The fact was that Munza, tired of having "posed" for the gallery, and of affecting an indifference which he was far from feeling, had for a moment past been looking sidelong at us. Only, Miss Poles was not the one who had attracted his attention. In spite of his savage nature, he was undoubtedly struck with the beauty of Madame de Guéran, and it was on her that his stealthy looks were cast from time to time, between the whiffs of his pipe.
"Suppose I approach him and speak to him," said Miss Poles, suddenly. "I have evidently succeeded in attracting his attention, and, very possibly, in pleasing him, too."
"Do not do anything of the sort," exclaimed Nassar, who, as our interpreter, was seated close to us. "Nobody has a right to approach the throne, unless invited to do so. It is a crime which Munza invariably punishes by death."
"And do not forget," continued de Morin, surrounding himself with a cloud of smoke, "that this man, as you call him, has only to lift up his finger to put all of us on the spit. Look at our Nubians; they are so sensible of the danger that, quite contrary to their habits, they remain silent and motionless. As for Joseph, he is perfectly paralyzed by fear; if his neighbours do but open their mouths he trembles in every limb, and if the king should happen to say 'Brr' again I believe my unfortunate valet will collapse altogether."
This further remonstrance did not convince Miss Poles, but she kept quiet, for the King at last gave some signs of life.
CHAPTER XXX.
He rose, and received from the hands of one of his wives an article something like those well-known playthings for babies, usually called rattles. It was made of a wicker stick, with a little basket at the end filled with pebbles. It was the monarch's bâton, and he wielded it pompously, like a regular leader of the orchestra. At once the trumpets, ivory horns, kettle drums, bells large and small, and all kinds of music, both iron and copper, including all the kitchen utensils of the Monbuttoos, honoured us with a hubbub even more discordant than the former one.
Occasionally the orchestra ceased, to allow of a solo being performed. A musician stepped to the front, and produced from a huge trumpet sounds intended to represent the sough of the wind, the songs of birds, the rumbling of a storm, or the roaring of lions. Amongst this primitive race, what is called imitative music is always highly esteemed.
The concert was brought to a close by renewed shouts of "Ee, Ee, tchupy, tchupy, Ee, Munza, Ee."
The monarch took his seat once more on the throne, and it dawned upon us that, after having allowed us to admire him from a plastic point of view, and as a chef d'orchestre, he was at length disposed to enter into conversation.