The Skipper, now that his worst trouble was removed, began to clamour for even greater comforts.
He looked about him critically, the condescension of his manner contrasting curiously with the scantiness of his apparel.
"If the old beggar has another throne handy," said he, "I'll take it."
These words were repeated to the King at my demand, with much halting and fear of consequences by the interpreter. I have always thought that Christophe had experienced so much of servility, which is the most tiresome thing in the world, from his sycophants, that he was glad to hear some straightforward talk. Possibly he felt that men who spoke so fearlessly and openly were even greater than they had declared themselves to be. Whatever his reasons, he spoke hurriedly to the interpreter, and he in turn to a servant. A chair was brought at once. I kicked the Smith and the Bo's'n out of the way with all the hauteur that I could express in my manner. They bowed low and withdrew with smiling faces, but I noticed a glitter in the eyes of the Bo's'n that was not to be lightly overlooked.
"We have disturbed the gracious King long enough," said I, with my politest bow. "We will not interrupt again." Wondering somewhat that we were not hurried to the citadel, or that our heads did not pay the forfeit at once, I saw the King settle down to the pursuance of his business matters.
The next prisoner was a fine-looking young fellow, tall and straight, of much prouder appearance than any one there.
"Have you finished the crown that I gave you to make?" asked Christophe.
The prisoner, who had fallen upon his face, partly because he was pushed there by the guard, replied:
"I have not, my Lord King. The time given me was too short."
"Away with him to La Ferrière! Bind him upon the parapet until nightfall, and when the sun sets behind the citadel cut the cords and let him fall into the abyss. Thus he will have a day to think over his failure and what success might have done for him. Bring in the next prisoner!"