The Island Mystery Part 31

"I'm not a narrow-minded man," he said, "and I hope I'm not the victim of prejudice; but I'm afraid----"

King Konrad Karl waved his hand. Then he stood up, swallowed half a gla.s.s of brandy and laid down his cigar.

"I am Konrad Karl of Megalia," he said. "I am a black sheep, very black. I am a blackguard. You say it, Donovan. You say it, Gorman, my friend."

"I didn't," said Gorman.

"Cut that part," said Donovan. "n.o.body wants to start in abusing you."

"I am," said the King with an air of simple pride, "I am a blackguard, the blackest guard of all. Good. But I am a King and I am a gentleman.

Good. I know that poor Corinne must go. She cannot stay here. That is what you would say, and you are right. I know it. There are _les convenances_. There is the charming Miss Donovan."

"That's it," said Donovan. "If it were simply a matter of Gorman and me----I don't like saying these things--but----"

"But you are right," said the King. "Right as nails. Corinne must go.

But I go with her. To-morrow we depart, she and I. We take a boat. I row with oars. We fly. The navy of Megalia pursues. It overtakes.

Good. We die. Perhaps the navy mistakes. It pursues by another route, a way we have not gone. Good. We live. Either way you shut us. No. We shut you. No. I have it. We are shut of us."

"That's rather a hopeless programme," said Gorman. "I don't suppose you can row much."

"I cannot row at all," said the King.

"The navy is a pretty rotten-looking tub," said Gorman. "But it can hardly help catching you. You won't even be out of sight before it has steam up."

The King sat down, looking very miserable. He made no pretence of liking the prospect before him.

"And Corinne," he murmured, "will be sick, as a dog is sick. She is sick always at sea."

Gorman and Donovan felt sorry for him. Donovan was particularly irritated at the situation in which he found himself.

"If it wasn't for my daughter----" he said. "But, d.a.m.n it all, what can I do?"

"I wonder," said Gorman, "if it would be possible to--well, shall we say regularize the situation?"

He looked inquiringly at Donovan and then at the King. Donovan grasped the idea first.

"That's it," he said. "Look here," he turned to the King. "Why the h.e.l.l don't you marry her at once? Then everything would be all right."

"Marry her!" said the King. "But that----Oh, d.a.m.n! Oh Great Scott!

That is impossible. You do not understand."

"It's the right thing to do," said Donovan, "besides being the only possible way out of the hole we are in. And I don't see the impossibility. If you're holding back on account of any mediaeval European notions about monarchs being a different kind of flesh and blood from other people----"

"It is not that," said the King.

"If it is," said Donovan, "you may just go off in a boat and be drowned. I shan't pity you."

"But it is not that." The King jumped about with excitement. "I am a king, it is true. But I am a man of liberated soul. I say 'Kings, what are kings?' Democracy is the card to play, the trump. I play it now and always. I have no prejudices. But when you say to me: 'There is no impossibility, marry Corinne,' I reply: 'You do not understand. There is one thing more to reckon with.' Donovan, you have forgotten----"

"I haven't forgotten," said Gorman. "I never get a chance of forgetting. It's the Emperor, as usual."

"You have shot the bull in his eye," said the King. "Donovan, it is that. Gorman knows. There is the Emperor. Therefore I cannot marry Corinne."

"I'd see that Emperor a long way," said Donovan, "before I'd allow him to dictate to me."

"Ah," said the King, "but you do not understand the Emperor."

"I don't believe any one does," said Gorman.

"Well," said Donovan, "I do _not_ understand your Emperor. I own up to that. But you think over my suggestion, and you'll find, Emperor or no Emperor, there isn't any genuine obstacle."

CHAPTER XXII

King Konrad Karl slept badly that night. Donovan's plan seemed to him quite hopeless. He went to bed fully persuaded that he and his beloved Corinne would have to embark next day and make a considerable voyage in an open boat. I do not blame him for being disturbed at the prospect. I am fond of boats myself and can enjoy a ten-tonner very well; but nothing would induce me to go to sea with Madame Ypsilante in anything less comfortable than a well-equipped steam yacht of 1,000 tons. Besides there was the pursuit of the Megalian navy to be considered.

The King was not the only person who missed his proper sleep. Gorman lay awake for two hours. He was tormented by the feeling that it was barbarous to turn Konrad Karl and Madame Ypsilante adrift in a boat.

Donovan was more fortunate. He slept untroubled by any worry about his guests. It seemed to him the simplest thing in the world that the King should marry Madame next day. Stephanos should perform the ceremony.

Stephanos officiated at all the islanders' marriages.

There was, as it turned out, neither a flight nor a wedding next day.

Madame Ypsilante developed a feverish chill. She was plainly quite unfit for a boat voyage and in no condition to be married. The Queen and Kalliope took up the work of nursing her with enthusiasm. The Queen would not listen to a word Gorman said to her. Her view was that Madame Ypsilante was the heroine of a splendid romance, that she had fled to her fiance across land and sea, braving awful dangers, enduring incredible hardships for dear love's sake. She felt that she would have done the same thing herself if Phillips, by any trick of fate, had been marooned on a South Pacific island. There was plainly no use trying to hint at delicate proprieties to a girl in such a mood. Gorman, after one or two attempts, gave it up.

He had, indeed, quite early in the day, other things to attend to. At about ten o'clock there were signs of great activity on board the Megalian navy. The crew--there appeared to be about fifteen men altogether--was paraded on deck and addressed from the bridge by the admiral. The speech must have been an exciting and important one, for the admiral gesticulated violently. When he stopped, the crew cheered.

Gorman watched the proceedings. He was interested--as an expert--in the effects of oratory.

When the cheering was over, the admiral gave two or three orders. The crew immediately began to run about the deck in a confused and tumultuous manner. After a while they settled down to the work of getting the covers off the steamer's two guns. Some sh.e.l.ls--Gorman supposed they must be sh.e.l.ls--were carried on deck. The guns were swung round and pointed at the palace. Then they were loaded. A solemn business, very carefully carried out under the immediate eye of the admiral.

King Konrad Karl came running to Gorman. He was in a state of considerable excitement.

"That admiral," he said, "has it in mind to stone the palace. He has stones for those guns. I know it."

"If it was a matter of stones," said Gorman, "but they look to me more like sh.e.l.ls."

"Sh.e.l.ls, stones, it is the same. He will batter, destroy, slay.

Gorman, my friend, it must not be."

"Why the devil does he want to do it?" said Gorman. "Now don't say _Real Politik_ or the Emperor. I simply can't believe that either one or the other would set that pirate shooting at us."

"It is _Real Politik_, without doubt," said the King. "And it is the Emperor. But it is also me, me, Konrad Karl of Megalia. I am--what is it you say in English?--I am wanted. And I go. I offer myself. I become a ewe lamb of sacrifice. I say good-bye. I leave Corinne. I go.

Then the admiral will not stone the palace."

"Don't start for a minute or two yet," said Gorman. "The pirate is sending a boat ash.o.r.e. We may as well hear what he has to say."

It was the admiral himself who landed. He was in full dress. His uniform was almost entirely covered with gold braid. Gold cords with ta.s.sels at their ends hung in festoons across his chest and down his back. He carried a large sword in a highly gilt sheath. On his head was a c.o.c.ked hat with a tall pink feather in it, perhaps a plume from the tail of the Megalian vulture.