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A Queen's Error

Page 11

by Henry Curties


  CHAPTER XI

  THE OCEANA

  Very thankful were my two cousins and I when we got clear of the fogsof the Mersey and were fairly out at sea. Not that we were badsailors. We did not proclaim that we were, at any rate, though I willadmit that for the first two days I found my comfortable brass bedsteada resting-place much more to my liking than a seat at the dinner-table,although I duly turned up there for the sake of appearances. Duringthis period of seclusion I thought deeply of the latest attempt of myenemies to secure the casket, and it caused me great uneasiness. Icould not imagine how they knew that I should go to my lawyers for it.

  Ethel made a brave show, but it was quite the third day out fromLiverpool before I saw her smile as I wished to see her smile--withouta mental reservation, in fact.

  St. Nivel was really the only perfectly unconcerned member of ourparty, and it was through his persevering attendances on the promenadedeck, that I became acquainted with a young lady who will figurelargely in these pages, although she in reality was by no means ofcommanding stature, but one of those charming petite persons whosemission in life appears to be to exemplify what extraordinarily choicepieces of human goods can be made up in small parcels.

  It was on the fourth day out that I became acquainted with Doloresd'Alta. While I had been lying disconsolately on my cot, St. Nivel hadbeen improving the shining hour by looking after Miss Dolores, who hadtaken up her position, during the first few days of her trial, in asheltered position on the promenade deck, in preference to her "stuffycabin," as she called her state room.

  It had been the pleasure, and had become the duty--a self-imposedone--of St. Nivel to see that she was properly wrapped up.

  She did not object to smoke either, having, as she stated, been broughtup in an atmosphere of smoke at home. Therefore Jack smoked his cigar.

  Had I not known that St. Nivel's inclinations were apparently fixed inthe direction of bachelorhood, I should have thought he had fallen inlove; but I discovered later that he had, to use an expression of hisown, "simply taken on another pal." He found her a congenial person inwhose society to smoke cigars. But if he had fallen in love, certainlyhe would have had a most excellent excuse for doing so.

  A daintier little specimen of Southern beauty it would have beendifficult to imagine than this little Aquazilian aristocrat. Todescribe her in a few words, she was a beautiful woman in miniature;she was the most perfectly symmetrical little piece of womanhood that Ihad ever set eyes upon.

  A perfectly clear, creamy complexion, yet not without colour of a rosetint; dimples in the cheeks, which were ravishing when she smiled,--andshe was very fond of smiling, ay, and laughing too, and showing themost perfect set of white teeth,--black hair, and very dark blue eyes;and there you have her. United to this beauty of person was a mostfascinating natural manner; not the manner of a flirt, but that of alight-hearted, pure-minded girl, as gay as a lark released fromcaptivity, and not unlike it in its new freedom, for she had notescaped from a first-rate finishing school in Paris more than sixmonths.

  She had spent the intervening period under the care of a sister of herfather who had married an Englishman and who lived in good society.

  She had had a season in London and had spent the autumn in a round ofcountry visits which accounted for her wonderful _savoir faire_; shewas only eighteen. Now she was going home to her dear father, awidower, under the care of her aunt. Hearing her always referred to inconversation as "Dolores," her surname was a revelation when I heard itproperly pronounced. St. Nivel's idea of foreign names was exceedinglyhazy and misleading. As soon as she told me she was going home toAquazilia, I became very alert and began to ask her questions.

  "Yes," she replied to my query concerning her parent's name, "my fatheris the Senor Don Juan d'Alta; in the old time of our monarchy he wasfor many years the Prime Minister. He is a very old man is my father,"she further explained; "he is nearly seventy!"

  Looking at her I could understand the old man simply making an idol ofthis his only child. It appeared to me very marvellous that I shouldhave met her.

  Some of the other passengers told me that he was a member of one of theoldest and most aristocratic families in the country.

  It was very lovely as we steamed farther and farther away from our owncold fogs and got into the warmth of the south; very fascinating towalk on deck with Dolores and talk, under the brilliant stars, ofAquazilia and the extraordinary chance which had made us meet on boardboth with the same destination in view--the house of her father.

  "I don't think, though, it is so strange," she confided to me onelovely moonlight night when we were walking the promenade deck side byside; "it is not an unreasonable thing that we should have taken thesame boat, considering that they only run once a fortnight."

  "It is certainly not unreasonable," I answered, with a look into hereyes. "It is the most reasonable chance that I have ever come acrossin the whole of my life!"

  "Why?" she answered, with a look of mischief in her dark blue eyes.

  "Because," I answered fervently, with a little tremor in my voice, "ithas given me the chance of spending three weeks near you!

  "Let us go and look at the flying fish," she answered hastily, tochange the conversation. "I do so love to see them."

  Yes, I was daily becoming more and more attached to her; for the firsttime in my long career of flirtation I was beginning to find out whatlove _really_ meant.

  I was falling in love with a little divinity twelve years my junior,and from the depths of my knowledge I expected she would very justlymake a fool of me--not intentionally, perhaps, but in effect thesame--and laugh at me for my pains.

  It seemed very bitter to think of as I saw her walking--and laughingand talking too--with St. Nivel who was six years my junior. It seemedto me, in my growing jealousy, an ideal match for her.

  I forgot that young ladies never fall in love with the persons they areexpected to, but invariably go off on an unknown tangent of their own,in obedience to the same law of Nature, perhaps, which causes anunusually tall girl to lose her heart to a very diminutive--thoughgenerally very consequential--little man.

  In the contemplation of the varied charms of Dolores d'Alta, I almostforgot my precious casket, confided in fear and trembling to the careof the captain, and locked up by him in the ship's strong room in mypresence and in the presence of St. Nivel.

  In due course we came to Coruna, or Corunna as we more commonly callit, and there I had the delight of strolling about the oldfortifications all alone with Dolores and showing her the tomb of SirJohn Moore, while St. Nivel obligingly took charge of her aunt, andsolicitously kept her out of earshot. The old lady had lived longenough in England to appreciate the attentions of a lord, and he a richone, without designs on her niece's fortune.

  Yes, that fortune was my stumbling-block; I learned of it from old SirRupert Frampton, our minister to Aquazilia, who was travelling back tohis post on the _Oceana_.

  "I really don't suppose," he said, one evening in the smoking-room,nodding his head sententiously, "that old Don Juan d'Alta knows what heis worth; neither do I suppose that he cares much, for he is a man ofthe simplest tastes, living on the plainest food, and having but onehobby and object, in fact, in life."

  "His daughter?" I suggested at once, Dolores, of course, being theuppermost thought in my mind.

  "No," replied the old gentleman crisply, with the smartness of the_diplomat_; "reptiles!"

  "Reptiles!" I exclaimed in disgust; "what reptiles?"

  "Principally snakes," replied the old man, shifting his cigar in hismouth; "he has a regular Zoological Gardens full of them--all kinds,from boa-constrictors to adders. He makes pets of them."

  "Not about the _house_?" I suggested.

  "No, not exactly," Sir Rupert replied, "unless they stray in bythemselves. He's very eccentric and I don't think has been quitehimself since the queen abdicated. They say he was in love with her,notwithstanding the fact that she was a confirmed old mai
d."

  "Indeed," I replied, curious to keep the old man talking, for I wasdesirous of hearing as much as I possibly could about Aquazilia and itscapital, Valoro, "it sounds quite romantic."

  "Well, it _was_ romantic in a way," he proceeded, glad to have alistener, as old men are; "there's always a certain amount of romanceabout the court of a reigning queen. Of course you know that the Saliclaw did not prevail in the kingdom of Aquazilia when it _was_ akingdom. Yes, it was a splendid court was that of Valoro when HerMajesty Inez the Second reigned over it. I just remember itthirty-five years ago when I went out to it as a young attache on oneof my first appointments and took such a fancy to the lovely country."

  "Then it _is_ lovely," I ventured; "the reports of it are notexaggerations?"

  Old Sir Rupert replied almost with emotion--

  "It is superb. It is the loveliest country in the world!"

  "In those days I am speaking of," he proceeded, "Valoro was a placeworth living in. In many respects it outshone some of the courts ofEurope, with which, by the bye, it was in close contact. Queen Inez,as you no doubt know, was a Princess of Istria; the royal line ofAquazilia was simply a collateral branch of the great Imperial House ofDolphberg. And there were those that said that Queen Inez despite allher resistance of the many endeavours to induce her to enter themarried state--and her offers had been abundant--was not only a queenand a rich one, but she was also a very beautiful woman."

  "Your account of Queen Inez, Sir Rupert, is absolutely fascinating," Isaid. "I am almost inclined to fall in love with her. Where is shenow?"

  The old man paused and a sad look came over his face.

  "She is dead, poor woman," he answered sadly; "they say she died of abroken heart."

  "At losing the throne?" I queried.

  "I don't know, I'm sure," he said slowly, throwing away the end of hiscigar. "Some say she was glad to get rid of the responsibilities ofit, and quite content to retire to a castle she had in Switzerland notfar from the Lake of Lucerne. She was a woman of very simple tastes."

  "It seems a pity she did not marry," I suggested, "as far as one canjudge."

  "Well, it is highly probable," he answered, "that she would not havelost her throne if she had had a husband to stand up for her. She wasno match for Razzaro."

  "Who was Razzaro?" I asked.

  "Well, he was the sort of adventurer," the old diplomat answered, "thatSouth America seems especially to breed. He was a man of great talentsand abandoned to unscrupulousness. I believe he would have sold hisown mother, if he could have got a good bid, and would have haggledwith the purchaser whether the price was to include the clothes shestood in."

  "A thoroughly honourable, straightforward gentleman," I suggestedironically. "I can imagine a lady such as you describe Queen Inez tohave been being peculiarly unfitted to deal with such a man!"

  "Yes," agreed Sir Rupert; "and her Prime Minister, or Chancellor asthey called him, Don Juan d'Alta, was not much better. He had themisfortune to possess the nature of a modern Bayard, and believed ineverybody, until he found out too late that he had been deceived. Thatis how Queen Inez lost her throne. Razzaro was slowly but surelysapping the Royal power for years, right under d'Alta's nose, and henever really found it out until the whole country burst intorevolution."

  "What happened then?" I asked.

  "Nothing happened," replied Sir Rupert. "When the Queen discoveredthat the voice of the people was in favour of a Republic she simplyabdicated. She would not allow a drop of blood to be shed in herbehalf. An Istrian warship which had been waiting for her at the coasttook her to Europe with her devoted lady-in-waiting, the Baronessd'Altenberg."

  "D'Altenberg," I muttered; "where have heard that name?"

  "It was a bloodless revolution."

  "And Razzaro triumphed?" I added aloud.

  "Yes; Razzaro triumphed," he replied; "and, as a matter of fact,thoroughly got hold of the popular favour. His son is President of theRepublic at the present moment. Old Razzaro made a sort of familyliving of the Presidency."

  "And Don Juan d'Alta retired into private life?" I ventured.

  "Into private life and the society of his reptiles," added the olddiplomatist, rising. "I think the latter have consoled him for manydisappointments."

  "Whom did he marry?" I asked.

  "A very beautiful French lady," he replied, "whose husband, a Frenchnobleman, had come to Aquazilia to try and make his fortune, and haddied in the effort."

  "Poor man!" I commented. "And Don Juan married his widow?"

  "Exactly; and this pretty little lady, Senorita Dolores, who isreturning to Valoro with us, is the result of the union. They say sheis the very image of her mother, who died when she was five."

  "Then the mother must have been very beautiful," was my comment.

  The old minister stopped and looked at me for some moments withoutsaying anything. Then, with a peculiar smile about the corners of hisgood-natured mouth, shook his head and went slowly out of thesmoking-room.

 

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