Temporal Power: A Study in Supremacy Part 50

"You mean the woman they call Lotys? I am not aware that she is his mistress. I should rather doubt it. The people would not make such a saint of her if she were. At any rate, whatever else she may be, she is certainly dangerous;--and in a country less free than ours would be placed under arrest. I must confess I never believed in her 'vogue' with the ma.s.ses, until to-night."

Perousse was silent. The great square in front of the Government buildings was now deserted,--save for the police and soldiery on guard; but away in the distance could still be heard faint echoes of singing and cheering from the broken-up sections of the crowd that had lately disturbed the peace.

"Have you seen the King lately?" enquired Lutera presently.

"No."

"By his absolute 'veto' against our propositions at the last Cabinet Council, the impending war which would have been so useful to us, has been quashed in embryo," went on the Premier with a frown;--"This of course you know! And he has the right to exercise his veto if he likes.

But I scarcely expected you after all you said, to take the matter so easily!"

Perousse smiled, and shrugged his shoulders deprecatingly.

"However," continued the Marquis with latent contempt in his tone;--"I now quite understand your complacent att.i.tude! You have simply turned your 'Army Supplies Contract' into a 'Trust' Combine with other nations,--so you will not lose, but rather gain by the transaction!"

"I never intended to lose!" said Perousse calmly; "I am not troubled with scruples. One form of trade is as good as another. The prime object of life nowadays is to make money!"

Lutera looked at him, but said nothing.

"To amalgamate all the steel industries into one international Union, and get as many shares myself in the combine is not at all an unwise project," went on Perousse,--"For if our country is not to fight, other countries will;--and they will require guns and swords and all such accoutrements of war. Why should we not satisfy the demand and pocket the cash?"

Still the Marquis looked at him steadily.

"Are you aware,"--he asked at last, "that Jost, to save his 'press'

prestige, has turned informer against you?"

Perousse sprang up, white with fury.

"By Heaven, if he has dared!--"

"There is no 'if' in the case"--said Lutera very coldly--"He has, as he himself says, 'done his duty.' You must be pretty well cognisant of what a Jew's notions of 'duty' are! They can be summed up in one sentence;--'to save his own pocket.' Jost is driven to fury and desperation by the sudden success of the rival newspaper, which has been so prominently favoured by the King. The shares in his own journalistic concerns are going down rapidly, and he is determined--naturally enough--to take care of himself before anyone else. He has sold out of every company with which you have been, or are a.s.sociated--and has--so I understand,--sent a complete list of your proposed financial 'deals,'

investments and other 'stock' to--"

He paused.

"Well!" exclaimed Perousse irascibly--"To whom?"

"To those whom it may concern,"--replied Lutera evasively--"I really can give you no exact information. I have said enough by way of warning!"

Perousse looked at him heedfully, and what he saw in that dark brooding face was not of a quieting or satisfactory nature.

"You are as deeply involved as I am--" he began.

"Pardon!" and the Marquis drew himself up with some dignity--"I _was_ involved;--I am not now. I have also taken care of myself! I may have been misled, but I shall let no one suffer for my errors. I have sent in my resignation."

"Fool!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Perousse, forgetting all courtesy in the sudden access of rage that took possession of him at these words;--"Fool, I say! At the very moment when you ought to stick to the ship, you desert it!"

"Are _you_ not ready to run to the helm?" enquired Lutera with a satiric smile; "Surely you can have no doubt but that his Majesty will command you to take office!"

With this, he turned on his heel, and left his colleague to a s.p.a.ce of very disagreeable meditation. For the first time in his bold and unscrupulous career, Perousse found himself in an awkward position.

If it were indeed true that Jost and Lutera had thrown up the game, especially Jost, then he, Perousse, was lost. He had made of Jost, not only a tool, but a confidant. He had used him, and his great leading newspaper for his own political and financial purposes. He had entrusted him with State secrets, in order to speculate thereon in all the money-markets of the world. He had induced him to approach the Premier with crafty promises of support, and to inveigle him by insidious degrees into the same dishonourable financial 'deal.' So that if this one man,--this fat, unscrupulous turncoat of a Jew,--chose to speak out, he, Carl Perousse, Secretary of State, would be the most disgraced and ruined Minister that ever attempted to defraud a nation! His brows grew moist with fever-heat, and his tongue parched, with the dry thirst of fear, as the gravity of the situation was gradually borne in upon him.

He began to calculate contingencies and possibilities of escape from the toils that seemed closing around him,--and much to his irritation and embarra.s.sment, he found that most of the ways leading out of difficulty pointed first of all to,--the King.

The King! The very personage whom he had called a Dummy, only bound to do as he was told! And now, if he could only persuade the King that he,--the poor Secretary of State,--was a deeply-injured man, whose life's effort had been solely directed towards 'the good of the country,' yet who nevertheless was cruelly wronged and calumniated by his enemies, all might yet be well.

"Were he only like other monarchs whom I know," he reflected. "I could have easily involved him in the Trades deal! Then the press could have been silenced, and the public fooled. With five or six hundred thousand shares in the biggest concerns, he would have been compelled to work under me for the amalgamation of our Trades with the financial forces of other countries, regardless of the rubbish talked by 'patriots' on the loss of our position and prestige. But he is not fond of money,--he is not fond of money! Would that he were!--for so _I_ should be virtually king of the King!"

Cogitating various problems on his return to his own house that evening, he remembered that despite numerous protests and pet.i.tions, the King had, up to the present, paid no attention to the appeals of his people against the increasing inroads of taxation. The only two measures he had carried with a high and imperative hand, were first,--the 'vetoing' of an intended declaration of war,--and the refusal of extensive lands to the Jesuits. The first was the more important action, as, while it had won the grat.i.tude and friendship of a previously hostile State, it had lost several 'n.o.ble' gamblers in the griefs of nations, some millions of money. The check to the Jesuits was comparatively trivial, yet it had already produced far-reaching effects, and had offended the powers at the Vatican. But, beyond this, things remained apparently as they were; true, the Socialists were growing stronger;--but there was no evidence that the Government was growing weaker.

"After all," thought Perousse, as a result of his meditations; "there is no immediate cause for anxiety. If Lutera has sent in his resignation, it may not be accepted. That rests--like other things--with the King." And a vague surprise affected him at this fact. "Curious!" he muttered,--"Very curious that he, who was a Nothing, should now be a Something! The change has taken place very rapidly,--and very strangely!

I wonder what--or who--is moving him?"

But to this inward query he received no satisfactory reply. The mysterious upshot of the whole position was the same,--namely, that somehow, in the most unaccountable, inexplicable manner, the wind and weather of affairs had so veered round, that the security of Ministers and the stability of Government rested, not with themselves or the nature of their quarrels and discussions, but solely on one whom they were accustomed to consider as a mere ornamental figure-head,--the King.

Some few days after the unexpected turbulent rising of the mob, it was judged advisable to give the people something in the way of a 'gala,'

or spectacle, in order to distract their attention from their own grievances, and to draw them away from their Socialistic clubs and conventions, to the contemplation of a parade of Royal state and splendour. The careful student of History cannot fail to note that whenever the rottenness and inadequacy of a Government are most apparent, great 'shows' and Royal ceremonials are always resorted to, in order to divert the minds of the people from the bitter consideration of a deficient Exchequer and a diminishing National Honour. The authorities who organize these State masquerades are wise in their generation. They know that the working-cla.s.ses very seldom have the leisure to think for themselves, and that they often lack the intelligent ability to foresee the difficulties and dangers menacing their country's welfare;--but that they are always ready, with the strangest fatuity, patience, and good-nature, to take their wives and families to see any new variation of a world's 'Punch and Judy' play, particularly if there is a savour of Royalty about it, accompanied by a bra.s.s band, well-equipped soldiers, and gilded coaches. Though they take no part in the pageant, beyond consenting to be hustled and rudely driven back by the police like intrusive sheep, out of the sacred way of a Royal progress, they nevertheless have an instinctive (and very correct) idea that somehow or other it is all part of the 'fun' for which they have paid their money.

There is no more actual reverence or respect for the positive Person of Royalty in such a parade, than there is for the Wonderful Performing Pig who takes part in a circus-procession through a country town. The public impression is simple,--That having to pay for the up-keep of a Throne, its splendours should be occasionally 'trotted out' to see whether they are worth the nation's annual expenditure.

Moved entirely by this plain and practical sentiment, the popular breast was thrilled with some amount of interest and animation when it was announced that his Majesty the King would, on a certain afternoon, go in state to lay the foundation-stone of the Grand National Theatre, which was the very latest pet project of various cogitating Jews and cautious millionaires. The Grand National Theatre was intended to 'supply,'

according to a stock newspaper phrase, 'a long-felt want.' It was to be a 'philanthropic' scheme, by which the 'Philanthropists' would receive excellent interest for their money. Ostensibly, it was to provide the 'ma.s.ses' with the highest form of dramatic entertainment at the lowest cost;--but there were many intricate wheels within wheels in the elaborate piece of stock-jobbing mechanism, by which the public would be caught and fooled--as usual--and the speculators therein rendered triumphant. Sufficient funds were at hand to start the building of the necessary edifice, and the King's 'gracious' consent to lay the first stone, with full state and ceremony, was hailed by the promoters of the plan as of the happiest augury. For with such approval and support openly given, all the Sn.o.b-world would follow the Royal 'lead'--quite as infallibly as it did in the case of another monarch who, persuaded to drink of a certain mineral spring, and likewise to 'take shares' in its bottled waters, turned the said spring into a 'paying concern' at once, thereby causing much rejoicing among the Semites. The 'mob' might certainly decline to imitate the Sn.o.b-world,--but, considering the recent riotous outbreak, it might be as well that the overbold and unwashen populace should be awed by the panoply and glory of earthly Majesty pa.s.sing by in earthly splendour.

Alas, poor Sn.o.b-world! How often has it thought the same thing! How often has it fancied that with show and glitter and brazen ostentation of mere purse-power, it can quell the rage for Justice, which, like a spark of G.o.d's own eternal Being, burns for ever in the soul of a People! Ah, that rage for Justice!--that divine fury and fever which with strong sweating and delirium shakes the body politic and cleanses it from acc.u.mulated sickly humours and pestilence! What would the nations be without its periodical and merciful visitations! Tearing down old hypocrisies,--rooting up weedy abuses,--rending asunder rotten conventions,--what wonder if thrones and sceptres, and even the heads of kings get sometimes mixed into the general swift clearance of long-acc.u.mulated dirt and disorder! And vainly at such times does the Sn.o.b-world anxiously proffer golden pieces for the price of its life!

There shall not then be millions enough in all the earth, to purchase the safety of one proved Liar who has wilfully robbed his neighbour!

No hint of the underworkings of the people's thought, or the movement of the times was, however, apparent in the aspect of the gay mult.i.tudes that poured along the princ.i.p.al thoroughfares of the metropolis on the day appointed for the ceremony in which the King had consented to take the leading part. Poor and rich together, vied with one another to secure the various best points of view from whence the Royal pageant could be seen, winding down in glittering length from the Palace and Citadel, past the Cathedral, and so on to the great open square, where, surrounded by fluttering flags and streamers, a huge block of stone hung suspended by ropes from a crane, ready to be lowered at the Royal touch, and fixed in its place by the Royal trowel, as the visible and solid beginning of the stately fabric, which, according to pictorial models was to rise from this, its first foundation, into a temple of art and architecture, devoted to Melpomene and Thalia.

It was a glorious day,--the sun shone with vigorous heat and l.u.s.tre from a cloudless sky,--the sea was calm as an inland pool--and people wore their lightest, brightest and most festive attire. Fair "society" dames, clad in the last capricious mode of ever-changing Fashion, and shading their delicate, and not always natural, complexions with airy parasols, filmy and finely-coloured as the petals of flowers, queened it over the flocking crowds of pedestrians, as they were driven past in their softly-cushioned carriages drawn by high-stepping horses;--all the boudoirs and drawing-rooms of the most exclusive houses seemed to have emptied their luxury-loving occupants into the streets,--and the whole town was, for a few hours at any rate, apparently given over to holiday.

As the long line of soldiery preceding the King's carriage, wound down from the Citadel, groups of people cheered, and waved hats and handkerchiefs,--then, when his Majesty's own escort came into view, the cheering was redoubled,--and at last when the c.u.mbrous, over-gilded, over-painted "Cinderella" State-coach appeared, and the familiar, but somewhat sternly-composed features of the King himself were perceived through the gla.s.s windows, a roar of acclamation, like the thundering of a long wave on an extensive stretch of rock-bound coast, echoed far and near, and again and again was repeated with increased and ever-increasing clamour. Who,--hearing such an enthusiastic greeting--would or could have imagined for one moment that the King, who was the object and centre of these tremendous plaudits, was at the same time judged as an enemy and an obstruction to justice by more than one half of the population! Yet it was so,--and so has often been. The populace will shout itself hoa.r.s.e for any cause; whether it be a king going to be crowned, or a king going to be executed, the stimulus is the same, and the enthusiasm as pa.s.sionate. It is merely the contagious hysteria of a moment that tickles their lungs to expansion in noise;--but the real sentiment of admiration for a fine character which might perhaps have moved the subjects of Richard Coeur de Lion to cries of exultation, is generally non-existent. And why? For no cause truly!--save that Lion-Hearts in kings no more pulsate through nations.

By the time the Royal procession reached its destination the crowd had largely increased, and the press of people round the scene of the forthcoming function was great enough to be seriously embarra.s.sing to both the soldiery and the police. Slowly the gorgeous State-coach lumbered up to the entrance of the ground railed off for the ceremony,--and between a line of armed guards, the King alighted.

Vociferous cheering again broke out on all sides, which his Majesty acknowledged in the usual formal manner by a monotonous military salute performed at regular intervals. Received with obsequious deference by all the persons concerned in the Grand National Theatre project, he conversed with one or two, shook hands with others, and was just on the point of addressing a few of his usual suave compliments to some pretty women who had been invited to adorn the scene, when David Jost advanced smilingly, evidently sure of a friendly recognition. For had not the King, when Crown Prince and Heir-Apparent, hunted game in his preserves?--yea, had he not even dined with him?--and had not he, Jost, written whole columns of vapid twaddle about the 'Royal smile' and the 'Royal favour' till the outside public had sickened at every stroke of his flunkey pen? How came it, then, that his Majesty seemed on this occasion to have no recollection of him, and looked over and beyond him in the airiest way, as though he were a far-off Jew in Jerusalem, instead of being the a.s.sumptive-Orthodox proprietor of several European newspapers published for the general misinformation and plunder of gullible Christians? Dismayed at the Royal coldness of eye, Jost stepped back with an uncomfortably crimson face; and one of the ladies present, personally knowing him, and seeing his discomfiture, ventured to call the King's attention to his presence and to make way for his approach, by murmuring gently, "Mr. Jost, Sir!"

"Ah, indeed!" said the monarch, with calm grey eyes still fixed on vacancy,--"I do not know anyone of that name! Permit me to admire that exquisite arrangement of flowers!" and, smiling affably on the astonished and embarra.s.sed lady, he led her aside, altogether away from Jost's vicinity.

Stricken to the very dust of abas.e.m.e.nt by this direct "cut" so publicly administered, the crestfallen editor and proprietor of many journals stood aghast for a moment,--then as various unbidden thoughts began to chase one another through his bewildered head, he was seized with a violent trembling. He remembered every foolish, imprudent and disloyal remark he had made to the stranger named Pasquin Leroy who had called upon him bearing the Premier's signet,--and reflecting that this very Pasquin Leroy was now, by some odd chance, a contributor of political leaders and other articles to the rival daily newspaper which had published the King's official refusal of a grant of land to the Jesuits, he writhed inwardly with impotent fury. For might not this unknown man, Leroy,--if he were,--as he possibly was,--a friend of the King's--go to the full length of declaring all he knew and all he had learned from Jost's own lips, concerning certain 'financial secrets,' which if fully disclosed, would utterly dismember the Government and put the nation itself in peril? Might he not already even have informed the King? With his little, swine-like eyes retreating under the crinkling fat of his lowering brows, Jost, hot and cold by turns, wandered confusedly out of the 'exclusive' set of persons connected with the 'Grand National Theatre' scheme, who were now gathered round the suspended foundation-stone to which the King was approaching. He pretended not to see the curious eyes that stared at him, or the sneering mouths that smiled at the open slight he had received. Pushing his way through the crowd, he jostled against the thin black-garmented figure of a priest,--no other than Monsignor Del Fortis, who, with an affable word of recognition, drew aside to allow him pa.s.sage. Affecting his usual 'company-manner' of tolerant good-nature, he forced himself to speak to this 'holy' man, who, at any rate, had paid him good money in round sums for so-called 'articles' or rather puff-advertis.e.m.e.nts in his paper concerning Church matters.

"Good-day, Monsignor!" he said--"You are not often seen at a Royal pageant! How comes it that you, of all persons in the world have brought yourself to witness the laying of the foundation-stone of a Theatre?

Does not your calling forbid any patronage of the mimic Art?"

The priest's thin lips parted, showing a glimmer of wolfish teeth behind the pale stretched line of flesh.

"Not by any means!" he replied suavely--"In the present levelling and amalgamation of social interests, the Church and Stage are drawing very closely together."

"True!" said Jost, with a grin--"One might very well be taken for the other!"

Del Fortis looked at him meditatively.

"This," he said, waving his lean hand towards the centre of the brilliant crowd where now the King stood, "is a kind of drama in its way. And you, Mr. Jost, have just played one little scene in it!"

Jost reddened, and bit his lip.