Part 62 (2/2)

It was true!--he, the King,--whom they had accepted and known as Pasquin Leroy,--was verily their own comrade! He had proved himself a thousand times their friend and helper!--they had sworn to defend him at the cost of their own lives, if need be,--to shelter and protect him in all circ.u.mstances, and to accept all the consequences of whatever danger he might run in the performance of his duty. His duty now,--according to the fatal drawing of lots,--was that he should kill the King; and he had declared himself ready to fulfil the task by killing himself! But--as he was their comrade--they were bound in honour to guard his life!

These bewildering and maddening thoughts coursed like fire through the brain of Sergius Thord,--the while his eyes, grown suddenly dark and bloodshot, rested wonderingly on the tall upright figure of the monarch, standing quietly face to face with the blood-thirsty Revolutionary Committee, entirely unmoved by their fierce and lowering looks, and on Lotys, white, beautiful and breathless, kneeling at his feet! A crus.h.i.+ng sense of impotence and failure rushed over his soul like a storm wave,--his brain grew thick with the hurrying confusion, and a great cry, like that of a wounded animal, broke from his lips.

”My G.o.d! My G.o.d! All my life's work lost--in a single moment!”

The King heard. Gently, and with careful courtesy, raising Lotys from the position in which she had thrown herself to guard him from attack for the second time, he pressed her hands tenderly in his own.

”Trust me!” he whispered; ”Have no fear! Not a man among them will touch me now!”

With a slight gesture he signed her back to the chair she had previously occupied. She sank into it, trembling from head to foot, but her eyes feverishly brilliant and watchful, were widely open and alert, ready to note the least movement or look that indicated further danger. Then the King addressed himself to Thord.

”Sergius, I am entirely in your hands! I wait your word of command!

You are armed,--all my companions here are armed also! But Lotys has deprived me of the only weapon I possessed,--though there are plenty more in the room to be had on loan. What say you? Shall I kill the King?

Or will you?”

Thord was silent. A strong shudder shook his frame. The King laid a firm hand on his shoulder.

”Friend!” he said in a low voice; ”Believe me, I am your friend more than ever!--you never had, and never will have a truer one than I! All your life's work lost, you say? Nay, not so! It is gained! You conquered the People before I knew you,--and now you have conquered the People's King!”

Slowly Thord raised his great, dark, pa.s.sionate eyes, clouded black with thoughts which could find no adequate expression. The look in them went straight to the monarch's heart. Baffled ambition,--the hunger of greatness,--the desire to do something that should raise his soul above such common ruck of human emmets as make of the earth the merest ant-hill whereon to eat and breed and die;--all this pent-up emotion swam luminously in the fierce bright orbs, which like mirrors, reflected the picture of the troubled mind within. The suppressed power of the man, who, apart from his confused notions of 'liberty, equality, and fraternity' could resort to the sternest and most self-endangering measures for destroying what he considered the abuses of the law, had moved the King, while disguised as Pasquin Leroy, to the profoundest admiration for his bold character;--but perhaps he was never more moved than at this supreme moment, when, hopelessly entangled in a net of most unexpected weaving, the redoubtable Socialist had to confess himself vanquished by the simple friends.h.i.+p and service of the very monarchy he sought to destroy.

”Sergius,” said the King again,--”Trust me! Trust me as your Sovereign, with the same trust that you gave to me as your comrade, Pasquin! For I am still your comrade, remember! Nothing can undo the oath that binds me to you and to the People! I have not become one of you to betray you; but to serve you! Our present position is certainly a strange one!--for by the tenets you hold, we should be sworn opponents, instead of, as we are, sworn friends! Political agitators would have set us one against the other for their own selfish ends; as matters stand, we are united in the People's Cause; and I may perhaps do you more good living than dead! Give me a chance to serve you even better than I have done as yet!

Still,--if you judge my death would be an advantage to the country,--you have but to say the word! I have sworn,--and I am ready to carry out the full accomplishment of my vow! Do you understand? You are, by the rules of this Committee my Chief!--there are no kings here; and I am good soldier enough to obey orders! It is for you to speak!--straightly, plainly, and at once,--to the Committee,--and to me!”

”Before G.o.d, you are brave!” muttered Thord, gazing at him in reluctant admiration. ”So brave, that it is almost impossible to believe that you can be a King!”

He smiled.

”Speak! Speak, my friend!” he urged; ”Our comrades are watching our conference like famished tigers! Give them food!”

Thus adjured, Thord advanced, and confronted the murmuring, gesticulating crowd of men, some of whom were wrathfully expostulating with Johan Zegota, because he declined to unlock the door of the room and let them out, till he had received his Chief's commands to do so.

Others were grouped round Paul Zouche, who had sat apparently stricken immovable in his chair ever since the King had declared his ident.i.ty; and others showed themselves somewhat inclined to 'hustle' Sir Roger de Launay and Professor von Glauben, who guarded the approach to the platform like sentinels,--though they were discreet enough to show no weapons of defence.

”Comrades!”

The rich, deep voice of their leader thrilled through the room, and brought them all to silence and attention.

”Comrades!” said Thord slowly,--his accents vibrating with the deepest emotion. ”I desire and command you all to be satisfied that no wrong has been done to you! I ask you all to understand, fully and surely, that no wrong is intended to you! The man whom we have loved,--the man who has served us faithfully as Pasquin Leroy,--is still the same man, though the King! Rank cannot alter his proved friends.h.i.+p and service,--nor kings.h.i.+p break his bond! He is one of us,--signed and sealed in the blood of Lotys;--and as one of us he must, and will remain! Have I spoken truly?” he added, turning to the King, ”or is there more that I should say?”

Before any reply could be given a hubbub of voices cried:--

”Explain! Confess! Bind him to his oath!”

Whereat the King, stepping forward a pace or two, confronted his would-be doubters and detractors with a dauntless composure.

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