UNEASY LIES THE HEAD.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7328, 14 February 1902, Page 4

UNEASY LIES THE HEAD.

(By CHARLES EDWARDS.) CHAPTER I. THE KING'S MOODS. The- King's capital was a volcano ; beautiful with its outer adornment of triumphal arches, flags, banners, gay lanterns, to be lighted' when the moon, appeared, and faces tmt smiled; but with a hot red core to it, prepared at any moment to flame forth and spread death and destruction. And 'the young King himself was like his city. „. -, To his servants and the public he was as happy as his natural gifts, high position, and his approaching marriage with the Princess .Zurali could not but make aim; yet in his own chamber he slipped off his cloak and was sad aid tired. Only when, his eyes rested on the portrait of Zurali was his sadness exorcised, and then but so long *s he gazed at her. \ To him here came the Duke of Skem, his cousin, who !had these three years played on the young King's mind as a man on a flute. • . . No one in the realm had. the privilege of access at will to the inner royal apartments save only the Duke. The King bad thought of late how he might cancel this privilege. But the Duke was not a man to be treated lightly. "Well," said the King, glancing at jus cousin, " are your reports more favourable?" The Duke had large dark eyes, calm as a contented cat's. "With your Majesty's permission,' he ■aid, "I will smoke." . _ He leaned against one of the white marble figures of the mantel, eyed the King, held his shapely, jewelled hands towards tShe burning logs on the hearth for. a moment and then, drew out his cigar-case. "With your majesty's permissiion, I will mnoke," he said again. "Or without it, I suppose, said the King. The Duke bent his'head. ""As the most indefatigable of your malesty's slaves, methinks," be murmured!, " I lave not altogether merited such, a rebuff." The King rose and extended his hand!. "Forgive me, George!" he said: "The cares of the crown sour me moTB every day. But I mean it. You have been, snore than the King.ever since my father died commending me to you and you to one, and — «nd-" . - • "And now your Majesty would relegate the poor crutch to the corner, for the dust «md worms to corrupt." " No, George, you wrong me." "I hope so, sire." "You wrong me to suggeEt that I could I*> ungrateful. I, am of age. I aim marryinjr Zurali—Ah, you etart!" There was no change in the- Duke's expression, but the faintest of flushes ran over his bronzed cheeks, as a breeze shimmers the heads of the wheat in a field. "You are jealous of my Zurali,". said 1 the Sing. The Duke threw his cigar to ithe fire and folded his arms. • "Listen, sire," he said, looting the magnificent man. he was, so that in viewing him the King forgot that he, too, was of splendid proportions and presence, and! lacked nothing but experience to be as impressive In other ways also as his cousin! "Listen, sire," said the Duke again. "The Societies a/re itii my clutch. There will be no outbreak to-morrow. The worst of the serpents I strung up by their tails in the Central Prison this afternoon. It would have interested! you to see their wriraKng." " You killed more of them witibout trial?" exclaimed the King, in a low voice. " God's sensel Yes. Does one summon * jury of vipers to try a viper?", The King sighed and fell back upon, the couch. : '' "Go on," he said. "I'm sick of my Ignorance." "Your Majesty will go to church as safely as a weaver's wife to a christening. I'll not say that the undercurrent will be any the> less strong, but 'tis much' to have oil on the waters for an hour or two. Zurali's gmiles and your Majesty's may continue the work started by any oil tanks." As ever of late, when the Duke made -free with Wie Princess Zurali's nam?, the" King winced. "Welir he said. "Be gay, rare, as your majesty knows so iwell how to be when you are; before the clods, you* subjects. The people forget their troubles in reflecting the joy of the countenance of the King. Comfortable kingcraft, is it not?" " Change your tone and come to the point," said! the King, witha sudden change in his own tone. "Sirel" "I fancied my words were plain. The Duke raised lis eyebrows slightly, otherwise his face lost none of its dignified calm. There may have been a little reproach in his gaze; nothing more positive. ' " George 1" exclaimed th© Bang, wearily, "I aim a knot of. moods, and on my life I know not for five minutes together wbdeh of them will hold me.\ I—would be alone. Tell me what there is to tell and 'leave me. That's cousinly candour, is it not?". The Duke bowed, as if he accepted gratefully the proffered confidence. But in his heart he whispered, "The king that apologises is lost indeed!" . " In two words, sire," he said, seriously, "the Societies would kiss your Majesty's hands and sue for gracious mercy. They have had enough of strife. The poor devils fear me more every hour, and—your Majesty's addition to those five score sixfootersto your own bodyguard!has been too much for them. The rumour goes that the warriors have sworn to flay in the street any man, woman or child who omits tomorrow to cry ' God.save the King!'" "George! George!" cried the King, as 'If ho ivf amused. "I jc: not, sire. lam your Majesty's ear and the public's tongue. That is my epitome." "And is it by accident that you have 'ected Regent in. Fariandis so well that the people say, 'What will Skem do?' and not What will Hermon the King, say to ft?"' " Your Majesty is pleased to flatter me." T' By my soul, no. The King of Far-lands is pleased to flatter no man 1, and lew wo- , men. But this I see, Cousin George, 'that Unless you learn a little humility from the Archbishop, and use a little tact from your own store (and you have plenty), one of us, you or I, Cousin George, will in a few months cease to be seen in my capital." The King still smiled. But the Duke of Skem's hand went involuntarily to his sword tilt as, for an instant, the strong tranquility left his eyes. Then he also forced a smile. • "A new mood, sir?" he asked, almost as if it were an appeal. The King's mouth hardened. "Have it .bo," he replied. "And 1 go on with your •tory." "My tale, sire, is soon ended. The Societies cringe to your Majesty. Believing I have their roll complete, they purpose,

I hear, to cut the ground from under my iron feet, and surrender their ramss to your Majesty's gracious self. The casket will bs offered to your Majesty, in King- | dom Square, on the way to the Cathedral. They axe wise enough for that. It seems to them that not even a King of Faxkndis can reject a petition for pardon in the sweet hour of his marriage. And I have cozened them. It remains but for your Majesty to confirm me in this, and' in a month the cemeteries will all require to be enlarged. A little maid in white, a daughter of the Thorns, will offer you their foolish beads with a simper and a prayer and* — the stroke is made." The King leaped from his couch and, ■with his hands bifceed in his sides, stood staring at his cousin as if the Duke were a monster. • " You have entered upon this vile compact in my name," he said, slowly. "Far the- welfare of your Majesty and your Majesty's bride-elect." "Then I was right," said the King -with an air of conviction. "You are a gorgeous coward, my cousin." "Sire!" | " Remove your hand from your sword, j cousik" ' , ■ . "Pardon, sire. I did not think that the one man in .nil the world from whom it 1% my duty an|f love to bear all things. would call me— coward." "What is it but cowardice, my cousin, to gamble with the lives of my helpless people as one plays with counters?" "Your Majesty's helpless people ! The word' ill fits these carrion, crows. And it is because they are your people, and you are the King, that you may dispose of their lives as you will." !.... The King shook his head. i : - " Such logic was good food in fifteen hundred odd ; later, too, if I remember. It would be sorry stuff for the comic papers in these days." "Then your Majesty refuses their submission?" . . "On. such terms, yes, a thousand times. Tsut—whaj> a fiend thou art, cousin lieorge! Let them send in their names, and leave the- rest to me. Come, your news is 1 good, when the worst's thought of it." , "The wors;t, sire!" ' ■ ■ . "I, said the worst. It is your own'lesson, George." There is always an obvious inference and another«.or two "wMch. demand to.be sought after. What they mean by it, I cannot yet see. Perhaps you know:; perhaps you :aro fooled as richly as myself. Well, time will declare. For Zurali's sake, my own, and theirs, I'll pardon them with all my Ijeaxt. Enough!" The King's gesture of dismissal was like a blow to tlie Duke. With boiling wrath in his heart, foe murmured 1 the Fariands formula of the season. . " Christ's blessing on Christ's night be with your Majesty." "Amen," said the King. Then' the Duke strode from the room with set brows and a look before which the guards fti the corridors trembled. And one of the men, when the Duke had 1 passed, asked his comrade, shuddering, " Whose neck, next, /think you? 1 ' . "Would it were, his own. |" was the. aoiswer, to which the other whispered back, "Would it were!" But alone, the King seemed to forget Ms strong cousin,- who had harped 1 such various chords upon him. No sadness was in him now; and no kingly tedium. As if to mark the Duke's jdteparture, the King, drawing from his Breast' a little dagger with a cross handle, kissed; the handle reverently, and, smiling with a certain fierceness, held it towards the portrait of Zurali, whose, sweet eyes looked mildly on him from.thie«wall. "For thy sake, love, my people's and mine. own!", he said, as if it were a prayer. Wrapping himself in his' sables, hejtheil left the chamber by a door in ciie q£ tm panels of the wall The staircase brought ham in a few-steps to a room, the four eides of which were of books and nothing else. Only where the two doors • broke the room's uniformity were there no books. A hale' old man with at white beard stood to receive him. His face had more than a slight likeness to the face of that disciple of His whom Jesus most loved. Yet in truth, he was no churchman, but the Baron Lewen, who for thirty years had' served the late King as Minister at foreign courts, amd isubseqixently as tutor to the Crown Prince. Save only on, the subjects of the Duke of, Skem, there were no secrets oi consequence, between these two. "Master mine," said the King, blithe now as a boy, " come with me to the Princess; I'll do it— this very night." "Do it, Hermon?" said the Baron, looking at the King affectiqnately, like a father. "Ay,\l will. '' Bring that secret rogue to, me- there, and if I know Zurali, she'll not think me mad. Come." The old man. clasped the King's offered hand between his own two hands and stroked it. ■■;'■. "We will go," b* sasid. "But why risk so much.?" "To gain much, dear master, one must risk much — is it not so?" j "And what does the King expect to gain?" ' " Oh, a trifle. The love of my. people, or if I miss that, then esteem and confidence. A trifle, but I want it." The old- man's cheeks reddened with comely pride. | "Spoken like your father's eon, sire," he said. They went out together, and there was :'no awe, only reverence, on the faces of the guards? in the Baron's corridor. They were the Baron's own men' ; this was one of his privileges, accorded by the laite King, and unbroken, in spite of the machdnatioas of the Regent. . The Baron went bareheaded with the King. To him heat or cold seemed indifferent. He crossed the palace yard 1 under the* frosty ptars without even a cloak upon him. The King hummed a tune as they went, aaid the Baron smiled to see hew [successfully he had kept the boy nature in his pupil, while at the same time he had i guided him into the ways of a king. "■: They crossed the palace yard, and thence through, a gateway to a quiet square with gilded railings and many lamps. Beyond, the darkening sky was suffused with flashes of crimson radiance. ".The illuminations have begun, Hermon," said the Baron. "I see it," said the King. "Why will they dim the stars with such rubbish?" The Baron seemed to croon to himself with satisfaction. "I am told," he said, "that the arch of granite blocks by the Cathedral is a stupendous achievement." "The idiots!" exclaimed the King. " Why 40 they cut poor (Nature's throat to I think t$ give pleasure to one of Nature's ' children? The granite were better in the I bill they cut it from. Master, why are men • and women the only creatures who maul their mother so cruelly?" ■" Dear boy," said' the Baron caressingly, "civilisation is vulgar, but we must accept it. The Societies "

"Yes, master, what of them?" "The Societies, Hermon, are not so vulgar as — his grace the Duke of Skem, for example. They struggle for the illusion oi perfect freedom, not knowing what they do. But the Duke— tut, tut, lam indiscreet!" "Speak, master; what of the Duke?" "The Duke of Skem, sire, wears his culture like a bloody pelt torn from his last victim — the red side inwards." " Yet he flourishes !" ■' Yes, he flourishes. . . . How long? How long? ' The King gripped the Baron's arm, but said nothing until they were beyond the royal precincts and, turning to the right, saw before them another palace all white and gold, with lights gemmed all over it and faces crowded at the high railings which kept it severed from the common street. Guards in white silk doublets, thickly padded, for the cold, and in flap caps, also of white silk, stood at the palace steps holding silver-staved halberds. Witfo brisk nods to the cheering crowd at the palisades, the King ran up the marble steps of the palace. He took two steps at a jump twice. Then he vanished through the glass door at the top of the steps, and a psrfume of orange blossom was wafted towards the Baron, who smiled towards the people and by-and-bye exchanged a word with the captain of the guard at the palace portal. "The King is happy, my lord!" said the soldier. " Heaven send him happiness to match !" said the Baron. He followed slowly in the steps of the King and climbed the avenue of white marble statues, each holding a lamp, which ted to the Princess's private apartments. Here he was greeted by the mother of the Princess's Maids. " The King is within, your Excellency !" she whispered. " Every man to his own princess, Lady Grizci !" said the Barcfn. He bent over her hand and kissed it, and then followed her into the Maids' room. But he was soon summoned to the presence of the Princess herself, a lily-white vision, with eyes blue as the summer sky. The King sat by her side, with his head on her shoulder and one arm round her slender waist. The rooms was hung throughout with tapestry of white silk, marvellously embroidered. The; King's own picture was its only ornament. " Tell her, dear master," said the King, "whaiTl would do." The Baron shook his head. " Your Highness will not like it," he said. " Her Highness," said the King laughing, "is as obedient a pupil of mine as I of yours, my master. And, moreover, needs must when the King desires. Send for the fellow and tell her afterwards." "Hermon," whispered the Princess Zurali, when the Baron had left the room, " why do we noi die when we are so happy that we can be no happier, though we live years and years?" "I know not, I care not, light of my life." ■ "The light will fade with the years, Hermon." ,' "So much the worse, my joy, for the years, not the light itself." "I have fears, Hermon." "I'd not have the& without them. They're mine' to banish." "Hermon," whispered the Princess, "while it lies on my mind, let me say it. 'I fear the Duke.'" "Thou, too!" said the King, starting. fi§ if he were astounded. » •.•■..*.. " I fear him so that I cannot tell thee" how much I fear him !'' She laid her soft cheek on his, and the tremor of her body ran on into his body, also.; • „ • ■■.'..'.-.. ■..:.,, ..... . But the King sat erect and drew her sweet head into his arms, and there was 1 a' tiger look in his eyes as he asked : " Why dost thou fear him, thou, of all women- in my realm, Zurali? Baron,'' he exclaimed, for his old tutor had now returned, " this is for your ears as well as mine. She fears my cousin, and on my wedding eve ! Sit down and hear the exposition of such treasonable timidity." ."The Baron will despise me for my weakness," said the Princess. "Not so, dear lady and. my Queen that is to be," was the quick reply. "It is a condition in you whicfi-, God willing, shall make the King strong." "You see," said the King smiling, "1 thrive on your, deficiencies, and you on mine. Speak out, my heart !" She clung to the hand he gave her. "Last night," she said, with pained eyes and a faint blush that glorified her, "the Duke came to me when your majesty had gone from me " . "He dared !" cried the King. "It was but for a little time, and he begged so that I could not refuse him. He said few words, but they troubled me strangely. ' Why,' he asked of me, ' did I think of what was to-day, rather than what might be to-morrow?' And he looked at me so that my thoughts seemed to wander and I saw nothing in all life except himself. And when he left me he lifted my hand to his lips and said, ' Remember and consider !' But I know not now what it was he would have me remember. I know only that I sobbed on my pillow and was ashamed. Tell me lam foolish to fear him, Hermon, and I will vex myself no more. But keep him from me, oh, keep him from me!" The King's countenance was black as his own pine forests. He spoke fondly to the Princess, nevertheless. "A ' freak of folly on the Duke's part, sweetheart! (Nothing more." "Your majesty," said the Lady Grizel, from the door, *' the man waits your majesty's commands." Then the King kissed the Princess, who ■was loth to let him go. * To-morrow," lie said, smoothing tiie hair from her brow, "we are each other's for life. Speed the hours. To-night, as ever, I am my country's."