clearly; then he walked toward us. I clutched my rifle still more
tightly.
"Suddenly Irene whispered to me: 'We are not fastened; those men did
not attach the rope; and we may drift away from him, perhaps across the
river, and so lose him. Is it too far for a shot?'
"'Entirely, entirely,' I answered; 'we must wait: and if we do drift
across the river we may find some other game there. Be quiet!'
"So we both were quiet; but the balloon did not drift: there was no
wind.
"The tiger moved gently toward us; it was dreadful to remain thus
motionless and see him come on. He had paid no attention to the escaping
natives: he was giving his mind entirely to our balloon. He looked up at
us, and he looked down at the end of the rope, a yard or two of which
was moving about like a snake as the balloon veered a little this way
and that.
"This seemed to interest the tiger. He stopped for a few moments and
looked at it. He was now near enough for us to observe him closely. We
did so with breathless interest. He was a long tiger, and very thin; his
flabby flanks seemed to indicate that he was hungry. Suddenly he gave a
quick bound; he ceased to regard the balloon; his eyes were fixed upon
the end of the rope. With great leaps he reached it. He arched his back
and looked at it as it moved, then he put one paw upon it. We leaned
over the edge of the car and watched him.
"The rope was so attached that by putting out her arm Irene could reach
it. She seized it and made the lower end of it move more quickly on the
ground. The tiger gave a jump, with his eyes on the rope. Then he leaped
forward, and over and over again he put his foot upon it and quickly
jerked it away.
"'What are you doing?' I whispered. 'Are you mad? You may enrage him.
Do not touch the rope! Do not touch it again!' Oh, the recklessness, the
unthinking playfulness of woman! How can we guard against it? How can we
be safe from it?
"The rope was now still for a moment. It ceased to interest the tiger,
and he looked upward. Suddenly an idea came into his head. He seized the
rope in his great jaws, and gave a powerful jump backward. Oh, what a
jerk, what a shock! It was worse than an earthquake. It was like a great
throb from the heart of the tiger to the heart of the man. I must have
turned pale. Did he intend to haul us down? This fearsome thought vented
itself in smothered ejaculations, and Irene turned to me and spoke in
her usual voice:
"'He cannot do that, for it is impossible for him to haul us down hand
over hand or paw over paw. He is only playing. The rope amuses him. And
we need not speak in whispers; even if he hears us he cannot understand
us. Is it not time to shoot?'
"She is so precipitate, my Irene. I love her, but she lacks that prudent
hesitancy which so often gives a man his power over circumstances.
"Still I considered the case: if I were going to shoot at all, this was
surely a good time. Everything had come so suddenly that I had not had
time to collect myself, to prepare for action.
"I looked steadfastly down at the beast, and so did my Irene. I was
becoming calmer. He looked up at us with an air of concentration; he
paid no more attention to the rope.
"I lifted my rifle; I scrutinized its every portion; it was in order.
Then I leaned over the edge of the car and pointed it downward. I aimed
it between his great, earnest eyes, into the very middle of his
thoughtful and observant countenance. I pulled the trigger; the
explosion shook the car.
"Up from the ground there came a sudden, startling roar. At first I
could not see the tiger, but when the smoke moved away I found myself
gazing down into his savage, blazing eyes. Roar after roar came up; he
sprang from side to side; his tail stiffened and curled, and when he
opened his vast mouth, showing the cavern of his throat, his red tongue,
and his long white teeth, a shiver ran through me. Instinctively I
grasped my Irene by the arm.
"'I do not believe you hit him,' said she. 'See how he bounds! He cannot
be hurt. It must be difficult to aim directly downward, but let me try.'
"I did not forbid her. Even by chance she might strike that awful beast
in some vital part. She took a long, deliberate aim, and as she fired
the tiger gave a veritable scream.
"'Ah, ha!' I cried, 'you hit him. Truly, my Irene, you hit him.'
"'But it was only in the toe,' she said. 'See how he has stopped to lick
it with his tongue. I think it is his littlest toe. It is not much.'
"Large toe or small one, that tiger was now an angry beast. Hopping
backward a little way, he now crouched to the ground, and then gave a
wild spring upward. It was heart-sickening as his great form, with its
yellow skin and black stripes, his blazing eyes, his flashing teeth, and
his outspread claws, rose toward us through the air. Of course he could
not hurt us; we were too high up. Irene's face flushed. 'That was a
great leap,' she said.
"I took up my rifle again. It comforted me to see what a small jump the
beast had made compared to our distance from the ground. Again I fired,
and this time also I did not hit him. I had never practised shooting at
things almost beneath me; the slightest motion of Irene disturbed my
aim. The report seemed to infuriate the tiger until he was on the verge
of madness. He jumped from side to side, he roared, he gnashed his
teeth, and it seemed to me that I could smell his horrid breath coming
up toward us.
"Suddenly he ceased all motion; he crouched upon the ground; he made no
sound; he shut his mouth; he partly shut his eyes, but they were fixed
upon me immovably, and they were green as emerald.
"'Now,' said Irene, 'is a good time to take another shot. Shall I try?'
"I raised my hand that she might not move. There was a change coming
over the sun. At first I thought my sight was affected and I did not see
well, but it was not that. Instinctively I gazed upward. A wandering
cloud was slowly moving under the sun. Then I looked down. The tiger's
yellow was not so bright, his black stripes were not so clear and
sharp-cut, and, more than that, he was coming nearer. The balloon was
slowly descending. The truth flashed upon me. Deprived of the direct
rays of the sun, the gas was condensing. We were going down, down,
slowly but surely down!
"A chill ran through me, an awful premonitory chill. I knew what to do,
but there was little I could do. We carried no ballast, for this was a
captive balloon. What could I throw out? The extra rifle! Out it went,
and fell not far from the tiger; but he did not move; with his green
eyes fixed upon the car, he watched it slowly descend. The rifle had
relieved it of a little of its weight, but the middle of the cloud was
thicker than its edge. The gas was still condensing, the balloon was
slowly descending. I became almost frantic. If my Irene had been any one
else I believe I would have thrown her out. But I could not throw out my
Irene. Besides, she was so vigorous.
"It was awful, this steady, this merciless descent. It was like entering
a tomb with a red tongue and flashing teeth waiting within. The green
eyes gleamed with the malice of a waiting devil biding his time and
knowing that it was drawing near.
"Down, down we went, and the smell of his horrid breath came up like the
forerunner of a cruel death. Now a tremor ran through the whole body of
the crouching beast; even his tail trembled like a feather in the wind.
He seemed to press himself nearer and nearer to the earth. His eyes were
fixed steadily upon the car.
"I knew what this meant. He was about to spring. The moment that we
should descend sufficiently low, he would hurl himself into the car; he
would not wait for it to touch the ground.
"My thoughts raced through my brain. If anything could be done, it must
be done in the next half-minute. I spoke quickly to Irene.
"'Do not lose a second,' I said. 'Get out on the outside of the car;
rest lightly upon its edge; hold by the ropes. I will do the same. At
the moment I give the word you must jump. Both together; do not
hesitate. It will not be much of a fall. We cannot stay here and have
him--'
"At this instant the tiger gave a tremendous bound upward, his fore
paws, bristling with claws, stretched over the edge of the car. In that
instant I jumped!
"It was a great leap, and as my feet struck the ground and my eyes
glanced rapidly about me a feeling of great joy filled my breast. I was
on the earth again, master of myself, and the tiger was not there. I
looked upward. The great beast was drawing up his hind legs and was
climbing into the car, and there was Irene, my Irene, outside of the
car, sitting on the edge and holding on to the ropes. I had forgotten to
give her the word! How my heart sank! It was terrible!
"I now perceived something that almost paralyzed my every faculty. That
balloon was rising. I was a large man and I was heavier than the tiger;
with its reduced weight the balloon was slowly going upward. I clasped
my hands, I gasped for breath. If I should call to Irene to jump now she
would be dashed to pieces, the car was already so high. And then the
great truth flashed upon me: 'What matters it? If she leaps she will be
killed; if she does not leap--' I could not think of it!
"To be sure, I might seize the rope and pull her down low enough so that
she might safely drop; but if I did that the tiger might also jump. Oh,
what a position to be in, for one who loves!
"It was now absolutely impossible for either of them safely to leap from
the car unless I pulled it down, and my mind was not capable of even
considering such an alternative. To meet him here upon the ground, in
this awful solitude! To die together, but not in each other's arms; to
perish from this bright earth; to reach out to my Irene; to call to her
as she reached out and called to me, when the terrible monster-- It was
too much!
"But even in my despair I remembered to be humane. I seized the end of
the rope. I would not let my Irene float away altogether. I could not.
The soul of the husband asserted itself. The cloud had now passed from
the face of the sun. The balloon was rising with considerable force, but
I could hold it; I was very heavy. I would not desert my Irene.
"As I stood thus, looking upward and holding fast to all that was dear
to me in life, I saw Irene, still sitting on the edge of the car, raise
one hand and put it to her head. I could see that she was feeling faint;
the strain of her position was beginning to tell upon her; at any moment
she might fall. Then my quick glance sought the tiger. He was in the
car, his great head and two front paws hanging over the edge; his green
eyes were steadily fixed on me. Just then Irene, evidently unable to
hold any longer to the ropes, gave herself a dexterous twist, and in an
instant she was inside the car, her head sinking down out of sight. Oh,
noble, most beloved Irene! Sooner than let herself drop and fall at my
feet a mangled corpse, she would do anything. She well understood my too
sensitive soul, this dear Irene!
"In spite of my emotion I still held firmly to the rope, and the tiger
still glared down upon me. It was too far for him to jump; he knew that
if he did he would be dashed to pieces. This gave me strength and
courage.
"Irene now raised herself and looked over the edge of the car; the tiger
by her side did not regard her. I have often read of wild animals, of
different kinds and degrees of fierceness, who, having fallen into a pit
together, did not attack each other, but remained as gentle as sheep,
being cowed by their fear. Plainly this tiger was cowed. He had never
been so far above the earth; he knew that he would die if he leaped; but
he kept his sinister green eyes steadily fixed on me.
[Illustration: The great beast was drawing up his hind legs and was
climbing into the car.]
"Now Irene called down to me. I could not hear what she said, I was in
such terrible agitation. And besides, I think she was afraid to speak
too loudly, for fear she might startle the black-and-yellow beast. How I
longed to hear her dear words, perhaps her last! Mayhap she was bidding
me a fond farewell; perhaps she was trying to encourage me and uphold my
heart in this terrible trial. It would be like her; she knows my love
for her, my dear Irene!
"And then, ah yes! it might be that she was asking my permission to
throw herself from the car: that she was beseeching me to turn away my
head that she might leap to the ground, and thus end her anxieties and
her miseries--I might say our miseries; for if the tiger should follow
her he, too, would be killed. I should be left to weep over my dearest,
the joy of my life and my heart. The tiger would be dead. In her last
breath Irene would know that I was safe. That would be like Irene, my
dear Irene! But I would not suffer it. I could not speak, but I shook my
head.
"She did not try to say anything more, but she looked down upon me, and
so did the tiger. The two heads were not far from each other; they were
both regarding me. I grew almost crazy. Never was man placed in more
terrible straits than this.
"Suddenly a thought struck me. I seized more tightly the end of the
rope, and I ran. I ran to the river. I plunged, I bounded, I made such
great haste that sometimes I stumbled over obstacles, and sometimes the
balloon seemed to lift me from the ground; but on, on I went, on to the
river!
"When I reached the edge of the water I took courage to stop and look
up. They were both still gazing over the edge of the car, both with
their eyes strained upon me.
"Then boldly and fearlessly I walked into the river. I walked until the
water was up to my knees; until it reached my waist. I walked until the
surface of the water lapped my shoulders. I was not afraid; I am a good
swimmer. Irene now called down to me. It was plain she was becoming
reckless; she would know what I was going to do, no matter what effect
her words would have upon the tiger. If she thought I was about to
commit suicide, not daring to bear up under her coming fate, she would
dissuade me. It would be like her, that dear Irene!
"'What are you going to do?' she cried. And as I looked upward her eyes
and those of the tiger were steadily fixed on me.
"'You must get on the outside of the car again,' I cried. 'Do it
quickly, without disturbing him. Then I will pull you down, down, a
little at a time. When you are far enough down--and I will be the judge
of that--I will give you the word; then you must jump. It will not hurt
you; the water will break your fall, and I will save you. Think of
nothing else but your trust in me, and jump. The moment you leave the
car I let go the rope; then it will instantly be too far for him to
jump. Quick! Be ready when I give the word.' And as I spoke I hauled
steadily upon the rope.
"Irene looked at me for an instant, and then she stood up in the car. I
saw her put one foot upon the seat which surrounds it; then quickly
appeared the other foot upon the edge of the car. She raised both arms
and joined her hands above her head; she pushed herself between the
ropes and leaped. It was all the work of a second.
"She came down beautifully, head foremost. It was a splendid dive.
Relieved of her weight, the balloon gave a great jerk, and I let go the
rope.
"Irene went down into the water as cleanly and smoothly as if she had
been a diving duck. She scarcely made a splash. She was a magnificent
swimmer.
"As my dear Irene disappeared beneath the surface of the water I made
use of the rapid moments in which I could not expect to see her in
glancing upward. The tiger was rising rapidly. His head was stretched
out over the edge of the car; I could see his wild and frightened eyes.
He was afraid to jump.
"Then I turned to the water. The head of Irene had risen above it; she
was striking out bravely for the shore. She did not need my help. She is
a grand woman! In a few moments we stood beside each other on the shore.
I would have thrown myself into her arms; I would have embraced this
dear one, now my own again: but she was so wet; I was so wet. We seized
each other by the hands. It is impossible to say whether she wept or
not, her face was so wet.
"Then by a sudden instinct we looked upward. The balloon was high above
us, rising steadily. We could see the head of the tiger projecting from
the car--now such a little head, but I knew that he was gazing at me.
Then we heard a sound which came down from above. It was the tiger's
roar, but it was such a little roar! I clasped more tightly the hand of
my Irene; we did not speak, but gazed steadily upward at the balloon,
which had reached a current of air which was carrying it across the
country. The sun was now very hot; the gas was expanding; the balloon
was rising higher and higher and higher.
"We stood holding each other's hands and gazing. At last there was but a
little black spot in the sky; then it faded and shivered, and was gone.
Side by side we moved away. We were very wet, but the sun was hot.
"Suddenly I spoke. I could not restrain my burning desire to look deep
into the soul of Irene. I owed it to my love of her to know the extent
of her love for me. Those words which she called down from the car,
which might have been her last words on earth, what were they? I asked
her.
"'I said,' she answered, 'that if you would pick up that rifle you threw
out, and stand ready, I would jerk open the safety-valve. I would then
take up my rifle, and when the car came down we would both shoot him.
But you shook your head, and I said no more.'
"I did not answer, but in my heart I said: 'O woman! What art thou,
and of what strange feelings art thou made! Thou hast the beauty
of the flower and the intellect of the leaf. To let that awful
black-and-yellow fiend descend to the earth! To call up to a cruel
death and ask it to come down-stairs and meet you on the lowest step!
Skies! How can the mind of man conceive of it?'
"And leaving the shores of the river, we toiled homeward over the dreary
wastes."
The company were all much interested in this narrative--almost painfully
interested. They said as much to the Frenchman, and he was pleased at
the impression he had felt sure he would make, and which he always did
make, when he told that story. They talked of hunts and wild beasts, but
there were no comments upon the story itself. Each one had his or her
own thought, however. The Master of the House thought: "What a clever
woman!" The Mistress of the House thought: "Just like a Frenchman!" The
Next Neighbor wished she had been in the balloon to pitch the tiger on
him. The Daughter of the House was fascinated at the idea of the
vicinity of the beautiful, ferocious tiger. And John Gayther thought, as
he looked wistfully at the Daughter of the House: "I am glad he has a
wife!"
THIS STORY IS TOLD BY
POMONA AND JONAS
AND IS CALLED
THE FOREIGN PRINCE AND THE
HERMIT'S DAUGHTER
VII
THE FOREIGN PRINCE AND THE HERMIT'S DAUGHTER
The Frenchman went away; and after him there was a succession of
visitors to the house who were not interested in gardens and were
therefore not introduced within the sacred precincts of the summer-house
on the upper terrace. The young people took a fancy to a pretty rustic
arbor in a secluded spot; but whether it was because they especially
admired that part of the garden did not transpire.
But the guests left, one after another; and finally there came to visit
the family Euphemia and her Husband. They were old and intimate friends
of the family, and the very morning after their arrival they all
repaired to the summer-house which overlooked the garden. There was some
conversation about the garden,--its beautiful things, and its useful
products, and its antiquity,--for Euphemia loved the old garden and its
traditions.
The two gentlemen, provided with comfortable chairs, smoked their cigars
in peacefulness and content, and the Daughter of the House seemed
absorbed in some fancy work. But after some time the Master of the
House, turning suddenly to Euphemia's Husband, asked: "What has become
of Jonas and Pomona?"
"Here they are to answer for themselves!" cried the Daughter of the
House, springing up, as John Gayther ushered into the garden the Next
Neighbor, followed by Pomona and Jonas. The Next Neighbor was also
on intimate terms with Euphemia and her Husband, and a devoted and
rapturous admirer of Pomona. The couple had descended upon her the night
before in a most unexpected fashion, but she gave them a hearty welcome,
and rejoiced in them, even after she discovered that she owed the visit
to a desire on the part of her guests to see Euphemia's Husband. They
knew where he was visiting, but had thought it wiser to go to the Next
Neighbor to pay their little visit. And so the explanation of this
apparently strange meeting of so many old friends was simple enough.
Chairs and benches were found, and John Gayther brought his stool
unasked and joined the party. He had no idea of missing that
conversation.
It was soon evident that, while Jonas was as tranquil as usual, Pomona
had something on her mind--that she had come with a purpose; and as soon
as the inquiries and explanations were over, she addressed the Husband
of Euphemia with great earnestness:
"Jone and me came to see you, sir, about something particular; and as we
are all friends here, I may as well say it right out."
"The more you say the better we shall be pleased!" the Master of the
House exclaimed.
Pomona nodded to him, but turned again to the Husband of Euphemia.
"We've been told, sir, that some editors have been asking you to get us
to enter fiction again; and what we want to say is that we don't want to
enter it no more. What we did when we was in it was all very well, but
that's past and gone, although I've said to Jone a good many more times
than once that if I had to do this or that thing now, that's set down in
the book, I'd do it different. But then he always answers that if I'd
done that I'd have spoiled the story, and so there was no more to say on
that subject. What we've done we gladly did, and we're more than glad we
did it for you, sir. But as for doing it again, we can't do it, for it
ain't in us. Even if we tried to do the best we could for you, all you'd
get would be something like skim-milk--good enough for cottage cheese
and bonnyclabber, but nothing like good fresh milk with the cream on
it."
"I think you are perfectly right," said Euphemia. "If you don't want to
go into fiction again you ought not to be made to do it."
"I would not do such a wicked thing as to put anybody in fiction who did
not want to go there," gravely replied the Husband of Euphemia.
At these words the load that was on Pomona's mind dropped from it
entirely.
"Now, sir," said she, "we've got another thing to say; and it will seem
queer to you after what we've said already. We do want to go into
fiction, but not the way we was in it before. The fact is that between
us we've written a story, and we've brought it with us, hoping you
wouldn't mind letting Jone read it to you. Of course we was expecting to
read it to only two; but as we've got to go back to-day, if the rest of
the folks don't mind, Jone can read it anyway."
"I should like it above all things!" exclaimed the Next Neighbor.
"We will not let you go away until it is read," said the Mistress of the
House.
"Oh, I do want to hear it!" cried the Daughter of the House.
"Of course Jonas must read it," was Euphemia's quiet comment.
"Heave ahead!" called out the Master of the House.
Pomona smiled gratefully. "It isn't a very long story, but we've been a
long time working at it, and we wouldn't think of such a thing as
calling it finished until our friends has heard it."
The quiet and good-natured Jonas now drew a manuscript from his pocket
and began.
"The name of my story," said he, "is 'The Foreign Prince and the
Hermit's Daughter.'"
"We thought of a good many other names for it," said Pomona, "and I
wanted to call it 'The Groundless Prince'; but Jone he said that
groundless applies to things there is no reason for, and as so many
princes are of that kind, somebody's feelings might be hurt. And so I
gave in."
"Now this is the way the story begins," said Jonas. "In that period of
time which is not modern, and yet is not too far back, and in which a
great many out-of-the-way things have happened, a certain young Prince
went travelling in foreign parts of the world with the general purpose
of broadening his mind. He wanted to study the manners and customs of
other nations in order that he might better know how to govern his own
people.