“Isn’t this the moment for you to appear, Sire?” We had to shout.
“No.”
“Let me go up.”
“No.” He was firm as well as calm. “Wait. The soldiers are unwittingly preparing my moment. I have partisans as well as enemies there. If I showed myself now, it would increase the frenzy. My friends and enemies would at once begin a fight of factions. They could not, would not, hear my voice. I will let the soldiers clear the way.”
We waited.
“Why don’t they scale the wall, Sire?”
“That will come later,—by the soldiers.”
He stood listening. That was trying to my mercurial nature, and almost a mad desire to be over the wall in the thick of the mêlée was straining within me.
The king produced a key, handed it to me, and composedly said:
“That opens the vault containing the cargo from the white people’s vessel, including the arms. If I fall, you and your brother will know what to do in defending the palace. But don’t be hasty. Be merciful if you can. This outbreak will not last long. Violent earthquakes are likely to come again at any moment, and the red fire and purple flame on the summit make me think that there may be a volcanic eruption.”