“There, there, Wellington,” whispered Napoleon; “let ’em rest on that a while. They have all been gradually moving this way. They can’t hold out much longer.”
“Let me throw one more shell into their camp,” whispered Wellington.
“All right; go ahead.”
“There is a skillful pickpocket aboard of this boat, and those who have money had better be on their guard. One passenger has been relieved of a purse containing five hundred dollars. The pocket was cut clean off, and so skillfully done that the owner knew nothing about it until his attention was called to it by a friend. I fear that our amusements will all be interfered with, and that we shall be compelled to lay aside our disguises, because, whoever he is, you may be assured he is in mask.”
“Good, good, Wellington!” said George III., in a whisper; “stop; you have got them completely demoralized, and we may safely wait for the result.”
“Oh, mercy on us!” exclaimed one of Queen Mary’s maids of honor, “we are in the midst of thieves and murderers! Didn’t you hear that gentleman say that a bloody murder had been committed, and that a gentleman had been robbed, and that both criminals were aboard of this boat? Who knows but what we shall all be murdered and robbed!”
“Don’t look toward them,” said Wellington; “the last shot has mortally wounded the last one of the party.” This sentence was whispered, so as not to be heard by the opposition.
Ivanhoe drew near Wellington and said: “Pardon me, sir, but I beg to inquire about this dreadful murder of which I heard you speak just now.”
Wellington shrugged his shoulders, and gave a deep sigh. “Horrible! horrible; must cruel! unprecedented! but that’s all I know about it.” And with a knowing wink at George III., Wellington observed: “Look at that beautiful little island there. See what delightful foliage. How splendid it would be to have a picnic on that nice green turf under such a cool-looking shade!”
“Oh, wouldn’t that be delightful!” said the queen of Sheba.