JUDGMENT.
The king and his army returned, bringing with them one prisoner only,
the lord chancellor. Curdie had dragged him from under a fallen tent,
not by the hand of a man, but by the foot of a mule.
When they entered the city, it was still as the grave. The citizens had
fled home. "We must submit," they cried, "or the king and his demons
will destroy us." The king rode through the streets in silence,
ill-pleased with his people. But he stopped his horse in the midst of
the market-place, and called, in a voice loud and clear as the cry of a
silver trumpet, "Go and find your own. Bury your dead, and bring home
your wounded." Then he turned him gloomily to the palace.
Just as they reached the gates, Peter, who, as they went, had been
telling his tale to Curdie, ended it with the words,--
"And so there I was, in the nick of time to save the two princesses!"
"The _two_ princesses, father! The one on the great red horse was the
housemaid," said Curdie, and ran to open the gates for the king.
They found Derba returned before them, and already busy preparing them
food. The king put up his charger with his own hands, rubbed him down,
and fed him.
When they had washed, and eaten and drunk, he called the colonel, and
told Curdie and the page to bring out the traitors and the beasts, and
attend him to the market-place.
By this time the people were crowding back into the city, bearing their
dead and wounded. And there was lamentation in Gwyntystorm, for no one
could comfort himself, and no one had any to comfort him. The nation was
victorious, but the people were conquered.
The king stood in the centre of the market-place, upon the steps of the
ancient cross. He had laid aside his helmet and put on his crown, but he
stood all armed beside, with his sword in his hand. He called the people
to him, and, for all the terror of the beasts, they dared not disobey
him. Those even, who were carrying their wounded laid them down, and
drew near trembling.
Then the king said to Curdie and the page,--
"Set the evil men before me."
[Illustration: "_To the body of the animal they bound the lord
chamberlain, speechless with horror._"]
He looked upon them for a moment in mingled anger and pity, then turned
to the people and said,--
"Behold your trust! Ye slaves, behold your leaders! I would have freed
you, but ye would not be free. Now shall ye be ruled with a rod of iron,
that ye may learn what freedom is, and love it and seek it. These
wretches I will send where they shall mislead you no longer."
He made a sign to Curdie, who immediately brought up the leg serpent. To
the body of the animal they bound the lord chamberlain, speechless with
horror. The butler began to shriek and pray, but they bound him on the
back of Clubhead. One after another, upon the largest of the creatures
they bound the whole seven, each through the unveiling terror looking
the villain he was. Then said the king,--
"I thank you, my good beasts; and I hope to visit you ere long. Take
these evil men with you, and go to your place."
Like a whirlwind they were in the crowd, scattering it like dust. Like
hounds they rushed from the city, their burdens howling and raving.
What became of them I have never heard.
Then the king turned once more to the people and said, "Go to your
houses;" nor vouchsafed them another word. They crept home like chidden
hounds.
The king returned to the palace. He made the colonel a duke, and the
page a knight, and Peter he appointed general of all his mines. But to
Curdie he said,--
"You are my own boy, Curdie. My child cannot choose but love you, and
when you are both grown up--if you both will--you shall marry each
other, and be king and queen when I am gone. Till then be the king's
Curdie."
Irene held out her arms to Curdie. He raised her in his, and she kissed
him.
"And my Curdie too!" she said.
Thereafter the people called him Prince Conrad; but the king always
called him either just _Curdie_, or _My miner-boy_.
They sat down to supper, and Derba and the knight and the housemaid
waited, and Barbara sat on the king's left hand. The housemaid poured
out the wine; and as she poured out for Curdie red wine that foamed in
the cup, as if glad to see the light whence it had been banished so
long, she looked him in the eyes. And Curdie started, and sprang from
his seat, and dropped on his knees, and burst into tears. And the maid
said with a smile, such as none but one could smile,--
"Did I not tell you, Curdie, that it might be you would not know me when
next you saw me?"
Then she went from the room, and in a moment returned in royal purple,
with a crown of diamonds and rubies, from under which her hair went
flowing to the floor, all about her ruby-slippered feet. Her face was
radiant with joy, the joy overshadowed by a faint mist as of
unfulfilment. The king rose and kneeled on one knee before her. All
kneeled in like homage. Then the king would have yielded her his royal
chair. But she made them all sit down, and with her own hands placed at
the table seats for Derba and the page. Then in ruby crown and royal
purple she served them all.