The Weight of the Crown

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The Weight of the Crown Page 27

by Fred M. White


  CHAPTER XXVII

  LECHMERE TO THE RESCUE

  With a new object uppermost in his mind Lechmere left Merehaven Houseand took his way into Piccadilly. The roads were almost deserted now,save for a solitary foot-passenger and a dingy night cab. One of thesecrept along presently, and Lechmere ordered the driver to take him toFleet Street. In contrast with the West End there was bustle andanimation enough in the street that never sleeps. It was near to thehour when the great morning papers went to press; there were lightseverywhere, and the hoarse rattle of machinery. Lechmere came at lengthto the offices of the _Mercury_ and demanded to see the editor. Therequest was an unusual one at so late an hour, and the clerk asked ifthe visitor had an appointment.

  "I have no appointment at all," Lechmere said. "But at the same time Iam going to see the editor. Give my card to Mr. Hunt, and say that Iwill not detain him many moments."

  There was something in Lechmere's manner that caused the clerk to takethe card without further protest. Lechmere had before now forced himselfin times of emergency on the great ones of the earth, so that he was notgoing to be baffled by a newspaper editor, important functionary as thelatter was. He waited some little time before the clerk returned.

  Mr. Hunt was very busy, he said, and was sorry he could not see thegentleman. Perhaps he would like to call later on, or send up the natureof his business? Some very important news had come in late, and in thecircumstances it was impossible for the editor to grant an interview toanybody.

  Lechmere said he would call again, and turned for the door. But he hadno intention of being put off in this way. He paused as a rush ofbusiness distracted the attention of the clerk. In a corridor leading toa flight of steps two jaded-looking reporters were talking eagerly.

  "Is it a fake or a real thing?" the first one said. "I've just come backfrom Westminster--scene in the House, don't you know--and Gregg wouldnot even look at us. Said we had a real good thing on."

  "Then you didn't get to the bottom of what it was?" the other askedeagerly.

  "No, I didn't. Something about the King of somewhere and a row in theoffice. Anyway, the whole of the staff up in the composing-room areworking with closed doors, so that no hated rival shall get a sniff ofwhat is going on. We are evidently in for a big sensation."

  Lechmere waited for no more; he gripped his opportunity with both hands.He advanced along the corridor to where the two men were talking, andasked what floor Mr. Hunt's office was on. The two men looked at himwith something of admiration on their faces. Hunt was a martinet in hisoffice, and difficult of access at all times.

  "Second floor on the right," one of the reporters said with a wink athis companion. "Don't knock, but walk right in. Hunt is always glad tosee visitors at this hour. It is a refreshing change after the grind ofthe night. He'll be quite pleased to see you."

  Lechmere grimly expressed his thanks, though the sarcastic force of thewords and the wink were not lost on him. He was here to see Hunt, and hewas going to do it at any cost. He made his way up the staircase andalong to the second floor, where a door with the name of Hunt in largeletters attracted his eye. The door of the room was shut, but Lechmerewalked in.

  The room was empty for the moment. The floor was littered with paper andproofs; on the desk a slip of galley proof lay. The heading attractedLechmere's attention, and he whistled. Then he sat calmly down to awaitMr. Hunt's return. He had no undue trial of his patience, for a momentlater the editor of the _Mercury_ bustled into the room.

  There was a pleased smile on his face; he seemed to be on the best ofterms with himself. But the smile faded away, and the mean, eager facegrew anxious as Hunt detected the presence of his visitor.

  "Now this is really too bad, Mr. Lechmere," he protested. Lechmere didnot fail to notice the agitation of the speaker's voice. "Of course, Ihad your card. I sent a message down for you. If you had been the king Iwould not have seen you to-night. I never see anybody after twelveo'clock. I repeat, if you had been the king I should have had to refuseyou an audience."

  "Sounds exceedingly impressive, not to say regal," Lechmere remarked ina dry tone, and without the slightest suggestion of an apology. "Whatking do you happen to mean?"

  "Why, the King of England, of course," Hunt puffed. "Any living king, asa matter of fact."

  "Any king in the _Almanach de Gotha_--with the exception of the King ofAsturia, eh?"

  The question was couched in a tone of easy badinage, but its effect onHunt was wonderful. The face grew grey and his hands trembled. If he hadbeen accused of some crime he could not have looked more agitated. Hetried to bluff, but he could only stammer something incoherent.

  "Really, I don't know what you mean," he said. "The King of Asturia, yousay?"

  "My words were quite plain, Mr. Hunt. I came here to-night determined tosee you and determined not to be bluffed by all the clerks in youroffice. Your paper has gone to press, and therefore you must have a fewminutes to spare. You need not be afraid. Your composing-room door islocked, and the present item of news destined for your readers is notlikely to leak out. Will you be so good as to let me have an advancedcopy of the paper?"

  "Certainly not," Hunt said. "This is an outrage. If you do not leave myoffice----"

  "Sit down," Lechmere said sternly. He might have been speaking to anunruly hound. "You are not going beyond that door without we have anexplanation. The King of Asturia was here to-night. If you deny it, Ishall give you the lie from that printed proof on the table before you."

  Hunt glanced at the long galley slip and wriggled. All his dignity hadvanished.

  "I am not going to deny it," he said. "The King of Asturia has beenhere. He came in a cab. I did not send for him, he came of his own freewill. He gave me certain information----"

  "I have not the slightest doubt of it," Lechmere said drily."Unfortunately, his majesty has made for himself in London the sort ofreputation which is coveted only by a certain class of music-hallfrequenter and the haunter of the typical Strand bar. There have beenoccasions when his majesty has exceeded the bounds in the way ofintoxicating liquor. Did you see any signs of it to-night?"

  Hunt intimated that he had. He was palpably uneasy and uncomfortable.Every admission that he made Lechmere had literally to drag from him.

  "The description sounds convincing," Lechmere said. "But suppose I wasin a position to tell you that the King of Asturia had not been here inFleet Street at all?"

  "Impossible!" Hunt cried. "I saw his majesty; he sat in that chair foran hour. A man in my position is not likely to make mistakes like that.And he gave me certain information that I propose to make a sensationof. What that information is you will know with the rest of the generalpublic when you get your _Mercury_ at breakfast time."

  Lechmere nodded. Beyond the door he could see something in the guise ofa foreman printer with a damp news sheet in his hand. He knew at oncethat here was an early copy of the paper; that early copy he had made uphis mind to possess. He rose as if satisfied with his interview.

  "Very well," he said. "I will wish you good-night. You have done afoolish thing, and, unless I am greatly mistaken, you are the victim ofone of the most mistaken cases of identity ever played off on the editorof a great newspaper. But the fault is on your own head. Good-night."

  Lechmere passed out, closing the door behind him. The printer stoodthere, evidently waiting for him to go. Lechmere silently drew his pursefrom his pocket and extracted a ten-pound note. This he held up in theglaring light of the passage and pointed to the paper. The printerperspired profusely. Then, with a sudden spasmodic gesture he folded upthe paper and placed it in Lechmere's hand, at the same time snatchingconvulsively for the money. The whole transaction did not take fiveseconds.

  Calm and easy in his triumph, Lechmere walked leisurely down the stairs.Once in Fleet Street he stood under the friendly light of a lamp andopened the paper. As he did so he started. Well in hand as he usuallykept himself, Lechmere was surprised to-night.

  There it was for anyb
ody to see who had an eye at all; the fifth pagewas filled with it:--

  "The King of Asturia and his people. His majesty visits the _Mercury_office and speaks freely. Does not care for the responsibilities ofState, and has made up his mind to abdicate. Has already signed thedeclaration to that effect. Prefers Piccadilly to the Balkan service.One of the most amazing romances in the history of Europe."

  "Good Heavens!" Lechmere cried. "So that is the game! What a lucky thingI came down here! Of all the audacious things that ever happened, thisis the most audacious of all."

  He crushed the paper in his hand and hurried breathlessly westward atthe top of his speed.

 

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