It was a rustic seat—one of those queer seats made of branches of
trees, and it stood in an arbour formed of rose-bushes, and there was
plenty of room for two; so she said:
‘Won’t you sit down, Prince?’
But he answered:
‘I really have not the time, your Majesty. I was just about to start
for India, and if your Majesty has no further need of me I will go, and
send an attendant.’
But she did not seem to hear the last part of his sentence, for she
answered:
‘You were going away without saying good-bye to me. Perhaps, however,
you intended to call as you passed the palace.’
‘I really had not intended to, your Majesty, for you seemed to have so
many affairs that I might have interrupted, that I thought it as well
to go without troubling you.’
‘You shouldn’t have thought that. You see I have had so many affairs of
State occupying me that I could not possibly get round to call, and you
didn’t choose to come and see me, which was rather, I think—however,
that doesn’t matter now. I have come to ask you to stop a little
longer—till the day after to-morrow, if you won’t stop after that.’
But the Prince shook his head:
‘I have to go immediately; affairs of State, you know, demand my
presence in India, and I must go at once, your Majesty.’
‘Can’t you really stop a little Prince?’
‘I really can’t, your Majesty—that is——’
‘Oh, please do; I’ll tell you something, if you like. I’ve found out
who the Knight of London is.’
‘And then, your Majesty?’ inquired the Prince.
‘I don’t know what else. I—I thought that would be enough for you.’
‘I don’t understand you, your Majesty.’
‘I mean that when I didn’t know he was a wizard I thought he was very
enchanting; but when I found out he was an enchanter, I thought you
were enchanter—I mean more enchanting.’
The Prince was just saying:
‘Oh, your Majesty,’ when a peculiar noise from the back of the arbour
made them both start, and the Princess jumped up so violently that
the Owl, who had meanwhile gone to sleep, was nearly shaken off her
shoulder.
‘What was that?’ she said.
‘It sounded like somebody laughing, or trying to keep from laughing
rather. Just wait a moment, I’ll see who it was.’
And he went round behind the arbour. He soon returned bringing the
doctor with him, and the doctor did not seem at all happy either.
‘Why,’ said the Princess, ‘I thought you were going to leave me. How is
it that you came like this behind the arbour?’
‘I might just as well ask your Majesty why you came here.’
‘You might, but it would not be answering my question.’
‘I happened to come round there, your Majesty, to read a book in the
shade, and I happened to drop off to sleep, and the noise you heard was
my snoring.’
‘But how did you know we heard a noise if you were asleep at the time?’
‘I—eh—I don’t exactly know, your Majesty.’
‘It’s quite clear you were listening. I’ll excuse you this time, but if
I catch you eavesdropping again I’ll make the Owl take you up into the
sky and drop you—that may be a drop too much for you. You can go now,
but don’t do so any more.’
But the Prince had still hold of him.
‘By the bye,’ he said, ‘there’s a horsepond near here; I think I’ll
just take you there and throw you in, as I said I would if I caught you
again.’
But the Princess said:
‘Oh, let him go, Prince,’ and the doctor hurried off at a great rate.
‘I don’t think he’ll come back again in a hurry,’ said the Prince;
‘meanwhile, what about the Knight of London?’
‘I must get rid of him as soon as I can, and I want you to help me.’
‘I, your Majesty—but how?’
‘The Council have decided that last tournament was not fair, because
the Knight came in fresh and you were already tired out, so they have
decided to have it over again, and you are requested to come and
fight—for me.’
‘But what is the use of that? he’ll knock me over just as he did
before.’
‘Oh no! he won’t, because I’ve found out his secret.’ And she told him
about the paper.
At the end the Prince said:
‘Oh! that’s all right then. I’ll be there, your Majesty.’
‘But are you strong enough, do you think?’
‘Oh yes, your Majesty.’
‘And the affairs of State can be put off till the day after to-morrow.
I promise to let you go as soon as you have got rid of the Knight for
me.’
‘Oh, for the matter of that, there is no such great hurry. I really
needn’t go for some time.’
‘But you can go whenever you like, you know.’
‘Thank you, your Majesty.’
‘But—a—I don’t want you to go, you know. In fact I should like you to
stop, very much.’
‘Then I’ll stop as long as you like, your Majesty—for ever, if you
like, your Majesty.’
‘I should like it very much, Prince,’ she answered.
I don’t exactly know what happened after that—perhaps you can guess—but
they do say that the Owl, who chanced to wake at that moment,
positively blushed; but then people are fond of exaggerating, and the
Owl did not seem to object, so I suppose it was all right; and when the
Princess went back to the palace, the Prince was quite good-tempered
again, whereas before her visit he had been so angry that all his
servants had left in a body—however, they came back when they found he
was quiet again.
So the Princess was quite happy once more, as you may imagine, only
there was one nasty thing she had to do, and that was to send a note to
the Knight of London thanking him for having taken prisoner the King
of the Magi, and hoping that he would be successful at the tournament
on the next day—for you see she was not well enough to see him, and he
was quite sure of winning, as he had done before, so he did not mind it
very much.
The next day came, and the Princess was at the lists as before, and the
crowd was just as great too, only there were very many less knights
to fight, for the Knight of London was the challenger, and he—well,
they had seen how he had treated the Prince of India, and they did not
care to be tumbled over in such a very unceremonious way. However, two
or three of the bravest in the world came and answered his challenge,
but it was no use; they might just as well not have tried, for they
were thrown from their horses so violently that they were most of them
seriously hurt. So it seemed as if he was going to have it all his
own way, for the Prince had as yet not put in an appearance, and the
spectators began to call for him—for, as I said before, they liked
the Prince better than the Knight; although he was so very handsome,
still there was a something about him that they did not like at all.
But the Knight had overcome all who had chosen to come against him,
and his trumpets were sounding the challenge for the last time, and
then their echoes died away and still no answering trumpet came, and
the Princess was beginning to feel afraid that he had gone off to
India and left her. But just as the Knight was advancing to claim his
rights, a trumpet blast rang out brazen and shrill on the still air,
and the Prince of India rode into the lists. He was still pale from his
illness, but the people cheered him loudly, and the Princess gave a
sigh of relief, and quite flushed with joy and excitement.
‘He’ll win this time,’ she said to Lord Licec, who was standing near
her.
‘I don’t know so much about that,’ he answered, ‘for you see the Knight
of London is in very good form to-day; and just look at the Prince’s
shield—it’s made of cardboard, I should think—yes, it is. Ah—I am
afraid his last defeat has rather turned his head.’
The Princess smiled and nodded. Lord Licec thought she was nodding to
him, but she wasn’t; both the smile and the nod were meant for quite
another person.
However, the combatants were already in their places, so she signed to
the heralds to give the signal.
‘_Laissez aller_,’ they cried, and once again the Knight and Prince
charged each other. This time they did not go so fast, and the
spectators could see what took place. It was soon over. The spear of
each of the combatants hit exactly the centre of the other’s shield.
But the spear of the Knight broke as if it had been made of a bulrush.
It was not so with the Prince—for his spear pierced through and through
the seven-fold shield of the Knight, and the Knight himself was thrown
right off his horse on to the ground. He, however, was on his feet
in an instant, and rushed at the Prince, who leapt off his horse and
confronted the Knight.
The Knight made a pass at the Prince with his rapier, but the Prince
caught the thrust on his shield, and the sword came to the same end as
the spear. The Knight had still his heavy battle-axe, and he lifted it
on high to swing it down on to the head of his opponent. The Prince
made no movement to defend himself, and the axe came full on his
crest—through the crest it hit its way, and through the steel helmet,
but when it got past the steel it hit on a paper helm below, and the
axe shivered at the touch as if it had been glass. Then the Prince
caught the Knight by the wrist:
‘Keep still,’ he said, ‘or I run you to the heart with my paper dagger.’
‘You can’t,’ sneered the Knight.
‘Why not?’
‘Because I’m heartless; so you can’t hurt my heart.’
The Prince took no notice of what he said. He had turned to the
Princess, who was clapping her hands for joy—which was rather an
unprincess-like act; but she couldn’t help it.
‘What shall I do with him?’ he said.
‘Let him go, I suppose.’
And the Knight was beginning to walk off as fast as he could. But a
loud and commanding voice came from behind the Princess, and she looked
behind her suddenly, and she almost fainted, for a marvellous change
had come over the Owl, and it was still changing. She rubbed her eyes
in astonishment, and all the people who could see him did so too, and
then a great shout went up from all of ‘God save the King!’ for it was
no longer the Owl they saw—it was the old King.
‘Stop!’ he cried loudly to the Knight, who was slinking off—‘you have
not received your reward yet. Just wait a moment, and to prevent
mistakes just take your ordinary form.’
And again every one present rubbed their eyes in astonishment—for the
handsome calm face of the Knight was shrivelling up, and his raven
hair had become an ugly gray, and the people recognised him too as
an old acquaintance, for he was—who do you think now? Why, he was
Merrymineral—it seemed as if that day gave two instances of old friends
with new faces.
Although he didn’t at all seem to want to stay, he was obliged to stop
at the King’s voice. So he stood in the middle of the lists looking
very uncomfortable—for every one was looking at him. The King began:
‘Now let us see how many crimes you have committed. You have broken
your oath—isn’t that right?’
‘Oh! quite correct, your Majesty.’
‘And you have rebelled against my daughter?’
‘Quite correct, your Majesty.’
‘And you have intended to murder her?’
‘Just so, your Majesty.’
‘And you tried to marry her?’
‘I should have been only too pleased, your Majesty.’
‘And you don’t repent, do you?’
‘Not at all, your Majesty.’
‘And the right punishment for each of your crimes is death?’
‘Just so, your Majesty.’
‘But I don’t care to sentence you to death—it’s not hard enough. I
sentence you to live underground for ten thousand years.’
‘Ten thousand years, your Majesty!’
‘You can go at once, and if I catch you above ground—I shouldn’t like
to be you.’
‘No, your Majesty. Good-day.’
And he kissed his hand to the Princess, and bowed gallantly to the
Prince of India, and then the ground gave way under him—and he has
never been heard of since. But the King turned to the Prince of India
and said:
‘You may go now, Prince.’
The Prince looked astonished.
‘I do not quite understand, your Majesty,’ he said.
The King looked at him and said:
‘You seem to be uncommonly hard of understanding, cousin of India. I
said, You can go.’
‘But I don’t want to go, your Majesty,’ the Prince answered, getting a
little red.
‘Oh, don’t you?’ said the King; ‘from what I heard of a certain
pleasant conversation in a certain summer-house you seemed to have
important affairs of State that demanded instant attention.’
Here the doctor suddenly remarked:
‘If you will excuse me, your Majesty, I beg to differ from you when you
refer to that conversation as pleasant. I myself heard it, or rather
overheard it, and all I can say is I thought it most unpleasant,—most.
That is, if your Majesty will excuse my remark.’
‘But I won’t,’ said the King suddenly. ‘I believe it was you that
suggested I should be confined to a dark cellar for three weeks without
food—eh!’
But the doctor suddenly remembered that he had an important case that
demanded instant attention.
The King turned to the Princess and said:
‘Well—I suppose you can settle it for yourselves, you two, because I’m
going now. I shall come and see you every seven years. Good-bye.’
And he suddenly turned into the Brown Owl, and flitted noiselessly off,
before they could say ‘Good-bye,’ or anything else.
The Prince found that he could manage to postpone his affairs of State
indefinitely, and in a few days the Prince and Princess were married
and lived happily ever afterwards.
THE END
_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, _Edinburgh._
* * * * *
Transcriber’s Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
Page 113, “too” changed to “to” (you’re talking to)