The Island Mystery Part 6

"Vineyards," said Mr. Phillips, who had voyaged much about the Cyrenian Sea.

On the north side of the bay, opposite the cottages, a promontory ran out into the water. On it, sometimes on its very edge, sometimes drawn a little back with a s.p.a.ce of smooth rocks in front of it, was the house built by King Otto, Konrad Karl's unfortunate predecessor on the Megalian throne. Perhaps that king himself had a taste for the fantastic. Perhaps he was only a commonplace man who had the luck to employ an architect of airy genius. The house was the palace of a dream of fairyland. It was built of the white stone of the island.

Long windows opened on balconies supported on white pillars which stood in the water. There were little glistening spires which rose from steep patches of red roof. There were broad shaded porches and flights of shallow white steps which led down into the water. The ground plan of the house followed the outline of the promontory on which it stood. Only in the upper storey did the eye find rest in a straight line. There nine great windows, green jalousied, gave upon a wide balcony. At one place where the rock had been eaten into by the sea, the architect had built over water which sighed and gurgled among mysterious green shades under vaulted roofs among the foundations of the house.

Miss Daisy, standing on the bridge, clapped her hands and then stood silent and motionless in an ecstasy of delight. Mr. Phillips, his eyes on the girl, rang the ship's engines to "Dead Slow" and sent a man to summon Captain Wilson.

The steamer slid slowly through the water towards the opening at the south end of the protecting reef. Captain Wilson came on deck. Mr.

Donovan followed him. He stood leaning over the bulwarks just forward of the bridge. Miss Daisy ran to him and seized his arm.

"Father," she cried, "isn't it all lovely? Isn't it just a dream? Look at the two cottages. Look at the cliffs and the blue water. Did you ever see such blue----? and now----"

The ship swung slowly round the south end of the reef. The house on the promontory came full in view.

"And now look at the castle. It's too fairy for anything, isn't it?"

"Reminds me quite a bit," said Donovan, "of the hotel at the south end of the Marine Parade at Atlantic City. Kind of fanciful."

"It's a dream come true," said Miss Daisy.

Mr. Donovan turned round. Behind him, in a respectful att.i.tude, stood the major domo. A little further back, grouped together, were his ten fellow-servants, all in respectful att.i.tudes.

"Beg pardon, sir," said the major domo.

The man, though engaged by Miss Daisy, had from the first refused to recognize her as his mistress. The negotiations in Southampton about the cabin had been carried on with Mr. Donovan. It was to Mr. Donovan that he spoke now.

"Beg pardon, sir," he said, "but does the family propose to reside here for any length of time?"

Mr. Donovan waved his hand towards Miss Daisy. She realized that, as queen of the island, it was her business to decide the movements of the court.

"Always," she said. "For ever and ever and ever. I shall never live anywhere else, and when I die I'll be buried here."

"In that case, sir," said the major domo, still ignoring the queen, "I must request, in the name of self and the rest of the staff, to return to England at once, sir, and if I may add a suggestion, sir, I'd say by rail. This ship is not what we've been accustomed to in places where we've lived before."

"Well," said Mr. Donovan, "you can go back if you like. Salissa is a free state, though not a republic; but there's liable to be some delay if you wait for a train."

"You nasty beasts!" said Miss Daisy. "You've spoiled the whole thing now by being cats. Just when everything was beautiful and I was so happy. I'd like to tell you what I think of you all. Oh, I do wish Mr.

Phillips was here. He'd----Oh, father, would you? I'm sure you could."

Mr. Donovan looked at her and waited. In time, such was his experience, Miss Daisy usually explained what she wanted pretty clearly.

"I once heard Mr. Phillips talking to one of the sailors," she said.

"He didn't know I was listening, of course. The sailor had been messing things about in a wrong way, and Mr. Phillips----"

"Language?" said Mr. Donovan.

"It was splendid. I never knew before that there were such words."

"Well," said Mr. Donovan, "I haven't cursed any for quite a bit; but I'm willing to try. But you'd better run up the bridge, Daisy, right now, before I start. I might be kind of held back from some expressions if I knew you were listening."

Miss Daisy, who was sometimes quite an obedient girl, reached the bridge in time to hear the order given, and to see the anchor splash into the blue water.

Mr. Donovan began to speak slowly and very quietly. It took the women servants nearly two minutes to realize that he was using the most atrocious language. Then they fled. The three footmen stood their ground a little longer. Mr. Donovan raised his voice a little. He felt old powers returning to him. He became fluent. One by one the footmen slank away. Mr. Donovan went on, without pa.s.sion or heat. He arrived at a terrific malediction which he had found effective many years before in dealing with Italian navvies. The major domo cowered, his hands held to his ears, and vanished into the cabin.

Mr. Donovan took from his pocket a large purple handkerchief. He wiped away the sweat which had gathered on his upper lip. Then he looked round him with an air of satisfaction. There was no one left near him except Smith, the ship's steward, who stood in a respectful att.i.tude apparently waiting for an opportunity to speak.

"I don't know," said Mr. Donovan, "that I can do any more real high-cla.s.s cursing, without preparation; but if you're not satisfied I'm willing to try."

"I was only going to suggest, sir," said Smith, "that if it would be any convenience to you, sir, and to her Majesty----" Mr. Donovan started. It was the first time Miss Daisy had been given her new t.i.tle.

"I'd be very glad, sir, to remain with you and do all I can, sir, to make you comfortable--subject to Captain Wilson's permission. Of course you'll understand, sir, that I signed on as ship's steward. I couldn't leave my duty, sir, if Captain Wilson required me."

"Smith," said Mr. Donovan, "you're a white man. I'll square things up with Captain Wilson. He can have the use of that sausage skin of a butler on the voyage home. I hope he'll just set those able-bodied wasters of footmen to shovel coal in the stokehole. I shan't say a word if he corrects the women with a rope's end every time they're seasick. I'm a humanitarian, Smith, opposed to executions and corporal punishment on principle, in a general way; but I'm not a hide-bound doctrinnaire. There are circ.u.mstances--I kind of feel that the British domestic servant is one of these circ.u.mstances."

"Yes, sir," said Smith. "Quite so, sir."

CHAPTER VII

History says little about them, but there doubtless have been queens who lacked dignity, queens with high spirits and little sense of decorum, queens who outraged pompous chamberlains and brought shame into the lives of stately chancellors. The behaviour of the new queen of Salissa caused no scandal; but that was only because there was no one in her small court who had any sense of the dignity proper to queens. The major domo's feelings would certainly have been outraged if he watched Queen Daisy make her first royal progress. But he was shut up in his cabin. The other servants might have quivered with shame and disgust if they had seen--but they saw nothing, having turned away their eyes from beholding vanity.

After the cable had ceased rattling through the hawse hole Miss Daisy demanded a boat. Scarcely waiting for Captain Wilson's word, Mr.

Phillips rushed to lower one. Lashings were cast loose, the boat was swung outboard and manned with a speed which would have done credit to a smart yacht's crew. Miss Daisy ran to her cabin. The oarsmen sat ready to push off. Mr. Phillips stood in the stern sheets, the tiller between his feet. Miss Daisy appeared at the top of the accommodation ladder. She held a large parcel in her hand.

"Catch," she said to Mr. Phillips, "it's the flag."

She flung it. Mr. Phillips with a wild grab saved it from the sea.

Miss Daisy laughed joyously.

"Catch again," she said, "the palace keys."

A bunch of keys crashed on the floor boards of the boat between the feet of the man who rowed stroke. Mr. Phillips picked them up. Miss Daisy, disdaining a helping hand held out by Smith, skipped down the steps; her skirt held tight in one hand she leaped into the boat.

"Quickly," she cried, "oh, quickly, quickly! Please don't be long."

"Shove off," said Mr. Phillips, "and pull like--pull like----"

"Say it," said Miss Daisy, "say it, if it will make them go quicker."

"Pull," said Mr. Phillips, "pull like--billy-o."

The men pulled. Not even the expected invocation of b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l would have stirred them to greater exertions. The boat sprang forward. She sped towards the palace. The water bubbled round her bows, swished and foamed in the wake astern of her. Mr. Phillips brought her up alongside a broad flight of white steps. The men clawed at the smooth stone with their fingers. The Queen stepped ash.o.r.e.

She stood on the lowest step, a figure poised for swift eager motion, a flushed excited girl, a queen with palpitating heart and eyes full of dancing merriment. The steps, blazing white in the sunshine, led up to a broad platform where a tall flagstaff stood. Behind was all the fantastic wonder of the palace, the porticoes, slender carved columns, stone lacework of flying b.u.t.tresses, spires, hollowed s.p.a.ces of dark shade, points of sparkling light, broad surfaces of dazzling whiteness. Mr. Phillips leaped ash.o.r.e and pa.s.sed the Queen, bounding up the steps to the platform. He carried in his hand the parcel which she had flung into the boat. He reached the flagstaff. He knotted a light line round his waist. He swarmed up the bare pole. He rove the line through the block at the top of the staff and slid to earth again. He bent the halyard to the flag. It ran up, a neat ball. With a sharp chuck at the line Mr. Phillips broke it out. The Royal Standard of Salissa fluttered in the morning breeze, pale blue, glorious.

Mr. Phillips shouted: