got. Much better than that poor human being’s yellow stuff, which only
moves when the wind blows it.’ And then they looked contemptuously
at the Princess’s golden hair, and clucked to each other again, and
followed the peacock, which was strutting away to another part of the
terrace.
So the Princess went and looked for the swans; but they were busily
engaged right over at the other side of the lake, turning bottom
upwards in a very undignified manner, and they refused to come for any
amount of calling.
As there was nothing else to do, she went and sat down in a shady nook
in the white marble wall, and began to look at her book.
‘I shall skip the “Introduction” and the “Prologue”—that’s always dry.
Yes, let’s see, this will do—“The Knightes Tale.” It hasn’t got any
apostrophe to “Knightes.” That’s bad grammar, I’m sure. However, I’ll
go on.’
So she settled herself in a comfortable position with the book on her
lap, and began again:
‘Whilom as olde stories tellen us
A certeyn duk highte Theseus.’
Here she stopped.
‘This man may be a good poet, but he spells awfully badly. Fancy
“certain” spelt with an “e-y-n,” and “duke” without an “e.” It sounds
like “duck.” And then, what was the “height of Theseus”? I can’t
understand it at all.’
However, she read on, skipping pages here and there, for it was almost
impossible for her to understand it. Now it happened that as she turned
the pages over listlessly—for she was thinking of something else—her
eye happened to fall on the name of ‘Dian.’
‘Why, that must be Diana! only they’ve forgotten the “a.” I’ll look a
little farther and see what it says about her.’
So she ran her eye down the page, and sure enough she came upon the
name.
‘Why, it’s spelt with a “y” now,’ she said. ‘Chaucer evidently doesn’t
know his own mind in the matter of spelling. I’ll write to him, and
ask him about it. Now, let’s see what it says. Why, it appears to be a
prayer, or an invocation, or something.’
So she read:
‘O chaste goddes of the woodes greene
To whence bothe heven and erthe are seene
Queen of the regne of Pluto dark and lowe
Goddes of maydens that myn hert has knowe
Ful many a yeer ye woot what I desire
As keep me fro the vengeans of thilk yre
That Actæon aboughte trewely . . .’
Just at this point she heard the rattling of chariot wheels, and Diana
appeared to her.
‘Well, what do you want now?’ she said.
‘I don’t want anything in particular,’ said Ernalie in astonishment.
‘Then why did you go on praying to me like that?’
‘I wasn’t praying, I was reading.’
‘It doesn’t matter to me. It was a very funny prayer. Whoever was it
by? He must have been a stupid man.’
‘He was the father of English poetry,’ the Princess said reproachfully.
‘I should have thought he was a great-great-grandfather when he wrote
that.’
‘Why?’ said the Princess in astonishment.
‘It seems uncommonly like the writing of a man in his second childhood.
However, that does not matter. About the feather now. What can I do in
exchange for it? I will give you anything you want.’
The Princess looked at the Goddess.
‘Why do you want the feather so much?’ she asked. ‘Are you not
invisible enough already?’
The Goddess looked at her sneeringly:
‘I _am_ invisible to dull mortals; but we gods can see each other well
enough, invisible or not. If I had this feather, though, it would be
different, and I should be able to laugh at Venus and that set.’
‘Then I’m sure I won’t give it you, for as Venus is the Goddess of
Beauty she might make me ugly, and that would not be nice for me.’
Diana laughed.
‘You evidently don’t consider yourself bad-looking,’ she said; and she
was just going on to say something else when an enormous wolf, without
a muzzle too, appeared coming round the side of the Palace.
‘There’s Mars,’ said Diana.
‘I don’t see him. I only see a horrible wolf, and——’
But the Goddess interrupted her.
‘Why, you stupid, that’s Mars’s wolf, and where it is Mars is sure to
be, or he isn’t far off.’
‘But what does he want here?’ asked Ernalie.
‘He’s going to escort me to Jupiter’s ball, and he’ll be awfully
impatient. However, he can wait. Now think, is there nothing?’
The Princess reflected a moment.
‘If I give it to you,’ she said, ‘you must do several things for it,
and those quickly.’
The Goddess nodded.
‘First, you must make a road across the mountains into the country
beyond.’
‘That is easy enough,’ said the Goddess.
‘Then you must kill the dragon.’
‘He died last week of sheer starvation. So that’s done. Next.’
‘You must bring Treblo here.’
‘Do you mean that he’s to marry you? That’s too bad, considering that
you know I detest marriages. However, it can’t be helped. Is that all?
Because if there’s much more you had better write it down.’
‘There’s nothing more, except that it must all be done by half-past
six to-morrow evening.’
‘Oh! is that all? You shall have it all done before then,’ said the
Goddess, very much relieved that the tasks that were to be done had
been set.
‘Then, if you’re here to-morrow evening I’ll give it to you.’
Just then Mars appeared round the corner, looking very bad-tempered.
‘If you _are_ coming at all, you’d better come at once.’
So Diana said:
‘Very well, to-morrow evening I shall be here.’
And she drove her chariot towards the God of War, and when he had got
in they turned the corner of the house and disappeared.
Just then the King came into the garden from the library window.
‘What have you been doing?’ he asked her. ‘I’ve been watching you for
some minutes from the window, and you’ve been going on in the most
extraordinary manner, talking and laughing, just as if you had been
speaking to some one.’
The Princess brushed back her hair from her face.
‘Oh! I didn’t know you could see me,’ she said. ‘It’s nothing—only a
little surprise I’ve been preparing for you.’
‘Indeed, you surprise me,’ the King said.
‘Ah, well! if I do that so easily perhaps I shall do it often,’ she
said.
‘What have you been doing all the morning?’ the King asked.
‘All the morning?’ said the Princess in astonishment. ‘It’s not late,
is it?’
The King pulled out his watch and looked at it.
‘It’s half-past five by my watch; but I don’t think that’s quite
right—in fact it stopped three days ago. Ah! I thought so—there’s the
dinner-gong. You needn’t wash your hands, or you’ll be late.’
So they went in together, and the rest of the day passed off quietly,
except that every now and then one of the enthusiastic nobles insisted
on coming in and welcoming the Princess, although the King had given
strict orders that no one should be admitted, as he wanted to be alone
for the day. In spite of this, every now and then an elderly duchess
_would_ rush into the royal presence, and offer her congratulations.
At last, just as they hoped that the last of them had come and gone,
the door opened, and an elderly man—he would have been offended at
being called old—rushed in and clasped the Princess in his arms.
‘My adored Duchess——’ he was just beginning.
But the Princess boxed his ears suddenly, and he let go.
‘What on earth does this mean?’ she said, turning to the King. ‘First
I am inundated with duchesses until I’m quite tired of the name, and
then this old fright rushes in and calls me _his_ duchess, when I’m not
a duchess at all. What does he mean, papa?’
The King looked rather embarrassed.
‘It’s one of them,’ he said meaningly.
‘Oh! it’s one of them, is it?’ she said. ‘Well, sir’—turning to the
Duke—‘what do _you_ mean by forcing your way here against the royal
orders?’
‘I thought,’ said the Duke, looking rather foolish, ‘that as you are
going to——’
‘But I’m not,’ said Ernalie suddenly, ‘after such rudeness. You may go,
and don’t come back again.’
And the Duke went.
‘That’s got rid of one of them, at any rate,’ the King said, with a
sigh of relief.
‘I’ll do my best to get rid of them all,’ said the Princess.
‘How?’ the King began. Then he stopped. ‘Wait a moment. I have an
idea,’ he went on.
‘Indeed, you surprise me,’ said the Princess.
But the King did not notice her impertinent remark. He went to a
drawer, and took out a large piece of paper, and wrote on it as large
as he could:
‘NOTICE.
‘During the next twenty-four hours, any one found
kissing, embracing, congratulating, or suing for the
hand of the Princess—or King—will be submerged three
times in the Palace draw-well.
‘(Signed) CARET, etc. etc.’
‘That ought to do it,’ said the King, surveying his handiwork
approvingly.
Just then the door opened, and two more old gentlemen—each wearing a
ducal coronet—tottered in as fast as they could.
‘My dear Princess,’ ‘My darling wife,’ they duetted in feeble tones,
showing as much joy as their faces were capable of, which made them
look about as pleasant as a pair of Japanese masks.
‘Allow me to congratulate you,’ ‘Allow me to offer my congratulations,’
they went on.
‘Now you’ve done it,’ said the King. ‘Look here!’ And he showed them
the notice.
The two Dukes turned each a different shade of yellow.
‘But, your Majesty,’ one of them began.
‘But, your Majesty,’ said the other suddenly; ‘as I’m——’
‘As I’m——’ the other put in.
Each of them stopped and looked angrily at the other.
‘As the son-in-law elect of the King,’ the first one began.
‘As the affianced husband of the Princess,’ said the other.
‘I think I have the right to speak first,’ they both said angrily.
But the King said, coolly:
‘My lords, the case is very clear. You have each of you offended
against the law by congratulating the Princess, and as one of you,
if not both, intends to marry my daughter and become King, it is as
well to teach you from the beginning that the law must be abided by.
Therefore, you will be ducked—“submerged,” the notice says—until one
of you expires; the other will then marry Ernalie, and in course of
time—if he does not die of the effects in the meantime—he will ascend
the throne, having learnt a useful lesson.’
As the Dukes got greener and greener at this, the King went on:
‘The sentence had better be executed at once, so come along to the
courtyard.’
‘But, your Majesty,’ said one of them, ‘I am subject to rheumatism,
and I should not be fit to reign if this immersion in cold water should
make it so bad that I was unable to move.’
‘That’s just the case with me,’ said the other.
‘Ah, well, if that is so,’ said the King, ‘perhaps you would like
to give up your pretensions to my daughter’s hand. In that case, I
should let you off, because there would be no need to give you such a
practical exemplification of the majesty of the law.’
The Dukes looked perplexedly at one another.
‘I think,’ said one of them, ‘that, under the circumstances, I will
give up my pretensions to the Princess’s hand.’
Here he looked regretfully at her right hand.
‘And I too,’ said the other sadly, looking at her left hand.
‘How _very_ gallant of you,’ the Princess said ironically. ‘And now,
as you’ve got rid of me so easily, perhaps you will be so kind as to
leave us for a time. Good-day.’
‘Good-day,’ duetted the Dukes.
And they huddled out as well as they could, each trying to get behind
the other.
‘I think that’s got rid of all the suitors for to-day,’ the King said
when the door closed behind them. ‘I’ll just go and have the notice
hung on the door, and I’ll be back in a minute.’
And he went, too.
Now really, he thought he had let the Dukes off too easily, and he
intended to catch them up and fine them, but they had made off so
uncommonly fast that they had disappeared before he got to the street
door.
Meanwhile the Princess waited quietly for him; but hearing a noise of
wheels outside the window, she went to see what was the cause of it.
‘Why, it’s him!’ she said delightedly, and with utter disregard of
English grammar.
Opening the window she called out, ‘Treblo! Treblo!’ and, running down
the steps towards him, threw herself into his arms.
For a moment she was too much out of breath to say anything at all, and
Treblo too surprised to do anything but just hold her in his arms; and
the King, who had just returned from the search after the Dukes, was
far too taken aback to do anything but stand with his mouth and eyes
wide open.
‘I call this too bad,’ he said in a low voice; and then raising it, he
called out:
‘Young man, I say, have you seen the notice?’
Treblo looked annoyed.
‘What is the notice to me, you old fool?’ he said.
The King looked more and more astonished.
‘This is too much,’ he said. ‘Ernalie, when you’ve done kissing that
young man perhaps you’ll tell me who he is. You see, it’s no use my
putting up notices about other people embracing you if you go and
perform on some one immediately afterwards. Now just tell me who it is.’
‘Why, it’s him, papa,’ said Ernalie, who had by this time disengaged
herself.
‘Oh, it’s a _him_, is it?’ the King said. ‘That’s what the three others
said they were, but they wouldn’t suit you.’
‘But they were so very old; besides, this is _the_ him, papa.’
‘Ah, I see,’ said the papa, laughing. ‘It’s a case of “Ancient and
Modern Hymns,” and you prefer the modern. But what about the notice?’
‘What _is_ the notice?’ asked Treblo, rather puzzled; ‘and what has it
got to do with me?’
‘More than you think,’ said the King. ‘It’s worth reading, I can tell
you, especially during the next twenty-four hours. I should advise you
to learn it by heart—that is, if you intend. However, I’ll go and fetch
it, and you will be able to see for yourself.’
And the King went off to look for his notice.
When he had gone, the Princess said:
‘But how did you get here? I thought the mountains could not be
crossed.’
‘I don’t know anything about the mountains, or how I came here either,
for that matter. All I know is that I was suddenly caught up in a thick
mist which hid me from every one, and every one from me too, and before
I knew anything I was whirled off here in about a minute and a half,
and then you came running down the steps—and that’s all I know. Now
perhaps you’ll tell me where I am, for I haven’t the faintest idea?’
‘Why, you’re in the middle of the kingdom of Aoland, and that was my
father, and this is my home—and it’s all right.’
‘Yes, it’s all right now, but you wouldn’t have said it was all right
if you had been carried like me.’
‘But you should feel yourself highly honoured and not injured. Why, you
stupid fellow, it was a goddess who was carrying you like the heroes of
Homer.’
‘A goddess!’ said the Prince, laughing. ‘Why, you must have been the
goddess, Ernalie, and you’re quite——’
But the Princess stopped him.
‘What’s the use of saying that if you won’t believe me? It really was a
goddess; and if you would like to know her name, it was Diana.’
‘Diana!’ said the Prince. ‘Why did she carry me off like this?’
‘Because I told her to, of course.’
The Prince shook his head.
‘Come, I say, Ernalie,’ he said, ‘this is too much, you know. I suppose
you want me to believe that?’
‘Of course I do. Why should I have told you if I hadn’t wanted you to?’
‘Yes, that’s all very well,’ said the unbelieving Prince; ‘but how do
you do it?’
‘I just make myself invisible, and then I make people do everything I
like; they have to do it, or else I tease them till they do. But let’s
come into the house and I’ll tell you all about it. But why are you
holding me so tightly?’
‘I am afraid that you will suddenly vanish as you did once before, and
I don’t want that—you’ve been away from me long enough.’
‘Oh, but I won’t leave you again, Treblo,’ she said, ‘I promise
that—that is, if you don’t want me to.’
‘Then you won’t leave me, dear?’ he said; ‘for I shall never want to
lose sight of you again.’
So they went in, and the Princess told him what you know already—if you
haven’t skipped it. But all the same he did not leave go of her, and I
don’t think it was from mistrust.
Ernalie finished relating her story, and the Prince was beginning:
‘My dearest Ernalie, how can I——’ when the door opened, and the King
came in.
‘I’ve had such a job,’ he said, wiping his forehead. ‘There were about
three thousand people assembled reading the notice, and they jeered and
hooted so much that I had to make them a speech before they’d go away.
However, here’s the notice.’
The Prince read it through carefully, and when he had finished he
looked at the King and said:
‘Well?’
‘That’s just it,’ said the King; ‘the Palace draw-_well_.’
‘But as I’m the affianced bride of—I mean, as Ernalie’s my future
husband——’
‘That’s just what the other two said—at least they said, and more
correctly, that they were my sons-in-law elect; only that didn’t help
them.’
By this time the Prince was looking more puzzled than ever.
‘Who are these other two?’ he said, turning to the Princess.
(‘Beware of the green-eyed monster,’ the King said parenthetically.)
‘Oh, they’re only three dukes that papa had promised my hand to—only I
wouldn’t have them.’
‘You mean they wouldn’t have you,’ said the King, correcting her.
‘I don’t mean anything of the sort,’ said the Princess.
‘Oh, very well, my dear,’ said the King. ‘Of course, if you say so,
it’s all right. But how about the notice?’
‘I think we’ll tear that up,’ said Ernalie. ‘It’s done its duty, and it
will be rather in the way now.’
‘Indeed, you surprise me,’ remarked the King.
‘Ernalie is quite right,’ said the Prince.
‘Oh! is she?’ said the King. ‘Then I suppose I’d better tear it up.’
And he did.
When he had finished, and had thrown the fragments into the waste-paper
basket, he said:
‘Now I suppose you want me to consent to your marrying each other, and
I suppose I’d better, or else I shall have Ernalie pitching into me
like anything—only, I really don’t know who you are, young man, except
that Ernalie says you are “him” (she ought to say he), and so I suppose
you are Treblo, the Prince of the neighbouring kingdom?’
‘I am,’ said the Prince. ‘And I suppose you are the King of this
country?’
The King was just about to say ‘I am,’ when another voice sounded
through the room so clear and commanding that each of them looked
towards the window from which it came; but nothing was to be seen there.
‘The road is made,’ it said, ‘and now perhaps you’ll give me the
feather.’
‘Certainly,’ said the Princess. ‘Here it is,’ and she held it out in
the direction of the Goddess. ‘Only, you might let us see you before
you go for ever.’
‘Oh, certainly,’ said the Goddess, for, to tell the truth, Diana—like
others besides goddesses—was very fond of being admired; and
immediately she appeared in the middle of the room with her silver bow
and quiver slung over her back, and the star that she always wore
shining on her forehead.
She took the feather and, smiling, put it to her hair, and on the
moment passed away; so that, where she had seemed to be, they saw the
thin circlet of the moon hanging silvery and pale over the flush of the
sun’s departure.
* * * * *
‘It really was Diana,’ Treblo said.
‘Yes, of course it was, you sceptical boy,’ Ernalie answered; and then,
with a little sigh, ‘I wish I had the feather still, it makes me feel
just like any other girl being without it.’
‘But you’re not—not a bit—there’s no one like you in the world!’ Treblo
said hotly.
‘Why, I believe you’re right—upon my word I do,’ the King said
suddenly, looking up from a book in which he had seemed immersed, ‘_I_
never knew any one like her—for obstinacy.’
‘Let’s go into the garden, Treblo,’ the Princess said.
‘You’ll catch your deaths of cold,’ the King remarked.
But somehow, although they quietly ignored his prudent observation,
which was really wrong of them, they never caught cold. And that is
all the stranger, because the evening was falling very rapidly, with a
feeling of cool dew after the heat of the day, with a faint scent of
roses and honeysuckle, and no sound on the air but the splash of a fish
as it jumped for a moment out of the smooth river, or the short, shrill
shriek of a bat that was circling in the air above them. They sat in a
marble niche in the wall that had roses running up it and hanging down
like a net in front of them—sat and talked till it grew so dark that
he could no longer see the golden threads in her brown hair; until he
could no longer see that her eyes were hazel-gray and long-lashed, or
even that her face was a long, sweet, serious oval. So, you see, it
must have been _quite_ a long time that they sat and talked thus.
But from this you are not to imagine that their example is to be
emulated—not by any means; because I am perfectly certain that if
any one were foolish enough to do it nowadays, they’d have perfectly
miserable colds-in-the-head at the very least, not to mention rheumatic
pains, so I should really advise you not to try any such tricks; very
likely the Prince and Princess had something especial to keep them
warm, or perhaps they sat rather close together—it’s just possible.
However, next morning the Prince and Princess set out together for the
court of King Abbonamento.
They arrived safely at the Palace, and were received with joy by every
one—except Mumkie, who was already making preparations to make himself
King again, for he was quite sure that the Prince had been carried off
for good. So, when he saw the Prince returning, safe and sound, he
was seized with such a fit of rage that he jumped into the sea, and
swam right out of sight. Wopole having, moreover, committed the fatal
mistake of setting sail from the moon when it set, had unfortunately
chosen the wrong side of the earth. And from that day to this neither
he nor Mumkie has ever been heard more of.
But in a very short time the Prince and Princess were married, and it
is needless to say—because, since we live in the nineteenth century,
no one will believe it, but still, if you’ll take my word for it—they
lived happily ever afterwards.
THE END
_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, _Edinburgh_