pleased when there is some little surprise and above all thingshe likes to see his subjects making themselves happy."
"The Baron de Ruvigny says he is certain that Colonel Lejoille will lendthe band of the regiment, and we must have the militia and volunteerbands. Will it not be delightful?" exclaimed Mabel.
"We must have two large tents put up on one side of the lawn, so as notto shut out the view from the windows."
"There must be one for dancing," said Lucy, who was especially fond ofdancing. "There will be no want of partners, as there used to be beforethe foreign officers came here. How very kind of the King to say hewill come."
"Do you think that Cochut will have time to prepare a breakfast?" askedthe Colonel, looking at his sister. "We must send for him at once toreceive his orders. Baron, we must leave the bands of the regiments toyou. Harry, you must arrange with Mr. Savage, the sail-maker, for thetents."
"Now, recollect you two young men are to devote all your time andenergies to these objects," said Madam Everard, looking at them with ameaning glance.
"I must see you both in my study before you leave," said the Colonel,"and now, lads, go to breakfast."
The two young men looked at each other, and possibly suspected that theColonel might, by some wonderful means, have heard of their quarrel.
CHAPTER SIX.
ROYAL VISITORS.--THE KING AND THE MACE-BEARER.--THE FOES RECONCILED.
The news of the good King's intended visit to Stanmore Park was soonspread abroad. The mayor and burgesses of Lynderton resolved that theywould request his Majesty to honour their borough by stopping on his wayat their town-hall. The whole place was speedily in a state of the mostintense commotion. While the Colonel and his womankind were making allthe necessary preparations at the park, the lieges of Lynderton wereengaged in the erection of triumphal arches, with a collection ofbanners of all sorts of devices, painting signboards and shop-fronts,and the polishing up of military accoutrements.
Lynderton was got into order for the reception of royalty even beforeStanmore Park had been prepared. One chief reason was that there weremany more hands in the town to undertake the work, and another was,there was less work to be done. The great difficulty was to have theband playing at both places at once.
Colonel Everard had already engaged them, and they could not on anyaccount disappoint him. Still for the honour of Lynderton it wasnecessary that a musical welcome should be wafted to the King as heentered the precincts of the borough. At last it was arranged that apart of the foreign band should remain in the town to welcome the King,and then set off at a double-quick march to Stanmore, to be in readinessto receive him there.
The eventful morning at length arrived. It broke, however, with athreatening aspect. There were clouds in the sky, which looked moreinclined to gather than disperse. Jacob Tuttle, who met Harry on hisway to Stanmore, where he was to finish getting the tents in order, toldhim that it would be a rainy day. Madam Everard was in a state ofgreater anxiety than any one else; indeed, she had many things totrouble her. She was not sure that Monsieur Cochut would have performedhis work to her satisfaction. Then there were so many mouths to feed,besides the King and his attendants, that she was afraid there might notbe sufficient provisions for them. The tents were already erected.Harry had performed his part in a most satisfactory manner. She had nodoubt the Baron de Ruvigny would arrange the band.
Not only was the King expected, but good Queen Charlotte and one or twoof the princesses had expressed their intention of driving over toStanmore. A few select guests had been invited to meet them. Amongothers was Lady Tryon. There were also General Perkins and his wife,and the well-known couple, Sir James and Lady Wallace. The General andthe Admiral were old friends, and older enemies, for they had met aslads, when one was lieutenant of marines, and the other a midshipman,and had actually fought a duel, at a time when that foolish and wickedcustom was in vogue even among youths.
[The writer thinks it well at this point to state that the Royal visitactually took place as described; also that the main facts andcharacters in the story are taken from an unpublished diary of the time,in possession of a member of the family.]
The great mass of the neighbourhood were invited to the grounds. Allthe arrangements were reported complete; but Madam Everard kept lookingup anxiously at the sky, which threatened every instant to send down itswaters upon the earth. The clouds gathered closer and closer, and sometime before the hour at which the royal family were expected to arrivethe rain began to descend. It was melancholy to look at the tentsgrowing darker and darker as the water poured down on them, and to seethe flags which should have been blowing out joyfully drooping on theflagposts. The rain pattered against the window panes, and the air blewin with a damp feel, which gave promise of a drenching day. MadamEverard became very unhappy; even the young ladies lost their spirits.The Colonel was the only person who seemed unconcerned.
"I have done my best," he observed, "and there is no man more ready tomake allowance than the King, God bless him." The Colonel had been pageto George the Second, and had been attached to the court of the presentKing, and knew him well, and, moreover, his many trials anddifficulties. "`Uneasy is the head that wears a crown.' Our good Kingfinds it so, and few of his subjects have greater domestic as well aspublic trials to go through."
Harry Tryon had been very busy and highly flattered by the confidencewhich the Colonel and Madam Everard had placed in him. Whether or nothe still contemplated fighting the Baron de Ruvigny cannot now be said.
Seeing Madam Everard's anxiety, he offered in spite of the rain to mounta horse and gallop off to ascertain whether the royal party were comingor not. His offer was accepted, and he was soon galloping away throughthe street of Lynderton on the high road to Lyndhurst, by which it wasexpected the King would come. He met on his way an open carriage andfour horses, full, as it seemed to him, of old women wrapped up in redcloaks and hoods, such as were worn by the peasantry. He had got to theturnpike kept by an old woman, Mammy Pocock by name, when he inquiredwhether the royal family had come by.
"Why, bless you, yes; that be they," said the old woman, pointing alongthe road. "They stayed in here ever so long, but at last they thoughtMadam Everard would be waiting for them, and so they borrowed my cloak,and they sent out, and borrowed as many cloaks and shawls as could befound in all the cottages near. It was curious to see the Queen andprincesses laughing as they put them on."
Harry was going to hurry back with the news, when he saw a party of fouror five horsemen coming along the road. By this time the rain hadsomewhat ceased. He drew up on one side to see who the strangers were.He had little difficulty in recognising in the old gentleman who rodefirst with his coat buttoned up, but without any great coat, the King ofEngland. Sir George Rose and two or three other gentlemen accompaniedhis Majesty. One of them, apparently, was urging him to stop at thetollgate, and dry his clothes.
"A little wet won't hurt a man! a little wet won't hurt a man!" answeredthe King. "The sun will soon come out, and answer the purpose betterthan a fire."
As Harry knew that the Queen would arrive at Stanmore before he couldget there, and that the King would be delayed for some time at Lyndertonhe followed the cavalcade at a respectful distance.
As they reached the entrance of the town the rain altogether ceased, andthe sun shone forth, and shouts of welcome rent the air, and the bandplayed a joyous tune, and the Mayor and the whole corporation in statecame forth to welcome his Majesty, and to accompany him to the entranceof the town-hall. He there was ushered up, and led to a seat at thefarther end, where he graciously received an address from the mayor,who, with the members of the corporation, were formally introduced.
Conspicuous at the other end of the room was a gaunt personage inscarlet robes trimmed with yellow fringe, bearing in his hand anenormous gilt club, so it looked.
"Who is that?" asked the King, eyeing the figure with a comicalexpression.
"That's our mace-bearer,
your Majesty, Jedidiah Pike."
Jedidiah Pike, hearing his name announced, supposed that he wassummoned, and advanced up the room. Overcome, however, by his feelings,and awe at finding himself in the presence of majesty, down he went onhis knees, mace and all, and prostrated himself at the King's feet,while, looking up with an expression of the most intense reverence, heendeavoured to kiss the hand of majesty.
"Get up, man! get up!" exclaimed the King, scarcely refraining hislaughter, "I am not the Grand Seignior nor a three-tailed Basha. Getup, get up, man, and you shall kiss my hand, if it pleases you." TheKing could restrain his laughter no longer, and gave way to a heartycachination, in which his attendants, and even the mayor and corporationof Lynderton, heartily joined, greatly to the confusion of poor Pike,who retreated backwards, very nearly tumbling over his own gown as
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