REALMAH’S DANGER FROM CONSPIRACIES.

Personal enemies are very rare. Taking the population of the world at one thousand millions, it is true that there are at least one thousand millions of personal enemies; but then, as we must consider each man as his own chief personal enemy, this calculation will not prove much.

It may be said of Realmah that, with the exception of himself, he had no personal enemy, unless, indeed, it was the witch Potochee; but, unfortunately, there were many persons who were much injured, or fancied they were, by the advent of Realmah to power. For example, there were near relatives of the deposed chieftains who had hopes of being elected chiefs of the North, of the South, or of the West, if the old form of government were ever re-established. Besides, there were those who had been attendants at these little courts; and Realmah, though very anxious to do so, had not been able to find room for all these men at his own court. There were, therefore, several persons who, though not particularly disliking the man Realmah, earnestly desired the death of the King. These men formed a band of conspirators, and for several years after Realmah came to the throne he was exposed to their machinations.

Realmah was a singularly fearless man, possessing all that fearlessness which often belongs to sickly, feeble people, and which seems to be given to them by kind Nature as, in some measure, a compensation for their deficiency in physical force.

His foster-brother Omki, however, was anything but fearless, and was indeed a very suspicious person, always upon the look-out for conspiracies against his beloved Realmah. A casual remark made to him by a woman of rank in the northern quarter of the city strengthened these suspicions. One day, when he was enlarging upon the merits of Realmah, this woman happened to exclaim, “Poor man! I doubt whether we shall get a better!” These words dwelt in the suspicious Omki’s mind. He kept repeating the words to himself, “‘Poor man!’ Why poor man? ‘We shall never get a better.’ Humph! Then somebody is thinking about getting a better.” From that time Omki set a sedulous watch upon that woman’s husband and her brothers. He soon detected that they and other disaffected persons met together secretly; and he became perfectly sure of the existence of an important conspiracy. He warned Realmah. But the King replied, “Dear Omki, I cannot take all the trouble about my life that you would have me. I should be thinking of nothing else but my life; and the life would become not worth having. It is not much worth having as it is.” Omki, however, redoubled his watchfulness, and formed, chiefly from among the fishermen’s tribe, a guard of men whose main duty it was to watch the movements of the King, without his knowing that he was so watched.

Now, Realmah had one delight which he thought was quite unknown to his subjects. He would go and mourn, in complete solitude as he supposed, at the grave of the Ainah; and this he was particularly prone to do when more than usually vexed by anything disagreeable in public affairs. Her tomb was in a wood; and he had caused a house to be built close to it, in which one of his stewards dwelt, for it was a part of the royal domain. By means of a secret approach through this house (he was a great lover of these secret ways), he had unobserved access to the tomb. One side of the house was built against a rocky and wooded eminence, and he had caused a secret aperture to be constructed from that side into this elevated ground.

It may appear inconsistent to say that Realmah was a very fearless man, while mentioning that he took such precautions as the above. But this was eminently characteristic of him: that he should foresee danger; provide, in some measure, against it; and then not trouble himself any further about the matter.

It is a wonder that he was not more anxious about his life; for the conspirators had already tried what poison could do, and their plot had only been defeated by Realmah’s fine sense of taste, which had detected something wrong in some beverage that had been handed to him. Careful inquiries had been made about this; but the guilt had not been brought home to any one, and Realmah affected to believe that it was an accident. Omki, however, took care to make great change in the King’s immediate attendants.

One morning in the spring-time, very early, a man in the dress of a fisherman might have been seen issuing from an obscure postern of the palace, and making his way rapidly, though with somewhat of a limping gait, to the Bridge of Foxes, as it was called, which led to the wood of the royal domain. He did not turn to look about him. Had there been an observant person present, that person would have seen a small body of men emerge from some spot near the palace, and disperse themselves in twos and threes, taking nearly the same route as the fisherman. In half an hour afterwards, a similar body might have been seen issuing from the same postern of the palace from which the fisherman had come. The first body were the emissaries of the conspirators: the second were the faithful guard led by Omki. This was not the first time that the fisherman had been followed in this manner; but it was the first time that the conspirators had received much earlier notice than Omki of the fisherman’s intention to take an early walk. It need hardly be said that the fisherman was the King.

It is a fortunate thing for the world that conspiracies are almost always ill-managed. In this instance, nothing would seem simpler than that one or two of the foremost of the conspirators should have gained upon Realmah, and have murdered him before he reached the house. But they did nothing of the kind. It had been agreed that they should meet together near the house, force their way into it, and attack him there. And they kept to their agreement. Probably not one of them really liked the work, and therefore they were all averse to acting, except together in numbers.

Realmah gained the house; and, after speaking a few kind words to the steward’s wife, descended into the secret passage that led to the tomb of the Ainah, which was covered in on all sides, and into which, except by this passage, there was no access.

Now this poor woman had been solemnly warned by Omki of the danger that the King incurred during these visits to the tomb; and no sooner had she attended Realmah to the secret passage which led to the tomb, than she went up to the highest room in the house and kept watch. There, to her amazement and dismay, she saw assembling, by twos and threes, no fewer than seventeen men under the shelter of a large “quilpahra,” a tree like a beech-tree, but with a larger leaf. She hastened down to the King to give him notice. Realmah instantly appreciated the danger; and, leaving the tomb, betook himself to the place of concealment in the rock, which was entered by an opening from the vestibule of the house, at a height of about ten feet from the ground. It was reached by means of a rope-ladder. It led into a long passage, which had an exit in the wood. The King made at once for this exit; but, hearing voices near, did not venture to take this way into the wood. The truth was, that the conspirators had discovered that there was some such means of exit; but had not ascertained its exact situation, as it had been very artfully contrived. Their first care, however, had been to place a small party at that spot near which they had once or twice seen the King emerge.

He had not long taken refuge in this concealed passage, when the conspirators came to the door of the cottage, and demanded entrance. The woman made no reply. The conspirators began to force the door, which had been made very strong. Moreover, there were two iron bars which could be drawn across it, and which went into staples fixed in the adjacent walls. The careful Omki had provided these means of defence, and had instructed the steward’s wife how to make ready use of them. Seven or eight minutes were lost by the conspirators in forcing this door: at last they made good their entrance. They then seized hold of the poor woman, and by frightful threats compelled her to disclose to them the secret entrance to the tomb. They descended into the vault, where of course they did not find the King; but one of them, groping about on the floor, picked up a shell brooch of exquisite workmanship, which they were sure could only have belonged to a person of high rank. After a fruitless search, they returned to the vestibule. They then searched all through the house, but without effect. One cruel man then proposed to put the poor woman to the torture. This plan was immediately adopted. A cord was twisted round her forehead, and pulled violently by the men at each end of it. Her agonizing screams rent the air, but no word of betrayal came from the poor woman. Realmah could bear it no longer. He drew aside the rough screen of wood-work that concealed him; and, standing like a saint in a niche, addressed the conspirators. “I am here: who is it that wishes to kill his king? If any one, let him do so.” Most of the conspirators stood staring at him. One or two, more hardened than the rest, hurled missiles at him, one of which struck the King on the breast, and made him fall backwards into the recess. They were looking about for the means of ascending, when Omki and his followers, who had pressed upon their steps, rushed into the house. The fight was furious; but Omki’s party prevailed. Six of the conspirators were left dead on the floor, and the others were overpowered and bound. His faithful foster-brother then ascended to Realmah’s aid. The King was still senseless. But, though considerably injured, he was not fatally wounded, and after a short time he recovered his senses. His first orders were to spare the conspirators, and to bring them before him. He reasoned with these guilty men, and, upon a promise of clemency, obtained from them a full account of the plot and of the chief movers in it. He then ordered their bonds to be loosed, and was carried home in the arms of his faithful followers.

Such a transaction could not be kept secret, and in a few hours it was noised all through the city. Realmah’s clemency was to no purpose. While the King was in a deep sleep, for the physicians of that nation understood the use of opiates, the populace rose in fury, and sacked the houses of the principal conspirators, killing those who had not made their escape.

There was no further attempt upon the life of Realmah; for those who might still wish to conspire against him felt that, even if they were to succeed in their conspiracy, they would have to endure the rage of an infuriated populace.