If he had had any doubt before, the terms of that oath, which he himself had taken--probably without understanding it since it had been read to him in Latin--were sufficient to decide him. Without loss of time he sent word by his Comptroller-General to the Prime Minister that he intended in the following week to revive the full ceremony and to recall the Knights of the Thorn to the duties they had so long neglected. The ceremony, as of old, was to take place in public at noon outside the doors of the metropolitan cathedral.
"The King is going off his head," said the Comptroller-General by way of preface to the announcement with which he was charged; and the Prime Minister was ready to agree with him when he heard it.
"He has got chapter and verse for it," lamented the Comptroller-General.
"Can't you persuade him that it's a forgery?"
"It's in the oath," replied the other; "you yourself have taken it."
"Oh, yes, the form; but the ceremony--the accompanying service, I mean--was cut out of the Church Prayers at the time of the Reformation. It has become illegal."
"Inside a church, yes; not outside. At least that is his contention. Oh, I have already done my best! He got quite excited when I ventured to discuss the matter,--asked me if I understood the nature of an oath, and whether I had ever taken one."
"Ordinarily he would oppose it as savoring of Rome; under present circumstances my impression is that he will welcome it as giving the Church an added importance. You don't like it?"
"Then you had better see the King yourself. You have only a week left; and he has already begun looking at the weather-glass and wondering if it's going to be fine."
"That's just like him!" said the Prime Minister.
"Yes, and he's getting more like himself every day. My part is not a sinecure, I can assure you."
Accordingly the Prime Minister went over to the Palace and saw the King. Informed as to what line of argument had already been tried and failed, he approached the matter from a new standpoint: he spoke in the name of Protestantism. This ceremony had only survived in Catholic countries; in Jingalo the Reformation had killed it, and it had gone with graven images, the invocation of saints, and the worship of relics to the limbo of forgotten foolishnesses.