Inwardly, I was a mass of nerves. I had waited so long to hear all I
was now to be told; I felt strangely nervous, as though evil was coming.
How would the revelations affect my life?
"I think you had better speak, Count," said my mother.
"One minute," I said. "Tell me your name first, please, Mr. Smith."
"Count von Zeula."
"Thank you." I nodded, well satisfied, for the name was well known to
me. Many things had been done for Rudarlia, by men bearing that name,
during some hundreds of years.
"I shall want all your attention, Victor, as what I have to tell you may
come as a shock, and first I must relate a little story, a story which
at the time of its happening was in everybody's mouth. It is a story of
misery.
"Twenty years or so ago, a good King sat upon the throne of Rudarlia; he
was loved by the greater part of his subjects, and in return he
dedicated his life to their welfare, whole-heartedly and devotedly.
"Unfortunately, there were men, nobles, who found that his rule was
injurious to their interests, these interests being the right to fill
their exchequers from the pockets of the lower classes.
"They conspired with the next heir to the throne, who was more to their
liking.
"Then the King married, and his wife gave birth to a son, amid the
joyful acclamations of the nation.
"The conspirators redoubled their activity. They bought over a few
officers, and some hundreds of the private soldiers. They waited a
favourable opportunity, working secretly all the while; then raised a
scare of war. The loyal officers in immediate attendance on their
Majesties were sent away. The King reviewed a regiment, an assassin
shot him dead."
Mr. Smith brushed a hand across his eyes, was silent for a moment, and
then continued:
"That night a cry was raised that justice had been done, for they swore
the dead King had meant to betray them to their fancied enemies.
"The next step was to incite the lowest class of the people, urging them
to attack the King's Palace where the Queen and her child lay. Sweeping
into the Royal apartments, they shot them both, presumably; then,
frightened at their own atrocity, they ran away. The next day, Ivan was
proclaimed King; he had been waiting just over the border.
"A rumour got abroad that some miscreant had set fire to the bedchamber
of the Queen, when she had been murdered. This was not so--it was I who
set the bed on fire to burn the bodies on it."
"My God!" I said.
"They, however, were not the remains of the Queen and her child, the
King, but those of a groom's wife and offspring, whose lives were
unfortunately sacrificed to save the Royal Mother and the baby King. No
one looked too closely into the matter, a few of the royal jewels were
there, and the Queen's clothing, also the charred bodies; but the Queen
herself and her child were in safety."
"Is the child alive?" I cried breathlessly.
"He is," said Mr. Smith gravely.
"And you are working for him. Oh, thank God, I can see the way clearly
now; let me do something to help."
"Eh?"
"Ever since I first went to Rudarlia, I have been trying to find some
way out, and could discover no plan to work on, for Ivan's heir, they
say, is as bad as he is--but now--a King of Merlin's blood. Oh, thank
God! Tell me the groom's name, is he alive?" In my excitement I had
risen and was bending over him.
I looked into his eyes as his face was raised to mine; they were full of
tears.
"His name, Victor, is Bauen."
"Bauen--Bauen!--our Bauen?"
"Your Bauen."
"Then why is he here, what does it mean?" I looked at my mother, her
face was buried in her hands.
"It means," said Mr. Smith, rising from his chair, "that you are the
King of Rudarlia; and I, your very humble servant."
He seized my hand and kissed it.
*CHAPTER VI*
"'You are the King of Rudarlia,'" I repeated.
I looked at him blankly, he kept his eyes fixed on mine; at my mother,
her face was buried in her hands, and I saw her shake with sobs; lastly
I turned to Mr. Neville, and to him I held out my hand.
"Tell me that it is not true, tell me-- Oh, my God!--can't you? won't
you say he is joking?" My voice, which was hoarse, cracked with the
strain of keeping from screaming.
"It is true, Victor."
"Then nothing on God's earth shall make me take the throne--nothing--I
swear that I----" I leaned against the table for support.
"Mother--mother, is this what you have kept from me, this awful thing?
Can't one of you speak?--am I to be hurled into a throne?--My God--I
won't, I won't."
I collapsed into a chair, and buried my head in my arms; that this
should have come to me, that my life should be suddenly cropped of its
freedom, that I should be bound hand and foot-- Oh, my God, hadn't
there been some other way to try me?
I looked up, and found that I was crying; damn the tears! I brushed
them away, and caught Mr. Smith's eye; he was looking at me sadly as
though ashamed of my behaviour.
I felt suddenly as though ice had been placed on my spine, and shivered.
Was this the best I could do? My dead stepfather, what would he have
thought? What did Mr. Neville think?
I remembered Colonel von Quarovitch, and his ragged troops. Those other
brave men turned into brigands by oppression. The gathering of
gentlefolk in Mr. Smith's house. Mr. Smith himself, who had planned and
plotted so many years for me. And lastly my mother; what could she be
thinking of her son? I felt Mr. Neville's hand on my shoulder, and gave
a weak little laugh.
"I'm a pretty spectacle for a King," I said quietly, "a most noble and
worthy specimen. Mother dear, look up--it's all over, you shall never
hear another kick from me. And you, Mr. Smith, you acclaimed me as
King. Very well, I will be King; such a King as you may wish--with
God's help--and--and--all of you might forgive me for being such a
rotter."
Mr. Smith seized my hand again and kissed it. Tears were running down
his cheeks; and they were not unmanly. My outbreak had unnerved him,
for he had no doubt seen the edifice of his building fall in ruins
before him; but it had been the sudden relief at hearing my acceptance
which had caused the tears.
"May God bless your Majesty!" he said.
My dear old tutor's arm was round my shoulders, and I heard him murmur:
"My boy, my boy, I am proud of you."