Part 32 (1/2)
”MORGANATIC” OR--?
The Royal 'at home' was soon over. Many of those who had the felicity of breathing in the King's presence that afternoon remarked upon his Majesty's evident good health and high spirits, while others as freely commented on the unapproachableness and irritability of the Marquis de Lutera. Sir Walter Langton, the great English traveller, who was taking his leave of the Sovereign that day, being bound on an expedition to the innermost recesses of Africa, was not altogether agreeably impressed by the Premier, whom he met on this occasion for the first and only time.
They had begun their acquaintance by talking generalities,--but drifted by degrees into the dangerous circle of politics, and were skirting round the edge of various critical questions of the day, when the Marquis said abruptly:
”An autocracy would not flourish in your country, I presume, Sir Walter?
The British people have been too long accustomed to sing that they 'never, never will be slaves.' Your Government is really more or less of a Republic.”
”All Governments are so in these days, I imagine,” replied Langton.
”Autocracy on the part of a monarch is nowhere endured, save in Russia,--and what is Russia? A huge volcano, smouldering with fire, and ever threatening to break out in flame and engulf the Throne! Monarchs were not always wisdom personified in olden times,--and I venture to consider them nowadays less wise and more careless than ever. Only a return to almost barbaric ignorance and superst.i.tion would tolerate any complete monarchical authority in these present times of progress. It is only the long serfdom of Russia that hinders the triumph of Liberty there, as elsewhere.”
The Marquis listened eagerly, and with evident satisfaction.
”I agree with you!” he said. ”You consider, then, that in no country, under any circ.u.mstances, could the people be expected to obey their monarch blindly?”
”Certainly not! Even Rome, with its visible spiritual Head and Sovereign, has no real power. It imagines it has; but let it make any decided step to ensnare the liberties of the people at large, and the result would be somewhat astonis.h.i.+ng! Personally--” and he smiled gravely--”I have often thought that my own country would be very much benefited by a couple of years existence under an autocrat--an autocrat like Cromwell, for example. A man strong and fierce, intelligent and candid,--who would expose shams and destroy abuses,--who would have no mercy on either religious, social, or political fraud, and who would perform the part of the necessary hard broom for sweeping the National house. But, unfortunately, we have no such man. You have,--in your Sergius Thord!”
The Premier heard this name with unconcealed amazement.
”Sergius Thord! Why he is a mere fanatic----”
”Pardon me!” interrupted Sir Walter,--”so was Cromwell!”
”But, my dear sir!” remonstrated the Marquis smilingly,--”Is it possible that you really consider Sergius Thord any sort of an influence in this country? If you do, I a.s.sure you you are greatly mistaken!”
”I think not,” responded Sir Walter quietly; ”With every respect for you, Marquis, I believe I am not mistaken! Books written by Sergius Thord are circulating in their thousands all over the world--his speeches are reported not only here, but in journals which probably you never hear of, in far-off countries,--in short, his propaganda is simply enormous. He is a kind of new Rousseau, without,--so far as I can learn,--Rousseau's private vices. He is a man I much wished to see during my stay here, but I have not had the opportunity of finding him out. He is an undoubted genius,--but I need not remind you, Marquis, that a man is never a prophet in his own country! The world's 'celebrity' is always eyed with more or less suspicion as a strange sort of rogue or vagabond in his own native town or village!”
At that moment, the King, having concluded a conversation with certain of his guests, who were thereupon leaving the Throne-room, approached them. He had not spoken a word to the Premier since returning him his signet-ring, but now he said:
”Marquis, I was almost forgetting a special request I have to make of you!”
”A request from you is a command, Sir!” replied Lutera with hypocritical deference and something of a covert sneer, which did not escape the quick observation of Sir Walter Langton.
”In certain cases it should be so,” returned the King tranquilly; ”And in this you will probably make it so! I have received a volume of poems by one Paul Zouche. His genius appears to me deserving of encouragement.
A grant of a hundred golden pieces a year will not be too much for his hundred best poems. Will you see to this?”
The Marquis bowed.
”I have never heard of the man in question,” he replied hesitatingly.
”Probably not,” returned the King smiling;--”How often do Premiers read poetry, or notice poets? Scarcely ever, if we may credit history! But in this case----”
”I will make myself immediately acquainted with Paul Zouche, and inform him of your Majesty's gracious intention,” the Marquis hastened to say.
”It is quite possible he may refuse the grant,” continued the King; ”Sometimes--though seldom--poets are prouder than Prime Ministers!”
With a brief nod of dismissal he turned away, inviting Sir Walter Langton to accompany him, and there was nothing more for the Marquis to do, save to return even as he had come, with two pieces of information puzzling his brain,--one, that the King's 'veto' had stopped a declaration of war,--unless,--which was a very remote contingency,--he and his party could persuade the people to go against the King,--the other, that some clever spy, with the a.s.sistance of a fraudulent imitation of his signet-ring, had become aware of the financial interests involved in a private speculation depending on the intended war, which included himself, Carl Perousse, and two or three other members of the Ministry. And, out of these two facts might possibly arise a whole train of misfortune, ruin and disgrace to those concerned.
It was considerably past three o'clock in the afternoon when the King, retiring to his own private cabinet, desired Sir Roger de Launay to inform Prince Humphry that he was now prepared to receive him. Sir Roger hesitated a moment before going to fulfil the command. The King looked at him with an indulgent smile.