THE KING'S FAVOUR.
When it became evident that King Ormund, instead of cutting off
Raymond's head, was treating him like a younger brother, Raymond began
to pluck up spirit. 'Possibly I look like some friend of his,' he
thought; and he resolved to make the most of the mistake, keeping his
eyes open for the first chance of escape.
Meanwhile the King overwhelmed him with attentions, and even insisted
upon his sitting beside him in the ivory chair; and the courtiers who
had to carry this double weight, instead of looking discontented,
smiled as if Raymond had been loading them with benefits instead of
with himself. The procession now swept onward, and the King himself
had hardly more honour than the washerwoman's son. In his wildest
dreams Raymond had never anticipated making such a brilliant entry
into London as this.
And had he given up the idea of going back to Honeymead? Yes; and he
had almost forgotten that there was such a place. The Brindled Cow and
Rosamund were like visions of the past which did not much concern him.
His yellow cap was the thing that most troubled him, for it pained his
head badly. If he had been alone he would have taken it off; but in
such fine company he was unwilling to be seen without the handsomest
part of his attire.
All this time the King had been talking to him in the most
confidential and familiar way imaginable.
'My dear fellow,' he said, 'your arrival is most timely. To-morrow
would have been too late. It is most kind of you.'
'I rejoice to be of service----'
'Service, my friend! Such a word between you and me? Never!
Counsel--support--sympathy--such as one potentate may claim from
another--these I expect from you. But let me explain to you exactly
how the case stands. In the first place, I feel that I am getting
old.'
After saying this the King paused as if for a reply. Raymond had never
known what it was to pay a compliment in his life; but now something
prompted him to say, with a smile and a bow--
'Not at all. Your Majesty is, to all intents and purposes, as young as
I am.'
'Ah, it is very good of you to say that,' sighed his Majesty, looking
highly gratified. 'But I really am old--older than you would suppose;
and, if you can believe it, some of my scoundrelly subjects have said
(behind my back) that I am growing senile--that is the word the
villains use--and they are plotting to dethrone me at ten o'clock
to-morrow morning.'
'A conspiracy?'
'Nothing less. It is announced to take place at Drury Lane Theatre,
and the house is sold, from pit to gallery.'
'Oh! it is only a play, then?' said Raymond, in a relieved tone.
'I don't know what you mean by a play,' returned the King, looking
slightly hurt. 'It takes place on the stage, of course; but it is as
much earnest as anything that goes on in London.'
'Certainly--of course,' said Raymond, anxious not to seem ignorant of
fashionable customs. 'But whom do the conspirators mean to put on the
throne in your stead? Your son?'
'My Assimund, you mean? Well, that is just the point. My son Assimund
is a perfectly harmless young fellow, but--in fact--he is rather too
much so.'
'Too much so?'
'Yes--he is--as I might say--hum!' And the King tapped his forehead
significantly.
'You don't mean------' And Raymond laid his forefinger between his
eyes and then shook it in the air.
'Fact, I assure you.'
'Dear me, how sad!'
'So now you see what I am driving at,' added the King more briskly.
'Well, I hardly--that is----'
'Briefly, then, the part of the usurper has not yet been given out.
But I have reigned fifty years, and, between you and me, I'm tired of
it. This crown of mine'--the King laid his hand upon the diadem he
wore--'often gives me a headache. Ah, I see you understand that.
You've felt the same yourself?'
'Why, something of the sort, I confess,' said Raymond, settling his
yellow cap on his brow.
'Bless you! what monarch has not? But you are young and hearty--you
can stand it. So here is my plan: I decline to submit to force,
because the precedent would be dangerous; but I am willing to
abdicate. That is my counter-move--my rival attraction, as the stage
manager would say. But, if it is to succeed, there is no time to be
lost; the posters must be got out at once.'
'Yes, I agree with you,' said Raymond, who was now quite bewildered.
'I was sure I might count on your aid. It is settled, then. As soon as
we reach town I will arrange with the advertising agent that your name
shall appear upon the bills as my successor in the largest type.'
'I?' cried Raymond, jumping up, and almost oversetting the ivory
chair.
'Bless me! what's the matter? Who else but you?'
Raymond sat down again quite dumb-foundered. He a king! It had been
the ambition of his life, but now that it was so near being realised
he found himself unprepared. Some kinds of good luck are better to
look forward to than to have. However, since it seemed inevitable,
Raymond was bound to put a good face upon it. Probably he would have a
prime minister to give him some hints at starting.
'I shall be happy to make myself of use,' he said politely. 'But I
must tell you that it is some time since I governed a kingdom, and I
may be a little out of practice.'
'Oh, never mind that,' returned the King, stroking his beard. 'In an
absolute monarchy like this the sovereign is responsible to no one. Do
as you like; it saves trouble and expense too.'
Raymond smiled, and tried to look at ease. But he resolved to make one
more effort to get time for looking about him.
'It will not be best, I suppose, to enter upon my duties at once?' he
said. 'The people will have to accustom themselves to the change,
and----'
'Nothing of the sort,' interrupted the King. 'I don't believe in too
much playing to the pit and gallery, especially when the stalls are
inclined to be disorderly. Make your hit with the executioner's axe,
if need be. Don't mince matters--it is better to mince _them_.'
'But are you really so willing to part with your crown? It looks quite
as comfortable as my cap feels,' sighed Raymond. They were now within
sight of the city gates, and he was feeling rather nervous.
'Do you think so? Suppose you try it on?' said the good-natured
monarch, taking his crown off. 'Come, off with your cap!'
Raymond doffed his cap, thrust it into the front of his doublet, and
put out his hands to take the crown which the King held towards him.
But as he did so he noticed a singular change come over his Majesty's
heretofore jolly visage. The eyes of the venerable potentate opened
wider and wider until they were broader than they were long; his
forehead wrinkled, and his nostrils expanded. His face from red became
crimson, and from crimson purple; and he shook all over.
'Who are you, fellow?' he roared out in a terrible voice. 'How did you
get up here? Ho! guards! seize this insolent varlet and cut off his
head this moment!'
There was no time to think twice. Raymond sprang to his feet,
overturning the ivory chair as he did so, so that his transparent
Majesty King Ormund fell off to the platform, which trembled at the
shock. The fifty courtiers who supported it staggered and lost their
footing, and the whole affair came to the ground with a tremendous
crash, landing the King in a mud-puddle, and splashing his transparent
stockings all over with mire.
Taking advantage of the dismay and confusion thus brought about,
Raymond dodged between the legs of a gigantic guard who was on the
point of clutching him, butted his head into the stomach of a second,
who in falling upset a third, over whom a fourth and fifth stumbled;
and, having by this time got to the brink of the broad and deep ditch
beside the road, he crossed it with a flying leap, plunged into the
bushes on the further side, and made such good use of his legs that in
two or three minutes he was beyond the reach of pursuit.