"And what has brought you to London, Nicholas, my friend?" Erlito
asked. "Is it pleasure, or you have perhaps a mission to the English
Government?"
It was the great moment. Reist, too restless to sit down, stood upon
the hearthrug, the angry fire lingering in his eyes, a spot of dull
colour burning still in his cheeks. He had not yet got over the shock
of finding one of the men he most hated and despised in life a guest
in this house of all others.
"Pleasure," he repeated, thoughtfully. "People would call me a
fanatic, yet nevertheless, Ughtred, this is the truth. There is no
pleasure for me outside my country. The life of the European capitals
chokes me. There is a tawdriness about them all, something artificial
and unreal. I do not know how to describe it, but it is there--in
Petersburg, in Paris, in London and Vienna. It is like a gigantic
depression. I seem to become in them a puppet, a shadow walking across
a great stage. Always I am longing to be back in Theos--in Theos where
the winds blow down from the hills, and the faces of the men and women
in the streets are clean with health. Ah, my friend, I know what you
would say. The great cities, too, with their factories and huge
buildings which shut out the sky, they are part of God's earth. The
smoke which stains the heavens comes from the making of useful and
beautiful things. Yet I watch my peasants tilling their little farms,
tending their hillside vineyards, without luxuries, without knowledge
of luxuries, ever light-hearted, contented, strong and healthy as
children of the earth should be. The love of that little strip of land
of theirs is the keynote of their patriotism. It is a passion, a joy
to them. Oh, do you wonder that I think these things are best!"
Erlito's eyes were full of sympathy. His head sank upon his folded
arms. His thoughts travelled backwards. It was so many years ago, yet
he could remember.
"Listen, Nicholas," he said. "I have travelled much more than you. I
have been in many strange countries and seen life under many strange
conditions. But all the while there has been a pain in my heart. I
have found no home. I, too, love Theos! There will come a day when no
sentence of banishment will keep me away."
Reist looked up. The moment had come.
"That day," he said, "may be nearer than you think. Ughtred, I have
left Theos on no slight business. I am here with a mission, and my
mission is to you!"
Erlito's eyes were full of questioning wonder.
"The accursed Republic," Reist continued, "has fallen like a pack of
cards. There is panic in the city and throughout the country. Theos
knows now that she has been deceived and misguided, that she has been
brought to the very verge of ruin. The Powers no longer continue to
assure her of their protection. A sovereign and a Tyrnaus had ever a
claim upon them, not so this bastard and bungling Republic. The city
is full of Russian spies, the Austrians watch us night and day, the
Turks are creeping up even to the Balkans. Rumours of partition have
reached us from the great Cabinets. Ughtred of Tyrnaus, there is only
one man to-day who can save the country, and that man is you."
Erlito dropped his pipe, and leaned forward in his chair.
"Are you mocking me, Reist?" he asked.
"May God forbid," Reist answered, fervently, "that I should speak idle
words upon such a subject. The people of Theos are still brave and
true, and their freedom is as dear to them as life itself. They came
to me, who for long have lived apart, and I have shown them what I
truthfully believe to be their only chance of salvation. You are that
chance, Ughtred. The throne of your fathers is yours if you will have
it. A brave man can seize it, and a brave man can hold it in the teeth
of all Europe, and by your God and for the sake of the blood which is
in your veins, Ughtred of Tyrnaus, I summon you to return with me to
Theos."
Erlito rose slowly up. His cheeks were flushed with excitement.
Reist's appeal had moved him deeply.
"You mean this?" he said. "You mean that you bring me this message
from the people of Theos?"
Reist raised his hand solemnly.
"I mean that on their behalf I, Nicholas of Reist, than whom none has
a better right to speak for their country, offer you the crown of
Theos."
Erlito walked restlessly up and down the little study into which he
had brought his visitor.
"We of Tyrnaus," he said, "are under sentence of perpetual exile."
"It was the illegal sentence of an illegal assembly," Reist answered.
"The voice of the people has revoked it. They bid you forget all else
save that your native land looks to you in her hour of trouble.
Listen. It is no rose-strewn way along which you will pass to your
inheritance. There will be no popular reception, no grand ceremony. We
must travel day and night to Theos, secretly, perhaps even in
disguise. You must be crowned King in the Palace the moment we arrive
there. Secretly I have already called together the army, for the
moment the news is known there will be a storm. There are Russians and
Austrian secret agents in Theos, each working for their own ends. They
believe that I have gone to Vienna and Petersburg to beg for the
intercession of the Powers. Meanwhile the Turkish dogs are creeping up
the Balkans. They are gathered around our country, Ughtred, like
wreckers waiting for the ship to break up. It is for you to steer that
ship into safe waters."
There was a long silence. Erlito was standing with his elbow upon the
mantelpiece, looking into the fire. In his heart were many emotions,
in his face a strange light. A new world had been opened up before
him. He saw great things moving across the vista of the future. No
longer then need he brood over an empty life, or bewail the idle sword
of a gentleman of fortune. Here was stuff enough to make a dozen
careers, a future, successful or unsuccessful, more brilliant than
anything else which he could have conceived. But Reist, who failed to
read his companion's thoughts, was troubled. This prolonged silence
was inexplicable to him.
"You do not hesitate?" he asked at last.
Erlito laughed and drew himself up.
"You must not think so ill of me as that, Nicholas," he answered.
"Nay, there was no thought of hesitation in my mind. I accept--gladly,
thankfully. Only you must know this. Of soldiering I have learnt a
little, and nothing would make me happier than to lead the men of
Theos into battle. But of statesmanship I know little, and of
kingcraft nothing at all. You must find me faithful advisers. You
yourself must stand at my right hand."
Then Nicholas of Reist drew a long breath, and the cloud passed away
from his face.
"There are still many faithful citizens," he said, "whom we can rally
around us, and I myself--I live only for Theos. Let me tell you this,
for it will give you confidence. It is a soldier for whom the people
are pining. They want no more merchants in high places. They shall see
you, Ughtred of Tyrnaus, in the uniform of their Guards. They shall
hear you give the word of command, they will shout you King--ay, they
will take you into their hearts, this people."
So the hands of the two met in a long, fervent clasp. Erlito embraced
his destiny, and Reist set the seal upon his renunciation.
* * * * *
A King! As Ughtred fastened his white tie before the tiny mirror
upon his dressing-case those lines at the corner of his mouth gave
way. He suddenly burst out laughing. A King! The incongruity of the
thing tickled his sense of humour--he laughed long and heartily. He
looked around him. His bedchamber was tiny, and he had only been
able to afford furniture of the cheapest description. He looked at
the plain rush carpet, the swords and foils which were almost his
sole decoration upon the walls, the humble appointments of his
dressing-table. Everything was scrupulously neat and clean, stern and
soldier-like in simplicity. What a change was before him. From here to
the royal palace of Theos, where a chamberlain would wait upon him
with bended knee, and the small etiquette of a Court would hamper his
every movement. The last few years passed in swift review before him.
He had lived always like a gentleman, but always with a certain amount
of rigid self-denial necessitated by his small income. He had few
acquaintances and fewer friends. The luxury of a West-End club had
been denied to him--fencing and long walks were almost his sole
relaxation. All that he had had to hope for was the breaking out of
some small war in any corner of the world, when his sword and military
experience might give him a chance to follow his profession. He was,
if anything, deficient in imagination, but he had humour enough and to
spare. He laughed softly as he donned his carefully-folded and
well-worn dress-coat, and reflected that this was perhaps the last
dinner which he would eat in such garments with companions of his own
choosing. It was surely a strange turn in the wheel of fortune.