The Viceroy possessed no
name--nothing but a string of counties and two-thirds of the alphabet after
them. He said, in confidence, that he was the electro-plated figurehead of a
golden administration, and he watched in a dreamy, amused way Wonder's
attempts to draw matters which were entirely outside his province into his own
hands. "When we are all cherubims together," said His Excellency once, "my
dear, good friend Wonder will head the conspiracy for plucking out Gabriel's
tail-feathers or stealing Peter's keys. THEN I shall report him."
But, though the Viceroy did nothing to check Wonder's officiousness, other
people said unpleasant things. Maybe the Members of Council began it; but,
finally, all Simla agreed that there was "too much Wonder, and too little
Viceroy," in that regime. Wonder was always quoting "His Excellency." It was
"His Excellency this," "His Excellency that," "In the opinion of His
Excellency," and so on. The Viceroy smiled; but he did not heed.
He said that, so long as his old men squabbled with his "dear, good Wonder,"
they might be induced to leave the "Immemorial East" in peace.
"No wise man has a policy," said the Viceroy. "A Policy is the blackmail
levied on the Fool by the Unforeseen.
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