“This is the end of everything. I wish I had never lived to see the day!” The old sailor sat like a man who had seen a vision so appalling that it robbed him of his reason.
CHAPTER XIII. — “THE KING IS DEAD; LONG LIVE THE KING!”
The King, of all the company, seemed to be the only one who had remained perfectly cool. He was like a man who realizing the gravity of the situation yet had nerved himself to meet it.
“Mr. Edestone,” he said, as if speaking to one of his own naval officers, “you will please show the last two pictures again, and for the benefit of Admiral Brown you might give us some further details in regard to the ship’s equipment and armament. May I also ask you where these pictures were taken?”
“On the flat plains in the centre of the island of Newfoundland,” Edestone informed him, “between the White Bear River and the east branch of the Salmon, and from fifty to seventy-five miles from the seacoast on the south. If Your Majesty will look into the middle distance when the second picture is again thrown on the screen you will see some small, dark objects; these are one of those immense herds of caribou, which happen to be moving south over this vast barren at the time of year that these pictures were taken—that is, in October.”
He observed that the face of the King took on an expression blended partly of astonishment and partly of resentment when he mentioned the name of one of the Colonial possessions of the Empire, and hastened to add:
“You will find, Sire, if you inquire of the Governor of that Province that I was there with the full knowledge and consent of Your Majesty’s Government to carry on certain scientific experiments. I selected this deserted spot, so far removed from all human habitation, because there I should not be disturbed. Until I showed these pictures here today no one outside of my own men knew the nature of these experiments. The guns were loaded with nothing more harmful than several hundred pounds of black powder to produce the display of force which you have just seen. I will admit,” he granted with a smile, “that if the newspapers had got word of what was going on there they might have made some excitement; I can assure you, however, that no act of mine could be construed even by our most susceptible and timid State Department as a violation of neutrality.”
“But where is your ship now?” asked the King, while the rest of the company held their breath, awaiting the answer.