The Lady of the Shroud by Bram Stoker (book series for 10 year olds .txt) đź“•
"Sorry. But, of course, you don't understand such things." Then he went on talking before father had time to say a word.
"Let us get back to business. As you do not seem to follow me, let me explain that it is BECAUSE I do not forget that I wish to do this. I remember my dear mother's wish to make Aunt Janet happy, and would like to do as she did."
"AUNT Janet?" said father, very properly sneering at his ignorance. "She is not your aunt. Why, even her sister, who was married to your uncle, was only your aunt by courtesy." I could not help feeling that Rupert meant to be rude to my father, though his words were quite polite. If I had been as much bigger than him as he was than me, I should have flown at him; but he was a very big boy for his age. I am myself rather thin. Mother says thinness is an "appanage of birth."
"My Aunt Janet, sir, is an aunt by love. Courtesy is a small word to use in connection with such devoti
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luxury will make a memory which will serve in time as an example to
be aimed at. I shall write again soon. Don’t hesitate to ask any
favour which I may be able to confer on you. So long!
Your affectionate cousin,
ERNEST ROGER HALBARD MELTON.
Extract from Letter from E. Bingham Trent to Queen Teuta of the Blue
Mountains.
… So I thought the best way to serve that appalling cad would be
to take him at his word, and put in his literary contribution in
full. I have had made and attested a copy of his “Record,” as he
calls it, so as to save you trouble. But I send the book itself,
because I am afraid that unless you see his words in his own writing,
you will not believe that he or anyone else ever penned seriously a
document so incriminating. I am sure he must have forgotten what he
had written, for even such a dull dog as he is could never have made
public such a thing knowingly.
Such a nature has its revenges on itself. In this case the officers
of revenge are his ipsissima verba.
RUPERT’S JOURNAL—Continued.
February 1, 1909.
All is now well in train. When the Czar of Russia, on being asked by
the Sclavs (as was meet) to be the referee in the “Balkan
Settlement,” declined on the ground that he was himself by inference
an interested party, it was unanimously agreed by the Balkan rulers
that the Western King should be asked to arbitrate, as all concerned
had perfect confidence in his wisdom, as well as his justice. To
their wish he graciously assented. The matter has now been for more
than six months in his hands, and he has taken endless trouble to
obtain full information. He has now informed us through his
Chancellor that his decision is almost ready, and will be
communicated as soon as possible.
We have another hunting-party at Vissarion next week. Teuta is
looking forward to it with extraordinary interest. She hopes then to
present to our brothers of the Balkans our little son, and she is
eager to know if they endorse her mother-approval of him.
RUPERT’S JOURNAL—Continued.
April 15, 1909.
The arbitrator’s decision has been communicated to us through the
Chancellor of the Western King, who brought it to us himself as a
special act of friendliness. It met with the enthusiastic approval
of all. The Premier remained with us during the progress of the
hunting-party, which was one of the most joyous occasions ever known.
We are all of good heart, for the future of the Balkan races is now
assured. The strife—internal and external—of a thousand years has
ceased, and we look with hope for a long and happy time. The
Chancellor brought messages of grace and courtliness and friendliness
to all. And when I, as spokesman of the party, asked him if we might
convey a request of His Majesty that he would honour us by attending
the ceremony of making known formally the Balkan Settlement, he
answered that the King had authorized him to say that he would, if
such were wished by us, gladly come; and that if he should come, he
would attend with a fleet as an escort. The Chancellor also told me
from himself that it might be possible to have other nationalities
represented on such a great occasion by Ambassadors and even fleets,
though the monarchs themselves might not be able to attend. He
hinted that it might be well if I put the matter in train. (He
evidently took it for granted that, though I was only one of several,
the matter rested with me—possibly he chose me as the one to whom to
make the confidence, as I was born a stranger.) As we talked it
over, he grew more enthusiastic, and finally said that, as the King
was taking the lead, doubtless all the nations of the earth friendly
to him would like to take a part in the ceremony. So it is likely to
turn out practically an international ceremony of a unique kind.
Teuta will love it, and we shall all do what we can.
JANET MACKELPIE’S NOTES.
June 1, 1909.
Our dear Teuta is full of the forthcoming celebration of the Balkan
Federation, which is to take place this day month, although I must
say, for myself, that the ceremony is attaining to such dimensions
that I am beginning to have a sort of vague fear of some kind. It
almost seems uncanny. Rupert is working unceasingly—has been for
some time. For weeks past he seems to have been out day and night on
his aeroplane, going through and round over the country arranging
matters, and seeing for himself that what has been arranged is being
done. Uncle Colin is always about, too, and so is Admiral Rooke.
But now Teuta is beginning to go with Rupert. That girl is simply
fearless—just like Rupert. And they both seem anxious that little
Rupert shall be the same. Indeed, he is the same. A few mornings
ago Rupert and Teuta were about to start just after dawn from the top
of the Castle. Little Rupert was there—he is always awake early and
as bright as a bee. I was holding him in my arms, and when his
mother leant over to kiss him good-bye, he held out his arms to her
in a way that said as plainly as if he had spoken, “Take me with
you.”
She looked appealingly at Rupert, who nodded, and said: “All right.
Take him, darling. He will have to learn some day, and the sooner
the better.” The baby, looking eagerly from one to the other with
the same questioning in his eyes as there is sometimes in the eyes of
a kitten or a puppy—but, of course, with an eager soul behind it—
saw that he was going, and almost leaped into his mother’s arms. I
think she had expected him to come, for she took a little leather
dress from Margareta, his nurse, and, flushing with pride, began to
wrap him in it. When Teuta, holding him in her arms, stepped on the
aeroplane, and took her place in the centre behind Rupert, the young
men of the Crown Prince’s Guard raised a cheer, amid which Rupert
pulled the levers, and they glided off into the dawn.
The Crown Prince’s Guard was established by the mountaineers
themselves the day of his birth. Ten of the biggest and most
powerful and cleverest young men of the nation were chosen, and were
sworn in with a very impressive ceremony to guard the young Prince.
They were to so arrange and order themselves and matters generally
that two at least of them should always have him, or the place in
which he was, within their sight. They all vowed that the last of
their lives should go before harm came to him. Of course, Teuta
understood, and so did Rupert. And these young men are the persons
most privileged in the whole Castle. They are dear boys, every one
of them, and we are all fond of them and respect them. They simply
idolize the baby.
Ever since that morning little Rupert has, unless it is at a time
appointed for his sleeping, gone in his mother’s arms. I think in
any other place there would be some State remonstrance at the whole
royal family being at once and together in a dangerous position, but
in the Blue Mountains danger and fear are not thought of—indeed,
they can hardly be in their terminology. And I really think the
child enjoys it even more than his parents. He is just like a little
bird that has found the use of his wings. Bless him!
I find that even I have to study Court ritual a little. So many
nationalities are to be represented at the ceremony of the “Balkan
Settlement,” and so many Kings and Princes and notabilities of all
kinds are coming, that we must all take care not to make any
mistakes. The Press alone would drive anyone silly. Rupert and
Teuta come and sit with me sometimes in the evening when we are all
too tired to work, and they rest themselves by talking matters over.
Rupert says that there will be over five hundred reporters, and that
the applications for permission are coming in so fast that there may
be a thousand when the day comes. Last night he stopped in the
middle of speaking of it, and said:
“I have an inspiration! Fancy a thousand journalists,—each wanting
to get ahead of the rest, and all willing to invoke the Powers of
Evil for exclusive information! The only man to look after this
department is Rooke. He knows how to deal with men, and as we have
already a large staff to look after the journalistic guests, he can
be at the head, and appoint his own deputies to act for him.
Somewhere and sometime the keeping the peace will be a matter of
nerve and resolution, and Rooke is the man for the job.”
We were all concerned about one thing, naturally important in the
eyes of a woman: What robes was Teuta to wear? In the old days,
when there were Kings and Queens, they doubtless wore something
gorgeous or impressive; but whatever it was that they wore has gone
to dust centuries ago, and there were no illustrated papers in those
primitive days. Teuta was talking to me eagerly, with her dear
beautiful brows all wrinkled, when Rupert who was reading a bulky
document of some kind, looked up and said:
“Of course, darling, you will wear your Shroud?”
“Capital!” she said, clapping her hands like a joyous child. “The
very thing, and our people will like it.”
I own that for a moment I was dismayed. It was a horrible test of a
woman’s love and devotion. At a time when she was entertaining Kings
and notabilities in her own house—and be sure they would all be
decked in their finery—to have to appear in such a garment! A plain
thing with nothing even pretty, let alone gorgeous, about it! I
expressed my views to Rupert, for I feared that Teuta might be
disappointed, though she might not care to say so; but before he
could say a word Teuta answered:
“Oh, thank you so much, dear! I should love that above everything,
but I did not like to suggest it, lest you should think me arrogant
or presuming; for, indeed, Rupert, I am very proud of it, and of the
way our people look on it.”
“Why not?” said Rupert, in his direct way. “It is a thing for us all
to be proud of; the nation has already adopted it as a national
emblem—our emblem of courage and devotion and patriotism, which will
always, I hope, be treasured beyond price by the men and women of our
Dynasty, the Nation, that is—of the Nation that is to be.”
Later on in the evening we had a strange endorsement of the national
will. A “People’s Deputation” of mountaineers, without any official
notice or introduction, arrived at the Castle late in the evening in
the manner established by Rupert’s “Proclamation of Freedom,” wherein
all citizens were entitled to send a deputation to the King, at will
and in private, on any subject of State importance. This deputation
was composed of seventeen men, one selected from each political
section, so that the body as a whole represented the entire nation.
They were of all sorts of social rank and all degrees of fortune, but
they were mainly “of the people.” They spoke hesitatingly—possibly
because Teuta, or even because I, was present—but with
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