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I was inclined to refuse to kiss Krak, but my mother made such a point of compliance that I yielded reluctantly. In days of health Krak had exacted, morning and evening, a formal and perfunctory peck; if I gave her no more now she looked aggrieved, and my mother distressed.
Victoria would make no reply the Krak traditions endured to prevent an answer to rebukes but when we were alone she used to remark, "I should think an iceberg's rather like a mother. Only one needn't live with icebergs." Quite suddenly, as it seemed, it occurred to Victoria that she was pretty.
My mother was very prettily dressed, and so was Victoria. I was very glad that Krak was in another vehicle. There were crowds of people in the street, cheering us more than they ever had before; I was taking off my hat all the time. Once or twice I held up my sword for them to see, but everybody laughed, and I would not do it any more.
Why, then but Krak ended my musings by whisking me out of bed. It was fine fun to ride in the carriage by my mother's side, with Victoria and old Hammerfeldt opposite. Hammerfeldt was President of the Council of Regency; but I, knowing nothing of that, supposed my mother had asked him into our carriage because he amused us and gave us chocolates.
There was no doubt of it; for presently Krak bowed her head in a jerky unwilling nod and walked out of the room. My mother stood still for a moment with a vivid red colour in her cheeks. Then she walked across to Victoria, lifted one of her hands from the table, and kissed it. "You're going to have tea with me to-day, children," said she, "and we'll play games afterward.
Then my mother made me get up and turn and face the people; she put the crown on my head again; then she knelt and kissed my hand. I was very much surprised, and I saw Victoria trying hard not to laugh because Krak was just by her. But I didn't want to laugh; I was too much surprised.
For things good and things bad may be concealed, things that people should know and things that concern them not, great secrets of State and the flutterings of hearts. Victoria practised concealment. I found her crying once, crying alone in a corner of the terrace under a ludicrous old statue of Mercury. I was amazed; I had not seen her cry so heartily since Krak had last ill-treated her.
But now Victoria was sixteen; and Krak, elderly, pensioned, but unbroken, was gone. It seemed strange, but Krak was homesick for Styria. She went; Victoria gave her the tribute of a tear, surprised out of her before she remembered her causes for exultation. Then came their memory, and she was outrageously triumphant. A new era began; the buffer was gone; my mother and Victoria were face and face.
I let her move the bedclothes and get in with me; and I put my arms round her neck. Victoria comforted me as best she could. "You'll be a real king when you grow up," she said. A thought struck me a rapturous thought, born of the Arabian Nights. "Yes," I cried, "and then I'll bastinado Krak!" With this comforting thought I fell asleep.
Krak was as unmoved and business-like as usual. I was determined not to cry not to-night. I was not very hard tried; almost directly my mother said, "That will do." There was a pause; no doubt Krak's face expressed a surprised protest. "Yes, that's enough to-day," said my mother, and she added, "Get into bed, Augustin. You must learn to be an obedient boy before you can be a good king."
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