Oddly enough, too, a new legend or prophecy has arisen in the land in that unaccountable way in which such things do arise among barbarous and semi-civilized people, blowing, like the wind, no man knows whence. According to this saying, so long as the old Zulu sits there, looking down the stairway he defended when alive, so long will the new House of the Stairway, springing from the union of the Englishman and Nyleptha, endure and flourish; but when he is taken from thence, or when, ages after, his bones at last crumble into dust, the House will fall, and the Stairway shall fall, and the nation of the Zu-Vendi shall cease to be a nation.
XXIII
I Have Spoken
It was a week after Nyleptha’s visit, when I had begun to get about a little in the middle of the day, that a message came to me from Sir Henry to say that Sorais would be brought before them in the Queen’s first antechamber at midday, and requesting my attendance if possible. Accordingly, greatly drawn by curiosity to see this unhappy woman once more, I made shift, with the help of that kind little fellow Alphonse, who is a perfect treasure to me, and that of another waiting-man, to reach the antechamber. I got there, indeed, before anybody else, except a few of the great Court officials who had been bidden to be present, but I had scarcely seated myself before Sorais was brought in by a party of guards, looking as beautiful and defiant as ever, but with a worn expression on her proud face. She was, as usual, dressed in her royal “kaf,” emblazoned with the emblem of the Sun, and in her right hand she still held the toy spear of silver. A pang of admiration and pity went through me as I looked at her, and struggling to my feet I bowed deeply, at the same time expressing my sorrow that I was not able, owing to my condition, to remain standing before her.
She coloured a little and then laughed bitterly. “Thou dost forget, Macumazahn,” she said, “I am no more a queen, save in blood; I am an outcast and a prisoner, one whom all men should scorn, and none show deference to.”
“At least,” I replied, “thou art still a lady, and therefore one to whom deference is due. Also, thou art in an evil case, and therefore it is doubly due.”
“Ah!” she answered, with a little laugh, “thou dost forget that I would have wrapped thee in a sheet of gold and hung thee to the angel’s trumpet at the topmost pinnacle of the temple.”
“No,” I answered, “I assure thee that I forgot it not; indeed, I often thought of it when it seemed to me that the battle of the Pass was turning against us; but the trumpet is there, and I am still here, though perchance not for long, so why talk of it now?”
“Ah!” she went on, “the battle! the battle! Oh, would that I were once more a queen, if only for one little hour, and I would take such a vengeance on those accursed jackals who deserted me in my need, that it should only be spoken of in whispers; those women, those pigeon-hearted half-breeds who suffered themselves to be overcome!” and she choked in her wrath.
“Ay, and that little coward beside thee,” she went on, pointing at Alphonse with the silver spear, whereat he looked very uncomfortable; “he escaped and betrayed my plans. I tried to make a general of him, telling the soldiers it was Bougwan, and to scourge valour into him” (here Alphonse shivered at some unhappy recollection), “but it was of no avail. He hid beneath a banner in my tent and thus overheard my plans. I would that I had slain him, but, alas! I held my hand. And thou, Macumazahn, I have heard of what thou didst; thou art a brave man, and hast a loyal heart. And the black one too, ah, he was a man. I would fain have seen him hurl Nasta from the stairway.”
“Thou art a strange woman, Sorais,” I said; “I pray thee now plead with the Queen Nyleptha, that perchance she may show mercy unto thee.”
She laughed out loud. “I plead for mercy!” she said and at that moment the Queen entered, accompanied by Sir Henry and Good, and took her seat with an impassive face. As for poor Good, he looked intensely ill at ease.
“Greeting, Sorais!” said Nyleptha, after a short pause. “Thou hast rent the kingdom like a rag, thou hast put thousands of my people to the sword, thou hast twice basely plotted to destroy my life by murder, thou hast sworn to slay my lord and his companions and to hurl me from the Stairway. What hast thou to say why thou shouldst not die? Speak, O Sorais!”
“Methinks my sister the Queen hath forgotten the chief count of the indictment,” answered Sorais in her slow musical tones.
