or recall. The King,
with his coat on the wrong way, went towards the streets that were
awaiting him, and the old Kensington Palace which was the Royal
residence. As he passed small groups of men, the groups turned into
crowds, and gave forth sounds which seemed strange in welcoming an
autocrat. Barker walked behind, his brain reeling, and, as the crowds
grew thicker and thicker, the sounds became more and more unusual. And
when he had reached the great market-place opposite the church,
Barker knew that he had reached it, though he was roods behind,
because a cry went up such as had never before greeted any of the
kings of the earth.

BOOK II

CHAPTER I--_The Charter of the Cities_

Lambert was standing bewildered outside the door of the King's
apartments amid the scurry of astonishment and ridicule. He was just
passing out into the street, in a dazed manner, when James Barker
dashed by him.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To stop all this foolery, of course," replied Barker; and he
disappeared into the room.

He entered it headlong, slamming the door, and slapping his
incomparable silk hat on the table. His mouth opened, but before he
could speak, the King said--

"Your hat, if you please."

Fidgetting with his fingers, and scarcely knowing what he was doing,
the young politician held it out.

The King placed it on his own chair, and sat on it.

"A quaint old custom," he explained, smiling above the ruins. "When
the King receives the representatives of the House of Barker, the hat
of the latter is immediately destroyed in this manner. It represents
the absolute finality of the act of homage expressed in the removal
of it. It declares that never until that hat shall once more appear
upon your head (a contingency which I firmly believe to be remote)
shall the House of Barker rebel against the Crown of England."

Barker stood with clenched fist, and shaking lip.

"Your jokes," he began, "and my property--" and then exploded with an
oath, and stopped again.

"Continue, continue," said the King, waving his hands.

"What does it all mean?" cried the other, with a gesture of passionate
rationality. "Are you mad?"

"Not in the least," replied the King, pleasantly. "Madmen are always
serious; they go mad from lack of humour. You are looking serious
yourself, James."

"Why can't you keep it to your own private life?" expostulated the
other. "You've got plenty of money, and plenty of hous