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THE riots in London culminated in an episode so cataclysmic that itsobered the civilised world. Young Lord Marque, replying to a question inthe House of Lords, said: "As long as the British peerage can summonmuscular vigour sufficient to keep a monocle in its eye and extractsatisfaction from a cigarette, no human woman in the British Empire shallever cast a bally ballot for any bally purpose whatever. What!"
And the House of Lords rose to its wavering legs and cheered him with anenthusiasm almost loud enough to be heard above ordinary conversation.
But that unwise and youthful and masculine defiance was the young man'sswan-song. A male suffragette rushed with the news to Miss PondoraBottomly; Lord Marque was followed as he left the house; and that veryafternoon he was observed fleeing in a series of startled and gracefulbounds through Regent Park, closely pursued by several ladies of birth,maturity, and fashion carrying solid silver hair-brushes.
_The Queen_, chronicling the somewhat intimate and exclusive affair aweek later, mentioned that: "Among those present was the lovely LadyDiana Guernsey wearing tweeds, leather spats, and waving a DirectoireBanner embroidered with the popular device, 'Votes for Women,' in brightyellow and bottle green on an old rose ground;" and that she had faroutdistanced the aged Marchioness of Dingledell, Lady Spatterdash, theHon. Miss Mousely, the Duchess of Rolinstone, Baroness Mosscroppe, andothers; and that, when last seen, she and the Earl of Marque were headedwestward. A week later no news of either pursuer or pursued having beenreceived, considerable uneasiness was manifested in court and suffragettecircles, and it was freely rumoured that Lady Guernsey had made a ratherrash but thoroughly characteristic vow that she would never relinquishthe trail until she had forced Lord Marque to eat his own words, writtenin frosting upon a plum cake of her own manufacture.
Marque may have heard of this vow, and perhaps entertained lively doubtsconcerning Lady Diana's abilities as a pastry cook. At any rate, he keptstraight on westward in a series of kangaroo-like leaps until darknessmercifully blotted out the picture.
Remaining in hiding under a hedge long enough to realise that London wasextremely unsafe for him, he decided to continue west as far as theUnited States, consoling himself with the certainty that his creditorswould have forced his emigration anyway before very long, and that hemight as well take the present opportunity to pick out his dollarprincess while in exile.
But circumstances altered his views; the great popular feminine upheavalin America was now in full swing; the eugenic principle had beendeclared; all human infirmity and degenerate imperfections were to beabolished through marriages based no longer upon sentiment and personalinclination, but upon the scientific selection of mates for the purposeof establishing the ideally flawless human race.
This was a pretty bad business for Lord Marque. The day after his arrivalhe was a witness of the suffragette riots when the Mayor, the Governor,and every symmetrical city, county, and State official was captured andled blushing to the marriage license bureau. He had seen the terriblepanic in Long Acre, where thousands of handsome young men were beingchased in every direction by beautiful and swift-footed suffragettes.From his window in the Hotel Astor he had gazed with horror upon thisbachelors' St. Bartholomew, and, distracted, had retired under his bedfor the balance of the evening, almost losing consciousness when abell-hop knocked at his door with a supply of towels.
Only one thought comforted him; the ocean rolled majestically between theLady Diana, her pastry, and the last of the house of Marque.
Never should that terrible and athletic young woman discover hiswhereabouts if he had to remain away from London forever; never, neverwould he eat that pastry!
As he lay under his bed, stroking his short moustache and occasionallysneezing, he remembered with a shudder his flight from those solid silverhair-brushes through Regent's Park; he recalled how, behind him, longafter the heavier feminine aristocracy had given up the chase, oneyouthful, fleet, supple, and fearsome girl had hung to his trail--a tall,lithe, incarnation of her goddess namesake.
She had been too far away for him to distinguish her features; only inLiverpool, where one dark night he ventured out to buy a copy of the_Queen_ and eagerly read the details of the function, did he learn thename of his closest pursuer.
Later, furtively haunting the smoking room on the _Caramania_, he learnedfrom the gossip there of Lady Diana's vow that she would never rest untilLord Marque had eaten her plum cake with its frosted inscription--thisinscription consisting of the flippant words of his own rash speechdelivered in the upper house of Parliament.
Now, lying on his back under the bed, while outside in Long Acre thedreadful work was going on, he lighted a cigarette and pondered thesituation. He didn't believe that Lady Diana would attempt to trail himto America. That was one comfort. But, in view of the suffragettedisturbances going on outside his windows, he saw little prospect of adollar princess for the present. Meanwhile, how was he to exist?
The vague and British convictions concerning the rapid accumulation ofwealth on a "ranch" of any kind comforted Marque. He also believed them.
And three months later he had managed to survive a personal acquaintancewith the following episodes:
First, one large revolver bullet through hat with request to answeraffably when addressed by white men.
Second, one infuriated cow.
Third, one indigestion incubated by cumulative series of pie andcomplicated by attentions from one large centipede.
Fourth, one contusion from a Montana boot with suggestion concerningmonocle.
Fifth, one 45-70 Winchester projectile severing string of monocle,accompanied by laughter and Navajo blanket.
Sixth, comprehensive corporal casualties incident upon internationalaltercation concerning relative importance of Guy Fawkes and July 4th.
Seventh, physical debility due to excessive local popularity followingpersonal encounter with one rustler.
Eighth, complete prostration in consequence of frequent attempts torender thanks for toasts offered him at banquet in celebration of hisimpending departure for the East.
Ninth, general collapse following bump of coal and forcible ejection fromfreight train near Albany, New York.
The Gay Rebellion Page 11
