Once upon a time the King of a great country had a quarrel with a
goblin. Now it chanced that the King had the best of the dispute, and
this so angered the goblin that he departed from the realm and cast
about for an opportunity to do a mischief to his foe.
Now, as the goblin bided his time, it came to pass that the King and
the Queen, who had long been childless, became the proud parents of a
bouncing baby boy. From rosy summer morn to the murmuring quiet of a
summer night, the whole realm gave itself over to rejoicing. Bells rang
from the towers in cities and steeples in the fields, cannon boomed
from castle towers, and small cakes, each one iced with the Prince’s
monogram in red and white sugar, were distributed by royal command
among the children of the realm.
Now it was the custom of the country that the heir to the throne be
shown to the assembled nobility of the realm on the first day of his
seventh week in this changing world of ours, and presently this day
stood at hand upon the calendar.
On the afternoon of the ceremony, the scene within the great hall of
the palace was magnificence itself! Assembled by thousands and ten
thousands, the magnificoes of the land, all in ceremonial attire, moved
or tried to move about; but as the huge hall was crowded to its bulging
doors, this was difficult, and there were, I regret to say, the usual
faintings from lack of air, cries of protest, bad-tempered pushing,
caps knocked awry, crumpled ruffs, and lost jewels.
Suddenly the great bell of the palace set up a ponderous and solemn
booming--the ceremony was about to begin! Mercilessly crowding back
the already densely jammed magnificoes on the toes of still other
magnificoes, a number of gentleman ushers contrived to open an aisle
the length of the hall, and when this feat had been accomplished, the
two tallest sergeants in the royal army opened the double portals
leading forth from the royal drawing-room. And now, heralded by a great
ringing peal of golden trumpets, and accompanied by a crash of exultant
thunder on the palace organ, a noble procession slowly advanced through
the gateway into the hall. The generalissimo of the royal armies came
first, marching solemnly and quite alone, for he was marshal of the
occasion; then came trumpeters in green and yellow; then a chosen
detail of giant grenadiers dressed in rose-red and silver-grey; then
pages scattering flowers from golden baskets; then a little space;
and then, advancing with the dignity of a cloud; appeared the Lord
Chancellor, wheeling in the baby.
Of finest yellow gold were the wheels and push-bar of the perambulator,
whilst the carriage part had been hollowed from a single stupendous
opal! Amid a deafening din of huzzas and shouts and bell clangs, the
procession solemnly advanced to a dais raised at the head of the hall.
Suddenly an invisible shape fluttered in through a window, muttered
something beside the baby’s cradle, uttered a mocking goblin laugh, and
fled away unperceived and unsuspected.
After wheeling the baby to the centre of the dais, the Lord Chancellor
gave a signal to the trumpeters to break into the national anthem, and
bent over the cradle to take the infant and show him to the throng.
To his horror, the cradle was _empty_! The little Prince’s pillow was
there, the coverlet edged with turquoise, and the rattle filled with
seed pearls--but no baby.
“The baby! The baby! Where’s the baby?” gulped the Lord Chancellor,
scarce able to speak. An awkward pause followed: excited whispers,
conjectures, rumors buzzed through the audience. Presently, as the
truth began to spread, a growing uproar rocked the hall. Soon
everybody was busily looking here and there--lifting up edges of
carpets, poking about behind curtains, staring at the ceiling, and
examining corners.
All at once a baby’s cry was heard, faint to be sure, but quite
unmistakable.
“Search, search, my friends!” cried the King. “The Grand Cross of the
Order of the Bluebird to whosoever discovers my child!”
The baby’s cry was heard again! Where could he be?
Suddenly a clever young lady-in-waiting, who had been searching the
opal carriage, uttered a piercing shriek. While groping about in
the perambulator, she had felt the baby, but had been unable to see
him. Like a sudden crumbling of walls, the dreadful truth broke upon
everyone present.
_The baby had become invisible!_
Invisible he was, and invisible he remained. You may well believe that
his upbringing was indeed a difficult task! To make matters worse,
it was soon discovered that not only was the Prince himself totally
invisible, but also that such clothes as touched him became invisible,
too. One could _feel_ the little Prince, one could _hear_ him--and that
was all. Thus, if he crept away on the nursery floor, one had either to
grope for him through the clear air, carefully feeling here and feeling
there, or wait until he cried. No wonder the poor Queen was forever
searching the land for new nurses-in-waiting, and forever sending home
nurses whose nerves had proved unequal to the strain! One could never
tell what might be happening.
On one occasion, for instance, the child actually managed to escape
from his nursery to the sweeping lawns of the royal palace, and the
entire national army, working in scout formation, had to spend the
whole afternoon creeping about on its hands and knees before the prince
was found asleep in the shelter of a plum tree.
Now, when every attempt to undo the spell had failed, it came to
pass that the King went to visit the Wise Man of Pansophia, a learned
sage who sat in a wing chair beneath a green striped umbrella at the
crossroads of the world, giving counsel to all comers. This sage was
clad in the stately folds of a full black gown, a round black velvet
cap rested on the crown of his snow-white head, a broad white beard lay
spread upon his breast, and on his nose were huge round spectacles,
over whose edge he looked with an air of solemn authority.
Beginning at the umbrella, an army of questioners, patiently waiting
in single file, stretched dozens of miles across the rolling land and
disappeared, still unbroken, over the crest of a distant hill. These
patient folk, it is a pleasure to relate, courteously gave way to the
unhappy King.
When he had heard the King’s story, the Wise Man shook his venerable
head, and replied in a voice which sounded like the booming of waves on
a resounding shore:--
“The spell which binds your son is a mighty one, and can only be
removed by touching him with the spell-dispeller, the all-powerful
talisman given your ancestor, King Decimo, by his fairy bride.”
“Alas,” replied the King, “the spell-dispeller was stolen from the
royal treasury twenty years ago. Could you not tell us who stole it, or
where it may be found?”
“Was it not the only spell-dispeller in the whole wide world?”
questioned the Wise Man.
“It was,” replied the King with a sad, assenting nod.
“Then it was stolen from you by the Master Thief of the Adamant
Mountains,” boomed the Wise Man.
“And perhaps _you_ can tell us where _he_ can be found,” said the King.
The Wise Man shook his head.
“Ask me where lies the raindrop which fell yesterday in the river,”
replied the Wise Man, “but ask me not where dwells the Master Thief.
I do not know. No one knows. But as for breaking the spell, it is the
spell-dispeller or nothing. Would that I could help you more!”
And, bidding the King a ceremonious farewell, the sage turned his
attention to the questioner at the head of the long line, a stout
peasant-fellow whose cottage chimney failed to draw.
But now you must hear of the Master Thief of the Adamant Mountains.
This mysterious personage, of whom all had heard, but whom none had
seen, dwelt in a secret house in a lost valley of the mountains, a
house so artfully shaped and so cunningly concealed with vines and
branches, that the very birds of the air were deceived by it and would
often come to roost on the chimney, mistaking it for a chestnut tree!
As for the Master Thief himself, a kind of living bean-pole was he, for
he was taller than the tallest, leaner than the leanest, and provided
with a pair of long, tireless legs which could outrun and outlast the
swiftest coursers in the land.
During the night, he moved through the world in a strange garment of
pitchy blue-black, fitted as close to him as the skin to an eel; during
the day, he wore a marvelous vesture on which were painted leaves,
spots of sun, dabs of blue shade, and stripes of earthy brown.
Now this Master Thief was no ordinary robber, for he stole not for
stealing’s sake, but only to gather new rarities for a wonderful museum
he housed in the caverns under his dwelling. Surely there was never
such a marvelous museum as the museum of the Master Thief!
Deep in the solemn echoing caves, ticketed and labeled each one,
and arranged in order, shelf on shelf, was to be found the _finest
specimen_ of everything in the world which men had made or loved. The
most comfortable chair in the world was there, the pointedest pin,
the warmest blanket, the loudest drum, the stickiest glue, the most
interesting book, the funniest joke, the largest diamond, the most
lifelike stuffed cat, the handsomest lamp-shade, and a thousand things
more. To relabel his collection, to move it about, to do things to it
and with it was the supreme delight of the Master Thief. Seated in the
most comfortable chair in the world, finger tips together, he spent
hours gloating on his treasures, and wondering if he lacked aught
beneath the sun. Presently he chanced to hear of the invisible baby’s
opal perambulator, and instantly determined to add this new wonder to
his gallery.
Going first to his secret den, he spun for himself a globe of delicate
glass, spoke five words into it, and sealed them snug within. Next, he
attired himself in his parti-colored suit, put the globe in his pocket,
and fled on his long legs over hill and over dale to the royal city.
Arriving late in the afternoon, he made his way without difficulty
into the gardens of the palace. The day was fair as only a day on the
threshold of summer may be, and the opal perambulator stood unattended
in the shade of a clump of ancient trees. Magnificently clad, a number
of royal nurses were standing about the silver fence which enclosed
the prince’s romping-yard. Far off, in the sunny distance, sounded the
drums and fifes of the palace soldiery.
And now, creeping nearer unobserved, the Master Thief took the crystal
globe from his pocket and tossed it near the group. Striking the
ground, the globe burst with the faintest crystal tinkle, and the words
that the cunning Master Thief had sealed within escaped into the air.
And these words were:--
_Oh, look at the balloon!_
Immediately all the nurses looked to the sky to see the imaginary
balloon, and while they were looking here and looking there, the Master
Thief sprang to the opal perambulator, released the brake on the golden
wheels, and, pushing the carriage ahead of him, ran like mad down the
flower-bordered alleyways and out the garden gates to the highroad.
[Illustration: _Over hill, over dale, in a long straight line, fled the
Master Thief with the golden perambulator_]
Across the landscape in a long straight line fled the Master Thief on
his wonderful legs, pushing the perambulator all the while. Now they
saw him bouncing it across furrowed fields, now they saw it speed like
a jeweled boat through a sea of waving green grain, now they beheld it
scattering the silly sheep in the upland wilds.
Presently the bells of the city set up the maddest ringing; foot
soldiers were turned out on the roads, and squadrons of cavalry were
sent galloping after; but all in vain--the jeweled carriage, blazing
in the western glow, sped like a meteor over the land. The last they
saw of it was a moving streak of light along the steep slope of a
mountain, a light which gleamed for a moment on the crest like a large,
misplaced, and iridescent star, and then swiftly sank from view.
When the Master Thief reached his secret haven in the valley, he
shouted aloud for triumph, and swiftly wheeled the perambulator down
to the museum. _The most magnificent perambulator in the world!_ Once
more drawing forth the most comfortable chair, the Master Thief sank
into it and contemplated his newest prize.
Suddenly, a strange sound, half cry, half gurgle caused him to sit bolt
upright. Had someone discovered his secret treasury? What could it
mean? And now there came a second cry which ended in a long protesting
wail.
The Master Thief had stolen the invisible baby along with the carriage!
Now the notion of having to take care of a baby, of any baby, was
a matter which might well alarm the Master Thief; but as for an
_invisible_ baby, that was indeed a trial! All at once, however, the
Master Thief slapped his knee and chuckled for joy--he had thought of
the spell-dispeller! Holding aloft the brightest lantern in the world,
the robber made his way to the little side-cavern in which he had
placed the talisman.
His heart jumped. The spell-dispeller was gone!
Baffled and perplexed, the Master Thief began a nervous search of the
little cavern; but never a sign of the spell-dispeller could he find.
Vowing not to restore the Prince till he had found the talisman and
tested its power, the Master Thief at length abandoned the search and
carried the Prince through the caverns to his dwelling.
* * * * *
And now days passed, and months passed, and even years, without
bringing to light the spell-dispeller. From an invisible infant the
Prince grew to be an invisible boy, whose merry voice and friendly
presence played about the house of the Master Thief like a capful of
summer wind on a mountain lake.
Heigho, but after all it wasn’t so bad to be invisible! One could see
things and find things hidden away from all other mortals; one could
climb to the side of a bird’s nest, sit still, and watch the mother
bird feed her young; one could dive, unseen, into the clear, cold pools
of the mountain streams and pinch the lurking trout by their rippling
tails; one could follow the squirrel to his secret granary!
Now, during the Prince’s fifteenth year, it came to pass that the
Master Thief suddenly became ashamed of his wicked ways, so ashamed
indeed that he resolved not only to forgo further _collecting_ but also
to return every single thing he had stolen! The invisible Prince, I am
glad to tell you, was of the greatest possible service to the Master
Thief in this honest task. And now, all over the kingdoms of the world,
people began to find their stolen possessions waiting for them when
they came down to breakfast in the morning: the stuffed cat became once
more the pride of the Blue Tower, the most interesting book went back
to its place on the shelves of the royal library, the golden scroll of
the funniest joke appeared as if by magic on the wall of the king’s own
room. Alas for human waywardness, there were actually people who had
grown so accustomed to the loss of their belongings that they reviled
the Master Thief for their return. Dreadful to relate,--the style
having changed,--the handsomest lamp-shade was actually tossed in a
well!
At the end of the fifth year, the opal perambulator and the invisible
Prince were the only two stolen things left to return. The invisible
youth was twenty years old. With a sorrowful heart, for the youth was
as dear to him as a son, the repentant Master Thief began preparations
to restore prince and perambulator to the unhappy parents.
Now it came to pass that, on the morning of departure, the Master Thief
descended for the last time to the forlorn and dusty corridors of his
great museum and walked about the galleries, leaving footprints in
the dust and musing on the glories that had been. Here had stood the
shiniest rubber-plant, here the most beautiful hat-rack, here the only
eraser which had never rubbed a hole in the paper. A tear gathered in
his eye. He had loved them; he had stolen them; he had restored them;
he was free!
All at once his glance, roving empty shelves, fell on a tiny box
wedged in a sombre corner. With a loud shout of joy, the Master Thief
recognized the spell-dispeller! It had fallen behind a shelf and had
lain there concealed for almost twenty years! Thrusting it into his
pocket’s depth, the Master Thief bounded up the secret stairs to the
joy of the sun.
After a pleasant rambling journey in a huge coach, the Master Thief
and the invisible Prince reached the city at the twilight hour, and
took lodgings at a quiet, comfortable inn. The invisible Prince, I must
remind you, was still invisible.
Now it came to pass that when supper had been served and eaten, the
Master Thief and the invisible Prince went for a stroll through the
royal city. Much to the surprise of the travelers, they found the city
hung with streamers and bunting of the gayest kind. Stranger still, in
spite of this display, the citizens of the royal city appeared to be
particularly out of spirits.
“Good host,” said the Master Thief to the landlord of the inn, “pray
what means this air of jubilee? Do you make merry for some kingly
festival?”
“A festival, yes,” replied the host, looking about to see if anyone
were listening, “festival it is, but only in name. Have you not heard
the news? Let us walk a little to one side and I will tell you the
story.
“Three years ago our gracious sovereign, the good King Valdoro the
Fourth--weary of the cares of state and still stricken to the heart
by the loss of his son, the invisible Prince of whom you may have
heard--gave over the guidance of the kingdom to the Marquis Malicorn.
Last week this official made himself master of the royal power,
imprisoned our dear King and Queen in a dark tower, and proclaimed
himself successor to the throne. The coronation is to be held to-morrow
afternoon in the great hall of the royal palace. Alas for the people
and the nation! Oh, if the invisible Prince would only return!”
To this the Master Thief nodded his head, his busy brain plotting all
the while. All at once he smiled. He had devised a plan.
And now it was once more the great hall of the castle, and once more
a sunny afternoon. Bells rang, but their cry was wingless and leaden,
and there was a dull and joyless note in the cannon’s roar. Crowded as
densely together as ever they were twenty years before, the magnificoes
sullenly awaited the arrival of the usurper and his train.
Presently the portals were once more swept apart, revealing Malicorn
and his followers. Not a sound rose from the assembly.
Growling for rage beneath a huge pair of dragoon’s whiskers, the wicked
Marquis made his way to the dais and the coronation chair. The noise of
bells and cannon ceased. An official in blue advanced with the royal
robe.
Just as he was about to throw it over the waiting shoulders of the
usurper, an invisible something snatched the robe from him and, lo, it
melted into the air!
Exceedingly angry, yet disturbed at heart, Malicorn hoped for better
luck with the sceptre, but this, too, was snatched by an invisible
hand. As for the royal crown, it vanished from its purple cushion in
the twinkling of an eye.
Speechless with rage, Malicorn now rose to his feet, and stood before
the throne, glaring about into the air. Cries of defiance, mingled with
shouts of derision, rose from among the magnificoes. And now, even as
the turmoil was at its height, the Master Thief, who had been concealed
behind some curtains, strode boldly forth to the dais, thrust Malicorn
aside with a sweep of his long arms, and shouted to the audience:--
“Magnificoes of the Realm, you came to see your King. Your rightful
King is here. Would you behold him?”
“Yes!” shouted the assembly in one voice. And now the Master Thief
touched the invisible Prince with the spell-dispeller.
The instant he did so a flash of deep golden light set everyone
blinking, fairy music was heard, and suddenly the invisible Prince
stood visible before the throne. He was tall, dark-haired, brown-eyed,
and a bit slim, and the crown was on his head, the robe on his
shoulders, and the sceptre in his hand.
And now the bells and cannon began to boom in real earnest, and a
gay breeze came sweeping in to toss the flags and banners that had
hung so still. Overcome by emotion, the generalissimo seized the
Lord Chancellor by the waist and swung him into a jig, the soldiers
all tossed their caps into the air and cheered like mad, whilst the
organist became so excited that he began to play two tunes at once.
Everybody was laughing and hallooing and hurrahing.
As for Malicorn and his crew, they were tumbling out the back door as
fast as their legs could carry them, and nobody has seen them from
that day to this.
Presently the old King and the Queen, released from the dark tower,
came hurrying in to greet their son.
“He resembles you, my dear,” whispered the King to the Queen.
The Master Thief was forgiven everything.
Singing and rejoicing, the people of the city poured from the houses
into the sunny streets.
Clang, clang! Boom! Clang, clang! Boom, boom! Boom! Boom!
And they all lived happily ever after.