Rufus Choate

“ The night air was heavy with the scent of the night-blossoming stock, in the flowerbed, immediately below the verandah rail. The nightingales sang as if at the climax of their rivalry for mastery. A huge owl lumbered, rather than flew, across the shadowy garden.
For a moment, it seemed to the King, as if the verandah, the house, the garden, and even the night sky, stood away from them, receded, and that he and Judith were alone, together, in infinite space. ”

“ As the carriage moved forward, the Duke dropped his left hand on to the seat, between the King and himself.
"Take my hand. Grip it, sir!" he said. "I am real! Do not hesitate, sir. We are quite unobserved. A time comes in most men's lives when they need—the grip of the hand of a friend. I am an old man, sir; old enough to be your father. When you take my hand, it is as if you reached out and gripped your father's hand—
"I would have spared you all this, I would have spared you the ordeal of the wild enthusiasm which awaits you, a little further on, if it had been possible, sir. ”

“ Button, flushed and rosy, stirred in his sleep, and flung one small arm out of bed, across the snow-white counterpane. Bill, cherubic and chubby, heroically lying on, lest he should suck, his thumb, never moved.
"They have had a wonderful day," Judith whispered. "We ran our flag up, this morning, in honour of the King, and I tried to make them understand about the Coronation. Bill wanted to know if Uncle Alfred would be in the procession! They would do nothing else for the rest of the day, but play at being King. ”

“ Uncle Bond was there.
Judith was there.
The Imps were there.
And so was—the Duke.
A momentary silence followed the King's appearance on the verandah.
Then the Imps ran forward to greet him.
"We are all to have breakfast together, Uncle Alfred," Button announced.
"And we've been waiting for you—for ever so long," Bill complained.
The King caught them up, in turn, and shook them, in mid-air, as was his wont.
"We all like your friend very much," Bill whispered. "He's been here a long, long time—quite twenty minutes!"
"He came in a big car, bigger than Uncle's," Button supplemented. ”

“ It has been give, give, give, all the time, on your side. And take, take, take, all the time, on mine. And I can make no return—"
"The giving all on our side! You have made no return!" Judith cried. "It isn't true, Alfred. You know it isn't true! But, even if it were true—a woman loves a man who allows her to give to him."
"Isn't that just the trouble?" the King exclaimed, exasperated by the conflict of feeling within him into a flash of unusual insight.
Then the parlour-maid re-entered the room.
Hard on the heels of the parlour-maid, Uncle Bond made his appearance. ”

“ The King at once pulled up the car, well on the Paradise side of the post.
Uncle Bond threw off his unusual abstraction, in a moment, and scrambled, nimbly enough, out of the car.
The little man tested the car door carefully, to make sure that he had fastened it securely behind him.
Then he looked up at the King, with an odd, provocative twinkle in his mischievous, spectacled eyes.
"If I were you, Alfred, I should fight for my place in the procession, if necessary," he remarked. "Fight for your place, if necessary, my boy! After all, you are young, and they have just given you—promotion. ”

“ He had a good deal of time to make up. But he could do it. He opened out the car, now, to its fullest extent. The powerful engine responded, at once, to his touch, and the car shot forward—out of Paradise into Hades!
For once the King was unconscious of this transition. He was thinking of the procession, of Uncle Bond, of Judith, and of himself; their seats at the inn window; his place in the files. Must the whole width of the market-place always lie between them? ”

“ Judith murmured. "I am glad, and proud, that you have been very busy; that they have given you—promotion; that you serve—the King! And, tonight, you are wearing his colours?"
As she spoke, she put out her hand, and deftly rearranged the long ribbons of the red, white, and blue rosette, which the audacious Doris had pinned to his coat, earlier in the night.
"And, tonight, I am wearing his colours," the King replied. "When the storm, that they say is coming, really breaks, the King will need all his friends." ”

“ Judith was alone to receive you. Such circumstances are liable to be misunderstood, don't you think? And, although we are all apt to overlook the fact, we are all—human. A wise man avoids, for his own sake, and for the sake of others—certain provocations. 'The prudent man forseeth the evil'—but the quotation would be lost on you. A text for my sermon!"
The King had, automatically, let out the car, in response to Uncle Bond's direction. He applied all his brakes, and slowed the car down again now, on his own behalf. ”

“ No! No! No!" Button carolled gleefully, abandoning Joshua's mouth, and converting the nursery rhyme into an action song of considerable vigour.
Suddenly, Joshua succumbed. Lowering his head before the storm, he moved forward.
Old Jevons, who had been waiting patiently for this capitulation, guided the machine.
"It's a hard world for donkeys!" the King moralized at the window. "But, once harnessed, I suppose—one has to pull the machine."
It was of himself that he was thinking!
Then Judith appeared in the garden, stepping down from the verandah, and sauntering across the lawn. ”

“ Judith murmured. "But when he went to sea, he was happy?"
"The sea knocked a lot of nonsense out of me," the King replied. "At sea, a man is a man, and nothing else. When I had learnt that, I was happy."
Then the Imps burst in upon them, and the play was at an end.
Judith drove the Imps before her, into the house. ”

“ Astonishment is good for the young. It is the only means we old fogies have left, nowadays, of keeping you youngsters properly humble. The Imps have taught me that! Jump in! I want to talk to you."
The King looked at the corpulent little man, and laughed.
"I was feeling absurdly disappointed, because I hadn't seen you, Uncle Bond," he confessed.
Putting on his thick leather motor coat, and adjusting his goggles, which the little man had placed in readiness for him, on the vacant seat at the steering wheel, the King got into the car, and started the engine. ”

“ Has he any chance of escape? It is the procession that controls us, I think, not we who control the procession. What do you think? Can a man escape? Can any of us ever really choose our place in the files?"
Uncle Bond chuckled delightedly.
"Judith told me that they had been overworking you, my boy. Judith, as usual, was right," he remarked. "You appear to me to be in grave danger of becoming most satisfactorily morbid. Liver! Almost certainly liver! But about this procession of yours. 'Pon my soul, the figure, the fancy, is not unworthy of 'Cynthia' herself. ”

“ This was not the reception that he had anticipated.
"No. I have not had lunch, Uncle Bond," he admitted.
"Good!" the little man chuckled. "You must be hungry. I am. And you look tired. You can pull the table out, and find a couple of chairs, while I am away, if you like. Glasses—and a corkscrew!"
He moved, as he spoke, towards the door.
But, by the door, he paused.
"By the way, Alfred, there is a book on the window sill, beside the sofa, which may interest you," he remarked.
Then he darted out of the room—
Mechanically, the King crossed the room to the luncheon table. ”

“ It is the half-hearted men, it is the half-hearted women, who fail. The best places in the procession—whether they are at the head or the tail, and where the head and the tail are, who knows?—like the best seats at the inn windows, in the background, fall to the men, fall to the women, who know what they want, who know their own mind.
"But, now, I must walk!"
And with that, and with no other leave-taking, Uncle Bond swung round abruptly, and set off, with surprising swiftness, for so small, and so corpulent a man, straight back along the road.
Automatically, the King restarted the car. ”

“ Button explained. "He says he doesn't think the King likes being King very much. He can't do what he likes, just as you said. They won't let him wear his sword even, and he can't fight for himself. He has to let other people fight for him. I'm glad I'm not King. I'd rather be a sailor, and wear daddy's sword."
The King put Bill down off his knee, and stood up hastily, glad to avoid, in this way, meeting Judith's glance—
"Picaback! Picaback!" Bill cried.
"A race!" Button shouted.
It was the Imps' hour for play. ”

“ Button and Bill must never know, Judith and Uncle Bond must never know, his real identity.
At that moment, Judith knocked at the bedroom door.
"Good morning, Alfred. The bathroom is yours, and the Imps, if you don't mind having them with you, and letting them have a splash," she called out cheerily. "But no flood in the passage, this morning, mind! Breakfast in half an hour, on the verandah. We shall be by ourselves. Uncle Bond has had another bad night. 'Cynthia' has failed him again. He daren't face eggs and bacon in public, he says. Hurry up, Imps. ”

“ Well, it's one night in a lifetime, as you might say, isn't it, sir? And, beyond holding up the traffic, there's no harm in the people—they're just lively, that's all. There'll be a good many of them will lie in late, when they do get to bed, in the morning, I'm thinking. But the tiredest man, in all London, this night, and in the whole Empire, too, if it comes to that, I should think must be the King himself, God bless him! Did you get a good view of him, yourself, sir? I was in duty in Whitehall for the procession, and barring a yard or two, I was as close to him then, as I am, now, to you. ”

“ Choate were never disturbed by intimate acquaintance. Many distinguished persons become insignificant upon close inspection. With Mr. Choate those who knew him best, estimated him most highly. He had no malice in his nature, and there was a genial quality in his sharpest sallies of wit.
In the Convention we had end seats. Mr. Choate occupied the seat immediately in front of me. Thus I had an opportunity for two months to observe his ways, and to enjoy his conversation. Great as were his speeches, they did not transcend his exhibitions of power in private conversation. ”

“ You men in that—place," she stumbled over the word and then accepted it—"discussed the ideal republic. You made it, by discussing it."
"Yes," said Choate, in voice of curious circumspection as if he hardly knew what form even of eulogy might hurt, "it was an astonishing piece of business. You can't expect people not to notice a thing like that."
"I can't help it," said Jeff. ”

“ CHAPTER XII
climax is always a difficult business to handle," Uncle Bond continued, sitting down at the table and beginning his attack on the cold chicken. "It is easy enough to work up to. 'Cynthia' never has any trouble in getting in the necessary punch at the end of her instalments. But to carry on, after the punch, to get the next instalment going—that is a very different affair. In nine cases out of ten, that gives even 'Cynthia' herself a lot of trouble. My dear boy, put down that admirable volume—it is in your left hand!—and, I repeat myself, get the cork out of that bottle! ”

“ Instinctively, he had resumed his place in the procession.
It had been just as Judith had said. The shadow thrown by his Royal rank had been waiting for him there in the lane, behind him—
"That was battalion headquarters, the Coldstreams, Colonel Varney Wilson in command," the Duke explained. "It is they who have been responsible for your safety, during the last twenty-four hours, sir."
The King nodded; but made no other reply.
The Duke shot one of his shrewd, penetrating glances at the King. Then the old statesman leant far back in his corner in the luxuriously upholstered car. ”

“ Judith finds it necessary to talk to the Stores! This morning, while 'Cynthia' and I were hard at it, the telephone bell rang violently. The instrument, by the way, is in the pantry. I ignored the summons. I hoped the girl at the Exchange would soon grow weary. She persisted. In the end, 'Cynthia' retired hurt, and I descended the staircase.
"A wonderful instrument! Not the telephone. The human voice. There are voices which rivet the attention at once—even on the telephone. This was one of them—
"'Northborough is speaking. Is that you Bond? Alfred York is motoring down to see you. ”

“ It was not until the car had swung out of the lane, and headed for London, was sweeping down the broad, and, at this comparatively early hour of the morning, empty, Great North Road, that Uncle Bond spoke.
"We have not seen very much of you, lately, my boy," he remarked. "You have been busy, no doubt. In the Service, you young men are not your own masters, of course. And Judith tells me that they have even made the mistake of giving you—promotion. I have been wondering if that—promotion—is likely to make your visits to us more difficult, and so rarer? ”

“ The old battered and splashed doors are perhaps more unsightly than before; but the statues look down with the same benignity upon the crowd of cabs and omnibuses, and the never-ending tide of humanity which flows beneath them, as they did upon the Rake's Progress, so many years ago. The sacrilegious commissioners of streets long to get at it with their crows and picks, but the shade of Dr. Johnson watches over the barrier of his earthly home. It is not an ornamental affair, to be sure, and it would be difficult for Mr. Choate, even, to defend it against the charge of being an obstruction ”

“ It's wonderful how he keeps it up, isn't it? And, every now and then, in spite of 'Cynthia,' he slips in something, without knowing it, which only James Bond could have written. All sorts of unexpected people read him, you know. He says it is the name, and not the stuff, that does the trick. I think that it is the stuff. People like romance. Uncle Bond gives it to them."
At that moment, the sleep, of which the King stood in such dire need, long overdue as it was, touched his eyelids.
Judith shot out her arm, and skilfully retrieved the half empty glass, which all but fell from his hand. ”