The Lady of the Shroud - Bram Stoker (phonics reader txt) 📗

along, without giving myself away. As Teuta

had thought it better to keep silence as to Ernest’s affront, I felt

I must not acknowledge it; but, all the same, I determined to get rid

of him before the day was much older.

 

When I had had my breakfast I sent word to him by a servant that I

was coming to his rooms, and followed not long behind the messenger.

 

He was in a suit of silk pyjamas, such as not even Solomon in all his

glory was arrayed in. I closed the door behind me before I began to

speak. He listened, at first amazed, then disconcerted, then angry,

and then cowering down like a whipped hound. I felt that it was a

case for speaking out. A bumptious ass like him, who deliberately

insulted everyone he came across—for if all or any of his efforts in

that way were due to mere elemental ignorance he was not fit to live,

but should be silenced on sight as a modern Caliban—deserved neither

pity nor mercy. To extend to him fine feeling, tolerance, and such-like gentlenesses would be to deprive the world of them without

benefit to any. So well as I can remember, what I said was something

like this:

 

“Ernest, as you say, you’ve got to go, and to go quick, you

understand. I dare say you look on this as a land of barbarians, and

think that any of your high-toned refinements are thrown away on

people here. Well, perhaps it is so. Undoubtedly, the structure of

the country is rough; the mountains may only represent the glacial

epoch; but so far as I can gather from some of your exploits—for I

have only learned a small part as yet—you represent a period a good

deal farther back. You seem to have given our folk here an

exhibition of the playfulness of the hooligan of the Saurian stage of

development; but the Blue Mountains, rough as they are, have come up

out of the primeval slime, and even now the people aim at better

manners. They may be rough, primitive, barbarian, elemental, if you

will, but they are not low down enough to tolerate either your ethics

or your taste. My dear cousin, your life is not safe here! I am

told that yesterday, only for the restraint exercised by certain

offended mountaineers on other grounds than your own worth, you would

have been abbreviated by the head. Another day of your fascinating

presence would do away with this restraint, and then we should have a

scandal. I am a new-comer here myself—too new a comer to be able to

afford a scandal of that kind—and so I shall not delay your going.

Believe me, my dear cousin, Ernest Roger Halbard Melton, of Humcroft,

Salop, that I am inconsolable about your resolution of immediate

departure, but I cannot shut my eyes to its wisdom. At present the

matter is altogether amongst ourselves, and when you have gone—if it

be immediately—silence will be observed on all hands for the sake of

the house wherein you are a guest; but if there be time for scandal

to spread, you will be made, whether you be alive or dead, a European

laughing-stock. Accordingly, I have anticipated your wishes, and

have ordered a fast steam yacht to take you to Ancona, or to whatever

other port you may desire. The yacht will be under the command of

Captain Desmond, of one of our battleships—a most determined

officer, who will carry out any directions which may be given to him.

This will insure your safety so far as Italian territory. Some of

his officials will arrange a special carriage for you up to Flushing,

and a cabin on the steamer to Queenboro’. A man of mine will travel

on the train and steamer with you, and will see that whatever you may

wish in the way of food or comfort will be provided. Of course, you

understand, my dear cousin, that you are my guest until you arrive in

London. I have not asked Rooke to accompany you, as when he went to

meet you, it was a mistake. Indeed, there might have been a danger

to you which I never contemplated—a quite unnecessary danger, I

assure you. But happily Admiral Rooke, though a man of strong

passions, has wonderful self-control.”

 

“Admiral Rooke?” he queried. “Admiral?”

 

“Admiral, certainly,” I replied, “but not an ordinary Admiral—one of

many. He is THE Admiral—the Lord High Admiral of the Land of the

Blue Mountains, with sole control of its expanding navy. When such a

man is treated as a valet, there may be … But why go into this?

It is all over. I only mention it lest anything of a similar kind

should occur with Captain Desmond, who is a younger man, and

therefore with probably less self-repression.”

 

I saw that he had learned his lesson, and so said no more on the

subject.

 

There was another reason for his going which I did not speak of. Sir

Colin MacKelpie was coming with his clansmen, and I knew he did not

like Ernest Melton. I well remembered that episode of his offering

one finger to the old gentleman in Mr. Trent’s office, and, moreover,

I had my suspicions that Aunt Janet’s being upset was probably in

some measure due to some rudeness of his that she did not wish to

speak about. He is really an impossible young man, and is far better

out of this country than in it. If he remained here, there would be

some sort of a tragedy for certain.

 

I must say that it was with a feeling of considerable relief that I

saw the yacht steam out of the creek, with Captain Desmond on the

bridge and my cousin beside him.

 

Quite other were my feelings when, an hour after, The Lady came

flying into the creek with the Lord High Admiral on the bridge, and

beside him, more splendid and soldier-like than ever, Sir Colin

MacKelpie. Mr. Bingham Trent was also on the bridge.

 

The General was full of enthusiasm regarding his regiment, for in

all, those he brought with him and those finishing their training at

home, the force is near the number of a full regiment. When we were

alone he explained to me that all was arranged regarding the non-commissioned officers, but that he had held over the question of

officers until we should have had a suitable opportunity of talking

the matter over together. He explained to me his reasons, which were

certainly simple and cogent. Officers, according to him, are a

different class, and accustomed to a different standard altogether of

life and living, of duties and pleasures. They are harder to deal

with and more difficult to obtain. “There was no use,” he said, “in

getting a lot of failures, with old-crusted ways of their own

importance. We must have young men for our purpose—that is, men not

old, but with some experience—men, of course, who know how to behave

themselves, or else, from what little I have seen of the Blue

Mountaineers, they wouldn’t last long here if they went on as some of

them do elsewhere. I shall start things here as you wish me to, for

I am here, my dear boy, to stay with you and Janet, and we shall, if

it be given to us by the Almighty, help to build up together a new

‘nation’—an ally of Britain, who will stand at least as an outpost

of our own nation, and a guardian of our eastern road. When things

are organized here on the military side, and are going strong, I

shall, if you can spare me, run back to London for a few weeks.

Whilst I am there I shall pick up a lot of the sort of officers we

want. I know that there are loads of them to be had. I shall go

slowly, however, and carefully, too, and every man I bring back will

be recommended to me by some old soldier whom I know, and who knows

the man he recommends, and has seen him work. We shall have, I dare

say, an army for its size second to none in the world, and the day

may come when your old country will be proud of your new one. Now

I’m off to see that all is ready for my people—your people now.”

 

I had had arrangements made for the comfort of the clansmen and the

women, but I knew that the good old soldier would see for himself

that his men were to be comfortable. It was not for nothing that he

was—is—looked on as perhaps the General most beloved by his men in

the whole British Army.

 

When he had gone, and I was alone, Mr. Trent, who had evidently been

waiting for the opportunity, came to me. When we had spoken of my

marriage and of Teuta, who seems to have made an immense impression

on him, he said suddenly:

 

“I suppose we are quite alone, and that we shall not be interrupted?”

I summoned the man outside—there is always a sentry on guard outside

my door or near me, wherever I may be—and gave orders that I was not

to be disturbed until I gave fresh orders. “If,” I said, “there be

anything pressing or important, let the Voivodin or Miss MacKelpie

know. If either of them brings anyone to me, it will be all right.”

 

When we were quite alone Mr. Trent took a slip of paper and some

documents from the bag which was beside him. He then read out items

from the slip, placing as he did so the documents so checked over

before him.

 

1. New Will made on marriage, to be signed presently.

 

2. Copy of the Reconveyance of Vissarion estates to Peter

Vissarion, as directed by Will of Roger Melton.

 

3. Report of Correspondence with Privy Council, and proceedings

following.

 

Taking up the last named, he untied the red tape, and, holding the

bundle in his hand, went on:

 

“As you may, later on, wish to examine the details of the

Proceedings, I have copied out the various letters, the originals of

which are put safely away in my strong-room where, of course, they

are always available in case you may want them. For your present

information I shall give you a rough synopsis of the Proceedings,

referring where advisable to this paper.

 

“On receipt of your letter of instructions regarding the Consent of

the Privy Council to your changing your nationality in accordance

with the terms of Roger Melton’s Will, I put myself in communication

with the Clerk of the Privy Council, informing him of your wish to be

naturalized in due time to the Land of the Blue Mountains. After

some letters between us, I got a summons to attend a meeting of the

Council.

 

“I attended, as required, taking with me all necessary documents, and

such as I conceived might be advisable to produce, if wanted.

 

“The Lord President informed me that the present meeting of the

Council was specially summoned in obedience to the suggestion of the

King, who had been consulted as to his personal wishes on the

subject—should he have any. The President then proceeded to inform

me officially that all Proceedings of the Privy Council were

altogether confidential, and were not to be made public under any

circumstances. He was gracious enough to add:

 

“‘The circumstances of this case, however, are unique; and as you act

for another, we have thought it advisable to enlarge your permission

in the matter, so as to allow you to communicate freely with your

principal. As that gentleman is settling himself in a part of the

world which has been in the past, and