'Throw open the doors, friend Medro. It is the Chief.'
'The Chief! And who besides, good Lymento?' asked the officer cautiously.
'One for whom I will be answerable,' answered Fumenta brusquely. 'Waste not time in idle talk. This will be a critical night for us; and we have no time to lose.'
Without other reply than a salute, the officer turned on his heel and ordered his men to throw open the doors. And as they fell back he advanced and cried in sonorous tones, 'Friends all, the Chief!'
Fumenta stepped past him, conducting Ivanta, and called out in ringing accents, 'And with him the King! Friends, I bring into your midst King Ivanta. He has been deserted by those he trusted. He is, indeed, actually now being hunted by those upon whom he has conferred benefits, and stands at the present moment in sore need of trustworthy friends. I assured him he would find them here. Tell me, have I promised aright?'
Before them was a great hall filled with people in varied dresses, as though they had been brought together from many different parts. There were ragged, rough, but stalwart men, very much of the style of Fumenta's followers; and there were others, both soldiers and civilians, of different grades, some plainly, some richly dressed.
It was, in fact, a meeting gathered from far and near of those of the inhabitants of Iraynia who had secretly sympathised with Fumenta and his outlaws, and who had been hoping for, almost expecting, some such 'burst up' as had now taken place between Agrando and Ivanta. And they had been secretly planning to rise, when that time arrived, against Agrando themselves, and endeavour to throw off his yoke once and for all.
But they had not exactly expected what had actually happened. King Ivanta had always wielded such power, and had shown himself so strong, that the possibility of his ever being in his present position had never entered into their calculations. Consequently, Fumenta's words fell upon the assembly almost as a bombshell might have done—that is to say, with a temporarily stunning effect.
For a space there was silence—a dead silence, which seemed at first to be chilling, irresponsive. Then suddenly some one in the body of the hall jumped up and shouted, 'We have no quarrel with King Ivanta. We are ready to help him against Agrando! Fumenta, you have done well to tell the king that in his present difficulty he will find friends here.'
At once others seized the cue, and hastened to declare their approval of the words spoken. A few moments more, and the scene at Fumenta's stronghold was being repeated here.