Part 51 (1/2)
”I am also another actor on the boards,” continued Del Fortis smiling darkly;--”if only as a spectator in the 'super' crowd. And other comedians and tragedians are doubtless present, of whom we may hear anon!”
”The King has nasty humours sometimes,” said Jost shortly, looking down at the flower in his b.u.t.tonhole, and absently flicking off one of its petals with his fat forefinger--”He ought to be made to pay for them!”
”Ha, ha! Very good! Certainly!” and Del Fortis gave a piously-deprecating nod--”He ought to be made to pay! Especially when he hurts the feelings of his old friends! Are you going, Mr. Jost? Yes?
What a pity! But you no doubt have your reporters present?”
”Oh, there are plenty of them about,”--said Jost carelessly, ”But I shall condense all the account of these proceedings into a few lines.”
”Ha,--ha!” laughed Del Fortis,--”I understand! Revenge--revenge!
But--in certain cases--the briefest description is sometimes the most graphic--and startling! Good-day!”
Jost returned the salute curtly, and went,--not to leave the scene altogether, but merely to take up a position of vantage immediately above and behind the surging crowd, where from a distance he could watch all that was going on. He saw the King lift his hand towards the ropes and pulleys of the crane above him,--and as it was touched by the Royal finger, the foundation stone was slowly lowered into the deep socket prepared for it, where gold and silver coins of the year's currency had already been strewn. Then, with the aid of a silver trowel set in a handle of gold, and obsequiously presented by the managing director of the scheme, his Majesty dabbed in a little mortar, and declared in a loud voice that the stone was 'well and truly laid.' A burst of cheering greeted the announcement, and the band struck up the country's National Hymn, this being the usual sign that the ceremony was at an end.
Whereupon the King, shaking hands again cordially with the various parties concerned, and again shedding the l.u.s.tre of his smile upon the various ladies with whom he had been conversing, made his way very leisurely to his State equipage, which, with its six magnificently caparisoned horses, stood prepared for his departure, the door being already held open for him by one of the attendant powdered and gold-laced flunkeys. Sir Roger de Launay walked immediately behind his Sovereign, and Professor von Glauben was close at hand, companioned by two of the gentlemen of the Royal Household. All at once a young man pushed himself out of the crowd nearest to the enclosure,--paused a moment irresolute, and then, with a single determined bound reached the King's side.
”Thief of the People's money! Take that!” he shouted, wildly,--and, brandis.h.i.+ng aloft a glittering stiletto, he aimed it straight at the monarch's heart!
But the blow never reached its destination, for a woman, closely veiled in black, suddenly threw herself swiftly and adroitly between the King's body and the descending blade, s.h.i.+elding his breast with both her outstretched arms. The dagger struck her violently, piercing her flesh through the upper part of her right shoulder, and under the sheer force of the blow, she fell senseless.
The whole incident took place in less time than it could be breathlessly told,--and even as she who had risked her life to save the King's, sank bleeding to the ground, the police seized the a.s.sa.s.sin red-handed in his mad and criminal act, and wrenched the murderous weapon from his hand.
He was a mere lad of eighteen or twenty, and seemed dazed, submitting to be bound and handcuffed without a word. The King, perfectly tranquil and unhurt, bared his head to the wild cries and hysterical cheering of the excited spectators to whom his narrow escape from death appeared a kind of miracle, moving them to frantic paroxysms of pa.s.sionate enthusiasm, and then bent anxiously down over the prostrate form of his rescuer, endeavouring himself to raise her from the ground. A hundred hands at once proffered a.s.sistance;--Sir Roger de Launay, pale to the lips with the shock of sick horror he had experienced at what might so easily have been a national catastrophe, a.s.sisted the police in forming a strong cordon round the person of his beloved Royal master, in order to guard him against any further possible attack,--and Professor von Glauben, obeying the King's signal, knelt down by the unconscious woman's side to examine the extent of her injury. Gently he turned back the close folds of her enveloping veil,--then gave a little start and cry:
”Gott in Himmel!” And he hastily drew down the veil again as the King approached with the question--
”Is she dangerously hurt?”
”No, Sir!--I think not--I hope not--but--!”
And the Professor's eyes looked volumes of suggestion. Catching his expression, the King drew still nearer.
”Uncover her face,--give her air!” he commanded.
With a perplexed side-glance at Sir Roger de Launay, the Professor obeyed,--and the suns.h.i.+ne fell full on the white calm features and closed eyelids of ”the woman known as Lotys.” Her black dress was darkly stained and soaked with oozing blood--and the deep dull gold of her hair was touched here and there with the same crimson hue;--but there was a smile on her lips, and her face was as fair and placid as though it had been smoothed out of all pain and trouble by the restful touch of Death.
Silently, and with a perfectly inscrutable demeanour, the King surveyed her for a moment. Then, raising his plumed hat with grave grace and courtesy, he looked on all those who stood about him, soldiery, police and spectators.
”Does anyone here present know this lady?” he demanded.
A crowd of eager heads were pushed forward, and then a low murmur began, which deepened into a steady roar of delighted acclamation.
”Lotys! Lotys!”
The name was caught up quickly and repeated from mouth to mouth--till away on the extreme outskirts of the crowd it was tossed back again with shouts--”Lotys! Lotys!”
Swiftly the news ran like an electric current through the whole body of the populace, that it was Lotys, their own Lotys, their friend, their fellow-worker, the idol of the poorer cla.s.ses, that had saved the life of the King! Half-incredulous, half-admiring, the mob listened to the growing rumour, and the general excitement increased in intensity among them. David Jost, from his point of observation, caught the infection, and realizing at once the value of the dramatic ”copy” for his paper, to be obtained out of such a situation, jumped into the nearest vehicle and was driven straight to his offices, there to send electric messages of the news to every quarter of the world, and to endeavour by printed loyal outbursts of ”gush” to turn the current of the King's displeasure against him into a more favourable direction. Meanwhile the King himself gave orders that his wounded rescuer should be conveyed in one of the Royal carriages straight to the Palace, and there attended by his own physician. Professor von Glauben was entrusted with the carrying-out of this command,--and the monarch, then entering his own State-equipage, started on his homeward progress.
Thundering cheers now greeted him at every step;--for an hour at least the populace went mad with rapture, shouting, singing and calling alternately for ”The King!” and ”Lotys!” with no respect of persons, or consideration as to their differing motives and opposite stations in life. Two facts only were clear to them,--first an attempt had been made to a.s.sa.s.sinate the King,--secondly, that Lotys had frustrated the attempt, and risked her own life to save that of the monarch. These were enough to set fire to the pa.s.sionate sentiments of a warm-blooded, restless Southern people, and they gave full sway to their feelings accordingly. So, amid deafening plaudits, the Royal procession wended its way back to the Citadel, the State-coach moving at a snail's pace in order to allow the people to see the King for themselves, and make sure he was uninjured, as they cheered, and followed it in surging throngs to the very gates of the Palace,--while in another and reverse direction the wretched youth whose miserable effort to commit a dastard crime had so fortunately failed, was marched off, under the guard of a strong body of police to the State-Prison, there to await his trial and condemnation. A small crowd, hooting and cursing the criminal, pursued him as he went, and one personage, austere and dignified, also followed, at a distance, as though curious to see the last of the would-be murderer ere he was shut out from liberty,--and this was Monsignor Del Fortis.