I, Thou, and the Other One — Part 55

"Who can tell? Here comes Richmoor. He may be able to prognosticate. What a murmur of voices! What invisible movement! Can you divine the news from the messenger's face?"

"He thinks that he brings good news. He may be fatally wrong."

The Duke certainly thought that he brought good news. He was much excited. He came forward with his hands extended, palms upward.

"The King stands by us!" he cried. "God save the King!"

Twenty voices called out at once, "What did he say?"

"He said plainly that in spite of the public opinion expressed so loudly in recent elections, Reform would have no sanction from the Government. I only stayed until the end of the royal speech. Yet in some way rumours of its purport must have reached the street. In the neighbourhood, there was much agitation, and even anger."

Then Kate slipped away from the excited throng. Piers had evidently remained for the discussion on the King's speech; and it might be midnight when the House adjourned. The winter day was fast darkening; she ordered her chairmen, and the pretty sedan was brought into the vestibule for her. She had no fear, though the very gloom and silence of the waiting crowd was more indicative of danger than noise or threats would have been. When she reached Hyde Park corner, however, angry faces pressed around a little too close, and she was alarmed. Then she threw back her hood and looked out calmly at the crowd, and immediately a clear voice cried out, "It is Edgar Atheling's sister! Take good care of her!" And there was a cheer and a cry, and about twenty men closed round the chair, and saw it safely to its destination.

Then Cecil North stepped to the door and opened it. "I knew it was you, Mr. North!" cried Kate. "I knew your voice. How kind of you to come all the way with me! How glad mother will be to see you!"

"I cannot wait a moment, Miss Atheling. Can you give me any news?"

"Yes. The King says the Government will not sanction Reform."

"Then 'good-night.' I am afraid there will be trouble."

Mrs. Atheling and Kate were afraid also. The murmur of the crowd grew louder and louder as the tenor of the King's speech became known; and many a time they wished themselves in the safety and solitude of their Yorkshire home. So they talked, and watched, and listened until the night was far advanced. Then they heard the firm, strong step of the Squire on the pavement; and his imperative voice in denial of something said by a group of men whom he passed. In a few minutes he entered the drawing-room with an angry light in his eyes, and the manner of a man exasperated by opposition.