That mysterious individual vanished early on Sunday morning saying that he would be back in time for the party, and that they were not to worry about him. They had got more or less used to his amazing changes of vehicle, but it must be admitted that they were considerably surprised when he came up the drive the next morning in a steamroller. It was, which was even more outlandish, towing a large square van - rather like a furniture van. This amazing equipage clanked up to the front door and blew off steam with a great air of satisfaction.
"What on earth – " began Quangle, looking at it with some dismay from the half tower. He had just been in the act of shaving when he had caught sight of it from the bedroom window.
"Hush!" said the Yellow Dandelion anxiously, as he descended from the driving seat. "Not so loud. It's the Royal Birthday Present. Is he up yet?"
"Well, I don't think so," said Quangle, "but I shouldn't be in the least surprised – now!" He cast his eye down the drive, "I'm sure it's a very nice present .... if a bit heavy" he concluded weakly "Hadn't you better take it round to the back or somewhere. Surely anyone who saw you must have commented ...."
"It's all right, we came down with a motor van, but it broke down on your drive. How do you mean heavy? It's a steam roller, isn't it?" he said with some bitterness, ''Why, it's good for the drive! It must be a hundred years since it last saw one"
"That's true," agreed Quangle reluctantly, and dabbing at his face with the shaving brush. "Oh, leave it there if you must."
"I'd, better take back the steam roller back, though, now I come to think of it. The men might be looking for it."
"Where did you get it?"
"It was just sitting by the side of the road. Keep me some breakfast, there's a good chap."
He unhitched the roller, and puffed off down the drive.
"Pah!" snorted Quangle with justifiable irritation. "Him and his presents. Of all the imbeciles!'" He stamped back to the 'bathroom.' "Quite idiotic!" He cut himself on the chin. "I wonder what it is?" He reached for the towel.
He worried much more in the afternoon when the Yellow Dandelion came to him to ask him if he might use the gas?
"Of course," he replied, "Use as much as you like!"
When he went down to the basement and looked at the meter he wondered now if he had been a bit rash.
About two o'clock the Yellow Dandelion came in. He had been busy all morning with something he said was secret in the farthest field away from the house, which was screened by tall trees. The King had been playing football with William, the Crown Prince, and had just come in to get something else to do. The Yellow Dandelion swept him a low bow when he ran into him in the hall and announced solemnly, but with a twinkle in his eye:
"Many Happy Returns of the Day, Your Majesty. I have a small present for you. Would you like to come to see it now?"
Richard said that they would be delighted, and when they had been told, the Prime Minister, Quangle and His Majesty came too. Quangle had. a.dreadful suspicion that it was a monster chemistry-set or something, and was not much relieved when he saw how far it was from the Towers.
"He must be expecting a pretty big bang if he wants to get as far away from the house as this," he thought grimly.
In a few moments, the Yellow Dandelion, who was leading, turned round
"Now everyone put their hands over their eyes so that each can only see the ground and the feet of the person in front of him. It's not far now."
With some excitement they dutifully obeyed, and stumbled along in single file, along the path, then over a bridge and the ditch between two fields. The Yellow Dandelion stopped. "Now for it", thought Quangle, and prepared to duck.
"All right, you can look now," declared the beneficent Dandelion, trying to sound casual.
Nothing startling happened. Quangle looked up.
A large fat round yellow balloon was bobbing at anchor in the middle of the field.
That evening, after Richard was in bed, Quangle cornered the Yellow Dandelion. The balloon had been an enormous success and the King had been thrilled to be let up into the air, right above the clouds, albeit on the end of a stout wire rope attached to a winch. The Yellow .Dandelion had gone up the last time, when Quangle had learnt how to work the winch, and pointed out all the places of interest for miles around. It was a brilliant present, and, the whole day had gone off triumphantly. One thing however still troubled Quangle.. He voiced it.
"Er, excuse me," he began. "How long does the balloon stay full? Well, I mean to say, you seem to have used. about two hundred gold crowns' worth of gas, and I was just naturally hoping – just hoping, you understand – that it wasn't going to happen every day."
"Oh, my dear chap!" said. the conscience-stricken Dandelion, "I'm so sorry. How much did you say it was?" he asked, pulling a fat blue cheque book out of his pocket.
"Nothing at all, nothing at all!" exclaimed Quangle hastily. "After .all, it was my idea. to have his birthday here. I just would rather it didn't 't happen again. 'The people from the gasworks might complain for one thing, and we can't afford cause any comment around here if we can help it, Therefore, no more steamrollers, please!"
The Yellow Dandelion returned the book to his pocket reluctantly.
"I see what you mean," said he thoughtfully. "Yes, I thought of that. I was afraid that the balloon might be a little obvious. But I didn't expect to be left in peace after tomorrow anyway, and I wanted to make sure we had a reliable means of escape if we have to get away in a hurry"
However they were left in peace until Friday. The Yellow Dandelion had been considering the revolutionaries to be more intelligent than they actually were. It was not until Friday 16th that the man came to read the meter.
"Good gracious, you have been using a lot of gas, haven't you? We were wondering why the pressure was so low," he said. "What do you do with it?"
The question might or might not have been just a trifle too casual.
''We burn it," explained Simons in a calmly friendly manner. "And a good, deal leaks out. The rats must have got at the pipes again, I think. How much did you say that would be?"
"256 gold crowns three groats and a bawbee," said the man, sounding a bit doubtful. "I - "
"Would you like a cup of tea?" asked the butler as he poured out the gold pieces. "We're just having one."
"Er, no thank you," said the man nervously, (he was rather small) "I - I - "
"That ought to be all right now. It is? Well, thank you very much. for calling. Good day!"
Gently but firmly Simons ushered him out, staggering under the weight of the coins, and shut the door before he could make any further remark.
Probably even this little incident would not have mattered had not the little man mentioned it to his wife who was an ardent revolutionary. She reported the matter to the local Council as an example of people having' too much money. The chairman was immediately suspicious as he knew that Quangle lived there and owned the place, and, of course, that he had been His Majesty's most trusted adviser. He sent up a small detachment of soldiers the next morning.
Everyone was down at breakfast when the butler rushed in to tell them that the man who lived in the gate lodge, (one of the footmen, who was sick,) had. rung up to say that some Revolutionary Militia. were coming. Quangle sprang to his feet immediately.
"I thought I told you to get rid of that telephone, Simons,"· he said. aside. "What a good thing you didn't." Then he turned and addressed the others. "We must have no panic. It will take them at least ten minutes to get here. Will everyone here but His Majesty go to his room, strip his bed, fold the blankets and lay them and the eiderdown or duvet, if they have one, on top of the mattress. Your Majesty, you will help the Queen your wife to pack all your personal articles, and. bring them and your sheets and pillowcases along to.the Coin Room as quickly as you can. That's all."
Richard, His Majesty, Her Majesty, William the Crown Prince and the Prime Minister all hurried off. Servants were already
clearing the table under Simons' direction.
"Simons, if too many fires are lit I'm afraid you'll just have to have them put out again. One or two are all right. Make sure the ashes are well soaked. I don't want any red-hot dustbins or great clouds of steam all over the place. You will have to receive them. Be as nice as possible to them. If there is anything left lying just say I must have forgotten it last time I was down. Try to make them laugh a bit, if you can. They'll look less hard then. And if they try to take things or break them up, say that they are the property of the former Earl. After all he is still a member of the Revolutionary Council."
He stopped. Simons was already giving the necessary orders and the tablecloth was being brushed and removed.
"Oh, and Simons" he said suddenly, just as he was going through the door. "If you do happen to be arrested, the Yellow Dandelion will get you out, never fear."
He rushed up the stairs quickly, thinking. In a few minutes he had folded his blankets. He left a few things scattered on the dressing table – it made it look better, seeing that it was his house and he had been living in it not long before. Then he rushed along to the Coin Room, where when the operation of the door of the secret passage had been explained to 'Her Majesty, they all went through the cupboard as fast as possible. Quangle was last. He looked round to make sure all was well. It was. In a few moments he too was in the secret corridor. The others had made themselves comfortable on the stone and wooden steps, all taking the greatest care with the trapdoor.
An hour passed.
Quangle, seated with his back to the panelling, heard a murmur of voices in His Majesty's bedroom. He put his ear to the wall.
" ... is the spare room," he heard Simons' voice explaining. "This us the one we use mostly for visitors. The last person we had here was the Captain of the 'SS Tubby' – a very nice gentleman he was, but he was an awful nuisance. Do you know, being a nautical gentleman he just shouted when he wanted anything and never used 'the bell at all? One morning he called so loud that he blew his false teeth out on the floor."
There was a roar of laughter at this. Evidently Simons had got on the right side the search party and all was going well. He heard them going out of the room and turned round to His Majesty. How it happened he was never quite sure afterwards, but there was a slight click and a. large piece of panelling slid back so that he all but overbalanced and fell about eight feet. to the floor of the spare room. Simons was just closing the door behind the soldiers; who fortunately were already out, but their eyes met. Quangle saw no sign of surprise on the face of the well trained butler. He slid back the panel With his fingers and sat quaking at the narrow escape.
Another half-hour passed.
Again Quangle heard a murmur, but this time it was in the Coin Room.
He got another shock, but it was a pleasant one, when he realised they had not even looked into the cupboard, and that they, were already on their up to the attics and tower rooms. Indeed all was going well.
The butler was holding them in fits of laughter with a whole succession of jokes as they climbed the attic stairs. , He had kept all his best ones for the end. and the search went off ,without a hitch. He had just. finished the last one and they were turning to go down the stairs again, when the Captain of the troop asked, halting suddenly.
"By the way, you did have a little trouble with a. gas leak here, didn't you.? Would you mind showing me where it was? I'm. sorry to trouble you, but orders are orders ...."
The butler was considerably taken aback, but managed to keep the friendly smile on his face. His wits worked rapidly. They had to.
"The gas leak?'" he repeated lightly, "Of course you may. . But it has since been repaired and the place is under the floor-boards I'm afraid We'd have to lift them."
"Oh, my men will do that in a moment. Here; help with this linoleum" he ordered one of the others.
“I was just pulling out a match to light my pipe when I caught the smell of gas. Very strong it was too. It might have made quite a big bang." The soldiers were lifting the linoleum.
"It's under the new floor-board. It's not very new really. only everything in this house is so very old...."
There was indeed a new floor-board.
“Well, that seems all right so far," said the Captain. “I'll just'have it up if you don't mind. Here Tom, you know a bit about this sort of thing!"
Tom, a heavily-built man, came forward with a mattock, and' in a few seconds there was a slight cracking sound.
“We had to put in a new copper pipe.” the butler explained easily "It was the rats, you know, that had got at the other one. How anything can eat lead beats me!"
There was a louder crack and a splitting of, wood. The board was raised until it looked like the jaw of a. crocodile. All bent forward eagerly. Simons had a fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach. What if the copper pipe was not there? But it had to be there. A new pipe had been put in only a couple of years before to supply the front room. And surely it was a copper one?
"You're right" said the Captain, "Replace the board."
Still wondering how much relief his face had showed (which was precisely none) the butler ushered his unwelcome guests out twenty minutes later and went up to tell His Majesty and the others that the coast was clear.
***********
Richard V reigned for 56 days.....
This was a considerable surprise to Quangle, who had never really thought that they could altogether get away with it. But after that visit no one else troubled them for some time. The captain, delighted at having been well treated, gave a good report, and even, as Simons had hoped be would, passed on the information that the ex-King was supposed to be in Rugglia. It got as far as the Baron himself, who was annoyed to know that he had escaped but glad all the same that he was so far away. He was not greatly troubled by the thought of His Majesty anyway – he was far more worried about Richard.
His plans were working perfectly.
People could hardly be excited about a King whom they never saw and of whose existence they were increasingly doubtful. They would much rather have a king who really existed, 'however unpleasant he might be. Agents went round streets, shops, markets, theatres, cinemas, warehouses, factories, railway stations, laboratories, schools, tram depots, bus stops, gasworks, filter beds, power stations, department stores, airports, naval bases, gun emplacements and garages instilling enthusiasm for the Baron into staunchly open-minded Flopdudlians. Anyone presenting socks to the Grand-Duchess's Collection received in exchange a full length cabinet photograph of the Baron in colour. Even souvenirs “of the Revolution" were made in large numbers, all bearing a hideous three-quarter face portrait of the Baron exhibiting his new false teeth in a grin which made him look like a yawning hippopotamus with a headache. The Grand Duchess did not know this, of course - she thought they were getting a portrait of Richard.
Even if the photograph was hastily thrown into the dustbin and the lid tied down to keep it from getting out again, as the Baron said happily to his secretary: “It keeps my Face in the minds of my People". And in another month or so he would try a little coup d’etat.
There was only one snag -– Richard. If he were to turn up all would be ruined. He, the Baron, could manage the Council and virtually ruled the country already, but if Richard was to return he could be ruined, for he had no really great popularity . His family was not well known, and the Flopdudlians pay a lot of attention to family. He confided many of these things to his new secretary – a young man with a ready smile, a soothing tongue, a quick brain and a winning manner. Quite how this had come about, the Baron would have found it difficult to say. Perhaps he might have said that the young man seemed to understand him. How true! He understood just what a creep he was!
On this sunny morning in June the Baron was sitting in a chair by the window in his study, smoking a long Havana-type cigar with considerable enjoyment. looking out over the city, and dreaming of his crown,.when there came a. tap
on the door.
“H’rein!” he called. It is the German for “Come in!”
His secretarv entered. Reader, blench not so! Cease to quake in your boots! Yes, it is indeed the Yellow Dandelion wearing one of his best disguises! Ah; you thought so all the time, did you? The winning manner, the quick brain, they seemed familiar, did they not? Well, never mind. To the Baron it is only his excellent secretary Johann Pifflemeyer. No need to worry.
“Excuse me, Your Serene Transparency!" said the linguistic Dandelion in magnificently idiomatic German. "There is another report just in, that the ‘Pretender’ has just been seen walking through the main street of Angernade with his adviser, the false and treacherous lord of Dishwater'!" He handed the Baron a large blue paper. It had taken him two hours to forge, and he didn't want his effort wasted. However the Baron merely glanced at it and handed it back. “And I’ve placed the order for Your Highness's crown in a jeweller in Gugglia through one of my friends . I am sure it will fit beautifully, Your Highness has such a well-shaped head.”
"Of course, of course,“ said 'the Baron, greatly flattered at this, but waving such trifles aside for more serious things. "But what news of the present monarch?“
“None, I fear,” apologised ’Johann’ in a troubled tone. “It seems he may be dead.”
“He must be dead, even if he needs assistance," said the Baron, trying to sound both bored and ruthless, but actually sounding as if he had a sharp pain in his well-padded midriff. ‘Johann's’ shoulders shook slightly but his face remained straight. The Baron took silence for assent.