tea-trays, and they twinkled awfully; and it was golden-coloured all
over, and it shone so brightly in the sun that it made the Princess’s
eyes quite ache to look at it. And it was growling and prancing and
kicking up the dust, and making more fuss than fifty horses could
have done. Just then the tent opened and Merrymineral came out. He
looked just as usual, and had not any armour or weapons except a huge
battle-axe, which must have weighed nearly a ton, but he carried it
with the greatest ease, although he was an old man—for he was over
eight hundred years old. He vaulted on to his dragon’s back with very
great ease, and putting his spurs to its golden sides made it gallop
at a great rate. As yet he had not seen what had happened to his army,
for he was rather short-sighted, but when he had got within a few yards
of where it ought to have been, he suddenly stopped as if he were
bewildered, but then his eye fell on the Princess and he roared out:
‘Oh, it’s you, is it? I’ll soon do for you,’ and he made his dragon
fly towards the Princess at a very great rate. But precisely the same
thing happened now as had happened once before, for the dragon came to
a sudden stop as if it had hit against a wall. The Prince of India did
not understand it at all.
‘Had we not better retreat and join the rest of the army?’ he said.
But the Princess answered:
‘Oh no, we’re quite safe here. He won’t be able to get at us. Only
you’d better come a little closer to me, because he might be able to
hit you.’
So the Prince came a good deal closer, and they sat watching the
frantic efforts of Merrymineral to get at them, but it was no use.
Suddenly, however, he changed his mode of attack. He made his dragon
fly high into the air—so high indeed that it would have been invisible
if its golden coat had not shone brightly in the sun. It was quite
unpleasant to look at him, for he was so high up that it made them feel
dizzy as it shone out against the sky, miles high. Suddenly, however,
just as it was directly over them, it seemed to be growing larger.
‘I do believe he’s going to drop on us from above’; and so he was. The
Prince put up his lance that the dragon might be spiked on it as it
fell. But he might have saved himself the trouble, for suddenly, when
the thing had fallen to within a few feet of their heads, it stopped
as if it had fallen on to the roof of a house, and then it bounced off
again like a ball.
But the Princess had shut her eyes, so she did not see this; but when
she opened them she saw the dragon and Merrymineral lying on the grass
in a heap where they had fallen.
But he was soon on his feet again, and again he tried to charge at the
Princess; but it was no use, and he only tired himself. At last the
Princess began to get tired too, so she turned to the Prince and said:
‘I think we’ve had enough of this—don’t you?’
And he replied:
‘Oh, plenty; but I don’t see how we’re to get rid of him, unless I go
out and fight him.’
But the Princess answered:
‘Oh, I don’t think you need do that, although it’s very good of you to
offer—but you’ve forgotten all about the Owl.’ So she took the Owl off
her shoulder, and putting it on the horse’s head with its face to her
she asked it:
‘You can drive him away, can’t you, dear Owl?’
And the Owl nodded gravely. So the Princess said:
‘Then I wish you would—only don’t hurt him; only drive him away.’
As she said this a wonderful change came over the Owl. It began to grow
bigger and bigger, until it quite covered them over as it spread its
wings to fly. Merrymineral seemed to know what was coming, for he drew
his steed’s reins up tight and examined his stirrups and saddle. And
then, as the Owl flew towards him, he tried to spur the golden dragon
against him; but the dragon refused to move, and at last it turned and
bolted with its tail between its legs, like a whipped dog.
Merrymineral tried hard to stop it, but he might as well have tried to
stop a mad bull. As he could not stop, and the Owl was catching him up,
he turned in his saddle and hurled his heavy battle-axe at the Owl;
but the Owl caught it as it flew, and flung it back with such good aim
and force that it hit the dragon on the back and cut it clean in half,
so that it fell from under Merrymineral and left him standing on the
ground.
But when he saw that the Owl was quite close to him, a wonder
happened—for he suddenly caught fire at his feet and shot up into the
air just as you may have seen a rocket do, and he shot right away,
so that the last they saw of him was just as he disappeared over the
mountains. But the Owl flew back to its mistress quite small again,
and it perched once more on her shoulder as affectionately as ever.
As to the golden dragon, it had disappeared altogether—and the funny
part was that nothing was heard of it ever after, and no one knew how
it had gone—so that the only thing that remained was the battle-axe,
and that took seven men to lift it. However, the main thing was that
Merrymineral had departed, and there seemed no likelihood of his
returning.
So you may imagine how great the Princess’s joy was.
As soon as he had quite disappeared, she said:
‘That really does seem to be the last of him.’
But the Prince shook his head:
‘You never know when that sort of man will turn up again; and in the
meantime what are we to do with the giant and the dwarf? I suppose we
had better attack them at once and get rid of them.’
‘But why?’ asked the Princess. ‘They don’t seem to want to fight much,
and why should we attack them? Let us go and ask them to go away
quietly, and I should think they will.’
So they went up to where the giant and the dwarf and their forces were
standing.
‘What are you going to do now?’ she asked of them.
‘I don’t know,’ answered the dwarf, and the giant too shook his head.
So the Princess said:
‘Will you come and join our rejoicings?’
But the dwarf said:
‘No; I must be going back to my kingdom, or I don’t know what won’t
happen.’
And the giant said:
‘And I’ll go too, or they might rebel there just as your subjects have
done.’
So he said good-day, and in three minutes he had disappeared. The
dwarf too said good-day quite politely for him, and then he struck the
ground with the point of his lance, and immediately the earth opened
before him and he marched into the opening at the head of his troops,
and with their trumpets blowing and banners waving they disappeared,
and the Princess never saw them nor their master again—and to tell the
truth she was not very sorry. But the Prince and Princess marched back
to the town at the head of the army, and there Lord Licec met them and
congratulated the Princess on her success, and the people shouted for
joy, and the bells pealed gladly.
So they marched through the town to the principal city, from which you
may remember she had set out on the day before. And there they were
received with even greater joy, and for six days there was feasting and
rejoicing throughout the whole land, but on the seventh day, after the
Princess had rewarded the knights who had fought the best, the army
dispersed, and the town quieted down, and everything went on just as
usual.
Only the Prince of India remained of all the knights who had fought. He
said he was not well, and wanted a rest before he set out for India,
which was a long way off. So he stopped and rested, and the winter
changed to summer, and the summer to autumn, and he was still there,
and he did not seem as if he were likely to go either. The time slipped
away quietly enough, and no more was heard of Merrymineral—not even a
word. One day when the Lords of the Council had finished sitting for
the day, and were departing, Lord Licec remained, as he always did when
he had anything private to say to the Princess. So she said:
‘Well, my lord, what is it that you wish to tell to me to-day?’
‘I had come, your Majesty, to make a suggestion to you that it would be
greatly to the good of the nation if your Majesty would condescend to
think about marrying some one.’
The Princess was so startled that she quite jumped:
‘Marry any one! good gracious me, whom am I to marry? I don’t know any
one that I like at all.’
Lord Licec stroked his chin:
‘That is rather a drawback,’ he said; ‘but I had thought that perhaps
the Prince of India might——’
But the Princess interrupted him:
‘Oh, he would never do; besides he would have to ask me, and he won’t
do that.’
But it might have been noticed that she blushed just a little as she
said it, so that perhaps she was not quite sincere in what she said.
Lord Licec did not notice that, so he said:
‘Well, if he won’t suit, the only thing to do is to have a tournament,
and then you must marry the winner.’
But she did not seem to like the idea at all.
‘Suppose the winner should turn out a hunchback, or a cripple, or a
very hideous man,’ she said.
‘Your Majesty might arrange it so that the candidates should only be
allowed to tilt if they were sufficiently handsome.’
She agreed to the suggestion.
‘I suppose it is the only thing to do,’ she said; and it was arranged
that in four weeks’ time a grand tournament was to take place for the
hand of the Princess Ismara, and that all the handsome knights in the
world could come if they liked.
As to the Owl, when he was asked if he liked the arrangement, he
gravely nodded his head; so the Princess felt quite safe in her choice,
and the Prince of India felt contented also, for he knew he had a very
good chance of winning, unless some knight of whom he had never heard
should suddenly turn up. He spent the time in between in practising for
the tournament, and he ordered a new set of armour to be sent to him
from India in time.
So every one seemed pleased with the arrangement, except, perhaps, the
ugly knights, but they kept quiet about it.
The month went away quietly, except that the town was gradually filling
with knights, who were coming to take part in the contest. The lists
were erected on a plain just outside the town-walls, and on the day
before the tournament the free seats were already filled with people,
who had come there determined to get places even if they had to wait
all day long and had to sleep there all night. As you may imagine, the
Princess did not get much sleep that night, for she was naturally in
a great fever of excitement thinking about who the knight would be.
One thing she was sure about, and that was, that if she did not like
him she would not have anything to do with him, even if she had to
forfeit her kingdom. However that might be, she did not sleep that
night, and on the morrow she felt quite tired. She dressed herself in
her most splendid robes, and drove to the lists in a little basket-work
pony carriage drawn by eight little mouse-coloured ponies. It was a
beautiful day, and the road to the lists was covered with people who
were going to look on, or to take part in the tournament, and as she
went by they drew up their horses to bow to her, for she had specially
forbidden them to cheer—she said it made her head ache. So she drove
down the hard, white road bowing and smiling to the people, and they
smiled and looked glad too, for they were very fond of their Princess.
After she had gone along thus for about five minutes she overtook the
Prince of India, who was going the same way on his famous horse. The
Prince did not seem to see her—in fact he was engaged in looking very
hard at his spur on the other side.
But the Princess did not mean to pass him like that, so she said
cheerfully:
‘Good morning, Prince.’
He looked up quite astonished:
‘Good morning, your Majesty!’ he said, and he took off his cap and
bowed low in his saddle, for you see he had not got his armour on—he
had sent it on with his page.
The Princess did not know exactly what to say next, so for a moment
they were silent, and the Prince trotted quietly by her side. At last
she said:
‘Are you, too, going to look on at the tournament?’
The Prince answered:
‘I had purposed taking part in it—that, ahem!—is if your Majesty thinks
I am sufficiently handsome, and if you have no other objection.’
The Princess answered quickly:
‘Oh, no objection at all. I should like it very much—that is, if you
are content to run the risk of your life for such a small prize.’
But the Prince only answered:
‘Oh, your Majesty!’ and her Majesty flushed a little at his reply.
So they went on again in silence, and the road began to get fuller and
fuller of people, and the Princess had her time so taken up by managing
her ponies—for she was driving herself, you know—that she could not say
much.
However, just as they reached the entry she said:
‘By the bye, what seat have you got?’
‘I believe they’ve given me a seat over on the south side,’ he answered.
‘Dear me, how careless of them. Why, you’ll have the sun in your face
all the time you’re not tilting, and it will give you such a headache.
You’d better come into the Royal Box—they’ve got an awning over that,
and you’ll be able to see much better. Do come.’
So the Prince gave his horse to his page and went with the Princess and
the Owl—for you must remember that the Owl was always perched on her
shoulder.
The lists were very gay with horses, and knights, and heralds, and
many and great were the knights that intended to tilt. They had come
from the uttermost parts of the world—from Kensington, from Nubia,
from—well, from everywhere, for you see they did not get the chance of
fighting for a princess every day. So you may imagine how many suitors
there were. Nearly a thousand came, but a good many of them were not
considered handsome enough, so they either went away in a tiff or else
they stayed to look on. Still it would take a good three days before
the last man had tilted.
The entrance of the Princess was the signal for the music to begin, and
the procession of knights filed past, each one bowing to the Princess
and making his horse perform feats of skill. And then the tournament
began and the knights charged each other, each in their turn. The way
they managed it was for each knight to throw lots for the order of
their fighting, and then they were to be divided into two bodies—the
challengers and those to be challenged; and as it came to the turn of
each challenger, he rode out and touched the shield of the knight on
the other side with whom he wished to fight, and then the victors were
to fight it out among themselves until they were all finished except
one.
The Prince of India happened to be one of the challengers, and his turn
did not come until the afternoon. So during the morning he sat in the
Royal Box talking to the Princess or to the lords and maids in waiting.
But the Princess did not seem to enjoy the gentle and joyous passages
of arms at all, for you see she was very soft-hearted, and did not
like to see the knights knocked off their horses so very roughly. So,
on the whole, she was not nearly so gay as the Prince, and indeed, she
seemed very unhappy when he went to put on his panoply as his turn came
near.
However, he soon afterwards came into the lists dressed in his full
armour, and you may be sure he looked very splendid, mounted on his
black horse—for his armour was entirely of silver, and his shield shone
so brightly that it hurt one’s eyes to look at it, and his long plumes
floated in the wind a great many yards behind him.
The spectators cheered him very much as he caracoled from one end of
the lists to the other, and the Princess quite brightened up as she saw
him.
‘I wonder whose shield he’s going to touch?’ she said to herself; and
when she saw who it was she said:
‘Good gracious me! he’s challenged the Knight of Sarragos; why, he’s
the greatest knight in the world. Oh dear, I’m sure the Prince will be
beaten.’
However, the knights were now going each to his own station at
different ends of the lists. The horses seemed quite as excited as
the knights, and they champed their bits and foamed and pawed up the
ground, while the heralds read the challenge from the Prince of India
to the Knight of Sarragos.
It seemed as if the Princess was right about the strength of the
Knight, for he was of enormous size, and he looked a veritable pillar
of steel as he sat on his horse listening to the challenge. However,
the trumpets for the charge sounded, and away went the knights straight
towards each other like arrows, each one looking along his spear to see
that it was aimed truly for his adversary—covering himself well with
his shield. They went so fast that they could hardly be seen, and the
crash when they met was louder than the loudest peal of thunder you
ever heard.
The Princess shut her eyes at the sound. But she could not keep them
shut, for the people were cheering very loudly. So she opened them
reluctantly, and she seemed quite glad to see that the Knight of
Sarragos had been thrown from his horse by the shock and was rolling
in the dust. It was rather odd that she should be pleased at this,
because as a rule she was sorry for the conquered knight; for myself
I rather think she had wanted the Prince to win all along. Anyhow she
congratulated him warmly on his success when he came back to his seat,
and for the rest of the day she did not seem much interested in the
tilting although some of it was very good, too.
So the first two days passed away and nothing particular happened.
The Prince of India took his turn with the rest, till at last the
third day came and there were only ten knights left. These, too, the
Prince overcame, and it seemed as if all was over and he had gained the
prize; but while the heralds were still calling for any one to come
and defeat the Prince, and while every one was holding their breath
in expectation, a loud blast from a trumpet sounded through the air,
and at the other end of the lists a knight appeared. He was a very
tall and splendid-looking knight—for his armour was of gold, and the
crest on his helmet-top was a dragon carved out of a rose-red ruby of
enormous size; and the point of his lance was made of one diamond,
that sparkled in the sun a great deal more brightly than any dewdrop
on a spring morning. And as to handsome, why he was a perfect blaze
of handsomeness, so that there could be no objection to him. The only
thing was, no one knew who he was, or where he came from.
So the Princess beckoned him to her, and he came and bowed low in his
saddle.
‘Who are you, Sir Knight?’ she asked; ‘and where do you come from?’
‘I am the Knight of London, your Majesty.’
‘London, London; where’s that?—I’ve never heard of it.’
‘London is the capital city of England.’
‘But where _is_ England?’ she asked.
‘I had thought that every one had heard of England,’ he said. ‘However,
as no report of England has ever reached your ears, I will tell your
Majesty. The British Islands, of which England is one, are a set of
small islands off the west coast of Europe. They are composed of
England, Scot——’
But here the Princess interrupted him.
‘I thank you, Sir Knight, for your information, but just now the
tournament is waiting for you, and I am not very fond of geography
lessons.’
The Knight bowed again, and retired to take up his place in the lists.
‘How very handsome he is!’ said the Princess to one of her maids in
waiting.
And the lady answered:
‘Oh, quite too handsome!’
However, by this time both the knights were in their places, and the
Princess nodded to the heralds to give the signal.
‘_Laissez aller_,’ they cried, which is the French for ‘Go.’
And they did go with a vengeance—they went so fast that they looked
all blurred together like streaks of lightning. And when they met, it
was louder than thunder, louder than the shock of avalanches, louder
than—well, louder than everything you ever heard, except perhaps when
some one lets the tea-tray fall down the kitchen stairs.
And when the dust cleared up, the poor Knight of India was rolling
on the ground in a heap, composed of himself and his horse. But the
Princess did not seem very sorry for him—so wags the world.
The Knight of London, however, was seated in his saddle as firmly as
if he were part of it; and as there seemed nothing else to do, he
commanded his heralds to challenge any one who should wish to dispute
his right to the victory. But no one came out, for either there was
no one else left, or else the knights were afraid to enter the lists
against one who had overthrown so easily so doughty a knight as the
Prince of India. However that might be, no one turned up, so the Knight
of London was declared the victor. The shout that was raised at this
declaration was not very tremendous, for most of the people liked the
Prince of India, whereas they did not care much for the new-comer. But
he did not seem to mind it much, and he went smilingly to the Princess.
As he came before the royal presence he made his horse kneel, and
advance kneeling, till he was quite close.
Then he said:
‘As no one appears to dispute my right I believe I am the victor, and
in virtue of that right I claim your Majesty’s hand.’
But the Princess laughed.
‘Oh, we’ll see about that to-morrow; there’ll be plenty of time then.
Meanwhile, this evening we are going to give a ball at the palace, to
which all who have taken part in the tournament are invited. Of course
you’ll come, won’t you?’
‘Of course I will, at your invitation, your Majesty, but——’
What he was going to say was drowned in an immoderate fit of laughter,
which came from the Prince of India.
‘Ha! ha! ha!’ he laughed. ‘Can’t you see who it is you’re talking to?’
he continued, talking to the Princess.
The Princess drew herself up.
‘I believe I am talking to the Knight of London,’ she said severely.
‘The Knight of London! why he’s no more the Knight of London than I am.
Why, your Majesty must be blind or mad, or both, not to see who he is.
Blind’s not enough to express it. You——’
But he got no farther, for the Princess called for the police to arrest
him, but before they could get at him he had fainted; for the spear of
the Knight of London had gone right through his side. So the Princess
told the police to lift him up gently and to carry him to his house in
the town.
But the Knight of London frowned:
‘If I were you, your Majesty, I should order them to cut his head off
on the first opportunity. To call you mad and blind—why I’ve never
heard of such a thing.’
But the Princess said:
‘That would never do. Why, he is an independent prince, and if I hurt
him it would bring on a war with India, and goodness knows what else.
However, I’ll have him turned out of the kingdom as soon as he is well
enough to go. However, I am going back now. Mind and be in time this
evening.’
So he went to doff his armour, and she drove home once more—this time
without the poor Prince, who was being carried behind in an ambulance
waggon. The rest of the day passed off somehow, and the night came at
last, as nights are in the habit of doing, and with the night came
knights—no longer dressed in steel armour, but gorgeous in velvet and
silk and evening dress. But, however gorgeous and fine they might be,
the Knight of London outstripped them all, in dress, manners, looks,
and everything else, and the Princess said he had the best step of any
one she had ever known—and she ought to know, for she danced with him
a great many times. In fact, by the end of the ball she had forgotten
all about the poor Prince, for the Knight of London was a most
enchanting person—although one thing did seem strange, and that was,
that the Knight seemed positively afraid of the Owl; and at supper-time
he actually refused to sit on the right hand of the Princess because
the Owl was sitting on her right shoulder.
But the Owl took no notice of him at all, and never even looked at him,
so she thought it was only a rather foolish prejudice on his part.
However, the ball came to an end at last, and the Princess went to bed
and dreamt pleasantly of some one, but it was not the Prince this time.
And the Prince lay tossing on his bed only half dreaming, and not
pleasantly, of some one, and it _was_ the Princess. As for the Knight
of London, nobody knows what he dreamt about; and, to tell the truth,
nobody cared. But the Owl sat at the head of the Princess’s bed,
and slept calmly,—he did not dream; owls are not in the habit of
dreaming—they are a good deal wiser.
When the next morning came, the Knight of London came with it, and he
wanted to know when the Princess would marry him; but the Princess put
him off—for somehow, although she liked him very much, she did not
altogether relish the idea of marrying so soon. So she told him that he
must wait until the Lords of the Council had given their consent, and
they were not going to meet till the next day, so he would have to wait
till then. But the Knight did not like this at all.
‘At all events, my dear Princess,’ he said, ‘you might promise to marry
me, for, after all, I did win the tournament, you see, and so——’
But the Princess put her hand to her chin and rubbed it softly as if
she were thinking very deeply—and no doubt she was—and shook her head
emphatically.
‘No; I can’t promise until the Council have given their consent, for
you see that would be unconstitutional, and I can’t be that even for
you.’
The Knight seemed quite angry.