with a new object uppermost in his mind lechmere left merehaven house and took his way into piccadilly. the roads were almost deserted now, save for a solitary foot-passenger and a dingy night cab. one of these crept along presently, and lechmere ordered the driver to take him to fleet street. in contrast with the west end there was bustle and animation enough in the street that never sleeps. it was near to the hour when the great morning papers went to press; there were lights everywhere, and the hoarse rattle of machinery. lechmere came at length to the offices of the mercury and demanded to see the editor. the request was an unusual one at so late an hour, and the clerk asked if the visitor had an appointment.
"i have no appointment at all," lechmere said. "but at the same time i am going to see the editor. give my card to mr. hunt, and say that i will not detain him many moments."
there was something in lechmere's manner that caused the clerk to take the card without further protest. lechmere had before now forced himself in times of emergency on the great ones of the earth, so that he was not going to be baffled by a newspaper editor, important functionary as the latter was. he waited some little time before the clerk returned.
mr. hunt was very busy, he said, and was sorry he could not see the gentleman. perhaps he would like to call later on, or send up the nature of his business? some very important news had come in late, and in the circumstances it was impossible for the editor to grant an interview to anybody.
lechmere said he would call again, and turned for the door. but he had no intention of being put off in this way. he paused as a rush of business distracted the attention of the clerk. in a corridor leading to a flight of steps two jaded-looking reporters were talking eagerly.
"is it a fake or a real thing?" the first one said. "i've just come back from westminster—scene in the house, don't you know—and gregg would not even look at us. said we had a real good thing on."
"then you didn't get to the bottom of what it was?" the other asked eagerly.
"no, i didn't. something about the king of somewhere and a row in the office. anyway, the whole of the staff up in the composing-room are working with closed doors, so that no hated rival shall get a sniff of what is going on. we are evidently in for a big sensation."
lechmere waited for no more; he gripped his opportunity with both hands. he advanced along the corridor to where the two men were talking, and asked what floor mr. hunt's office was on. the two men looked at him with something of admiration on their faces. hunt was a martinet in his office, and difficult of access at all times.
"second floor on the right," one of the reporters said with a wink at his companion. "don't knock, but walk right in. hunt is always glad to see visitors at this hour. it is a refreshing change after the grind[182] of the night. he'll be quite pleased to see you."
lechmere grimly expressed his thanks, though the sarcastic force of the words and the wink were not lost on him. he was here to see hunt, and he was going to do it at any cost. he made his way up the staircase and along to the second floor, where a door with the name of hunt in large letters attracted his eye. the door of the room was shut, but lechmere walked in.
the room was empty for the moment. the floor was littered with paper and proofs; on the desk a slip of galley proof lay. the heading attracted lechmere's attention, and he whistled. then he sat calmly down to await mr. hunt's return. he had no undue trial of his patience, for a moment later the editor of the mercury bustled into the room.
there was a pleased smile on his face; he seemed to be on the best of terms with himself. but the smile faded away, and the mean, eager face grew anxious as hunt detected the presence of his visitor.
"now this is really too bad, mr. lechmere," he protested. lechmere did not fail to notice the agitation of the speaker's voice. "of course, i had your card. i sent a message down for you. if you had been the king i would not have seen you to-night. i never see anybody after twelve o'clock. i repeat, if you had been the king i should have had to refuse you an audience."
"sounds exceedingly impressive, not to say regal," lechmere remarked in a dry tone, and without the slightest suggestion of an apology. "what king do you happen to mean?"
"why, the king of england, of course," hunt puffed. "any living king, as a matter of fact."
"any king in the almanach de gotha—with the exception of the king of asturia, eh?"
[183]
the question was couched in a tone of easy badinage, but its effect on hunt was wonderful. the face grew grey and his hands trembled. if he had been accused of some crime he could not have looked more agitated. he tried to bluff, but he could only stammer something incoherent.
"really, i don't know what you mean," he said. "the king of asturia, you say?"
"my words were quite plain, mr. hunt. i came here to-night determined to see you and determined not to be bluffed by all the clerks in your office. your paper has gone to press, and therefore you must have a few minutes to spare. you need not be afraid. your composing-room door is locked, and the present item of news destined for your readers is not likely to leak out. will you be so good as to let me have an advanced copy of the paper?"
"certainly not," hunt said. "this is an outrage. if you do not leave my office——"
"sit down," lechmere said sternly. he might have been speaking to an unruly hound. "you are not going beyond that door without we have an explanation. the king of asturia was here to-night. if you deny it, i shall give you the lie from that printed proof on the table before you."
hunt glanced at the long galley slip and wriggled. all his dignity had vanished.
"i am not going to deny it," he said. "the king of asturia has been here. he came in a cab. i did not send for him, he came of his own free will. he gave me certain information——"
"i have not the slightest doubt of it," lechmere said drily. "unfortunately, his majesty has made for himself in london the sort of reputation which is coveted only by a certain class of music-hall[184] frequenter and the haunter of the typical strand bar. there have been occasions when his majesty has exceeded the bounds in the way of intoxicating liquor. did you see any signs of it to-night?"
hunt intimated that he had. he was palpably uneasy and uncomfortable. every admission that he made lechmere had literally to drag from him.
"the description sounds convincing," lechmere said. "but suppose i was in a position to tell you that the king of asturia had not been here in fleet street at all?"
"impossible!" hunt cried. "i saw his majesty; he sat in that chair for an hour. a man in my position is not likely to make mistakes like that. and he gave me certain information that i propose to make a sensation of. what that information is you will know with the rest of the general public when you get your mercury at breakfast time."
lechmere nodded. beyond the door he could see something in the guise of a foreman printer with a damp news sheet in his hand. he knew at once that here was an early copy of the paper; that early copy he had made up his mind to possess. he rose as if satisfied with his interview.
"very well," he said. "i will wish you good-night. you have done a foolish thing, and, unless i am greatly mistaken, you are the victim of one of the most mistaken cases of identity ever played off on the editor of a great newspaper. but the fault is on your own head. good-night."
lechmere passed out, closing the door behind him. the printer stood there, evidently waiting for him to go. lechmere silently drew his purse from his pocket and extracted a ten-pound note. this he held up in the glaring light of the passage and[185] pointed to the paper. the printer perspired profusely. then, with a sudden spasmodic gesture he folded up the paper and placed it in lechmere's hand, at the same time snatching convulsively for the money. the whole transaction did not take five seconds.
calm and easy in his triumph, lechmere walked leisurely down the stairs. once in fleet street he stood under the friendly light of a lamp and opened the paper. as he did so he started. well in hand as he usually kept himself, lechmere was surprised to-night.
there it was for anybody to see who had an eye at all; the fifth page was filled with it:—
"the king of asturia and his people. his majesty visits the mercury office and speaks freely. does not care for the responsibilities of state, and has made up his mind to abdicate. has already signed the declaration to that effect. prefers piccadilly to the balkan service. one of the most amazing romances in the history of europe."
"good heavens!" lechmere cried. "so that is the game! what a lucky thing i came down here! of all the audacious things that ever happened, this is the most audacious of all."
he crushed the paper in his hand and hurried breathlessly westward at the top of his speed.
