The Web of the Golden Spider Part 27

"I must tell you, and you will understand. Oh, please to understand!

He wanted to--to stay and--and I wanted him to stay. I think if--if it hadn't been for this trouble we--we would have been married. But now----"

"Your station forbids it," he finished for her with a note of harshness in his voice.

She answered very quietly--so quietly that it chided him.

"No, it is not that. He doesn't need any t.i.tle men might give him. I would have him King--but my people would only kill him. That is the reason."

"Pardon me," begged Wilson. "I--I did not understand."

"They are very jealous--my people. He would have many enemies here--enemies who wouldn't fight fair."

"And he made you Queen for this!" gasped Wilson.

"He didn't know--did he?"

"I should say not."

"Now I want you to talk to him if he returns, and tell him he mustn't come back and get killed. Won't you?"

"I will talk to him if I see him, but--he will come back just the same."

"He mustn't. You don't understand fully the danger."

"You couldn't make _him_ understand."

"Oh!" she cried.

She put her clasped hands to her hot cheeks a moment.

"If we could keep him away for a month--just a month. Then perhaps I could let someone else--be--be here."

"You mean to abdicate?"

"Yes, couldn't I? The General told me that if I didn't send him away at once you would all be killed; but perhaps later--when things have quieted----"

"There will always be," he warned, "a republic in the heart of your kingdom. The quieter--the more danger."

General Otaballo had remained in the rear of the room doing his best to control his impatience, but now he ventured to step forward. He saluted.

"Pardon me, your Highness, but they wait to make you their Queen."

"Don't! Don't!" she pleaded. "Leave me for to-day just a maid of Carlina. To-morrow----"

"Your Majesty," answered the General, with some severity, "to-morrow may be too late for all of us."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"That the situation now is a great deal more serious than your Majesty seems to understand. We are victorious, yes. But it is as difficult to maintain a victory as to win one. To-day the crowd throw up their caps for Beatrice, but if Beatrice spurns them and ignores their loyal cheers, it takes but a trifle to turn their thoughts the other way.

Let me escort your Majesty through the city; let me establish you in the palace which has been graced by so many of your kin; let them see you where their grandfathers saw your brave aunt, and the last drop of blood in their veins is yours."

She pouted like a child, her thoughts still upon other things than crowns of human make.

"But I don't want their blood. I don't want to be Queen. I want to be left alone."

She looked out the window to the blue sky so full of gold and peace, where the birds tumbled at will, their throats bursting with song.

"General," she said, "leave me to-day, at any rate. That is all I ask,--just to-day."

"Your Majesty," he answered slowly, "it is not mine to grant, not yours to take. Many things may happen in a night,--too many. There will be much talking in the cafes this evening, many gatherings of men, much afoot before dawn. The forces brought in by General Danbury already belong to anyone who will pay them. It is not his fault,--they fought well for their money; but now they are equally ready to fight again for someone else. You alone can hold them to your cause.

President Arlano escaped us and is doubtless busy. If we gain the crowd, we are safe against anything he may do; without the crowd, we are in jeopardy. Once the people see you crowned--once they can shout for Beatrice with her before their eyes, a living thing to fight for--they are ours forever."

"But----"

"Your Majesty has not fully considered the alternative; it is that you and I and all the brave men who fought to-day for you will be at the mercy of Arlano,--at the mercy of the man whose father slew your aunt,--at the mercy of the man who tortured to death Banaca. It is a b.l.o.o.d.y mercy we would get. Beside your own, a thousand lives depend upon what you do before night."

The girl drew back from him in fright. With the memory of her quiet yesterday in the sun; the drowsy yesterdays which preceded it; with the picture of this very man who in the past had never stood to her for anything but a pleasant companion at tea, the present situation seemed absurd and unreal. What was she that her insignificant actions should be of such moment? She had but one object in mind: to place Danbury without the power of all this strife, and she was even balked in that. For the first time she realized fully what a serious crisis he had precipitated. But it was too late for her to check its results.

If she went now with General Otaballo, it would leave no possible outlet for her to avoid a.s.suming the t.i.tle of Queen; she must mount the throne at once. To do this meant to give up the greatest thing in her life. There was no possible escape from it. Only by renouncing Danbury utterly, by keeping him from Carlina, could she save his life.

The only alternative was to fly, but this meant the sacrifice of too many other lives dear to her. The loyal, aged man before her who had thrown the remnant of his years into the cause was in itself enough to banish such a thought from her mind.

And this was what d.i.c.k had come across the seas to accomplish. It was a cruel jest of Fate. In his desire to secure for her all that he in his big heart thought she deserved, he had cheated her of the very thing her soul most craved. Yes, it was cruel, cruel. It would have been easier if he had not told her of his love, if he at least had left it a thing merely to be guessed at, a pleasant dream which she could have kept always as a sort of fairy possibility.

Her cheeks lost their color as she faced the man who watched her with fatherly solicitude. He stood waiting like some Nemesis,--waiting with the a.s.surance that she would act as all the royal women of her race had always acted, bravely and loyally. From without there came a fresh cheer from the impatient men who waited for her.

"You hear?" he asked gently.

Her lips scarcely moved.

"Yes, I hear."

For a moment she smothered her face in her hands. This meant so much to her. It was not a matter of a day, a week, a year; it was for a whole weary, lonesome lifetime. Then she faced him.

"I will come," she said.

He raised her fingers to his lips.

"Your Majesty has the blood of her race."

She turned a white face to Wilson.

"That's it," she said. "They call me Queen, but you see how helpless I am. You must tell him this and you must not let him come back."

Otaballo held the door wide for her and she pa.s.sed out. From the bottom of his heart Wilson pitied her, but this very pity brought to his mind that other woman whom he himself had left behind. He hurried out of the building after telling Stubbs where he could be found, and across the street. He took the stairs joyously, three at a time. The door of the room where he had left her stood open. The bed within was empty.

CHAPTER XVIII