THE ADMIRAL.
The disapproval which Moret had expressed at Savrola's determination to
go to the State Ball was amply justified by the result. Every paper,
except those actually controlled by the party organisation, commented
severely or contemptuously on his action. THE HOUR alluded to the
groans with which the crowd had received him, as marking the decline of
his influence with the masses and the break-up of the Revolutionary
party. It also reminded its readers that social distinction was always
the highest ambition of the Demagogue, and declared that, by accepting
the President's invitation, Savrola had revealed "his sordid personal
aims." The other Government organs expressed a similar opinion in an
even more offensive manner. "These agitators," said THE COURTIER,
"have at all times in the history of the world hankered after titles
and honours, and the prospect of mixing with persons of rank and
fashion has once again proved irresistible to an austere and unbending
son of the people." This superior vulgarity, though more unpleasant,
was less dangerous than the grave and serious warnings and protests
which the Democratic journals contained. THE RISING TIDE said plainly
that, if this sort of thing continued, the Popular party would have to
find another leader, "One who did not cringe to power nor seek to
ingratiate himself with fashion."
Savrola read these criticisms with disdain. He had recognised the fact
that such things would be said, and had deliberately exposed himself to
them. He knew he had been unwise to go: he had known that from the
first; and yet somehow he did not regret his mistake. After all, why
should his party dictate to him how he should rule his private life?
He would never resign his right to go where he pleased. In this case
he had followed his own inclination, and the odium which had been cast
upon him was the price he was prepared to pay. When he thought of his
conversation in the garden, he did not feel that he had made a bad
bargain. The damage however must be repaired. He looked over the
notes of his speech again, polished his sentences, considered his
points, collected his arguments, and made some additions which he
thought appropriate to the altered state of public feeling.
In this occupation the morning passed. Moret came in to luncheon. He
refrained from actually saying "I told you so," but his looks showed
that he felt his judgment was for the future established on unshakable
foundations. His was a character easily elated or depressed. Now he
was gloomy and despondent, regarding the cause as already lost. Only a
forlorn hope remained; Savrola might express his regret at the meeting,
and appeal to the people to remember his former services. He suggested
this to his leader, who laughed merrily at the idea. "My dear Louis,"
he said, "I shall do nothing of the sort. I will never resign my own
independence; I shall always go where I like and do what I like, and if
they are not pleased, they can find someone else to discharge their
public business." Moret shuddered. Savrola continued: "I shall not
actually tell them so, but my manner will show them that I fear their
reproaches as little as Molara's enmity."
"Perhaps they will not listen; I hear reports that there will be some
hostility."
"Oh, I shall make them listen. There may be some howling at first, but
they will change their note before I have gone very far."
His confidence was contagious. Moret's spirits revived under its
influence and that of a bottle of excellent claret. Like Napoleon the
Third, he felt that all might yet be regained.
Meanwhile the President was extremely well satisfied with the first
result of his schemes. He had not foreseen that Savrola's acceptance
of the invitation to the ball would involve him in so much
unpopularity, and, although it was a poor compliment to himself, it was
an unexpected advantage. Besides, as Miguel had remarked, everything
was going on very well in other directions. He had hardened his heart
and dismissed his scruples; stern, bitter necessity had thrust him on
an unpleasant course, but now that he had started he was determined to
go on. In the meantime affairs pressed on all sides. The British
Government were displaying an attitude of resolution on the African
Question. His violent despatch had not settled the matter, as he had
hoped and even anticipated; it had become necessary to supplement his
words by actions. The African port must not be left undefended; the
fleet must go there at once. It was not a moment when he could well
afford to be without the five ships of war whose presence in the
harbour overawed many of the discontented; but he felt that a vigorous
foreign policy would be popular, or at least sufficiently interesting
to keep the public mind from domestic agitation. He also knew that a
disaster abroad would precipitate a revolution at home. It was
necessary to be very careful. He recognised the power and resources of
Great Britain; he had no illusions on the subject of the comparative
weakness of Laurania. In that indeed lay their only strength. The
British Government would do all in their power to avoid fighting
(bullying, polite Europe would call it) so small a State. It was a
game of bluff; the further he could go, the better for the situation at
home, but one step too far meant ruin. It was a delicate game to play,
and it taxed to the utmost the energies and talents of a strong, able
man.
"The Admiral is here, Your Excellency," said Miguel entering the room,
followed immediately by a short, red-faced man in naval uniform.
"Good-morning, my dear de Mello," cried the President, rising and
shaking the newcomer's hand with great cordiality. "I have got some
sailing-orders for you at last."
"Well," said de Mello bluntly, "I am sick of lying up waiting for your
agitators to rise."
"There is work of a difficult and exciting nature before you. Where's
that translation of the cipher telegram, Miguel? Ah, thank you,--look
here, Admiral."
The sailor read the paper, and whistled significantly. "It may go
further than you wish, Molara, this time," he said unceremoniously.
"I shall place the matter in your hands; you will be able to save this
situation, as you have saved so many others."
"Where did this come from?" asked de Mello.
"From French sources."
"She is a powerful ship, the _Aggressor_,--latest design, newest guns,
in fact all the modern improvements; I have nothing that she could not
sink in ten minutes; besides, there are some gunboats there as well."
"I know the situation is difficult," said the President; "that is why I
am entrusting it to you! Now listen; whatever happens I don't want
fighting; that would only end in disaster; and you know what disaster
would mean here. You must argue and parley and protest on every point,
and cause as much delay as possible. Consult me by telegraph on every
occasion, and try to make friends with the English admiral; that is
half the battle. If it ever comes to a question of bombardment, we
shall give in and protest again. I will have your instructions
forwarded to you in writing this evening. You had better steam
to-night. You understand the game?"
"Yes," said de Mello, "I have played it before." He shook hands and
walked to the door.
The President accompanied him. "It is possible," he said earnestly,
"that I shall want you back here before you have gone very far; there
are many signs of trouble in the city, and after all Strelitz is still
on the frontier waiting for a chance. If I send for you, you will
come?" There was almost an appealing note in his tone.
"Come?" said the Admiral. "Of course I will come,--full steam ahead.
I have had my big gun trained on the Parliament House for the last
month, and I mean to let it off one day. Oh, you can trust the fleet."
"Thank God I never doubted that," said the President with some emotion,
and shaking de Mello's hand warmly, he returned to his writing-table.
He felt that the Admiral was thoroughly loyal to the Government.
These men who live their lives in great machines, become involved in
the mechanism themselves. De Mello had lived on warships all his days,
and neither knew nor cared for anything else. Landsmen and civilians
he despised with a supreme professional contempt. Such parts of the
world as bordered on the sea, he regarded as possible targets of
different types; for the rest he cared nothing. With equal interest he
would burst his shells on patriots struggling to be free or foreign
enemies, on a hostile fort or on his native town. As long as the
authority to fire reached him through the proper channel, he was
content; after that he regarded the question from a purely technical
standpoint.
The afternoon was far advanced before the President finished the varied
labours of his office. "There is a great meeting to-night, is there
not?" he asked Miguel.
"Yes," said the Secretary, "in the City-Hall; Savrola is going to
speak."
"Have you arranged about an opposition?"
"Some of the secret police are going to make a little, I believe;
Colonel Sorrento has arranged that. But I fancy Señor Savrola's party
are rather displeased with him, as it is."
"Ah," said Molara, "I know his powers; he will tear their very hearts
out with his words. He is a terrible force; we must take every
precaution. I suppose the troops have been ordered to be under arms?
There is nothing he cannot do with a crowd,--curse him!"
"The Colonel was here this morning; he told me he was making
arrangements."
"It is good," said the President; "he knows his own safety is involved.
Where do I dine to-night?"
"With Señor Louvet, at the Home Office, an official dinner."
"How detestable! Still he has a plain cook and he will be worth
watching to-night. He gets in such a state of terror when Savrola
holds forth that he is ridiculous. I hate cowards, but they make the
world the merrier."
He bade the Secretary good-night and left the room. Outside he met
Lucile. "Dearest," he said, "I am dining out to-night, an official
dinner at Louvet's. It is a nuisance, but I must go. Perhaps I shall
not be back till late. I am sorry to leave you like this, but in these
busy days I can hardly call my soul my own."
"Never mind, Antonio," she replied; "I know how you are pressed with
work. What has happened about the English affair?"
"I don't like the situation at all," said Molara. "They have a Jingo
Government in power and have sent ships as an answer to our note. It
is most unfortunate. Now I have to send the fleet away,--at such a
moment." He groaned moodily.
"I told Sir Richard that we had to think of the situation here, and
that the despatch was meant for domestic purposes," said Lucile.
"I think," said the President, "that the English Government also have
to keep the electorate amused. It is a Conservative ministry; they
must keep things going abroad to divert the public mind from advanced
legislation. What, more still, Miguel?"
"Yes, Sir; this bag has just arrived, with several important despatches
which require your immediate attention."
The President looked for a moment as if he would like to tell Miguel to
take himself and his despatches to the infernal regions; but he
repressed the inclination. "Good, I will come. I shall see you at
breakfast to-morrow, my dear, till then, farewell," and giving her a
weary smile he walked off.
Thus it is that great men enjoy the power they risk their lives to gain
and often meet their deaths to hold.
Lucile was left alone, not for the first time when she had wanted
companionship and sympathy. She was conscious of an unsatisfactory
sensation with regard to existence generally. It was one of those
moments when the prizes and penalties of life seem equally stale and
futile. She sought refuge in excitement. The project she had
conceived the night before began to take actual shape in her mind; yes,
she would hear him speak. Going to her room she rang the bell. The
maid came quickly. "What time is the meeting to-night?"
"At eight, Your Excellency," said the girl.
"You have a ticket for it?"
"Yes, my brother----"
"Well, give it to me; I want to hear this man speak. He will attack
the Government; I must be there to report to the President."
The maid looked astonished, but gave up the ticket meekly. For six
years she had been Lucile's maid, and was devoted to her young and
beautiful mistress. "What will Your Excellency wear?" was her only
remark.
"Something dark, with a thick veil," said Lucile. "Don't speak of this
to anyone."
"Oh no, Your Ex----"
"Not even to your brother."
"Oh, no, Your Excellency."
"Say I have a headache and have gone to bed. You must go to your room
yourself."
The maid hurried off to get the dress and bonnet. Lucile felt full of
the nervous excitement her resolve had raised. It was an adventure, it
would be an experience, more than that, she would see him. The
crowd,--when she thought of them she felt a little frightened, but then
she remembered that women frequently went to these demonstrations, and
there would be plenty of police to keep order. She dressed herself
hastily in the clothes that the maid brought, and descending the
stairs, entered the garden. It was already dusk, but Lucile had no
difficulty in finding her way to a small private gate in the wall,
which her key unlocked.
She stepped into the street. All was very quiet. The gas lamps flared
in a long double row till they almost met in the distant perspective.
A few people were hurrying in the direction of the City-Hall. She
followed them.