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The King had now become a part of their life and interest, he was one with them, not apart from them as once he had been; therefore he must have known how Lotys had loved them. Yes, someone should surely tell the King! "The King must be informed of this," went on Zouche; "If there is no one else to take the news to him, I will!"
"Shall I dance now?" enquired Pequita. Lotys smiled and nodded. Four or five of the company at once got up, and helped to push aside the table. "Will you play for me, Monsieur Valdor?" asked the little girl, still standing by the side of Zouche. "Of course, my child! What shall it be?
'Beneath, by Heaven! I, Paul Zouche, may yet mount behind Majesty's chair, and with a single rhyme send his crown spinning into space! Meanwhile, I have flung back his hundred golden pieces, with as much force in the edge of my pen as there would be in my hand if you were his Majesty sitting there, and I flung them across the table now!" Again Leroy laughed.
"Someone else will be grateful too!" said Lotys in her rich thrilling voice; and her eyes rested on him with that wonderful magnetic sweetness which drew his soul out of him as by a spell; while Zouche, only partially understanding the conversation said slowly: "Pequita deserves all the good she can get; more than any of us.
"Brethren, let us pray!" cried Zouche; "For all we know, while we sit here carousing and drinking to the health of our incomparable Lotys, the soul of St. Peter's successor may be careering through Sphere- Forests, and over Planet-Oceans, up to its own specially built and particularly furnished Heaven!
"Hear, hear!" shouted Zouche, who had been steadily drinking for the last few moments, "Speak on, man! Whoever heard of a dumb Socialist! Rant rant! Rant and rave! as I do, when the fit is on me! Do I not, Thord? Do I not move you even to tears?" "And laughter!" put in Zegota. "Hold your tongue, Zouche! No other man can talk at all, if you once begin!" Zouche laughed, and drained his glass.
But, child, I have seen a caterpillar, shaken rudely from the fragrant petals of a rose, crawl to the next weed that grew. She was fair and well-dowered; and against the King's will, she wedded the Lord de la Zouche, in whose custody she was. "And now for the end of my woeful tale, which is the story of Isabel herself.
After a brief consultation together, they asked him to wait while a messenger was despatched to Sir Roger. Zouche, with a curious air of passive toleration sat quietly on the chair they offered, and waited several minutes glancing meanwhile at the display of splendour and luxury about him with an indifference bordering on contempt.
The interest of the public on this particular occasion was centred in the new Opera, which had only been given three times before, and in which the little dancer, Pequita, played the part of a child-heroine. The libretto was the work of Paul Zouche, and the music by one of the greatest violinists in the world, Louis Valdor.
There was an awe-stricken silence. No one volunteered such heart- rending service. "Who will tell the King?" suddenly exclaimed a harsh voice, that of Paul Zouche, who in his habit of hardly ever going to bed, had seen the crowd gather, and had quickly joined it. "Lotys saved his life! He should be told!"
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