Love Among the Lions Part 4

"Of white mice and canary birds," I said, "but that is not quite the same thing as tigers, and I am perfectly certain that if that tiger is retained, the wedding will not take place."

Her keen grey eyes flashed with comprehension. Ah, the poor little one! in that case it was another thing. She would speak to the "Patron" and to Mons. Onion; the tiger should not be permitted to trouble the fete. I could rely absolutely upon her--he should be accommodated elsewhere.

I went back to Lurana in a somewhat relieved frame of mind, and when she asked me where I had been, I mentioned, perhaps unwisely, that I had dropped in at the Circus and had a little chat with Mlle. Leonie.

I did not say anything about the tiger, because there seemed to be no object in disturbing her, now that the matter was comfortably settled, not to mention that if Lurana had known I had directed the removal of the tiger without consulting her, she was quite self-willed enough to insist on his immediate restoration to the lion-cage.

Most girls would have been impressed by my courage in going near the Circus at all at such a time; not so Lurana, who pretended to believe that Mlle. Leonie was the attraction.

"Oh, I noticed she was making eyes at you from the very beginning,"

she declared; "you had better marry her, and then Mr Niono could marry me. I daresay he would have no objection."

"My darling," I said, gently, "do not let us quarrel the very last evening we may spend together on earth."

"You might take a more cheerful view of it than that, Theodore!" she exclaimed.

"I think you are a little inclined to treat it too lightly," I replied. "I have been studying those lions, Lurana, and it is my deliberate opinion that they are in a condition of suppressed excitement which will break out on the slightest pretext. Unless you can trust yourself to meet their gaze without faltering, without so much as a flicker of the eyelid you will, unless I am greatly mistaken, stand a considerable chance of being torn to pieces."

"Nonsense, Theodore!" she said, "they can't possibly tell whether I am meeting their gaze or not, or even shutting my eyes--for, of course, I shall be wearing a veil."

But _I_ should not--and it really did not seem fair. "I rather thought of putting on a green shade myself," I said. It had only just occurred to me.

"Don't be absurd, Theodore!" she replied. "What _can_ you want with a green shade?"

"My eyes are not strong," I said, "and with those electric lights so close to the cage, I _might_ blink or even close my eyes. A green shade, like your bridal veil, would conceal the act!"

"As if anybody ever _heard_ of a bridegroom with a green shade over his eyes! I certainly will not enter that cage if I am to be made publicly ridiculous!"

"Do I understand," I said, very gravely, "that you _refuse_ to enter the lion-cage?"

"With a man in a green shade? Most certainly I refuse. Not otherwise."

"Then you will sacrifice my life to mere appearances? Ah, Lurana, that is only one more proof that vanity--not love--has led you to this marriage!"

"Why don't you own at once that you'd give anything to get out of it, Theodore?"

"It is you," I retorted, "_you_, Lurana, who are secretly dreading the ordeal, and you are trying to throw the responsibility of giving up the whole thing on me--it's not _fair_, you know!"

"_I_ want to give up the whole thing? Theodore, you _know_ that isn't true!"

"Children, children!" said the Professor, who had been a silent and unnoticed witness of our dispute till then, "What is this talk about giving up the marriage? I implore you to consider the consequences, if the wedding is broken off now by your default. You will be mobbed by a justly indignant crowd, which will probably wreck the hall as a sign of their displeasure. You are just now the two most prominent and popular persons in the United Kingdom--you will become the objects of universal derision. You will ruin that worthy and excellent man, Mr Sawkins, offend Archibald Chuck, and do irretrievable damage to Miss Rakestraw's prospects of success in journalism. Of myself I say nothing, though I may mention that the persons who have paid me fancy prices for the few seats which the management placed at my disposition will infallibly demand rest.i.tution and damages. I might even be forced to recover them from _you_, Theodore. On the other hand, by merely facing a hardly appreciable danger for a very few minutes, you cover yourselves with undying glory, you gain rich and handsome wedding gifts, which I hear the proprietors intend to bestow upon you; you receive an ovation such as is generally reserved for Royal nuptials; and yet you, Theodore, would forfeit all this--for what? For a green shade, which would probably only serve to infuriate the animals?"

This had not struck me before, and I could not help seeing that there was something in it.

"I give up the shade," I said; "but I do think that Lurana is in such a nervous and overstrung condition just now that it is not safe for her to enter the cage without a medical certificate."

Lurana laughed. "What for, Theodore? To satisfy the lions? Don't distress yourself on my account--I am perfectly well. At the appointed time I shall present myself at the--the altar. If you are not there to receive me, to stand by my side in the sight of all, you lose me for ever. A de Castro can never marry a Craven."

She looked so splendid as she said this that I felt there was no peril in the world that I would not face to gain her, that life without her would be unendurable.

Since she was as resolved as ever on this project, I must see it out, that was all, and trust to luck to pull me through. Onion would be there--and he understood lions; and, besides, there was always the bare chance of the ceremony being stopped at the eleventh hour.

I left early, knowing that I should require a good night's rest, and Lurana and I parted, on the understanding that our next meeting would be at the Agricultural Hall on the following afternoon.

Whether it was due to a cup of coffee I had taken at the Professor's, or to some other cause, I do not know, but I had a wretched night, sleeping very literally in fits and starts, and feeling almost thankful when it was time to get up.

A cold bath freshened me up wonderfully, and, as they naturally did not expect me in the City on my wedding-day, I had the whole morning to myself, and decided to get through it by taking a brisk walk.

Before starting, I sent a bag containing my wedding garments to the Agricultural Hall, where a dressing room had been reserved for me, and then I started, via the Seven Sisters Road, for Finsbury Park.

As I pa.s.sed an optician's shop, I happened to see, hanging in the window, several pairs of coloured spectacles, one of which I went in and bought, and walked on with a sense of rea.s.surance. Through the medium of such gla.s.ses a lion would lose much of his terrors, and would, at the same time, be unable to detect any want of firmness in my gaze; indeed, if a wild beast can actually be dominated by a human eye, how much more should he be so when that eye is reinforced by a pair of smoked spectacles!

[Ill.u.s.tration: "A de Castro can never marry a Craven."]

My recollection of the rest of that walk is indistinct. I felt no distress, only a kind of stupor. I tried to fix my thoughts on Lurana, on her strange beauty, and the wondrous fact that in a very few hours the ceremony, which was to unite us, would be, at all events, _commenced_. But at times I had a pathetic sense of the irony which decreed that I, a man of simple tastes and unenterprising disposition, should have fallen hopelessly in love with the only young woman in the United Kingdom capable of insisting on being married in a wild-beast cage.

It seemed hard, and I remember envying quite ordinary persons--butchers, hawkers, errand-boys, crossing-sweepers, and the like, for their good fortune in not being engaged to spend any part of that afternoon in a den of forest-bred African lions.

However, though there was nothing about the intentions of the Home Office in the early editions of the evening papers, the officials _might_ be preparing a dramatic _coup_ for the last moment. I was determined not to count upon it--but the thought of it kept me up until the time when I had to think of returning, for the idea of flight never for an instant presented itself to me. I was on _parole_ as it were, and I preferred death by Lurana's side to dishonour and security without her.

So anxious was I not to be late, and also to discover whether any communication from the Home Secretary had reached the manager, that I almost hurried back to Islington. I was admitted to the Hall by a private entrance, and shown to the kind of unroofed cabin in which I was to change, and which, being under the balcony and at some distance from the gangway between the stables and the ring, was comparatively private and secluded.

Here, after asking an a.s.sistant to let Mr Niono know I had arrived, and would like to see him, I waited. The Circus had begun, as I knew from the facts that the blare of the orchestrions was hushed, and that a bra.s.s band overhead began and left off with the abruptness peculiar to Circus music.

Screens of board and canvas hid the auditorium from view, but I was conscious of a vast mult.i.tude on the other side, vociferous and in the best of humours.

Between the strains of the orchestra and the rattling volleys of applause, I heard the faint stamping and trampling from the stables, and, a sound that struck a chill to my heart--the prolonged roar of exasperation and _ennui_ which could only proceed from a bored lion.

Then there was a rap at the door, which made me start, and Niono burst in.

"So you've found your way here," he said. "Feeling pretty fit? That's the ticket! The bride ain't arrived yet, so you've lots of time."

"You've heard nothing from the Home Office yet, I suppose?" I asked.

"Not a word--and, between you and me, I made sure they meant to crab the show. You've the devil's own luck!"

"I have, indeed," I said, with feeling. "Still, we mustn't be too sure--they may stop us yet!"

"They may try it on--but our men have got their instructions. If they _did_ come now, they wouldn't get near the ring till it was all over, so don't you worry yourself about that."

I said everything seemed to have been admirably arranged. "By the way," I added, "where have you put the tiger?"

"Do you mean old Rajah?" he said; and I replied that I _did_ mean old Rajah.

"Why, _he's_ all right--in the cage along with the others--where did you _suppose_ he'd be--loose?"

"I particularly requested," I explained, "that he might be put somewhere else during the wedding. Mademoiselle promised that it should be seen to."

"It's nothing to do with Ma'amsell," he said, huffily; "_she_ don't give orders here, Ma'amsell don't."

"I mean, she promised to mention the matter to you," I said, more diplomatically.