‘Well, you can’t, unless you scalp me,—it’s the crown of my head I

mean.’

‘Well, then, I’ll have your head cut off.’

‘I shall die then, so I shall keep the crown until I die. Besides, I

shall have your head cut off instead, for I’ll call out the soldiers.’

‘That’s no good. They’re all on my side,’ answered the Prince.

‘Then it’s all up with me. As Julius Cæsar says—let’s see, what did he

say, now?—ah yes!’ and he began to roar ‘A horse! a horse! my kingdom

for a horse!’

‘You’ll make _yourself_ hoarse if you go on roaring like that. Besides,

your share of the kingdom isn’t worth a horse—it’s not even worth a

horse-chestnut.’

‘That’s rather old,’ said the King. ‘However, what are you going to do

with me?’

‘I’m going to turn you into what you wanted to turn my father into. You

shall have his cottage and all the live-stock and implements thereto

appertaining.’

‘What does that mean?’ asked the astonished Mumkie.

‘Oh, find out,’ said the Prince. And he found out eventually.

The Prince now gave orders that he should be taken to the coal-cellar

and locked in there for fear of escape. And so the poor old man was led

off, muttering to himself, ‘Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.’

But the Prince answered:

‘Well, you needn’t talk; your head doesn’t wear a crown.’ And from that

time forth it didn’t.

While this was being done, the Princess had noticed that a man had been

stealing round the corner. He was standing close beside her now, and

he seemed quite unconscious of her presence. The Princess looked at him.

‘He must be one of the five they brought in with them,’ she said to

herself. So she counted; but to her astonishment she found there were

six of them—with him.

‘He must be some one belonging to the Palace,’ she thought, ‘and he may

be up to some mischief.’ So she watched him closely. It was evident

that the rest thought he was one of themselves, for they took no notice

of him in particular.

The man, however, seemed quite innocent; but the Princess noticed that

he was fingering a pistol that he had in his belt in a most suspicious

way. So she kept quite close to him while they descended the stairs to

the cellars. And she was right; for, in the twinkling of a bed-post, he

drew the pistol from his belt and aimed straight towards the Prince.

But before he could draw the trigger, she lifted up her hand and gave

him such a box on the ear that, in his astonishment and pain, he

dropped the pistol altogether, and it exploded harmlessly. As for the

man, he was so astonished that he sat down on the floor with his mouth

and eyes wide open, looking like an expiring frog.

At the report of his pistol every one turned, and Ablot noticed him for

the first time.

‘Why, who are you?’ he said.

But the man only gasped.

‘Who is he?’ asked the Prince of the men.

‘We thought he was one of us,’ they all answered in astonishment.

‘Who are you?’ asked the Prince.

But he only gasped on in silence.

‘Stick a pin into him, and see if that will bring him to.’ And a man

was just going to do it when he said, in a gruff voice:

‘Don’t; I’m Wopole.’

‘Oh, you’re Wopole. And who’s he?’ asked the Prince.

‘I used to be the falconer of the late tyrant, now sojourning in the

coal-hole there.’

‘Oh! and so you tried to shoot me?’

‘Not at all, your Majesty. I was only firing a royal salute to show my

joy at your ascent to the throne.’

‘That’s not true,’ said the voice of the Princess, so suddenly that

every one started and the falconer collapsed again.

‘I’ve a good mind to have your head cut off,’ said the Prince, who by

this time had grown used to the voice. ‘However, I’ll just put you in

the coal-hole along with your late master.’

Wopole having been accordingly put into the hole, everything seemed

quiet; and as it was getting late, the Princess thought she would leave

them. She therefore returned as fast as she could, and getting into

bed slept soundly till morning.

She did not awake until long after her usual hour, for you see she was

not used to being out so late, and she was only roused in the morning

by the Queen knocking at the door.

‘Ernalie! Ernalie!’ she called; ‘get up. It’s half-past seven. You

ought to have been up this two hours.’

She got up as fast as she could; and when she had laid the table, the

King and Queen came down.

‘I wish you’d knock at Treblo’s door and tell him we’re waiting

breakfast for him,’ the Queen said to Ernalie, and she accordingly

went; but she couldn’t get any answer, and she went downstairs once

more and told them he seemed to be out.

‘Where can he be?’ asked the King.

‘I rather think he’s gone out for a walk,’ suggested the Princess.

‘It’s funny; he usedn’t to be fond of getting up so early. Just go to

the door and see if he is coming across the fields.’

Ernalie obediently went to the door, and shading her eyes from the

glare of the sun, looked over the fields towards the road.

She came back quickly.

‘I can’t see him,’ she said; ‘but there’s a whole lot of people coming

across the field.’

The King looked vexedly astonished.

‘What on earth do they want?’ he said. ‘It must be some fresh trick of

Mumkie for bothering me.’

However, by this time the people had reached the garden gate, and they

could hear a man’s step on the gravel-walk. It stopped at the door, and

a knock was heard.

‘Come in,’ cried the King; and the man entered, bowing profoundly.

When the King saw who it was he looked surprised, and said:

‘Why, Lord Corax, what do you want with me?’

‘I have come to receive your Majesty’s orders,’ said the man in a

singularly hoarse voice.

The King looked still more astonished.

‘My orders! What _do_ you mean?’

‘I mean your Majesty’s orders for the management of affairs,’ said the

man, with a still deeper obeisance.

A light broke on the King’s face.

‘Oh! that’s what you mean, is it?’ he said.

‘It is, your Majesty,’ answered the courtier, bowing once more.

‘It strikes me you’re rather late in the day coming here, aren’t you?’

asked his Majesty.

The courtier pulled out a large watch.

‘It is, I believe, at the present moment thirty-five and a half

minutes after eight A.M., your Majesty. At eight precisely I received

orders from your Majesty’s son to come hither, bringing with me your

Majesty’s coach and guard of honour. Likewise a person, by name Mumkie,

who is for the future to inhabit this cottage, and to enjoy the

privilege of using for his own purposes all the live stock—sheep, oxen,

kine, sows, pigs, cocks, hens——’

Here the King interrupted him.

‘That is enough. Tell them to get the carriage ready for three, and

send Mumkie to me.’

‘Just so, your Majesty,’ said the courtier, and departed on his errand.

When he had gone the King said to the Queen and Ernalie:

‘Now, my dears, run up and put on your best things, and, Araminta, just

see if our crowns are _very_ tarnished. We ought to make our triumphal

entry in state, for we are reinstated. And, by the bye, see if you’ve

got an old coronet of Treblo’s that will fit Ernalie.’

‘What for, your Majesty?’ asked Ernalie in surprise.

‘For you to wear, of course,’ said the King.

‘But what do I want with a crown? I have to stop here with Mumkie—I’m

part of the live stock.’

‘Good gracious! what do you mean?’ said the King and Queen together.

‘Well, you see, the agreement between your son and Mumkie was that

Mumkie should have _all_ the live stock of the farm, and as I’m alive I

suppose I’m part of the live stock.’

‘I suppose you are,’ said the King.

Just at that moment a voice was heard outside, saying:

‘May I come in?’

‘Oh yes, come in,’ said the King.

And Mumkie entered, looking very dirty and black with coal-dust, for,

you see, he had spent the night in the coal-cellar. They were all very

much surprised, and naturally too, and the King remarked:

‘Good-morning! _Have_ you washed?’

Mumkie shook his head.

‘I’ve been watched—only it’s not quite the same thing, your Majesty.’

‘Well, never mind. So there’s been a revolt, has there?’

‘A revolution, sire,’ answered Mumkie.

‘Ah, well, it’s all the same. They manage these things quickly here. By

the bye, what was the arrangement that my son made about this house?’

‘He said I was to have the house and all the live stock.’

‘_All_ the live stock?’ said the King.

‘All, your Majesty.’

‘Then I’m afraid it’s all up with you, Ernalie!’

‘I’m afraid it is, your Majesty, unless your Majesty would buy me from

this gentleman.’

‘Good idea! What’ll you take for her, Mumkie?’

Mumkie looked at her critically.

‘What’s your weight?’ he said to her suddenly.

‘I don’t exactly see what that has to do with it.’

‘Well, I suppose you’re good, aren’t you?’

‘Oh, very good,’ said the Princess.

‘She’s as good as gold,’ said the Queen.

‘Just so,’ said Mumkie. ‘That’s why I wanted to know her weight. You

see, I’ll sell her to you for her weight in gold.’

The King put his hand in his pocket, and drew out his purse and looked

into it.

‘Will you take threepence-farthing on account?’ he said.

But Mumkie shook his head.

‘We only take ready money here, or pay on delivery.’

‘Then I suppose the only thing to do is to go to the Palace and fetch

the money. Good-bye till then, Ernalie.’

So Ernalie kissed the King and Queen, and watched them go down the

garden walk to the carriage, and saw them get in. The guard of honour

fired a royal salute, and they drove off at a gallop. But Ernalie

turned back into the house where Mumkie was awaiting her.

‘I’ve got a friend coming here to-day, shortly, and I don’t want to

have our conversation overheard, so when he comes you cut your stick.

Go and perform some wholesome menial function—clean the plates.

Understand? And don’t you listen at the door, miss.’

‘I am not in the habit of listening at doors, and you’d better call me

“your Royal Highness,” if you please.’

‘And why, your Royal Highness?’

‘Because I’m a Princess.’

‘Oh, you are! Then, I suppose, you’re a foreigner? And they have a

custom here with foreigners of boiling them alive. How would you like

that, your Royal Highness?’

‘You daren’t do it,’ said the Princess; but all the same she felt

rather frightened. Just then a knock came at the door.

‘That’s Wopole,’ said Mumkie, ‘so your Royal Highness may take yourself

off, and if I catch you listening at the door I’ll skin you alive.’

‘I never listen at doors,’ said the Princess. But she thought to

herself: ‘I listen inside the room sometimes, though.’ And she ran

upstairs to fetch her feather. She got it very quickly, and ran

downstairs as lightly as possible. They had shut the door of the room,

but she opened it boldly, and stepped in as quietly as she could.

Mumkie looked up, as if he expected to see some one come in; but of

course he did not.

‘It’s the wind, I suppose,’ said Wopole. ‘Anyhow, you’d better shut it.

Some one might be listening.’

So Mumkie got up and shut it, and then went back to his seat again.

‘You say you can’t try to murder this Prince again?’ he said.

Wopole shook his head.

‘It’s no good. I tried last night, and I got such a box on my ear that

I was half killed.’

‘But who gave it to you?’

‘How on earth should I know? I could see nobody. Just as I was raising

the pistol to shoot—bang! it came. I wouldn’t try it again for

anything.’

‘What a nuisance it is that you let that feather fall out of the

eagle’s tail. You could have done it easily then. As it is, I don’t

know what to do. You won’t try again, and I’m too old, and no one else

in the country would hurt him for love or money. There’s only one other

thing to do, and it’s not an easy task, anyway.’

‘Oh, never mind the ease or difficulty. If it’s possible to be done,

I’ll do it.’

‘Then I’ll tell you. You’ll have to cut his thread of life.’

‘Really, and what with?’

‘Oh, anything you like. The trouble is to get to the place where

they’re kept.’

‘Oh! and where is that?’

‘They’re kept by three old women who live in the moon. They’re called

the Fates.’

‘And how am I to get to the moon?’

‘That’s just it. You’ll have to take a boat one evening at six, and if

you sail straight towards the moon while she is visible, and anchor

when she is out of sight, in three weeks and two days you will reach

the end of the sea, where the moon touches at night, and then you can

get out of the boat; and take care to haul it up out of reach of the

sea, or else it’ll be carried off, and you won’t be able to get back

to the earth again.’

‘And when I’ve got to the moon what am I to do?’

‘The moon’s not a very large place, although it’s certainly larger

than it looks from the earth. There are five people who live in the

moon. One is the man in the moon, the rest are all women; these are

three Fates, who sit twisting the threads of life into one large rope,

and besides that there’s Diana; but she keeps to herself, and never

troubles about the other four. When you touch the shore you’ll see

the man in the moon. He’s a wrinkled old man, who carries a bundle of

sticks and a lanthorn. When you meet him, give him a loaf of bread to

pacify him, for the moon being made of green cheese they have nothing

else to eat, and so they’re very fond of bread to eat with it. Ask him

the way to the Miss Parkers—those are the three Fates. He’ll show you

in reward for the bread, and then you’ll see the house. Knock at the

door, and when it’s opened, slip in. The Fates are blind, and won’t see

you. When you get in you’ll see a lot of reels of silver threads. Among

them you’ll see his thread. You’ll know it by the label on the reel.

Cut that and those of the King and Queen, and then come back again as

soon as you like.’

‘Very well, then; when shall I start?’ asked Wopole.

‘When you will.’

‘Will to-morrow evening do?’

‘Yes, quite well.’

‘Very well, I’ll start to-morrow evening about eight. In the meantime,

I must see about getting food, as I’m not a fasting man.’

‘Very well, do.’

Just then came a knock at the door, and Wopole said:

‘Well, I suppose it’s settled. I shall open the door and see who’s

knocking.’

‘Yes, do. I suppose it’s some one come to buy this Princess.’

‘Oh, is it?’ and Wopole went to open the door.

The Princess meanwhile quietly slipped upstairs and took the feather

out. In a few moments she heard a voice calling her, and she went down.

She found the Prince with the other two in the little parlour.

‘Good-morning, Ernalie,’ he said; and she answered, ‘Good-morning.’

‘This absurd man,’ the Prince went on, ‘insists that you shall be

weighed, although I offered him two thousand ounces of gold; and I’m

sure you don’t weigh that. However, he will have you weighed, and it

can’t be helped.’

‘I suppose it can’t,’ said the Princess.

So she was weighed. It doesn’t matter what she did weigh, but it was

less than two thousand ounces. The Prince ordered the two men whom

he had brought with him as bearers of the gold, to stop and see it

properly weighed out, and then he set out with the Princess for the

town.

‘I thought you wouldn’t mind there not being an escort,’ he said

apologetically; ‘but all the people about the Palace are busy preparing

for a festival.’

The Princess said she didn’t mind at all.

She had not had much time to think about what she had heard Wopole and

Mumkie say, nevertheless she determined to tell the Prince all she had

heard.

When he had listened to it all, he laughed.

‘Ah, well, if that’s all I’ve got to fear I’m quite safe. He’s sure

to get drowned if he tries,’ was all he said; and he refused to say

anything more on the subject.

So they went quietly on till they came to a slight hill down which

the road went, and from the top they could see the city shining in the

morning sun.

‘It’s a very beautiful place, isn’t it?’ said the Prince.

‘Very beautiful; only my own country is far more beautiful.’

‘It must be very beautiful indeed, then. However, I suppose this is

good enough for you while you are away from your own country.’

‘It’ll have to be, at any rate,’ said the Princess dismally, as they

went down the hill.

They soon reached the city, and went, through crowds of bowing citizens

and citizenesses, to the Palace, where they found the King and Queen

anxiously awaiting them.

‘So you’ve come at last,’ the King said; ‘I was afraid that you would

come to some harm with that Mumkie.’

But the Princess laughed.

‘Oh no,’ she said; ‘I’m quite able to take care of myself and of other

people too; and while I was in the house I heard something of great

importance.’ And she proceeded to tell them what she had heard.

But when she had finished, the King laughed even more than his son had

done.

‘Why, my dear little girl,’ he said, ‘do you believe all that

rigmarole? They were having a joke at your expense. They must have

heard you outside the door and wanted to frighten you. Don’t you think

of such rubbish. Why, if they tried it on alone they’d get swallowed up

in a storm; and I’m sure none of my people would ever help them.’

But the Princess did not feel at all convinced, all the same.

‘You might just as well have them put in prison, and then they couldn’t

do anything.’

But the King shook his head.

‘That’s just it, you see; I’ve only just let them go, and I can’t put

them into prison unless they’ve committed some fresh crime.’

‘But isn’t it treason to compass the death of the King or his eldest

son?’

‘It is; but then it’s such a foolish scheme that no one would believe

any one capable of inventing it. So we’d better leave it alone.’

But still the Princess was not at all convinced.

‘If you won’t stop him going, I shall go with him,’ she said.

‘But he won’t take you,’ said the King.

‘He won’t be able to help it,’ said she.

‘Oh, well, have your own way, my dear,’ said the King good-naturedly;

for he thought she would change her mind. But she was quite in earnest.

However, she didn’t say anything more about it, and the rest of the day

went on quietly.

The old King and his son attended the council just as if nothing

unusual had ever intervened between it and the last council they had

held before they had been turned out. As for the Queen and Princess,

they occupied themselves with choosing dresses for a grand ball that

was to be given on the day after the morrow. So that the time was

pretty well filled up until the evening; and as the Princess said she

felt rather tired, she went out to take a walk on the sands by the sea.

To tell the truth, she intended to see whether Wopole were not making

preparations.

Now it so happened that the Prince, too, was going out to take an

evening stroll, and so they went together; and as the town was

rather full, they walked along the beach to get out of the way of

the enthusiastic populace, who insisted on congratulating him on his

good fortune. This is a habit of populaces, they are all fond of

congratulating any one who is successful—but they never assist any one

to success if they can help it. So they walked on for some time, and as

the evening was approaching, turned back towards the harbour.

Now it happened that as they came round a bend of the shore they

noticed a crowd assembled round one of the boats.

‘I wonder what the excitement is?’ said the Princess.

‘I don’t know, really, unless it’s some gigantic dog-fish, or perhaps

they’ve found a scale of the sea-serpent. Shall we go and look at it?’

‘Yes, let us,’ said the Princess eagerly.

And so they went towards the crowd, who made way at their approach.

‘Why, it’s Wopole!’ said the Princess suddenly; and so it was.

‘What is he up to?’ asked the Prince of one of the bystanders.

‘I don’t know, your Majesty, only we saw him coming along bringing

packages of things to his boat here, and we thought we’d come and see

that he wasn’t up to mischief.’

The Prince then spoke to Wopole, who was looking angrily at him.

‘Well, Wopole,’ he said, ‘what are you up to now?’

‘I’m going to leave the country,’ said he angrily.

‘A good thing for the country,’ said several of the crowd. But the

Prince said:

‘I’m sorry you’re going to leave us. However, I shall be glad to make

you a small present before you go.’ And he felt in his coat, and after

a moment’s search he drew out a minute pair of nail-scissors. ‘Perhaps

these might be of some use to you. They’re very good for cutting

threads of any kind. Good-day.’

And pretending not to notice his look of astonishment, he drew the

Princess’s arm through his, and they walked off.

‘Why did you do that?’ asked the Princess, after they had got out of

hearing.

The Prince laughed.

‘I thought it might surprise him a little,’ he said. ‘And they wouldn’t

cut butter if they were heated, so he won’t do much harm with them.’

‘So you don’t mean to stop him?’

The Prince laughed.

‘No, no!’ he said; ‘why should I? He’ll never get to the moon.’

‘Then if you don’t stop him I shall go with him.’

‘I think he’ll take care that you don’t,’ retorted the Prince.

‘But he won’t be able to help himself.’

‘And why not?’

Because he won’t be able to see me.’

‘Nonsense!’

‘You may call it nonsense if you like. But do you remember some one

who spoke to you last night in the square? You couldn’t see me then,

and why should he stop me if he can’t see me?’

‘Good gracious! Was that you last night? How stupid of me not to

recognise your voice! But you won’t go with him, will you?’

‘I shall, unless you stop him.’

‘But I promised not to stop him, and I can’t break my promise.’

‘Then I must go, that’s all. I can’t allow you and your father and

mother to be killed because you’ve promised not to stop him.’

‘But, Ernalie, can’t I go instead?’

‘He wouldn’t take you, and you can’t make yourself invisible, you see.’

‘But all the same, you must not go; it’s absurd.’

‘Why?’

‘You may be drowned, or anything.’

‘If I’m drowned or anything Wopole will have to be drowned or

anythinged too, so that you’ll be safe in any case.’

‘But I don’t want to be safe if you are drowned.’

‘What difference will it make to you if I’m drowned or not?’

‘Oh, Ernalie, you are too bad,’ he said earnestly. ‘Can’t you see I

love you more than all the world?’

The Princess looked at him in utter astonishment.

‘You love me!’ she said, with her lips parted and the colour coming and

going in her cheeks. ‘Why, whatever made you?’

And the Prince answered naturally:

‘Why, you did, of course.’

‘But you’ve not known me for more than two days.’

‘If I had known you only for two hours it would have been more than

enough. You are the most beautiful girl I ever saw.’

‘Perhaps you’ve not seen many,’ said the Princess.

He took no notice of her flippant remark—he was very much in earnest.

‘I love you as much as the whole world, and a great deal besides. And

don’t you love me a little in return?’

‘Well, to tell the truth, I never thought of it at all before; but now

I come to think of it I do love you, and a very great deal too—if you

don’t tease.’

So they prolonged the stroll indefinitely, thinking nothing about the

unpleasant walking that the heavy shingle afforded, or even that it

was getting very dark, and that the air was chilly with the night and

the sea-foam that the wind blew against them, so that it was after

supper-time by a great deal when they arrived at the Palace once more.

But all that he could say would not persuade her not to go with Wopole,

although she was very sorry that she could not stop. But, as she said,

it was no use stopping if her love died, and if any one was to die she

would be the one. Wopole was sure to die with her, so the Prince would

be safe at any rate. And although the King and Queen both tried to

dissuade her it made no difference. She refused to promise not to go.

So on the next day they watched her carefully, though without hindering

her going about.

The day went past just as the day before had done, and about the same

time in the evening she asked the Prince to go down to the beach with

her, and they went just as before. But all the while the Prince kept

fast hold of her hand.

So they walked along the beach as the wind freshened, and they talked

of all sorts of things,—it is not necessary to say what.

But the Princess noticed that the boat which Wopole had loaded with

provisions was almost in the water, and Wopole and Mumkie were both

standing talking by it.

So she drew the feather quietly out of her pocket, for you may be sure

she had not forgotten to bring it. Suddenly she said:

‘Oh dear! my shoe’s full of sand. I must take it off and shake it out.’

‘Will you let me do it for you?’ said the Prince, who stepped easily

into the trap.

‘Yes, you might, if it’s not too much trouble,’ she said.

So he knelt down, and unlaced her shoe, took it off, and shook out the

sand, and then put it on again for her. He was just getting up again

when the Princess gave him a little push, so that he lost his balance

altogether, and before he could recover himself she put the feather to

her hair, and ran along the sands to the boat which Wopole and Mumkie

were just about to launch.

The Feather · 第 2 / 6 段