Nan Sherwood's Summer Holidays Part 29

The last thing that she heard was the refrain of "The Bonnie, Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond."

"Oh, I remember now," Nan exclaimed, when the last cottage in the village had disappeared from view, "I remember what it was that poor old Robert Blake was playing on his bagpipe! It was that song they were just singing back there. And that was the song that I heard last night when I dropped off to sleep.

"Why, that must be the lake he was telling me about this morning in the gatehouse when he told me something of his boyhood. He said he couldn't remember the name of the place where he used to go so many times alone when he was a lad, to read and write and dream, but that he was sure that it was beautiful.

"He said that there was a mountain by a lake that had clear green water in it. He said that once when he was there, he came upon a camp of gypsies and that the old queen told his fortune."

"What did she say?" Bess asked when it seemed that Nan wasn't going to go on.

"She told him all about his youth," Nan continued rather sadly, "and then about the war. After that she stopped. She said that she couldn't be sure whether he was going to live through it or not."

"Oh, dear," Nan looked away from the girls and out the windows at the landscape skimming by, as she finished, "I feel so sorry for him!"

"So do I," Grace agreed. "But, tell us, Nan, why was it he insisted on searching through your baggage the way he did?"

"Oh, Grace, he wanted to get that letter I told Mr. Blake about," Bess answered the question. "What I want to know is, what became of it?"

"Yes, and what in the world was in it?" Laura contributed.

"I had it with me when you were hunting for it," Nan explained, "and as for what was in it--it was a warning that if I came to Scotland and to Emberon that I'd never live to see the coronation!"

"Nan! And you didn't say a word to anyone about it!" Bess felt like scolding her friend. "You might have been killed!"

"I know I was foolish," Nan admitted. "And I hereby promise never to do anything like that again," she ended solemnly.

So, all the way to London, the girls talked of things that had happened and things that were going to happen. Their one big regret was the fact that they weren't going to see Edinburgh on this trip. Messrs. Kellam and Blake, attorneys for the Emberon estate, had insisted that Nan go directly to London to present her claims to a.s.sist at the coronation.

The next morning found them rolling into Euston Station where Walter, Mr. and Mrs. Mason, and Professor Krenner were all waiting for them. How good it seemed to see familiar faces!

"My, this is the very nicest part of the trip!" Nan exclaimed and then blushed when she saw that Walter's eyes were upon her.

The others were bundled into a taxi, but Walter insisted that Nan go in his car to her hotel. So her first sight of London and the River Thames was with Walter, a fact that she was never to forget in her whole long happy life.

In the days that followed, Nan Sherwood and her friends were in a constant whirl. There were a million things to be done and a million places to go, and they wanted to do everything and go every place.

With banners flying from all the buildings, bunting draped across streets, and wreathes bearing portraits of the king and queen hanging every place, London was in a festive mood. The streets were thronged with people of all nationalities. Troops from all over the British Empire, to the number of 50,000, added color and gaiety to the crowd.

Every hotel in the great city was filled to capacity. Big s.h.i.+ps lay at anchor in the port, floating hotels for visitors from Australia, South Africa, the American continents, the West Indies, from the remotest corners of the globe.

During the day, all these people poured out into the streets. With bands playing, troops marching, parades wherever you looked, it was all very gay and exciting.

"Did you ever see anything like this in your whole life?" Nan looked about and laughed. Walter was at her side, making way for her, as she pushed her way through the crowds outside the royal offices where the court of claims had just met.

"No, Princess," Walter grinned down at her.

"Oh, don't call me that," Nan protested. "Really, I sometimes feel awfully silly about this whole business. Imagine me acting as lady-in-waiting to a queen. Did you see all those people stare at me in there?"

"They weren't staring. They were admiring you." Walter could be gallant at times. Now he was secretly a little awed at the turn of events, impressed by Nan's new importance, for her claim had been presented to the solemn be-wigged court and accepted.

She was to a.s.sist at the coronation and, according to an ancient ruling, receive in payment eight seats inside Westminster to be distributed as she willed! Their promised seats in Piccadilly, obtained by Mr. Mason, had been of the best, but these, these were priceless! It was impossible to buy them. They could be obtained only through a special grant from the king, even as Nan had received hers.

Now, she could hardly wait as Walter drove slowly along with the left hand traffic that is peculiar to London. She had seats, she thought to herself, for Bess, Laura, Amelia, Rhoda, Grace and Walter--how nice he was being to her!--Dr. Prescott, and Professor Krenner, and she wanted to tell them all right away!

CHAPTER x.x.x

THE KING IS CROWNED!

The day of the coronation came at last. It was a bright clear day, king's weather the Londoners called it.

The streets all along the route of the procession were crowded with great ma.s.ses of people, held back from the road by London bobbies. They hung out of windows, sat in trees, covered the tops of buildings, and filled immense grandstands. Some of them had been in their places all night. Others, long before dawn, had found their way through the dark streets. It seemed as though all the world was there, waiting expectantly for the royal family.

When the procession came at last, wave after wave of cheering swept along the crowds. From her place in a coach, Nan looked out on a merry happy throng, for the king was well beloved by his people.

Nan, with others who were to surround the royal family in its moment of triumph, was ushered through a side door of the Cathedral and taken to her place under the great pointed arches. Here, in this church, every English sovereign since the beginning of England's history had received his crown, and here, now amid the tombs of kings and queens and the distinguished dead of all ages, a new king and queen were to take their vows.

These things ran through Nan's mind as she glanced about the Cathedral and tried to locate her friends. Was that Bess that she saw in a gallery high above her? And that Walter sitting next to her? Nan puckered her brows and looked again. Yes, it was, and she had no more than found them, when the deep tones of the great cathedral organ spread out through the church. The Westminster choir joined in singing, "I was glad when they said unto me, we will go into the House of the Lord."

With this, the king and queen entered, walking slowly and solemnly down the long coronation carpet to the altar where they stopped and knelt.

During the service that followed, so solemn and serious that many in the church were crying, Nan, for the first time began to realize what a great honor had been bestowed upon her in allowing her to be present.

She felt humble and insignificant as the ceremony proceeded from one climax to another.

When the Archbishop of Canterbury finally placed the crown on the king's head and said, "G.o.d crown you with a crown of glory and righteousness," no other sound could be heard under the great vaulted arches. Then, as he finished his words, drums and trumpets broke into a clamor and the shout of "G.o.d Save the King!" rang through the Abbey, from floor to roof, while far away outside, guns announced to the waiting throngs that a new king had been crowned.

The peers put on their coronets. In the same manner as the king, the queen was crowned. The peeresses put on their coronets.

When it was all over, a procession formed and pa.s.sed, under the slanting rays of light that came through the big rose windows, to the wide open doors and then out, where all London waited to sing and shout, "May the King live forever! Long live the King!"

"I'll never forget it," Nan said to her friends, her Lakeview Hall friends and Jeanie, Hetty, and Maureen at the tea that followed. It was the tea that had been planned so long before on the boat, and was given now by Hetty's grandmother in honor of Nan so that all might hear of the wonderful things that had been happening.

"Nor will we," her friends echoed, for each had seen something special in the coronation.

So we will leave them, comparing notes on the biggest event of their summer holidays. As we go out, it's Hetty who turns to Maureen and reminds her, "Remember, grandmother said on the boat that you never can tell what's going to happen to the likes of us."

Maureen nods her head, and Hetty adds as we close the door, "What happened to Nan proves it."

You can hear them talking about it now and agreeing. You'll agree too, if you read of their further adventures in the next exciting volume in the series, "Nan Sherwood on the Mexican Border."