"I can prove it! Goddam 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 it 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 colour. 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 rumours 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—how 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 all 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."
"I can't do that until we're in California."
"I understand; we have to trust each other a little. We shall have to try to make it in one foul swoop—you and me and the Bruuns and their machine all together. Karen too, if she wants to come. But don't fool yourself; getting away from Anker Gram won't be so easy as falling off a tree."
There was a knock on the door, and Ingeborg announced that Mr. Godvin's room was ready. In the hall Detective Malling waited to take up his old duty. He looked relieved that nothing had happened either to the king or to his charge.
In the suite, turned over to the future prince-consort, Godwin found a valet, one Syv, waiting to serve him. Syv had laid out a gaudy costume of the sort that Godwin would have associated with historical movies: a garb similar to a diplomatic uniform with a high-necked coat covered with gold lace in front.
"Do I wear that?" he said.
"Yes sir," said Syv.
By the time Godwin was regally clad, sounds without indicated that the festivities were imminent, though the sub-Arctic summer day still had several hours to go. Godwin said:
"By Goldwyn, I could use a drink about now!"
"I vill get vun, sir," said Syv. "Vat vould you like?"
"How about a double Martini? And get one for Otto too."
Malling protested, but with little fire of conviction, and when Syv came back he let himself be persuaded to drink. Half an hour later Godwin was regaling his hearers with reminiscences:
"... so the director says: 'Are you a stunt man or aren't you?' and the stunt man, he says: 'If you wanna wrassle that there octopus, you get in that there tank and wrassle him. I got a family.' So the director turns to me and says—what is it?"
It was Ingeborg with a message that his Majesty and her Highness were waiting Mr. Godvin to accompany them in to dinner.
Feeling no pain, Claude Godwin, accompanied by a slightly weaving Malling, rose to leave. Godwin murmured:
"Pull yourself together, Otto. They'd never believe you could control me if they saw you stagger."
The ill-matched pair made a reasonably smooth progress to a reception-room where they found the king and the princess milling around with early arrivals. Godwin, remembering his costume-pictures, half expected a liveried trumpeter at the door to blow a flourish and announce his name, but no such thing happened. The Greenlanders, even if they kept a king, were somewhat stingy with their pomp. Malling whispered:
"Hold your left hand close to my right, Mr. Godvin, so the handcuff von't show."
"Hell with that," said Godwin. "If they're such dopes as to throw an engagement party they gotta drag the groom to with bracelets, damned if I'll help 'em out."
Godwin was introduced to various people, but as most of the talk was in Danish he could only give them glassy smiles of polite incomprehension. A servitor passed him with a tray of glasses containing a pale liquid that Godwin took for more Martinis. His first sip, however, showed that he had got hold of something stronger.
"Aqvavit," said Malling.
Karen was saying: "Father, how shall Mr. Godwin take me in to dinner with Mr. Malling attached to him?"
Godwin suggested: "The king could take Malling in, and I could follow right behind with you."
"Nonsense," said Edvard. "I shall take my daughter in, and since you're joined to Malling you can take him."
Karen said: "Has not this foolishness gone far enough? I am sure we could trust Mr. Godwin not to dive through the window if he were freed."
The king shrugged. "No doubt, but he won't agree." He nodded towards where Anker Gram was talking to the British Minister Plenipotentiary. "By the way, I don't think you know Thor Thomsen, our leading industrialist."
Godwin saw that Thor Thomsen was old and potbellied with a jowly bulldog face. The Stuart Pretender glowered gloomily over the industrialist's shoulder.
"I have had that—ah—pleasure," said Werner von Wittelsbach.
As Godwin finished his drink it occurred to him that his unknown ill-wisher might have poisoned it, but he was too well lubricated by now to care. When dinner was announced he trailed docilely in behind the king and Karen, Malling shambling beside him.
An hour later Godwin had tucked away the last of the banquet and sniffed suspiciously at a glass of yellowish liquid set before him.
"Svedish punch," explained Malling. "Used for breading."
"For what?"
"Breading. You know, ven we say 'skaal' "
"Oh, toasting." Godwin tried some and found it good though sweetish. Malling had already drunk half of his.
The chatter died as Gram finished his coffee-and rose. He made a speech ending in "Skaal!" which Godwin took for a toast to the king. Godwin watched those around him and went through the same ritual motions. Gram made another speech with a "Skaal!" to Karen Hauch. When he did the same thing once more Godwin started to rise for the third time, but a jerk on his handcuff brought him down again. Malling hissed:
"Sit down, stupid! That vas to you!"
"How should I know? He knows I don't understand Danish."
"Den you better learn, but fast."
Gram, ignoring Godwin's gaffe, went ahead to make another speech introducing somebody, who in his turn made a speech. Not being able to understand what was said gave Godwin an uncomfortable feeling of having been struck deaf, though he tried to laugh when the others did.
Two hours, five speeches, and uncounted Swedish punches later the banquet broke up. Godwin awakened Malling by jerking the handcuff, and together they wandered into the ballroom, where the king had started the record-player and was dancing with Thomsen's wife, a middle-aged dame with a battleship jaw. Through the broad windows on the north side the long Greenland sunset blazed in purple and gold. Godwin spotted Karen Hauch and dragged the now alarmingly unsteady Malling over to her, saying: