Walter Pieterse Part 50

In the meantime the prisoner was screaming as if he were possessed; but the two Italian police that Napoleon had brought with him could not understand a word.

The emperor himself had forgotten that he had called for orange water and was now engrossed in a military map.

"Qu' a-t-il?" he seemed to be asking the lady next to him.

Minos had begun again and was once more repeating his a.s.surance that "feelings of pleasure thrill----"

Walter noted that the grown-up members of the Holsma party did not pay the slightest attention to the play.

"If she doesn't come soon, I'm going," Mevrouw Holsma repeated.

"Perhaps she's sitting further back in the emperor's box, where we can't see her."

"I've heard that in Paris she never stays fifteen minutes in the same place. Maybe we shall find her somewhere else," remarked another.

"I am not going to wait but five minutes longer. My little Erich is worth more to me than a thousand cousins----"

"Of the king," added Holsma.

Walter had thought that they meant Femke. What, then, could be so interesting about the princess? The boxes were full of them.

At the close of the third act Mevrouw Holsma left with Uncle Sybrand, who was to return with Femke. "If she will come," he said. "For she cares nothing for such a fuss."

Walter knew better. Uncle Sybrand ought to have seen her in the "Juniper Berry." But a knight tells no tales.

Old Minos is insanely in love with Ismene, who is so beautiful and virtuous. Scylla is insanely in love with Minos, who is old and dignified. Ismene is in love with Focus, who is a hero; and, possibly, Focus loves Ismene, though he does not treat her quite gallantly. He says to her:

"Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they're odious!"

The tumult on Mount Olympus began afresh. Had the rebellious confectioner returned? All eyes were directed toward the gallery. A policeman in uniform was seen remonstrating in vain with some men on the front seat. In order to make them understand his French, or Italian, he was pulling at their arms. They were to understand that he did not want to arrest them, or kill them, but merely wanted them to give up their seats.

"Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they're odious!"

"Qu' y a-t-il encore?" asked the emperor again; and, when one of the chamberlains answered his question, he laughed heartily. Heads were together everywhere. Something interesting was going forward on Mount Olympus. People whispered and t.i.ttered and laughed outright. Their eyes were fastened on the gallery. Even the emperor stood up and leaned out of his box. But it did no good: he could not see around the corner. He was surprised at this.

The countess-palatine, however, had got to the bottom of the matter. She was exchanging telegraphic messages with someone in the background on Mount Olympus. No one was thinking of Rotgans' play.

She was greeting someone with that famous fan. Whom? The rebellious confectioner? With arms extended she was testifying that there was something extraordinary up there among that rabble.

"Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they're odious!"

The countess-palatine threw off all restraint, and laughed and laughed. After the emperor had laughed hilarity was permissible. Her pleasure was beyond her control.

I should have to have a double pen to report what Uncle Sybrand said on his return, and, at the same time, reproduce the exclamation that escaped Walter, who was looking towards the gallery with eyes and mouth wide open.

"Where is Femke?" asked Holsma.

"She didn't want to come," replied Uncle Sybrand. "Just as I said."

"There she is!" cried Walter.

"Who?"

"Femke, M'neer, Femke, Femke--that is Femke! And she----"

The girl above had taken hold of the policeman by the collar and, pus.h.i.+ng him to one side, had pressed forward to the front row. There she had seated herself on the laps of the fellows the policeman had been negotiating with in vain.

"It is Femke, M'neer. If only they don't hurt her!"

Again the emperor stood up and stared at Mount Olympus. He saw the girl with the North Holland cap and nodded to her. The countess-palatine greeted again with her fan, as if she would congratulate her on securing the seat.

"But, M'neer, it is Femke," cried Walter, amazed that he received no answer.

Even Holsma and Sybrand were surprised, but not so much so as Walter.

"Now, children," said Holsma, "you can tell your mother that we saw her." And to Walter he continued, "That girl is a relation of ours."

"Yes, Femke!"

"No, that isn't her name; and----"

"M'neer, don't I know Femke?"

That sounded quite different from what Walter had said that evening when he "denied" her.

The girl's big blue eyes, roving about the hall, suddenly fell on Walter. She bent over, looked him attentively in the face, then nodded to him and threw him a kiss.

At least, he thought it was that way; and it was that way. But everyone in the parquet thought that the kiss had been intended for him. Folk of quality were annoyed at the insolence of the peasant wench; while more "sporty" persons returned the attention.

Soon hissing was heard. The news had leaked out that Princess Erika, the cousin of the king, had dressed in the national costume to show her affection for the people.

"Don't you believe it, M'neer? I tell you that is Femke," Walter a.s.sured him with tears in his eyes.

"No, no, my boy. That girl is not Femke."

"But, she greeted me!"

"You saw the emperor greet her; and you know he would not salute a wash-girl."

That was perhaps true; but it was hard for Walter to accept it. And, on the other hand, it was just as hard for him to believe that the princess was a cousin of the Holsmas.

Again he imagined that the girl was nodding to him and motioning her lips. It looked to him as if she said: "My brother!" Walter lisped the words after her and pressed both hands to his breast.