In Brief Authority, F. Anstey [latest novels to read .txt] 📗

and of course I accepted the responsibility. If there has been any silly mistake about it, you can't blame me or my husband either. We've tried to do our duty—even so far as consenting to our son's making a marriage we could not approve of—for the sake of saving our Country from inundation. It's not every King and Queen who would have done that."

"That peril," replied the Burgomaster, "is no longer to be feared, since the King of the Crystal Lake, on being notified of the facts in our possession, has withdrawn his demands, saying he desires no union with a family of ignoble and beggarly pretenders."

"That's a let-off!" said Clarence, "though he might have put it a bit more pleasantly, what?"

Queen Selina felt that this repudiation had put one of her heaviest guns out of action, but she was still undaunted. "I'm sure," she said, "We have no wish to be associated with such a person. And, as for being pretenders, I can only say that if the Marshal had come to me and told me what I now know, I should have been quite ready to resign in Miss Heritage's favour. But how could I, when he never breathed a word to me about it?"

"I should like to add," put in King Sidney, "that it has come as a complete surprise to me. I'm anxious to do whatever is right and proper, and if any reasonable arrangement can be come to, I won't stand in the way."

This attitude produced an immediate reaction in their favour, as was visible from the expressions on the faces of the whole Tribunal.

"Then," the President asked, "is the Council to understand that you are prepared to resign at once?"

"Certainly," said the King. "Only too pleased!"

"Not at once," said Queen Selina. "We cannot leave the Kingdom without a ruler—that would be very wrong. But as soon as Miss Heritage—or Queen Daphne, if you like to call her so—chooses to come forward to claim the crown we shall be delighted to give it up. Till then we are merely holding it in trust for her."

"And where is Queen Daphne at present?" asked the Burgomaster.

"Well," said Queen Selina, "she ought to be at Clairdelune by this time."

"She must be sent for without delay," said the President, and the order was given that messengers on swift steeds should be despatched to Clairdelune at once.

"Well, gentlemen," said the Queen, after this business had been concluded, "I hope you see that you owe us an apology for daring to put us under arrest and treat us like criminals. Until Lady Daphne arrives we are still the King and Queen of Märchenland, and you will be good enough to regard us as such."

"The Council wishes to express its deepest regret," said the President, "for having exposed your Majesties' persons to undeserved indignity."

"And now, perhaps," said Queen Selina triumphantly, "we may consider ourselves free to resume our thrones, if only to dissolve the Council?"

The guards fell back instinctively, and she and the King were proceeding to their usual seats under the canopy without any protest from the President, who was engaged at the time in deciphering the contents of a packet which had just been brought to him.

Before they had reached the steps of the dais, he looked up, and ordered them to halt in so peremptory a tone that even Queen Selina obeyed involuntarily.

"What's up now?" inquired Clarence in an undertone.

"This packet directed to myself," said the President, "was found on the body of the late Marshal. It contains an order under the Royal seal and signature, which I will now read to the Council." And he read the Queen's secret order to the Baron to convey Daphne to England, which provoked general horror and execration.

The Queen was thunderstruck as she heard this fresh proof of the Marshal's duplicity—she felt more than ever that she had been a fool to trust him—she might have known that he would take some dishonourable advantage of her confidence!

"What have you to answer to this?" the President was saying to her, and she could see that both her husband and son were waiting anxiously for her reply.

"Is it necessary for me to deny that I ever gave such an order?" she said, with a virtuous indignation that was really very well done. "Of course it was forged by that wicked Marshal!" (so fortunate, she thought, that he was dead!) "It is easy to see with what motive."

Clarence and his father breathed again. For a few dreadful minutes they had been haunted by an ugly fear—lest—but they ought to have felt assured that no member of the Wibberley-Stimpson family could be so unworthy of the name.

"It is possible," said the venerable President doubtfully, "that the handwriting may be but an imitation."

"Nay," struck in the sturdy Burgomaster, "it is hers, sure enough. There can be no doubt to my mind that both our unlawful sovereigns and their son have plotted to deport our true Queen, the Lady Daphne, and that their vile design has succeeded but too well!"

"You're quite out of it, old cock!" shouted Clarence, through the roar of assent that greeted the Burgomaster's speech. "Why should we plot against her, when we hadn't an idea she had a right to the throne?"

"So you allege," said the Burgomaster. "But this order speaks for itself, and if the Council will take my advice it will order all three of the prisoners to be executed at once in the City Square, in sight of the people they have wronged and deceived."

This suggestion evidently commended itself to the majority, but the President demurred. "We must not act too hastily," he said, "lest we find too late that we have been misled by appearances. It may be that Queen Daphne has reached Clairdelune in safety, but of that we cannot have sure knowledge until our messengers return. In the meantime our prisoners must not be regarded as though they were proved guilty. I shall order that they be removed to apartments in the North Tower, where they are to be given honourable treatment and every indulgence save their liberty. Should it be found that they are innocent, due reparation shall be made them."

"And what if we hear that our Queen is not at Clairdelune?" asked the Burgomaster.

"Then they shall receive no mercy," replied the President. "Their heads shall be struck off that same day, in the great square of the Capital."

"Good!" said the Burgomaster. "I will have the scaffold put up the moment I return."

"I just want to say this, Gentlemen," said Clarence before he was led away: "if we were really guilty of trying to get rid of poor little Lady Daphne, we should be such a set of rotters that we should jolly well deserve losing our heads for it. But you'll find we're not."

"I can answer for my poor wife as for myself," said King Sidney. "She is far too much of a lady to dream of doing anything that isn't strictly correct."

Queen Selina said nothing—she was not feeling well enough just then.

"Not half bad!" remarked Clarence, as he went through the suites of rooms that were to form their prison. "Pleasant look-out from all the windows, and the rooms jolly comfortable, considering. We shall do very well here for a day or two."

"Don't talk in that light way, Clarence," said his mother, "or you'll drive me mad!"

"Why, there's nothing to be down in the mouth about, Mater. We may have to stick this longer, of course—depends how long those chaps take getting back from Clairdelune. But as soon as they do get back we shall be let out, and I shouldn't wonder if the Country gave us a thundering good pension. It's no more than it ought to."

"You—you mustn't count on that. You—we must all of us prepare for the worst, the very worst."

"What skittles, Mater! What can they do to us, unless, of course, Daphne wasn't sent to Clairdelune. But I saw her in the car myself."

"It—it doesn't follow that—that she got there, Clarence."

"Why on earth shouldn't she?"

"The Baron might—might have missed the way somehow."

"Not he! He may be an old foozle, but the storks know their job, anyhow."

"We mustn't make too sure—of anything," said his mother, who had the best reasons for knowing that Miss Heritage would never be found either in Clairdelune or Märchenland, and that a shameful and probably exceedingly painful death on the scaffold was their inevitable fate.

It was terrible to think that she, the acknowledged head and master-mind of the family, had brought them to such an end as this—more terrible still to see both her son and husband so utterly unprepared for it. Her nerves were jarred and fretted by King Sidney's apathy and Clarence's light-hearted optimism, and the impossibility of arousing them to a proper sense of their position. She could only do that by confessing what she had done—and she shuddered at the mere thought. If it would save them—but nothing would do that now! No, she could not lower herself so immeasurably in their esteem; she would carry her secret with her to the block itself!

"Now, Mater," said Clarence, "you mustn't give way to the blues like this. You can take it from me that we're as right as rain. So cheer up, and let's see you smiling again."

The unhappy Queen made a heroic attempt at a smile, but the result was so extraordinarily ghastly that it disheartened even Clarence.

"Oh, very well, Mater," he said, "you needn't—if it hurts you as much as all that. But you've been so plucky up to now, I never thought you'd come out as a wet blanket!"

Even Marie Antoinette herself, thought Queen Selina bitterly, had never had to bear being called a wet blanket!

CHAPTER XXI "WHOSE LIGHTS ARE FLED, WHOSE GARLANDS DEAD"

Daphne had taken her seat in the car with somewhat conflicting feelings. She was going to Clairdelune, where she would be reunited to Giroflé—an altogether joyous prospect, if she could hope to find the Giroflé with whom she had last parted. But he was now the magnificent young Prince Mirliflor, and it was quite uncertain whether she would even be able to recognise him. It would be dreadful if she discovered that she did not care for him any longer! Perhaps it was anxiety, but still more probably the fact of her Fairy blood that prevented her from being overcome by the somnolence that none of purely British birth seemed able to resist for long after entering that magic car.

Daphne was not in the least drowsy, and thus was startled, after the Palace and Eswareinmal had vanished out of sight, by hearing the Baron suddenly order the storks to go to the Chapel in the forest of Schlangenzweigen, and seeing them wheel in a direction she knew was not that of their original destination. "What are you doing, Baron?" she cried. "I thought you were to take me straight to Clairdelune?"

The Baron put his hand to his heart (which he had once more been obliged to compress by a metal hoop) before he could speak. "It is now time," he began, "that you should be told who you are, Madam, and the glorious future that awaits you." And, with a prolixity that may here be avoided, he informed her of her right to the crown of Märchenland and of the Marshal's arrangements for placing her on the throne.

"But I don't want to be placed on the throne!" said Daphne. "Do you really think I should turn out these poor Wibberley-Stimpsons now—when they behaved so decently in letting me go? It would be too horribly mean of me if I did."

At this he thought it his duty to enlighten her upon Queen Selina's perfidy, which naturally altered Daphne's opinion, but did not shake her determination.

"If she is so keen about her crown she may keep it," she said. "All I care for now is to get to Clairdelune and see Giroflé—I mean Mirliflor."

"But," objected the Baron, employing the Marshal's argument, "we should arrive there days before the Prince."

"Then," said Daphne imperiously, "tell the storks to take us to him—wherever he is."

"If I did so," he objected, "the Marshal's plan would fall through!"

"And what if it does? How do you know that he's to be trusted? I always thought myself he had a bad face, and I don't feel at all inclined to put myself in his power. So you will please not be a pig, Baron, but do as I say."

No doubt her diction should have been more on a level with her dignity, but then it must be remembered that she had not been brought up as a prospective Fairy Queen.

"I am convinced," he persisted, "that the Marshal's devotion to your Majesty's cause is beyond suspicion."

"And I'm quite sure that it isn't," retorted Daphne. "If, as