The King’s serious face lightened with a gleam of laughter.
“Nothing seemed very strange to me, Humphry,” he said, “except the one fact that I found Von Glauben,—whom I supposed to be studying scientific problems,—engaged in studying a woman instead! A very beautiful woman, too, who ought to be something better than a sailor’s wife. And I do not understand, as yet, what he has to do with her, unless—” Here he paused and went on more slowly—“Unless he is, as I suspect, acting for you in some way, and trying to tempt the fair creature with the prospect of a prince’s admiration while the sailor husband is out of the way! Remember, I know nothing—I merely hazard a guess. You are an habitué of The Islands;—though I learned, on enquiry of the interesting old gentleman who was good enough to be my host, Réné Ronsard, that nobody had ever seen you there. They had only seen your yacht constantly cruising about the bay. This struck me as curious, I must confess. Some of your men were well known,—particularly one,—the husband of the pretty girl I saw. Her name, it seems, is Gloria,—and I must admit that it entirely suits her. I can hardly imagine that if you have visited The Islands as often as you seem to have done, you can have escaped seeing her. She is too beautiful to remain unknown to you—particularly if her husband is, as they tell me, in your service. I asked her to give me his name, but she refused it point-blank. I do not wish to accuse you of an amour, which you are perhaps quite innocent of—but certain things taken in their conjunction look suspicious,—and I would remind you that honour in princes,—as in all men,—should come before self-indulgence.”
“I entirely agree with you, Sir!” said the Prince, composedly; “And in the present case honour has been my first thought, as it will be my last. Gloria is my wife!”
“Your wife!” The King rose, his tall figure looking taller, his eyes sparkling with anger from under their deep-set brows. “Your wife! Are you mad, Humphry! You!——the Heir-Apparent to the Throne! You have married her!”
“I have!” replied the Prince, and the words now came coursing rapidly from his lips in his excitement—“I love her! I love her with all my heart and soul!—and I have given her the only shield and safeguard love in this world can give! I have married her in my own name—the name of our family,—which neither she nor any of the humble folk out yonder have ever heard—but she is wedded to me as fast as Church and Law can make it,—and there is only one wrong connected with my vows to her—she does not know who I am. I have deceived her there,—but in nothing else. Had I told her of my rank, she would never have married me. But now she is mine,—and for her sake I am willing to resign all pretension to the Throne in favour of my brother Rupert. Let it be so, I implore you! Let me live my own life of love and liberty in my own way!”
Rigid as a statue the King stood,—his lips were set hard and his eyes lowered. Long buried thoughts rose up from the innermost recesses of his being, and rushed upon his brain in a deluge of remembrance and regret. What!—after all these years, had the ghost of his first love, the little self-slain maiden of his boyhood’s dream, risen to avenge herself in the life of his son? The strangeness of the comparison between himself as he was now, and the eager passionate youth he was then, smote him with a sense of sharp pain. Away in those far-off days he had believed in love as the chief glory of existence; he had considered it as the poets would have us consider it,—a saving, binding, holding and immortal influence, which leads to all pure and holy things, even unto God Himself, the Highest and Holiest of all. When he lost that belief, how great was his loss!—when he ceased to experience that pure idealistic emotion, how bitter became the monotony of living! Rapidly the stream of memory swept over his innermost soul and shook his nerves, and it was only through a strong effort of self-repression that at last, lifting up his eyes he fixed them on the flushed face of his son, and said in measured tones.
“This is a very unexpected and very unhappy confession of yours, Humphry! You have acted most unwisely!—you have been disloyal to me, who am not only your father, but your King! You have proved yourself unworthy of the nation’s trust,—and you have deceived, more cruelly than you think, an innocent and too-confiding girl. I shall not dispute the legality of your marriage;—that would not be worth my while. You have no doubt taken every step to make it as binding as possible;—however, that is but a trifling matter in your case. You know that such a marriage is, and can only be morganatic;—and as the immediate consequence of your amazing folly, a suitable Royal alliance must be arranged for you at once. The nuptials can be celebrated with the attainment of your majority next year.”
He spoke coldly and calmly, but his heart was beating with mingled wrath and pain, and even while he thus pronounced her doom, the exquisite face of Gloria floated before him like the vision of a perfect innocence ruined and betrayed. He realised that he possibly had an unusual character to reckon with in her,—and he had lately become fully aware that there was as much determination and latent force in the disposition of his son, as in the mother who had given him birth. Pale and composed, the young Prince heard him in absolute silence, and when he had finished, still waited a moment, lest any further word should fall from the lips of his parent and Sovereign. Then he spoke in quite as measured, cold and tranquil a manner as the King had done.
“I need not remind you, Sir, that the days of tyranny are over. You cannot force me into bigamy against my will!”
His father uttered a quick oath.