The next morning when Mercia awoke and found herself in this luxurious
bedchamber, surrounded by every comfort that modern invention could
bestow; for every article of utility represented some rare work of art;
and every imaginable want was supplied by the most ingenious
arrangements; it seemed to her that she had gone through a series of
delightful scenes in a dream of wonderful vividness.
The recollection of the previous evening, in which so much was seen, and
so much experienced, made it difficult to believe that it possessed any
greater solidity than the pictures in some stereoscopic arrangement. But
the great fact that a new and supreme joy reigned in her bosom—that she
loved, and was beloved—proved convincing evidence of its reality. For
the first time in her life she felt the supreme happiness—the
unutterable joy of this unique exaltation that comes once, or perhaps
twice, in a lifetime to every human being.
When she had descended the magnificently carved staircase that led into
the reception rooms, she was met by Swami himself, who conducted her
into the breakfast-room where an inviting meal was awaiting her. The
most nourishing dishes, where the palate and the digestion were equally
considered being placed on the table by native servants, as soon as she
had put in an appearance, to which she paid fair justice.
She was in excellent spirits; notwithstanding the thought of the ordeal
that lay before her; for nothing could damp, or depress them while under
the influence of the present bliss, and future dignities promised her.
Swami, too, looked supremely happy. A quiet, suppressed joy beamed in
his deep, dreamy eyes, which shed its light over his expressive
countenance. His voice too, had a special softness in its tone, that was
peculiarly charming to Mercia’s sensitive ear.
It was, in truth, the most delightful meal for these two beings that had
been their lot to partake of; the lives of both having been hitherto
solitary, laborious, and even ascetic to some extent.
‘Now, isn’t this delightful!’ laughed Mercia, gaily. ‘How nice
everything tastes when one has good company! King Solomon knew what he
was talking about when he uttered oracularly—“Better a dinner of herbs
where love is, than the stalled ox,” et cetera; but in our case we score
heavily, having the enjoyment of both commodities.’
‘The proverb holds good all the same;’ replied Swami; ‘with thee, my
Life, the dinner of herbs would be a banquet, for thy face is a
continual feast for me; thy presence would sweeten the coarsest fare.’
‘When I enter my kingdom, Swami—but there—I cannot realise my future
glory—I feel that this is greatness thrust upon me! I cannot conceive
why the people of India should think of me—me—a poor astronomer! I have
no regal blood in my veins—no glorious ancestry to boast of.
‘It is true my mother accomplished some good for the women of India,
devoting a great part of her life in the promotion of their welfare; but
that can scarcely bring any weight to the balance in my favour, in such
a case as this: the whole matter to my mind is inexplicable,’ said she
reflectively.
Swami smiled, as he watched the puzzled look upon her face, for of
course it was all clear enough to him why the people of India had picked
her out as the representative of their country’s eminence and glory;
after a pause, he thought it no harm to tell her somewhat of the
situation.
‘There are but two topics talked of just now, not only throughout this
Empire but the whole world. They form subject for conversation
everywhere. The Court; the spirit café, the theatre, the club, the
dinner-table; the street corner, the race-course, wherever men
congregate, or women either, the chief food for talk is THE GREAT TEST
TOURNAMENT, and the impeachment for high treason, of Mercia, the
Astronomer Royal, and her two friends—Geometrus, the Assistant
Astronomer, and Sadbag the Politician.
‘It is well known how the case stands, for Sadbag gave it to the whole
world immediately before his imprisonment. Everyone believes in thine
innocence, and the Emperor’s guilt. They say he ought to be indicted for
perjury—but from his position that is impossible. There are even now
hundreds of letters in thy counsel’s keeping expressive of the sympathy
of every country. France offers thee a similar position in her Empire as
that thou hast resigned here, Russia does the same, even before they
know the issue of the trial; but when thine innocence is proved beyond
dispute, every country will vie with each other in showing thee honour;
the only method open to them of displaying their contempt of Felicitas’
unworthy conduct. A two-fold motive will inspire India to top them all
in glorifying thee. One is sincere admiration for thy character and
attainments, the other is the punishment of their country’s tyrant, by
the promotion of one he sought to ruin; for it was Felicitas’ influence
which made the WORLD’S TRIBUNAL TRIAL of no account for India.
‘For this reason they do not bless him—they curse him by electing
thee—his enemy—an enemy of his own making—for of all men thou shouldst
despise him utterly.’
‘I do heartily despise him—he’s the meanest cur I know,’ remarked Mercia
excitedly; ‘he is capable of saying anything to save his own skin: he
had scarcely finished protesting how much he loved me, when to suit the
situation he turned round and made a false charge against me, and my two
friends who were witnesses of my innocence.’
‘That matches my experience of him to a tee,’ returned Swami, who was
growing quite communicative with Mercia. ‘He came yesterday to have his
fortune told; he wished to learn the issue of the trial, hoping all
would go well with him. I showed him the principal phases of the trial,
projected on the psychic-plate beneath the stereoscopic crystal, the
sight of which made him boil with anger—he was vexed beyond description,
and for my pains in bringing out these splendid psychodevelopments I
only got his growlings to the effect that he wished he had never
troubled himself at all to seek my aid. “Thou wouldst have me curse,
when I can only bless,” said I, and gave him good counsel, at which he
fumed impatiently. But of all vacillating hounds, I think he takes the
cake. One moment love, or rather desire, then fear, envy, revenge,
swayed him by turns: he changed about like a weathercock moved by every
wind.
‘However, fear was uppermost in his mind, all through, and reached its
climax when he beheld the pictures, so finally he decided to take his
flight to Berlin where he intends remaining until the trial be well
over, and all its attendant gossip grown stale, _as he hopes_.
‘But the 1st of May will bring him back; he cannot miss the GREAT TEST
TOURNAMENT which quickly follows to-day’s event. Both will end
disastrously for him, and none will say “he’s sorry.”’
‘I’m sorry I can’t feel sorry either,’ remarked Mercia laughingly. ‘But
Swami, I must away now, and explain to my counsel this new aspect of
affairs. He must be prepared for the changes that have taken place last
night—the Emperor’s withdrawal of the suit; his flight, and my discharge
from prison. It is necessary that he be made acquainted with these
altered conditions, and shape his course accordingly.’
‘My carriage is in readiness for thee, Mercia, at any moment thou art
ready to depart. Shall I accompany thee, or no?’
‘I would prefer seeing him alone, dear Swami, I am not prepared to make
my lawyer my confessor, as would be almost necessary if I were in thy
company at such a time. But I count upon thy presence near me at the
trial, for few are my friends. I have led the life of a recluse almost,
so great has been my devotion to my work, and this is how that ingrate
has rewarded me. Farewell, dearest, for one hour only—in that time I
will see thee at the court.’ And Mercia stepping into the well-appointed
carriage belonging to Swami was driven away to the barrister’s.