MONARCH.

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 189, 11 August 1934, Page 3 (Supplement)

MONARCH.

(B7 Alma Wynn, Queen Street, Wullil; age 16 years.) Maxns -went clothed in red velvet and arrogance. Rubies glowed deeply in the froth, of lace at Ms throat. "I am a king," said Maxus. The Trorde were pleasant to his ear. He turned in his stride so eharply that the jewelled sword clanged at his knee. The lackeys hovered uncertainly;, fear lurked in their humble, lowered eyes. ( Maxus tapped sharply on the polished marble floor. "My carriage!" he demanded. The lackeys fluttered. A blue vein ■welled down Maxus' forehead. < "My carriage!" he stormed. "May I not have what I demand? Am I not king? Ma foi —do you all wish to lose your heads ?" Blue-clad lackeys fled; fear winged their feet. Maxus watched them go; a slow smjle twisted his lips. He was savouring power and he found the savouring sweet. He turned to scan his image in an enormous framed mirror. '.The image looked back smilingly. There was admiration in the smile. "Superb," said Maxus. He posed with his hand at his jewelled sword's hilt. "Admirable. Maxus —you are a great man and a handsome king. A handsome king. ,2 He tinned lingeringly and walked slowly through, the mirrored hall. A satisfied smile twisted the lips above the cream lace. . The crimson carriage waited- at the palace steps. "Drive to the town," said Maxue shortly. "Quickly!" his eyes flashed gtormily. "Lf I for speed I shall have it!" He leaned back in his silken-cushioned eeat pompouslv, fingering the rubies that burned at his throat. .Smiling faintly, hi: turned his head from side to side. The streets on cither side were crowded with people, hatlcss, cheering. , Adulation was to Maxus as the wine of life. There were many things that he loved —himself, his palace, his rubies. But almost as . much he loved the adulation of the. people. But he loved, too. the pietmesque, garish marketplace. But lie l>.ved it from afar. Never vet had ho descended from his carriage in mingle with the common people. To-day he stopped the carriage when lie enteral the market place. The crowd on the side walks pressed cloee and cheered. Prenently the people would move on. lie knew, for work must be done, even though there be a king and lie rubies to be~ admired. But for the ■while he enjoyed their adulation. It fed his vanity; it bolstered his pride.

"They know me for a great and handsome king," he thought. He watched the crowd with a faint smile —half-mocking, half-arrogant. His gaze swept over the blur of laughing faces. Then suddenly, sharply, his gaze became riveted. A small girl stood at the edge of the crowd—^black-haired, brown-eyed, with lips that were made for laughter. But her lips were mobile. There was scorn veiled in the eyes that were fixed on his. The soul of Maxus received a rude ehock. That anyone should dare to look at him like that! Anger rose like a surging tide. Insolence! He glanced about. The crowd, their momentary curiosity satisfied, were dispersing fast. But the girl stood motionless —a porcelain statue in her white frock and apron. Hot anger flushed his face and swelled the blue vein in the centre of hie forehead. He leaned further forward and beckoned imperiously. The girl moved t6ward him, elowly, reluctantly. Hot anger blurred the king's gaze. "Why do you not cheer?"/he stormed. "Am I not your king? Am I not a great king —a good king? It is insolerce —it is—it is—" Maxus choked. The girl did not shift her gaze. Scorn was barely veiled in her brown eyes. Something in the steady gaze confused the king. "Your-your name?" he stuttered. "Andria," she answered. The king's mouth twisted. "Do you not say 'Your Majesty,' when you speak to your king?" Maxus' voice, was shaking, entirely out of control. Andria did not answer. She stood motionless, and now there was amusement in her eyes. s The king made a helpless gesture; he sank back, and his voice was scarcely more than a whisper when he spolje. "Drive on." He crouched among his silken cushions. A mirrored wall faced him, but he saw nothing but the scornful amusement in a girl's brown eyes. Was he not a king? A great and handsome king? For a moment, for one traitorous moment, he was not sure. He raised himself tremblingly and peered into the mirror. A cry escaped him. The image in the mirror was of a man with arrogant eyes and cruel, twisted lips. An evil face, a pompous, arrogant face, with a froth of lace beneath in which rubies nestled. He sank back. No-no! It was not so. The minor had lied. He was a great man, a groat king. Down, down ho crushed the memory of the face he had seen in the mirror. He straightened again arrogantly. ""Drive faster!" he shouted. The blue vein swelled in his forehead. The caVriaue eathored speed. Once more Maxue tasted power, and the savour was sweet. "I am a great king," he said. Smiling, he fingered the rubies (hat burned in the lace at his throat.