“Don’t get heroic, Otto,” said Sarnya. “I think I’ll take another drink - I need another.”
* * * * *
The morning sun was pouring through the east windows of the palace, presaging a perfect day, as Count Jagst entered the room in answer to the king’s summons.
“Look at this, Jagst,” said the old king, passing a paper to his chief of staff. “I found it on the floor just under the corridor door as I came in from my quarters.”
General Count Jagst took the paper and opened it — a single sheet of note paper on which was typed: “For God’s sake, Your Majesty, don’t ride out today.”
“Who’s officer of the guard today?” asked the king. “Someone must have seen who slipped that paper under the door.”
“I don’t know,” said Jagst. “I’ll find out.” He touched a button, and when a secretary came in response he told him to summon the officer of the guard.
“They’re closing in on us, Jagst,” said the king. “I don’t care for myself — I’m old and tired — but Michael; he’s such a little fellow to shoulder all this — and the intrigue and the constant danger to his life. Otto will be regent. That will be bad for the country. Otto never had good sense, and into the bargain he’s a damned traitor. If he hadn’t been my brother I’d have had him shot years ago — he has deserved it; always plotting against me, working with all my enemies. If anything happens to me, Jagst, take Michael out of the country until things quiet down. If he’s needed and wanted, bring him back. That’s what the poor little devil will have to pay for being born in line of succession to a throne. The best I can wish for him is that they won’t want him. Take him out of Europe, Jagst; and don’t let anyone know where you are taking him. They got his father; and if they ever get me, they’ll go after him next.”
There was a knock on the door. The king nodded to Jagst.
“Come in!” said the chief of staff.
Captain Count Sarnya entered and saluted. “You sent for me, Sir?” He stood very erect, looking the king straight in the eyes.
“Yes, Sarnya,” said the monarch. “I found a note that had been slipped under the corridor door, when I came in just now. How could that have happened without someone seeing it done?”
“I have no idea, Sir.”
“There is a sentry on duty in the corridor, isn’t there?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Make a thorough investigation, Sarnya; and report to me personally. That is all.”
As Sarnya closed the corridor door after him, there came a knock on the door that led to the king’s apartments; then it flew open before anyone could say, “Come in,” or “Stay out.” Prince Michael burst in, flushed and eager; but when he saw that the king was not alone, he stopped, stood up very straight, and saluted his grandfather.
The old man looked at the boy and smiled. “Why all the excitement?” he asked.
“We’re late,” said Michael. “It is past time for our ride — you know you said we would ride in the park today. I particularly like that ride.”
“Why do you like it so much?” asked the king.
“Because in the park I see so many little children playing,” explained the boy. “I see them sailing their boats on the pond and flying kites and playing games. I should like to sail a boat on the pond in the park. I should also like very much to fly a kite, but one cannot fly a kite in the palace gardens on account of the trees. Then the palace shuts off the wind, too. However, it is nice to watch them flying theirs in the park. I am all ready to go, Grandpa.”
“Come here,” said the king. He put his hand on the boy’s shoulders. “I am going to disappoint you today, Michael,” he said. “I am not going to take you with me.”
The eagerness went out of the boy’s eyes; and his chin trembled a little, but he said, “Yes, Sir,” without a tremor in his voice.
“It is also a disappointment to me,” said the king, “but something tells me that I have a very important engagement today.”
“Yes, Sir,” said the boy; “but we shall go again another day, shan’t we?”
Then the old king did that which he had never before done in the presence of others. He drew the boy close to him and kissed him.
“I should hate to think that we never should,” he said. “Now run along, my son, and do the best you can in the palace gardens.”
As the door closed behind the boy, Jagst turned upon the king. “You don’t mean to say that you are going to ride out in the city today, do you?” he demanded fiercely. He even forgot to put in a “Sir” or a “Majesty.”
“You wouldn’t want them to think that I am afraid of them, would you, Jagst?” demanded the king, a half-smile upon his lips.
“I don’t give a damn what that scum thinks, Sir,” shouted .the old general. “I’m only thinking of you, and you should be thinking of your country and your people.”
“I am only thinking that I am a king,” said the old man, wearily; “and that kings must do what kings are expected to do. My God, Jagst! All my life I have been doing all the things I didn’t want to do and none of the things I wanted to do.”
“But just today, Sir,” pleaded Jagst. “You will not go today?”
“What is the difference, Jagst? If it is not today, it will be tomorrow. Come, walk as far as the carriage with me.”
* * * * *
“This,” said the little Prince Michael to the gardener’s son, “would be a very nice boat if it didn’t tip over every time we put it in the water. I think there must be something wrong with it. The boats that the children sail in the park do not tip over like this. Have you ever been to the park and seen them sailing their boats?”
“Oh, yes,” replied the gardener’s son. “I have sailed boats there myself. The trouble with this boat is that it has no keel. It should have a weighted keel; then, it wouldn’t tip over so easily.”
“You have been to the park and sailed a boat?” said the prince, wistfully. “I was going there today with my grandfather; but he had a very important engagement, and could not take me with him. Perhaps we shall go tomorrow. What was that?”
“It sounded like one of the big guns at the fort,” said the gardener’s son.
* * * * *
There was rioting in the city that night; and an angry, sullen crowd milled about the great gates before the palace. There were barricades in the streets and machine guns and soldiers and disheveled, loud-mouthed men making speeches.
In the palace a red-eyed boy faced General Count Jagst. “But I do not wish to run away,” he said. “My grandfather did not run away.”
“It was his wish, Your Majesty,” said Jagst. “It was his last command to me.”
“Very well, then, Jagst; I am ready.” Servants carried their portmanteaus to a postern door where waited one of the royal motors that the old king had so scorned. As they entered and drove away, a man watching them from a balcony sighed with relief and turned back into the palace. It was Captain Count Sarnya, Officer of the Guard.
CHAPTER 2
The first intimation that the boy had of the disaster was the consciousness of being roughly awakened in the dead of the night — by what he knew not. The ship still trembled from the shock of the collision; but the noise of the impact had been lost to him in the depths of his deep, childish slumber.
As he rose upon one elbow in his berth he became aware of a great commotion about the steamer, and presently he heard the hoarse voices of the stewards as they called at the doorways of the staterooms, summoning the passengers on deck.
A moment later old Jagst burst into the room where the boy was already getting into his clothes.
“Quick, Your Majesty!” cried the old man. “Come on deck — there is no time to bother about clothes,” and he grasped the boy by the arm to drag him from the stateroom.
“No, Jagst,” exclaimed the boy, holding back. “Go yourself naked if you will, but for my part I prefer to be properly clothed,” and notwithstanding the pleas and urgings of his
companion the youth proceeded to don all his apparel before ever he would step his foot from the room.
When they reached the deck they found the utmost confusion reigning. Two boats filled with women and children already had gotten safely away; but now the steerage passengers, crazed with the panic of fear, had rushed upon the remaining boats where the officers and crew were making futile efforts to drive them back.
Women were alternately praying and screaming. Men ran hither and thither in futile search for boats into which they could place their loved ones. Jagst put a strong arm about the boy and pushed him through the fighting mob surrounding one of the boats.
“A child!” he cried to one of the officers. “Have you room for another child?” The old man knew that it was useless then to plead the cause of royal blood — for that night upon the stricken ship, with death reaching out to claim them all, men were stripped to the bone of their primitive brutality. As in the days of creation a man took only that precedence which his courage and brawn entitled him to.
The crew and the officers at this boat had succeeded in driving back the fear-mad mob, and some semblance of order had been restored there. At Jagst’s question the officer took the boy by the shoulder and hustled him through the guard of seamen toward the boat, into which women and children were being hurried.
At the ship’s side the boy glanced hurriedly about him. On either hand, held back before the revolvers of the crew, were women and children of the steerage. As he saw them his head went up and his young eyes blazed. He turned savagely upon the officer.
“Do you think,” he cried, “that I will enter a boat while there are women still on board the ship?” and with that he turned quickly back into the crowd.
The sailors and some of the men passengers gave a little shout of admiration. A woman was called to take the boy’s place in the boat. Someone strapped a life belt about the boy’s body. The ship was listing terribly to starboard now. The seas were running frightfully high. The noise of the hurricane was deafening, and the lowering clouds that shut out the moon and the stars kept the whole scene enveloped in darkness.
A huge wave struck the ship full upon her port side. Without an instant’s warning she rolled over and went down. The boy, with hundreds of others, had been thrown clear of the tangling wreckage of the decks. He found himself amidst a struggling mass of shrieking humanity. The life belt kept his head above water except when a great wave broke over him. The screaming of those about him, especially of the women, affected him much more than did his own danger; but almost immediately the cries lessened, and after each great wave had passed their numbers were gruesomely less.
The boy shuddered. In reality he was but a child — scarce fourteen. Presently a heavy piece of wreckage swept-down upon him. In the blackness of the night he did not see it, and as it struck a glancing blow against his skull he lost consciousness.
When his eyes opened again to comprehension of the things about him he discovered that the world was all water and he its sole inhabitant. Buoyed up by the life belt, his nose and mouth were still above the surface of the watery universe. He looked about. Ah, what was that strange thing behind him? It loomed large against the skyline as it rose to the crest of the now diminishing sea, and then it vanished into a deep hole for a moment only to reappear once more.
Presently it came close enough for the boy to reach up and grasp its side — it was one of the boats of the lost steamer. Seizing the gunwale he drew himself up and peered over the edge. Ah, this seemed to offer far greater comforts than the cold, wet, undulating element in which creation had discovered him. He climbed in. For an hour he sat shivering upon a thwart debating the wisdom of leaping back once more into the comparatively warm water of the ocean. Then the sun broke through the clouds — a hot tropic sun that soon warmed his hands and face.
He was puzzled by the radiance and heat of the remarkable thing that had appeared so suddenly above him. This was truly a world of marvels. First there had been nothing but the bottomless, tossing, wetness that had enveloped him. Then had come the spacious and luxurious contrivance into which he had clambered, and now, wonder of wonders, there had sprung through the greyness of the vast above a warm and grateful light and comfort.
His wet clothing, he noticed, kept the warmth from reaching those portions of his body which it covered — it was evident that the blow had not affected his reasoning faculties. Examination of the odd and useless encumbrances which covered him and kept off the pleasant warmth revealed the fact that they were removable. Soon thereafter the boy’s entire body was basking in the hot rays of the sun. Fortunately he had not thrown the garments overboard as he had at first been minded to do, and later in the day he was very glad to cover his nakedness from the terrific heat that beat down upon him; but he did not again don the clothing, merely drawing it over him as a covering and protection from the sun.
Hunger and thirst had only commenced to assert themselves poignantly when a ship loomed large and close at hand. It must have been quite close to him for a long time before he discovered it, for not knowing that there was anything to expect other than those things which he had already perceived he had not looked about the horizon in search of other objects.
A light breeze was blowing which eventually drifted the steamer down upon the small boat. The former was a small craft. From its single funnel no smoke issued, and upon its deck but one human being was visible. He leaned over the partially demolished rail watching the tossing small boat with its lonely occupant, a strange, uncouth figure in rags.
As the two boats approached one another, the boy looked up into the bearded face of a gaunt and sinister-looking old man. When they were about to touch, the latter dropped a rope into the youth’s hands; then he leaned far over the rail making odd motions with his fingers and uttering strange, uncanny mouthings.
The boy could not understand. The old man danced up and down, shrieking and yelling like a demon; and all the while he wove his fingers into weird gestures. In the midst of his strange performance a deep moan that was half growl broke from something upon the deck behind him that was hid from the boy’s sight. The old man turned at the interruption to shake his fist in the direction of the sound, and shriek and gibber his anger; then he turned back to the boy.
This time he took one end of the rope and fastened it about his waist, pointing to the boy and then to the rope which he had tied about himself, nodding his head and again wiggling his fingers frantically. The boy comprehended. The odd creature wished him to fasten his end of the rope about himself. Quickly he saw the purpose and a moment later had done as the old man wished.
Half dragged by the old man and half scrambling by himself, the youth reached the deck of the steamer. Before he had an opportunity to look about him his rescuer had confronted him with flying digits. After a moment of this he would stand still looking expectantly at the boy’s hands, and then up into his face. Then he would repeat the operation. At last he seemed to become furious with rage, for he danced up and down shaking his fists and screaming demoniacally.
At last the youth comprehended what was wanted of him. Just as the old fellow had tied the rope about his own waist as a guide to him to do likewise so now his acts were intended as directions for the boy’s further deportment — so thought the youth. Therefore he danced up and down, as did the old man, and shrieked and wiggled his fingers.
But the result of this upon the man was anything but what the boy had expected. Instead of being pleased the old fellow became furious. He leaped at the youth, grasped him by the throat, shook him furiously and then beat him cruelly about the face and head. He only ceased when a sudden paroxysm of epilepsy superinduced by his frantic rage laid him stiff and gasping upon the deck.
The boy, released from the grasp of his tormentor, stood rubbing his bruised face and watching the writhing thing upon the deck planking — the hideous thing that rolled with frothing mouth and upturned eyes. Then there broke upon his ears the same deep, moaning growl that h
e had heard before he gained the steamer’s deck, a noise that sent a little thrill through him.
Turning quickly toward the sound he saw a strange tawny creature within a cage close behind the cabin. The thing went upon all fours, pacing softly back and forth the length of its prison, with lowered head brushing the bars and gleaming yellow eyes glaring menacingly out upon the two whose disturbance it seemed to resent.
It was a young lion, a year old, or perhaps a trifle more. The boy immediately left the groveling man and walked toward the cage, attracted by this new and wonderful beast. He knew no fear, for with the blow that he had received upon his head all memory had gone — even that which is supposed to be inherited and which is sometimes called instinct. He did not know that the creature in the cage was a lion, or that the other upon the deck was a man, or that he himself was a boy. He had everything to learn, as though he had just been born.
He walked quite close to the cage. The lion stopped his restless pacing. The boy put his hand through the bars to touch the peculiar creature. Instinctively the great teeth were bared and the beast shrank back from the profaning touch of man, but still further the hand was insinuated into the cage. A puzzled expression expunged the ugly snarl from the young lion’s wrinkled face. He stood quite still as the soft hand of the youth touched his soft muzzle. The hand passed back and forth along the head, already showing indications of the massive lines that maturity would bring. Then the lion stepped close to the bars and with half-closed eyes purred contentedly as the boy rubbed and scratched his head and ears. That was the beginning of the strange friendship.
Presently the boy discovered a fragment of raw fish lying just outside the cage where the lion had dropped it during a recent meal. The pangs of hunger quickly asserted themselves at sight of the morsel, and dropping to his haunches the youth seized the unsavory thing and commenced to devour it ravenously, like a starved beast.
Delphi Collected Works of Edgar Rice Burroughs (Illustrated) (Series Four Book 26) Page 483