The Warden entered at this moment: and close behind him came the Lord
Chancellor, a little flushed and out of breath, and adjusting his wig,
which appeared to have been dragged partly off his head.
“But where is my precious child?” my Lady enquired, as the four took
their seats at the small side-table devoted to ledgers and bundles and
bills.
“He left the room a few minutes ago with the Lord Chancellor,” the
Sub-Warden briefly explained.
“Ah!” said my Lady, graciously smiling on that high official. “Your
Lordship has a very taking way with children! I doubt if any one could
gain the ear of my darling Uggug so quickly as you can!” For an entirely
stupid woman, my Lady's remarks were curiously full of meaning, of which
she herself was wholly unconscious.
The Chancellor bowed, but with a very uneasy air. “I think the Warden
was about to speak,” he remarked, evidently anxious to change the
subject.
But my Lady would not be checked. “He is a clever boy,” she continued
with enthusiasm, “but he needs a man like your Lordship to draw him
out!”
The Chancellor bit his lip, and was silent. He evidently feared that,
stupid as she looked, she understood what she said this time, and was
having a joke at his expense. He might have spared himself all anxiety:
whatever accidental meaning her words might have, she herself never
meant anything at all.
“It is all settled!” the Warden announced, wasting no time over
preliminaries. “The Sub-Wardenship is abolished, and my brother is
appointed to act as Vice-Warden whenever I am absent. So, as I am going
abroad for a while, he will enter on his new duties at once.”
“And there will really be a Vice after all?” my Lady enquired.
“I hope so!” the Warden smilingly replied.
My Lady looked much pleased, and tried to clap her hands: but you might
as well have knocked two feather-beds together, for any noise it made.
“When my husband is Vice,” she said, “it will be the same as if we had a
hundred Vices!”
“Hear, hear!” cried the Sub-Warden.
“You seem to think it very remarkable,” my Lady remarked with some
severity, “that your wife should speak the truth!”
“No, not remarkable at all!” her husband anxiously explained. “Nothing
is remarkable that you say, sweet one!”
My Lady smiled approval of the sentiment, and went on. “And am I
Vice-Wardeness?”
“If you choose to use that title,” said the Warden: “but 'Your
Excellency' will be the proper style of address. And I trust that both
'His Excellency' and 'Her Excellency' will observe the Agreement I have
drawn up. The provision I am most anxious about is this.” He unrolled a
large parchment scroll, and read aloud the words “'item, that we will be
kind to the poor.' The Chancellor worded it for me,” he added, glancing
at that great Functionary. “I suppose, now, that word 'item' has some
deep legal meaning?”
“Undoubtedly!” replied the Chancellor, as articulately as he could with
a pen between his lips. He was nervously rolling and unrolling several
other scrolls, and making room among them for the one the Warden had
just handed to him. “These are merely the rough copies,” he explained:
“and, as soon as I have put in the final corrections--” making a great
commotion among the different parchments, “--a semi-colon or two that I
have accidentally omitted--” here he darted about, pen in hand, from one
part of the scroll to another, spreading sheets of blotting-paper over
his corrections, “all will be ready for signing.”
“Should it not be read out, first?” my Lady enquired.
“No need, no need!” the Sub-Warden and the Chancellor exclaimed at the
same moment, with feverish eagerness.
“No need at all,” the Warden gently assented. “Your husband and I have
gone through it together. It provides that he shall exercise the full
authority of Warden, and shall have the disposal of the annual revenue
attached to the office, until my return, or, failing that, until Bruno
comes of age: and that he shall then hand over, to myself or to Bruno as
the case may be, the Wardenship, the unspent revenue, and the
contents of the Treasury, which are to be preserved, intact, under his
guardianship.”
All this time the Sub-Warden was busy, with the Chancellor's help,
shifting the papers from side to side, and pointing out to the Warden
the place whew he was to sign. He then signed it himself, and my Lady
and the Chancellor added their names as witnesses.
“Short partings are best,” said the Warden. “All is ready for my
journey. My children are waiting below to see me off” He gravely kissed
my Lady, shook hands with his brother and the Chancellor, and left the
room.
{Image...'What a game!'}
The three waited in silence till the sound of wheels announced that the
Warden was out of hearing: then, to my surprise, they broke into peals
of uncontrollable laughter.
“What a game, oh, what a game!” cried the Chancellor. And he and the
Vice-Warden joined hands, and skipped wildly about the room. My Lady was
too dignified to skip, but she laughed like the neighing of a horse, and
waved her handkerchief above her head: it was clear to her very limited
understanding that something very clever had been done, but what it was
she had yet to learn.
“You said I should hear all about it when the Warden had gone,” she
remarked, as soon as she could make herself heard.
“And so you shall, Tabby!” her husband graciously replied, as he removed
the blotting-paper, and showed the two parchments lying side by side.
“This is the one he read but didn't sign: and this is the one he signed
but didn't read! You see it was all covered up, except the place for
signing the names--”
“Yes, yes!” my Lady interrupted eagerly, and began comparing the two
Agreements.
“'Item, that he shall exercise the authority of Warden, in the Warden's
absence.' Why, that's been changed into 'shall be absolute governor
for life, with the title of Emperor, if elected to that office by the
people.' What! Are you Emperor, darling?”
“Not yet, dear,” the Vice-Warden replied. “It won't do to let this paper
be seen, just at present. All in good time.”
My Lady nodded, and read on. “'Item, that we will be kind to the poor.'
Why, that's omitted altogether!”
“Course it is!” said her husband. “We're not going to bother about the
wretches!”
“Good,” said my Lady, with emphasis, and read on again. “'Item, that the
contents of the Treasury be preserved intact.' Why, that's altered into
'shall be at the absolute disposal of the Vice-Warden'! Well, Sibby,
that was a clever trick! All the Jewels, only think! May I go and put
them on directly?”
“Well, not just yet, Lovey,” her husband uneasily replied. “You see the
public mind isn't quite ripe for it yet. We must feel our way. Of course
we'll have the coach-and-four out, at once. And I'll take the title of
Emperor, as soon as we can safely hold an Election. But they'll hardly
stand our using the Jewels, as long as they know the Warden's alive. We
must spread a report of his death. A little Conspiracy--”
“A Conspiracy!” cried the delighted lady, clapping her hands. “Of all
things, I do like a Conspiracy! It's so interesting!”
The Vice-Warden and the Chancellor interchanged a wink or two. “Let
her conspire to her heart's content!” the cunning Chancellor whispered.
“It'll do no harm!”
“And when will the Conspiracy--”
“Hist!', her husband hastily interrupted her, as the door opened, and
Sylvie and Bruno came in, with their arms twined lovingly round each
other--Bruno sobbing convulsively, with his face hidden on his sister's
shoulder, and Sylvie more grave and quiet, but with tears streaming down
her cheeks.
“Mustn't cry like that!” the Vice-Warden said sharply, but without any
effect on the weeping children. “Cheer 'em up a bit!” he hinted to my
Lady.
“Cake!” my Lady muttered to herself with great decision, crossing the
room and opening a cupboard, from which she presently returned with two
slices of plum-cake. “Eat, and don't cry!” were her short and simple
orders: and the poor children sat down side by side, but seemed in no
mood for eating.
For the second time the door opened--or rather was burst open, this
time, as Uggug rushed violently into the room, shouting “that old
Beggars come again!”
“He's not to have any food--” the Vice-warden was beginning, but the
Chancellor interrupted him. “It's all right,” he said, in a low voice:
“the servants have their orders.”
“He's just under here,” said Uggug, who had gone to the window, and was
looking down into the court-yard.
“Where, my darling?” said his fond mother, flinging her arms round the
neck of the little monster. All of us (except Sylvie and Bruno, who
took no notice of what was going on) followed her to the window. The old
Beggar looked up at us with hungry eyes. “Only a crust of bread, your
Highness!” he pleaded.
{Image...'Drink this!'}
He was a fine old man, but looked sadly ill and worn. “A crust of bread
is what I crave!” he repeated. “A single crust, and a little water!”
“Here's some water, drink this!”
Uggug bellowed, emptying a jug of water over his head.
“Well done, my boy!” cried the Vice-Warden.
“That's the way to settle such folk!”
“Clever boy!”, the Wardeness chimed in. “Hasn't he good spirits?”
“Take a stick to him!” shouted the Vice-Warden, as the old Beggar shook
the water from his ragged cloak, and again gazed meekly upwards.
“Take a red-hot poker to him!” my Lady again chimed in.
Possibly there was no red-hot poker handy: but some sticks were
forthcoming in a moment, and threatening faces surrounded the poor old
wanderer, who waved them back with quiet dignity. “No need to break my
old bones,” he said. “I am going. Not even a crust!”
“Poor, poor old man!” exclaimed a little voice at my side, half choked
with sobs. Bruno was at the window, trying to throw out his slice of
plum-cake, but Sylvie held him back.
“He shalt have my cake!” Bruno cried, passionately struggling out of
Sylvie's arms.
“Yes, yes, darling!” Sylvie gently pleaded. “But don't throw it out!
He's gone away, don't you see? Let's go after him.” And she led him
out of the room, unnoticed by the rest of the party, who were wholly
absorbed in watching the old Beggar.
The Conspirators returned to their seats, and continued their
conversation in an undertone, so as not to be heard by Uggug, who was
still standing at the window.
“By the way, there was something about Bruno succeeding to the
Wrardenship,” said my Lady. “How does that stand in the new Agreement?”
The Chancellor chuckled. “Just the same, word for word,” he said, “with
one exception, my Lady. Instead of 'Bruno,' I've taken the liberty to
put in--” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “to put in 'Uggug,' you
know!”
“Uggug, indeed!” I exclaimed, in a burst of indignation I could no
longer control. To bring out even that one word seemed a gigantic
effort: but, the cry once uttered, all effort ceased at once: a sudden
gust swept away the whole scene, and I found myself sitting up, staring
at the young lady in the opposite corner of the carriage, who had now
thrown back her veil, and was looking at me with an expression of amused
surprise.