



Produced by Al Haines








  SAVROLA

  A TALE OF THE REVOLUTION IN LAURANIA



  BY

  WINSTON SPENCER CHURCHILL

  AUTHOR OF "THE RIVER WAR: AN ACCOUNT OF THE RECOVERY
  OF THE SOUDAN" AND "THE STORY OF THE MALAKAND
  FIELD FORCE"



  LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
  91 AND 93 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK
  LONDON AND BOMBAY
  1900




  COPYRIGHT, 1899, BY
  LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED



  TYPOGRAPHY BY J. B. CUSHING & CO., NORWOOD, MASS.




  THIS BOOK IS INSCRIBED
  TO
  THE OFFICERS
  OF THE
  IVTH (QUEEN'S OWN) HUSSARS
  IN WHOSE COMPANY THE AUTHOR LIVED
  FOR FOUR HAPPY YEARS




PREFATORY NOTE

This story was written in 1897, and has already appeared in serial form
in _Macmillan's Magazine_.  Since its first reception was not
unfriendly, I resolved to publish it as a book, and I now submit it
with considerable trepidation to the judgment or clemency of the public.

WINSTON S. CHURCHILL.




  CONTENTS

  I.  An Event of Political Importance
  II.  The Head of the State
  III.  The Man of the Multitude
  IV.  The Deputation
  V.  A Private Conversation
  VI.  On Constitutional Grounds
  VII.  The State Ball
  VIII.  "In the Starlight"
  IX.  The Admiral
  X.  The Wand of the Magician
  XI.  In the Watches of the Night
  XII.  A Council of War
  XIII.  The Action of the Executive
  XIV.  The Loyalty of the Army
  XV.  Surprises
  XVI.  The Progress of the Revolt
  XVII.  The Defence of the Palace
  XVIII.  From a Window
  XIX.  An Educational Experience
  XX.  The End of the Quarrel
  XXI.  The Return of the Fleet
  XXII.  Life's Compensations




CHAPTER I.

AN EVENT OF POLITICAL IMPORTANCE.

There had been a heavy shower of rain, but the sun was already shining
through the breaks in the clouds and throwing swiftly changing shadows
on the streets, the houses, and the gardens of the city of Laurania.
Everything shone wetly in the sunlight: the dust had been laid; the air
was cool; the trees looked green and grateful.  It was the first rain
after the summer heats, and it marked the beginning of that delightful
autumn climate which has made the Lauranian capital the home of the
artist, the invalid, and the sybarite.

The shower had been heavy, but it had not dispersed the crowds that
were gathered in the great square in front of the Parliament House.  It
was welcome, but it had not altered their anxious and angry looks; it
had drenched them without cooling their excitement.  Evidently an event
of consequence was taking place.  The fine building, where the
representatives of the people were wont to meet, wore an aspect of
sombre importance that the trophies and statues, with which an ancient
and an art-loving people had decorated its façade, did not dispel.  A
squadron of Lancers of the Republican Guard was drawn up at the foot of
the great steps, and a considerable body of infantry kept a broad space
clear in front of the entrance.  Behind the soldiers the people filled
in the rest of the picture.  They swarmed in the square and the streets
leading to it; they had scrambled on to the numerous monuments, which
the taste and pride of the Republic had raised to the memory of her
ancient heroes, covering them so completely that they looked like
mounds of human beings; even the trees contained their occupants, while
the windows and often the roofs, of the houses and offices which
overlooked the scene were crowded with spectators.  It was a great
multitude and it vibrated with excitement.  Wild passions surged across
the throng, as squalls sweep across a stormy sea.  Here and there a
man, mounting above his fellows, would harangue those whom his voice
could reach, and a cheer or a shout was caught up by thousands who had
never heard the words but were searching for something to give
expression to their feelings.

It was a great day in the history of Laurania.  For five long years
since the Civil War the people had endured the insult of autocratic
rule.  The fact that the Government was strong, and the memory of the
disorders of the past, had operated powerfully on the minds of the more
sober citizens.  But from the first there had been murmurs.  There were
many who had borne arms on the losing