Captain von Landsberg and I set off on our return journey. His face was
as solemn as that of a judge, or as that of a judge should be, for most
of the judges I have known are generally more than willing to see humour
in situations.
Of course it was quite right of him not to show any amusement at the
fact that his King was only a mortal, with the ordinary tendencies of
mankind, and I have no doubt that writers of books on etiquette would
commend him most highly; but I wished that he had been Mr. Neville or
Prince Zeula, for then I could have poured out my soul, and incidentally
bored them horribly.
I wished to speak of my Princess, to rave over her perfections, to force
them to see her as I saw her, to feel indignant if they did not. I
wished them to be there and agree with every wild statement I made,
although all the time I should have known they were laughing at me, and
probably saying to themselves, "Lord, how funny the boy is! does he
imagine that he is the only one who has been in love?"
I daresay, if the truth could be known, Landsberg regarded me as the
staidest lover of his experience, for I sat staring straight in front of
me, hardly smiling, and only addressing a few remarks to him, and those
about such things as crops, cows, or cabbages. He would have changed
his opinion had he but known the wild exhilaration that I felt surge
over me from time to time, and the rose-tinted veil which hung over
those very ordinary subjects of conversation.
We had gone a considerable way before I broached the subject of the
punishment meted out to the writer of the scurrilous article.
I asked him whether he had any idea of the executioner; but he assured
me that all his questions had given him no hint, and he supposed that
among the Bornians there had been some man who had had the necessary
vigour to carry out the chastisement.
As this was the most probable theory, I let the matter stay there
without any wild surmises; but I felt that I should very much have liked
to know who had done it, so that I could in some way reward him.
As soon as we had got a few miles into Rudarlia, I removed the beard
which I had been wearing, and was glad to get rid of it.
It was dark when we reached the Palace; and, after warning my companion
not to mention our trip, I slipped up to my own quarters, where I
delivered myself into my valet's hands. In about an hour I was closeted
with my mother.
First I told her of the article, then about my idea of punishing the
writer, at which she implored me not to, and was only relieved by my
promising to take no steps in the matter. Then I told her that I was
engaged to be married to Irma. Her astonishment was so great that I had
to tell her everything, much to my amusement, for she had not known that
I had left the Palace.
After my mother, I had to send for Prince Zeula, and have it all out
with him. He was so delighted that I feared evil consequences to his
health, and told him so; I believe if he had had his way he would have
ordered bonfires and fireworks.
Lastly I went to Mr. Neville's room, where I knew I should find him
engrossed in the work of some mighty brain. As I expected, he was
there, seated in his favourite chair, sucking at a favourite briar, and
reading hard. I noticed that his hand was slightly bandaged, so after
our usual salutations I said:
"What is the matter with your hand?"
"Nothing much, I knocked some skin off it, and slightly strained one of
my fingers."
"How did you do that?"
"I hit it against something."
"I'm sorry; but look here, can you spare me a few minutes? You will
have to whether you like it or not, so put that beastly, musty old book
down."
He did as I wished, and I sat down near him, filled my own pipe, and
remained silent.
He went on puffing, waiting for me to tell him what I wished to; he knew
that it was no good trying to hurry me, and that I should speak as soon
as I was ready, I do not know why, but it took me some little time to
formulate my sentences; and, when I had, I did not use them, but blurted
out instead:
"I saw Princess Irma to-day. We are going to be married."
"I'm glad, and congratulate you, Victor. Now tell me about it."
Then I began to be eloquent, and poured out all those things I had
wished to say while returning from Sonale. Dear old fellow, he listened
intently just as I had imagined him doing, but his face showed how
pleased he was. I explained for the third time that evening just how it
had occurred, and he said that he had only disgust for the offence,
dismay at my proposed punishment of it, and satisfaction at the ultimate
result. I believe, had he given me the slightest opening, that I should
have gone all over my feelings again; but luckily for him he did not,
only suggesting that as I had had a strenuous day, I had better get some
sleep before morning. His congratulations were so genuine that, as I
said good night, I could not refrain from saying:
"Don't you think I am an infernally lucky chap?"
"I do, every man is who secures a really charming and good woman as a
wife, but I think Her Royal Highness is rather lucky too."
A remark which I deprecated, although it was comforting, especially as
it came from Mr. Neville, for he did not as a rule pay me compliments.
Honestly, however, I think my pleasure was more for Irma's sake than for
any personal pride I may have had.
So I went away from my old tutor quite pleased with everything. All the
three people who had given me so much were delighted; and I was to
become the husband of the sweetest woman in the world. It was hardly
wonderful therefore that I slept like an angel, by which I mean that I
was blest.
I think I was nearer becoming chronically bad-tempered during the next
few months than at any other time in my life. It was so ridiculous that
I should be kept waiting for my bride for so long. I cursed etiquette
of every description, and regretted that I was not living in the middle
ages, when I could have carried her off immediately, or as immediately
as the force I had at my disposal would allow. I made myself
objectionable to nearly everybody, although they did not tell me so.
However, as the time went on, I began to get a bit calmer, and turned my
thoughts to a state of things which should have received attention
before; I thoroughly overhauled the Palace, and was almost dismayed to
find how much there was that required immediate alteration.
There were whole suites of rooms that I could not bear the thought of
Irma ever seeing, they were so badly decorated. I do not know whether
Ivan had been responsible for the mural atrocities, the terrible colour
schemes, but I do know that some one without any taste at all had really
desecrated the Palace. Perhaps it was one of Ivan's lady friends.
Having come to the conclusion that this state of things must be altered
just as rapidly as possible, I sought the most capable architect in
Karena, and entrusted the job to him; but I made it plain that all plans
must be submitted to me before any work was done.
To avoid the danger of having everything too masculine in taste, I
organised a committee, which consisted of my mother and Ivan's wife,
who, I am glad to say, was at last happy, and with whom my mother had
become very friendly. Sometimes, as a great honour, Zeula was allowed
to suggest some decorative scheme. All this was really quite
unnecessary, but it was an amusement, and rather out of the ordinary
Royal pursuits.
Some two months after my return from Sonale--that wonderful trip with
Landsberg--I was present at the wedding of Sonia. It was a function of
some magnitude, for all the nobility of Rudarlia who were not in some
way related to Landsberg knew that I was interested in the wedding, and
that it would be rather a cheerful and sumptuous gathering. Therefore
they came, nor, I understand, were they disappointed. In fact, so large
was the crowd that I began to wonder whether my own marriage, when it
took place, would attract as much notice. I believe that I mentioned my
thoughts to Woolgast. He looked astonished, until I suggested that I
should have to take a commission in my own regiment of Guards, and then,
of course, he perceived that I had been jesting. He was a serious man,
whom I often teased.
My mother took a great liking to the bride; and, when the couple
returned from their honeymoon, she often had her to her room.
I therefore, myself, saw a good deal of the young wife, who was always
ready to talk about Irma, and from her I learnt much regarding the
tastes of my future wife.
There was one room in the apartments set aside for Irma which I
determined to have decorated entirely according to my own fancy; and
once this was decided upon I set to work to gather together those things
which might best carry out my idea. From Sonia I learnt that a very
favourite period of art, with Irma, was the eighteenth century French
school, so I set about obtaining as many rare and beautiful specimens of
that period as possible. I was fortunate enough to secure some gems,
although I had to pay very heavily for them; but, when I saw them in the
spaces and places allotted to them, I thought they were worth it. The
room, when finished, surpassed my expectations, and I used to dream of
the day when Irma would sit there and admire some beautiful painting, or
fondle some charming bit of china.
I am afraid that I might have neglected my customary routine, had I been
left to myself, but in Zeula and Mr. Neville I possessed two guardians
who were quite capable of standing me in a corner if I did not do my
kingly duty. I used to wonder sometimes whether love was changing me
into a slothful person, I so often felt averse to doing many things
which before I had accepted without murmuring. Mr. Neville used to gibe
at me without mercy, but his crowning insult was when he called me
"Romeo"; that caused a most unkingly tussle, in which I am loath to say
Victor II. of Rudarlia won by very little: my old tutor was
astonishingly tough.
Zeula, who was present, laughed like a schoolboy; and I am convinced,
had anyone seen us, every single subject of mine would have heard the
rumour that their King had gone mad.
But even waiting comes to an end, and the day dawned when Irma and I
became one. I do not believe that two souls have ever fused more
completely into one than hers and mine.
My wife and I rarely mention the day of our marriage, for the reason
that, although it was the beginning of our married life, something
happened which was so tragic, so unlooked for, that even the retrospect
is disquieting and leading to melancholy.
With all the pomp which attends the public marriage of Royalty, Irma and
I had said those words which made us man and wife, and in front of us
stretched all-alluring vistas of life.
We were driving away from the Cathedral, where the ceremony had been
held, in an open carriage--for neither of us wished to cheat the
cheering multitudes of their lawful rights--and as we passed along the
gaily decorated streets, under wonderful flag and flower effects,
through the dense masses of people, who were almost crazy with loyalty
and delight, I remember pressing Irma's hand in encouragement. This was
no mean ordeal which we were going through, especially for her, as after
all she was an alien, of a race which so shortly before had been
hostile.
Those splendid people of mine, they did not allow her to perceive that
she was a stranger to them, but shouted, "God save the Queen!" with all
their might, which was certainly great.
Once she turned to me and said:
"Oh, Victor, what dears they are, I know I shall love them all."
And there was I, laughing and bowing, and feeling, if it can be
believed, extremely wise, and not a bit of a fool.
I felt pleased that the marriage had been delayed by etiquette, for it
had given my subjects time to become used to the idea of having a
Bornian Princess for their Queen. It is quite safe to say that we were
both supremely happy, a feeling which seemed to be universal. And yet
there was one man in the crowd to whom my kingship was hateful, that is
the only reason I can assign for his action.
We had reached a street narrower than the others which we had passed
through, for we had extended our return from the Cathedral so that as
many people as possible might see us, and when for one moment we
slackened our pace on account of the terrific crowd--which was almost
more than the police and troops could manage to restrain--a man suddenly
raised his arm and hurled a bomb at us. I did not see the movement
myself, as I was looking the other way; but Irma did, and threw herself
in front of me to offer her body as a shield for me. Luckily it missed
us both, for it was ill-aimed, and, passing right over the carriage,
struck and burst.
There was a terrible explosion, and for a moment I could not think what
had happened, for the wheels of our carriage were smashed, and this
caused us to bump heavily on the ground, a motion that shook us both
considerably. I clambered to my feet stricken suddenly with appalling
rage; had the man who was responsible been near, I am convinced that I
should have choked him to death. Perhaps, poor brute, it would have
been better for him; for, as I glared round, the crowd fell on the
would-be assassin, and literally tore him to pieces.
The soldiers and police were powerless, but I am glad to say the cries
of anger drowned those more ghastly to listen to. As it was, I did my
best to prevent Irma hearing, or seeing; and in this I was successful.
My escort had been pressed away from the carriage, and the people surged
around, yelling and screaming in their dismay; only for a minute, as the
horses of the Guards thrust them heavily aside, and once more took their
places round the carriage. I heard Woolgast's voice:
"Your Majesties are safe, unhurt? Ah, God be praised!"
"Both quite unhurt, but get one of the other carriages here quickly."
I clambered on to the box seat of the carriage, and shouted at the top
of my voice that we were unhurt, and that those who heard must pass the
news on, and also let us through. My voice must have been heard by
many, for a very little time elapsed before my mother's coach was at our
side. For one instant her arms were round my neck, and then they were
assisting Irma in beside her.
My darling's face was white, but she smiled bravely at me as they drove
off. Then I took one of the trooper's horses, and was just about to
mount when it struck me that some one might have been injured. I asked
Woolgast, and his face was grave as he told me that two of the people
had been killed, and three Guardsmen injured. I gave what orders were
necessary, and, sad with a sadness the like of which I had never felt
before, I mounted and rode on.
What a terrible change had come over the day! From the most joyous
mirth, it had turned to the most gloomy despair. All those cheering
multitudes how had only sorrowful looks to bestow upon their King. I
rode therefore in almost complete silence, and I am afraid that I myself
was as dejected a monarch as anyone could see, for the horror of the
tragedy had struck me hard, and I could not forget that blood had been
spilt almost on the bridal robe of my Queen. During that slow journey
through the serried ranks of my subjects, who stood uncovered in mute
sympathy, I tried to find some reason for the awful action; I knew of no
one who could bear me personally any grudge. The nobles whom I had
exiled had returned to their estates long before, without any
confiscations, and I did not believe that any of them could be guilty.
Those of my subjects who had suffered under Ivan had had their wrongs
righted with far more celerity than they could have expected. These,
too, I judged were guiltless; and, as I could think of no one whom I had
injured, I put the crime down as the work of an anarchical fanatic with
a loathing for monarchical government.
The only thought which brightened me was that my wife had given proofs
of her love, by trying to screen me.
I had seen many terrible sights during the late war, but had never been
so affected as I was now, it seemed so useless and unnecessary. I
feared, too, that Irma would be quite stricken down by the shock, for it
must have been a terrible strain on her nervous system, to be so quiet
and brave through the whole affair.
My mother's carriage had reached the Palace some time before I did, so
that the confusion, which no doubt existed, had had time to quieten
down. This was largely due to the efforts of Zeula, who had forced his
way through the crowds, and arrived at the Palace by side streets.
He was terribly upset, but he had the presence of mind to order for me
the thing which I badly needed, a stiff brandy and soda. With all the
haste that I could make, I went to see my wife, whom I found in my
mother's care, and that meeting was a revelation to me; I had had no
idea of the extent of her love. I think that the tears she shed were
probably the most beneficial way of relieving her pent-up emotion, at
any rate she recovered sufficiently to take her place by my side to show
ourselves to the crowds which stood anxiously outside. I am not a
believer in the adage that "out of evil cometh good," but in this case
it certainly did, for the people had been struck by her demeanour, and
were proud of their new Queen, a feeling which soon turned to love, as
they got to know her better.
I shall never forget the graciousness of her manner to the Head of the
Police when he came to tender his resignation. Many people were blaming
him for the occurrence, even some of the Ministers. The poor fellow
broke down completely, when Irma, having asked my permission to deal
with his case, refused absolutely to hear of his resignation, and
declared that there should be no one made scapegoat for an incident
which could not have been foreseen. She made a point, too, of letting
others see her friendly attitude towards the official, with so much
grace and tact, that he went away happy, and quite devoted to his new
Queen.
I had caused inquiries to be made concerning the two murdered men, one a
baker of Karena, the other a peasant from near Bavla; the latter case
was extremely sad, for he had walked, with his newly-wed wife, all the
way from his village to the capital, to see us; it was their bridal
treat, their honeymoon, and what an ending! The only thing I could do,
was to provide handsomely for their dependents.
The three Guardsmen, who luckily were only slightly injured, received
promotion and a sum of money. As for the criminal, it was never
discovered who he was, although everything was done to find out his
name, and to know whether he had accomplices. I believe myself that the
whole affair was the work of his own disordered brain, and that he
planned and executed his project entirely by himself. Mr. Neville,
however, advanced a theory, which may have had some foundation, and
which led to a confession from him.
It was the same day, only very much later, when, having dined _en
famille_, I went with Prince Zeula and Mr. Neville into my study to talk
the affair over. I had given orders that it should not be mentioned
before my wife, as the sooner it was forgotten by her the better, a
course of conduct which my mother emphatically endorsed, and it was into
her care that I had given Irma.
I had waited behind to kiss a last good night to my wife, so that Zeula
and Mr. Neville had time to reach my study, where they waited. It was
then that I heard Mr. Neville say:
"I think it would be wise to tell him."
"What is that?" I asked.
"Neville has a theory," said Zeula.
"But only a theory, there is absolutely nothing to connect the two
things."
"Which two things, what are you talking about?"
"Well, Victor, I will tell you. I hope, however, that you will not take
it amiss. It is this: you remember the writer of a certain article in a
Sonale paper; I was wondering whether he had had anything to do with the
affair of to-day."
"I don't follow you."
"Well, you see, it was I who thrashed him, and I was wondering whether
he had found out who I was and so implicated you. Perhaps he thought
that I was acting for you."
"I'm damned! So it was you who forestalled me, was it? That's where
you had gone when I could get no trace of you that day, I'm glad it was
you and nobody else, but how did you know about it at all?"
"I told him, Victor; and, as I myself could not go, he was only too
happy to volunteer."
"But why go at all?"
They did not answer me; and after a minute I smiled, and held out my
hands to the two of them.
"I don't mind confessing now that you were right, and I am glad that I
did not have to do it."
There was evident relief in their voices when they spoke again, asking
me what I thought of the theory.
"I don't think that he is responsible. Of course he may be, but I think
it unlikely; still, if you think proper, you could have some discreet
inquiries made by the police."
* * * * *
The next day my wife and I departed on our honeymoon, and for ten days
we forgot everything. We had elected to spend our time, hidden from the
world, in a castle in Soctia near the sea-coast. It was one of the
Royal residences, which had not been used for years, and which before
then had served more as a hunting-lodge than as a Palace. It was an old
chateau, with many towers and turrets, delightfully picturesque, and
undoubtedly uncomfortable. I had had this place put into thorough
repair, and thither we went with just as small a retinue as we could
well take.
I did not think it was possible for a human being to feel so happy, at
times it seemed to choke me. Irma was all that my mind could conceive,
or my heart desire; there was between us the most perfect understanding,
as though our lives had been lived together through countless centuries.
Each seemed to know instinctively the wishes and thoughts of the other,
and our minds intermingled smoothly and perfectly. There were,
apparently, no rough edges to be worn off.
We refused to think of state matters, during that short period; and,
when the courier arrived each day with letters from Prince Zeula, it was
only as if I had dreamt of such things, and they were forgotten before
he had gone from our sight with the replies.
The country around the chateau was some of the most beautiful to be
found in Rudarlia, and some days we spent the sunny hours in riding out
exploring, as free from care as two children. Then, in the evenings, we
would sit on the terrace which we liked most and watch the night.
I wonder how many people know the charm and understand the mystery of a
warm summer's evening. I daresay a great number, but it seemed to us
that nobody but ourselves could properly appreciate it, as, sitting side
by side on a stone bench, we would watch the last lights die out in the
sky, and the mantle of night descend on nature.
The sounds, too, fascinated us, those mysterious murmurings for all the
world like those of a slumbering child. We spoke seldom, preferring to
sit hand in hand, in silence, until the moon crept into view, showing
us, as it were, another world--quiet, peaceful, silvery, and almost more
enchantingly beautiful than the day.
We were, no doubt, absurd, but I am glad to think that we were, that in
spite of strenuous lives before us--and in my case behind as well--we
could still forget everything in each other's love, and look out on the
world with the pleased, expectant eyes of children; I believe we could
imagine fairies in the depths of the forest, or nymphs playing in the
streams.
It was on the eleventh day of our stay in this place, that we received
notification that the outside world did really exist; we were brought
back abruptly to our everyday senses, by the sight of a number of men
toiling up a somewhat steep hill which led to the chateau. We were on
the top of one of the towers, and from there had an extensive view of
the surrounding country.
"Oh, Victor, look at those people! Do you think they want to see us?
because if so I must go and arrange my hair."
A remark which might lead people to imagine that the King of Rudarlia
was a very ordinary young husband after all.
The men in question did wish to see us, for presently we were informed
that a deputation from a neighbouring village desired to pay us their
respectful homage.
"This is the beginning of the end, my Queen, and how little do those
honest fellows know with what thoughts we watched their approach. Of
course, I might order their heads to be cut off; but, if I did, no one
would do it, so you see how impotent your husband really is."
"Poor fellows, they must be very hot and thirsty, and I think it is
charming of them to come all this way to see us."
"So do I, but I did not wish to be disturbed."
"Nor did I, there are such beautiful views from up here."
As we had spent most of the time looking at each other, hers was a
remark which made me laugh, which she had probably intended.
Some twenty minutes later, Irma and I appeared on the terrace where the
men had assembled. They were to my mind very brave, and tried manfully
to hide their nervousness. One of them, who wore the sash of Mayor,
advanced towards us with many bows.
He was, he informed us, the Mayor of the village, and had been begged by
a number of citizens to head a deputation, which desired to express
their joy at our escape, and to thank us for the honour we did them by
choosing their province, and their part of the province to stay in,
etc., etc.
He ended a speech, which must have taken him a long time to learn by
heart, by very gracefully begging us to accept a trifling token of their
loyalty, in the shape of two small silver articles made by the village
metal worker.
He handed me two boxes, in one of which was a really beautiful brooch of
silver and turquoise matrix, and in the other a box, almost equally
beautiful, of the same materials.
Both Irma and myself were absolutely amazed at the artistic merit of
these things, as well as at the cleverness of the workmanship.
I turned to the Mayor, who stood by seeking to read in our faces our
opinion of the gift; he could not have found much difficulty, for both
of us were literally astounded.
"Did you say these were made in your village?"
"Yes, your Majesty, by my nephew, a young man who does nothing else."
"I should like to see him, these works of his are very good indeed."
"He is here, may it please your Majesty."
"Present him to me."
A young fellow, assisted by sundry nudges, detached himself from the
group behind the Mayor, and stood respectfully hat in hand.
"Are you the metal worker responsible for these?"
"Yes, your Majesty."
"Then let me tell you that you have a great gift, and that the Queen and
I accept them with very much pleasure. When you go, leave your name and
address, so that I may send for you."
Irma had pinned on the brooch, and was talking to the Mayor; so I moved
over to the other men and shook hands with all, thanking them for their
kind thoughts of us, complimenting them on possessing so skilful a
craftsman in their village, and assuring them that we should never
forget their visit.
One of them--an old man--told me that he had seen the marriage
procession of my parents, but that ill-health had prevented him seeing
mine. However, he thanked God for allowing him to see me and my
beautiful Queen before he died; and he hoped that his sons would see my
sons married. The good man was slightly previous, and wonderfully
loyal.
*CHAPTER XIX*
When the deputation had seen enough of us, and refreshed themselves
mightily, they went away much pleased with the result of their visit. I
am sure that some of them would remember all their lives that they had
spoken to their King and Queen; it would give them something to talk
about in their old age, as well as a feeling of importance amongst their
less fortunate fellows.
It is a wonderful thing that rarity should add so much to the value of
anything.
When we were alone again, Irma and I began to re-examine the two gifts,
but, strangely enough, both of us were silent as though in thought. It
may have been the art shown in the work, or it may have been something
which I can never hope to explain, at any rate from that silent scrutiny
sprang an idea, which in its maturity was a source of many emotions.
From a little thing, like the visit of that day, a great thing sprang
forth, and incidentally my life was expanded.
I had a nebulous scheme, a thought hardly formed, somewhere in my brain,
as I stood and looked at the brooch and box; and it required the
feminine quickness to supply the concrete expression of it. My wife
said:
"The art of Rudarlia, what might it become?"
"You had better tell me what you are thinking," I said.
"I am thinking that Rudarlia may be famous for its art life, if you care
to make it so."
"But I know so little of art. The only knowledge I have of the subject
is entirely superficial; I've never had time to study it as it should be
studied."
"Grey-haired Monarch."
"Is my wisdom so great?"
"No, oh King! that was not my thought."
"But do you think that I shall ever have time to study the question?
You must remember that here in Rudarlia we have none of the great
collections that other countries have. One small gallery is all that
Karena boasts of."
"Can you give me a reason why she should not have more?"
"Not if you say that she is to have."
"Oh, Victor, let us spend this evening planning out what we might do, or
rather what we can."
So that evening we sat on the terrace as usual, and instead of wasting
the time--if it can be so harshly described--we tried to work out some
way of encouraging art in Rudarlia. It was a most puzzling question,
for there was always the danger of overdoing the assistance we could
give to artists, as well as the chance of offending their
susceptibilities by what they might look upon as charity; they are so
very difficult to tackle, these people with artistic temperaments.
It was, however, a most interesting conversation, during which I
discovered that my wife had much more knowledge of the subject under
discussion than I had; and later I found that she herself was very fond
of dabbling in various mediums, with a considerable amount of success.
We practically decided that night to found a colony devoted to the arts
in Karena, and I knew just whereabouts that colony would have its
quarters.
There was considerable risk, to my mind, in this idea of ours. Art to a
nation is, I suppose, almost a necessity in some shape or other, but it
must be controlled, either by the artists themselves or by the force of
public opinion. Now in Karena, which we proposed to make the heart of
our art world, public opinion was practically _non est_. The reasons
for this being the want of wealth, and the want of artists. I should
have felt much more secure with regard to our scheme, if I had been
certain that the people really needed the fine arts to assist them in
living.
I was quite well aware that the growth of proper appreciation must be
very gradual, and it seemed to us that the chief point was how to lay
the foundations well. It was no good thinking of taking the few
Rudarlians who called themselves artists, and giving them unlimited
paint, or clay, or pianos, to work their own sweet will upon, for that
must lead to either rank imitation, or work of the crudest kind. We
should thus be obtaining no benefit, for there were many worthless daubs
to be seen, although not all by Rudarlians.
Our honeymoon drew to a close, two weeks of the most perfect joy that I
have ever known; it was so, because I had nothing to do except devote
myself to Irma, afterwards it was never quite the same, as I had other
things to attend to.
For a little time after our return nothing was done about our scheme,
that is, nothing definite, but all the while we were both working out,
to the best of our ability, the details.
I had known just whereabouts I wished the art settlement to be, but it
was only owing to the death of the man who owned the place that I was
able to buy it.
The property I speak of was at the back of the Palace, and consisted of
the most ancient houses in the city. These houses were practically cut
off from the rest of Karena; on one side by the Palace walls, or rather
those of the grounds, on another by an extraordinary outcropping of
rock, while on the third--for the whole was in the form of a
triangle--ran a small canal.
The only way of getting to this place was by means of a bridge over the
canal, unless one climbed the walls of my gardens, or was lowered from
the top of the rock. This place therefore was a perfect nest, and
really ideal for our settlement.
How it had remained so, untouched by the spirit of modernity, was always
a puzzle to me. The moment the bridge over the canal was crossed, I
felt as though I had stepped from the twentieth into the fifteenth
century. I do not believe there was a single modern building in the
place; everywhere one looked, it was mediaeval.
I remember the first time that we went there after having purchased it,
just Irma, my mother, Mr. Neville, and myself, and we enjoyed it
thoroughly. There had been few people living in the houses, which had
not been cared for, and these few were only too pleased to turn out of
their quarters for a consideration.
We therefore found the place absolutely deserted, save for a few
pigeons, and cats who would not desert their old haunts.
The doors of most of the houses had been left unlocked, so we went round
the narrow cobbled streets, entering those buildings which seemed most
desirable; some were really fine houses, with large rooms containing
great carved beams, leaded lights, and other delightful things.
Naturally, the outsides were in keeping, and no matter where we looked
we could see old door-ways, queer gargoyles, and little courtyards, the
walls of which would in all probability be covered with lichen. In some
parts, we seemed to be walking in a tunnel, so close were the houses to
one another, and occasionally, at the end of these streets, we caught
sight of the sunlit canal. I was very, very pleased with my purchase.
As we walked and examined, we explained to my mother and Mr. Neville
what we proposed doing.
I think that at first she, or rather they, thought that marriage had
made me a little mad; but as my explanation grew, both in length and
conciseness, they began to think that after all something might be said
for our idea. I told them that the houses should remain as they were,
but with modern improvements, and that when the necessary alterations
had been effected I proposed inviting artists of all kinds to come and
live there: painters, sculptors, composers, engravers, writers, and
metal workers. I then went on to draw most alluring visions of what I
hoped would be the result. I pictured all these various artists living
here much as they did in towns in the middle ages, working with the
certainty that any really meritorious piece of art would be more thought
of than a dozen inferior works, and that appreciation, consideration,
and understanding would go hand in hand with profit.
Then I went on to tell them how I proposed having a gatehouse erected at
the canal bridge, and instal some old pensioner and family in it.
"And how about feeding your colony?" asked Mr. Neville.
"I intend having just a few shops, and shall have one inn; that old
place with the big hall, I think it will do as the dining-hall for
unmarried artists."
"Where do you propose obtaining the artists you speak of?"
"I don't know yet, but I do not think there will be much difficulty in
getting them to come here. I shall try the great art centres first, and
then the smaller ones; I shall invite the famous men to stay for as long
as they wish, and execute some splendid piece of work for Rudarlia."
"Yes, Victor is going to have his portrait painted in the uniform of
each of his regiments; all the paintings will be collected in one
building, which will be called The Hall of the King, and I shall be
expected to spend so many hours a day there as a dutiful wife." A
remark strangely flippant for a newly-married Queen to make.
My mother laughed, which was wrong of her, and said quietly:
"From what I know of the portraits of Royalty, all the works would be so
much unlike each other that they would have to bear an identification
tablet."
"How nice! I can imagine that I have ever so many different husbands,
and so need not get tired of one."
"I can see that this will lead to a family quarrel, so will turn the
subject," said Mr. Neville.
"You need not trouble," laughed my fond parent. "Victor will do that
himself, by letting loose a herd of wild artists in this peaceful
community."
"Another thing that I shall do," I said, "is this: no Royal person shall
be allowed to come here without a special permit."
"He would keep us out of Eden," murmured Irma.
"Zeula with a brush full of paint shall keep the entrance."
That was from Mr. Neville, so as I had them all against me I
surrendered.
Now that we had possession of this place, it was not many weeks before
the workmen were in, for we did not want to lose time, being both young
enough to feel excited about our plans. I think it must be one of the
most terrible things in life, to lose the power of feeling excited. My
respect for architects grew enormously during the next few weeks, they
knew so much that I did not; for instance, it seemed to me the simplest
thing in the world to put pipes and things into a house to conduct water
from the main, but it appeared to be more difficult than I imagined, and
much discussion was necessary. I could not understand why, when there
was a blank wall, I could not have a window knocked through it, and I
finally came to the conclusion that a statesman of one of the great
powers--the Foreign Minister of England, for example--does not have to
be more careful than an architect knocking a window in a blank wall, so
as not to disturb the balance of power.
Unless we had seen it ourselves we should never have believed that there
was so much to be done in the place. It was almost staggering, and yet
all the repairs and alterations were absolutely necessary; there were
rooms to be converted into studios, and workshops and a hundred smaller
alterations. It was a most wonderful hobby for both of us, not to speak
of many others who were interested in a lesser degree. I think Zeula
was almost as keen as we were, he spent hours in the vicinity; he had
liked the idea the moment he had heard of it, and had immediately
offered his services in any way we could use them. Another person who
spent much of his spare time there was Bauen, he could generally be
found keeping a watchful eye upon the workmen, and no doubt yarning with
them, and telling those who wished, wonderful tales of their King.
I had had a gate made in the wall of the Palace gardens, and Irma and I
used to go down when the workmen had finished for the day, to see what
progress had been made, and what new arrangements we could suggest.
Then the day came when there was enough done to allow us to begin
filling our nest with birds.
This we did slowly, with much deliberation, and with the assistance of
some of the great artists of the world, who most kindly offered to help
us. From reports which I received indirectly from the large centres, I
caused a list to be made of those artists to whom should be sent an
invitation to come to Karena. They were not all famous--in fact, there
were only a few to whom that term might be applied--but they were all of
an artistic calibre which made it possible for them to become so.
From Rudarlia I had a goodly few, who were eager to profit by the
wonderful chance which this scheme of ours offered them, and the great
men were ever ready to take them into their studios, to instruct and
assist them. I had never realised how much goodness there was among
artists until then, I had always looked upon them as essentially selfish
people; but then I had known very few, and those, perhaps, bad examples.
It was a lesson to me not to misjudge a class by a few specimens. I
fear one is rather given to so doing.
It was wonderful to watch the beginning of a settlement, the incoming,
the furnishing, and the gradual fall in the excitement; each new-comer
took his own time to get used to the place, and artists might be seen
all about Karena, gazing and exploring, but soon the first batch had
settled down, and work was commenced.
From that time my education advanced along artistic lines, and I began
to understand something of the innermost strivings of those men who were
adding to the beauty of the world.
Most days, I managed to visit the place for half an hour or so, and when
possible Irma accompanied me. Without any fuss or preparation we went
to this studio, or that workshop, and were greeted everywhere with
smiles, for these good people learnt to look upon us as friends, and
were always pleased to show us anything which they thought might
interest us; occasionally we made some little purchase, occasionally we
gave some bigger commission.
There was one building reserved for exhibitions of paintings and
drawings, another for the crafts, while a large hall was generally full
of sculpture. These formed a permanent exhibition, although the work
exhibited was not always the same, as each month the artists had the
right to change their works there for others, and replace any that had
been sold.
This exhibition was a source of great interest to Karenians, and others;
indeed, most visitors who came to the city were anxious to see the work
accomplished by my artists, as both Irma and myself called them, and
many of these visitors went away with purchases and few of them
apparently regretted the money spent.
We set the fashion of giving works of art as presents, and I am glad to
be able to state that the fashion remains in full favour.
The other artistic professions were not neglected, there being studios
set aside for musicians of all kinds, but I found it more difficult to
arrange a plan whereby the pecuniary side of their work might benefit.
I therefore arranged that each week a concert should be given, and also
that there should be a certain season when any of the masters might give
grand opera, the players, of course, being the students. Karena boasted
of an opera house; and, although I do not pose as an authority, I
believe the musical side of the Rudarlian life was rather highly
developed before this settlement came into being.
Some six months after the place was in full working order, one of the
famous European artists, who happened to be staying as my guest, and who
was full of enthusiasm for the scheme, suggested that the lack of old
masters in Karena was a serious handicap for the students. I questioned
him closely on the subject, heard all he had to say, and then
interrogated others; the greater number agreed that a collection of the
works of the famous masters would be of incalculable value to the
artists generally.
This was a new idea, and I must confess that it appealed to me; I think
that I wanted Karena to be able to boast also of a National Gallery, but
there were many things to be thought of before this could be undertaken.
The greatest difficulty was procuring the works themselves, how was that
possible even though I should desire it; many pictures are sold as old
masters, but there must be many fakes among them. Another thing was the
expense; I had no wish to invest a large sum of money in pictures, for
in a newly developing country like mine there were countless other ways
of spending money, with infinitely more advantage to the nation. What I
finally did was this: I let it be known all over Rudarlia that I would
provide a gallery, if the Rudarlians themselves would provide the
pictures, either as gifts to the nation or as loans.
The result surprised me, I had had no idea that the artistic scheme
which Irma and I had originated had so taken the public fancy; but it
appeared that it had, and almost immediately I received notification
that there were a large number of nobles and others who would consider
it an honour to have their old pictures hung in the National Gallery in
Karena. It must have astonished many people to know that Rudarlia had
many authentic works of the great masters, men like Rubens, Rembrandt,
and Titian, stowed away in various old castles and chateaux. These were
offered generously by their owners, some as gifts, others as loans, so I
perforce had to keep to my promise and provide a suitable building for
the housing. This expense I looked upon as a most legitimate one, for
it gave work to a number of men, thus circulating money among the
working class, added to the beauty of Karena, and incidentally added to
the value of the city as an art centre.
In building this gallery, I was determined to employ only Rudarlian
brains, labour, and materials, and so the first thing I did was to open
a competition among Rudarlian architects, all over the country, for the
best design for the proposed gallery.
I did not judge these myself, but left the decision to a famous French
architect who was staying in Karena. I found that his choice was much
the same as Irma's and mine, so that design was decided upon, and the
architect who had submitted it was awarded the prize. Strange to say,
he was an absolutely unknown man from a small town in Garace. The next
thing, was to decide upon the builder, but this I left to others to
think about.
We had chosen a site in an excellent position, near the Palace, and
therefore close to the settlement; and it was with a feeling almost akin
to awe that Irma laid the foundation stone. She told me of this feeling
and asked me to explain it, which was more than I could do, but I did
suggest that she was fearful of the effect the gallery might have on the
Rudarlians.
At last the building was completed. What a day that was, it is simply
burnt upon my memory with ineffaceable delight, not because we were
going to open a National Gallery of Art, not because we had accomplished
something for Rudarlia, but because upon that day Irma told me
something; told me shyly, yet with a deep, wonderful pride, that I was
to be a father.
We had then been married for three years, and I think that all the
nation worried that no child had been born to us. In my heart, I, too,
had been rather despondent, for so much hung upon our having a family,
and more powerful still was my desire to hold my own child in my arms.
I believe that all those who came in contact with me that day thought
that I was a little too exhilarated at thoughts of opening a gallery;
they put it down to that, poor dears, not knowing what the real reason
was. In all probability, a thousand husbands feel just the same every
time such news is broken to them, but then I would not have allowed
that; I was bursting with pride, and an insane desire to take every one
into my confidence.
What an absurd thing young human nature is, that is, when it is natural
and nice--and I was both.
I remember nothing of the opening ceremony, except that various speeches
were made and a great number of people cheered themselves hoarse when
Irma and I appeared. Irma told me afterwards, so did Mr. Neville, so
did Zeula, so did my mother, that my speech convulsed every one who
heard it; that I had appeared in a new role: that of a wit. I should
never have believed them, had they not made me read the report of what I
had said, which appeared in the newspaper. It certainly was humorous,
but I have never attempted to repeat it, rather luckily, too, in my
opinion.
It was in connection with this gallery, that I instituted a new Order in
Rudarlia: the Order of Merit.
Ever since my accession, I had been thinking in a half-hearted fashion
of doing so, but now I made up my mind that such an Order would be most
useful to reward those Rudarlians who served the state in either a
direct or indirect manner. I wished if possible to widen the area of
such a distinction, not only to confine it to the professions. Any man
who by his labour served Rudarlia might be entitled to receive the
Order, but the different labours must be kept apart from one another; I
mean, by that, that a soldier wearing the Order must be distinguishable
from the great lawyer, and so on. This I did by using different
coloured ribbons. All men with the right to wear the distinction were
to be known as Chevalier. They and their wives had also the right to
appear at Court.
For this I received some abuse, no doubt, but I shall always maintain
that class distinction, based on birth alone, is a mistake, and
calculated to work a tremendous amount of mischief. That a man who
employs thousands of other men to make articles, or raise food, for the
nation, should be looked down upon by those whose ancestors fought for
their country and were ennobled is wrong.
So many people do not realise that national service is not necessarily
performed only by fighting. And those same people do not realise that
times have changed; they do not wish to advance with the civilisation of
their country, never thinking that the rich man of to-day may be the
founder of a noble family which shall do much for the honour and
advancement of their land. I do not deny, however, that the said noble
family may, in a hundred years or so, look down and sneer at their less
highly placed neighbours; but then human nature is very funny if you
think about it, and extremely illogical.
There must be expansion in everything, and in such a country as
Rudarlia, where classes exist, I hold that the noble class is all the
stronger and better for the introduction into its ranks of all types of
brains, that is, of course, the finer types; I do not suggest criminal
types, or fools, or even sentimentalists, for as a rule such types are
not unknown among the denizens of the aristocracy in all countries. It
was my wish, therefore, to obtain this fresh blood in the titled
families by choosing recruits from the ranks of those who had achieved.
For the first few months that followed the opening of the gallery, I do
not believe there ever was a happier monarch than myself. It became
almost a disease, and, strange to say, nearly all those who surrounded
me caught the complaint. My mother at thought of possessing a
grandchild was almost delirious with joy. Zeula was worse; he began to
talk to me upon every occasion when we were alone about my heir, and to
wonder about his education, his names, every conceivable thing which
could be imagined. And I liked it, and encouraged him. At first we were
both prone to talk as though the sex of the child were known; we always
spoke of it as masculine, until Mr. Neville put us right by suggesting
mildly that it might happen to be a girl, he had heard of such cases, he
said. I will own that at his remark both Zeula and myself were rather
taken aback, but after the first few minutes we went on quite calmly
making our plans for a girl. Oh, the castles in the air we all built,
and what a fascinating pastime it was.
About this time I had a letter from Carruthers. I have it still,
occasionally I read it as an antidote, for it brings back something
which I might with reason wish to forget. I used to take--and do still,
for that matter--great pride in being beloved by my people, and I used
to flatter myself that there was no one who could come and say to me,
with truth, "Look at my misery, the result of this or that action of
yours." Once before, on the day of my marriage, I had experienced a
severe shock to this pride of mine, but now I was as bad as ever. The
second shock, however, opened my eyes to the fact that a king can always
find some one who believes that the monarch has used him ill. So it was
in my case.
Carruthers' letter ran:
"MY DEAR OLD SPLOSH,
"A very curious thing has happened, which has caused me a lot of worry.
"Last week I received a letter from a woman whose name is unknown to me,
asking for an interview. She informed me that what she wanted to tell
me was serious, and might affect you. I saw her. The interview was
interesting; as she appears to look upon you as some one divine, I did
not disabuse her mind. She told me that you had assisted her to return
home to England after Ivan's death, and other things, one of which was,
that having heard my name used in connection with yours, she imagined
that I could tell you her tale more easily than she could herself. It
was this: A man had been to her farm for work, and had in the course of
his stay uttered many threats against you as the cause of his downfall.
From what he said the woman seemed to think that he was an illegitimate
son of the late Ivan, and who had been left destitute on his father's
death. She described him as being a very powerful man, dark, with a
fierce wild expression. The details are meagre enough, but look out for
such a man, see if your Ministers know of him. Don't take risks by
ignoring this, for I am convinced that the woman was absolutely genuine.
I've a jolly good mind to chuck the army, and come and look after you
myself."
I did not ignore this warning, I spoke to Zeula, Woolgast, and the head
of the police about it, but I fettered them by binding them to secrecy,
as I did not wish the slightest rumour to reach Irma's ears. Having
spoken to these men, I must confess that the warning faded from my
memory; luckily, the others did not forget so easily. They, it seemed,
had an anxious time. Zeula told me that before Ivan had usurped the
throne he had had a son by a peasant woman, but this child had
disappeared.
*CHAPTER XX*
Herr Bjornston, the eminent Swedish sculptor, to this day blames himself
mightily for what happened; so do Woolgast, the Chief of Police, Prince
Zeula, Mr. Neville, and others, whereas the only person to blame is
myself, and I don't blame myself over-much. Perhaps I was negligent,
since I had been warned; it may have been conceit on my part not to take
precautions, but, as I have already stated, I knew of no one who bore me
a grudge with reason.
On this occasion I had, as was my habit, gone alone to the settlement to
pass an hour before settling down to a bout of work with Zeula. I did
not know then that, every time I did this, my dear old servant Bauen
kept me under surveillance. He always shadowed me from the Palace to
the settlement, watched where I entered and waited patiently until I
reappeared; so often had he done this that he knew I never stayed more
than fifteen minutes in any studio. It is to this knowledge of his that
I owe my life.
It was a glorious evening, and I wandered down to the house in which
Herr Bjornston had his studio. How wonderful it is that everything seems
mapped out in life; I remember hesitating on the door-step, undecided
whether to go in there or to some other studio. I was in two minds
whether I should not go to a young Englishman's place to order a small
picture which I wanted to give away, but I decided that the morrow would
do for that, as the artist might be out; I therefore rapped at
Bjornston's door.
It was flung open, and I stepped in. The door was closed behind me. I
was in what was perhaps the finest studio in the place, a really
magnificent room, but it was empty save for the man who had admitted me
and myself.
"Is not Herr Bjornston in, then?" I asked.
"I expect him every minute, your Majesty. He had a message which called
him away an hour ago; he told me that he would return at half-past
nine."