And here we get yet another instance of the drawbacks and dangers which attend upon royalty. Had Charlotte belonged to any ordinary rank of life, it could have been announced that she was missing; her description could have been issued to the press, and search for her made reasonably effective. But, as things were, this could not be done, Charlotte was impulsive and did indiscreet things; and until one knew exactly what it portended, to publish her disappearance to all the world would have been too rash and sudden a proceeding. Once that was done there could be no hushing up of the matter; all Jingalo, nay, all Europe, would have to hear of it, including, of course, the Prince of Schnapps-Wasser; and so, at all costs of private strain and anxiety, it was necessary to conceal as long as possible that the Princess was not where she ought to be, and was perhaps where she ought not to be.
Now please, do not let my readers at this point think that it was Charlotte who had thrown the bomb. Even for the sake of literary effect, I would not for one moment deceive them. It was not Charlotte; Charlotte had nothing to do with it, and did not even know of it. And yet—I will give them for a while this small problem to grapple with—Charlotte was quite well, was in possession of all her senses, was thoroughly enjoying herself, and was not outside the land of her inheritance. Most emphatically she had not run away.
And there for the moment we will leave the matter, and attend to things more important.
II
The King had caught sight in the newspaper of something which annoyed him very much; annoyed him all the more because it seemed to betoken that the moment his abdication was withdrawn the old ministerial encroachments on the royal prerogative had begun again.
"We are officially informed," so ran the paragraph, "that the Minister of the Interior has advised his Majesty to grant a reprieve to the three strike leaders now lying under sentence of death for their part in the recent riots and police murders. It is understood that the sentences will be commuted to penal servitude for life."
And this was the first the King had heard of it!
He sent at once for the Home Minister; and within an hour that great official stood before him.
"Mr. Secretary," said the King sharply, as he laid the offending paragraph before him, "since when, may I ask, has the Crown's prerogative of mercy become the perquisite of the Home Office?"
"I do not think, sir," submitted the Secretary with all outward humility, "that any such change has come about. In this case the circumstances were special and very urgent."