"What makes you so pale?" said
Malling solicitously. "Are you not feeling good?"
"I—I'm all right, thanks," said Godwin, tensing his jaws to keep his teeth from chattering.
He would have to get rid of the thing, but in an inconspicuous manner, and in such wise that when and if it did go off it would not kill anybody. It wouldn't do to throw it out of the cab ...
They reached the Oster-Bygt and got out to look at a singularly unimpressive group of ruins: a little clump of what once had been houses of raw fieldstone, unmortared, of which now only a few stretches of thick wall remained. Wire fences surrounded them and a policeman paced back and forth.
"The settlement of the great Eric Thorvaldson," said Malling reverently. "We keep the cop there to stop American tourists from carrying the houses away as souvenirs, stone by stone."
"Let's walk down to the shore," said Godwin.
THEY CLIMBED ever the rocks, hampered by being handcuffed together. When they came near the sluggish sea Godwin threw the chocolate-bar as far as he could.
At Malling's questioning look he said: "That was a piece of candy in that bag von Wittelsbach left with me; I figured it might have been poisoned too."
"You should not have thrown it away! We needed it to examine!"
"Too late now; let's go back."
As the taxi purred off on the road back towards Julianehaab, a terrific roar split, the air behind them. The shock made the little automobile quiver, and the air was filled with the cries of startled gulls. Craning his neck, Godwin saw a tall geyser of water settling back into the sea a few meters off-shore.
Malling ordered the taxi-driver to turn around again and return to the parking-lot at the Oster-Bygt. He hurried down to the shore, where the uniformed policeman was already standing, looking out to the sea. There was nothing to be seen. At last Malling returned to the cab, saying, "Maybe, Mr. Godwin, it is just as well you threw that thing away when you did!"
"Why don't you pinch Werner von Wittelsbach before he poisons or blows up somebody else?"
Malling looked unhappy. "I should like to. But it is not easy without very good proof, and we do not know that the candy-bar was what exploded. That young man is a—how do you say—protégé of Thor Thomsen, who works closely with Herre Gram ... So you see ..." The detectives spread his hands helplessly.
Chapter 5
AT THE GATES of the palace stood a pair of troopers of Greenland's microscopic armed force, wearing parade uniforms, topped by conical, cossack-style lambskin hats. When Malling identified himself and his fellow-passenger they snapped to present-arms with a click and a clank that made Godwin wince.
"You will get used to it," said Malling.
The taxi drove around a winding driveway between scrubbv dwarf trees and stopped in front of a big field-stone house similar (except in size) to the other residences of Julianehaab.
"The palace," said Malling, getting Out and paying the taxi-driver. "Oh, here comes the king!"
Godwin looked around at the crunch of tires on gravel. Three men were approaching on bicycles. The one in front, in civilian tweeds, was a man about Godwin's stature with a fringe of graying red hair around his nude scalp. He looked stocky and powerful, and the resemblance to his daughter was obvious. Behind him pedalled two more soldiers in black kalpaks, each with a drawn saber held against his right shoulder.
Malling came to-attention and took off his hat, saying; "God Dag, Herlighed!"
The leading cyclist braked to a stop and got off, saying; "God Dag, Malling," and then to Godwin, "So this is my future son-in-law, eh?" He wrung Godwin's hand in a bone-crushing grip. "Come inside."
King Edvard III led the way to the front door and bellowed, "Ingeborg!"
When a woman appeared, the king exchanged words with her in Danish, then said to Godwin, "Your room is not quite ready yet. Come into my sitting-room."
Then he conversed briefly with Malling, who finally unfastened the hand-grip of Godwin's fetter from his hand and remained outside while the king led Godwin into a room and closed the door.
"He was afraid to leave you alone with me," said King Edvard. "As if I needed protection from you! Ha!"
"What ja mean, your Majesty?"
The king stuck out his jaw and thrust his face close to Godwin's, his blue eyes narrowed to slits. "I mean if it weren't for Gram's fordoemme banquet tonight, I'd tie you into knots and stamp the remains into the floor, young swine!"
The king reached out and tweaked Godwin's nose between his powerful fingers.
"Ouch!" said Godwin.
"That's just a taste. Lucky for you, I can't afford to have you turn up at the banquet with a pair of black eyes and a few broken teeth."
Godwin's temper rose in its turn. "Look here, pop, I don't care who you are; you can't push me around! If you wanna fight, I know something about that too. An actor has to learn—"
"Actor! To make it worse, he had to be an actor!"
"What's the matter with being an actor? I didn't ask you to kidnap me up to the end of nowhere and marry me to your daughter!"
"And who asked you to seduce my poor innocent darling and drag the honor of the royal house in the mud?"
"I never did!"
"But those photographs—"
"That was just a joke—"
"Yust a yoke!" roared the king, his speech more Danish under stress. "I'll show you vat is a yoke—"
"I can prove it! Damn it, let me talk for a change! You can take your parachron to California and set it up on the beach, and see exactly what happened! And if I didn't leave her as pure as I found her, I'll not only marry the dame; I'll eat your second-best crown, jewels and all."
"So?" .said the king. "That's an ill wind of another color. If we could take the parachron to California ... But Gram would never consent."
"Why not?"
"It suits his purposes to marry you to Karen, and this gives a fine excuse. He can always say that since the rumors about, those photographs have got out among the people, nobody would believe our denials even if the machine proved otherwise." The king lit a knobby pipe and blew great clouds of smoke.
"Is Gram a kind of dictator in Greenland?"
EDVARD lowered his voice to a conspiratorial level. "For practical purposes, yes. He is in a strong political position and controls the police and the guards, so the rest of us must jump to his bidding. If I could get away with it I'd—hew do you say it—hop the coop too."
"You mean quit?"
"Absolutely. This monarchism is a lot of nonsense; an archaistic revival based on a temporary emotional aberration among the world's peoples. Maybe after you're safely—ah—hooked I can persuade Anker Gram to let me abdicate, and you and Karen can handle the headaches. I have no more use for Greenland now that my wife is dead. Maybe I'll settle in your California, where it's at least warm."
Godwin lit a cigarette and said: "If you fly the coop you oughta take me along."
"Why? You caused this trouble, even if you only meant it as a joke."
"No reason. But—I don't suppose you can bribe a king, can you?"
"Not this king; I've made arrangements to be assured of an adequate income no matter where I live."
"How about a screen test?"
"A screen—you mean you could get me in the movies? Yes?" A light of eagerness showed in the king's eyes.
"I don't say I can get you a good part, but I can give you a start. I got some little influence."
"Now you are speaking. You promise to get me into the movies, I'll promise to try to help you escape ... If you can prove what you said, about you and Karen."