Carmichael sat tight in his chair, curious to learn what it was all
about. Breunner entered. He was thin and partly bald and quite fifty.
"Breunner, her highness will need many flowers to-morrow. See to it that
they are cut in the morning."
"It shall be done, Excellency."
The chancellor turned to the passports.
"There is only one question, Herr Grumbach. It says here that you were a
native of Bavaria before going to America. How long ago did you leave
Bavaria?"
"A good many years, your Excellency." Grumbach inspected the label in
his hat.
"You have, of course, retained your Bavarian passport?"
Carmichael was now leaning forward in his chair, deeply interested. He
saw that the chancellor was watching Grumbach as a cat watches a
mouse-hole.
Grumbach brought forth a bulky wallet. The edges of Bank of England
notes could be seen, of fat denominations.
"Here it is, your Excellency; a little ragged, but readable still."
The chancellor went over it carefully.
"Herr Captain, do you know this compatriot?"
"We fought side by side in the American war. I saw no irregularity in
his papers. I am rather astonished to see him here and not at the police
bureau, if any question has arisen over his passports."
"Fought side by side," the chancellor repeated thoughtfully.
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