“We were obliged to deprive the guard as far as possible of its power of mischief, milord. In its former state it was a standing menace, but under its present officers it is excellently affected to the Government.”
At the gate of the city the Sacred Band handed over its escort duties to the guard, which was paraded for the King’s inspection, after which all the troops fell in for the march through the streets. The houses were gaily decorated, and the windows and roofs crowded with people, who welcomed Caerleon with shouts of joy. It was still early in the day, and M. Drakovics had arranged a programme of events. Orders had been sent forward to prepare for the coronation; but it was found impossible to complete the arrangements before the morrow, and all that could be done on this occasion was to visit the hall of the Assembly, in order to receive the loyal addresses of the Legislative body, and their oath of allegiance. Then followed the reception of addresses from the municipality of Bellaviste, and as many other local authorities as had been able to get them ready in time; after which came lunch at the Hôtel de Ville, and a state progress through the town. Further receptions followed this, and the events of the day concluded with a parade of the palace guard in the courtyard of the palace. It needed all M. Drakovics’s powers of persuasion to induce his sovereign to conduct a third inspection after his round of duties; but he represented so forcibly the disappointment which would be felt in the city if any slight were offered to the guard, that Caerleon yielded. They were a fine body of men, wearing a very handsome, if somewhat foppish, uniform, and their officers were seasoned old soldiers, whose aspect presented a curious contrast to that of the rank and file. One more speech, translated by M. Drakovics, was necessary here, and this duty performed, Caerleon entered his palace with a sigh of relief. Owing to the delay in the coronation arrangements, which included a state banquet, no special function had been fixed for that evening, except that the town was to be illuminated later on; and although M. Drakovics would have liked to linger at the palace and talk international politics, Caerleon’s disinclination for further conversation on the subject was so extremely pronounced that he found it impossible to remain, and the brothers were left alone together.
“Call this being king?” said Caerleon, when he and Cyril met at dinner in the comparatively small room which they had chosen out of the wilderness of state apartments as their dining-room when by themselves, for there were few regular court officials at present. The chief functionaries had all gone into exile with the late king, and it had not been possible to appoint their successors as yet, so that matters were in the hands of such of the less important officials as had adopted the cause of the revolution. These had not yet acquired the reverential obtuseness which would have enabled those whose places they had taken to maintain their position about the king as long as etiquette required, in spite of his disinclination for their society. Accordingly they effaced themselves obediently when their sovereign intimated that their attendance was not further desired that night, and it did not strike Caerleon that even the freedom he now enjoyed would have been impossible in a properly constituted court. “I call it being a slave, no less,” he went on. “What a luxurious beast old Franza must have been! I never saw anything like the rooms up-stairs. Well, if luxury could compensate him for all the bother and fuss, he deserved it.”
“‘Uneasy lies the head——’” began Cyril.
“Oh, shut up, and don’t quote moral platitudes,” said Caerleon, wearily. “I tell you what, Cyril, there are two things we’ll do. We’ll look out some attic place where we can smoke in peace, with two chairs in it and a rug on the floor, and we will break through that absurd rule of never going out without an escort. I mean to do the Haroun-al-Raschid business, and poke about a little incog.”
“All right,” said Cyril; “I’ll be Grand Vizier. We will get hold of a couple of fur caps and these Thracian cloaks with high fur collars, and have some fun. Shall we begin to-night with the illuminations, or are you fagged out?”
“I don’t see why we shouldn’t,” said Caerleon. “Root out some cloaks, will you? There are servants enough, and it’s a charity to give them something to do. It’ll be all right if we are in by eleven o’clock, when some of those chaps from the town are coming to serenade us.”
Through the medium of Wright, who was preparing very reluctantly to resign the care of his master’s personal belongings into the hands of the new servants and return to his natural sphere, the charge of the stables, Cyril procured the required disguises, and he and his brother wrapped themselves up and slipped out. The palace was built round a square courtyard, in the midst of which stood the rude little chapel of St Peter, where the workmen had been busied all day in making preparations for the coronation. As the servants were all at supper, and the guards in their own hall, only the sentries were to be seen, and Caerleon and Cyril stole along in the shadow, giving the password when it was demanded, and reaching the gardens in safety. A private gate, to which they alone possessed a key, supplied them with the means of exit, and they descended the steep street and mingled with the crowd which was admiring the illuminations. These were more ambitious than successful, and although the Thracians were full of delight, Cyril turned up his nose at the display, and commented on it in disparaging whispers.
“It is rather slow here,” said Caerleon, stopping short suddenly. “Let us go and look up the O’Malachys.”
It was in Cyril’s mind to say, “I wondered how soon you would get to that,” but he held his tongue, and followed Caerleon to the Hôtel Occidental, the whereabouts of which the King had discovered in the course of his progress through the town. Keeping their cloaks well up to their faces, they passed through the hall without being recognised, and were conducted up-stairs to the O’Malachys’ sitting-room, where they found the Herr Oberst himself, Louis, and Nadia. Madame O’Malachy was suffering from a bad headache, and had gone early to her room.