PORTRIGA, Sunday night.
Today has been the most dramatic day in the whole history of Livadia. Within an hour of my sending off my last message (since when I have been unable to communicate) a number of posters and bills began to make their appearance all over the town, announcing that on Sunday morning King Pedro would be married to the Princess Isabella, the beautiful and rather mysterious daughter of the late Pretender, of whose whereabouts very few even of her own supporters seemed to have any definite knowledge.
With great difficulty, and only through the kind assistance of Mr. Watson the British Consul, I managed to obtain an interview with General Almaida. The latter, who appeared to be in a state of considerable agitation, declared the report to be a deliberate canard set about by the King's supporters.
Further inquiries, however, led me to the conclusion that the Princess was actually in the hands of the Royalists, and that having been won over by the King's courtesy and charm of manner, she had agreed to the marriage as the natural and happy solution of their rival claims. The truth of this view was soon demonstrated.
At an early hour on Sunday morning, all the foreign correspondents in Portriga received an official invitation to the Cathedral, the approaches to which were held in considerable force by the King's troops. The ceremony, which was originally announced for twelve o'clock, did not take place until nearly one-thirty, owing I believe to a final attempt on the part of General Almaida to break through into the centre of the town. His belated effort was easily frustrated, as a large number of his followers had already laid down their arms, recognizing the hopelessness of their position.
The marriage rites, which were performed by the aged Bishop of Portriga, were carried through with considerable state. Except for a momentary interruption half through the service, the authors of which were promptly arrested and conveyed from the Cathedral, the ceremony proceeded along its course without any untoward incident. On leaving the building the Royal Pair were greeted with the utmost enthusiasm by a large and apparently well contented crowd and drove in state to the ancient palace of St. Peter, where from time immemorial the ruling house of Livadia have been accustomed to reside.
The new Queen of Livadia is a young girl of remarkable beauty—not unlike an Englishwoman in appearance. She has a wealth of that wonderful auburn hair, which is frequently to be met with in the Southern provinces of Livadia, and throughout the ceremony she conducted herself with a grace and dignity that won the admiration of all beholders.
It is not difficult to believe that under its young and happily endowed rulers, who will be guided by that experienced statesman the Marquis da Freitas, the country will soon recover from the troublous times through which it has been recently passing.
Having read so far, Lady Jocelyn laid down the paper, and leaned back against the sofa. For a minute or so she remained there motionless, gazing straight out in front of her with an expression such as few people had ever seen upon her naturally shrewd and cheerful face.
At last, with a faint sigh, she picked up the paper again, and stared once more at the blatant headlines.