People's Pilot, Volume 2, Number 26, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 December 1892 — AMERICAN PUSH. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

AMERICAN PUSH.

By EDGAR FAWCETT.

JF (fiPVRIOMT. 1891 ' By the Author?/jaiamc*.

CHAPTER VH—CoirmnntD. The princess of Brindisi was a woman who rarely kept silent, even from sulkiness, longer than ten minutes at a time. Before the journey had been half accomplished she broke in upon a civil oommonplace which her son was addressing to Bianca. So filled with bitr tern ess were her words that Bianca’s inild waxen eyelids lowered themselves as if in gentle sorrow. The king heard and bit his lips. “I might have had a larger guard of soldiers to greet you,” he said, “if your ooming had not been so precipitate and unexpected.” “Precipitate! Unexpected!” echoed the princess, with the tips of her lips. “And a king speaks that way to his mother! One might fancy, Clarimond, that some member of the petite noblesse —no, of even the common, vulgar herd Itself lately raised to power—had presented this piteous excuse!” “I did not mean it for an excuse," came Clarimond’s cold answer, and he threw himself back against the cushions of the carriage, disheartened, disgusted. From this ambuscade of shadow he could watch his mother, on whom the lamplight fell with somewhat cruelly telling ardor. She had not markedly altered during the long interval which had preceded their last meeting. Her figure was still of that fine if somewhat too masculine molding which had won her, years ago, many a compliment at the court of her imperial cousin. Her face was just as firmly chiseled as of old, with its aquiline arc of nostril and its overfull eyeballs too closely set together, implying both narrowness of judgment and a voluble art of defending it. Her bands, now cased in sombentraveling gloves, just as her form was robed In a dark traveling gown of perfect fit, retained their happy grace of gesture, not too reposeful, not too emphatic. “I kiss the most beautiful hand in Europe,” a famous conqueror had once said to her, and the courtesy had echoed from oourt to court. But on her chill lips dwelt the old insolent curve, though a few subtle little wrinkles had crept in dainty mockery about their corners. Her hair, once abundant and dark-shin-ing, was visibly thinned and silvered at the temples. Otherwise she continued to be the princess of Brindisi, distinguished in every movement of her frame, an incarnate quintessence of the aristocratic idea, redolent of pride, intolerance and the most vicious aims which caste has created in spite of Christianity, and preserve! in spite of all human progress. Her reception at the palace displeased her more than the previous welcome had done. She had really been delayed in her jefurney to the frontier by an accident on one of the trains, but this fact seemed to her no possible reason why royalty should not have immediate and sumptuous means at its command for treating her with the same homage by night as by day. “A king,” she said to her son, when at last they were alone together in a suite of chambers which even she, prepared to cavil and to damn with faint praise, could not but frankly admire for their simple yet noble splendor, “a king, my dear Clarimond, should never be caught without his magnificence. ” “If I were in any sense a great king," began Clarimond, with a laugh. But the princess stopped him, frowningly. “You’re a very notable and rich one,’.’ she said, “almost as rich as the emperor himself.” “Well, granted” “Almost as rich,” she went on with a bitter laugh, “an an American.” “Oh, they’re not all so rich, by any means. And you hate them as much as ever?”

“They arc barbarians," announced the princess, leaning back in her chair •nd beginning to fan herself. “How we differ, you and If” “Oh, naturally, since you’re made one of them your bosom friend, my son, and let him tear to piecfes the loveliest and most time-honored spot in SaltTavia.” Clarimond gave a weary smile. “Wait nntil you see the changes Eric Thaxter has wrought before you so coldly condemn them.” “I don’t need to ace them.” “Oh, my mother, my mother!” “Were not those homes of our great nobltsa filled with the most reverend associations, legends and traditions?” “They were frightfully ugly, and cursed by a • most villainous drainage. If you could see the improvement in our health reports since their demolition! As for their age, the hideous is ever young, since taste almost ignores its very existence, while the beautiful, being an immortal element, has existed lor all time. I think you have already seen something of the palace. Surely you would not say that you prefer to it that majestic shanty in which my poor predecessor died. Eric’s work has delighted more than one of the most famous architects in Paris. He is a genius, and I was lucky enough to discover him. He is an American, and for that reason fn detest turn.”

"Delugs me with words, If you will," Mid the princess, and she smiled her Iciest 6mile. “The palace is handsome, but it smells of freth paint, ao to speak, and I am sure that when I aee its white marble grandeurs I shall only repeat the verdict already conveyed to me in Italy by the most competent judges that it does not betray a sign of genius, but is just what hundreds of clever Americans could have accomplished If given the same tremendous carte blanche which you gave—er —to that person.’' “But I thought you considered all Americans barbarians?” the king replied, lifting his brows a little and beginning slowly to pace the spacious waxed floor of the grand apartment, with head somewhat drooped and hn-nria clasped behind him. “How yon take one up! You should-’ remember that I am your mother, not your courtier.” “1 have no courtiers. I’ve dispensed with all that flummery.” “Oh, indeed! *And you will soon be giving your portfolio of state, no doubt, to this American nobody.” “The American nobody, os you call him, would uot accept it. He is an artist, and politics, like all ugly things, are repellent to artists.” The princess heaved a resonant and irritated sigh. “Worse and worse,” she muttered. “God has called you to be king over this land where your ancestors have ruled for nearly a thousand years,” she went on, in strained, passionate falsetto. “Yetyou seem tome on the verge of flinging your responsibilities to the winds—of casting your holy and anointed crown in the mud of the common highways!” At this point Clarimond ceased from his impatient walk and paused directly in front of his mother. Flashes left his eyes that bespoke irony and yet earnestness as welL He had become quite pale and his demeanor, always full of dignity, was never statelier than now. “We might as well understand one another,” he began, “if such a result can ever be attained between two spirits as wholly opposite as yours and mine. Were it possible for me to abdicate to-morrow and make Saltravia a

republic, like Switzerland, instead of the petty, subservient monarchy that it is, I would give up my throne with the most cheerful renunciation.” “Clarimond!” “But 1 know too well,” he resumed, with loudening voice and a curl of the lip far more sad than spleenful, “that any such act as this would only rouse the wrath of the emperor and plunge my poor country in untold distress. Hence I must remain the miserable parody of a king that I am—l, pierced with disgust for the paltry pretentions of all sovereigns, loving the broad popular impulse of self-government with a love drawn from intuition, reflection and the wisdom of the world’s highest thinkers. My fate is both a piteous and a terrible one!” He grew still paler, now, and for a moment covered his face with both hands, while a tremor stirred his frame, like a sudden breeze that grasps a sturdy tree. “On every skje of me I discern,” he pursued, “the richest chances of raising not merely this race over which I rule but of setting to all mankind an example of liberty, fraternity, fellowship! And yet my limbs are bound with bonds, golden, if you please, but bonds that I cannot break. If 1 were only less of a king I might b© more of a man. If I were only more of a king I might be less of a slave!” “A slave! Clarimond! You do not merely shock—you horrify* me!” “Mother!” he cried, advancing toward her as she rose, “there are times when I horrify myself! If I were the emperor this hour I would make Europe ring with my self-abnegations, my revolts against abhorrent creeds, my mercy and pity for those vast throngs of the crushed and despised people whom centuries of injustice have cursed! I am one of them, heart and soul. They tell me that history repeats itself. No; it contradicts itself, and such a king as I—the incarnate satire on all despotisms, outrages, feudalisms of the past—is one of history’s harshest contradictions!” His excitement had flared up like live flame, but in an instant more it died and he was again his calm self. The princess, however, returned to her chair with ashen face and a staggering step. Words like these were literal blows of insult to her; they wrought in her the same sensation as'the hooting of a mob at her window would have done, or a volley of stones flung into her carriage. “The fault has been mine, mine!” she exclaimed, brokenly, a® soon as any voice at all would come to her. “I —I left you among ycur father’s people, and they have always flown in the face of order, with their homd heresies and paganisms. For you to feel as you tell me, Clarimond, is in my sight a fearful blasphemy;” and here the princfess wrung her beautiful white hands. “But still, my son, if you think like this, you need not, for such reason, act like thin And at once—yes, at once, Clarimond— I wish to speak to you of your possible marriage. You law already seen

Blanca d’Ksie. JThat aha to lovely to face and form it will be foolish even to remind yon; iie one can look on her without conceding thus much. But her nature is no less winsome than her person. I hare dreamed of making her your wife; I —l will not say that 1 have come here with this positive purpose, but it has held over me on undoubted away. Such a marriage as that would work in you vhe most helpful and steadying change Oh, don't fancy j that I mean for yo i to take Bianca as if she were a dose of medicine! She has bad men of the highest rank at her feet, and refused them; she Is captivating, os you will soon see, apart from her name, her birth, yes, even from her beauty. I meqp that she is accomplished in a hundred pretty, appealing ways, which adorn her native strength of character like the enameling on silver. Still, in spirit this dear girl is already dedicated to the church, and perhaps if you were to lay your crown before her she would sweetly yet firmly refuse it- But ah, my Clarimond, if she should bend that golden head of hers for you to Get it there, how invaluable would prove her wifehood! Her queenhood, too, I should say, and you would revere in her both qualities. By degrees her influence would tranquilize in your fevered mind all these wild and fruitless longings which are the fatal pride of intellect alone. Yon would slowly realize that kings are the sacred vicars of God’s will, and that the only safe watchword of the great, common, witless mass to ‘obedience.’ You would slowly realize again, my dear son—” But here Clarimond ventured an interruption. He had borne much from his mother in the past; he was prepared to bear much from her in the future, since already it had grown clear to him that she had arrived with the intent of a permanent sojourn. But just now, notwithstanding that late effort at selfcontrol which had resulted so success fully, the king once more felt his nerves in danger of tumult- He had never behaved to his mother with the faintest lack of respectful gallantry; he was indeed incapable of any act toward her except one of gentleness and toleration*

no matter how exacting or imperious might have been her own attitude. Nevertheless, he had in readiness at his mental command a certain quiet yet cogent force of repulsion which his great position made it not seldom requisite for him to employ, and which he did not hesitate to employ now. “My dear mother,” he said, bending over her hand and touching it lightly with his lips, “you surely must be fatigued with your journey; and if you will permit, I will send to you your women. Perhaps I have been too .reckless in my recent confidences, and if so pray remember that I have uttered them in no role of personal resentment* As for the young lady whom you have brought to Saltravia with the expectation of making her my wife, it would be idle in me to place the attractions of either my throne or my personality against those of her mother church. , Surely she will there find profounder consolation than any that my more limited resources could bestow.” This, even from son to mother, was a sort of royal dismissal. But the princess, who might be got rid of for a night, could not be waived aside more durably. As one of her detested Americans might have said, she had come to stay. The king now felt himself in straits with regard to the due reception and entertainment of Alonzo. On the following day he and Eric presented themselves at the palace, and an hour or two of the most pleasant intercourse ensued. Alonzo, after visiting with the king those great galleries on whose walls blank spaces were left for the pictures that he would probably bring to them, felt immensely drawn toward his new master. In a few more days he started on the first of his missions, one that took him among certain old monasteries in the north of Italy. Meanwhile the king bored himself with etiquette and precedent under the keen scrutiny of his mother. The princess would not lift an eyelid unless court custom sanctioned it. She managed, during that summer and the next autumn. to gather about herself a little coterie of supporters, and for a time a new political party was talked of. But her son’s entire indifference may have gone far to prevent such imprudent measures. “My mother has tortured us for eight weeks,” Clarimond at length said to Eric. “I wonder how much longer she will insist upon making it a crime for a man to be seen smoking a cigarette within twenty yards of her, even eu pleine air." ' “What is the punishment for such a crime?” asked Eric, who had thus far been simply repelled by the princess, never presuming to cross the threshold of any chamber in which she chose to enshrine her august presence.’ “Decapitation, I believe," said the king, tragi-comieally. “My dear Eric," he went on, “is not everything quite spoiled?" “We had thought of a sham revolt*

Ikm. Lou a and I," began Eric. And torn he described, in terse and awifi phrase, an Imaginary fete, where the oourt would play parts of masquerading martyrs and suppliants and the palace would be stormed by suppositious insurgents. “Delightful," said Clarimond. “What *a lark,’ to speak your American slang! We would give sanguinary orders to the maitre d’ hotel. Plenty of blood, and heads on pikes thrust in at the windows Everybody would be mock terrified until supper-time, and then it would all end in amicable beakers. Did your beloved Alonzo suggest that? No, I need uot ask, Eric His too distinctly you." “It is he, not L£ replied Eric, fibbing shamelessly. “When you know him better you will accredit him with th* originality of the idea.” “I know him well enough," said the king, “to credit him with much inventiveness. But my mother—" “Ah, yes. your majesty, I—" “Tut, tut, Eric. If you ‘majesty’ me I will exile you from Saltravia." “Pardon, monsieur; it was a slip." “Don’t let the slip occur again. But the princess would never consent to such a fete. It would satirize too fiercely her well-known prejudices. , . .• ’Lous’, as you call him, will soon be back with some treasures?" Alonzo returned within the week, and greatly pleased his uew employer by one or two shrewd selections in the way of purchase* But when October had waned, and the princess had given every sign that she did not choose to reeoek her dear Italy, Clarimond declared himself piteously handicaped. Bianca d’ Este was forever thrust at him, and the young lady's “accomplishments" were made as drearily ordinary to him as the details of his toast and coffee at breakfast time. He could dizoover in Bianca nothing that interested him. The winter began, and the oourt had become, under the princess’ haughty surveillance, one somber monotony. Winter in Saltravia wo* never severe; snow fell and blast* blew, but seldom with harsh results Alonzo, thoroughly fitted to his new position, acquitted himself with skill and tact. He made several new journeys, and each bore its fine artistto fruit. The king became almost as devotedly his friend as he was the friend of Eric. When a fresh spring had lavished its green beauty on the Saltravian hills, Eric declared to his fellow-lodgers “I am positively jealous of you, my dear Lonz. Jealousy, you the touchstone of friendship. You leave me no resource with the king except that of slander. I must whisper inslduous things about you in the ear of Clarimond.” “As If you could, Eric!" said Alonzo. [to bk continued. |

“MOTHER!" HE CRIED, ADVANCING TOWARD HER AS SHE ROSE.