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In Brief Authority

<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> <h3>AT THE END OF HER TETHER</h3> Both the Queen and Edna that morning had observed an unwonted stir in the usually quiet and sleepy streets of Eswareinmal as they looked down on them from the Terrace parapet. The great square was black with citizens, and from it rose a faint but angry drone that was unpleasantly suggestive of the results of pitching a large stone into a hornets' nest. "I expect," remarked Queen Selina, "they're all busy discussing this engagement of Clarence's. If we drive out this afternoon we mustn't forget to take at least two sacks of gold with us." "I doubt if we can afford to drive out at all just now," said Edna. "Perhaps," agreed her mother, "it would be wiser to wait till things have settled down a little. Why they should get so excited about it I can't think. It's most inconsiderate and troublesome of them—at a time, too, when, goodness knows, I've enough to worry about!" Just then she was chiefly harassed by a doubt whether she had been wholly wise in accepting the Marshal as a confederate, and especially in committing her secret instructions to writing. What if he knew or guessed her real reasons for getting rid of Miss Heritage? But, even if that were so, he had probably acted as he had out of goodwill and desire to maintain the dynasty. He had never shown the slightest jealousy or chagrin at having been deprived of the Regency. No, on the whole, she thought he could be trusted to be silent—if only because he could not betray her without admitting his own complicity. Still, there was a danger that he might presume on his knowledge—which would be disagreeable enough. If their Majesties were reluctant to show themselves just then to the populace, the populace on the other hand were determined to be both seen and heard. The proclamation of Clarence's betrothal had served as the breaking strain to the attenuated links that still attached them to the Throne. They had murmured against the enfranchisement of the Yellow Gnomes; their deception in the matter of the self-supplying tables had weakened their loyalty seriously for a time; the projected alliance of the Princess Edna with the surviving member of a race whose scutcheon bore the taint of Ogreism had aroused their bitter resentment. But all these grievances had been redressed, and the amiable easygoing Märchenlanders were willing to forgive and forget them. Now they were called upon to put up with a humiliation beyond all endurance. The prospect of seeing the throne occupied in days to come by a creature who was not only of dubious extraction, but probably did not possess so much as the rudiments of a soul, infuriated them to madness. So much so that the Royal Family had scarcely finished lunch when they were startled by news that the people were once more advancing en masse up the road to the Palace, and would soon be battering at the gates for admittance. "I can't see 'em," said King Sidney peevishly, plucking at his auburn moustache. "What am I to say to them about this engagement? There's nothing to say except that it's most——" "If you say that again, Sidney," said the Queen, "I shall throw something at you! Tell them the truth." "I—I'd rather the Council explained it to them, my dear," he said. "The Council have been sitting tight with closed doors all the morning," said Clarence, "like a bally lot of broody hens. I don't know, of course, but I've a notion they're discussing a Republic or something." "If you won't speak to the people, Sidney," declared the Queen, with the courage of despair, "I must order the guards to close the Courtyard gates, and tell the mob that, if they promise to be quiet and behave themselves, I'll come out and talk to them myself." "Good egg, Mater!" cried Clarence, "I'll come with you. It's really my show!" "You'll only make them worse! Much better keep indoors and take no notice. More dignified," said the King. But as his wife and son paid no attention to him, he followed them out for very shame. As they came down the front steps and advanced to within hearing distance of the crowd, which had not attempted as yet to break through the closed gates, they were received with yells and howls of execration, frantic shaking of fists and brandishing of improvised weapons. The strength of the gates and the presence of the guards gave the Queen more confidence than she might otherwise have felt. "Now, good people!" she said in rather a tremulous voice, "it's quite impossible to speak while you're making all this noise!" She had sent up for her crown, and perhaps this impressed them unconsciously, though she had been too nervous to put it on straight. Gradually silence was obtained. "I know why you've come," she began, "and we quite understand your feelings about our son's engagement. In fact we share them." This provoked a renewal of the uproar and a vehement desire to know why, if that were so, the union had ever been contracted. "If you'll only listen, I'll tell you," said the Queen. "We shouldn't have consented to it at all but for the sake of our beloved people." At this the beloved people very nearly had the gates down. "You don't understand," she shouted. "Even now, if you insist on the marriage being broken off, we are quite willing—indeed we shall be only too happy—to put a stop to it." Here there were shouts of "We do! We do insist! Stop it! No marriage!" "Very well then," said Queen Selina with more assurance, "only I am bound to tell you what the consequences will be. The Crystal Lake will overflow till the whole of Märchenland is under water. At least that's what the Lake King threatens. You know best whether he can do it or not." Her hearers knew too well, and the cries and murmurs took an altered tone at once, though some voices cursed the Prince whose weakness and folly had brought them to such a dilemma. "Weakness and folly!" cried the Queen indignantly. "How can you be so wretchedly ungrateful? When my poor, noble, unselfish boy is sacrificing himself—for you don't suppose he can have any affection for a Water-nixie?—sacrificing himself on—on the altar of his country!" "Mater!" whispered Clarence in admiration, "you're the limit!" "And all the reward he gets," the Queen went on, pressing her advantage, "all the reward we get—for providing that you can sleep safe and warm in your beds—instead of being drowned in them—is violence and rude remarks! Really, if you have any consciences left you ought to be thoroughly ashamed of yourselves!" They undoubtedly were. For a moment or two there was a hush, and then the whole mob broke into tumultuous cheers—for the Queen, the King, and more particularly the Crown Prince. Never since their accession had the Royal Family been so popular. "There now," said the Queen, when she and her family were weary of bowing their acknowledgments, "that will do. Now go quietly away, like respectable loyal persons, and tell all the other citizens what we're doing for them." "I must say, my love," observed the King, after the crowd had melted away in a vastly different mood from that in which they had come, "you showed wonderful presence of mind. I quite thought myself we should have been massacred." "And so we should have been, Sidney," she replied, "if I'd left it to you!" On re-entering the Palace they heard that the Council was still sitting. "Let 'em sit!" cried Clarence. "This'll be a bit of a suck for them. What price a Republic now, eh?" "They simply daren't depose us!" said the Queen, "now the dear people are with us heart and soul!" Some time later, while they were sitting in the lapis-lazuli Chamber, a page entered to announce that a messenger had just arrived with tidings which he wished to communicate to their Majesties in private. "Tell him to come in," said the Queen. "I do hope it isn't some fresh trouble!" The messenger brought grave news. The Marshal, it appeared, had been killed while hunting in the Forest. Particulars were wanting, but there was no doubt that he was dead. "How very very sad!" exclaimed the Queen. "The poor dear Marshal! To be cut off like this in the prime of life! It must have been a wild boar, I suppose—or a bear. But, whichever it was, it is a terrible loss. I don't know exactly how long the Court ought to go into mourning for an ex-Regent—but at least a month!" She was shocked, of course, by the suddenness of it. At the same time she could not help a renewed sense of gratitude to Providence, which had once more gone out of its way to smooth her path. "I've always said hunting these wild animals is a very dangerous sport," said King Sidney. "Glad you've given it up, my boy!" "Fed up with it, Guv'nor. But I dare say I shall go in for it again—some day or other," Clarence replied, while he was thinking that it would have to be a day when he discovered what had become of his irresistible sword, and when he could find a horse among his numerous stud that would permit him to get on its back. They were still discussing the Marshal's untimely end when an usher came from the Hall of Council with a message that the Councillors had ended their deliberations, and requested their Majesties to honour them by attending to hear their decision. "I like their nerve!" remarked Clarence. "Of course, Guv'nor, you'll tell 'em they've jolly well got to come to us, what?" "No, Sidney," said Queen Selina, flushed with her recent victory, "you will say that we are coming in presently to preside over the Council and give them our advice. I shall know how to put them in their proper places. I shall wear my crown again, and you had better put on yours, and—yes, I should certainly take your sceptre too." She kept them waiting as long as her own dignity demanded, and then sailed into the Council Chamber, the King and Crown Prince following in her wake. The whole Council rose and remained standing until the Royal Family had taken their seats under a canopy. The President then informed them that the Councillors had resolved to use every means to prevent a union which, if contracted, would infallibly cover the entire Kingdom with contempt. "Oh, very well, gentlemen," said the Queen. "I should have thought even that was better than having it covered with water—but if you in your wisdom think otherwise, we bow to your superior judgment." And she explained the situation much as she had done to the mob at the gates, though with less effect, for the President's answer was that, if such were the alternatives, their Majesties would best show their anxiety for their subjects' welfare by abdicating immediately. "I don't see that at all," she retorted. "Why in the world should we?" "Because," was the reply, "when this so-called King of the Crystal Lake learns that your son is no longer a Prince, he will cease to desire him for his daughter." "And may I ask, supposing we did abdicate, whom do you propose to put in our place?" inquired the Queen. "We should appoint Marshal Federhelm as Regent once more—or even elect him Sovereign." "A very pretty plan!" replied Queen Selina, "only there's one objection to it, as you would know if you hadn't shut yourselves up here all day. You will be sorry to hear that the poor Marshal was killed this very afternoon while hunting. So you can't get him. And, as there's no one else available, and as my husband and I feel that it would be very wrong to desert our dear people when they've just assured us of their perfect loyalty and affection—(another fact you seem to be ignorant of!)—I'm afraid, gentlemen, that, whether you like it or not, you will have to put up with us." "It is true, O Queen!" the President admitted with a deep groan. "We can do naught except pray that Heaven may yet save this most unhappy Country from so deep a degradation!" And all the other Members of the Council groaned too, while several beat their breasts or tore their long white beards in senile wrath and despair. "They are a cheery complimentary lot of old devils!" commented Clarence. "If I were you, Mater, I'd—what d'ye call it?—prorogue 'em." The Queen was inclined to accept this suggestion, but at that moment a loud rapping was heard at the closed doors. "Go and see who it is, somebody," she commanded, "it may be important news." She thought it probable that an attendant had come to announce the decease of the Fairy Vogelflug, which was hourly expected. The doors were partly opened, and then a voice she had never thought to hear again cried in weak and quavering accents: "Let me pass. I claim my right of admission as Court Godmother." The Queen changed colour, but felt that, inopportune as the demand was, she could not refuse it without laying herself open to suspicion, and perhaps worse. "Oh, let her come in, poor old soul," she said, "and find a seat for her. I'd really no idea she was well enough to get up." The Fairy hobbled feebly in, looking incredibly old and shrunken, and like a grim ghost of her former self in her clinging grey night-rail. Her hollow eyes glowed like live coals as she faced the Queen, and stood labouring for breath before she could speak. "So glad to see you looking so much better, dear Court Godmother!" said Queen Selina. "But was it wise of you to come downstairs so soon?" "I have visited the pavilion and found it untenanted," said the Fairy, without troubling to explain how she had contrived to elude her attendants and get there. "Now, answer me, what have you done with Lady Daphne?" "Oh, haven't they told you?" replied the Queen. "I should have consulted you, of course, if I had known you were conscious; but, as it was, I did what I thought you would wish and sent her off with the Baron in the stork-car this morning—to Clairdelune." "Is this the truth—or are you trying to deceive me by lies?" "Really!" cried the Queen, "this is most uncalled for! I don't know what you suppose I've done with the girl?" "You may have imprisoned—murdered her, for all I can tell. It is more likely than that you would permit her to depart so easily." "Well," said the Queen, "if you don't believe me, you have only to make inquiries. I was not in time to see her off myself, but I believe there are members of the Court who were more fortunate." Several Councillors corroborated this by affirming that they themselves had not only been present but had heard the Baron give the order, "To Clairdelune." "I daresay you don't think much of us, Ma'am," said Clarence, "but after all we're English, you know, and you might give us credit for playing the game, what?" He spoke with a resentment which convinced his Mother of her wisdom in having played her own game without seeking any co-operation from him. The old Fairy's suspicions had been completely quelled. "I perceive," she confessed, "that I have been over ready to think evil, and can but crave your forgiveness, Madam, for having done you so great an injustice." "Pray don't mention it!" returned the Queen. "There was some excuse for it, and we willingly forgive you, if there's anything to forgive. And now," she added, after ordering the attendants to be fetched, "you really must take more care of yourself and get back to bed at once." "I will return to it," was the reply, "for now that my mind is at ease I am well content to die." "Oh, but you mustn't talk like that!" protested Queen Selina, "when you've just made such a marvellous recovery! Why, you're looking ever so much brighter than any of us could have hoped. All you really need now is a good long sleep." "That is all, and I shall have it ere long. You may rest assured," she added, with a significance which the Queen alone understood, "that henceforth your peace shall not be disturbed by any word or deed of mine." The attendants entered and she suffered them to lead her away, while King Sidney graciously extended his sceptre for her to kiss in passing, but drew it back shamefacedly on finding this civility ignored. "It's evidently the last flicker, poor old thing!" said the Queen, after the Fairy had retired. "I don't at all expect we shall ever see her alive again!" If she had so expected, her conscience might have troubled her more than it did. As it was, it did not reproach her too severely. It was not nice to deceive a dying person, but it was much nicer than confessing and losing a Kingdom for it. It would have been too ridiculous to begin to be squeamish now. And, after all, it was her misfortune rather than her fault if the family interests had necessitated a slight temporary lapse from principles she still held as rigidly as ever. She dismissed her Council, which broke up in a chastened spirit, and the Royal Family, after a light meal which was the nearest approach to afternoon tea that Märchenland afforded, went out for an airing on their favourite promenade—the terrace that overlooked Eswareinmal. The market-place was still thronged, but such sounds as reached them were no longer menacing. "I do believe they haven't done cheering for us yet!" said the Queen. "And some of them seem to be waving flags! I shouldn't be the least surprised, Clarence, if your wedding next week goes off quite well after all!" "I wish it would go off," he said, "but there's no chance of that now!" "Well, it's no good being gloomy about it. Er—Forelle may turn out to be charming when we come to know her. Which reminds me, dear boy, you might tell her we should be delighted if she can come to tea here some afternoon before the ceremony." "She could easily slip up through the fountain," suggested Edna. "I shall be anxious to see how she does her hair. Let me see—didn't you say it was green, Clarence?" "Oh, give her hair a rest!" he replied. "I saw before we left England," said the Queen tactfully, "that green hair was going to be quite the fashion this season. But, however strange she may be to society, we should remember, Edna, my love, that she will shortly become one of ourselves and treat her with every civility. We must avoid anything that might offend her Father." Queen Selina was inclined that afternoon to take a more roseate view of the future. She felt herself once more secure on the throne now that all the dangers which had threatened to overturn it had been averted. The rival Queen would soon be landed in England, where, even if she ever heard of her rights, she would be powerless to claim them. Of the three persons who knew or might discover the truth, the Marshal was dead, the Court Godmother might just as well be so for all the harm she could do, and the Baron was on his way to a land from which he would never return. As for Mirliflor, it would not be difficult to persuade him that some blunder of the Baron's must have caused the stork-car to go astray, and it was quite possible that when the Prince had abandoned all hope of recovering Miss Heritage he would return to Edna. "Look at the dear people now!" she cried, as she looked down on the square, "they're actually forming a procession to march up to the Palace and thank us again!... Yes, they really are! It's quite wonderful the effect Clarence's self-sacrifice has had—it seems to have rallied them all round the Throne. But I knew it would, if it was put to them in the right way.... Did you hear that?" she asked later, when the procession had reached an angle of the zigzag incline which was directly below. "They're shouting for Me! I distinctly heard 'We want our Queen!' So nice and warm-hearted of them!" The shouts had ceased, but the tramp of thousands of feet grew louder, until the sound was deadened as the demonstrators passed under the wing of the Palace on their way to the central entrance. "Sidney, we must go in and show ourselves to them," said the Queen. "If they insist on a speech I will make it—you always manage to say the wrong thing!" As they entered the Palace they heard a clamour which appeared to proceed from the great Entrance Hall. "Quite right to have asked them in," remarked the Queen with approval. "I shall order some refreshments for them, and then we can go up by a back way and appear at the top of the Grand Staircase." But this part of the programme was not destined to be carried out. On attempting to pass through they were stopped, to the Queen's indignant amazement, in an inner hall by the Captain of her own Guards. "Really!" she cried, "I never heard of such a thing! What do you mean by it?" He either could not or would not give any other explanation than that he had instructions to detain them. "Prince Hansmeinigel!" said the Queen, as she saw him approaching, "can you inform us why his Majesty and I are prevented from addressing our faithful subjects?" "I think, Madam," he replied smoothly, "that you would find none here to address." "How dare you tell me that, when you can hear them calling for 'their Queen' at this very moment!" "But not for you, Madam. The Queen they are demanding is the Lady Daphne." "Miss Heritage!" gasped Queen Selina. "Why should they want her?" "It seems," he said, "that certain information has reached the Burgomaster and chief citizens which has convinced them of her title to the throne, and they are now in conference with the Council on the matter." "So that treacherous old vixen of a Court Godmother had betrayed the secret after all, in spite of her promise!" concluded Queen Selina. But the battle was not lost yet by any means. She was not going to give in, when she had so many chances in her favour. "They might have had the decency to invite us to be present," she said. "Surely we have some right to be consulted!" "They will summon you before them presently, no doubt," he said, and almost as he spoke an official came towards them and whispered to the Captain of the Guard, who turned to the Queen: "My orders are to bring you before the Council," he said, "if you will be good enough to follow me. We will go round by the outer corridor, so that you will be in no danger from the mob." "What's all this about, my dear?" whispered King Sidney, as he walked with his wife and son between a strong guard. "I thought things had quieted down again." "Oh, don't ask me, Sidney!" she returned, "you will know quite soon enough. But you needn't be uneasy. I've brought you through much worse things than this." She entered the Council Hall endeavouring to look as much like Marie Antoinette as she could. That her own Council should arraign her like this was, as she protested, most unconstitutional—they had no right whatever to do it. But, however that might be, they were doing it—a fact which even she was compelled to recognise. The President began the proceedings by reciting the evidence of Daphne's title, which it now appeared had been put into the hands of the Burgomaster and other notables of Eswareinmal by the Marshal, just before he had gone to meet his sudden end. He then asked, in the name of the whole Tribunal, what the present occupants of the throne had to urge in their own defence. If the Queen had possessed the legal mind she would have perceived at once that the evidence was merely hearsay—inferences that the Marshal had drawn from what Daphne had told him, and as proofs quite worthless. But she had not a legal mind; and besides she knew that the proofs were quite good enough for Märchenland—also that the allegations happened to be true. So she did not attempt to deny them. "All I can say is," she declared, "that this is quite new to me. When we were brought here I was given to understand that the Kingdom had descended to me, and of course I accepted the responsibility. If there has been any silly mistake about it, you can't blame me or my husband either. We've tried to do our duty—even so far as consenting to our son's making a marriage we could not approve of—for the sake of saving our Country from inundation. It's not every King and Queen who would have done that." "That peril," replied the Burgomaster, "is no longer to be feared, since the King of the Crystal Lake, on being notified of the facts in our possession, has withdrawn his demands, saying he desires no union with a family of ignoble and beggarly pretenders." "That's a let-off!" said Clarence, "though he might have put it a bit more pleasantly, what?" Queen Selina felt that this repudiation had put one of her heaviest guns out of action, but she was still undaunted. "I'm sure," she said, "We have no wish to be associated with such a person. And, as for being pretenders, I can only say that if the Marshal had come to me and told me what I now know, I should have been quite ready to resign in Miss Heritage's favour. But how could I, when he never breathed a word to me about it?" "I should like to add," put in King Sidney, "that it has come as a complete surprise to me. I'm anxious to do whatever is right and proper, and if any reasonable arrangement can be come to, I won't stand in the way." This attitude produced an immediate reaction in their favour, as was visible from the expressions on the faces of the whole Tribunal. "Then," the President asked, "is the Council to understand that you are prepared to resign at once?" "Certainly," said the King. "Only too pleased!" "Not at once," said Queen Selina. "We cannot leave the Kingdom without a ruler—that would be very wrong. But as soon as Miss Heritage—or Queen Daphne, if you like to call her so—chooses to come forward to claim the crown we shall be delighted to give it up. Till then we are merely holding it in trust for her." "And where is Queen Daphne at present?" asked the Burgomaster. "Well," said Queen Selina, "she ought to be at Clairdelune by this time." "She must be sent for without delay," said the President, and the order was given that messengers on swift steeds should be despatched to Clairdelune at once. "Well, gentlemen," said the Queen, after this business had been concluded, "I hope you see that you owe us an apology for daring to put us under arrest and treat us like criminals. Until Lady Daphne arrives we are still the King and Queen of Märchenland, and you will be good enough to regard us as such." "The Council wishes to express its deepest regret," said the President, "for having exposed your Majesties' persons to undeserved indignity." "And now, perhaps," said Queen Selina triumphantly, "we may consider ourselves free to resume our thrones, if only to dissolve the Council?" The guards fell back instinctively, and she and the King were proceeding to their usual seats under the canopy without any protest from the President, who was engaged at the time in deciphering the contents of a packet which had just been brought to him. Before they had reached the steps of the dais, he looked up, and ordered them to halt in so peremptory a tone that even Queen Selina obeyed involuntarily. "What's up now?" inquired Clarence in an undertone. "This packet directed to myself," said the President, "was found on the body of the late Marshal. It contains an order under the Royal seal and signature, which I will now read to the Council." And he read the Queen's secret order to the Baron to convey Daphne to England, which provoked general horror and execration. The Queen was thunderstruck as she heard this fresh proof of the Marshal's duplicity—she felt more than ever that she had been a fool to trust him—she might have known that he would take some dishonourable advantage of her confidence! "What have you to answer to this?" the President was saying to her, and she could see that both her husband and son were waiting anxiously for her reply. "Is it necessary for me to deny that I ever gave such an order?" she said, with a virtuous indignation that was really very well done. "Of course it was forged by that wicked Marshal!" (so fortunate, she thought, that he was dead!) "It is easy to see with what motive." Clarence and his father breathed again. For a few dreadful minutes they had been haunted by an ugly fear—lest—but they ought to have felt assured that no member of the Wibberley-Stimpson family could be so unworthy of the name. "It is possible," said the venerable President doubtfully, "that the handwriting may be but an imitation." "Nay," struck in the sturdy Burgomaster, "it is hers, sure enough. There can be no doubt to my mind that both our unlawful sovereigns and their son have plotted to deport our true Queen, the Lady Daphne, and that their vile design has succeeded but too well!" "You're quite out of it, old cock!" shouted Clarence, through the roar of assent that greeted the Burgomaster's speech. "Why should we plot against her, when we hadn't an idea she had a right to the throne?" "So you allege," said the Burgomaster. "But this order speaks for itself, and if the Council will take my advice it will order all three of the prisoners to be executed at once in the City Square, in sight of the people they have wronged and deceived." This suggestion evidently commended itself to the majority, but the President demurred. "We must not act too hastily," he said, "lest we find too late that we have been misled by appearances. It may be that Queen Daphne has reached Clairdelune in safety, but of that we cannot have sure knowledge until our messengers return. In the meantime our prisoners must not be regarded as though they were proved guilty. I shall order that they be removed to apartments in the North Tower, where they are to be given honourable treatment and every indulgence save their liberty. Should it be found that they are innocent, due reparation shall be made them." "And what if we hear that our Queen is not at Clairdelune?" asked the Burgomaster. "Then they shall receive no mercy," replied the President. "Their heads shall be struck off that same day, in the great square of the Capital." "Good!" said the Burgomaster. "I will have the scaffold put up the moment I return." "I just want to say this, Gentlemen," said Clarence before he was led away: "if we were really guilty of trying to get rid of poor little Lady Daphne, we should be such a set of rotters that we should jolly well deserve losing our heads for it. But you'll find we're not." "I can answer for my poor wife as for myself," said King Sidney. "She is far too much of a lady to dream of doing anything that isn't strictly correct." Queen Selina said nothing—she was not feeling well enough just then. "Not half bad!" remarked Clarence, as he went through the suites of rooms that were to form their prison. "Pleasant look-out from all the windows, and the rooms jolly comfortable, considering. We shall do very well here for a day or two." "Don't talk in that light way, Clarence," said his mother, "or you'll drive me mad!" "Why, there's nothing to be down in the mouth about, Mater. We may have to stick this longer, of course—depends how long those chaps take getting back from Clairdelune. But as soon as they do get back we shall be let out, and I shouldn't wonder if the Country gave us a thundering good pension. It's no more than it ought to." "You—you mustn't count on that. You—we must all of us prepare for the worst, the very worst." "What skittles, Mater! What can they do to us, unless, of course, Daphne wasn't sent to Clairdelune. But I saw her in the car myself." "It—it doesn't follow that—that she got there, Clarence." "Why on earth shouldn't she?" "The Baron might—might have missed the way somehow." "Not he! He may be an old foozle, but the storks know their job, anyhow." "We mustn't make too sure—of anything," said his mother, who had the best reasons for knowing that Miss Heritage would never be found either in Clairdelune or Märchenland, and that a shameful and probably exceedingly painful death on the scaffold was their inevitable fate. It was terrible to think that she, the acknowledged head and master-mind of the family, had brought them to such an end as this—more terrible still to see both her son and husband so utterly unprepared for it. Her nerves were jarred and fretted by King Sidney's apathy and Clarence's light-hearted optimism, and the impossibility of arousing them to a proper sense of their position. She could only do that by confessing what she had done—and she shuddered at the mere thought. If it would save them—but nothing would do that now! No, she could not lower herself so immeasurably in their esteem; she would carry her secret with her to the block itself! "Now, Mater," said Clarence, "you mustn't give way to the blues like this. You can take it from me that we're as right as rain. So cheer up, and let's see you smiling again." The unhappy Queen made a heroic attempt at a smile, but the result was so extraordinarily ghastly that it disheartened even Clarence. "Oh, very well, Mater," he said, "you needn't—if it hurts you as much as all that. But you've been so plucky up to now, I never thought you'd come out as a wet blanket!" Even Marie Antoinette herself, thought Queen Selina bitterly, had never had to bear being called a wet blanket! <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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