"Look at him! Look at him! Just look at him! When did Thuno Flâtum ever wear soiled saffron?" yelled the mob, roaring with me in amusement more genuine than my own.
At the same time, the heavy arms of a guard closed about the feeble, resisting figure.
"But I am, I am Thuno Flâtum!" he wailed for the last time. "It is you, you who are the impostor! Only listen, only listen—"
At this, he was greeted with louder laughter than ever, and the thunders of public merriment drowned out his words. Luckily for me, he was hidden from the sight of the majority; while those close at hand could not see him clearly enough for recognition.
"Guards, place him in a cell!" I shouted, when the peals of mirth had begun to subside. "He is a dangerous madman! We will keep him locked up until—until Thuno Flâtum returns!"
As a corps of guards disappeared down a side-passage with the manacled Dictator and his attendants, the crowd burst once more into cheers, "Long live Luma! Long live Luma! Long live Luma the Illustrious!"
CHAPTER XXIX
New Storm-Clouds
In order to press on to more crucial events, I shall not linger over my first few months as Dictator. Clad in the magnificence of my new office, I dwelt in a spacious suite of rooms with palatial adornments and scores of attendants; I enjoyed the applause and veneration of millions who bowed before me as before a god; my comings and goings were heralded with blasts of trumpets and the rattle of military trappings; I held court daily on the throne of Thuno Flâtum, decided matters of public policy and law and issued orders which, theoretically, could be disobeyed only under pain of death.