Mistress Nell Part 20

"Yes, which did you expect, Sire?" laughed Nell.

"Oh, my head," groaned Charles; "well, well,--you see--d.u.c.h.ess, the matter lies in this wise--"

"Let me help your Majesty," generously interrupted Nell. "Her ladys.h.i.+p is ill at figures. You see, Charles and I are one, and you make two, d.u.c.h.ess."

"I spoke to the King," haughtily replied the d.u.c.h.ess, not deigning to glance at Nell.

The King placed his hands upon his forehead in bewilderment.

"This is a question for the Prime Minister and sages of the realm in council."

"There are but two chairs, Sire," continued Portsmouth, coldly.

"Two chairs!" exclaimed the Merry Monarch, aghast, as he saw the breach hopelessly widening. "I am lost."

"That is serious, Sire," said Nell, sadly; and then her eye twinkled as she suggested, "but perhaps we might make out with one, for the d.u.c.h.ess's sake. I am so little."

She turned her head and laughed gaily, while she watched the d.u.c.h.ess's face out of the corner of her eye.

"'Sheart," sighed the King, "I have construed grave controversies of state in my time, but ne'er drew the line yet betwixt black eyes and blue, brunette and blonde, when both were present. Another chair, landlord! Come, my sweethearts; eat, drink and forget."

The King threw himself carelessly into a chair in the hope that, in meat and drink, he might find peace.

"Aye," acquiesced Nell, who was already at work, irrespective of ceremony, "eat, drink and forget! I prefer to quarrel after supper."

"I do not," said the d.u.c.h.ess, who still stood indignant in the centre of the room.

Nell could scarce speak, for her mouthful; but she replied gaily, with a French shrug, in imitation of the d.u.c.h.ess:

"Oh, very well! I have a solution. Let's play sphinx, Sire."

Charles looked up hopefully.

"Anything for peace," he exclaimed. "How is't?"

"Why," explained Nell, with the philosophical air of a learned doctor, "some years before you and I thought much about the ways and means of this wicked world, your Majesty, the Sphinx spent her leisure asking people riddles; and if they could not answer, she ate them alive. Give me some of that turbot. Don't stand on ceremony, Sire; for the d.u.c.h.ess is waiting."

The King hastened to refill Nell's plate.

"Thank you," laughed the vixen; "that will do for now. Let the d.u.c.h.ess propound a riddle from the depths of her subtle brain; and if I do not fathom it upon the instant, Sire, 't is the d.u.c.h.ess's--not Nell's--evening with the King."

"Odsfish, a great stake!" cried Charles. He arose with a serio-comic air, much pleased at the turn things were taking.

"Don't be too confident, madame," ironically suggested the d.u.c.h.ess; "you are cleverer in making riddles than in solving them."

As she spoke, the room was suddenly filled with savoury odour. The moon-faced landlord had again appeared, flouris.h.i.+ng a platter containing two finely roasted chickens. His face glowed with pride and ale.

"The court's famished," exclaimed Charles, as he greeted the inn-keeper; "proceed!"

"Two capons! I have it," triumphantly thought Portsmouth, as she reflected upon a riddle she had once heard in far-off France. It could not be known in England. Nothing so clever could be known in England.

She looked contemptuously at Nell, and then at the two chickens, as she propounded it.

"Let your wits find then three capons on this plate."

"Three chickens!" cried Charles, in wonderment, closely scrutinizing the two fowl upon the plate and then looking up inquiringly at the d.u.c.h.ess.

"There are but two."

Nell only gurgled.

"Another gla.s.s, landlord, and I'll see four," she said. "Here's to you two, and to me too." She drank gaily to her toast.

"That is not the answer, madame," coldly retorted the d.u.c.h.ess.

"Are we come to blows over two innocent chickens?" asked Charles, somewhat concerned still for the outcome. "Bring on your witnesses."

"This is one chicken, your Majesty," declared the d.u.c.h.ess. "Another's two; and two and one make three."

With much formality and something of the air of a conjurer, she counted the first chicken and the second chicken and then recounted the first chicken, in such a way as to make it appear that there were three birds in all.

The King, who was ill at figures, like all true spendthrifts, sat confused by her speech. Nell laughed again. The landlord, who was in and out, stopped long enough to enter upon his bill, in rambling characters, "3 chickens." This was all his dull ear had comprehended. He then piously proceeded on his way.

"Gadso!" exclaimed the King, woefully. "It is too much for me."

"Pooh, pooh, 'tis too simple for you, Sire," laughed Nell. "I solved it when a child. Here is my bird; and here is your bird; and our dearest d.u.c.h.ess shall sup on her third bird!"

Nell quickly spitted one chicken upon a huge fork and so removed it to her own plate. The second chicken, she likewise conveyed to his Majesty's. Then, with all the politeness which she only could summon, she bowed low and offered the empty platter to the d.u.c.h.ess.

Portsmouth struck it to the board angrily with her gloved hand and steadied herself against the table.

"Hussy!" she hissed, and forthwith pretended to grow faint.

Charles was at her elbow in an instant, supporting her.

"Oh,--Sire, I--" she continued, in her efforts to speak.

"What is it?" cried Charles, seriously, endeavouring to a.s.sist her. "You are pale, Louise."

"I am faint," replied she, with much difficulty. "Pardon my longer audience, Sire; I am not well. _Garcon_, my chair. a.s.sist me to the door."

The fat landlord made a hasty exit, for him, toward the street, in his desire to help the great lady. Charles supported her to the threshold.

"Call a leech, Sire," cried Nell after them, with mock sympathy. "Her grace has choked on a chicken-bone."

"Be still, wench," commanded the King. "Do not leave us, Louise; it breaks the sport."

"Nay," pleaded Nell also, "do not go because of this little merry-making, d.u.c.h.ess. I desire we may become better friends."

Her voice revived the d.u.c.h.ess.

"_Sans doute_, we shall, madame," Portsmouth replied, coldly. "_a mon bal! Pas adieu, mais au revoir_."