The Weight of the Crown

"Bad," Hope said tersely, "very bad indeed. A drunkard, a roué, and a traitor. It is for the queen's sake that I turn to Asturia."

"I can quite understand that. Queen Margaret of Asturia seems very fortunate in her friends. Look at this. Then put it in your pocket, and take the first opportunity of destroying it."

And Jessie handed the mysterious note to Ronald, who read it again with a puzzled air.

"That came from Vera Galloway," the girl explained. "She is close by, but she does not seem to have finished her task yet. Why I am here playing her part I cannot say. But there it is. This letter alludes to General Maxgregor, who is upstairs in one of the rooms in close attendance on the King of Asturia, who is suffering from one of his alcoholic attacks. Do you think that it is possible for anybody to see into the room?"

"Certainly," Ronald replied. "For instance, there are terraces at the end of the garden made to hide the mews at the back from overlooking the grounds. An unseen foe hidden there in the trees, with a good glass, may discover a good deal. Vera Galloway knows that, or she would not have sent you that note. You had better see to it at once."

Jessie hurried away, having first asked Hope to destroy the note. The door of the room containing the king was locked, and Jessie had to rap upon it more than once before it was opened. A voice inside demanded her business.

"I come with a message from the queen," she whispered. She was in a hurry, and there was always the chance of the servants coming along. "Please let me in."

Very cautiously the door was opened. General Maxgregor stood there with a bottle in his hand. His face was deadly pale, and his hand shook as if he had a great fear of something. The fear was physical, or Jessie was greatly mistaken.

"What has happened?" she asked. "Tell me, what has frightened you so terribly?"

"Frightened!" Maxgregor stammered. It seemed odd at the moment to think of this man as one of the bravest and most dashing cavalry officers in Europe. "I don't understand what you mean?"

With just a gesture of scorn Jessie indicated the cheval glass opposite. As Maxgregor glanced at the polished mirror he saw a white, ghastly face, wet with sweat, and with a furtive, shrinking look in the eyes. He passed the back of his hand over his moist forehead.

"You are quite right," he said. "I had not known – I could not tell. And I have been passing through one of the fiercest temptations that ever lured a man to the edge of the Pit. You are brave and strong, Miss Galloway, and already you have given evidences of your devotion to the queen. Look there!"

With loathing and contempt Maxgregor indicated the bed on which the King of Asturia was lying. The pitiful, mean, low face and its frame of shock red hair did not appeal to Jessie.

"Not like one's recognized notion of royalty," she said.

"Royalty! The meanest beggar that haunts the gutter is a prince compared to him. He drinks, he gambles, he is preparing to barter his crown for a mess of pottage. And the fellow's heart is hopelessly weak. At any moment he may die, and the heart of the queen will be broken. Not for him, but for the sake of her people. You see this bottle in my hand?"

"Yes," Jessie whispered. "It might be a poison and you – and you – "

"Might be a poisoner," Maxgregor laughed uneasily. "The reverse is the case. I have to administer the bottle drop by drop till it is exhausted, and if I fail the king dies. Miss Galloway, when you came into the room you were face to face with a murderer."

"You mean to say," Jessie stammered, "that you were going to refrain from – from – "

"That was it, though you hesitate to say the word. I had only to get rid of the contents of that bottle and let it be tacitly understood that the patient had taken his medicine. In an hour he would be dead – his heart would have given way under the strain. The world would have been well rid of a scoundrel, and I should never have been found out. The queen would have regained her freedom at the loss of Asturia. And I would have consoled her – I could have healed her wound."

The last words came with a fierce indrawing of the speaker's breath. One glance at his face, and Jessie knew everything. She could feel for the long-drawn agony of the strong man's temptation. She loved herself, and she could realize it all. There was nothing but pity in her heart.

"I understand," she said. "Oh, I understand perfectly. I came in time to save you. General Maxgregor, this matter must never be alluded to between us again. The temptation is past now, I am certain. A brave and good soldier like you – But I am forgetting. I did not come to you from the queen as I said, because the queen has already departed. I had an urgent message from some unknown friend who desires me to say that you have left the blind up."

"Bless me! and is that really a fact?" Maxgregor exclaimed. "And it is quite possible for any one to see into this room from the terrace at the end of the garden. I used to play here as a boy. There are many spies about to-night. I am glad you reminded me."

Maxgregor crossed over to the window and laid his hand on the blind. As he stood there with the light behind him his figure was picked out clear and sharp. The blind came down with a rush, there was a little tinkle of glass, and the general staggered back with his hand to his shoulder. A moan of pain escaped him as he collapsed into a chair.

"What is it?" Jessie asked anxiously. "Pray tell me, what is the matter? That broken glass – "

"A bullet," Maxgregor whispered between his teeth, that were clenched in pain. "As I stood in the window somebody fired at me from the garden. It must have been a watcher hidden amongst the trees on the terrace. A little more to the left and my career had been ended."

The man had obtained a grip of himself now, but he was evidently suffering intense pain. A dark stain of red broke out on the left side of his coat.

"I have been hit in the shoulder," he said. "I have no doubt that it is little more than a flesh wound, but it is bleeding, and I feel faint. I once lay on the battlefield all night with such a wound, so that I can put up with it. Please leave me alone for a moment; do not think of me at all. It is just the time for the king to have another dose of those drops. There is no help for it now, Miss Galloway. You must stay and give the king his medicine until it is all gone. Meanwhile, I can only sit here and suffer. For Heaven's sake never mind me."

Jessie took the bottle from the hand of the stricken man and walked to the bed. She marvelled at the steadiness of her own hand. The drops fell on the lips of the sleeping man, who was now breathing regularly. Half an hour passed, and then the bottle was empty.

"I have done my task," Jessie said. "What next? Shall I call Lord Merehaven – "

"Not for worlds," Maxgregor whispered fiercely. "He must not know. We must wait till the house is quiet. There is no occasion … how faint and giddy I am! If there was only one man whom I could trust at this critical moment!"

CHAPTER VIII

THE VERY MAN

Jessie thought for a moment, then a brilliant inspiration came to her. She touched Maxgregor on the arm.

"I have the very man," she said. "You know him; he is a good and efficient soldier. Moreover, he is anxious to obtain a post in the Asturian army. He is a great friend of mine – Captain Ronald Hope."

"You are a veritable angel of mercy and courage," Maxgregor cried. "There is no man I would sooner trust in a crisis like this than Captain Hope. Will you take long to find him?"

Jessie engaged to have Ronald in the room in five minutes. She crept down the stairs as if listless and bored with everything, but her heart was beating thick and fast. There was no trouble in finding Ronald, who advanced towards the stairs at Jessie's signal. She wasted no words in idle explanation, but led him directly to the room where Maxgregor was waiting.

"We seem to have dropped into a murderous gang," he said, when the hurried explanation was finished. "Do you think those fellows know everything, General?"

"I fancy they know a great deal," Maxgregor muttered. "They know that they will be more safe if I am out of the way, and they have a pretty good notion of the identity of the poor fool lying on the bed yonder. If we could only get him away! He had no business to come here at all, and yet the queen could not do anything else. If we could only get him away!"

"Wouldn't it come to the same thing if those murderous ruffians merely thought that the king had gone?" Jessie asked. "Then in the dead of the night I could manage the real removal. If I could show you a way of throwing dust in the eyes of those people – "

"You have a plan?" Maxgregor said. "A clever woman against the world! Say on."

"My plan is a very simple one," Jessie said. "Before long the grounds will be deserted for supper. There will be nobody in the garden at all. Supper is at midnight. Change clothes with the king, though it will be a tight fit for you, General. Then you can descend by the balcony to the garden. Go to the gate that leads into the lane beyond, walk as if you were under the influence of recent potations. At the end of the lane are cabs. Take one and go to your chambers and send for a doctor. Doubtless you will be followed in another cab by whoever was, or rather is, in the garden, but I will see that the murderer is delayed. Later on Captain Hope and myself will decide what is to be done with the king."

The plan was simple, but quite sufficient for the circumstances. Jessie retired into the dressing-room whilst the change was being made. She was not sorry for a little time to collect her thoughts. It seemed to her that she had lived for a century since the few hours before when Madame Malmaison had given her a curt dismissal. A lifetime had been crushed into minutes. The girl was being taxed now to the utmost limit of her strength. She longed for Vera Galloway's return.

Still, she had achieved her object; she was likely to be free from anxiety for some time to come, and best of all, she had found Ronald Hope again. It was good to know that he had loved her all along, and that he had not once faltered in his allegiance. It was worth a great deal to know that.

A whisper behind the door of the dressing-room, and Jessie was herself again. The change had been made, and the king had fallen into his stupor once more. General Maxgregor looked pinched and confined in the dress of his king, but that would pass in the dark. His face was deadly white too, which was all in his favour. The wound had ceased to bleed, but the pain was still there.

"I am quite ready," he whispered, "when you think that the coast is clear."

The house was growing noisy again as the guests filed in to supper. Jessie ventured into the corridor presently and looked out into the grounds. So far as she could see the place was empty. She would go and take her place by the door leading into the lane, and the general was to follow a little later. Would Ronald lend her half a sovereign? Jessie shuddered and turned a little pale as she pushed through the belt of trees behind the terrace, for the would-be murderer might have been lurking there at that moment.

From where she stood she could see Maxgregor coming in her direction. He walked unsteadily; there was no reason to sham intoxication, for his wound did that for him. It was only the iron nerve of the man that kept him going at all. Jessie was thankful at length to see that Maxgregor had reached the door. At the end of the lane two hansoms were standing. The general stumbled into one of them and was driven rapidly away. Then, as Jessie had confidently anticipated, another figure emerged as if from the door of the garden and hailed the other hansom. Doubtless the idea was to keep the general's cab in sight and track him to his destination, under the impression that the King of Asturia was in the first hansom.

But Jessie was resolved to frustrate that. She stepped quickly forward and hailed the other cab. Then for the first time she saw that the newcomer was not, as she expected, a man, but a woman. She was tall and fair, and exceedingly good looking.

"I particularly want that cab," she said coolly. "I put up my hand first."

The speaker used good English, Jessie noticed, though with a lisp. Without waiting to combat the point, Jessie jumped into the cab.

"There is another a little way down the lane," she said. "I am in a hurry, or I would wait. Please drive me to 14, Albert Mansions, Hyde Park."

With a sort of smothered exclamation, the other hurried down the lane. The cabman again asked where he was to go. He had not caught the direction, he said.

"I don't want to go anywhere," Jessie said coolly, as she came to the ground again. "Take this half sovereign, and drive some distance, say a mile, at a good pace. And if you can possibly prevent that woman behind catching the first cab so much the better. Now bang your doors to and be off."

With a grin the cabman touched his cap, the door banged, and the hansom set off as if the fare were in a breakneck hurry. Standing well back in the doorway Jessie had the satisfaction of seeing the fair woman flash by her presently on her futile errand. She had saved the situation for the present. Nobody guessed where the King of Asturia was, and the spy had gone off on a false errand altogether. No doubt the would-be assassin had departed by this time.

In a fever of impatience Ronald Hope awaited Jessie at the steps of the balcony. The gardens were quite deserted by this time, so that it was possible to talk in safety.

"He got clear off," Jessie said, not without a little pardonable pride. "As I expected, an attempt was made to follow him, only fortunately there were only two hansoms in the lane, and I took the second one and pretended to drive away whilst the spy was hurrying elsewhere in search of a conveyance. That was what I wanted your half sovereign for, Ronald."

"And the spy?" Ronald asked. "What sort of a fellow was he?"

"It was not a fellow at all. The spy was a woman, and a very nice looking one, too. Tall and fair, with rather a patrician cast of features. But I should know her again."

"And now you are going to tell me everything, dearest?" Ronald said.

"Indeed I am not going to do anything of the sort just at present," Jessie said. "I don't want anybody to see me talking to you in this fashion when everybody is at supper. Recollect that I am Miss Vera Galloway, and that I am supposed to be fond of a certain Charles Maxwell, whose friends may make mischief for him. I shall go into supper; and indeed, Ronald, a little food and a glass of wine are absolute necessities, for my legs are trembling as if I had walked too far. Have patience."

Ronald bent and kissed the speaker, with a fervent hope that everything would end well. Jessie slipped into the supper-room presently and took her seat at a table with three other people, who welcomed her heartily. She had not the least idea who they were, but they evidently knew Vera Galloway very well indeed. Some of the questions were very awkward ones for the girl to reply to.

"My dear friends," she said, "I am ravenously hungry. Positively, I have a country appetite. A little of the chicken and salad and just a glass of champagne. I am not going to answer any questions till I have had my supper. Go on with your gossip."

In spite of her anxiety Jessie made a hearty supper. She was glad presently when a footman came up to her with a message. She hoped that Vera Galloway, in the guise of a shop-girl, had come back. But it was not the real Vera, it was only an intimation to the effect that a district messenger boy was waiting to see Miss Vera Galloway in the hall. Hurriedly Jessie passed out.

"Charing Cross 'Ospital, miss," the lad said as he touched his cap. "Young person from a shop. Had a nasty accident; run over by a cab. Said as they was to let you know as how she could not come to-night and see to your hat as arranged."

Jessie checked a wild burst of hysterical laughter. She was in a pretty predicament indeed.

She was not even aware of Vera's maid's name. She would write a letter to Vera asking for definite instructions. The note was despatched at length, and Jessie came into the hall with a feeling of wonder as to what was going to happen next. She was glad to find Ronald Hope awaiting her.

"There are lines of anxiety on your face," he said. "I shall be very glad when the real Vera Galloway comes back and enables that 'young person' Jessie Harcourt to depart in peace. Let me know when the time comes, so that I can escort you back to your lodgings and talk matters over with you and Ada."

"There is not the slightest chance of your doing that to-night, Ronald," Jessie said, repressing a wild desire to laugh. "My dear boy, this thing is developing from one adventure to a hideous nightmare. Of course, I haven't the remotest idea what Miss Galloway had in her mind when she brought me here, but I have just heard that she has met with an accident which will detain her in Charing Cross Hospital till the end of the week."

"Which means that you must carry on the masquerade till then?"

"Which means that I must try, which is a very different thing altogether. I can only clear myself by confessing the truth, and thereby getting Miss Galloway into serious trouble. She is a good girl, and I am certain that she is up to no wrong. She is making a great sacrifice for the sake of somebody else. If I tell the truth, that sacrifice will be in vain. Ronald, tell me what I am to do for the best."

But Ronald Hope had no advice to offer. The situation was beyond the wildest dreams of fiction. He could only shrug his shoulders and hope for the best. There was nothing for it now but to sit down and watch the progress of events.

"Let us go and enjoy ourselves," Ronald said. "I feel horribly guilty over the whole thing, especially as Lady Merehaven is such a dear good friend of mine. Is that a band I can hear in the garden? Let us walk about, and pretend that we are perfectly gay and happy."

Supper was over by this time, and the guests all over the house and grounds. Jessie thought of that white, silent form sleeping in the room where she had conducted the Queen of Asturia and General Maxgregor. A sudden thought had come to her.

"I can't do it, Ronald," she said. "Practically, I am left guardian of a king. I, who was only this morning quite content to try on bonnets in a Bond Street shop! It seems almost incredible, but the fact remains. If his majesty comes to his senses – "

"By Jove!" Ronald said thoughtfully. "I have never thought of that. What are you going to do?"

"Run upstairs again and see that the king is all right. Then there is another matter that has entirely escaped my attention in the new complication – General Maxgregor. He went away from here badly hurt and in great pain. He may have fainted in the cab – he may be dead, perhaps. Ronald, you must be guided by me. You have the run of the house – you seem to come and go as you like."

"I have had the run of the house since I was a kid in knickerbockers, Jessie."

"Very good. Then you are to go at once to the general's lodgings and see that everything is being done for him. Then come back and report progress. Go at once, please."

Ronald departed obediently. As Jessie crossed the room in the direction of the house, three girls stood in her way. She would have passed them for strangers, but they held on to her in a manner so familiar that Jessie realized they were friends of Vera Galloway's.

"What is the matter with the girl to-night?" one of them cried gaily. "There is a frown on her brow, there are lines on her cheeks. Is it Tommy or Larry that causes the trouble?"

Jessie laughed in affected good humour, wondering all the while who Tommy and Larry might be. The question was pressed again, and there was nothing but to answer it.

"Oh, they are all right," she said in an offhand way. "Haven't you seen them to-night?"

"To-night!" one of the girls cried. "When? On one of the tables after the sugar? Positively, I am jealous of your Larry. But he would not have done so well at Brighton if Lionel had been there."

"Possibly not," Jessie admitted. "As Tommy said to me – "

"Tommy said to you!" laughed another of the girls. "Oh, you people are absurd over your pets. Cats are all very well in their way, but whilst there are dogs and horses – "

Jessie felt an inclination to embrace the speaker who had quite innocently helped her out of the hole. It was quite evident that Tommy and Larry were two pet cats belonging to Miss Galloway. The Lionel in question, whose absence from Brighton – presumedly at a show – was evidently a pet of the tall girl with the very nice blue eyes. The incident was farcical enough, but the incidents came so fast that they were beginning to get on Jessie's nerves.

"I'll come and see Lionel soon, if I may," she said. "Is that Lady Longmarsh over there? I have been looking for her all the evening."

And Jessie managed to slip away into the house. Here and there someone or another smiled at her and asked her questions that she found it difficult to parry, chaff and badinage that would have been easy to Vera Galloway, though they were as Greek to her double.

"I can positively feel my hair turning grey," Jessie said to herself as she crept up the stairs. The thought of carrying on this imposition till the end of the week was appalling. "I shall have to invent a bad turn of neuralgia, and stay in my bedroom till Saturday. Vera is a society girl, and surely has many social engagements, and I don't even know what her programme for to-morrow is."

Jessie slipped into the room where the king lay. He looked grotesque enough in Maxgregor's uniform, and not in the least like a ruler. So far as Jessie could see, the poor creature looked like sleeping a long time yet. The danger of collapse was past for the present, but the deep sleep of utter intoxication still clung to the ruler of Asturia. For some time, at any rate, there was no expectation of danger in that quarter. And there was always Ronald Hope to fall back upon. When everybody had gone, which was not likely to be very soon, the king would be smuggled out of the house. The Queen of Asturia had gone off in a hurry, but she was pretty certain to send instructions by somebody. The man on the bed turned and muttered something in his sleep.

"Don't let anybody know," he said. "He's at Charleston Street, No. 15. Always manage it that way. Give me some more of it. Out of the other bottle."

The voice trailed off in a murmur, and the deep sleep fell again. Jessie crept away and locked the door. Down in the hall a great throng of guests passed from the room into the garden and back again. At the back of the press Jessie caught sight of a tall, stately figure, with the light falling on her glorious hair and sparkling on her diamond tiara. Jessie's heart gave a great leap; she felt that the needed aid was close at hand.

"Heaven be praised!" she said. "The queen has returned again. What does she know, I wonder?"

CHAPTER IX

"PONGO"

The Queen of Asturia was back again surely enough, smiling as if she had not a trouble in the world. Lady Merehaven was listening to what she had to say.

"I found that I had to return," she was murmuring. "I am searching for a will-o'-the-wisp. I was told that I should find him at the Duchess of Norton's, but he had been called away from there. There was a case needing his urgent attention at Charing Cross Hospital. I was told that subsequent to that matter my will-o'-the-wisp was coming on here positively. Have you seen Dr. Varney?"

Lady Merehaven had not seen the distinguished physician, but he had certainly promised to look in at Merehaven House in the course of the evening. Despite his position and his many affairs, Dr. Varney was a man who prided himself upon keeping his social engagements, and he was certain to appear. It seemed to Jessie that the queen seemed to be relieved about something. She had never ceased to smile, but there was an expression of sudden fierce gladness in her eyes. As she looked up her glance took in Jessie. There was a quick signal, the uplifting of a bouquet, and that was all.

But Jessie understood that the queen wanted to speak to her without delay. The opportunity came presently, for Lady Merehaven was called away, leaving a pompous old diplomat to wait on the queen. It was an easy matter to send him in quest of lemonade, and then as the bouquet was lifted again, Jessie crossed over rapidly to the side of the queen.