There came a day, not many weeks later
in the history of our emigrants, when great preparations
were made for an important and unusual event.
This was neither more nor less than
the coronation of Queen Pauline the First.
The great event had been delayed by
the unfortunate illness of the elect queen herself-an
illness brought on by reckless exposure in the pursuit
of the picturesque and beautiful among the islets of
the lagoon. In other words, Otto and she, when
off on a fishing and sketching excursion in the dinghy
of the wreck, had been caught in a storm and drenched
to the skin. The result to Otto was an increase
of appetite; to Pauline, a sharp attack of fever,
which confined her for some time to the palace, as
their little hut was now styled. Here the widow
Lynch-acting the united parts of nurse,
lady of the bedchamber, mistress of the robes, maid
of honour, chef de cuisine, and any other office
that the reader may recollect as belonging to royalty-did
so conduct herself as to gain not only the approval
but the affection and gratitude of her royal mistress.
During the period of Pauline’s
convalescence considerable changes had taken place
in the circumstances and condition of the community.
The mere fact that a government had been fixed on,
the details of which were being wrought out by a committee
of leading men appointed by the people, tended to
keep the turbulent spirits pretty quiet, and enabled
the well-disposed to devote all their strength of
mind and body to the various duties that devolved
upon them and the improving of their circumstances.
Busy workers are usually peaceful. They have
no time to quarrel. It is only when turbulent
idlers interfere with or oppress them that the industrious
are compelled to show their teeth and set up their
backs.
During these weeks the appearance
of the shores of Big Island began to change materially.
All round the edge of Silver Bay a number of bright
green patches were enclosed by rough but effective
fences. These were the gardens of the community,
in which sweet potatoes, yams, etcetera, grew spontaneously,
while some vegetables of the northern hemisphere had
already been sown, and were in some cases even beginning
to show above ground. In these gardens, when
the important work of planting had been finished,
the people set about building huts of various shapes
and sizes, according to their varying taste and capacity.
Even at this early stage in the life
of the little community the difficulties which necessarily
surround a state of civilisation began to appear,
and came out at one of the frequent, though informal,
meetings of the men on the sands of Silver Bay.
It happened thus:-
It was evening. The younger
and more lively men of the community, having a large
store of surplus energy unexhausted after the labours
of the day, began, as is the wont of the young and
lively, to compete with one another in feats of agility
and strength, while a group of their elders stood,
sat, or reclined on a bank, discussing the affairs
of the nation, and some of them enjoying their pipes-for,
you see, everything in the wreck having been saved,
they had, among other bad things, plenty of tobacco.
Dr Marsh sat among the elders, for,
although several weeks on shore had greatly restored
his health, he was still too weak to join in the athletics.
A few of the women and children also looked on, but
they stood aside by themselves, not feeling very much
interested in the somewhat heated discussions of the
men.
By degrees these discussions degenerated
into disputes, and became at last so noisy that the
young athletes were attracted, and some of them took
part in the debates.
“I tell ’ee what it is,”
exclaimed Nobbs, the blacksmith, raising his powerful
voice above the other voices, and lifting his huge
fist in the air, “something’ll have to
be done, for I can’t go on workin’ for
nothin’ in this fashion.”
“No more can I, or my mates,”
said Abel Welsh, the carpenter.
“Here comes the Prime Minister,” cried
Teddy Malone.
“To be-he
ain’t Prime Minister yet,” growled Jabez
Jenkins, who, being a secret ally of Hugh Morris,
was one of the disaffected, and had, besides, a natural
tendency to growl and object to everything.
“He is Prime Minister,”
cried the fiery little Buxley, starting up and extending
his hand with the air of one who is about to make a
speech. “No doubt the Queen ain’t
crowned yet, an’ hasn’t therefore appointed
any one to be her Minister, but we know she means to
do it and we’re all agreed about it.”
“No we ain’t,” interrupted Jenkins,
angrily.
“Well, the most on us, then,” retorted
Buxley.
“Shut up, you radical!”
said Nobbs, giving the tailor a facetious slap on
the back, “an’ let’s hear what the
Prime Minister himself has got to say about it.”
“What is the subject under discussion?”
inquired Dominick, who, with Otto, joined the group
of men at the moment and flung down a basket of fine
fish which he had just caught in the lagoon.
He turned to Dr Marsh for an answer.
“Do you explain your difficulties,”
said the doctor to the blacksmith.
“Well, sir,” said Nobbs,
“here’s where it is. When I fust
comed ashore an’ set up my anvil an’ bellows
I went to work with a will, enjyin’ the fun
o’ the thing an’ the novelty of the sitivation;
an’ as we’d lots of iron of all kinds
I knocked off nails an’ hinges an’ all
sorts o’ things for anybody as wanted ’em.
Similarly, w’en Abel Welsh comed ashore he
went to work with his mates at the pit-saw an’
tossed off no end o’ planks, etceterer.
But you see, sir, arter a time we come for to find
that we’re workin’ to the whole population
for nothin’, and while everybody else is working
away at his own hut or garden, or what not, our
gardens is left to work themselves, an’ our
huts is nowhere! Now, as we’ve got no money
to pay for work with, and as stones an’ shells
won’t answer the purpus-seein’
there’s a sight too much of ’em-
the question is, what’s to be done?”
“Not an easy question to answer,
Nobbs,” said Dominick, “and one that requires
serious consideration. Perhaps, instead of trying
to answer it at present, we might find a temporary
expedient for the difficulty until a Committee of
the House-if I may say so-shall
investigate the whole problem.” (Hear, hear
from Malone, Redding, and Buxley, and a growl from
Jenkins.) “I would suggest, then, in the meantime,
that while Nobbs and Welsh,-who are, perhaps,
the most useful men among us-continue to
ply their trades for the benefit of the community,
every man in the community shall in turn devote a
small portion of time to working in the gardens and
building the huts of these two men.” (Hear,
hear, from a great many of the hearers, and dissenting
growls from a few.) “But,” continued Dominick,
“as there are evidently some here who are not
of an obliging disposition, and as the principle of
willing service lies at the root of all social felicity,
I would further suggest that, until our Queen is crowned
and the Government fairly set up, all such labour shall
be undertaken entirely by volunteers.”
This proposal was agreed to with boisterous
acclaim, and nearly the whole community volunteered
on the spot. While this little difficulty was
being overcome, Pauline lay sleeping in the palace
hard by, and the enthusiastic cheer with which the
conclusion of Dominick’s speech was received
awoke her.
“There-I know’d
they’d do it!” exclaimed the lady of the
bedchamber fiercely; “lie still, cushla! an’
shut your purty eyes. Maybe you’ll drop
off again!”
A humorous smile beamed in Pauline’s
countenance and twinkled in her eyes.
“Thank you, dear nurse, I’ve
had enough of sleep. Indeed, I begin to feel
so strong that I think I shall very soon be able to
undergo that-”
Pauline stopped and burst into a fit of merry laughter.
“It’s that caronation,
now, ye’ll be thinkin’ av?”
said the widow Lynch, with a reproving look.
“Faix, it’s no laughin’ matter ye’ll
find it, dear. It’s onaisy is the hid
as wears a crown.”
“Why you talk, nurse, as if
you had worn one yourself, and knew all about its
troubles.”
“Sure, av I didn’t,
me progenissors did, in Munster, before you English
konkered us an’ turned us topsy-turvy.
But nivver mind. I don’t bear no ill-will
to ‘ee, darlint, bekaise o’ the evil deeds
o’ yer forefathers. I’m of a forgivin’
disposition. An’ it’s a good quane
you’ll make, too, av ye don’t let
the men have too much o’ their own way.
But I do think that you an’ me togither’ll
be more than a match for them all. D’ee
think ye could stand the caronation now, dear?”
“Yes, I think I could.
But really, you know, I find it so hard to believe
it is not all a joke, despite the grave deputations
that have waited on me, and the serious arguments
they have used. The idea of making me-Me-a
Queen!”
Again Pauline Rigonda gave way to
merry laughter, and again did her lady of the bedchamber
administer a reproof by expressing the hope that she
might take the matter as lightly a year hence.
This pertinacious reference to possible
trouble being mingled with the contemplated honour
checked Pauline’s disposition to laugh, and she
had quite recovered her gravity when her brother Otto
entered.
“Pina, I’ve come to tell
you that they’ve fixed the coronation for Monday
next if you feel up to it, and that the new palace
is begun-a very different one, let me tell
you, from this wretched affair with its tumble-down
walls and low roof.”
“Indeed-is it so very grand?”
“Grand! I should think
it is. Why, it has got three rooms-three
rooms-think o’ that! Not countin’
a splendid out-house stuck on behind, about ten feet
square and over six feet high. Each of the three
rooms is twelve feet long by ten broad; seven feet
high, and papered with palm leaves. The middle
one is the hall of Audience and Justice-
or injustice if you like-the Council Chamber,
the House of Parliament, the mess-room, and the drawing-room.
The one on the right with two windows, from which
are magnificent views, is your Majesty’s sleeping-room
and boudoir; that on the left is the ditto of Prime
Minister Dominick and his Chief Secretary Prince Otto.
The sort of hen-coop stuck on behind is to be the
abode of the Court Physician, Dr John Marsh-whom,
by the way, you’ll have to knight-and
with whom is to be billeted the Court Jester, Man-at-Arms,
Man-of-all-work and general retainer, little Buxley.
So, you see, it’s all cut and dry, though of
course it will take some little time to finish the
palace in all its multitudinous details. Meanwhile
I have been sent to sound you as to Monday next.
Will you be able and ready?”
“If I could only get myself
to believe,” answered Pauline, as she leaned
on one elbow on her couch, and toyed contemplatively
with a fold of the shawl that covered her, “that
the people are really in earnest, I-”
“Really in earnest!” repeated
Otto. “Why, Pina, never were people more
in earnest in this world. If you’d heard
and seen them talking about it as I have, you’d
not doubt their earnestness. Besides, you have
no idea how needful you are to the community.
The fact is, it is composed of such rough and rowdy
elements-though of course there are some
respectable and well-principled fellows among them-that
nothing short of a power standing high above them
and out o’ their reach will have any influence
with them at all. There are so many strong, determined,
and self-willed men amongst them that there’s
no chance of their ever agreeing to submit to each
other; so, you see, you are a sort of good angel,
before whom they will be only too glad to bow-a
kind of superior being, whom they will reverence,
and to whom they will submit-a human safety-valve,
in short, to prevent the community from blowing up-a
species of-of-”
Here Pauline burst into another of
her irrepressible fits of laughter, and being joined
therein by Prince Otto, called forth a remonstrance
from Mrs Lynch, who declared that if that was the way
they were goin’ to manage the affairs of state,
she would be obliged to advise the settlers to change
their minds and set up a republic.
“An’ sure, mother,”
said Otto, who was a privileged favourite, “nothing
could be better, with yourself as President.”
“Go along wid ye, boy, an’
do yer dooty. Tell the people that Miss Pauline
will be ready-wind an’ weather permittin’.”
“Am I to take back that message,
Pina?” asked Otto, with a look of glee.
“Well, I suppose you may.”
It was not in the nature of things
that a coronation in the circumstances which we have
described should take place without being more or
less intermingled with the unavoidable absurdities
which mark the coronations of older and more densely
peopled lands. It was felt that as the act was
a seriously meant reality, and no mere joke, it should
be gone about and accomplished with all due solemnity
and proper ceremonial, somewhat after the pattern-as
Teddy Malone suggested-of a Lord Mayor’s
Show; a suggestion, by the way, which did not conduce
to the solemnity of the preliminary discussions.
There was one great difficulty, however,
with which the embryo nation had to contend, and this
was that not one of the community had ever seen a
coronation, or knew how the details of the matter should
be arranged.
In these circumstances an assembly
of the entire nation was convened to consider the
matter. As this convention embraced the women
(except, of course, the queen elect), it included
the babies, and as most of these were self-assertive
and well-developed in chest and throat, it was found
necessary to relegate them and the women to an outer
circle, while the men in an inner circle tackled the
problem.
The widow Lynch, being quite irrepressible
except by physical force, and even by that with difficulty,
was admitted on sufferance to the inner circle, and
took part in the discussions.
Like most large assemblies, this one
was found so unmanageable, that, after an hour or
two of hopeless wrangling, Buxley the tailor started
up with dishevelled hair and glaring eyeballs, and
uttered a yell that produced a momentary silence.
Seizing the moment, he said-
“I moves that we apint a committee
to inquire into the whole matter an’ report.”
“Hear, hear, and well said!”
shouted a multitude of voices.
“An’ I moves,”
cried Mrs Lynch, starting forward with both arms up
and all her fingers rampant, “that-”
“No, no, mother,” interrupted
Buxley, “you must second the motion.”
“Howld yer tongue, ye dirty
spalpeen! Isn’t it the second motion that
I’m puttin’? I moves that the committee
is Mr Dumnik Rig Gundy an’ Dr Marsh-”
“An’ Mister Nobbs,” shouted
a voice.
“An’ Mister Joe Binney,”
said another.
“An’ little Mister Buxley, be way
of variashun,” cried Teddy Malone.
“An’ Mistress Lynch, for a change,”
growled Jabez Jenkins.
“Hear, hear! No, no!
Hurrah! Nonsense! Howld yer tongue!
Be serious!”-gradually drowned in
a confusion of tongues with a yelling accompaniment
from infantry in the outer circle.
It was finally agreed, however, that
the arrangements for the coronation should be left
entirely to a committee composed of Dominick, Dr Marsh,
Joe Binney, and Hugh Morris-Joe being put
forward as representing the agricultural interest,
and Hugh the malcontents. Teddy Malone was added
to make an odd number, “for there’s luck
in odd numbers,” as he himself remarked on accepting
office.
Immediately after the general meeting
broke up, these five retired to the privacy of a neighbouring
palm grove, where, seated on a verdant and flowering
bank, they proceeded calmly to discuss details.
“You see, my friends,”
said Dominick, “it must be our most earnest
endeavour to carry out this important matter in a serious
and business-like manner. Already there is too
much of a spirit of levity among the people, who seem
to look at the whole affair as a sort of game or joke,
playing, as it were, at national life, whereas we actually
are an independent nation-”
“A small wan, av coorse,” murmured
Malone.
“Yes, a small one, but not the
less real on that account, so that we are entitled
to manage our own affairs, arrange our own government,
and, generally, to act according to our united will.
These islands and their surroundings are unknown-at
least they are not put down on any chart; I believe
we have discovered them. There are no inhabitants
to set up a counter claim; therefore, being entitled
to act according to our will, our appointment of a
queen to rule us-under limited powers, to
be hereafter well considered and clearly written down-is
a reality; not a mere play or semi-jest to be undone
lightly when the fancy takes us. That being so,
we must go to work with gravity and earnestness of
purpose.”
Teddy Malone, who was an impressionable
creature, here became so solemnised that his lengthening
visage and seriously wrinkled brow rendered gravity-especially
on the part of Dr Marsh-almost impossible.
Overcoming his feelings with a powerful
effort the doctor assented to what Dominick said,
and suggested that some mild sort of ceremonial should
be devised for the coronation, in order to impress
the beholders as well as to mark the event.
“That’s so,” said
Teddy Malone, “somethin’ quiet an’
orderly, like an Irish wake, or . Ah!
then ye needn’t smile, doctor. It’s
the quietest an’ most comfortin’ thing
in life is an Irish wake whin it’s gone about
properly.”
“But we don’t want comforting,
Teddy,” said Dominick, “it is rather a
subject for rejoicing.”
“Well, then, what’s to
hinder us rejoicin’ in comfort?” returned
Teddy. “At all the wakes I ivver attinded
there was more rejoicin’ than comfortin’
goin’ on; but that’s a matter of taste,
av coorse.”
“There’ll have to be a
crown o’ some sort,” remarked Hugh Morris.
“You’re right, lad,”
said Joe Binney. “It wouldn’t do
to make it o’ pasteboard, would it? P’r’aps
that ‘ud be too like playin’ at a game,
an’ tin would be little better.”
“What else can we make it of,
boys?” said Malone, “we’ve got no
goold here-worse luck! but maybe the carpenter
cud make wan o’ wood. With a lick o’
yellow paint it would look genuine.”
“Nonsense, Teddy,” said
the doctor, “don’t you see that in this
life men should always be guided by circumstances,
and act with propriety. Here we are on an island
surrounded by coral reefs, going to elect a queen;
what more appropriate than that her crown should be
made of coral.”
“The very thing, doctor,”
cried Malone, with emphasis, “och! it’s
the genius ye have! There’s all kinds
o’ coral, red and white, an’ we could
mix it up wi’ some o’ that fine-coloured
seaweed to make it purty.”
“It could be made pritty enough
without seaweed,” said Binney, “an’
it’s my notion that the women-folk would be
best at makin’ of it.”
“Right, Joe, right, so, if you
have no objection, we will leave it to them,”
said Dominick, “and now as to the ceremonial?”
“A pursession,” suggested Joe Binney.
“Just so,” said Hugh Morris, “the
very thing as was in my mind.”
“And a throne,” cried
Malone, “there couldn’t be a proper quane
widout a throne, you know. The carpenter can
make that, anyhow, for there’s wood galore on
the island-red, black, an’ white.
Yis, we must have a grand throne, cut, an’
carved, an’ mounted high, so as she’ll
have two or three steps to climb up to it.”
In regard to the procession and the
throne there was considerable difference of opinion,
but difficulties were got over and smoothed down at
last by the tact and urbanity of Dominick, to whom,
finally, the whole question of the coronation was
committed. Thus it frequently happens among
men. In the multitude of counsellors there is
wisdom enough, usually, to guide in the selection
of the fittest man to take the helm in all important
affairs.
And that reminds us that it is high
time to terminate this long digression, and guide
our readers back to the beginning of the chapter,
where we stated that the important day had at last
arrived.
Happily, in those highly favoured
climes weather has not usually to be taken much into
account. The sun arose out of the ocean’s
breast with the same unclouded beauty that had marked
his rise every morning for a week previously, and
would probably mark it for a week to come. The
sweet scents of the wooded heights floated down on
the silver strand; the sharks ruffled the surface
of the lagoon with their black fins, the birds hopped
or flew from palm-tree to mimosa-bush, and the waterfowl
went about according to taste on lazy or whistling
wings, intent on daily business, much as though nothing
unusual were “in the air.”
But it was otherwise with the human
family on Big Island. Unwonted excitement was
visible on almost every face. Bustle was in every
action. Preparations were going on all round,
and, as some members of the community were bent on
giving other members a surprise, there was more or
less of secrecy and consequent mystery in the behaviour
of every one.
By breakfast-time little Mrs Nobbs,
the blacksmith’s laughter-loving wife, had nearly
laughed herself into fits of delight at the crown,
which she assisted Mrs Welsh and the widow Lynch to
fabricate. The last had devised it, Mrs Welsh
had built it in the rough, and Mrs Nobbs had finished
it off with the pretty little wreath of red and white
branching coral that formed its apex. Apart from
taste it was a stupendous erection.
“But don’t you think that
it’s too big and heavy?” cried Mrs Nobbs,
with a shrieking giggle and clapping of her hands,
as she ran back to have a distant view of it.
“Pooh!” exclaimed Mrs
Lynch contemptuously, “too heavy? No, it’s
nothin’, my dear, to what the kings an’
quanes of Munster wore.”
“But Miss Pauline is neither
a king nor a queen of Munster, an’ I do think
it’s a bit over-heavy,” objected Mrs Welsh,
as she lifted the structure with difficulty.
“Well, ye might take off the
wreath,” was the widow’s reply.
Mrs Nobbs removed the only part of
the erection that was really pretty, but still it
was pronounced by Mrs Welsh to be too heavy, especially
for the fair and delicate brows of Pauline Rigonda.
While they were thus engaged Dr Marsh
entered the hut, where, for the sake of secrecy, the
crown had been prepared, but Dr Marsh was a privileged
man, besides he was there professionally; little Brown-eyes
was sick-not seriously, but sufficiently
so to warrant medical intervention.
“Well, what have we here, ladies?”
said the doctor blandly, “part of the throne,
eh?”
“Sure it is, in a sort of way,
for it’s the crown,” answered Mrs Lynch,
“an’ they think it’s over-heavy.”
“Not at all; by no means,”
cried the doctor heartily. “It’s
splendid. Put the wreath on-so.
Nothing could be finer. Shall I carry it up
for you? The coronation is fixed for noon, you
know, so that we may have time to finish off with
a grand feast.”
“No, no, doctor dear.
Thank ’ee kindly, but we must cover it up, so’s
not to let the people see it till the right time.”
“Well, see that you’re not late with it.”
Having caused Brown-eyes to put out
her little tongue, and felt her pulse, and nodded
his head gravely once or twice without speaking, all
of which must have been highly comforting and beneficial
to the child, the doctor went out.
Not long afterwards the people began
to assemble round the palace, in front of which a
wondrous throne had been erected. Down in a dell
behind a cliff some fifty men had assembled secretly
with the crown on a cushion in their midst.
They were headed by Dr Marsh, who had been unanimously
elected to place the crown on Pauline’s head.
In the palace Pauline was being prepared by Mrs Lynch
and Mrs Nobbs for the ceremony.
On the top of a mound close to the
palace a band of conspirators was assembled.
These conspirators were screened from view by some
thick bushes. Otto Rigonda was their ringleader,
Teddy Malone and little Buxley formed the rest of
the band. Otto had found a dead tree. Its
trunk had been hollowed by decay. He and his
fellow-conspirators had sawn it off near to the ground,
and close to the root they had drilled a touch-hole.
This huge piece of ordnance they had loaded with a
heavy charge of the ship’s gunpowder.
Otto now stood ready with a piece of slow-match at
the touch-hole, and another piece, lighted, in hand.
Suddenly, about the hour of noon,
Abel Welsh the carpenter, and Nobbs the blacksmith,
issued from the palace with two long tin implements.
Secretly, for two weeks previously, had these devoted
men retired every night to the opposite extremity
of Big Island, and frightened into fits the birds
and beasts of that region with the sounds they produced
in practising on those instruments. Applying
the trumpets to their lips, they sent forth a tremendous,
though not uniform, blast.
The surrounding crowd, who expected
something, but knew not what, replied with a cheer
not unmixed with laughter, for the two trumpets, after
the manner of asses, had to make some ineffectual preliminary
efforts before achieving a full-toned bray. An
answering note from the dell, however, repressed the
laughter and awoke curiosity. Next moment the
doctor appeared carrying the crown, and followed by
his fifty men, armed with muskets, rifles, fowling-pieces,
and revolvers. Their appearance was so realistic
and impressive that the people forgot to cheer.
At the same moment the palace door was thrown open,
and Dominick led the youthful queen to the foot of
the throne.
Poor little Pauline looked so modest
and pretty, and even timid, and withal so angelically
innocent in the simplicity of her attire, that the
people burst into an earnestly enthusiastic shout,
and began for the first time to feel that this was
no game or play, but a serious reality.
Things had been so arranged that Pina
and Dr Marsh reached the foot of the throne together.
Then the latter took the pretty coral wreath off
the huge crown, and, to widow Lynch’s felt, but
not expressed, indignation, placed that on
Pauline’s head.
“Pauline Rigonda,” he
said in a loud voice, “I have been appointed
by the people of this island to crown you, in their
name and by their authority, as Queen of Refuge Islands,
in the full belief that your innocence and regard
for truth and righteousness will be their best guarantee
that you will select as your assistants the men whom
you think best suited to aid you in the promotion
of good government.”
The serious tone of the doctor’s
voice, and the genuine shouts of satisfaction from
the people, put the poor little queen in such a flutter
that nearly all her courage forsook her, and she could
scarcely reply. Nevertheless, she had a mind
of her own.
“Doctor Marsh, and my dear people,”
she said at last, “I-I scarcely know
how to reply. You overrate me altogether; but-but,
if I rule at all, I will do so by the blessed truths
of this book (she held up a Bible); and-and
before taking a single step further I appoint as my-my
Prime Minister-if I may so call him-Joe
Binney.”
For one moment there was the silence
of amazement, for neither Dominick nor Dr Marsh knew
of Pauline’s intention. Only the widow
Lynch had been aware of her resolve. Next moment
a hilarious cheer burst from the crowd, and Teddy
Malone, from his retreat, shouted, “God bliss
the Quane!” which infused hearty laughter into
the cheer, whereupon Welsh and Nobbs, thinking the
right time had come, sent out of their tin tubes,
after a few ineffectual blurts, two terrific brays.
Fearing to be too late, one of the armed men let
off his piece, which was the signal for a grand feu
de joie.
“Now for it,” thought
the chief conspirator in the bushes, as he applied
his light to the slow-match. He thought nothing
more just then, for the slow-match proved to be rather
quick, fired the powder at once, and the monster cannon,
bursting with a hideous roar into a thousand pieces,
blew Otto through the bushes and down the mound, at
the foot of which he lay as one dead.
Consternation was on every face.
The queen, dropping her crown, sprang to his side,
Dr Marsh did the same, but Otto recovered almost immediately.
“That was a stunner!”
he said, with a confused look, putting his hand to
his head, as they helped him to rise.
Strange to say, he was none the worse
of the misadventure, but did his part nobly at the
Royal feast that followed.
That night she who had risen with
the sun as Pauline Rigonda, laid her fair young head
upon the pillow as-the Island Queen.