The king of Jugendheit was to marry her serene highness!
It was a bad business, a bad business; no good would come of it. The
great duke was a weak man, after all.
The menials in and about the embassy felt the new importance of their
positions. So then, imagine the indignation of the majordomo, when,
summoned at dusk one evening to the carriage gates, three or four days
after the portentous news had issued from the palace, he found only a
ragged and grimy carter who demanded peremptorily to be admitted and
taken to his excellency at once.
"Be off with you, ragamuffin!" growled the majordomo.
"Be quick; open the gates!" replied the carter, swinging his whip
threateningly.
"Go away!" The majordomo spun on his heels contemptuously.
"I will skin you alive," vowed the carter, striking the iron with the
butt of his whip, "if you do not open these gates immediately. Open!"
There was real menace this time. Could the fellow be crazy? The
majordomo concluded to temporize.
"My good man," he said conciliatorily, "you have brains. You ought to
know that his excellency will receive no man in your condition. If you
do not stop hammering on those bars, I shall send for the police."
The carter thrust a hand through the grill. There was a ring on one of
his fingers.
Pages:
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111