A FAIR DÉBUTANTE
That same afternoon there was a mysterious commotion at the
Palace,--whispers ran from lip to lip among the few who had seen her,
that a beautiful woman,--lovelier than the Queen herself,--had, under
the escort of the uncommunicative Professor von Glauben, passed into
the presence of the King and Queen, to receive the honour of a private
audience. Who was she? What was she? Where did she come from? How was
she dressed? This last question was answered first, being easiest
to deal with. She was attired all in white,--‘like a picture’ said
some--‘like a statue’ said others. No one, however, dared ask any direct
question concerning her,--her reception, whoever she was, being of a
strictly guarded nature, and peremptory orders having been given to
admit no one to the Queen’s presence-chamber, to which apartment she
had been taken by the King’s physician. But such dazzling beauty as
hers could not go altogether unnoticed by the most casual attendant,
sentinel, or lord-in-waiting, and the very fact that special commands
had been issued to guard all the doors of entrance to the Royal
apartments on either hand, during her visit, only served to pique and
inflame the general curiosity.
Meantime,--while lesser and inferior personages were commenting on the
possibility of the unknown fair one being concerned with some dramatic
incident that might have to be included among the King’s numerous
gallantries,--the unconscious subject of their discussion was quietly
seated alone in an ante-room adjoining the Queen’s apartments, waiting
till Professor von Glauben should announce that their Majesties were
ready to receive her. She was not troubled or anxious, or in any way
ill at ease. She looked curiously upon the splendid evidences of
Royal state, wealth and luxury which surrounded her, with artistic
appreciation but no envy. She caught sight of her own face and figure
in a tall mirror opposite to her, set in a silver frame; and she studied
herself quietly and critically with the calm knowledge that there was
nothing to deplore or to regret in the way God and Nature had been
pleased to make her. She was not in the slightest degree vain,--but
she knew that a healthy and quiet mind in a healthy and unspoilt body,
together form what is understood as the highest beauty,--and that these
two elements were not lacking in her. Moreover, she was conscious of a
great love warming her heart and strengthening her soul,--and with
this great motive-force to brace her nerves and add extra charm to her
natural loveliness, she had no fear. She had enjoyed the swift voyage
across the sparkling sea, and the fresh air had made her eyes doubly
lustrous, her complexion even more than usually fair and brilliant.
She did not permit herself to be rendered unhappy or anxious as to the
possible attitude of the King and Queen towards her,--she was prepared
for all contingencies, and had fully made up her mind what to say.
Therefore, there was no need to fret over the position, or to be
timorously concerned because she was called upon to confront those who
by human law alone were made superior in rank to the rest of mankind.
“In God’s sight all men are equal!” she said to herself: “The King is
a mere helpless babe at birth, dependant on others,--as he is a mere
helpless corpse at death. It is only men’s own foolish ideas and
conventions of usage in life that make any difference!”
At that moment the Professor entered hurriedly, and impulsively seizing
her hands in his own, kissed them and pressed them tenderly. His face
was flushed--he was evidently strongly excited.
“Go in there now, Princess!” he whispered, pointing to the adjacent
room, of which the door stood ajar; “And may God be on your side!”
She rose up, and releasing her hands gently from his nervous grasp,
smiled.
“Do not be afraid!” she said; “You, too, are coming?”
“I follow you!” he replied.
And to himself he said: “Ach, Gott in Himmel! Will she keep her so
beautiful calm? If she will--if she can--a throne would be well lost for
such a woman!”
And he watched her with an admiration amounting almost to fear, as she
passed before him and entered the Royal presence-chamber with a proud
light step, a grace of bearing and a supreme distinction, which, had she
been there on a day of diplomatic receptions, would have made half the
women accustomed to attend Court, look like the merest vulgar plebeians.
The room she entered was very large and lofty. A dazzle of gold ceiling,
painted walls and mirrors flashed upon her eyes, with the hue of silken
curtains and embroidered hangings,--the heavy perfume of hundreds of
flowers in tall crystal vases and wide gilded stands made the air drowsy
and odorous, and for a moment, Gloria, just fresh from the sweet breath
of the sea, felt sickened and giddy,--but she recovered quickly, and
raised her eyes fearlessly to the two motionless figures, which, like
idols set in a temple for worship, waited her approach. The King,
stiffly upright, and arrayed in military uniform, stood near the Queen,
who was seated in a throne-like chair over-canopied with gold,--her
trailing robes were of a pale azure hue bordered with ermine, and
touched here and there with silver, giving out reflexes of light, stolen
as it seemed from the sea and sky,--and her beautiful face, with its
clear-cut features and cold pallor, might have been carved out of ivory,
for all the interest or emotion expressed upon it. Gloria came straight
towards her, then stopped. With her erect supple form, proud head
and fair features, she looked the living embodiment of sovereign
womanhood,--and the Queen, meeting the full starry glance of her eyes,
stirred among her Royal draperies, and raised herself with a slow
graceful air of critical observation, in which there was a touch
of languid wonder mingled with contempt. Still Gloria stood
motionless,--neither abashed nor intimidated,--she made no curtsey or
reverential salutation of any kind, and presently removing her gaze from
the Queen, she turned to the King.
“You sent for me,” she said; “And I have come. What do you want with
me?”
The King smiled. What a dazzling Perfection was here, he thought! A
second Una unarmed, and strong in the courage of innocence! But he was
acting a special part, and he determined to play it well and thoroughly.
So he gave her no reply, but turned with a stiff air to Von Glauben.
“Tell the girl to make her obeisance to the Queen!” he said.
The Professor very reluctantly approached the ‘Glory-of-the-Sea’ with
this suggestion, cautiously whispered. Gloria obeyed at once. Moving
swiftly to the Queen’s chair, she bent low before her.
“Madam!” she said, “I am told to kneel to you, because you are the
Queen,--but it is not for that I do so. I kneel, because you are my
husband’s mother!”
And raising the cold impassive hand covered with great gems, that
rested idly on the rich velvets so near to her touch, she gently kissed
it,--then rose up to her full height again.
“Is it always like this here?” she asked, gazing around her. “Do you
always sit thus in a chair, dressed grandly and quite silent?”
The smile deepened on the King’s face; the Queen, perforce moved at last
from her inertia, half rose with an air of amazement and indignation,
and Von Glauben barely saved himself from laughing outright.
“You,” continued Gloria, fixing her bright glance on the King; “You have
seen me before! You have spoken to me. Then why do you pretend not to
know me now? Is that Court manners? If so, they are not good or kind!”
The King relaxed his formal attitude, and addressed his Consort in a low
tone.
“It is no use dealing with this girl in the conventional way,” he said;
“She is a mere child at heart, simple and uneducated;--we must treat her
as such. Perhaps you will speak to her first?”
“No, Sir, I much prefer that you should do so,” she replied. “When I
have heard her answers to you, it will be perhaps my turn!”
Thereupon the King advanced a step or two, and Gloria regarded him
steadfastly. Meeting the pure light of those lovely eyes, he lost
something of his ordinary self-possession,--he was conscious of a
certain sense of embarrassment and foolishness;--his very uniform,
ablaze with gold and jewelled orders, seemed a clown’s costume compared
with the classic simplicity of Gloria’s homespun garb, which might have
fitly clothed a Greek goddess. Sensible of his nervous irritation, he
however overcame it by an effort, and summoning all his dignity, he
‘graciously,’ as the newspaper parasites put it, extended his hand.
Gloria smiled archly.
“I kissed your hand the other day when you were cross!” she said; “You
would like it kissed again? There!”
And with easy grace of gesture she pressed her lips lightly upon it. It
would have needed something stronger than mere flesh and blood to resist
the natural playfulness and charm of her action, combined with her
unparalleled beauty, and the King, who was daily and hourly proving
for himself the power and intensity of that Spirit of Man which makes
clamour for higher things than Man’s conventionalities, became for the
moment as helplessly overwhelmed and defeated by a woman’s smile,
a woman’s eyes, as any hero of old times, whose conquests have been
reported to us in history as achieved for the sake of love and beauty.
But he was compelled to disguise his thoughts, and to maintain an
outward expression of formality, particularly in the presence of his
Queen-Consort,--and he withdrew the hand that bore her soft kiss upon it
with a well-simulated air of chill tolerance. Then he spoke gravely, in
measured precise accents.
“Gloria Ronsard, we have sent for you in all kindness,” he said; “out of
a sincere wish to remedy any wrong which our son, the Crown Prince has,
in the light folly and hot impulse of his youth, done to you in your
life. We are given to understand that there is a boy-and-girl attachment
between you; that he won your attachment under a disguised identity, and
that you were thus innocently deceived,--and that, in order to satisfy
his own honourable scruples, as well as your sense of maidenly virtue,
he has, still under a disguise, gone through the ceremony of marriage
with you. Therefore, it seems that you now imagine yourself to be his
lawful wife. This is a very natural mistake for a girl to make who is as
young and inexperienced as you are, and I am sorry,--very sorry for the
false position in which my son the Crown Prince has so thoughtlessly
placed you. But, after very earnest consideration, I,--and the Queen
also,--think it much better for you to know the truth at once, so that
you may fully realize the situation, and then, by the exercise of a
little common sense, spare yourself any further delusion and pain. All
we can do to repair the evil, you may rest assured shall be done. But
you must thoroughly understand that the Crown Prince, as heir to the
Throne, cannot marry out of his own station. If he should presume to
do so, through some mad and hot-headed impulse, such a marriage is not
admitted or agreed to by the nation. Thus you will see plainly that,
though you have gone through the marriage ceremony with him, that counts
as nothing in your case,--for, according to the law of the realm, and in
the sight of the world, you are not, and cannot be his wife!”
Gloria raised her deep bright eyes and smiled.
“No?” she said, and then was silent.
The King regarded her with surprise, and a touch of anger. He had
expected tears, passionate declamations, and reiterated assurances of
the unalterable and indissoluble tie between herself and her lover, but
this little indifferently-queried “No?” upset all his calculations.
“Have you nothing to say?” he asked, somewhat sternly.
“What should I say?” she responded, still smiling; “You are the King; it
is for you to speak!”
“She does not understand you, Sir,” interrupted the Queen coldly; “Your
words are possibly too elaborate for her simple comprehension!”
Gloria turned a fearless beautiful glance upon her.
“Pardon me, Madam, but I do understand!” she said; “I understand that by
the law of God I am your son’s wife, and that by the law of the world I
am no wife! I abide by the law of God!”
There was a moment’s dead silence. Professor von Glauben gave a discreet
cough to break it, and the King, reminded of his presence turned towards
him.
“Has she no sense of the position?” he demanded.
“Sir, I have every reason to believe that she grasps it thoroughly!”
replied Von Glauben with a deferential bow.
“Then why----”
But here he was again interrupted by the Queen. She, raising herself in
her chair, her beautiful head and shoulders lifted statue-like from
her enshrining draperies of azure and white, stretched forth a hand and
beckoned Gloria towards her.
“Come here, child!” she said; then as Gloria advanced with evident
reluctance, she added; “Come closer--you must not be afraid of me!”
Gloria smiled.
“Nay, Madam, trouble not yourself at all in that regard! I never was
afraid of anyone!”
A shadow of annoyance darkened the Queen’s fair brows.
“Since you have no fear, you may equally have no shame!” she said
in icy-cold accents; “Therefore it is easy to understand why you
deliberately refuse to see the harm and cruelty done to our son, the
Crown Prince, by his marriage with you, if such marriage were in the
least admissible, which fortunately for all concerned, it is not. He
is destined to occupy the Throne, and he must wed someone who is fit to
share it. Kings and princes may love where they choose,--but they can
only marry where they must! You are my son’s first love;--the thought
and memory of that may perhaps be a consolation to you,--but do not
assume that you will be his last!”
Gloria drew back from her; her face had paled a little.
“You can speak so!” she said sorrowfully; “You,--his mother! Poor
Queen--poor woman! I am sorry for you!”
Without pausing to notice the crimson flush of vexation that flew
over the Queen’s delicate face at her words, she turned, now with some
haughtiness, to the King.
“Speak plainly!” she said; “What is it you want of me?”
Her flashing eyes, her proud look startled him--he moved back a step
or two. Then he replied with as much firmness and dignity as he could
assume.
“Nothing is wanted of you, my child, but obedience and loyalty! Resign
all claim upon the Crown Prince as his wife; promise never to see him
again, or correspond with him,--and--you shall lose nothing by the
sacrifice you make of your little love affair to the good of the
country.”
“The good of the country!” echoed Gloria in thrilling tones. “Do _you_
know anything about it? You--who never go among your people except to
hunt and shoot and amuse yourself generally? You, who permit wicked
liars and spendthrifts to gamble with the people’s money! The good of
the country! If my life could only lift the burden of taxation from the
country, I would lay it down gladly and freely! If I were Queen, do you
think I could be like her?” and she stretched forth her white arm to
where the Queen, amazed, had risen from her seat, and now stood erect,
her rich robes trailing yards on the ground, and flashing at every point
with jewels. “Do you think I could sit unmoved, clad in rich velvet and
gems, while one single starving creature sought bread within my kingdom?
Nay, I would sell everything I possessed and go barefoot rather! I would
be a sister, not a mere ‘patroness’ to the poor;--I would never wear a
single garment that had not been made for me by the workers of my own
land;--and the ‘good of the country’ should be ‘good’ indeed, not ‘bad,’
as it is now!”
Breathless with the sudden rush of her thoughts into words, she stood
with heaving bosom and sparkling eyes, the incarnation of eloquence and
inspiration, and before the astonished monarch could speak, she went on.
“I am your son’s wife! He loves me--he has wedded me honourably and
lawfully. You wish me to disclaim that. I will not! From him and him
alone, must come my dismissal from his heart, his life and his soul. If
he desires his marriage with me dissolved, let him tell me so himself
face to face, and before you and his mother! Then I shall be content to
be no more his wife. But not till then! I will promise nothing without
his consent. He is my husband,--and to him I owe my first obedience.
I seek no honour, no rank, no wealth,--but I have won the greatest
treasure in this world, his love!--and that I will keep!”
A door opened at the further end of the room--a curtain was quietly
pushed aside, and the Crown Prince entered. With a composed, almost
formal demeanour, he saluted the King and Queen, and then going up to
Gloria, passed his arm around her waist, and held her fast.
“When you have concluded your interview with my wife, Sir,--an interview
of which I had no previous knowledge,” he said quietly, addressing the
King; “I shall be glad to have one of my own with her!”
The King answered him calmly enough.
“Your wife,--as you call her,--is a very incorrigible young person,” he
said. “The sooner she returns to her companions, the fisher-folk on The
Islands, the better! From her looks I imagined she might have sense;
but I fear that is lacking to her composition! However, she is perfectly
willing to consider her marriage with you dissolved, if you desire it. I
trust you _will_ desire it;--here, now, and at once, in my presence
and that of the Queen, your mother;--and thus a very unpleasant and
unfortunate incident in your career will be satisfactorily closed!”
Prince Humphry smiled.
“Dissolve the heavens and its stars into a cup of wine, and drink them
all down at one gulp!” he said; “And then, perhaps, you may dissolve my
marriage with this lady! If you consider it illegal, put the question
to the Courts of Law;--to the Pope, who most strenuously supports
the sanctity of the marriage-tie;--ask all who know anything of the
sacrament, whether, when two people love each other, and are bound by
holy matrimony to be as one, and are mutually resolved to so remain, any
earthly power can part them! ‘Those whom God hath joined together, let
no man put asunder.’ Is that mere lip mockery, or is it a holy bond?”
The King gave an impatient gesture.
“There is no use in argument,” he said, “when argument has to be carried
on with such children as yourselves. What cannot be done by persuasion,
must be done by force. I wished to act kindly and reasonably by both of
you--and I had hoped better things from this interview,--but as matters
have turned out, it may as well be concluded.”
“Wait!” said Gloria, disengaging herself gently from her husband’s
embrace; “I have something to say which ought to meet your wishes, even
though it may not be all you desire. I will not promise to give up my
husband;--I will not promise never to see him, and never to write to
him--but I will swear to you one thing that should completely put your
fears and doubts of me at rest!”
Both the King and Queen looked at her wonderingly;--a brighter, more
delicate beauty seemed to invest her,--she stood very proudly upright,
her small head lifted,--her rich hair glistening in the soft sunshine
that streamed in subdued tints through the high stained-glass windows
of the room,--her figure, slight and tall, was like that of the goddess
dreamt of by Endymion.
“You are so unhappy already,” she continued, turning to the Queen; “You
have lost so much, and you need so much, that I should be sorry to
add to your burden of grief! If I thought I could make you glad,--if
I thought I could make you see the world through my eyes, with all the
patient, loving human hearts about you, waiting for the sympathy you
never give; I would come to you often, and try to find the warm pulse of
you somewhere under all that splendour which you clothe yourself in,
and which is as valueless to me as the dust on the common road! And if
I could show _you_” and here she fixed her steadfast glance upon the
King,--“where you might win friends instead of losing them,--if I could
persuade you to look and see where the fires of Revolution are beginning
to smoulder and kindle under your very Throne,--if I could bear messages
from you of compassion and tenderness to all the disaffected and
disloyal, I would ask you on my knees to let me be your daughter in
affection, as I am by marriage; and I would unveil to you the secrets of
your own kingdom, which is slowly but steadily rising against you! But
you judge me wrongly--you estimate me falsely,--and where I might have
given aid, your own misconception of me makes me useless! You consider
me low-born and a mere peasant! How can you be sure of that?--for truly
I do not know who I am, or where I came from. For aught I can tell,
the storm was my father, and the sea my mother,--but my parents may as
easily have been Royal! You judge me half-educated,--and wholly unworthy
to be your son’s wife. Will the ladies of your Court compete with me in
learning? I am ready! What I hear of their attainments has not as
yet commanded my respect or admiration,--and you yourself as King, do
nothing to show that you care for either art or learning! I wonder,
indeed, that you should even pause to consider whether your son’s wife
is educated or not!”
Absolutely silent, the King kept his eyes upon her. He was experiencing
a novel sensation which was altogether delightful to him, and more
instructive than any essay or sermon. He, the ostensible ruler of the
country, was face to face with a woman who had no fear of him,--no awe
for his position,--no respect for his rank, but who simply spoke to him
as though he had been any ordinary person. He saw a scarcely perceptible
smile on his son’s handsome features,--he saw that Von Glauben’s eyes
twinkled, despite his carefully preserved seriousness of demeanour, and
he realized the almost absurd powerlessness of his authority in such an
embarrassing position. The assumption of a mute contempt, such as
was vaguely expressed by the Queen, appeared to him to be the best
policy;--he therefore adopted that attitude, without however producing
the least visible effect. Gloria’s face, softly flushed with suppressed
emotion, looked earnest and impassioned, but neither abashed nor afraid.
“I have read many histories of kings,” she continued slowly; “Of their
treacheries and cruelties; of their neglect of their people! Seldom
have they been truly great! The few who are reported as wise, lived and
reigned so many ages ago, that we cannot tell whether their virtues
were indeed as admirable as described,--or whether their vices were not
condoned by a too-partial historian. A Throne has no attraction for me!
The only sorrow I have ever known in my life, is the discovery that the
man I love best in the world is a king’s son! Would to God he were poor
and unrenowned as I thought him to be, when I married him!--for so we
should always have been happy. But now I have to think for him as well
as for myself;--his position is as hard as mine,--and we accept our fate
as a trial of our love. Love cannot be forced,--it must root itself, and
grow where it will. It has made us two as one;--one in thought,--one in
hope,--one in faith! No earthly power can part us. You would marry him
to another woman, and force him to commit a great sin ‘for the good of
the country’? I tell you, if you do that,--if any king or prince does
that,--God’s curse will surely fall upon the Throne, and all that do
inherit it!”
She did not raise her voice,--she spoke in low thrilling accents,
without excitement, but with measured force and calm. Then she beckoned
the Crown Prince to her side. He instantly obeyed her gesture. Taking
him by the hand, she advanced a little, and with him confronted both the
King and Queen.
“Hear me, your Majesties both!” she said in clear, firm accents; “And
when you have heard, be satisfied as to ‘the good of the country,’ and
let me depart to my own home in peace, away from all your crushing and
miserable conventions. I take your son by the hand, and even as I swore
my faith to him at the marriage altar, so I swear to you that he is
free to follow his own inclination;--his law is mine,--his will my
pleasure,--and in everything I shall obey him, save in this one decree,
which I make for myself in your Majesties’ sovereign presence--that
never, so help me God, will I claim or share my husband’s rank as Crown
Prince, or set foot within this palace, which is his home, again, till
a greater voice than that of any king,--the voice of the Nation itself,
calls upon me to do so!”
This proud declaration was entirely unexpected; and both the King and
Queen regarded the beautiful speaker in undisguised amazement. She,
gently dropping the Prince’s hand, met their eyes with a wistful pathos
in her own.
“Will that satisfy you?” she asked, a slight tremor shaking her voice as
she put the question.
The King at once advanced, and now spoke frankly, and without any
ceremony.
“Assuredly! You are a brave girl! True to your love, and true to the
country at one and the same time! But while I accept your vow, let me
warn you not to indulge in any lurking hope or feeling that the Nation
will ever recognize your marriage. Your own willingly-taken oath at
this moment practically makes it null and void, so far as the State
is concerned;--but perhaps it strengthens it as a bond of--youthful
passion!”
An open admiration flashed in his bold fine eyes as he spoke,--and
Gloria grew pale. With an involuntary movement she turned towards the
Queen.
“You--Madam--you--Ah! No,--not you!--you are cruel!--you have not a
woman’s heart! My love--my husband!”
The Prince was at once beside her, and she clung to him trembling.
“Take me away!” she whispered; “Take me away altogether--this place
stifles me!”
He caught her in his strong young arms, and was about to lead her to the
door, when she suddenly appeared to remember something, and releasing
herself from his clasp, put him away from her with a faint smile.
“No, dearest! You must stay here;--stay here and make your father and
mother understand all that I have said. Tell them I mean to keep my vow.
You know how thoroughly I mean it! The Professor will take me home!”
Then the Queen moved, and came towards her with her usual slow noiseless
grace.
“Let me thank you!” she said, with an air of gracious condescension;
“You are a very good girl, and I am sure you will keep your word! You
are so beautiful that you are bound to do well; and I hope your future
life will be a happy one!”
“I hope so, Madam!” replied Gloria slowly; “I think it will! If it is
not happier than yours, I shall indeed be unfortunate!”
The Queen drew back, offended; but the King, who had been whispering
aside to Von Glauben, now approached and said kindly.
“You must not go away, my child, without some token of our regard. Wear
this for Our sake!”
He offered her a chain of gold bearing a simple yet exquisitely
designed pendant of choice pearls. Her face crimsoned, and she pushed it
disdainfully aside.
“Keep it, Sir, for those whose love and faith can be purchased with
jewelled toys! Mine cannot! You mean kindly no doubt,--but a gift from
you is an offence, not an honour! Fare-you-well!”
Another moment and she was gone. Von Glauben, at a sign from the King,
hastily followed her. Prince Humphry, who had remained almost entirely
mute during the scene, now stood with folded arms opposite his Royal
parents, still silent and rigid. The King watched him for a minute or
two--then laid a hand gently on his arm.
“We do not blame you over-much, Humphry!” he said; “She is a beautiful
creature, and more intelligent than I had imagined. Moreover she has
great calmness, as well as courage.”
Still the Prince said nothing.
“You are satisfied, Madam, I presume?” went on the King addressing his
Consort;--“The girl could hardly make a more earnest vow of abnegation
than she has done. And when Humphry has travelled for a year and seen
other lands, other manners, and other faces, we may look upon this
boyish incident in his career as finally closed. I think both you and I
can rest assured that there will be no further cause for anxiety?”
He put the question carelessly. The Queen bent her head in acquiescence,
but her eyes were fixed upon her son, who still said nothing.
“We have not received any promise from Humphry himself,” she said;
“Apparently he is not disposed to take a similar oath of loyalty!”
“Truly, Madam, you judge me rightly for once!” said the Prince, quietly;
“I am certainly not disposed to do anything but to be master of my own
thoughts and actions.”
“Remain so, Humphry, by all means!” said the King indulgently. “The
present circumstances being so far favourable, we exact nothing more
from you. Love will be love, and passion must have its way with boys of
your age. I impose no further restriction upon you. The girl’s own word
is to me sufficient bond for the preservation of your high position. All
young men have their little secret love-affairs; we shall not blame you
for yours now, seeing, as we do, the satisfactory end of it in sight!
But I fear we are detaining you!” This with elaborate politeness. “If
you wish to follow your fair _inamorata_, the way is clear! You may
retire!”
Without any haste, but with formal military stiffness the Prince
saluted,--and turning slowly on his heel, left the presence-chamber.
Alone, the King and his beautiful Queen-Consort looked questioningly at
one another.
“What think you, Madam, of the heroine of this strange love-story?” he
asked with a touch of bitterness in his voice. “Does it not strike you
that even in this arid world of much deception, there may be after all
such a thing as innocence?--such a treasure as true and trusting
love? Were not the eyes of this girl Gloria, when lifted to your face,
something like the eyes of a child who has just said its prayers to
God,--who fears nothing and loves all? Yet I doubt whether you were
moved!”
“Were you?” she asked indifferently, yet with a strange fluttering at
her heart, which she could not herself comprehend.
“I was!” he answered. “I confess it! I was profoundly touched to see a
girl of such beauty and innocence confront us here, with no other shield
against our formal and ridiculous conventionalities, save the pure
strength of her own love for Humphry, and her complete trust in him. It
is easy to see that her life hangs on his will; it is not so much her
with whom we have to deal, as with him. What he says, she will evidently
obey. If he tells her he has ceased to love her, she will die quite
uncomplainingly; but so long as he does love her, she will live, and
expand in beauty and intelligence on that love alone; and you may be
assured, Madam, that in that case, he will never wed another woman! Nor
could I possibly blame him, for he is bound to find all--or most women
inferior to her!”
She regarded him wonderingly.
“Your admiration of her is keen, Sir!” she said, amazed to find herself
somewhat irritated. “Perhaps if she were not morganatically your
daughter-in-law, you might be your son’s rival?”
He turned upon her indignantly.
“Madam, the days were, when you, as my wife, had it in your power
to admit no rivals to the kingdom of your own beauty! Since then,
I confess, you have had many! But they have been worthless rivals
all,--crazed with their own vanity and greed, and empty of truth and
honour. A month or two before I came to the Throne, I was beginning to
think that women were viler than vermin,--I had grown utterly weary of
their beauty,--weary--ay, sick to death of their alluring eyes, sensual
lips, and too freely-offered caresses; the uncomely, hard-worked woman,
earning bread for her half-starved children, seemed the only kind of
feminine creature for which I could have any respect--but now--I am
learning that there _are_ good women who are fair to see,--women who
have hearts to love and suffer, and who are true--ay--true as the sun in
heaven to the one man they worship!”
“A man who is generally quite unworthy of them!” said the Queen with a
chill laugh; “Your eloquence, Sir, is very touching, and no doubt
leads further than I care to penetrate! The girl Gloria is certainly
beautiful, and no doubt very innocent and true at present,--but when
Humphry tires of her, as he surely will, for all men quickly tire of
those that love them best,--she will no doubt sink into the ordinary
ways of obtaining consolation. I know little concerning these amazingly
good women you speak of; and nothing concerning good men! But I quite
agree with you that many women are to be admired for their hard work.
You see when once they do begin to work, men generally keep them at it!”
She gathered up her rich train on one arm, and prepared to leave the
apartment. “If you think,” she continued, “as you now say, that Humphry
will never change his present sentiments, and never marry any other
woman, the girl’s oath is a mere farce and of no avail!”
“On the contrary, it is of much avail,” said the King, “for she has
sworn before us both never to claim any right to share in Humphry’s
position, till the nation itself asks her to do so. Now as the
nation will never know of the marriage at all, the ‘call’ will not be
forthcoming.”
The Queen paused in the act of turning away.
“If you were to die,” she said; “Humphry would be King. And as King, he
is quite capable of making Gloria Queen!”
He looked at her very strangely.
“Madam, in the event of my death, all things are possible!” he said; “A
dying Sovereignty may give birth to a Republic!”
The Queen smiled.
“Well, it is the most popular form of government nowadays,” she
responded, carelessly moving slowly towards the door; “And perhaps
the most satisfactory. I think if I were not a Queen, I should be a
republican!”
“And I, if I were not a King,” he responded, “should be a Socialist!
Such are the strange contradictions of human nature! Permit me!” He
opened the door of the room for her to pass out,--and as she did so, she
looked up full in his face.
“Are you still interested in your new form of amusement?” she said; “And
do you still expose yourself to danger and death?”
He bowed assent.
“Still am I a fool in a new course of folly, Madam!” he answered with a
smile, and a half sigh. “So many of my brother monarchs are wadded
round like peaches in wool, with precautions for their safety, lest they
bruise at a touch, that I assure you I take the chances of danger and
death as exhilarating sport, compared to their guarded condition. But it
is very good of you to assume such a gracious solicitude for my safety!”
“Assume?” she said. Her voice had a slight tremor in it,--her eyes
looked soft and suffused with something like tears. Then, with her usual
stately grace, she saluted him, and passed out.
Struck at the unwonted expression in her face, he stood for a moment
amazed. Then he gave vent to a low bitter laugh.
“How strange it would be if she should love me now!” he murmured.
“But--after all these years--too late! Too late!”
That night before the King retired to rest, Professor von Glauben
reported himself and his duty to his Majesty in the privacy of his own
apartments. He had, he stated, accompanied Gloria back to her home in
The Islands; and, he added somewhat hesitatingly, the Crown Prince had
returned with her, and had there remained. He, the Professor, had left
them together, being commanded by the Prince so to do.
The King received this information with perfect equanimity.
“The boy must have his way for the present,” he said. “His passion will
soon exhaust itself. All passion exhausts itself sooner or--later!”
“That depends very much on the depth or shallowness of its source, Sir,”
replied the Professor.
“True! But a boy!--a mere infant in experience! What can he know of the
depths in the heart and soul! Now a man of my age----”
He broke off abruptly, seeing Von Glauben’s eyes fixed steadfastly upon
him, and the colour deepened in his cheek. Then he gave a slight laugh.
“I tell you, Von Glauben, this little love-affair--this absurd
toy-marriage is not worth thinking about. Humphry leaves the country
at the end of this month,--he will remain absent a year,--and at
the expiration of that time we shall marry him in good earnest to a
royally-born bride. Meanwhile, let us not trouble ourselves about this
sentimental episode, which is so rapidly drawing to its close.”
The Professor bowed respectfully and retired. But not to sleep. He had a
glowing picture before his eyes,--a picture he could not forget, of the
Crown Prince and Gloria standing with arms entwined about each other
under the rose-covered porch of Ronsard’s cottage saying “Good-night”
to him, while Ronsard himself, his tranquillity completely restored,
and his former fears at rest, warmly shook his hand, and with a curious
mingling of pride and deference thanked him for all his friendship--‘all
his goodness!’
“And no goodness at all is mine,” said the meditative Professor, “save
that of being as honest as I can to both sides! But there is some change
in the situation which I do not quite understand. There is some new
plan on foot I would swear! The Prince was too triumphant--Gloria too
happy--Ronsard too satisfied! There is something in the wind!--but I
cannot make out what it is!”
He pondered uneasily for a part of the night, reflecting that when
he had returned from The Islands in the King’s yacht, he had met the
Prince’s own private vessel on her way thither, gliding over the waves,
a mere ghostly bunch of white sails in the glimmering moon. He had
concluded that it was under orders to embark the Prince for home
again in the morning; and yet, though this was a perfectly natural and
probable surmise, he had been unable to rid himself altogether of a
doubtful presentiment, to which he could give no name. By degrees,
he fell into an uneasy slumber, in which he had many incompleted
dreams,--one of which was that he found himself all alone on the wide
ocean which stretched for thousands of miles beyond The Islands,--alone
in a small boat, endeavouring to row it towards the great Southern
Continent that lay afar off in the invisible distance,--where few but
the most adventurous travellers ever cared to wander. And as he pulled
with weak, ineffectual oars against the mighty weight of the rolling
billows, he thought he heard the words of an old Irish song which he
remembered having listened to, when as quite a young man he had paid his
first and last visit to the misty and romantic shores of Britain.
“Come o’er the sea
_Cushla ma chree_!--
Mine through sunshine, storm and snows!--
Seasons may roll,
But the true soul,
Burns the same wherever it goes;
Let fate frown on, so we love and part not,
‘T is life where thou art, ‘t is death where thou art not!
Then come o’er the sea,
_Cushla ma chree_!
Mine wherever the wild wind blows!”
Then waking with a violent start, he wondered what set of brain-cells
had been stirred to reproduce rhymes that he had, or so he deemed, long
ago forgotten. And still musing, he almost mechanically went on with the
wild ditty.
“Was not the sea
Made for the free,
Land for Courts and chains alone!--
Here we are slaves,
But on the waves,
Love and liberty are our own!”
“This will never do!” he exclaimed, leaping from his bed; “I am becoming
a mere driveller with advancing age!”
He went to the window and looked out. It was about six o’clock in the
morning,--the sun was shining brightly into his room. Before him lay the
sea, calm as a lake, and clear-sparkling as a diamond;--not a boat was
in sight;--not a single white sail on the distant horizon. And in the
freshness and stillness of the breaking day, the world looked but just
newly created.
“How we fret and fume in our little span of life!” he murmured. “A few
years hence, and for us all the troubles which we make for ourselves
will be ended! But the sun and the sea will shine on just the same--and
Love, the supremest power on earth, will still govern mankind, when
thrones and kings and empires are no more!”
His thoughts were destined to bear quick fruition. The morning deepened
into noon--and at that hour a sealed dispatch brought by a sailor, who
gave no name and who departed as soon as he had delivered his packet,
was handed to the King. It was from the Crown Prince, and ran briefly
thus:--
“At your command, Sir, and by my own desire, I have left the country
over which you hold your sovereign dominion. Whither I travel, and how,
is my own affair. I shall return no more _till the Nation demands my
service_,--whereof I shall doubtless hear should such a contingency ever
arise. I leave you to deal with the situation as seems best to your good
pleasure and that of the Government,--but the life God has given me
can only be lived once, and to Him alone am I responsible for it. I am
resolved therefore to live it to my own liking,--in honesty, faith and
freedom. In accordance with this determination, Gloria, my wife, as in
her sworn marriage-duty bound, goes with me.”
For one moment the King stood transfixed and astounded; a cloud of anger
darkened his brows. Crumpling up the document in his hand, he was about
to fling it from him in a fury. What! This mere boy and girl had
baffled the authority of a king! Anon, his anger cooled--his countenance
cleared. Smoothing the paper out he read its contents again,--then
smiled.
“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!”