CHAPTER 15
‘Which of you have done this?’ demanded Garganey.
Certain changes had taken place during my brief absence. I’d only been away for one day yet in that time it appeared Garganey had seized power. He was standing at the far side of the room wearing the ceremonial crown. Everyone else was seated around the table, and I assumed I’d walked into an emergency meeting of the cabinet. It was only chance that had brought me here in the first place. I’d arrived home quite late in the evening and gone straight to bed. The following morning around ten o’clock I went to call on Whimbrel but found the observatory deserted. Guessing he must have gone to see Brambling about a replacement sixpence, I’d then proceeded to the counting house. Nobody was there either, so next I headed for the library. Maybe, I thought, Whimbrel or Brambling had some fact to look up in one of the books. It was Shrike who told me everyone was at the cabinet meeting. He’d been put temporarily in charge of the library and was plainly making the most of his new-found responsibility. I discovered him lounging in Smew’s comfortable chair by the large bay window. True enough, he jumped to his feet the instant he saw me. Nevertheless, it was obvious he’d been idling.
The clock had finished striking ten when I left the library and headed for the cabinet room. Now I felt most annoyed. Why, I wanted to know, had I not been informed of the situation?
I happened to arrive just as Whimbrel was going in. Normally I would have hailed him, but this morning I wasn’t in the mood. Surely he of all people could have told me what was happening. He was supposed to be a friend. Then again, he’d recently been testing this so-called friendship to the limit. For a start he’d never bothered to repay the sixpence I’d lent him. Oh, I know he wasn’t going to run away with it; he was only around the corner and, besides, he needed the sixpence more than I did. Yet it was the principle that mattered: at least he could have offered to repay it. Maybe that was why he spent more time with Brambling than with me. Another flaw had been revealed on the evening we visited the Maypole. On that occasion Whimbrel had invited Sanderling and me back to the observatory for a ‘bottle or two’ as he put it. Quite reasonably we’d both taken this to mean a bottle or two of fine wine, not dandelion-and-burdock as it turned out to be. I recalled that Sanderling had been particularly disappointed. Nor did I like the way Whimbrel and Brambling had conjectured that I was the emperor in disguise. They’d patently discussed me as if I was an exhibit in a display cabinet. Finally, of course, Whimbrel had a marked tendency to hog the telescope instead of sharing it with other people.
I watched as he entered the cabinet room. Then, after waiting a moment, I followed him inside. I was still taking my seat when Garganey uttered his declamation.
‘Which of you have done this?’ he said again.
‘Done what?’ I asked.
I noticed that both Wryneck and Smew were staring at me intently. They had the same look about them as when I’d arrived unexpectedly at teatime a few days before. Indeed, they seemed slightly taken aback. Then I realised that it would have probably suited the pair of them if I’d missed the cabinet meeting. After all, I was the only person who knew about their sleight of hand.
Or was I?
I glanced at my colleagues, one by one, and tried to decide who knew what. Then it occurred to me that Garganey must have seized power under this very pretext. He certainly looked enraged.
‘Which of you have done this?’ he repeated for the third time.
‘What, my good lord?’ said Wryneck.
At last, I thought, Wryneck was beginning to face up to the questions. If only Smew would break his stony silence then the whole issue could most likely be sorted out before lunch. What did he hope to gain by prolonging the deceit?
‘Thou canst not say I did it,’ declared Garganey.
‘Did what?’ I asked.
Garganey sat down at the table, removed the crown and put his head in his hands.
‘It’s no good,’ he said. ‘I can’t do it any longer. I’ve tried my best and I’ve obviously failed.’
‘Well, shall I do it then?’ offered Smew.
‘If you like,’ said Garganey. ‘You’ve coveted the crown long enough. You may as well take it for yourself.’
‘The crown is no more than a hollow golden ring,’ rejoined Smew, ‘and kingship a mere feather in a man’s cap.’
A murmur of assent passed around the table.
‘All the same,’ I said, ‘someone’s got to wear the crown, haven’t they?’
‘Naturally,’ said Wryneck.
His voice was wary. Smew said nothing.
‘I mean to say,’ I continued, ‘you can’t have an empire without an emperor. It’s even more ridiculous than an empire without any ships.’
‘Or an empire without a proper telescope,’ added Whimbrel.
‘Precisely,’ I said.
I was pleasantly surprised by Whimbrel’s sudden ride to my rescue. I’d swum into much deeper water than I intended and I almost regretted speaking out. Still, it was too late now. The unclaimed crown remained at the centre of the table. Neither Wryneck, nor Smew, nor Garganey seemed prepared to pursue the matter any further. Not for the moment at least. In the event it was Brambling who spoke next.
‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘did you say without an emperor?’
‘Yes,’ I affirmed, ‘I did.’
Again I surveyed the faces around the table. All my colleagues were apparently engaged in thoughts of their own. Dotterel was studying his textbook closely; Whimbrel was gazing at the clock; Garganey, Wryneck and Smew were all looking at the ceremonial crown; Sanderling was staring vaguely at a portrait of a former emperor; and Brambling was peering at me. I was about to attempt some kind of explanation when Wryneck broke the silence.
‘It seems the bird has flown the nest,’ he announced.
‘Oh,’ said Brambling, ‘I see.’
‘You mean he’s not here?’ said Whimbrel.
‘Correct.’
‘Does this have anything to do with the dancing girls,’ enquired Sanderling, ‘the ones who became great with child?’
‘It’s quite possible,’ replied Wryneck.
‘I thought as much,’ said Sanderling.
‘Well, Wryneck,’ I remarked, ‘you should be congratulated on your opacity.’
‘Thank you,’ he said.
Dotterel glanced up from his book.
‘Well if the bird’s flown the nest,’ he said, ‘why on earth did he bother issuing those preposterous edicts?’
‘The folly of youth,’ said Smew.
‘More to the point,’ I said, ‘how are we going to resolve the succession?’
‘There’s only one answer,’ said Wryneck.
‘Which is?’
‘A regency.’
Without a further word he raised the crown and placed it on Smew’s head.