The lad saw a little quiver in our Lady's face, half grief, half laughter; then like a dumb animal which dare not even speak, he kissed her hand again.
That night, far away from the illuminations, the clash of music, and the roaring crowds, long silent streets towards Windsor awoke from their sleep with thunder of hoofs, the clank of steel, the music of armour. Queen Margaret was out for a scamper with her Guard.
IV
THE CORONATION
What was that old London like, the London of 1980, of twenty years ago, before ever the shadow of the storm darkened her suburbs? The town which awakened on the day of our Lady's Coronation was certainly a magnificent capital. Although not nearly so big as New York, its population numbered ten millions, its streets and gardens covering the valley of the Thames from Windsor to Gravesend. Railway travel had so increased in speed and comfort, that men living fifty miles from the city could reach their offices in half an hour. Aerial pleasure-ships enabled even the poorest to get out of town for fresh air; and there were now fields within easy reach for the games and exercises which our people have always loved. Very old folk could remember the curse of the coal smoke, but in 1980 the air of London was as clear as that of the country. The dirt from horse traffic had ceased to mar the streets, and the terrible, monotonous slums of the nineteenth century were replaced by districts of tenement buildings surrounded with public gardens. London had become what Paris used to be, the capital of civilization, the centre of science, art and letters, the metropolis of pleasure. Many millionaires from America and the Dominions had built their palaces in the West End, which had become a region of especial wealth and splendour, having its nucleus in the Imperial Court.
The day of the Coronation was heralded by pageants and festivals, the reception of Princes, the gathering of countless visitors. Troops were assembled from every part of the Empire, the Fleet was mobilized and soared like a glittering cloud above the Thames, the streets were being decorated, and buildings torn down to make room for spectators. All these things kept the public amused, and still no cloud had arisen.
On the 2nd of June the last edition of one evening paper announced that Mr. Brand had been waylaid by supposed tramps, robbed, and seriously injured. The morning papers of June the 3rd confirmed this news, stating that Mr. Brand had been robbed and nearly murdered in the night of the 30th of May, and the facts withheld until now. Chicago reported immense purchases of wheat, buyers not identified. Odessa and Melbourne both sent advice of a sudden and sharp rise in bread-stuffs, and meat, caused by unknown buyers. There was a sudden chartering of deep sea cargo ships by hundreds at home and abroad. Feverish activity was reported from the Chancellor's office, and Ulster had scarcely left his desk for the last thirty hours. An attaché at the Russian Embassy being interviewed, said everything was all right. These were the first faint zephyrs and little wandering breaths that ruffled the stillness of a world-wide calm.
The morning of the Coronation was sultry, and even before the fiery heat of the day there was no little suffering among the crowds gathered to witness the procession.
At sunrise the corps of gentlemen-at-arms, the Queen's Blackguards, were drawn up in front of the palace. Regiment after regiment of Imperial troops were passing into the Mall to take up their positions, the air was full of music from their bands, as far as the eye could see the parks and avenues were full of marching troops, the glow of scarlet, the fluttering of colours. Absorbed in the spectacle, Lord Sydney lounged at ease upon his charger, when a voice addressed him by name, and a letter was thrust into his hand. He thanked the bearer, then opened the note which had come from Lyonesse.
"Read and destroy. I have been waylaid, and pretty nearly killed, but hope to be out of bed to-morrow. The enemy has the papers. At all hazards get them back. If you fail I must strike." This in Brand's writing.