by M. P. Shiel
XL
THE WEDDING
By the time Frankl's three loaves had become one, that amazement withwhich men received the Manifesto had commenced to give place to morecoherent impressions.
He was not a "Monster"! that was the first realization--no pirate, norlurid Anti-Christ, nor vainglorious Caesar! And in two days, the firstastonishment over, there arose a noise in the world: for the Lord of theSea had given to the nations one month only in which to do that thing:and the peoples took passionately to meetings.
In England Land Leagues, Chambers of Agriculture, Restoration Leagues,Nationalization Leagues, many Leagues, were organizing furiously,stretching the right arm of oratory; deputations, petitions in wagons,demonstrations _en bloc_, party cannonades, racket heaven-high.Sir Moses Cohen, the Jew-Liberal Leader, appealing to the strongestprejudice in Englishmen, spoke one night at Newcastle of "theinterference of a foreign prince in the affairs of Britain"; used theword: "_Never!_", and on this cry secured an enormous following: sothat, within a week, he was instrumental in forming the formidableLeague of Resistance--destined to prove so tragic for Hogarth, and forEngland.
It was in the midst of this world-turmoil that--on the third day--themarriage-morning of Miss Cecil Stickney dawned; and that same eveningRebekah Frankl, convalescent from influenza, was seated over a bedroomfire in Hanover Square, a cashmire round her shoulders, her sicknesscured by herbs, her physician then hobbling with a stick down thestairs--Estrella of Lisbon--her back almost horizontal now with age.
And as Rebekah mused there, two newsboys below, whose shouts pursuedeach other, went proclaiming through November gloom as it were the dayof doom, crying, even in that uproar of Europe, a private event:
MARRIAGE OF
LORD ALFRED COWERN
AND MISS CECIL STICKNEY
APPALLING TRAGEDY
And soon a girl ran in, gasping: "Miss Frankl!--this is too awful--yourfather--"
The news, having been flashed to Paris by Mackay-Bennett cable, nowappeared in detail after the _New York Herald's_ French edition, andRebekah's eyes ran wildly over details as to the "bevy of beauty",daughters of "the Thirty-four", and the church of waiting ladies, thecarpeted path between palms and exotics, and how the ticket-holdersheard the organ tell the Cantilenet Nuptiale and Bennett's Minuet; andthen the multitudinous stir: behold the bridegroom cometh!--the littlenecessary bridegroom of no importance, and then the white entry of brideand bridal train, while the choir knelt to sing "O Perfect Love".
Perfect love, however, was hardly the order of that day, but ratherperfect hate: for in Madison Square--the church being at the upper endof Fifth Avenue--a mob was being harangued on the subject of this verywedding: and when they heard and realized the thing that was being donebefore their eyes they were swept as by a wind of fire, and under itsimpulse set out like some swollen Rhone with a rushing sound to pounceupon the church, full of perfect hate: and the choir sang "O perfectlove".
What happened now was described as a nightmare. The same elementalinstincts of the Stone Age which had exhibited themselves in the$500-worth of food wrought in another form, but with no less savagery,in assassins as in victims: and a massacre ensued, bride and bridegroompassing away like bubbles, of "the Thirty-four" five only escaping. Thereport ended with the words: "The ringleaders have been arrested; quietreigns through the city"; then a list of the guests, with asterisksindicating those killed.
Rebekah searched for her father's name, and when she became certain thatit was not there, her lips moved in thanksgiving.
But since Frankl was not at the wedding, where, then, was Frankl? Shecounted the days on her fingers: he could not have been late.
Unless there had been an accident to his ship....
Her brows knit a little; she peered into the fire: and thought of the_Boodah_....
It was possible that when her father's steamer stopped to pay sea-rent,Hogarth might have heard, and seized him. That notion occurred to her.
And at once it threw her into an extraordinary fever, her bosom swellinglike elastic in her heavings to catch breath, though she did not realizethe wild thought that was working up to birth within her. She rose andpaced, furiously fast.
If he was in the hands of Hogarth?
"He is a British subject", she muttered: "Hogarth has not theright...Oh, he has not the right...!"
She was fearfully agitated! something fighting up and up within her,stifling her, working to burst into birth; she flung the cashmirefrom her shoulders, her bosom rowing like two oarsmen. "Because we areJews...!" she went.
"If he _dared_ do that--!"
What then? Say! Rebekah!
"I would go to him myself--"
All at once that thought was born, and she stood shockingly naked toher own eyes, her hands rushing to cover a face washed in shame. "But,surely", she whispered, "I could never be so _bold_, good Heavens? Why,Never! Never--!"
However, an hour later, with flaming eyes, she was writing a letter toFrankl's manager.
