"As I have informed your Majesty," the doctor courteously replied, "the negotiations are not yet concluded. We hope, however, in about two months" time...."
"It is intolerable!" interrupted the King. "Three weeks have already pa.s.sed, and now...."
He stopped short on the entry of a lackey who handed him a letter bearing an English postmark.
"That," exclaimed the doctor, "I can recognize from afar as the hand of our friend the old Poet."
Norman tore open the letter, and the lackey having retired, read aloud as follows:--
"DEAR SIR,--
"I hope I am not taking too strange a liberty in writing to you a somewhat personal letter, presuming on a single meeting and a short acquaintance. My only claim upon your attention is that I recommended to you a plan of action which you, subsequently to my advice but of course independently of it, did in the end follow. I would not for a minute presume, sir, to imagine that you were in any way influenced by the random words of one whom you must have taken for a most ridiculous old dotard. It is, indeed, in order to dispel the bad impression I must have made on you by my eccentric dress and appearance that I am writing to you now. May I a.s.sure you that these follies were entirely due to some cerebral affection, overpowering indeed, but quite temporary, and probably induced by the extreme heat of the sun? You will remember it was a very hot summer"s day when I entered your establishment to purchase some tobacco. May I even go further, and a.s.sure you that, apart from these sudden outbreaks and disturbances, I have led a most regular life, was for several years in a city office, and was once mayor of my borough; that I am not addicted to any criminal practices; and that I am, at home, a thoroughly respected and respectful member of civihzed society? But, as I say, I was in a state of mind totally foreign to my saner and better self that afternoon of last summer; and owing, I believe, to the cause above suggested, the unusual, almost volcanic, heat of the day--I had been seeing visions and dreaming dreams after reading Adlington"s _Apuleius,_ a book of which I am extremely fond. The sight of an _Apuleius_ between the hands--pardon my bluntness!--of a provision dealer in a small and remote village upset my nerves, and I talked to you, I fear, with an absurd arrogance and an offensive flattery, for which I sincerely apologize.
"I write now, partly, because I am so old that I dare not wait--and, indeed, I think that when you read this letter you may read it as the veritable "Song of a man that was dead": partly because I feel that a second mental storm is arising within my worn and useless mind, and that I shall not be responsible for what I may shortly do. Finally, permit me to express a hope that you are prospering in the very high social position which you have won--a position in which I am sure your st.u.r.dy common sense will stand you in good stead, and that you are keeping in the best possible health.
"With sincere apologies for troubling you, I remain, "Your devoted and obedient servant, "LAURENCE HOPKINSON."
They had no time to comment on this weird letter. As Norman uttered the words "Laurence Hopkinson" it seemed to him that he had started a spell by the very mention of the ungainly name. A hum and murmur came through the open windows: there was a clatter as if the town was waking from its age-long sleep. The inexplicable noise rose louder and louder till it could be distinguished as a roar of men, and the trampling and shouting of a wrathful mult.i.tude.
They listened first in wonder, then in alarm, silent. At last Norman cried, "Can you hear what they are shouting?"
"They are crying "The King! The King!"" observed Sforelli.
"It is not a demonstration in my honour," said Norman, grimly. "Will you come with me and see?"
They crossed the palace courtyard together. Norman remarked with pleasure that the guard were already at the gates.
"There is no danger," said Sforelli, calmly. "All the guards are true as steel. The castle is defended by cannon. The guards know their work well, and we can depend on them to the last breath."
"_Viva la rego. Viva nia rego. Viva la rego vera_!" thundered the populace. "_Viva...._" but the iron gates clanged to, and the sound was cut off sharp and the murmur sounded once more dim and far.
A second after, the old Captain of the Palace Guard appeared, a fine white-whiskered old gentleman soldier. He deferentially insisted on leading them into a room above the gateway, whence the crowd could be viewed in all safety. The Captain of the Guard provided them with seats and bowed. "I have to apologize," he said, "for not having come to your side at once, but I thought my first duty was to secure the defences. I can a.s.sure your Majesty that there is no danger: and at a word from you we can clear the square."
"Let us give them a chance first," said the King. "I wonder if I could talk to them and find out exactly what they want!"
"They will believe no voice but that of the cannon," said the Captain, gravely, "and the sooner that voice talks the better. There is unfortunately no doubt as to what they want. Look out of this loophole and look at that litter in the centre of the square. They have got Andrea with them, and they mean to reinstate him."
"Well, if we are found out, we are found out," said Norman, with a merry laugh.
"Men that are fools enough to support a cause like theirs," exclaimed Sforelli, "men who prefer to be ruled by a legitimate madman rather than by a true natural King deserve a triple death. Sir, will you not order the Captain to fire?"
"I am in no hurry to shoot down those poor idealists," objected Norman.
"For them truth is more important than prosperity: and there is a great deal to be said for their point of view. And you, Captain," he added, turning to the old guardsman at his side, "do you not sympathize in your heart with those tumultuous voices on the square? Are you willing to fire on your fellow-citizens for the sake of a foreign usurper?"
The old Captain drew himself up and saluted. "My King," he said, stiffly. "I hold your life in trust from Princess Ianthe. In fighting for you we fight for her and for her we would blow the whole rabble of Alsander to the moon and ourselves after them. It is she who has commanded us to obey you, and obey you we shall, like the boys obeyed the Old Man of the Mountains, even if you order us to fling ourselves down man by man from the Western Tower. But let me add, Sir, that I and my company do not think that the Princess, whom G.o.d preserve, could have chosen a finer ruler for Alsander than the man you have shown yourself to be even in these very few days, my lord the King."
"Captain," replied Norman, "I thank you. I entrust the defence of the Castle entirely to your wisdom. I have only this request to make. I beg of you, let the first shots you fire from our cannon be blank, and the first loaded sh.e.l.ls you send pa.s.s high above the heads of the crowd; and do not bring out the murderous quickfirers except at the last necessity.
Alsandrian blood would weigh heavily upon me, Captain, and not less heavily, I think, on our Royal Mistress."
All the while the King was speaking the savage roar never ceased echoing up through the window--"Fling us down the grocer!--a rope for all traitors!--the river for the foreigner!--the stake for the foreigner!"
The Captain took ceremonious leave in order to attend to his artillery.
"I will strictly carry our your Majesty"s recommendations," he promised.
"We will see if the Castle cannot at least make as much noise as the town."
Left to themselves, Norman and Sforelli observed through an old loophole the turbulent scene on the square below. The hideous mob were swarming before the closed gates and inexpugnable walls: some were trying to collect wood in order to set fire to the Castle, while others were attempting to drag into place some prehistoric guns which the conspirators had unearthed Heaven knows where. Others, again, had diverted their attentions to Sforelli"s house, which stood in a corner of the square, and having smashed the windows and burst in the door to a full chorus of Jew-baiting insults, were now proceeding, in order to a.s.suage their disappointment at finding the owner out, to loot each apartment very thoroughly, as could be seen by the phials of acids, books, bottled anatomical specimens and occasional articulated skeletons which came flying out of the upper windows.
"They will be accusing me of ritual murder next!" exclaimed the doctor sorrowfully, as his third and best skeleton came crashing down on the cobbles. "Only I do wish the Captain would hurry up and fire."
At that moment, with tremendous noise and smoke, all the cannons pealed in unison.
"Your blank is being as effective as Napoleon"s "whiff of grape!""
exclaimed Sforelli as soon as the smoke began to roll away. "Look there!"
The crowd were radiating away from the square like a shower of meteors from their centre, seized by a horrible panic. A second harmless broadside of the cannon seemed to have cleared the square completely.
"The square is empty!" cried the King.
"Not quite empty," remarked Sforelli. "What is that over there to the right?"
The King followed the direction of his glance and saw a grisly, battered old sedan chair standing like a dismal island in one corner of the square, beyond the great statue of Kradenda, its tinsel trappings glittering indecently in the sunlight. As he continued to watch it curiously he saw that from the window of this shabby litter a white and twitching face kept bobbing out, a face that wore what could be seen even at that distance to be an irritating expression of mild surprise and general inquiry.
"It is their King," said Sforelli, in deep scorn, looking at the tall and handsome figure beside him, as though he were making a mental comparison.
"This is our time for action," said Norman, glad enough to find a plan for doing something at last. "Our best course will be to go out and bring that poor imbecile into the castle, now that the square is empty, and hold him as a hostage till the leader of this rabble, who I suppose is Vorza, comes in to parley."
And the King, with Sforelli at his heels, rushed down the stairs to the lodge of the gateway where the arms were kept. Having armed himself and his companion with a brace of revolvers, he sent to inform the Captain, and taking with him Sforelli, who refused to leave him, and half-a-dozen men of the Palace Guard, they crossed the square in the direction of the grotesque old sedan chair.
The little company arrived there in a second: not a soul came to oppose them; not a rifle cracked: not a leaf stirred. But when the King was already only a pace or two from the sedan chair, there sprang out suddenly from behind it, like a splendid Amazon, a woman armed. Her hair was loose, her beautiful head poised proudly, her breast half uncovered, her bare right arm swung at her side, and from her right hand gleamed the barrel of a revolver.
Norman sprang back, startled, and hardly recognized the wild apparition.
From within the sedan chair came a dismal moan, "My Queen! my Queen!
they have come to take away my Queen!" and the pale head once more came wandering out of the curtains.
"So," said Norman, "that is your new lover, Peronella?"
The girl shivered with disgust at the accusation, but she answered proudly enough: "That is the King of Alsander, you lying English tradesman, and I am here to guard him. You had better have stayed safe in your palace walls. And you had better never have come to Alsander first to betray its women and then to betray its King. And now we shall see who is stronger, you or I!"
"You are growing eloquent, Peronella," said Norman, coolly, "but I have no time to answer your reproaches. I should only like to remark that it is usual to leave a man to guard legitimate monarchs who are in positions of such exceptional difficulty and danger."
"They ran away!" said Peronella, contemptuously.
"Well, we have come to take your charge into the palace. We will not harm him or you. Lift the chair," said the Bang, commanding his guards and turning to the girl he said, "Will you not come, too? You will be safe till this folly is over."
"Thank you for the invitation," retorted the girl. "I am not a Circa.s.sian slave!"
And raising her revolver quickly she fired it full in his face. Had not one of the guards, who had been watching her narrowly, knocked up her arm and wrested the weapon from her this story had ended some pages sooner.