SEALED ORDERS
Some hours later on, Sir Roger de Launay, having left his Sovereign’s
presence, and being off duty for a time, betook himself to certain
apartments in the west wing of the palace, where the next most
trusted personage to himself in the confidence of the King, had his
domicile,--Professor von Glauben, resident physician to the Royal
Household. Heinrich von Glauben was a man of somewhat extraordinary
character and individuality. In his youth he had made a sudden meteoric
fame for his marvellous skill and success in surgery, as also for his
equally surprising quickness and correctness in diagnosing obscure
diseases and tracing them to their source. But, after creating a vast
amount of discussion and opposition among his confrères, and almost
reaching that brilliant point of triumph when his originality and
cleverness were proved great enough to win him a host of enemies, he
all at once threw up the game as it were, and, resigning the favourable
opportunities of increasing distinction offered him in his native
Germany, accepted the comparatively retired and private position he now
occupied. Some said it was a disappointment in love which had caused his
abrupt departure from the Fatherland,--others declared it was irritation
at the severe manner in which his surgical successes had been handled
by the medical critics,--but whatever the cause, it soon became evident
that he had turned his back on the country of his birth for ever, and
that he was apparently entirely satisfied with the lot he had chosen.
His post was certainly an easy and pleasant one,--the members of the
Royal family to which his services were attached were exceptionally
healthy, as Royal families go; and he was seldom in more than merely
formal attendance, so that he had ample time and opportunity to pursue
those deeper forms of physiological study which had excited the wrath
and ridicule of his contemporaries, as well as to continue the writing
of a book which he intended should make a stir in the world, and which
he had entitled “The Moral and Political History of Hunger.”
“For,” said he--“Hunger is the primal civilizer,--the very keystone and
foundation of all progress. From the plain, prosy, earthy fact that man
is a hungry animal, and must eat, has sprung all the civilization of
the world! I shall demonstrate this in my book, beginning with the
scriptural legend of Adam’s greed for an apple. Adam was evidently
hungry at the moment Eve tempted him. As soon as he had satisfied his
inner man, he thought of his outer,--and his next idea was, naturally,
tailoring. From this simple conjunction of suggestions, combined with
what ‘God’ would have to say to him concerning his food-experiment and
fig-leaf apron, man has drawn all his religions, manners, customs and
morals. The proposition is self-evident,--but I intend to point it out
with somewhat emphasised clearness for the benefit of those persons
who are inclined to arrogate to themselves the possession of superior
wisdom. Neither brain nor soul has placed man in a position of
Supremacy,--merely Hunger and Nakedness!”
The Professor was now about fifty-five, but his exceptionally powerful
build and robust constitution gave him the grace in appearance of many
years younger, though perhaps the extreme composure of his temperament,
and the philosophic manner in which he viewed all circumstances, whether
pleasing or disastrous, may have exercised the greatest influence in
keeping his eyes clear and clean, and his countenance free of unhandsome
wrinkles. He was more like a soldier than a doctor, and was proud of his
resemblance to the earlier portraits of Bismarck. To see him in his
own particular ‘sanctum’ surrounded by weird-looking diagrams of
sundry parts of the human frame, mysterious phials and stoppered flasks
containing various liquids and crystals, and all the modern appliances
for closely examining the fearful yet beautiful secrets of the living
organism, was as if one should look upon a rough and burly giant engaged
in some delicate manipulation of mosaics. Yet Von Glauben’s large hand
was gentler than a woman’s in its touch and gift of healing,--no surgeon
alive could probe a wound more tenderly, or with less pain to the
sufferer,--and the skill of that large hand was accompanied by the
penetrative quality of the large benevolent brain which guided it,--a
brain that could encompass the whole circle of the world in its
observant and affectionate compassion.
“Ach!--who is there that can be angry with anyone?--impatient with
anyone,--offended with anyone!” he was wont to say--“Everybody suffers
so much and so undeservedly, that as far as my short life goes I have
only time for pity--not condemnation!”
To this individual, as a kind of human calmative and tonic combined,
Sir Roger de Launay was in the habit of going whenever he felt his
own customary tranquillity at all disturbed. The two were great
friends;--friends in their mutual love and service of the King,--friends
in their equally mutual but discreetly silent worship of the Queen,--and
friends in their very differences of opinion on men and matters in
general. De Launay, being younger, was more hasty of judgment and quick
in action; but Von Glauben too had been known to draw his sword with
unexpected rapidity on occasion, to the discomfiture of those who
deemed him only at home with the scalpel. Just now, however, he was in a
particularly non-combative and philosophic mood; he was watching certain
animalculae wriggling in a glass tube, the while he sat in a large
easy-chair with slippered feet resting on another chair opposite,
puffing clouds of smoke from a big meerschaum,--and he did not stir from
his indolent attitude when De Launay entered, but merely looked up and
smiled placidly.
“Sit down, Roger!” he said,--then, as De Launay obeyed the invitation,
he pushed over a box of cigars, and added--“You look exceedingly tired,
my friend! Something has bored you more than usual? Take a lesson from
those interesting creatures!” and he pointed with the stem of his pipe
to the bottled animalculae--“They are never bored,--never weary of doing
mischief! They are just now living under the pleasing delusion that the
glass tube they are in is a man, and that they are eating him up alive.
Little devils! Nothing will exhaust their vitality till they have gorged
themselves to death! Just like a great many human beings!”
“I am not in the mood for studying animalculae,” said De Launay
irritably, as he lit a cigar.
“No? But why not? They are really quite as interesting as ourselves!”
“Look here, Von Glauben, I want you to be serious--”
“My friend, I am always serious,” declared the Professor--“Even when I
laugh, I laugh seriously. My laughter is as real as myself.”
“What would you think,”--pursued De Launay--“of a king who freely
expressed his own opinions?”
“I should say he was a brave man,” answered the Professor; “He would
certainly deserve my respect, and he should have it. Even if the laws
of etiquette were not existent, I should feel justified in taking off my
hat to him.”
“Never from henceforth wear a hat at all then,” said De Launay--“It will
save you the trouble of continually doffing it at every glimpse of his
Majesty!”
Von Glauben drew his pipe from his mouth and gazed blankly at the
ceiling for a few moments in silence. “His Majesty?” he presently
murmured--“Our Majesty?”
“Yes; our Majesty--our King”--replied De Launay--“For some inscrutable
reason or other he has suddenly adopted the dangerous policy of speaking
his mind. What now?”
“What now? Why nothing particular just now,--unless you have something
to tell me. Which, judging from your entangled expression of eye, I
presume you have.”
De Launay hesitated a moment. The Professor saw his hesitation.
“Do not speak, my friend, if you think you are committing a breach of
confidence,” he said composedly--“In the brief affairs of this life, it
is better to keep trouble on your own mind than impart it to others.”
“Oh, there is no breach of confidence;” said De Launay, “The thing is as
public as the day, or if it is not public already, it soon will be
made so. That is where the mischief comes in,--or so I think. Judge for
yourself!” And in a few words he gave the gist of the interview which
had taken place between the King and the emissary of the Jesuits that
morning.
“Nothing surprises me as a rule,”--said the Professor, when he had heard
all--“But if anything could prick the sense of astonishment anew in
me, it would be to think that anyone, king or commoner, should take
the trouble to speak truth to a Jesuit. Why, the very essence of their
carefully composed and diplomatic creed, is to so disguise truth that it
shall be no more recognisable. Myself, I believe the Jesuits to be the
lineal descendants of those priests who served Bel and the Dragon. The
art of conjuring and deception is in their very blood. It is for the
Jesuits that I have invented a beautiful new verb,--‘To hypocrise.’ It
sounds well. Here is the present tense,--‘I hypocrise, Thou hypocrisest,
He hypocrises:--We hypocrise, You hypocrise, They hypocrise.’ Now
hear the future. ‘I shall hypocrise, Thou shalt hypocrise, He shall
hypocrise; We shall hypocrise, You shall hypocrise, They shall
hypocrise.’ There is the whole art of Jesuitry for you, made
grammatically perfect!”
De Launay gave a gesture of impatience, and flung away the end of his
half-smoked cigar.
“Ach! That is a sign of temper, Roger!” said Von Glauben, shaking his
head--“To lift one’s shoulders to the lobes of one’s ears, and waste
nearly the half of an exceedingly expensive and choice Havana, shows
nervous irritation! You are angry, my friend--and with me!”
“No I am not,” replied De Launay, rising from his chair and beginning
to pace the room--“But I do not profess to have your phlegmatic
disposition. I feel what I thought you would feel also,--that the King
is exposing himself to unnecessary danger. And I know what you do not
yet know, but what this letter will no doubt inform you,”--and he drew
an envelope bearing the Royal seal from his pocket and handed it to the
Professor--“Namely,--that his Majesty is bent on rushing voluntarily
into various other perils, unless perhaps, your warning or advice may
hinder him. Mine has no effect,--moreover I am bound to serve him as he
bids.”
“Equally am I also bound to serve him;”--said Von Glauben, “And gladly
and faithfully do I intend to perform my service wherever it may lead
me!” Whereupon, shaking himself out of his recumbent position, like a
great lion rolling out of his lair, he stood upright, and breaking the
seal of the envelope he held, read its contents through in silence. Sir
Roger stood opposite to him, watching his face in vain for any sign of
astonishment, regret or dismay.
“We must do as he commands,”--he said simply as he finished reading the
letter and folded it up for safe keeping--“There is no other way; not
for me at least. I shall most assuredly be at the appointed place, at
the appointed hour, and in the appointed manner. It will be a change;
certainly lively, and possibly beneficial!”
“But the King’s life--”
“Is in God’s keeping!” said Von Glauben,--“Believe me, Roger, no harm
comes undeservedly to a brave man with a good conscience! It is a bad
conscience which invites mischief. I am a great believer in the law of
attraction. The good attracts the good,--the bad, the bad. That is why
truthful persons are generally lonely--because nearly all the world’s
inhabitants are liars!”
“But the King--” again began Sir Roger.
“The King is a man!” said Von Glauben, with a flash of pride in his
eyes--“Which is more than I will say for most kings! Who shall blame
him for asserting his manhood? Not I! Not you! Who shall blame him for
seeking to know the real position of things in the country he governs?
Not I! Not you! Our business is to guard and defend him--with our own
lives, if necessary,--we shall do that with a will, Roger, shall we
not?” And with an impulsive quickness of action, he took a sword from
a stand of weapons near him, drew it from its scabbard and kissing the
hilt, held it out to De Launay who did the same--“That is understood!
And for the rest, Roger my friend, take it all lightly and easily--as a
farce!--as a bit of human comedy, with a great actor cast for the chief
role. We are only supers, you and I, but we shall do well to stand near
the wings in case of fire!”
He drew himself up to his great height and squared his shoulders,--then
smiled benevolently.
“I believe it will be all very amusing, Roger; and that your fears for
the safety of his Majesty will be proved groundless. Remember, Court
life is excessively dull,--truly the dullest form of existence on
earth,--it is quite natural that he who is the most bored by it should
desire some break in the terrible monotony!”
“The monotony will certainly be broken with a vengeance, if the King
continues in his present humour!”--said De Launay grimly.
“Possibly! And let us hope the comfortable self-assurance and
complacency of a certain successful Minister may be somewhat seriously
disturbed!” rejoined Von Glauben,--“For myself, I assure you I see
sport!”
“And I scent danger,”--said De Launay--“For if any mischance happen to
the King, the Prince is not ripe enough to rule.”
A slight shadow darkened the Professor’s open countenance. He looked
fixedly at Sir Roger, who met his gaze with equal fixity.
“The Prince,”--he said slowly--“is young--”
“And rash--” interposed De Launay.
“No. Pardon me, my friend! Not rash. Merely honest. That is all! He is
a very honest young man indeed. It is unfortunate that he is so; a
ploughman may be honest if he likes, but a prince--never!”
De Launay was silent.
“I will now destroy a world”--continued Von Glauben, “Kings,
emperors, popes, councillors and common folk, can all perish
incontinently,--as--being myself for the present the free agent of the
Deity concerned in the matter,--I have something else to do than to look
after them,”--and he took up the glass vessel containing the animalculae
he had been watching, and cast it with its contents into a small stove
burning dimly at one end of the apartment,--“Gone are their ambitions
and confabulations for ever! How easy for the Creator to do the same
thing with us, Roger! Let us not talk of any special danger for the
King or for any man, seeing that we are all on the edge of an eternal
volcano!”
De Launay stood absorbed for a moment, as if in deep thought. Then
rousing himself abruptly he said:--
“You will not see the King, and speak with him before to-morrow night?”
“Why should I?” queried the Professor. “His wish is a command which I
must obey. Besides, my good Roger, all the arguments in the world will
not turn a man from having his own way if he has once made up his own
mind. Advice from me on the present matter would be merely taken as an
impertinence. Moreover I have no advice to give,--I rather approve of
the plan!”
Sir Roger looked at him; and noting the humorous twinkle in his eyes
smiled, though somewhat gravely.
“I hope, with you, that the experiment may only prove an amusing one,”
he said--“But life is not always a farce!”
“Not always, but often! When it is not a farce it is a tragedy. And such
a tragedy! My God! Horrible--monstrous--cruel beyond conception, and
enough to make one believe in Hell and doubt Heaven!”
He spoke passionately, in a voice vibrating with strong emotion. De
Launay glanced at him wonderingly, but did not speak.
“When you see tender young children tortured by disease,” he
went on,--“Fair and gentle women made the victims of outrage and
brutality--strong men killed in their thousands to gain a little
additional gold, an extra slice of empire,--then you see the tragic,
the inexplicable, the crazy cruelty of putting into us this little pulse
called Life. But I try not to think of this--it is no use thinking!”
He paused,--then in his usual quiet tone said:
“To-morrow night, then, my friend?”
“To-morrow night,” rejoined De Launay,--“Unless you receive further
instructions from the King.”
At that moment the clear call of a trumpet echoing across the
battlements of the palace denoted the hour for changing the sentry.
“Sunset already!” said Von Glauben, walking to the window and throwing
back the heavy curtain which partially shaded it, “And yonder is Prince
Humphry’s yacht on its homeward way.”
De Launay came and stood beside him, looking out. Before them the sea
glistened with a thousand tints of lustrous opal in the light of the
sinking sun, which, surrounded by mountainous heights of orange and
purple cloud, began to touch the water-line with a thousand arrowy darts
of flame. The white-sailed vessel on which their eyes were fixed, came
curtseying over the waves through a perfect arch of splendid colour,
like a fairy or phantom ship evoked from a poet’s dream.
“Absent all day, as he has been,” said De Launay, “his Royal Highness is
punctual to the promised hour of his return.”
“He is, as I told you, honest;” said Von Glauben, “and it is possible
his honesty will be his misfortune.”
De Launay muttered something inaudible in answer, and turned to leave
the apartment.
Von Glauben looked at him with an affectionate solicitude.
“What a lucky thing it is you never married, Roger! Otherwise you would
now be going to tell your wife all about the King’s plans! Then she,
sweet creature, would go to confession,--and her confessor would tell a
bishop,--and a bishop would tell a cardinal,--and a cardinal would tell
a confidential monsignor,--and the confidential monsignor would tell the
Supreme Pontiff,--and so all the world would be ringing with the news
started by one little pretty wagging tongue of a woman!”
A faint flush coloured De Launay’s bronzed cheek, but he laughed.
“True! I am glad I have never married. I am still more glad--of
circumstances”--he paused,--then went on, “which have so chanced to me
that I shall never marry.” He paused again--then added--“I must be gone,
Von Glauben! I have to meet Prince Humphry at the quay with a message
from his Majesty.”
“Surely,” said the Professor, opening his eyes very wide, “The Prince is
not to be included in our adventure?”
“By no means!” replied De Launay,--“But the King is not pleased with his
son’s frequent absences from Court, and desires to speak with him on the
matter.”
Von Glauben looked grave.
“There will be some little trouble there,” he said, with a half
sigh--“Ach! Who knows! Perhaps some great trouble!”
“Heaven forbid!” ejaculated Sir Roger,--“We live in times of peace. We
want no dissension with either the King or the people. Till to-morrow
night then?”
“Till to-morrow night!” responded Von Glauben, whereupon Sir Roger with
a brief word of farewell, strode away.
Left to himself, the Professor still stood at his window watching the
approach of the Prince’s yacht, which came towards the shore with such
swift and stately motion through the portals of the sunset, over the
sparkling water.
“Unfortunate Humphry!” he muttered,--“What a secret he has entrusted me
with! And yet why do I call him unfortunate? There should be nothing to
regret--and yet--! Well! The mischief was done before poor Heinrich
von Glauben was consulted; and if poor Heinrich were God and the Devil
rolled into one strange Eternal Monster, he could not have prevented it!
What is done, can never be undone!”