Temporal Power: A Study in Supremacy Part 49

"Well! Humphry has something of me in him after all!" he said. "He is not entirely his mother! He has a heart,--a will, and a conscience,--all three generally lacking to sons of kings! Let me be honest with myself!

If he had given way to me, I should have despised him!--'but for Love's sake he has opposed me; and by my soul!--I respect him!"

CHAPTER XXIII

THE KING'S DEFENDER

Rumour, we are told, has a million tongues, and they were soon all at work, wagging out the news of the Crown Prince's mysterious departure.

Each tongue told a different story, and none of the stories tallied.

No information was to be obtained at Court. There nothing was said, but that the Prince, disliking the formal ceremony of a public departure, had privately set sail in his own yacht for his projected tour round the world. n.o.body believed this; and the general impression soon gained ground that the young man had fallen into disgrace with his Royal parents, and had been sent away for a time till he should recognize the enormity of his youthful indiscretions.

"Sent away--you understand!" said the society gossips; "To avoid further scandal!"

The Prince's younger brothers, Rupert and Cyprian, were often plied with questions by their intimates, but knowing nothing, and truly caring less, they could give no explanation. Neither King nor Queen spoke a word on the subject; and Sir Roger de Launay, astonished and perplexed beyond measure as he was at this turn in affairs, dared not put any questions even to his friend Professor von Glauben who, as soon as the news of the Prince's departure was known, resolutely declined to speak, so he said, "on what did not concern him." Gradually, however, this excitement partially subsided to give place to other forms of social commotion, which beginning in trifles, swiftly expanded to larger and more serious development. The first of these was the sudden rise of a newspaper which had for many years subsisted with the greatest difficulty in opposition to the many journals governed by David Jost. It happened in this manner.

Several leading articles written in favour of a Jesuit settlement in the country, had appeared constantly in Jost's largest and most widely circulated newspaper, and the last of these 'leaders,' had concluded with the a.s.sertion that though his Majesty, the King, had at first refused the portion of Crown-lands needed by the Society for building, he had now 'graciously' re-considered the situation, and had been pleased to revoke his previous decision. Whereat, the very next morning the rival 'daily' had leaped into prominence by merely two headlines:

THE JESUIT SETTLEMENT STATEMENT BY HIS MAJESTY THE KING.

And there, plainly set forth, was the Royal and authoritative refusal to grant the lands required, 'Because of the earnest pet.i.tion of our loving subjects against the said grant,'--and till 'our loving subjects''

objections were removed, the lands would be withheld. This public announcement signed by the King in person, created the most extraordinary sensation throughout the whole country. It was the one topic at every social meeting; it was the one subject of every sermon.

Preachers stormed and harangued in every pulpit, and Monsignor Del Fortis, lifting up his harsh raucous voice in the Cathedral itself, addressed an enormous congregation one Sunday morning on the matter, and denounced the King, the Queen, and the mysteriously-departed Crown Prince in the most orthodox Christian manner, commending them to the flames of h.e.l.l, and the mercy of a loving G.o.d at one and the same moment.

Meanwhile, the newspaper that had been permitted to publish the King's statement got its circulation up by tens of thousands, the more so as certain brilliant and fiery articles on the political situation began to appear therein signed by one Pasquin Leroy, a stranger to the reading public, but in whom the spirit of a modern 'Junius' appeared to have entered for the purpose of warning, threatening and commanding. A scathing and audacious attack upon Carl Perousse, Secretary of State, in which the small darts of satire flew further than the sharpest arrows of a.s.sertion, was among the first of these, and Perousse himself, maddened like a bull at the first p.r.i.c.k of the toreador, by the stinging truths the writer uttered, or rather suggested, lost no time in summoning General Bernhoff to a second interview.

"Did I not tell you," he said, pointing to the signature at the end of the offending article, "to 'shadow' that man, and arrest him as a common spy?"

Bernhoff bowed stiffly.

"You did! But it is difficult to arrest one who is not capable of being arrested. I must be provided first with proofs of his guilt; and I must also obtain the King's order."

"Proofs should be easy enough for you to obtain," said Perousse fiercely; "And the King will sign any warrant he is told. At least, you can surely find this rascal out?--where he lives, and what are his means of subsistence?"

"If he were here, I could," responded Bernhoff calmly; "I have made all the necessary preliminary enquiries. The man is a gentleman of considerable wealth. He writes for his own amus.e.m.e.nt, and--from a distance. I advise you--" and here the General held up an obstinate-looking finger of warning; "I advise you, I say, to let him alone! I can find no proof whatever that he is a spy."

"Proof! I can give you enough--" began Perousse hotly, then paused in confusion. For what could he truly say? If he told the Chief of Police that this Pasquin Leroy was believed to have counterfeited the Prime Minister's signet, in order to obtain an interview with David Jost, why then the Chief of Police would be informed once and for all that the Prime Minister was in confidential communication with the Jew-proprietor of a stock-jobbing newspaper! And that would never do! It would, at the least, be impolitic. Inwardly chafing with annoyance, he a.s.sumed an outward air of conscientious gravity.

"You will regret it, General, I think, if you do not follow out my suggestions respecting this man," he said coldly; "He is writing for the press in a strain which is plainly directed against the Government. Of course we statesmen pay little or no heed to modern journalism, but the King, having taken the unusual, and as I consider it, unwise step of proclaiming certain of his intentions in a newspaper which was, until his patronage, obscure and unsuccessful, the public attention has been suddenly turned towards this particular journal; and what is written therein may possibly influence the ma.s.ses as it would not have done a few weeks ago."

"I quite believe that!" said Bernhoff tersely; "But I cannot arrest a man for writing clever things. Literary talent is no proof of dishonesty."

Perousse looked at him sharply. But there was no satire in Bernhoff's fixed and gla.s.sy eye, and no expression whatever in his woodenly-composed countenance.

"We entertain different opinions on the matter, it is evident!" he said; "You will at least grant that if he cannot be arrested, he can be carefully watched?"

"He _is_ carefully watched!" replied Bernhoff; "That is to say, as far as _I_ can watch him!"

"Good!" and Perousse smiled, somewhat relieved. "Then on the first suspicion of a treasonable act----"

"I shall arrest him--in the King's name, when the King signs the warrant," said Bernhoff; "But he is one of Sergius Thord's followers, and at the present juncture it might be unwise to touch any member of that particularly inflammable body."

Perousse frowned.

"Sergius Thord ought to have been hanged or shot years ago----"

"Then why did not you hang or shoot him?" enquired Bernhoff.

"I was not in office."

"Why do you not hang or shoot him now?"

"Why? Because----"

"Because," interrupted Bernhoff, again lifting his grim warning finger; "If you did, the city would be in a tumult and more than half the soldiery would be on the side of the mob! By way of warning, M.

Perousse, I may as well tell you frankly, on the authority of my position as Head of the Police, that the Government are on the edge of a dangerous situation!"

Perousse looked contemptuous.

"Every Government in the world is on the edge of a dangerous situation nowadays!" he retorted;--"But any Government that yields to the mob proves itself a mere ministry of cowardice."

"Yet the mob often wins,--not only by excess of numbers, but by sheer force of--honesty!"--said Bernhoff sententiously; "It has been known to sweep away, and re-make political const.i.tutions before now."

"It has,"--agreed Perousse, drawing pens and paper towards him, and feigning to be busily occupied in the commencement of a letter--"But it will not indulge itself in such amus.e.m.e.nts during _my_ time!"

"Ah! I wonder how long your time will last!" muttered Bernhoff to himself as he withdrew--"Six months or six days? I would not bet on the longer period!"

In good truth there was considerable reason for the General's dubious outlook on affairs. A political storm was brewing. A heavy tidal wave of discontent was sweeping the ma.s.ses of the people stormily against the rocks of existing authority, and loud and bitter and incessant were the complaints on all sides against the increased taxation levied upon every rate-payer. Fiercest of all was the clamour made by the poor at the increasing price of bread, the chief necessity of life; for the imposition of a heavy duty upon wheat and other cereals had made the common loaf of the peasant's daily fare almost an article of luxury.

Stormy meetings were held in every quarter of the city,--protests were drawn up and signed by thousands,--endless pet.i.tions were handed to the King,--but no practical result came from these. His Majesty was 'graciously pleased' to seem blind, deaf and wholly indifferent to the agitated condition of his subjects. Now and then a Government orator would mount the political rostrum and talk 'patriotism' for an hour or so, to a more or less sullen audience, informing them with much high-flown eloquence that, by responding to the Governmental demands and supporting the Governmental measures, they were strengthening the resources of the country and completing the efficiency of both Army and Navy; but somehow, his hydraulic efforts at rousing the popular enthusiasm failed of effect. Whereas, whenever Sergius Thord spoke, thousands of throats roared acclamation,--and the very sight of Lotys pa.s.sing quietly down the poorer thoroughfares of the city was sufficient to bring out groups of men and women to their doors, waving their hands to her, sending her wild kisses,--and almost kneeling before her in an ecstasy of trust and adoration. Thord himself perceived that the situation was rapidly reaching a climax, and quietly prepared himself to meet and cope with it. Two of the monthly business meetings of the Revolutionary Committee had been held since that on which Pasquin Leroy and his two friends had been enrolled as members of the Brotherhood, and at the last of these, Thord took Leroy into his full confidence, and gave him all the secret clues of the Revolutionary organization which honeycombed the metropolis from end to end. He had trusted the man in many ways and found him honest. One trifling proof of this was perhaps the main reason of Thord's further reliance upon him; he had fulfilled his half-suggested promise to bring the sunshine of prosperity into the hard-working, and more or less sordid life of the little dancing-girl, Pequita. She had been sent for one morning by the manager of the Royal Opera, who having seen the ease, grace, and dexterity of her performance, forthwith engaged her for the entire season at a salary which when named to the amazed child, seemed like a veritable shower of gold tumbling by rare chance out of the lap of Dame Fortune. The manager was a curt, cold business man, and she was afraid to ask him any questions, for when the words--"I am sure a kind friend has spoken to you of me--" came timidly from her lips, he had shut up her confidence at once by the brief answer--

"No. You are mistaken. We accept no personal recommendations. We only employ proved talent!"

All the same Pequita felt sure that she owed the sudden lifting of her own and her father's daily burden of life, to the unforgetting care and intercession of Leroy. Lotys was equally convinced of the same, and both she and Sergius Thord highly appreciated their new a.s.sociate's un.o.btrusive way of doing good, as it were, by stealth. Pequita's exquisite grace and agility had made her at once the fashion; the Opera was crowded nightly to see the 'wonderful child-dancer'; and valuable gifts and costly jewels were showered upon her, all of which she brought to Lotys, who advised her how to dispose of them best, and put by the money for the comfort and care of her father in the event of sickness, or the advance of age. Flattered and petted by the great world as she now was, Pequita never lost her head in the whirl of gay splendour, but remained the same child-like, loving little creature,--her one idol her father,--her only confidante, Lotys, whose gentle admonitions and constant watchfulness saved her from many a dangerous pitfall. As yet, she had not attained the wish she had expressed, to dance before the King,--but she was told that at any time his Majesty might visit the Opera, and that steps would be taken to induce him to do so for the special purpose of witnessing her performance. So with this half promise she was fain to be content, and to bear with the laughing taunts of her 'Revolutionary' friends, who constantly teased her and called her 'little traitor' because she sought the Royal favour.

Another event, which was correctly or incorrectly traced to Leroy's silently working influence, was the sudden meteoric blaze of Paul Zouche into fame. How it happened, no one knew;--and _why_ it happened was still more of a mystery, because by all its own tenets and traditions the social world ought to have set itself dead against the 'Psalm of Revolution,'--the t.i.tle of the book of poems which created such an amazing stir. But somehow, it got whispered about that the King had attempted to 'patronise' the poet, and that the poet had very indignantly resented the offered Royal condescension. Whereat, by degrees, there arose in society circles a murmur of wonder at the poet's 'pluck,' wonder that deepened into admiration, with incessant demand for his book,--and admiration soon expanded, with the aid of the book, into a complete "craze." Zouche's name was on every lip; invitations to great houses reached him every week;--his poems began to sell by thousands; yet with all this, the obstinacy of his erratic nature a.s.serted itself as usual, undiminished, and Zouche withdrew from the shower of praise like a snail into its sh.e.l.l,--answered none of the flattering requests for 'the pleasure of his company,' and handed whatever money he made by his poems over to the funds of the Revolutionary Committee, only accepting as much out of it as would pay for his clothes, food, lodging, and--drink! But the more he turned his back on Fame, the more hotly it pursued him;--his very churlishness was talked about as something remarkable and admirable,--and when it was suggested that he was fonder of strong liquor than was altogether seemly, people smiled and nodded at each other pleasantly, tapped their foreheads meaningly and murmured: 'Genius! Genius!' as though that were a quality allied of divine necessity to alcoholism.

These two things,--the advent of a new dancer at the Opera, and the fame of Paul Zouche, were the chief topics of 'Society' outside its own tawdry personal concern; but under all the light froth and spume of the pleasure-seeking, pleasure-loving whirl of fashion, a fierce tempest was rising, and the first whistlings of the wind of revolt were already beginning to pierce through the keyholes and crannies of the stately building allotted to the business of Government;--so much so indeed that one terrible night, all unexpectedly, a huge mob, some twenty thousand strong, surrounded it, armed with every conceivable weapon from muskets to pickaxes, and shouted with horrid din for 'Bread and Justice!'--these being considered co-equal in the bewildered mind of the excited mult.i.tude. Likewise did they scream with protrusive energy: 'Give us back our lost Trades!' being fully aware, despite their delirium, that these said 'lost Trades' were being sold off into 'Trusts,' wherein Ministers themselves held considerable shares, A two-sided clamour was also made for 'The King! The King!' one side appealing, the other menacing,--the latter under the belief that his Majesty equally had 'shares' in the bartered Trades,--the former in the hope that the country's Honour might still be saved with the help of their visible Head.

Much difficulty was experienced in clearing this surging throng of indignant humanity, for though the soldiery were called out to effect the work, they were more than half-hearted in their business, having considerable grievances of their own to avenge,--and when ordered to fire on the people, flatly refused to do so. Two persons however succeeded at last in calming and quelling the tumult. One was Sergius Thord,--the other Lotys. Carl Perousse, seized with an access of 'nerves' within the cushioned luxury of his own private room in the recesses of the Government buildings, from whence he had watched the demonstration, peered from one of the windows, and saw one half of the huge mob melt swiftly away under the command of a tall, majestic-looking creature, whose ma.s.sive form and leonine head appeared Ajax-like above the throng; and he watched the other half turn round in brisk order, like a well-drilled army, and march off, singing loudly and l.u.s.tily, headed by a woman carried shoulder-high before them, whose white robes gleamed like a flag of truce in the glare of the torches blazing around her;--and to his utter amazement, fear and disgust, he heard the very soldiers shouting her name: "Lotys! Lotys!" with ever-increasing and thunderous plaudits of admiration and homage. Often and often had he heard that name,--often and often had he dismissed it from his thoughts with light masculine contempt. Often, too, had it come to the ears of his colleague the Premier, who as has been shown, even in intimate converse with his own private secretary, feigned complete ignorance of it. But it is well understood that politicians generally, and diplomatists always, a.s.sume to have no knowledge whatever concerning those persons of whom they are most afraid. Yet just now it was unpleasantly possible that "the stone which the builders rejected" might indirectly be the means of crushing the Ministry, and reorganizing the affairs of the country. His meditations on this occasion were interrupted by a touch on the shoulder from behind, and, looking up, he saw the Marquis de Lutera.

"Almost a riot!" he said, forcing a pale smile,--"But not quite!"

"Say, rather, almost a revolution!" retorted the Marquis brusquely;--"Jesting is out of place. We are on the brink of a very serious disaster! The people are roused. To-night they threatened to burn down these buildings over our heads,--to sack and destroy the King's Palace. The Socialist leader, Thord, alone saved the situation."

"With the aid of his mistress?" suggested Perousse with a sneer.