Latitude 19 degree Part 60

Christophe held the circle up to the mult.i.tude.

"It is the ring that my favourite gave to me," he said, "my favourite Mauresco, before he disappeared forever."

"That Mauresco fellow seemed to be a fascinating sort of chap," said the Smith, who had edged near me, in an undertone. "I understand all he says, but I think it is better to keep that fact quiet."

"I have already given you time enough," said the King. "Remove the prisoner! Throw him at once off the Grand Boucan!"

I arose. "Stop!" said I, "if it please your Majesty. I come of a family who deal in magic. To make a ring like that is simple work. I will promise to make you one if you will in turn deign to pardon the prisoners who have offended you."

When the interpreter had repeated my speech to Christophe, he turned on me with an incredulous air.

"That offer has been often made," he said, "but no one has ever performed it. Mauresco, my prime minister, my counsellor, the Grand Papaloi of the North, had given me a ring, but I have lost it. The one that he wore he carried away. I am wearing a poor imitation. It was cunningly artificed by skilful hands. Can you reproduce it?"

I felt the cold snake ring dangling against my bosom as I spoke.

Christophe gazed at me with curiosity.

"Say to the King," said I, "that a bargain must be made. If I succeed in pleasing him with the symbol that I shall make, he in turn must promise to send me with my friends to the coast, where a s.h.i.+p will come for us to take us back to our good and great country."

The King thought a moment. He smiled his diabolical smile. He nodded his head several times and spoke to the interpreter.

"Tell him," he said, "that I am quite willing to make the promise. They have all failed me, but the Grand Boucan never fails me."

"I shall not fail," said I.

I asked leave to take the symbol in my hands. The King beckoned me to approach. When I was close to the dais he held out the ring to me, but he did not give it into my hand. I looked at it with much curiosity.

"May I take the circle in my hand?" I asked the interpreter. The interpreter in turn asked the King. Christophe hesitated; then he gave a reluctant nod. I took the great ring from the hand of the King. I examined it curiously, and shook my head with a contemptuous air. The workmans.h.i.+p was crude. It did not compare in any way with the circle that thumped against my bosom. I gave the King's ring back to him with a smile of superiority.

"How is it possible," asked I of the interpreter, "that a great monarch like King Henry the First is willing to wear a thing of such unskilled workmans.h.i.+p?"

A look of almost mortification overspread the face of the King as these words were translated to him.

"Explain!" said he to the interpreter.

"The King's favourite, Mauresco," said the interpreter, "presented the King with a ring. It was a wonderful circle of magic. Its properties were supernatural. Mauresco had brought it from the far East. Its design was that of the serpent and the goat's head, much as you see it here in the imitation. While Mauresco was here he wore a poor imitation of the symbol, something like the one which the King wears on his thumb to-day. The original ring was all-powerful. The King carried all before him. When he wore that sacred circle he was victorious in battle. The tribes of the island flocked to his standard, his generals were faithful. But one day Mauresco was missing and the sacred circle of magic had changed to what you see it."

Finding that Christophe's fortunes were on the wane, he deserted him, thought I. Got tired of black royalty, and went to join the pirates.

Took the original and left the poor copy to console the King. Ah!

Mauresco, had I known that you were so clever a villain, perhaps I might have spared your life just for admiration of you! Perhaps I, too, would have come under your ban, and have been your willing servant like the rest of them. So you took the original, did you, Mr. Grand Papaloi Mauresco, and you dropped it on the seash.o.r.e, and some one whom I know found it? And the symbol has supernatural or magic properties, has it?

Very well, then! It is I who possess that original. Now we will see what this magic symbol will do for me and for her who found it. The King sat looking inquiringly at me.

"I can reproduce the ring," said I. "Not this parody on the original, but one so near the original that the King shall not know them apart." I returned to my seat without further explanation.

"Are there any more prisoners to come before me?" shouted Christophe.

But just here I heard feminine voices, and along the terrace I saw advancing three women. I saw that one was white, the other two of darker hue. They were all three dressed in flowing robes of white, and looked as cool as possible compared with the people surrounding the throne. At a little distance behind the three came several women who appeared like serving maids. I wondered who this white maiden could be. Her fair skin shone out in contrast to that of the dark women with whom she walked.

The two girls had entwined their arms around the white girl, but it seemed to me that the latter shrank somewhat from their caresses. A few steps nearer they came, and all at once I discovered that the white girl was Cynthia. Somehow I had never thought of her in anything but that old blue dungaree dress. As they approached I saw that she was as well clad as the maidens with whom she walked, only that the two girls wore quant.i.ties of jewellery, but Cynthia wore only the fine flowing robe, cool and spotless. I looked for Lacelle, but I did not see her. Just here, as we were watching their approach, there came an interruption. I heard from overhead a strange but familiar voice. I arose at once and approached Cynthia. The voice had given me an idea. I bowed low before her, and as I did so I contrived to whisper:

"Did you hear that voice? Turn it to use, I will give you the key." And then as I raised my head there came again the words, "There's no fool like an old fool." I glanced upward to the low roof, and there sat Solomon in all his glory. "d.a.m.n the Britishers!" said Solomon. I now took Cynthia by the hand and approached the throne.

"Your Majesty," said I, "let me present to you my sister, who has been through all the trials and troubles that have overtaken us. She is an adept in the sort of magic that we know in our northern home. She is a peculiar favourite with birds and animals." I might have added, "With the greatest brutes of all, men," but I desisted.

Christophe smiled, as much at his favourite daughter as at what I had said. The dusky maidens approached and seated themselves on the steps of the throne and drew Cynthia down beside them. I mumbled a few words so low that the interpreter could not distinguish them.

"Thank G.o.d, you are safe!" said I. "Call the parrot, and pretend you never saw him before."

And then aloud:

"Let my sister try her power, your Majesty, on some animal here. A dog, perhaps, or a horse, or, oh!"--perceiving the parrot for the first time--"there is a strange bird. She may as well take him as an instance.

Call the bird!" said I to Cynthia.

She readily comprehended me. She arose from the low seat and walked a little way out to the edge of the tree.

She held her fingers out to the bird and called in her peculiarly sweet cooing voice. Solomon looked at her for a moment with his head on one side, and then flew straight toward her: But that was not the worst of it. About six or eight other parrots flew down also from the roof, and not only Solomon but all of the number were calling and screaming raucously, "d.a.m.n the Britishers!" and "There's no fool like an old fool!" Solomon, who had flown straight to Cynthia, began to walk over her shoulder and climb up and down her dress, and, strange to say, the other birds, seeing the confidence with which Solomon accomplished his supposed introduction, followed suit, so that Cynthia had them billing and cooing in her ears, putting up their beaks to be kissed, calling, "Kiss me!" or declaring that there was no fool like an old fool, until the clamour was deafening. Cynthia was as much astonished as the rest of us, but she carried out my project with great cleverness. It is astonis.h.i.+ng what Solomon had taught those birds while he had been among them. I laughed heartily to hear them say again and again, singly and in concert, "d.a.m.n the Britishers!" Even the King smiled.

"They are most kind to me," said Cynthia to me hurriedly; "only I'm sorry you said I was your sister."

"Why?" said I.

"Oh, I fear complications. The other would have been better, I think."

The King now arose and motioned us all away. When the Bo's'n pa.s.sed me I saw that he had one of those sudden attacks which were unpleasant, ludicrous, but far from dangerous. He did look absurd with his cheek sticking out like a hickory nut, in fact, like two or three, and I could not help laughing. The King was angry at my laughing in his presence, and, to calm him, I was forced to ask him through the interpreter to recall the Bo's'n. As soon as his eyes fell upon the man he laughed harder than I had done. To see Christophe laugh was something worth living for. His great features twisted into a thousand contortions, and I felt that not only did he enjoy the absurdity of the spectacle, but that it was a real pleasure to him to see the sufferings of a fellow-creature. I was sorry for my part in this performance, but what else could I do.

"No matter, Bo's'n," said I cheerfully, "you'll laugh at this yourself some day."

"You'll laugh the other side of your mouth, sir," mumbled the Bo's'n angrily, looking so comical that I laughed afresh. This seemed to put Christophe in a very good humour. To find me willing to laugh at suffering seemed to argue well for me, and he regarded me with some faint expression of esteem.

"You ought to be satisfied if you are as well off as I can make you.

There are a good many of us, but I intend that we shall share as much alike as your stupidity will allow," said I to the Bo's'n.

"You'll be sorry if you do," said the Bo's'n gloomily.

I found it difficult to understand him, he spoke so indistinctly, so I told him that I would send word to the King that I should like some remedy for my suffering servant. The Bo's'n gave a gloomy shake of the head.

"Very well, sir," he said threateningly, "you'll be sorry, Mr. Jones, sir. Now, I tell you, you'll be sorry! You've ruined one good plan, for Heaven's sake don't put your finger too deep into another pie, sir."

But as I retired from the terrace, and told him that I thought the King was disposed to treat us kindly unless we offended him in some way, I added, "I will try to get a change of clothes for each of you."

"Thank you," answered the Smith; "I shall be glad of some."

"Won't have 'em, Mr. Jones, sir!" said the Bo's'n. "Won't have 'em, don't ask it of me! Not on no account."

"What nonsense!" said I. "Of course, you will have them."

"No, sir, don't ask me, please. You'll be sorry if you do, sir."

"You're a lunatic!" said I. "You must be made comfortable. I shall do what I think best," and I followed my guard. I found that I was not to return to the cells below the terrace. I was taken to a garden at the back of the palace and lodged in a room looking out upon the mountain.

Cynthia, with a lingering glance at me, had disappeared with the two daughters of Christophe, I knew not where.