Part 25 (1/2)

Tessie did pound on the gla.s.s then, but the chauffeur never turned his head. He just swung the car around another corner, and down another narrow street, and stopped before a brick house. He jumped out and opened the door and motioned to Tessie to step out. But Tessie never moved a muscle. She sat on the broad gray seat of the limousine, as if she never would step out.

”Suppose you take me home now,” she said coldly and calmly, although inwardly she was anything but calm and cold. ”I know Mrs. Kingley isn't here. And Miss Kingley isn't here, either. You've made a mistake. Take me to the Waloo Hotel at once!”

She spoke like a queen, as if she were accustomed to issuing orders and to being obeyed, and not at all like the frightened little girl she really felt. She told herself that it was ridiculous to feel frightened. Nothing could happen to her! Not on the street in Waloo in broad daylight!

It made her feel safer to see a group of small boys playing ball on the vacant lot next to the red brick house. One of the boys failed to catch the ball, and it rolled almost under the car.

”Take me home!” ordered Tessie, in her most royal manner.

But the chauffeur only showed his teeth. They made a white streak in his yellow face as he motioned toward the door of the red brick house.

”Ka-kee-ta,” he said very slowly and distinctly. ”You want Ka-kee-ta?”

”Ka-kee-ta!” That was a very different pair of shoes. So Miss Kingley, or perhaps it was Mrs. Kingley, had found Ka-kee-ta--although what he was doing away down here, miles from the Waloo, Tessie could not imagine--and had sent the chauffeur to take her to him. How kind! How very kind of the Kingleys. She jumped up, eager questions tumbling from her lips. ”Why is he here? Why didn't he come home? Is he hurt?” For she was sure that nothing but an injury would keep Ka-kee-ta away from her and from the Tear of G.o.d. She was glad she had the Tear of G.o.d in the safety bag around her waist. She could show Ka-kee-ta that it was safe.

Her face whitened as she thought that Ka-kee-ta might be, must be, badly injured. But still she hesitated to go to him. She stood on the running board of the car and looked up and down the narrow little street.

”Ka-kee-ta, he want you!” exclaimed the chauffeur, and he would have taken her arm to help her, but she pushed him away. She had taken a dislike to him, she did not know why, but she did not want him to touch her, although it was kind of him to bring her to Ka-kee-ta.

She glanced at the red brick house. Was that Ka-kee-ta's frizzled head at an upper window? It looked like it. So he was not badly injured, or he would not be at the window. She drew a long breath of relief. She would go and see what was the matter with him, and if it was nothing serious, she would give him a good big piece of her mind for worrying her. Of course, a queen would have to look after her bodyguard even if her bodyguard had been disobedient and careless. Indeed she would tell Ka-kee-ta what she thought of him.

She stepped forward hurriedly, and in her eagerness to tell Ka-kee-ta how disobedient he had been, she dropped her little beaded bag. It fell from the big embroidered pocket of her Canton crepe frock and rolled under the car, but Tessie never knew it. The chauffeur, who was close at her side, never knew it, either.

The door of the red brick house opened before Tessie could ring the bell, and she went in. The chauffeur waited until the door closed behind her, and then ran back to his car. He jumped in and drove rapidly away.

The small boy in search of his ball had to wait a minute, until the car had dashed away. And then he saw the beaded bag lying in the street beside the curb and beside the ball.

”Crickey!” he exclaimed, holding it up for the other boys to see. ”Look what I found!”

There was no one in the hall as the outside door closed behind Tessie.

She stood still for a second, feeling very small and neglected. Since she became a queen, she had been met at front doors with more or less ceremony, and it puzzled her that no one met her now. There was a door at her right. She walked toward it. She could not remember at just which window she had caught that glimpse of a frizzled head. Perhaps Ka-kee-ta was in the room at the right. But when she opened the door, she did not see Ka-kee-ta. She saw Frederic Pracht.

He stepped forward. ”Welcome!” he said pleasantly. ”Welcome, Your Majesty!”

”Why--why--” stammered Tessie, so surprised she could do nothing but stammer. She sent a hurried glance around the room, but she could not see a trace of her bodyguard. ”I thought Ka-kee-ta was here,” she managed to say after she had swallowed twice, and impatiently tossed her head to free the frightened lump in her throat.

Mr. Pracht laughed softly, unpleasantly. ”This is the Waloo headquarters of the Sons of Suns.h.i.+ne,” he explained gently, and as if she should know that Ka-kee-ta would never be found at the headquarters of that revolutionary organization.

”The Sons of Suns.h.i.+ne,” repeated Tessie faintly. The bright color left her face, her bones suddenly felt starchless and limp, but she looked bravely at Mr. Pracht. She remembered that Granny had told her that the Gilfoolys were never afraid. She must not let Mr. Pracht think that a Gilfooly could be afraid, but she half closed her eyes and wished with all of her heart that Joe Cary were with her--or Mr. Bill! If only Mr.

Bill were there, she would not mind the unpleasant little smile with which Mr. Pracht was regarding her. She would not mind anything!

”Yes. I am sure that you are going to be a most amiable and obliging queen, and grant the Sons of Suns.h.i.+ne what they ask,” Mr. Pracht said, and his voice was far more pleasant than his smile. It was too pleasant, so very pleasant that if Tessie had been any one but a valiant Gilfooly, she would have fainted immediately. ”If you refuse,” went on the unpleasantly pleasant voice, ”you will have to remain here until you see how reasonable their demands are. A strange people, Your Majesty--a strange people! And they have strange customs in their far-away islands.

I think I told you of some of them?” And he looked at her and shook his thatched tow-head.

Tessie straightened herself proudly. She would not let him see how frightened she was. She would die first.

”You told me of one,” she said as scornfully as she could, when she had no starch at all left in her bones. ”Something about boiling the kings they don't like in shark oil.” And she managed a contemptuous toss of her head, as if she did not believe a word of Mr. Pracht's story.

”Yes,” he agreed cheerfully. ”That is one of their little customs. But I am sure that they will not have to resort to it soon again. You cannot blame them for wanting a native ruler. You really have no claim on them.

Just because your uncle was an unscrupulous man, and influenced the old king to disinherit his sons, is no reason why the people should have to accept another white ruler when they don't want one.” He would have gone on to tell Tessie other things about the islands and the rebels, but she interrupted him.

”What do you want of me?” she asked bluntly.