# Pleased to Meet You/Chapter 12

It was odd that so brief an interval should have had so marked an effect on the Colonel. When he rejoined the President and Herr Quackenbush, the interpreter's fluent American had suffered an obvious deterioration. He now spoke with an Illyrian accent hardly less strong than the President's own. Herr Guadeloupe, however, unconscious of any change, welcomed him joyfully and prepared to shift the difficult burden of small-talk to a more capable linguist.
"Ha, my interpretations!" he said jovially. "I schust tell de Herr Ambassador ve turn over new leafs in Illyria. He und Frau Quackenbush see how ve burn all our britches behind us."
Herr Quackenbush, somewhat puzzled, turned to the Colonel, who was deftly abstracting for his own use the cocktail that he could see the President did not really need.
​"Not britches, britches," explained the Colonel. "Not britches in de sense of pantaloons, britches in de sense of Brooklyn Britches. Ve burn our britches in de behind, dat is to say ve begin a new era."
"The President tells me you have been in the States," said Quackenbush.
"Ach, soch happy memory of your great contry," cried the Colonel blithely. "I drink to it, so. Zose beautiful Statue of Libertine, zose tall Voolvort Building, zose companionable sobvay, ve haf noddings in Illyria to comparison."
"Your ideas of life are different over here," said the envoy generously. "You have charms of your own."
"No, no," insisted the enthusiastic Colonel. "Here ve are poor and bestial. Ve haf soch ambitiousness to be like America; give us de chance, ve be go-getters, back-slappers, cake eaters, beeg butter-und-egg men. You gif us easy terms on de debt, ve show our gratefulness ve start de Rotary Clubs, ve tear down de old ​buildings put up apartment housings, ve dig sobvay mid beautiful newsstands and lofely pictures on de magazine covers."
"I can see you have made quite a study of American life," said the surprised envoy.
"It is de civilization of de future," continued the Colonel in his vigorous guttural. "Strong, romantic, eggsiting. Alvays de Herr President he ask me about America, tell him it is Paradise, de contry of beautiful vimmen vere de hosbands is shot up in an office from nine a.m. till six p.m. Und your Vashington Deecy, soch a magnificence. De perfect sitting-place for a government dat would be chenerous to poor liddle foreign contries. Und your Prohibition, a noble idea: a contry vere no one never drinks, it leave so moch more for de rest of us."
"Some of your impressions may have been a little misleading," said Quackenbush, "but certainly they are very flattering. You must come again."
"He tell you how moch ve admire America?" ​asked Guadeloupe, who was unable to keep up with the rapid-fire of his interpreter.
"I say to Herr Quackenbush dat all de modern civilization come to us from his contry, de Ford-cars, de movies, de fine plumbings. I say ve owe de Americans a great deal."
This last phrase, which the President could understand, seemed to him ominous, and he frowned covertly to his volatile adviser.
"Now that the United States has recognized the Illyrian Republic," said Quackenbush, turning politely to Guadeloupe, "we shall expect you to send a minister to Washington. Why wouldn't the Admiral—I mean, the Colonel—be just the man? I could give you some telephone numbers in Washington that might be useful to one of your tastes," he added, observing that the Colonel was waving the cocktail shaker to verify its emptiness. "There would be no need to mention the matter to Mrs. Quackenbush."
"Dat suit me down to de terra firma," replied the Colonel brightly. "First crack out de box ​I be real von hundred per cent American." But the President shook his head.
"I could not spare de Colonel," he said. "He is my four flushes. Besides also, Colonel Cointreau is delicate official on de staff of de League of Nations, Geneva need him near de bedside. He is de midvife for any contry dat is going to haf a baby repoblic."
The conversation was interrupted by Nyla. Evidently the Colonel's instructions had been followed, for she was lovely in an airy frock of some golden tissue. She was introduced to Herr Quackenbush, and greeted him charmingly. But it was plain to that experienced observer that the brightness of her eyes was chiefly for the interpreter. Nor did he even blame her; he too was vastly taken by the humorous young offcial.
"It pleases for me to meet you," she said in so daintily foreign an accent that the gross jargon of the others was put to shame. "Dat is de speech Colonel Cointreau tell me Americans alvays say to demselves."
​What is so delicious as one's own tongue delicately mispronounced byabeautiful woman? So thought the ambassador and made her his best bow. He turned to Cointreau.
"Certainly you can't pretend that America has any monopoly of pretty girls."
"Speaking for de League, I am happy to state dat no contry has monopoly of good fortune," replied the Colonel readily. "Tanks to de brodigality of nature, dere is gonsolation everywheres."
Nyla reproved her father for having kept Herr Quackenbush talking when it was time to dress for dinner. The President appealed to his adviser with his eyes, but saw no sign of encouragement. When the two statesmen had gone, the Colonel began a graceful speech about Nyla's costume, but she cut him short.
"Gene," she said mysteriously, "you understand about Americans, perhaps you can help."
"What's the trouble?"
"I know it sounds silly, but—do you suppose Frau Quackenbush has a secret sorrow?"
​"She has Mildred, but there's nothing secret about her. And even Mildred has her points."
"Well, there's something wrong. She's making queer noises."
"Who, Mildred? It's that cocktail."
"No, not Mildred, Frau Quackenbush."
"What kind of noises?"
"Lorli says she's sighing and groaning."
"Probably trying to get into her dinner dress. The American women have a passion for wearing their clothes too tight."
"Lorli says she's in a terrible state, tears running down her face."
"They can't run far, not on that figure. Maybe she's heard she'll have to dance with your father."
"But what can we do? It's terribly embarrassing. You know how much depends on this evening."
"She's got nervous prostration from spending the day with Mildred."
"Gene, please be serious. You said the League ​sent you here to help us, and now when something happens you don't do anything."
"I am serious. I never was more serious in my life. You don't know what a lot I've got on my mind."
"But Gene, you're so clever, I thought perhaps you could think of something. If you could have a talk with her, I'm sure you could cheer her up. You're the only one here who cap understand her."
"What's the matter with her husband?"
"If you had a secret sorrow, would you confide it to Herr Quackenbush?"
"He knows some useful telephone numbers. But maybe I have a secret sorrow. Nyla, listen, I want——"
"I've got to go and see that Daddy finds his studs."
"But Nyla——"
"If you can comfort Frau Quackenbush, you can tell me about that later."
"Nyla, you little fiend——"
The blue sleeves of the Admiral were round ​her, but only for an instant. The victory was as brief and fallacious as any of the engagements of the Dalmatian navy, for just then Romsteck entered, with a petty cough, to supervise the removal of the appetizers.
The major domo's manner as the footmen cleared away was perfect. The Colonel, on the other hand, seemed somewhat at a loss. He lit a cigarette, studied the bullet-holes in the panel, and then stood with his back to the room, looking off over the terrace. The underlings departed noiselessly; finally Romsteck signalled with another small cough.
"Romsteck," said the Colonel, without looking round.
"Sir?"
There was a pause.
"Could you cash a check?"
"No sir."
Another pause.
"But I'd have no objection to lending it to you, sir."
"Romsteck, are youtryingto embarrass me?"
​"Impossible, sir."
"This League of Nations business is so uncertain."
"Very."
"I might be called back to Geneva quite suddenly, and I find that I have neglected——"
"Precisely, sir. I admire you for it."
A pause.
"Damn it, Romsteck, you are embarrassing me."
"It does you credit, sir."
Another pause.
"If a couple of hundred florins would do, sir, it would be like old times. Quite in the Grand Ducal tradition.—I felt the tradition reviving yesterday; but I was sure of it when—when I interrupted you just now, sir."
The Colonel wheeled angrily and strode across the room.
"Look here, not a word against the Fräulein, do you understand? Damn you, the grandest grand duchess in the whole mildewed tribe wasn't worth the heel of her slipper."
​"That also does you credit, sir," said Romsteck calmly.
Cointreau stared at him and then turned again to the door by the terrace.
"Well, what is it?" he asked presently.
"What leads you to believe there is anything further, sir?"
The Colonel laughed, flicked away his cigarette, and came back into the room.
"Romsteck, I underestimated you. You're a clever man. But there's not much time before dinner. I've got a good appetite, I'd hate to spoil it."
"There is a man here to see the American ambassador."
A pause, and the Colotel studied Romsteck's face keenly. It was properly inscrutable.
"Does he make chewing motions with his mouth?"
"It might be so described," admitted Romsteck.
"The ambassador is dressing. The man will have to wait."
​"Would it not be better, sir, to see him now?"
"You know very well it is important the ambassador should not be upset. The Herr President particularly wants to keep him in a genial frame of mind."
"Quite so, sir. Therefore I say, see this man now. He is from the American military police."
"Ah. I think we shall need a little finesse," remarked the Colonel. "Romsteck, I believe this man is a dangerous fellow, dangerous to the best interests of a happy evening. I can count on you?"
"Absolutely, sir. It is quite in the Farniente tradition."
"A glass of the 1865 cognac and two or three footmen, the big ones, would be helpful."
"Very good, sir," and Romsteck retired.
He returned a few moments later, ushering a burly fellow in citizens' clothes, who saluted briskly to the figure in brilliant uniform.
"American M.P., sir," said the stranger. "Sergeant Higgins."
"Please for to meet you," said Cointreau in ​his best guttural. "I tought all de M. P.'s vere Engleesch."
"Military Police, from the zone of occupation. On medical detail from the Base Hospital at Coblentz. I have to see Mr. Quackenbush."
"I am sorry, M.P., I onderstand Engleesch mid huge difficulties."
"Maybe you can read it, sir. I have an extradition paper here that explains the matter."
The Colonel examined the document, apparently with some perplexity, for he lingered over it until three footmen entered with a decanter of brandy.
"Dere is a photographs here," he said. "Vot a nasty looking gustomer. You hunting somevon, hey? De Herr Ambassador he is fugitive?"
"No sir, but I need his OK to get codperation from the Farniente police."
"It is pitiful, M.P., de Herr Ambassador could not be coöperated schust now. His vife got hysterics, his baby got de nervous prostrations, himself is about to try to gollect some money from de Illyrian dreasury. It is a diffi​cult moment. You seddle down qvietly, visit de sights, by und bye ve see vot ve can do."
"I'm sorry, I got my orders."
"I do not onderstand," said the Colonel affably, signalling the footmen to approach. "Anyhow, our old Illyrian osbitality must be observe. A glass of de 1865 cognac, M.P., den ve summon de Herr Quackenbush.—More dan vonce, dey tell me, dis cognac have save de state."
The sergeant, much pleased, accepted the glass and drank with enthusiasm. He was then surprised to find Colonel Cointreau holding a small shining barrel at his face.
"Put 'em up!" said the Colonel. "Quick! No noise about it, buddy."
The M.P.'s arms rose, one hand still holding the empty glass, which Romsteck carefully took and replaced on the tray. The three brawny footmen stood ready.
"You dirty Fritz, what's the idea?" cried the astounded victim.
"Tousand apology," said the Colonel, re​membering his accent, "but ve cannot haf Herr Quackenbush interruptioned dis evening. You take my advices, M.P., and keep qviet, it is de old Farniente tradition."
The man ducked suddenly and dived for the Colonel's legs, but the footmen threw themselves upon him. The struggle was fierce but brief. It cost the Colonel one of his Dalmatian epaulettes, but the cold pressure of his weapon on the policeman's cheek brought the enemy to terms.
"Sorry ve haf to be so rude," said the Colonel, With one hand he detached his scarlet sash and handed it to Romsteck, who gagged the angry captive. "Dis is de first time de Dalmatian navy ever see any active service.—Romsteck, take him away. Keep him quiet until the morning."
The major domo and the footmen led off the bewildered M. P. The Colonel, now that the tension was over, put his revolver to his mouth. On it he played a cheerful variation of the Moating Song.