turn, had
no other alternative than to take summary action in respect to the
indiscretions of a fellow-countryman.

In the beginning, it was not altogether the fault of the young man who
had come from America to serve his country. Whatever may have been the
turmoil in the Grand Duke's palace at Thorberg, Chase's conscience was
even and serene. He had no excuses to offer--for that matter none would
have been entertained--and he was resigning his post with the confidence
that he had performed his obligations as an American gentleman should,
even though the performance had created an extraordinary commotion.
Chase was new to the Old World and its customs, especially those
rigorous ones which surrounded royalty and denied it the right to
venture into the commonplace. The ambassador at the capital of the
Empire at first sought to excuse him on the ground of ignorance; but the
Grand Duke insisted that even an American could not be such a fool as
Chase had been; so, it must have been a wilful offence that led up to
the controversy.

Chase had been the representative of the American Government at Thorberg
for six months. He never fully understood why the government should have
a representative there; but that was a matter quite entirely for the
President to consider. The American flag floated above his doorway in
the Friedrich Strasse, but in all his six months of occupation not ten
Americans had crossed the threshold. As a matter of fact, he had seen
fewer than twenty Americans in all that time. He was a vigorous, healthy
young man, and it may well be presumed that the situation bored him.
Small wonder, then, that he kept out of mischief for half a year.
Diplomatic service is one thing and the lack of opportunity is quite
another. Chase did his best to find occupation for his diplomacy, but
what chance had he with nothing ahead of him but regular reports to the
department in which he could only announce that he was in good health
and that no one had "called."

Chase belonged to the diplomatic class which owes its elevation to the
influence of Congress--not to Congress as a body but to one of its
atoms. He was not a politician; no more was he an office seeker. He was
a real soldier of fortune, in search of affairs--in peace or in war, on
land or at sea. Possessed of a small income, sufficiently adequate to
sustain life if he managed to advance it to the purple age (but wholly
incapable of supporting him as a thriftless diplo