The Great Justice Hall, as it was named, was of such dimensions that it
afforded accommodation for several thousands of persons, who on this
occasion of unprecedented interest availed themselves of it without
delay. A long line of carriages containing the _élite_ of society
awaited the opening of the great door with that admirable spirit of
patience which the aristocracy display on great occasions. A few of
these vehicles were drawn by horses, but most were impelled by electric
motive force.
A _queue_ of persons who kept no ‘carriage steerer,’ doing their own
driving usually, had come on foot, and had taken their places in the
order of their arrival, for the indecent rioting and pushing for
priority of places at the doors of public buildings was put down by this
time, a lady member of Parliament having brought a bill to make this
unruly behaviour punishable as street-brawling.
By the time the Court was opened every available seat was filled, not
only by the _élite_ of the Empire, but by members of the Continental
aristocracy also; including two Crowned Heads among their number. On all
great occasions, when a crush was expected, the public were admitted by
ticket, which could be obtained by application to the Usher, who issued
no greater number than the accommodation afforded.
The Emperor Nicholas, the Fourth, of Russia, accompanied by his Empress;
the newly-crowned Emperor, Louis XX., of France, occupied seats set
apart for the _crême de la crême_ of the aristocracy.
It was, in point of fact, attended by a crowd of great personages, whose
importance could not admit of their presence at any ordinary affair,
however swift the means of locomotion lessened the inconvenience of
travel.
It was not every day that an Emperor appeared in the witness box, and on
such an unparalleled occasion it was necessary to make an effort and not
miss such a rare treat.
Then Mercia, herself, had occupied such a high position in everybody’s
estimation that the charge against her of High Treason, by her
threatened assault on the sacred person of his Majesty, gave a piquancy
to the affair which no vulgar assassin could have afforded. Besides,
those ‘in the know,’ expected to hear evidence so deliciously spicy that
to miss it would have been barbarity. Foreign journals having given
strong hints of the situation in their gossiping columns, inspired by
Sadbag’s telegrams to the secretaries of clubs in various cities,
including several continental clubs among their number.
Of course the newspapers circulating in the Teutonic Empire were much
too circumspect to hint at the true aspect of the affair. To have
anticipated evidence; or to have expressed an opinion on a case still
pending would have led to serious difficulties, proving most
embarrassing to the proprietors. Consequently, a distracting shade of
mystery surrounded the coming trial, making it particularly attractive
to everybody.
Whilst awaiting the proceedings, the anxious auditory amused themselves
by giving expression to their private opinions, which no law of libel at
any period of social history has been found powerful enough to repress.
‘What glorious fun!’ cried the young sprig of nobility, ‘Felicitas
falling out with his lady Astronomer. I wouldn’t miss it for worlds!’
‘What a disgraceful episode in the annals of Royalty!’ remarked the
elderly prude, who was evidently as anxious as the fastest of
swell-ocracy to listen to the forthcoming details.
‘I wouldn’t be Mercia for millions! It is altogether frightful to have
such dealings with a MAN!’ exclaimed the serious young lady; who showed
her abhorrence of such indecency by bringing her opera glasses to scan
the scene more critically.
‘The Emperor has done quite right, to make a stand against the
machinations of rabid Republicans;’ remarked a staunch Royalist. ‘We
won’t know where we are if this kind of thing goes unpunished. It is
evident on the face of it that it is a conspiracy to lower the Imperial
prestige, so as to pave the way for a Republic, when the government of
the Empire would become a hotbed of office seekers, rivalling America of
a hundred years ago, whose motto was,—“National good go hang, we’ll
feather our nest while we may.”’
‘This comes of the preposterous advancement of women: had the Astronomer
Royal been a _man_ such a scene could not have occurred,’ observed an
acidulated Science-failure of the male sex, whose ill-success at
competitive exams. had rendered vicious.
‘If it be a political intrigue, as the Royalist journals aver, how can
sex affect her loyalty? The same might have happened with a variation,
had the Astronomer Royal been of the male sex,’ returned his neighbour.
‘It is a love-intrigue, ending with the usual quarrel,’ whispered an
elderly Solomon, wise in the knowledge of the world’s weakness.
‘I thought Mercia incapable of love-intrigues, or any other, being a
perfect model of all the virtues,’ answered his neighbour.
‘All women are “perfect” till they’re tried,’ uttered the same cynic
dryly.
‘Which means that Mercia is no better than she should be,’ laughed
another.
‘Perhaps she was _too_ good,’ remarked a third.
‘Which way?’ inquired his friend, poking him with his elbow.
‘That the evidence must show,’ replied another of the coterie.
‘Was there ever a case where the honest, downright truth was given on
either side? I never knew one,’ emphatically declared another of the
group. ‘It has been the same through all time,’ he added after a pause,
‘for an eminent judge of the nineteenth century averred that throughout
the whole course of his long experience on the woolsack he had never
come across a case where the evidence was not, in more or less degree,
suppressed.’
‘The world’s stage keeps pretty much the same all through the piece;
humanity is very human yet;’ sighed a white-haired old gentleman, with a
very sweet expression on his countenance.
‘It will be _sinfully_ disappointing if the case is hushed up,’
whispered one man to his neighbour, in another part of the Hall. ‘The
Emperor is _non est_: he has _bunked_!’
‘What! Has he fled? Impossible! He dare not do so. _He_ threw the
gauntlet, and must abide the issue. He _cannot_ run away,’ returned his
friend who was bewildered with amazement.
‘All the same, he is off, gone to Berlin on important State affairs,
leaving word that the trial could be abandoned altogether, or take its
chance without him.’
‘I hope it won’t be permitted to fall through,’ cried the other man
excitedly; ‘it would be monstrous after all this fuss, and preparation.’
‘I cannot find an adjective in our language strong enough to express
_my_ disappointment if it collapse. I want to see Mercia righted; she is
honour and probity itself, and the opportunity of clearing her character
should not be denied her, notwithstanding the absence of her accuser.’
‘See,’ said his friend, ‘the Empress is taking her seat near Nicholas of
Russia, that looks healthy—she is doubtless expecting a _dénouement_ of
which she wishes to be the witness.’
‘But there is no Felicitas to escort her, that proves the account of his
flight to be trustworthy.’
‘I wish her joy of the situation,’ remarked an all-knowing one; ‘she’ll
wish a thousand times over she had kept away.’
Just before the great clock pointed at half-past ten, disengaged
barristers, who came to see and hear for the sake of gaining experience,
took their appointed seats, for this custom was formally recognised.
Counsel engaged in the case, arrayed in gown and wig, appeared also,
whose capabilities were freely discussed by the onlookers.
But, when Mercia, escorted by the renowned Swami entered the Hall, so
universal was the feeling in her favour, that a great burst of applause
greeted her appearance.
It was as spontaneous as it was unusual, for that great mass appeared to
be moved by one emotion, which could only find utterance by an intense
roar of hand-clapping; signifying as plainly as if delivered in so many
words—‘Mercia, we believe in thee: before we hear thy defence we feel in
our hearts that thine is a just cause, and thou art good and true to the
core!’
Mercia raised her eyes, and looking round at the assembled people,
smiled sweetly, and bowed her head in acknowledgment of the sympathy
accorded her; while attendant ushers vainly called for silence, deeming
it their duty to put down all demonstrations of approval.
She was attired in a rich crimson velvet gown that fell in graceful
folds from her shapely shoulders; the hue of which lent a deeper
rose-tint to her cheeks, whose colour had somewhat paled during her
incarceration.
But what appeared most inexplicable to the multitude was the expression
of serene sweetness that overspread her countenance. It was indeed an
indefinable expression, indicating a variety of emotions. Joy, content,
intense happiness, and possession, all united in imparting to her face a
look of subdued and silent triumph; but he who could gaze beneath the
surface might have read that LOVE, all conquering LOVE had made his home
in her bosom, and through her brilliant eyes, illumined with a divine
radiance those windows of her soul.
All bent their gaze upon her. The noble stature; the perfectly moulded
form; the well-shaped head; the exquisite beauty of every feature,
lighted by that divine expression which shone from out her star-like
eyes, brought a murmur of admiration, and suppressed enthusiasm from
every side.
All through the Hall it spread itself; and Swami perceived that in those
millions of brain-waves floating round him, admiration for the woman who
held his soul was the one prevailing emotion.
After the first burst of enthusiasm had subsided Swami himself came in
for notice.
‘Dayanand Swami! The great thought-reader!’ exclaimed different persons
_sotto voce_, as each one recognised him.
‘Whoever saw the Eastern Hermit in a public place before? What means
this strange innovation?’
‘Now this is getting mysterious,’ observed Prince Osbert gaily to his
neighbour, Louis, of France, ‘our great Magician escorting our fair
Astronomer—what in the name of goodness is going to happen?’
‘Beauty holds Magic, all the world over, and star-gazing and
thought-reading complete the full magician,’ answered the French monarch
gallantly.
‘I bet she’s been to get her fortune told, and Swami, like the rest of
us, has succumbed. But no fellow has the shadow of a chance with her;
she’s gone on Geometrus, that melancholy being sitting yonder. He’s the
cause of all the row,’ whispered Osbert oracularly, ‘but for him our
cousin Felicitas might not have fared so badly. However, ’tis better so;
’tis time his wings were clipped.’
‘All the world avers,’ returned Louis earnestly, ‘that this beauteous
being is a slave to Duty. Day and night, year in, year out, she’s ever
at her post, and gives no thought to love, the essence of existence.’
While these observations were going on, the three Judges, attired as in
days of old, took their seats with suitable solemnity, when the Court
opened with the same formularies as had been in use for hundreds of
years: for the Courts of Law more than any other institution cling to
the ancient order of things with tenacity.
Even the old-fashioned blunder of saying ‘you’ for ‘thee’ was still
adhered to in the Law Courts, verbal innovations being equally
discountenanced.
After a short delay the auditory was startled by hearing the charge
delivered, of which the following is the substance.
‘Mercia Montgomery, you are charged with feloniously attempting the life
of His Imperial Majesty, Albert Felicitas, Supreme Ruler and Governor of
Great Britain and Ireland, Emperor of the Teutonic, Indian, and African
Empires, which murderous attempt is accounted HIGH TREASON by the law of
these Realms. Do you plead Guilty or not Guilty?’
Before the accused could possibly have time to give her answer, the
Public Prosecutor interfered.
‘I am empowered to convey to the prisoner the favour of his Imperial
Majesty’s clemency. Taking into consideration the prisoner’s long and
valuable service rendered to her country, also the great loyalty she has
ever evinced towards her Sovereign during that period of faithful
service, the Emperor has decided to overlook the sudden outburst of
passion made by his otherwise faithful subject, and illustrious
Astronomer, and has therefore conveyed to her his Royal Pardon, in
proper form, forthwith.
‘The prisoner has been already made acquainted with this fact and was in
the enjoyment of her freedom last evening,’ he added, regarding Mercia
with a glance full of meaning.
Then Mercia, motioning her counsel to keep his seat a moment longer, and
rising to her full height, replied in low but emphatic tones—‘Being
altogether innocent of the crime of which I am charged, I am unable to
accept the clemency offered by his Most Gracious Majesty.
‘It will be soon enough to pray for pardon when I am proved guilty. If
the Court will permit, I beg that the trial proceed, and my character
for ever cleared from all unworthy imputations.
‘I, Mercia, the Astronomer, must leave this Court with my name pure,
unsullied, and honourable; or hide my head in shame for ever.’
‘Long live Mercia! Long live Mercia!’ resounded in mighty force
throughout that great Hall. The whole multitude was with her in one
intense wave of sympathy; for she had given utterance to their own
feeling. They desired to bottom the whole business, and place their
beloved Astronomer on the proud pedestal she had formerly occupied.
Besides, the Englishman’s love of justice was another factor in the
case, and no matter what the issue, they desired to see fair play
throughout.
Swami looked radiant with happiness as he pressed towards her side eager
to render her whatever trifling service possible at such a moment.
Geometrus wore a serious and downcast aspect, as if he believed that
nothing would go right. Sadbag sitting near him, with a mysterious
parcel by his side, seemed the picture of suppressed satisfaction.
When everybody had quieted down Mercia’s counsel got upon his legs, and
requested that the Public Prosecutor should state his case, to which
demand the Judges agreed. Thereupon, the Emperor’s counsel made his
charge according to the manner in which he had been instructed, but
having no witnesses to produce, save Prince Osbert, who averred he saw
nothing, from which testimony no amount of questioning could make him
depart, the Defence was commenced without delay.
Rising to his feet Mercia’s counsel proceeded with his speech.
‘To-day I am placed in a position as painful to me as a subject, as it
is unique in the annals of a Law Court. Painful, insomuch as it is
necessary for the ends of justice that I shall have to accuse my
Sovereign of conduct so base that the meanest subject of his Realms
would blush to be found guilty of the like.
‘I am in a position to show that the Emperor’s visits to his Astronomer
were not made either in the interests of science, or those of his
subjects: no such justifiable, or worthy motives prompted his course of
action. On the contrary, these interviews were made with the intention
of corrupting her pure mind, and of guiling her away from her duty.
‘By his artful insinuations he endeavoured to gradually lead her on to
disregard her vows of abstention from Love, or Marriage, with a view of
paving the way for his own purposes. He dwelt upon the folly of
continuing a course of asceticism, whose only effect would be
ultimately, a serious injury to her health and happiness; and she in the
perfect innocence of her pure mind, accepted it at the moment, as a
piece of fatherly advice that should not be disregarded.
‘Like the Eastern fable of Eve and the Serpent, she listened to the
voice of the Tempter not knowing he was planning her downfall. But
luckier than our First Mother, Mercia discovered her mistake before
touching the forbidden fruit.
‘From the evidence you will learn that the Tempter used every argument
he could think of, offering the possible and the impossible to induce
her to comply. At length, with a heart bursting with mortification and
indignation she essayed to leave him, when he endeavoured to forcibly
detain her; upon which she raised her ebony life-preserver to warn him
from trespassing on her person. At this juncture he was surprised by the
entrance of the Prince and Geometrus, who were amazed at a scene so
unexpected. Mortified at being caught at such a moment he tried to
explain away the difficulty, and coolly turned the tables upon the lady,
by accusing her of some failure in duty; at this moment who should
emerge from a corner of the apartment, which was partially concealed by
a large screen, but Mr. Sadbag, whose presence it will be my duty to
explain.
‘It appears that this gentleman having just purchased a phonograph,
constructed on a new principle, and being wishful to present it to one
of his grand-children, as a scientific plaything, he carried it to
Mistress Mercia with a view of obtaining a record of her conversation,
which he expected would prove equally instructive, as interesting to his
grand-children.
‘It was his intention to ask this favour, as soon as she made her
appearance, and in order that her time, usually so valuable, should not
be unduly taken up, he opened out his instrument, making it ready for
the reception of the sound-waves. Finding, at length, that he would have
to wait some little time before seeing her, he took up a book and
commenced reading, and finished by dozing off into a light slumber,
according to the manner of elderly folk with nothing to occupy their
attention.
‘He was awakened from his sleep by the sound of voices,—that of the
Emperor, and the fair Astronomer; both evidently in a state of unusual
excitement.
‘To his utter annoyance he discovered that the nature of the
conversation to which he was being made an unwilling listener, was of a
character wholly unsuitable for the presence of a third person. The
situation became more and more distressing to him; he knew not what to
do. It was impossible to leave the apartment without discovery; it was
equally objectionable to reveal his presence at such a moment. With many
conflicting thoughts, he finally decided to stay where he was until the
termination of the interview, when he would leave the room comfortably;
at the same time forming a resolution to keep the affair a dead secret
within his own bosom, and let it rest there for ever.
‘This merciful intention on his part towards the Emperor, he was
compelled to abandon, on account of the false charge that monarch had so
quickly and ingeniously invented against Mercia, whereby he hoped to
cover his guilt.
‘I will now call upon Mr. Sadbag to open his instrument, and give us the
dialogue that was so unintentionally recorded therein; but which I am
afraid will prove more interesting to the company present, than edifying
or instructive to that gentleman’s progeny.’
Mr. Sadbag immediately sprang to his feet, and taking up the mysterious
parcel proceeded to the witness box, when he requested a few moments’
grace to adjust the mechanism of his unique witness; after which was
heard in the most natural tones the voice of the Emperor in lively mood
saying—‘Ah, Mistress Mercia, what cheerful looks thou dost carry to-day!
Methinks thy face betokens much content: hast thou taken my words to
heart, fair lady, ’twas truly excellent advice?’
Then followed Mercia’s musical voice, in this wise—‘Sire, thou saidst
something concerning the sun. Thou didst talk of coming to learn more of
his condition, I believe.’
Then followed a little laugh, half satirical, half good-humoured from
Felicitas, after which the machine said—‘I fain would know more of the
sun’s late vagaries: but it would please me infinitely better to learn
something of thyself. Dost thou never feel lonely?’
Here a suppressed titter went round the Court, but the machine heeded it
not.
‘Often enough, Sire,’ it said in Mercia’s sweet tones, ‘the hours speed
away at times very quickly when I am hard at work; but when it is time
to rest then the feeling of solitude overwhelms me. I get appalled at
the silence that surrounds me, and a melancholy seizes me so severely,
that I rise unable to cope with my duties.’
‘Art thou then tired of this occupation? It is indeed too much for thee.
Rest a while, sweet Mercia, and let the stars take care of themselves
for a season.’
The voice of the machine grew quite pathetic here: evidently Felicitas
was growing sympathetic.
‘Oh, that would spoil all my calculations,’ said the machine, very
sweetly, ‘the work of years would be as nought were I to stay my hand
now. No, I will wait until my treatise on the stars is complete; then I
will take some little change for my health’s sake.’
‘Health and love, sweet Mercia, go hand in hand together,’ the machine
sang out in melting tones, ‘let thine heart soften to its influence, and
all will go well with thee. Thy melancholies will disappear; thy
solitude lightened, for thou wilt have a new theory to analyse—a new and
a better one. Yes, thou canst love, Mercia, I know it; for thine eyes
were made for the conquest of man’s heart, rather than star-gazing.
Cease to disregard the designs of Nature when she formed thee, and give
thyself unto the pleasure of love.’
‘Sire,’ answered Mercia’s sweet voice, which now had a strange, startled
tone—‘I know not what answer to give in this matter—I am yet
unprepared—perplexed with this reasoning of thine.’
‘Hast thou not felt the want of companionship, dear Mercia? Here penned
in this solitude only fit for a greybeard thou dost pine, yet knoweth
not what it is ails thee. It is good to be loved, fair one, to realise
how much thy womanhood means. Hast thou never felt its joys—its pains?’
asked the voice in a coaxing sort of tone.
‘But my bond, Sire, I cannot break my bond, signed by my own hand, to
forswear love and marriage: no one but thyself can relieve me of this
obligation,’ replied Mercia’s voice excitedly.
‘I heartily relieve thee, then, my good Mercia: I care not for the bond
one iota, if that be all that’s in thy way. Keep thy post, as thou
likest thy work so well, and enjoy the delights of love at the same
time,’ reeled out the machine in the Emperor’s most insinuating tones.
Then followed a low cry of joy, in Mercia’s voice, and the sound of a
kiss; listening ladies blushed, smart young men sniggered, and elderly
men looked as if things were getting serious.
‘Isn’t that machine playing it low on the lady?’ whispered Prince Osbert
to Louis, his neighbour.
‘Hush,’ returned the French Emperor—‘listen, there’s a volley of kisses
going off—be quiet, pray!’
‘It’s getting beyond a joke—it really is! Just look at the Empress,
she’s gone green in the face! Mercia’s looking pretty pink, and
altogether the matter is too blue for my modesty!’ exclaimed the Prince,
while bursting with suppressed mirth.
All eyes regarded the beautiful culprit seated in the witness box with
increased interest. ‘Oh, thou guilty creature—think shame to thyself!’
the ladies’ looks said as plainly as possible.
‘He’s having a good time of it!’ whispered one to his neighbour.
‘She’s no better than she should be, after all!’ muttered another.
‘Such pretty lips were made for kissing!’ remarked another jocularly.
‘So it seems!’ answered his neighbour dryly.
‘Felicitas hasn’t bad taste!’ cried another.
‘He knows how to do it!’ was the rejoinder.
‘Most entertaining, truly,’ remarked a lady sarcastically.
‘Entertaining isn’t the word for it—’tis scrumptious!’ returned her
husband. ‘One hears the kisses, and sees the lady; ’tis a treat for the
gods!’
‘Oh, the hussy! Don’t look at her. What a cheek, to face it out like
this!’
These various remarks, and many more besides, occupied but a few seconds
for delivery, for the Usher calling out silence, on hearing the low
murmur of voices, the machine began talking again.
‘What means the Emperor by this unheard-of liberty? What have I done
that I should be treated as a courtesan by my Sovereign?’ cried the
machine, in a voice choked with pain and indignation.
‘A courtesan!’ repeated the Emperor’s voice, ‘I would give thee a crown
if I could! Thy queenly brow was truly made for one. And by the stars,
thou shalt have it yet! Yes, dear Mercia, thou shalt share my throne,
and rule me, my sweet, together with mine Empire.’
‘Share thy throne and rule thine Empire! Surely, Sire, thou hast gone
mad!’
‘Yes, truly, I am mad—mad with love for thee, and thou knowest it,
Mercia, else wouldst thou have kissed my hand in acknowledgment of it?’
‘In acknowledgment of _thy_ love!’ cried the machine scornfully. ‘It was
not so—_thy_ love never entered my thought.’
‘Whose then?’
‘Geometrus,’ said the instrument, in Mercia’s soft voice.
‘Geometrus!’ scoffed the machine in the Emperor’s tones. ‘And dost thou
place that poltroon before _me_? Am I to be flouted for _him_?’
‘His love is honourable, and thine is not; therein lies the difference,
my Sire,’ the voice of Mercia replied in a propitiating tone; as if to
win the monarch over to give consent to her marriage with Geometrus.
‘But my love _shall be made honourable_, Mercia, I will get a divorce,
and thou shalt fill the Empress’ place. Aye, and fill it far away better
than she has ever done! I hate her—curse her!’ Then followed a grating
noise as if the Emperor were grinding his teeth in fury at the thought
of his marriage fetters. A painful feeling spread itself through the
Court; the Empress became the cynosure of all eyes: her face turned
deathly white; a minute later she had fainted, and was carried away from
the scene that jealousy had prompted her to witness.
‘But I cannot rob another woman of her husband: I would not defraud the
meanest in thy realms, still less thine Empire’s highest lady!’ uttered
the machine in pure clear tones.
A suppressed murmur of applause greeted this avowal, but the machine
went on heedless of interruption.
‘It is not robbery, Mercia, she doth not own my heart, and never did! I
was cozened into the marriage by my cousin Osbert—curse him, for a
meddling fool!’
‘He did it, doubtless, for the best. The whole of thy Cabinet approved,
so did the nation. It is a new thing for me to learn that our Emperor
lives unhappily with his spouse—I cannot understand it.’
‘She’s trying to reason him out of his folly,’ remarked Louis, of
France, ‘good little girl!’
‘I never felt the chains gall till now, Mercia,’ the machine confessed
with relentless veracity. ‘A quiet indifference kept me content until
thy beauty set my heart a-beating with a new joy. I knew not love till
mine eyes dwelt upon thy loveliness, and mine ears listened to the words
that flowed from thy lips like a sweet rippling fountain; whose waters
gave forth a pure, clear, life-giving stream.
‘Yes, I have drunk therein, and am filled with new emotions—new joys—new
hopes—new life!’ The phonograph here made a pause, when it recommenced
with a sobbing sound.
‘Now is my beauty an evil thing, and a curse to me!’ cried Mercia’s
voice, in soft, pathetic sweetness. ‘Would I had never been born, or
that Nature had shaped me uncomely, for then this misfortune could not
have overtaken me! Two men desire me, and I may not have either. I must
live in a world filled like a garden with flowers—flowers and blossoms
of love. Yet, I may not touch them; their fragrance is not for me; not
one may I wear on my breast!
‘Yet, they nod and beckon me to pluck them. They offer me the incense of
their being, and would fain spend their full fragrance upon me; for
their desire is to nestle on my bosom, and give me the joy of their
beauty and love.’
As the instrument gave utterance to this sweet rhapsody, delivered in a
low, clear, plaintive voice, that fell like music on the ear of the
enraptured auditory, who listened breathlessly to every word that fell
from her lips, as it were; for in imagination they saw her with bowed
head, and clasped hands breathing the poetry of that moment of divine
exaltation.
The human desire for human love was finding expression: the longing of
the soul for companionship was shaping itself into language so intensely
irresistible, that it went to every heart with the fleetness of the
lightning’s flash.
Only one feeling prevailed throughout that great assembly—admiration for
the noble character of the beautiful woman sitting there before them,
whose flushed cheek and lowered eyelids evidenced the modesty of her
womanhood.
As soon as a pause was reached by the instrument, the enthusiasm of the
people could be restrained no longer. Men testified their approval in
true English fashion by the heartiest round of applause as was never
before heard in that soberly-conducted Justice Hall. When the excitement
had somewhat subsided, Mercia rose to her feet, and turning her gaze
with an air of modest dignity upon the people, she addressed them.—
‘Dear friends—until this moment, I knew not I possessed so many——’
Another round of applause.
‘Dear friends,’ she continued sweetly, ‘accept my warmest thanks for
your generosity in believing in me while yet I remained unheard. My
lords,’ and she turned to the presiding Judges, ‘it is true that this
instrument,’ she pointed then to the phonograph—‘has been signally
instrumental in rendering undeniable testimony of the value of the
evidence placed before you. Nevertheless, I knew not when I came hither
that I was to encounter my own words uttered without thought, or
preparation, in a moment of excitement; for probably, had I been aware
that such was my friend, Mr. Sadbag’s intention, my place at this
justice bar would never have been filled.
‘Holding his Majesty’s “pardon” as I do, I was under no necessity to
appear before you, and plead the justice of my cause. Nevertheless, I do
not regret the exposure, for after all, it has given the opportunity, to
you, dear people, of showing the good feeling you entertain for me.
‘I felt in my heart when I elected to go forward with my defence that
the people of this great Empire would render me justice and see me
safely through this trying ordeal.’
‘Good people,’ exclaimed Mr. Sadbag, smiling good-humouredly, ‘pray
don’t applaud any more; I can’t get along with my talking-machine; and
until I finish the Court is unable to arrive at a decision. ’Tis a pity
to hinder the Emperor’s pretty speeches, just listen to this, and see
how poetical he is: the tender passion makes even kings grow quite
tragical.’
‘Mercia, Mercia, give me thy love! Take me, my beloved, spurn me no
longer, for without thee I am as one dead. As a world without sun,
without life, without warmth I shall go on my way darkened for ever.
‘Take me into the sunshine of thy love; give me new life, dearest;
resuscitate and refresh me with the joy of thy beauty, and let us drink
of the wine of Love’s pleasures for ever.
‘Then shall we two learn how good it is to love; how sweet it is to be
together! How delightful the blending of two souls made satisfied with
their own companionship!’
‘It is Geometrus who speaks,’ came the soft dreamy tones of Mercia,
‘Geometrus has opened his heart to me at last!’
‘Geometrus!’ shouted the machine in the angry tones of the Emperor, ‘it
is _not_ Geometrus; it is I—Felicitas—Felicitas thine Emperor, who
abjectly offers thee his love; his crown, and sues thee, Mercia, his
servant—his astronomer.’
Then Mercia awakening, evidently, from her love-dream, and realising her
true position exclaimed with great dignity, ‘Felicitas, the Emperor,
hath no crown to offer his subject, Mercia, for it sits already on the
brow of his Royal Spouse. Neither has he love to offer his astronomer,
for it is sworn to his Empress for ever. It is an insult to me, Mercia,
thine offer of illicit love and I refuse to longer remain in thy
service.’
‘That will do, Mr. Sadbag,’ interrupted the senior Judge, ‘we have heard
quite sufficient to enable us to arrive at a decision. The prisoner—I
mean the accused, is found NOT GUILTY of the charge against her. The
lady and her friends may now leave the Court without a stain on their
character. It is unnecessary to go into the charges brought against
these gentlemen, as the clearing of the principal defender establishes
the innocence of the whole three. This case ought never to have come
before the Court at all.’
‘Good!’ exclaimed Sadbag to his trusty phonograph, ‘thy testimony is
worth more than a score of witnesses, or a Court full of lawyers; thou
hast served us well, little one; thanks to Edison, or whoever it was
invented thee!’
‘Three cheers, three times over for Mercia, the Astronomer Royal!’
shouted a stentorian voice, and the tremendous volume of sound was
caught up by the thousands who were awaiting the verdict in the streets,
and all the city shouted—‘Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!’ nine times in
succession, and women wept for joy, and wreaths were showered upon her,
and all the homage due to a great hero was rendered her, just as
Felicitas had seen pictured in the psycho-development the day before.
Swami had prepared the carriage and horses for her use, which now stood
in readiness. But the climax of the ovation was reached when the people,
not knowing what to do to show her honour, removed the prancing steeds,
which were startled by the clamour, and drew the chariot themselves.
Publicly, in presence of the crowd, and of her intimate friends, Swami
stepped up to the carriage, already piled with laurel wreaths intermixed
with flowers of rare beauty, and presented her with his wonderful crown
of precious jewels. It represented a wreath of glittering blossoms
intertwined with bay leaves; which sparkled with a thousand rays in the
bright sunshine; placing this brilliant trophy of that day’s triumph on
her head he took his seat beside her.
A deeper flush of pleasure came into Mercia’s radiant face, for her
happiness was now complete in having him near.
‘Three cheers for Swami our great thought-reader and Mercia’s friend!’
cried one of the crowd, who had seen Swami escort her into the Court,
and thereby deduced that he was her most trusty friend.
The people willingly accorded him the acclamation, giving a share also
to Geometrus, and the intrepid Sadbag.
But before all this took place, when she was about to leave the Court,
crowds of those present gathered round, and gave her their sincere
congratulations.
Among these were the Emperor Nicholas of Russia, and the newly-crowned
Emperor of France, for that country having grown tired of a republic,
imitated America in this respect.
Even Prince Osbert, the cousin of Felicitas, offered Mercia his
congratulations; but not an atom of sympathy was expressed for the
absent Emperor, though many sincerely pitied his wife.
The Empress of Russia, not satisfied with mere hand-shaking, kissed
Mercia warmly, as she exclaimed—‘Noble Mercia, then thou wouldst not
accept the offer of Felicitas, and discrown my dear daughter—thou
wearest already the brightest crown, that of pure virtue. May God ever
bless, and reward thee.’
‘I’ll make Felicitas pay for this!’ muttered the Emperor Nicholas to
himself, ‘his conduct both as an Emperor and husband is disgraceful.’
‘There is no occasion for thy Majesty to trouble further in the matter,’
observed Swami, ‘thy son-in-law hath received his lesson, and will
prove, in time, a model husband. Parental responsibilities will make him
the most virtuous of monarchs living.’
‘Then my daughter will have children?’ inquired the Empress eagerly.
‘Even so,’ answered Swami, smiling, as he turned to lead Mercia away to
her carriage.
All along the drive to Greenwich the people took up the glad shout of
triumph; but upon Mercia’s arrival there, who was accompanied by Swami
and Geometrus only, for Sadbag had been carried off by his own political
and personal friends, she found that handsome triumphal arches had been
erected to do her honour, in loyal anticipation of her victory.
Mercia’s eyes filled at this warm tribute of the people’s affection;
while Swami pressed her hand and whispered that this was as nothing
compared with what awaited her in the very near future. Geometrus, in
the meantime, overhearing what was said, looked perfectly petrified with
astonishment, as each feature of the situation was developed.
As the events of the day unfolded themselves his mind became almost a
whirligig of wonder and excitement. He could not understand the presence
of Swami at all, at the trial; for he knew that up to then Mercia was
entirely unacquainted with him. But what appeared to him as misplaced as
it was unwelcome, was the part Swami was taking in the ovation, by whose
personality he felt himself completely overshadowed.
‘Who is this Anglo-Indian that I should have to play second fiddle to
him?’ thought Geometrus to himself, ‘why does Mercia occupy herself with
_him_?’
From the talking-machine he had learnt to his infinite joy, of Mercia’s
love for him; it was the first intimation he had received of her
affection, but before he could drink in the delight of his unexpected
bliss, it was melting away like a dream.
All her attention was engrossed by this Swami. When she was not engaged
giving her graceful acknowledgments to the enthusiastic crowd, her eyes
were looking into his with that soul-worship, which women accord, when
they have met their ideal.
‘She never gazed into my face with that fervour,’ he thought, ‘she loves
him, else how could she be so devoted? I have loved her for years, and
this is the reward of my constancy; in one day a stranger has ousted me.
This comes of over-cautiousness; had I been reckless of consequences,
Mercia would have been mine by this time, made safe by bonds of wedlock.
But I hesitated, believing her position had greater charms for her than
matrimony. And now—well, no one can bottom a woman’s heart, or gather
its meaning. I imagined I was consulting her best interests when I
refrained from declaring my love, leaving over the matter for time to
put things right. And this is the result; a stranger has accomplished
more in one day than I with all my years of opportunity. It is
inexplicable.
‘However, I’ll wait no longer, this night shall conclude the matter. Ere
another day elapses I will have asked her to share my poor fortunes;
surely we two can meet with appointments as teachers of astronomy and
make a respectable livelihood between us. It isn’t a very brilliant
position to offer, but she will then be mine legally, and no man can
take her from me. My prudence has made me play the fool, so far, but
this night shall I learn my fate. I will delay no longer. Mercia has
told the whole world of her preference for me, how then can she have the
face to refuse me?’
As these thoughts passed through Geometrus’ mind whilst seated near
Swami, the latter looked into his face and remarked impressively—
‘The chances and changes of this mortal life are never ending. They
bring sorrow to one, and joy to another. Strange arrangement this of
Fortune; one moment bestowing good, the next evil. If thou shouldst
regard thyself ill used to-day, learn that a morrow will come when thou
shalt be made content; but not in the manner that is in thine heart at
this moment.’
‘There is _nothing_ that can bring me content, Swami,’ replied Geometrus
bitterly, ‘but that which thou seekest to deprive me of.’
Mercia at this moment was oblivious of the nature of their conversation,
her attention having been engaged by the arrival of friends to
congratulate her.
When the party reached the Observatory Swami expressed his intention of
returning; and as soon as he had assisted Mercia to alight, he conducted
her to her sitting-room.
‘Take a rest, my beloved,’ he whispered softly, ‘it will refresh thee;
to-morrow I will come and stay awhile beside thee; when I trust thy
friend Geometrus will not favour us with his presence. Evidently, by his
dark looks he would fain annihilate me, if that were possible.’
‘Ah, yes,’ returned Mercia, with a sigh and a smile intermixed; ‘we two
must have explanations. That talking-machine has made things awkward for
me. But for that tell-tale instrument I owed him no apologies, seeing
that the nature of our friendship had never been discussed between us.
Since then I have learnt that which the concentrated wisdom of all the
schools could not impart by theory; for it is the realisation and
knowledge of what the poets of all ages have made their universal theme;
but experience only can reveal the reality.’
‘And it is as fresh to us as if utterly unknown hitherto! It is our new
discovery!’ cried Swami in a rapture as he caught her in his arms.
‘But we can’t take out a patent for it!’ Mercia was in the act of
replying, when her words were smothered by the warm kisses pressed upon
her lips.
‘And must we really part?’ exclaimed she, while playfully holding his
hands prisoners.
‘It will seem an eternity till the morrow,’ he murmured, making no
effort to escape.
‘When I sleep I shall dream of thee, Swami,’ and her liquid eyes looked
softly into his.
‘My day dream shuts out the visions of the night; for my happiness is
too great for the waters of Lethe to cover. With thee to concentre my
thought upon, I ask no other refreshment,’ uttered Swami softly.
When fame is won, leisure is lost, Mercia quickly discovered; for no
sooner had Swami left than she found herself surrounded by crowds of
persons who had come to offer their congratulations. Of course the
sincerity of those demonstrative ones was not to be doubted,
nevertheless the visits of a goodly percentage were prompted more by
curiosity to see the woman who might have displaced their Empress, had
she been so minded, and the Divorce Courts sufficiently obliging, than
anything else. Consequently, Mercia had a livelier time of it for
several hours than she was prepared for. People to whom she was a
perfect stranger poured in upon her, until at length fairly wearied out
with the strain she gave orders to admit no more.
As soon as the apartments were fairly cleared of their visitors she sank
down on a sofa exhausted; and was in the act of uttering an exclamation
of thankfulness when Geometrus put in an appearance.
‘May I have a word with thee?’ he asked hesitatingly.
‘To-morrow, Geometrus, won’t it keep till then?’ she said sweetly.
‘No, Mercia, I must know my fate to-night, I cannot wait another day. My
mind is in such a state of perplexity, that to dream of getting sleep is
a folly: I come therefore to sue thee for a good night’s rest, and to be
made happy for all time;’ saying which he took a seat in front of her.
‘And how can I make thee comfortable, Geometrus?’ laughed Mercia gaily.
‘Better take a nerve-soothing tabloid instead of supper, I’ll warrant
that will give thy mind more rest than anything that I can tell thee.’
‘Perhaps it might,’ answered he gloomily.
‘All the same, I would prefer a hearing if thou wilt grant the favour.’
‘Certainly,’ she answered with an assumed airiness of manner, for she
guessed she was about to go through a bad quarter of an hour, ‘now be
reasonable, and I will give this matter my best attention,’ she added.
‘I know I am trespassing upon thy time at an awkward moment,’ he went on
to say with a certain bitterness in his voice, ‘but for all that we will
have it out now. What is the meaning of this fortune-telling fellow
hanging round thee? What does he want dangling after thee?’
‘That is my business,’ answered Mercia, suddenly freezing in her manner
and turning quite haughty, ‘I was not aware that I was answerable to
thee in the choice of my friends.’
At this reproof he reddened, and stammered out—
‘I did not mean to put it that way,—but I want to know what is this
Swami to thee that he should interest himself so greatly in thy
affairs?’
‘He is my intended husband, Geometrus,’ replied Mercia in a low but firm
voice. ‘I mean to give up my post and marry. He is the only man for whom
I could make this sacrifice, as I love my profession greatly. But I love
Swami better, and intend to share my fortunes with him whatever they
be.’
‘And what is to become of me?’ inquired Geometrus while his face turned
deathly white; ‘I thought the phonograph said thou didst love me. What
am I to think? Was it Swami that filled thy thought when Felicitas asked
the same question?’
‘Of course not,’ rejoined Mercia candidly, ‘I was unacquainted with him
when the Emperor sought me. But I will endeavour to explain it;
otherwise thou mightest arrive at false conclusions.
‘I formed a sincere regard for thee, Geometrus, in the course of these
five years that we have worked together; and this regard, owing partly
to thy devotion to me, and partly from a sense of loneliness, the result
of my necessarily solitary mode of life, grew into such a tender
affection that I imagined it was what people call love. Consequently,
the notion came into my head that at some time or other—some day in the
distant future, I would marry thee if such continued to be thy desire.
But now all those ideas have been dissipated; my heart has gone through
a complete revolution, for I have met with the man for whom I would
willingly give up everything.
‘I love him better than all the stars in the wide universe! Much as I
delighted to gaze into the Heavens and study with intense interest the
wonders of the Celestial depths, yet he is above them all! He is more to
me than thousands of worlds! He is nearer and dearer than millions of
suns!’ cried Mercia with clasped hands, and eyes alight with warm
enthusiasm.
‘He is certainly _nearer_ if propinquity counts for anything;’ rejoined
Geometrus dryly; ‘of course, then, I am to understand that the man who
has bowled out the whole Universe, has played it low on me: in other
words, I am nowhere _now_?’
‘That is so,’ said Mercia, ‘I now know what love is, for he has taught
me, where thou didst fail. Thou hadst no power to impart this knowledge
to my understanding. When I look back, I see that Friendship only
inspired my thought for thee. I should have continued all my life
searching the Heavens, and worrying out the secrets of Nature had I not
met my Marrow, my Ideal, my Fate!’
‘All three represented in the person of Swami?’ added Geometrus
cynically.
‘Even so,’ answered Mercia, taking no notice of his derisive tone. ‘In a
few days I leave this place, and thou Geometrus canst worthily fill it,
and make thy name illustrious for ever.’
‘And this is to be the end of my dream!’ he burst out in a voice choking
with feeling.
‘The end of one, and the beginning of another,’ returned Mercia, ‘thou
wilt yet be a great man, whom all men will honour. I leave thee a fair
field and a free hand to accomplish this noble ambition.’