Once on a Time Part 28

"You were telling me about this army of hers," said Udo. "One of my ideas--I had a good many while I was--er--in retirement--was that she could establish the army properly at her own expense, and that she herself should be perpetual orderly-sergeant."

"Isn't that a nice thing to be?" asked Hyacinth innocently.

"It's a _horrible_ thing to be. Another of my ideas was that----"

The attendant came in again.

"Her ladys.h.i.+p is a little indisposed, and is staying in bed for the present."

"Oh! Did her ladys.h.i.+p say when she thought of getting up?"

"Her ladys.h.i.+p didn't seem to think of getting up at all to-day. Her ladys.h.i.+p told me to say that she didn't seem to know _when_ she'd get up again."

The attendant withdrew, and Hyacinth and Udo, standing together in a corner, discussed the matter anxiously.

"I don't quite see what we can _do_," said Hyacinth. "We can't _pull_ her out of bed. Besides, she may really be ill. Supposing she stays there for ever!"

"Of course," said Udo. "It would be rather----"

"You see if we----"

"We might possibly----"

"_Good_ morning, all!" said Belvane, sweeping into the room. She dropped a profound curtsey to the Princess. "Your Royal Highness!

And dear Prince Udo, looking his own charming self again!"

She had made a superb toilet. In her flowing gold brocade, cut square in front to reveal the whitest of necks, with her black hair falling in two braids to her knees and twined with pearls which were caught up in loops at her waist, she looked indeed a Queen; while Hyacinth and Udo, taken utterly by surprise, seemed to be two conspirators whom she had caught in the act of plotting against her.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _"Good morning," said Belvane_]

"I--I thought you weren't well, Countess," said Hyacinth, trying to recover herself.

"I not well?" cried Belvane, clasping her hands to her breast. "I thought it was his Royal Highness who---- Ah, but he's looking a true Prince now."

She turned her eyes upon him, and there was in that look so much of admiration, humour, appeal, impudence--I don't know what (and Roger cannot tell us, either)--that Udo forgot entirely what he was going to say and could only gaze at her in wonder.

Her mere entry dazzled him. There is no knowing with a woman like Belvane; and I believe she had purposely kept herself plain during these last few days so that she might have the weapon of her beauty to fall back upon in case anything went wrong. Things had indeed gone wrong; Udo had become a man again; and it was against the man that this last weapon was directed.

Udo himself was only too ready. The fact that he was once more attractive to women meant as much as anything to him. To have been attractive to Hyacinth would have contented most of us, but Udo felt a little uncomfortable with her. He could not forget the last few days, nor the fact that he had once been an object of pity to her. Now Belvane had not pitied him.

Hyacinth had got control of herself by this time.

"Enough of this, Countess," she said with dignity. "We have not forgotten the treason which you were plotting against the State; we have not forgotten your base attack upon our guest, Prince Udo. I order you now to remain within the confines of the Palace until we shall have decided what to do with you. You may leave us."

Belvane dropped her eyes meekly.

"I am at your Royal Highness's commands. I shall be in my garden when your Royal Highness wants me."

She raised her eyes, gave one fleeting glance to Prince Udo, and withdrew.

"A hateful woman," said Hyacinth. "What shall we do with her?"

"I think," said Udo, "that I had better speak to her seriously first.

I have no doubt that I can drag from her the truth of her conspiracy against you. There may be others in it, in which case we shall have to proceed with caution; on the other hand, it may be just misplaced zeal on her part, in which case----"

"Was it misplaced zeal which made her turn you into a----?"

Udo held up his hand hastily.

"I have not forgotten that," he said. "Be sure that I shall exact full reparation. Let me see; _which_ is the way to her garden?"

Hyacinth did not know quite what to make of her guest. At the moment when she first saw him in his proper form the improvement on his late appearance had been so marked that he had seemed almost the handsome young Prince of her dreams. Every minute after that had detracted from him. His face was too heavy, his manner was too pompous; one of these days he would be too fat.

Moreover he was just a little too sure of his position in her house.

She had wanted his help, but she did not want so much of it as she seemed to be likely to get.

Udo, feeling that it was going to be rather a nice day, went into Belvane's garden. He had been there once before; it seemed to him a very much prettier garden this morning, and the woman who was again awaiting him much more desirable.

Belvane made room for him on the seat next to her.

"This is where I sit when I write my poetry," she said. "I don't know if your Royal Highness is fond of poetry?"

"Extremely," said Udo. "I have never actually written any or indeed read much, but I have a great admiration for those who--er--admire it.

But it was not to talk about poetry that I came out here, Countess."

"No?" said Belvane. "But your Royal Highness must have read the works of Sacharino, the famous bard of Araby?"

"Sacharino, of course. 'Blood for something, something----He who something----' I mean, it's a delightful little thing. Everybody knows it. But it was to talk about something very different that I----"

"_Blood for blood and shoon for shoon,_ _He who runs may read my rune,_"

quoted Belvane softly. "It is perhaps Sacharino's most perfect gem."

"That's it," cried Udo excitedly. "I knew I knew it, if only I could----" He broke off suddenly, remembering the circ.u.mstances in which he had wanted it. He coughed importantly and explained for the third time that he had not come to talk to her about poetry.

"But of course I think his most n.o.ble poem of all," went on Belvane, apparently misunderstanding him, "is the ode to your Royal Highness upon your coming-of-age. Let me see, how does it begin?

"_Prince Udo, so das.h.i.+ng and bold,_ _Is apparently eighteen years old._ _It is eighteen years since_ _This wonderful Prince_ _Was born in the Palace, I'm told._"

"These Court Poets," said Udo, with an air of unconcern, "flatter one, of course."

If he expected a compliment he was disappointed.

"There I cannot judge," said Belvane, "until I know your Royal Highness better." She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes.

"Is your Royal Highness very--das.h.i.+ng?"

"I--er--well--er--one--that is to say." He waded on uncomfortably, feeling less das.h.i.+ng every moment. He should have realised at once that it was an impossible question to answer.

"Your Royal Highness," said Belvane modestly, "must not be too das.h.i.+ng with us poor Euralians."