Part 72 (2/2)
As he did this, his arm was caught roughly, and Thord thrust him aside.
”Do not touch her!” he muttered hoa.r.s.ely--”Let her rest in peace!”
Slowly the King raised his face. It was ashen grey and stricken old.
The dark, clear, grey eyes were sunken and dim,--the light of hope, ambition, love and endeavour, was quenched in them for ever.
”Was she unhappy, that she killed herself?” he asked, in a hushed voice.
Thord drew back, shuddering. Those sad, l.u.s.treless eyes of his Sovereign seemed to pierce his soul! He--the murderer of Lotys--could not face them! A vague whirl of thoughts tormented his brain,--he had heard it said that a murdered person's corpse would bleed in the presence of the murderer,--would the dead body of Lotys bleed now, he wondered dully, if he waited long enough? If so--the King would know! He started guiltily, as once more the sad, questioning voice broke on his ears.
”Was she unhappy, think you? You knew her better than I!”
Huskily, and with dry lips, Thord forced an answer.
”Nay, it is possible your Majesty knew her best!”
Again the sunken melancholy eyes searched his face.
”She was endowed with genius,--rich in every good gift of womanhood! I would have given my life for hers--my kingdom to spare her a moment's sorrow!” went on the King; ”But she would have nothing from me--nothing!”
”Nothing,--not even love!” said Thord recklessly.
”That she had, whether she would or no!”--replied the King, slowly,--”That she will have, till time itself shall end!”
Thord was silent. A pa.s.sion of mingled fury and remorse consumed him,--his heart was beating rapidly,--there were great pulsations in his brain like heavy hammer-strokes,--he was afraid of himself, lest on a savage impulse he should leap like a beast of prey on this grave composed figure,--this King,--who was his acknowledged ruler,--and kill him, even as he had killed Lotys! And then,--he thought of the People!--the People by whose great force and strong justice he had sworn to abide!--the People who had wors.h.i.+pped and applauded him,--the People who, if they ever knew the truth of him and his crime, would s.n.a.t.c.h him up and tear his body to atoms, as surely as he stood branded with Murder in G.o.d's sight this day! With a powerful effort he rallied his forces, and drawing from his breast the small folded paper which had been found on the body of Lotys, and which was inscribed with the words 'My Last Wish,' he held it out to the King.
”Then your Majesty will perhaps grant her the burial she here demands?”
he said--”It is a strange request!--but not difficult to gratify!”
Taking the paper, the monarch touched it tenderly with his lips before opening it. In all the blind stupefaction of his own grief, he was struck by the fact that there was something strained and unnatural about Thord's appearance,--something wild and forced even in his expression of sorrow. He studied his face closely, but to no purpose;--there was no clue to the mystery packed within the harsh lines of those dark, fierce features,--he seemed no more and no less than the same brooding, leonine creature that had mercilessly planned the deaths of men in his own Revolutionary Committee. There was no touch of softness in his eyes,--no tears, even at the sight of Lotys smiling coldly in her flower-strewn shroud. And now, unfolding her last message, the King beheld it thus expressed:
”To THOSE WHO SHALL FIND ME DEAD
”I pray you of your gentle love and charity, not to bury my body in the earth, but in the sea. For I most earnestly desire no mark, or remembrance of the place where my sorrows, with my mortal remains, shall be rendered back to nature; and kinder than the worms in the mould are the wild waves of the ocean which I have ever loved! And there,--at least to my own thoughts,--if any spiritual part of me remains to watch my will performed,--shall I be best pleased and most grateful to be given my last rest. LOTYS.”
This doc.u.ment had been written and signed some years back, and had, therefore, nothing to do with any idea of immediate departure from the world, or premeditated suicide. And once again the King looked searchingly at Thord, as he returned him the paper.
”Her will shall be performed!” he said--”And in a manner befitting her memory,--befitting the love borne to her by a People--and--a King!”
He paused,--then went on softly.
”To you Sergius, my friend and comrade!--to you will be entrusted the task of committing this sweet casket of a sweeter soul to the mercy of the waves!--you, the guardian of her childhood, the defender of her womanhood, the protector of her life----”
”O G.o.d! No more--no more!” cried Thord, suddenly falling on his knees by the couch of the dead--”No more--in mercy! I will do all--all! But leave me with her now!--leave me alone with her, this last little while!”
And breaking into great sobs, he buried his head among the death-flowers in an utter abandonment of despair.
Silently the King watched him for a little s.p.a.ce. Then he turned his eyes towards the pale form of the woman he had loved, and who had taught him the n.o.blest and most selfless part of love, sleeping her last sleep, with a fixed sweet smile upon her face.
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