King of Chaos by Johnston McCulley

Author:Johnston McCulley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-04-26T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XII.

WHY I WAS KING.

I HURRIED to my cabin and removed the stains of combat. Beyond a couple of bruises on the face and some skin knocked from my knuckles I had come away unscathed. Then I went to the cabin with the throne in it.

Captain William Mallard was already on duty at the door there. Michael Murphy had attended to him first of all, and there was a great strip of plaster across his forehead where the belaying-pin had broken the skin.

“I am glad to see that you escaped injury, sire,” he said.

“That I did was because I had two mighty good men to fight for me,” I assured him.

Then I entered the throne-cabin.

Lord Bellan was already there. He had placed a small table in the center of the room, and upon it lay a package wrapped in silken cloth. I immediately ascended to the throne.

“Captain Barrington has not arrived?” I asked.

“He will be here in a few minutes, sire,” answered Lord Bellan. “He had several scratches that needed attention—as I did.”

“It was a pretty fight,” I remarked. “But I disliked it, for I feared to lose one of my stanch supporters.”

“It was ended just in time,” replied the prime minister, but whether he meant Barrington was about to get the better of him, or he of Barrington, I never learned.

As he ceased speaking Barrington entered, stepped to the foot of the throne, and knelt, then retired a few paces. The yacht was under way again.

“The stains of the recent battle are cleaned away above?” I asked.

“They are, sire.”

“How about the wounded?”

“None seriously injured, sire. Two men were run through by Captain Mallard, but they will be all right in a few days. There are more broken heads than anything else.”

“Thank Heaven there will be no burials at sea,” I said. “I trust, now, that we have had an end of this nonsense. Surely every one aboard has had his fill of fighting for a few days. You understand, I presume, that Lord Bellan has given me his word of honor to tell the truth, and the whole truth, about this business. One of two things will happen—if the enterprise is lawful we will proceed with it, else we put in at the nearest port.”

“I understand perfectly, sire,” and the captain inclined his head.

I looked down at Lord Bellan.

“Now, my lord,” I said.

“Your majesty will bear with me in this explanation, I trust, and answer questions I must put to you?”

“Certainly.”

“Then I am ready. In the first place, that there may be no mistake—and I know full well there is none—you are called Carl Henderson?”

“I am,” I said,

“Your father was William Henderson?”

“He was.”

“Your mother, before her marriage, was Miss Mary Carlson?”

“That is correct.”

“Your father’s father was Carl Henderson?”

“Again you are correct; I was named for him.”

“And your great-grandfather was William Henderson, for whom your father was named?”

“Yes.”

“It is William Henderson, your great grandfather, with whom we have to deal in our talk,” he said. “Do you know anything of his history?”

“I have heard,” I replied, “that he was a pirate one hundred years ago.

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