Truxton King: A Story of Graustark Part 53

"Arise, your Highness," piped Bobby, with a quick glance at Count Halfont. It was a very faint, faraway voice that uttered the gracious command. "Graustark welcomes the Grand Duke Paulus. It is my pleasure to--to--to--" a helpless look came into his eyes. He looked everywhere for support. The Grand Duke saw that he had forgotten the rehea.r.s.ed speech, and smiled benignly as he stepped forward and kissed the hand that had been extended somewhat uncertainly.

"My most respectful homage to your Majesty. The felicitations of my emperor and the warmest protestations of friends.h.i.+p from his people."

With this as a prologue, he engaged himself in the ever-pleasurable task of delivering a long, congratulatory address. If there was one thing above another that the Grand Duke enjoyed, it was the making of a speech. He prided himself on his prowess as an orator and as an after-dinner speaker; but, more than either of these, he gloried in his ability to soar extemporaneously.

For ten minutes he addressed himself to the throne, benignly, comfortably. Then he condescended to devote a share of his precious store to the courtiers behind him. If he caught more than one of them yawning when he turned in their direction, he did not permit it to disturb him in the least. His eyes may have narrowed a bit, but that was all.

After five minutes of high-sounding plat.i.tudes, he again turned to the Prince. It was then that he received his first shock.

Prince Robin was sound asleep. His head was slipping side-wise along the satiny back of the big chair, and his chin was very low in the laces at his neck. The Grand Duke coughed emphatically, cleared his throat, and grew very red in the face.

The Court of Graustark was distinctly dismayed. Here was shocking state of affairs. The prince going to sleep while a grand duke talked!

"His Majesty appears to have--ahem--gone to sleep," remarked the Grand Duke tartly, interrupting himself to address the Prime Minister.

"He is very tired, your Excellency," said Count Halfont, very much distressed. "Pray consider what he has been through during the--"

"Ah, my dear Count, do not apologise for him. I quite understand. Ahem!

Ahem!" Still he was very red in the face. Some one had laughed softly behind his back.

"I will awaken him, your Excellency," said the Prime Minister, edging toward the throne.

"Not at all, sir!" protested the visitor. "Permit him to have his sleep out, sir. I will not have him disturbed. Who am I that I should defeat the claims of nature? It is my pleasure to wait until his Majesty's nap is over. Then he may dismiss us, but not until we have cried: 'Long live the Prince!'"

For awhile they stood in awkward silence, this notable gathering of men and women. Then the Prime Minister, in hushed tones, suggested that it would be eminently proper, under the circ.u.mstances, for all present to be seated. He was under the impression that His Serene Highness would sleep long and soundly.

Stiff-backed and uncomfortable, the Court sat and waited. No one pretended to conceal the blissful yawns that would not be denied. A drowsy, ineffably languid feeling took possession of the entire a.s.semblage. Here and there a n.o.ble head nodded slightly; eyelids fell in the silent war against the G.o.d of slumber, only to revive again with painful energy and ever-weakening courage.

The Prime Minister sat at the foot of the throne and nodded in spite of himself. The Minister of the Treasury was breathing so heavily that his neighbor nudged him just in time to prevent something even more humiliating. John Tullis, far back near the wall, had his head on his hand, bravely fighting off the persistent demon. Prince Dantan of Dawsbergen was sound asleep.

The Grand Duke was wide awake. He saw it all and was equal to the occasion. After all, he was a kindly old gentleman, and, once his moment of mortification was over, he was not above charity.

Bobby's poor little head had slipped over to a most uncomfortable position against the arm of the chair. Putting his finger to his lips, the Grand Duke tip-toed carefully up to the throne. With very gentle hands he lifted Bobby's head, and, infinitely tender, stuffed a throne cus.h.i.+on behind the curly head. Still with his finger to his lips, a splendid smile in his eyes, he tip-toed back to his chair.

As he pa.s.sed Count Halfont, who had risen, he whispered:

"Dear little man! I do not forget, my lord, that I was once a boy. G.o.d bless him!"

Then he sat down, conscious of a fine feeling of goodness, folded his arms across his expansive chest, and allowed his beaming eyes to rest upon the sleeping boy far back in the chair of state. Incidentally, he decided to delay a few days before taking up the bond question with the ministry. The Grand Duke was not an ordinary diplomat.

In one of the curtained windows, far removed from the throne, sat Truxton King and Loraine Tullis.

All about them people were watching the delicate little scene, smiling drowsily at the Grand Duke's tender comedy. No one was looking at the two in the curtained recess. Her hand was in his, her head sank slowly toward his inviting shoulder; her heavy lids drooped lower and lower, refusing to obey the slender will that argued against complete surrender. At last her soft, regular breathing told him that she was asleep. Awaiting his opportunity, he tenderly kissed the soft, brown hair, murmured a gentle word of love, and settled his own head against the thick cus.h.i.+ons.

Everywhere they dozed and nodded. The Grand Duke smiled and blinked his little eyes. He was very wide awake.

That is how he happened to see the Prince move restlessly and half open his sleep-bound eyes. The Grand Duke leaned forward with his hand to his ear, and listened. He had seen the boy's lips move. From dreamland came Bobby's belated:

"Good-ni--ight."

THE END