CHAPTER XXV._Kophetua the Thirteenth

THE CROWN OF KISSES.

"And when the wedding day was come,

The king commanded strait."

The events of the next few days need not be told at any great length.

Indeed, they belong more properly to the general history of Oneiria than

to the foregoing episode, and are certainly a little too tragic to be

pleasant reading.

The last day of Kophetua's celibate reign began with a formidable riot.

M. de Tricotrin had put the second string to his bow. He was a true

Parisian, and for political purposes a mob held the next place in his

esteem to a woman. "The two things resemble each other closely," he was

fond of saying. "Both are impulsive, fickle, and easily cajoled. Any one

who can manage the one can control the other." He regarded himself as in

full enjoyment of this capacity, and on the desertion of his daughter he

at once looked out for a mob to fill the gap she had left in his ranks.

Within the Liberties of St. Lazarus he found an organised rabble ready

to his hand. In his character of intelligent foreigner he had already

visited them several times under a safe conduct from the "Emperor," and

had at once recognised their capabilities as a revolutionary engine.

At the present crisis he lost no time in renewing his previous

acquaintances, and found that the Jacobin seedlings which, like the

Laird of Dumbiedykes, he was "aye stickin' in," as a matter of habit,

wherever he went, had flourished exceedingly. They had been growing

while he was sleeping. He found himself in the midst of a vigorous crop

of rods for the chastisement of his rival and the cleansing of the

precincts which he meant to be sacred to himself. Furthermore, he found

out Penelophon's father, and through his agency was able to redouble the

energy of his machinery by stirring up a _Jehad_ against Kophetua and

Turbo for their profanation of the Liberties.

The result of his diplomacy was that, on the morning upon which the

Convention Parliament was to meet to vote the new constitution, the

beggars poured like a flood from the Liberties and took possession of

the House. Under the Marquis's direction they speedily set about

barricading every approach to it, and when that work was well in hand

the Frenchman gave the word to march upon the Tower and the Palace. On

the way he was met by Turbo at the head of the royal watch; but a

vigorous volley of stones and a roaring rush of the beggars put those

purely ornamental officials to flight, and it was with difficulty that

Turbo escaped to the palace.

As it was, he received an ugly wound in the head from some rude missile;

yet never for a moment did he lose his presence of mind, and with

admirable coolness he set about the defence of his quarters, till the

gendarmes, to whom at the first alarm a summons had been sent, should

arrive. Meanwhile the most determined assaults followed one upon the

other from the beggars. Showers of missiles crashed through the windows

of the palace, and only ceased while ladders were set up for an

attempted entry by the unprotected first floor. Again and again they

were hurled down, and again and again a hail of stones and potsherds

drove Turbo and his desperate followers from the windows. Nothing seemed

to daunt the fury of the beggars, or to abate for a moment the awful

clamour of the assault. The rioters were long past the Marquis's

control; and when a number of the wildest were seen dragging straw and

faggots to fire the building, he knew it was useless to thwart them; so

he rushed into the thickest of the fray to inspire them to new efforts.

A pile of inflammable materials soon rose against the palace; torches

began to smoke on the outskirts of the howling mob, when suddenly a

ringing cheer rose above all. The gendarmes were upon them. A roar from

a hundred carbines drowned the yells of the maddened throng. The

bullets tore through the swaying masses, and the bright blades of the

cavalry glittered and grew red, as time after time they hurled

themselves upon the mass, and wheeled and charged again. The beggars

were helpless and terrified with the ping and thud of the bullets to

which they were entirely unaccustomed. Assaulted from two sides, they

were crowded into helplessness. The Marquis could do nothing. He was

squeezed a hopeless prisoner against the faggots. The mob was

leaderless, and now carbines began to flash and crack from the upper

floors of the palace. Window after window was occupied by protruding

muzzles, and a rain of bullets fell on the devoted mass below. The

slaughter was fearful. The panic-stricken throng screamed for quarter;

but Turbo looked on grimly with set lips, and would not utter a word to

allay the carnage. Thinner and more frantic grew the struggling herd,

till, in a last despairing frenzy, they hurled themselves upon one

detachment of the breathless cavalry, and, with fearful loss, burst

through their ranks. A rush for the Liberties followed, regardless of

the sabres that charged through and through the flying groups. The

townsfolk, who had remained secure at home while the danger lasted, now

poured out to fall upon the helpless outcasts, and the slaughter never

ceased till the last of the bleeding remnant was safe within the narrow

tortuous streets behind the beggars' gate.

Turbo had triumphed. On a ghastly heap of dead and dying beggars lay the

Marquis de Tricotrin, with a bullet through his head. The Chancellor

laughed to think what success after all he had reaped from his idea of

concentrating the gendarmerie. He had lost his love, but he had gained a

crown. After rapidly giving orders for blockading the beggars within the

Liberties, and furnishing guards for the House, he sat down to consider

the speech he would deliver to secure his election as head of the State.

But his brain ached and throbbed, his wound seemed on fire, and he could

not think. He sent for a surgeon, who insisted on bleeding him, and told

him it would be certain death for him to attend the sitting of

Parliament. He assured the Chancellor that his wound had produced

concussion of the brain, and that he could not answer for the

consequences if he exposed himself to the excitement of the approaching

debate. Turbo knew the doctor was right, and felt only too acutely that

he could not do justice to himself even if he attended the House. So he

consented to remain at the palace and leave his cause in the hands of

his lieutenants.

In due course the Convention met under the presidency of General

Dolabella. In spite of Turbo's enforced absence, the Kallists

anticipated an easy victory, for the plain reason that there was no

candidate but their own in the field. It was then to the surprise of

everybody that Count Kora moved an amendment in favour of the

Queen-mother. A scene of the wildest confusion ensued. Every one spoke

at once, while the General exhausted himself in crying for order. Before

noon it was understood that seventeen challenges had been given, and

three of them fought in the courtyard. The mid-day adjournment alone

allayed the storm, and the Kallikagathists took advantage of it to place

a common-sense motion on the paper. Common-sense was their rarest

treasure. It was their political and social panacea. Their faith in it

was profound and, indeed, astonishing, as their specific was usually

found to be compounded of the weakest elements of the other two parties'

prescriptions. In the present crisis they did not belie their

reputation. In dignified and well-restrained terms their motion

recommended an address to the Queen-mother and the Chancellor, humbly

requesting them to marry and rule the State as King and Queen by the

advice of the Parliament.

More furious than ever raged the storm as this cross-wind burst upon it;

and, as from time to time news of the progress of the debate was brought

to Turbo at the palace, he began to dwell strangely on Cromwell and his

files of musketeers. But before he could make up his mind to take the

violent course on which he was thinking, the door which led from the

private garden staircase was suddenly burst open. Turbo started to his

feet. A wild throb of his heart sent the blood rushing to his reeling

head, and, glaring like a madman, he stood transfixed, with the sight of

Kophetua and Penelophon hand in hand.

They, too, were no less astonished. Early that morning, together with

Captain Pertinax and Mlle de Tricotrin, they had secretly reached the

old hunting lodge in the park. There the gendarme went out and gathered

news of what was passing; on his return the Kings resolve was soon

taken. Mlle de Tricotrin was conducted to her own house that she might

change her dress for the coming ceremony. Pertinax was her escort, as it

was considered necessary that the King should not run any risk of his

presence being discovered till the last moment. Kophetua, therefore,

undertook to see Penelophon to a place of safety. He could think of no

better refuge than his own library, which he could reach by his private

way. It was no wonder then that both were thunderstruck at the sight

which met their eyes as they emerged from the dark stairway.

The splendid room was literally wrecked. Every fragile thing in it was

smashed to pieces. The floor was scattered with stones and potsherds. A

heavy missile had struck the old knight's trophy, and his arms lay in a

heap on the ground. The picture of the King and the beggar-maid was torn

and riddled past recognition. But most shocking of all was the glaring,

ghastly hideousness of Turbo in the midst. His face was pale as death,

and rendered horrible beyond expression by the bloodstained cloth that

concealed his forehead.

It was not long that they stared at each other thus. Turbo's face began

to work malignly, and at last he burst out into a demoniac scream, as he

saw the sweet fruit of his lifelong scheming about to be snatched from

his teeth.

"Ah!" he cried, with terrible oaths, "you have her still--my own little

love that you stole! You think you will steal the crown from me as well.

With my own little love, whom you stole, you will steal it. Ha! ha! you

think that? But I will tear my little love in shreds first. I will tear

her, I will rend her, since my love can do no more. You think you have

found a pretty head to wear the 'Crown of Kisses.' I tell you the

people's kiss shall fall on a face that is dead, and you shall have a

corpse for a Queen!"

With another scream he rushed upon Penelophon, who stood rooted to the

spot with terror. But in the midst of Turbo's frenzied outburst Kophetua

had snatched up the old knight's rapier which lay at his feet, and as

the mad Chancellor sprang upon his prey he fell back with an agonised

scream. The long glittering blade had pierced him through and through,

and he rolled over amongst the stones and potsherds, dead.

The tragedy stirred into a godlike flow all the heroism of Kophetua.

With the reeking rapier in his hand he felt he could face the whole

world; and, striding from the polluted chamber, still holding Penelophon

by the hand, he descended the great staircase to meet the guard who were

timorously approaching to ascertain the meaning of the unearthly sounds

in the library.

The authority of Kophetua's presence was irresistible. In a very short

time Penelophon was safe with a guard of the palace watch; and the King,

mounted on a fresh horse, and followed by a troop of gendarmes, was on

the way to the Marquis's house.

Mlle de Tricotrin's toilette was complete when the King arrived, and she

tripped down to him entirely concealed under a splendid mantilla of

white lace. A led horse was ready for her. The King lifted her upon it.

The cavalcade once more started, and, after threading its way through

the corpses and groaning heaps of the wounded beggars, that sometimes

almost blocked the way, they reached the courtyard of the House.

Two prominent members were fencing furiously before the portico, and it

seemed clear the Kings approach was unsuspected. One officious

chamberlain had hurried off unbidden to announce it; but so wild was

the confusion and excitement within that he could get no one to listen

to him. No wonder then that the whole throng was struck dumb and the

uproar hushed as in a voice of thunder the King was heard demanding in

constitutional form admission to the House. Without waiting for an

answer he pushed his way through the astonished crowd that covered the

floor. In his right hand he still held the old knight's rapier, red with

Turbo's blood; in the other he led the veiled white figure of the woman

who accompanied him. Awed by the mystery and majesty of the King's

entrance, the members all fell back, and Kophetua and his companion

ascended the dais, where Dolabella rose to receive them.

For a little while the King stood, sword in hand, proudly surveying the

murmuring throng beneath him, and waiting for complete silence. But the

murmurs only increased. A whisper was spreading from member to member

that the King had arrived at the palace with a ragged beggar-girl, and

meant to insult the nation and deride the constitution by making her his

Queen at the last moment. Some of the members in the back rows began

crying, "Long live the Republic!" and others who were nearer called out,

"Privilege! privilege!" At last some one dared to shout, "Down with the

beggar King and his light-o'-love." Then a new fire flashed from

Kophetua's eyes, and, swinging aloft his bloodstained rapier, with a

commanding gesture he thundered out, "Silence for your King!" In a

moment the assembly was hushed, as though the wings of death had passed

over it, and the impassioned voice of the angered monarch rose solemnly

out of the silence.

"Traitors!" he cried. "Behold the blood of a traitor. The sword of the

old knight has this hour made new its youth with the blood of your

leader, and I am strong in its strength. Beware how you teach it to

thirst again; for if it cries to me for traitors' blood, by the

splendour of God I will give it drink! But what is the need? To you, as

to me, our ancient laws are sacred. By them I am still your King, and in

devout subjection to them I bring you a Queen to crown. Behold her!"

So saying, he swept the white veil from the figure at his side, and a

strange low murmur passed over the throng, as though some witchcraft had

struck them dumb. However the more violent members had been tempted to

resent the Kings threatening speech, the vision which was suddenly

flashed upon them paralysed every other thought. Mlle de Tricotrin's

education had not been such as to make her under-estimate the importance

of the part she had to play at the supreme moment. It has been said it

was the custom of the country for the would-be queen to be presented to

the House armed with every device that could enhance her charms. Mlle

de Tricotrin knew the custom well, and took advantage of the opportunity

the King had afforded her of doing justice to his forethought. Kophetua

had had every confidence in the personal impression she would make; but

even he started and held his breath to look on the figure he had just

unveiled. For a moment he was shocked that his wife should so have made

herself an eye-feast for the gaping throng, but his pain gave place

immediately to pleasure to see how her beauty triumphed.

Indeed, it was dazzling beyond expression. Everything about her

voluptuous costumes to which the prudes had objected before was this day

boldly exaggerated. The family diamonds, to which through all his

troubles the Marquis had clung, shone upon her white arms and breast,

and flashed out from her luxuriant hair. The soft thin robe that wrapped

her seemed meant to display rather than to hide. As she raised her

beautiful eyes, that they might see her loveliness to the full, a

burning flush overspread her face, and seemed to redouble her beauty. It

was more than the strength and boldness to which she had trusted could

endure. A sudden shame to think how she stood there alone, exposed

before that throng of men, overwhelmed her. Too late she learned how

Kophetua's love had changed her. The devouring eyes of the ravished

throng were piercing her like knives. She began to tremble violently,

and Kophetua seized her hand.

"Kneel," he whispered, "and be brave a little while longer."

A renewed murmur of admiration arose, as with matchless grace she knelt

on the cushion which Kophetua had pushed to her feet. The new pose, and

the accomplished sweep she gave her drapery as she assumed it, inflamed

the assembly anew. A confused murmur arose; and in the midst General

Dolabella, unable any longer to control himself, sprang from his chair,

clasped the kneeling beauty in his arms, and kissed her heartily on the

lips.

"Rise!" he cried, beside himself with excitement at the prospect of an

end to his political anxieties, and the intoxication of the salute.

"Rise, my dear young lady, crowned with a people's kiss!"

She sprang from his embrace to her lover's arms, and, hiding her face on

his breast, burst into tears. In a moment he had veiled his treasure

again from further profanation, and even as he did so the assembly found

voice. The Oneirians, it has been said, were an imaginative people, and

the scene they had just witnessed took them by storm. With one accord

they shouted, "Long live Kophetua and his Queen of Kisses!" nor did they

cease till every man of them had filed by to claim his privilege of

saluting the new Queen's hand. The ceremony was long, but Héloise

endured it well. For, with Kophetua's arm about her, she soon recovered

her courage; and, unveiling her blushing face, she looked so radiant

with happiness, and smiled with such ravishing sweetness on each member

as he came, that there was not one who would not there and then have

died for her sake.

In a triumph of loyal enthusiasm, the King and Queen-elect rode back to

the palace, and there were married in the chapel. The ceremony was

necessarily a quiet one. It was attended only by the great officers of

state and the personal adherents of the bride and bridegroom. Pertinax

was there in his new capacity of Gentleman of the King's Bedchamber, and

Penelophon radiant and happy to think she was chief Bower-lady to the

Queen.

After the ceremony, when Pertinax attended the King to his privy

chamber, he announced that he had a report to make. He had taken the

liberty, he said, while the King was at the House, of leading his own

troop of gendarmes into the precincts of St. Lazarus, to complete the

work for which he had been originally summoned.

"I discovered the Beggar Emperor," he said, "on his throne in the

Guildhall, and hanged him in front of it. I trust your majesty will

forgive me. He behaved disgracefully to my wife."

Kophetua winced; he felt he had deserved hanging on the same charge,

but consoled himself to think how devoted a substitute Penelophon had

found, and smilingly commended his favourite's zeal.

Captain Pertinax had not reported the whole of his proceedings; for when

Penelophon entered her mistress's boudoir, to which Héloise had been

conducted in state, the Queen noticed she wore a strange ornament of

gold upon her head, and asked her what it was.

"It is the Beggar Emperor's crown," she said, looking down and blushing.

"But where did you get it from?" asked the Queen.

"My Pertinax took it and gave it me," answered Penelophon; and then with

a shy smile went on, "He said if Trecenito's wife were a Queen, his

bride was worthy to be an Empress. So he crowned me with the Emperor's

crown; and--and he crowned me with kisses too."

"Then you love him," cried the Queen, looking up fondly at her handmaid.

"He is very kind," said Penelophon; "but while you are here for me to

love I think I can never love another."

Then Héloise felt a guilty pang like the King, and resolved to deserve

the measureless love of the two hearts she had won.

Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to Her Majesty,

_at the Edinburgh University Press_.