The King's Men Part 20

"What do you want, then?" asked the old man.

"I want the money now, and I want just double the sum you have named."

"You cannot have--"

"Then I shall go home;" and Mrs. Carey rose and began to arrange her cloak, but keeping her eyes on old Bugbee's face. Both were playing for the same stake, though only one knew it. Mrs. Carey read the old banker's purpose, but Bugbee had no idea that she had any outlook beyond the purchase money--twenty instead of ten thousand pounds. He was secretly not displeased at the demand, which seemed an indication of her sincerity.

"You shall have the money," he said, having pretended to consider. "I shall write a check now."

"I want the money; I do not want a check." And she remained standing.

Old Bugbee smiled as he went out. In a few minutes he returned, and finding her still prepared to go, took the cloak from her, and placed in her hand twenty crisp Bank of England notes.

The entrance of the tall flunkey prevented Mrs. Carey from speaking her pleasure, but she looked it at the banker.

"You are wanted, sir," said the erect flunkey.

Old Bugbee hurriedly left the room, and as soon as the door had closed, Mrs. Oswald Carey ran to a large mirror, where she smiled at herself, and concealed her treasure in her dress.

Then she went into the rooms which the old banker had said were hers; and some minutes later, when the banker returned and she came toward him, he smiled approval at the few supreme touches that had made her beauty positively radiant. Her dress was cut low and square, and a soft gauze of exquisite texture covered her bosom. This had been concealed throughout the evening by a skilful arrangement of rich lace. There was a single red rose in her hair.

"You are to present a pet.i.tion," old Bugbee said, as if giving instructions. "Have you thought of it?"

"Trust me," she said, smilingly. "I am ready."

Leaning on the arm of the King's banker, Mrs. Carey ascended the wide stairs and on the first floor entered a small parlor. Through an open door she saw, in a great room beyond, three men, two of whom were bowing obsequiously, as if taking their leave.

The third person was the King.

Mrs. Oswald Carey smiled inwardly as she took in the points of this extraordinary figure, which was so like, yet so absurdly unlike, the prints with which all the world was familiar.

King George the Fifth was dressed in a splendid court suit, his breast blazing with orders, and his coat and waistcoat literally covered with gold embroidery. He was a short, heavy man, about fifty years of age, with a large, oval head, made still more large and oval by a great double chin, and by the soft fatness of his cheeks. His hair had been red, but was almost gray, and he was bald on top. He was closely shaven, showing a heavy, sensual mouth, out of all proportion to a small and rather fine nose. But his eyes gave the expression, or want of expression, to his face; they were set very far apart, and they were small, round and prominent, with white eyelashes.

Had his legs been proportionate to his body he would have been a large man; but they were very short. As he stood, in laced coat, breeches and buckled shoes, he was laughably like a figure on a playing-card--the figure in profile.

When the two men had backed out, the banker led Mrs. Carey into the presence. Then both intruders bowed reverentially. The King had sat down and he remained seated, paying not the least heed to the courtesies, but closely regarding the lady, whose extraordinary attractions had struck him at first sight.

Mrs. Carey advanced timidly and sank kneeling at his feet; and still the royal eye graciously scanned the beautiful pet.i.tioner. Once she raised her face to speak, but meeting the gaze of the King her suffused eyes sank again.

"She is quite overcome, Bugbee," said the King in a husky voice, as odd as his appearance.

"The sight of her King has overpowered her, your Majesty," answered old Bugbee, in a low tone of solemn awe.

"Come now," said George, encouragingly, and he touched the soft chin in raising her face: "Speak! What may we do for so fair a subject?"

"Oh, my King!" exclaimed the Beauty, clasping her hands, "I come with words only for your own ear."

An unquestionable frown shadowed Bugbee's face at the audacity of the woman. George's little eyes rested on the face of the speaker, as if he had not comprehended. The old banker remained standing in his place.

"I am bound, your Majesty, only to speak my message to you alone." She was so evidently excited and her pleading was so eloquent that the King was at once deeply interested.

George had raised her by taking her hand, and now he looked vaguely from her to old Bugbee.

"It is a message. You said a pet.i.tion," said the King, dubiously, to his banker.

"Your Majesty, I thought--"

"Leave us, Bugbee," interrupted George, with a wave of his hand, not looking at the banker. "Let us hear this fair messenger."

Old Bugbee bowed and backed till he reached the door, hardly knowing whether to be pleased or indignant. He ought to have made the woman explain her plan to him before she entered the King's presence. Now he must wait, while she was free to act as she chose.

When the door closed on the banker Mrs. Carey's whole manner changed.

She drew near the King and excitedly laid her hand on his arm.

"Oh, your Majesty! I have come to save you! You are betrayed!"

"Betrayed!" repeated George, trying to grasp the idea, while his little eyes were quite expressionless.

"Betrayed!" sobbed Mrs. Carey, "and all is lost except your Majesty's life and liberty."

"How do you know this? Why does not he know?" and the alarmed George nodded at the door.

"I do not know, your Majesty. I only know that I know it, and that I have come here to save you at the risk of my life; but what is my life to the precious life of my King?"

"Betrayed!" repeated George, as if the meaning of the word were slowly coming to him out of a fog. "But to-morrow--to-day--my men will proclaim the restoration."

"Oh, my King! to-morrow--"

"To-morrow I shall be King!" re-echoed George, while his glance wandered round the room, as if seeking to escape from the bore of excitement.

"Betrayed! No, no; my men--"

"Your men, Sire, to-night will be dead or in prison," said Mrs. Carey, with increased firmness, reading the puerile nature and seeing the value of emphasis.

"I am to join my gentlemen at Aldershot at noon," muttered the King.

"No, no!" cried Mrs. Carey, and her beautiful hands clasped his arm beseechingly. "Your Majesty will be lost if you attempt to go--all who go there will be lost."

There was a depth in her voice at these words that carried conviction.

"Your Majesty must escape from England to-night!"

"Impossible!" cried George, with some dignity, but more irritation.

"Oh, listen to me, Sire!" she sobbed, "and do not despise my words because I am only a weak woman."

Here the small eyes of the King rested on her again, and the royal hand soothed her back to calmness by stroking her beautiful hair.

"Everything is known," she continued, "except that your Majesty has landed. If that were known all were lost. President Bagshaw has surrounded Aldershot with soldiers. There are twenty to one against the Royalists."