win the suffrages of the
Powers by virtue of his fitness for the post. Even now he would be
found, like Themistocles, second on every list. He has links uniting
him to all the Powers, but he is bound to none. He can work or fight
his way to power, as may be necessary, and it would surprise me very
much if he failed to keep what he had won.”
“Ah, madame! What hope is there that so suitable a person should ever
obtain the post?”
“There is the help of friends, Count, and there is a curious condition
suggested in a letter I have just received from Pavelsburg. The
Emperor consents to withdraw the demand for an Orthodox Prince, but
insists that Orthodox influence shall be present in some form in the
new state. If the future governor were married to an Orthodox
princess, for instance, all would be well. A quaint idea is it not?”
Cyril considered the matter as gravely as if he had believed that the
Emperor was really responsible for the suggestion. “I fear, madame,
that it is only mentioned because it is impracticable,” he said. “How
could the person you speak of aspire so high?”
“Ah, Count, all is fair in--other fine arts as well as politics.
Hearts move faster sometimes than the pens of diplomatists.”
“True, madame, but the world has sometimes occasion to say that
presumption is rightly punished.”
“That, Count, will never be said of the man I mean. If he is willing
to be guided by me, he will leave that part of the matter in my hands.
He will continue his diplomatic campaign, and the rest is my business.
Is there any reason why he should refuse to accept the arrangement,
Count?”
“I see none, madame, unless he is a fool.”
Cyril kissed the hand held out to him, and retired. The Princess flung
the scarf contemptuously over the portrait of Queen Ernestine.
“There!” she cried, “you have done your work, and I don’t want your
miserable eyes staring at me any longer. Birnsdorf, call one of the
servants to take this thing away.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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