All these new titles, it should be said, were, so far as the courtiers
were concerned, a fruitful source of discontent. There were black looks
and mutinous whispers. The laws of precedence were being disturbed, and
the courtiers did not like it. It jars a man who for years has had his
social position all cut and dried--a man, to take an instance at
random, who, as Second Deputy Shiner of the Royal Hunting Boots, knows
that his place is just below the Keeper of the Eel-Hounds and just
above the Second Tenor of the Corps of Minstrels--it jars him, we say,
to find suddenly that he has got to go down a step in favour of the
Hereditary Bearer of the King's Baffy.
But it was from the priesthood that the real, serious opposition was to
be expected. And the priests of the sixty-seven gods of Oom were up in
arms. As the white-bearded High Priest of Hec, who by virtue of his
office was generally regarded as leader of the guild, remarked in a
glowing speech at an extraordinary meeting of the Priests' Equity
Association, he had always set his face against the principle of the
Closed Shop hitherto, but there were moments when every thinking man
had to admit that enough was sufficient, and it was his opinion that
such a moment had now arrived. The cheers which greeted the words
showed how correctly he had voiced popular sentiment.
* * * * *
Of all those who had listened to the High Priest's speech, none had
listened more intently than the King's half-brother, Ascobaruch. A
sinister, disappointed man, this Ascobaruch, with mean eyes and a
crafty smile. All his life he had been consumed with ambition, and
until now it had looked as though he must go to his grave with this
ambition unfulfilled. All his life he had wanted to be King of Oom, and
now he began to see daylight. He was sufficiently versed in Court
intrigues to be aware that the priests were the party that really
counted, the source from which all successful revolutions sprang. And
of all the priests the one that mattered most was the venerable High
Priest of Hec.
It was to this prelate, therefore, that Ascobaruch made his way at the
close of the proceedings. The meeting had dispersed after passing a
unanimous vote of censure on King Merolchazzar, and the High Priest was
refreshing himself in the vestry--for the meeting had taken place in
the Temple of Hec--with a small milk and honey.
'Some speech!' began Ascobaruch in his unpleasant, crafty way. None
knew better than he the art of appealing to human vanity.
The High Priest was plainly gratified.
'Oh, I don't know,' he said, modestly.
'Yessir!' said Ascobaruch. 'Considerable oration! What I can never
understand is how you think up all these things to say. I couldn't do
it if you paid me. The other night I had to propose the Visitors at the
Old Alumni dinner of Oom University, and my mind seemed to go all
blank. But you just stand up and the words come fluttering out of you
like bees out of a barn. I simply cannot understand it. The thing gets
past me.'
'Oh, it's just a knack.'
'A divine gift, I should call it.'
