"That's all right," said Gorman, "when you're dealing with business men. But there are other men, men who aren't out for money, who want----"
"There are lunatics," he said, "but lunatics don't run the world. They get shut up. Most men aren't lunatics, and you'll find that the pacifist idea works out. It's the everlasting principle of all commerce."
It is impossible to say whether Donovan's pacifist principles would have been of any use in Europe in 1914. They were not tried, and he admitted that they would not work with lunatics. But the everlasting principle of all commerce proved its value in the case of the Megalian admiral. He did not even bargain at any length. Smith returned in rather less than half an hour, with the news that the admiral had accepted £26 10s. He made only one stipulation. It may have been a desire to preserve his self-respect or a determination to observe his orders in the letter which made him insist on firing one shot before he left Salissa.
"He won't aim at the palace, sir," said Smith.
"There'd be a better chance of his missing it, if he did," said Donovan. "It makes me nervous to see men like those sailors playing about with guns."
"Yes, sir. That's so, sir. But in this case I don't think you need have any anxiety. The shot will go right over the palace. I laid the gun myself before I left the ship. I don't know if I mentioned it to you, sir, but I was in the artillery when I held a commission in the Megalian Army."
The admiral fired his shot at noon precisely. The shell soared high above the palace, passed over the cliff behind and dropped harmlessly somewhere in the sea.
The Queen and Kalliope stood behind the flagstaff from which the blue banner of Salissa flew. At the sound of the shot, while the shell's shriek was still in her ears, the Queen gave her order. Kalliope, hauling hand over hand on the halyard, ran up the Stars and Stripes. It flew out on the breeze. The Queen, flushed with pride and patriotism, defied the might of the Megalian navy.
The admiral weighed his anchor, fussily, with much shouting and swearing, and steamed slowly out of the harbour. As he went he dipped his ensign, saluting the Queen's flags.
Konrad Karl, standing at the window of Madame Ypsilante's room, saved that lady from hysterics by announcing that the bombardment was over.