"Because I haven't got wings, I suppose," the Queen said.
"You shouldn't suppose," the bat said sharply. "Half the evils in the
world come from people supposing."
"What are the 'evils in the world'?" the Queen said.
And the bat answered, "What! don't you even know that, you ignorant
little thing? The evils in the world are ever so many--strong winds so
that one can't fly straight, and cold weather so that the flies die, and
rheumatic pains in one's wing-joints, and cats and swallows."
"I like cats," the Queen said; "and swallows are very pretty."
"That's what _you_ think," the bat said angrily. "But you're nobody.
Now, I hate cats because they always want to eat me; and I hate swallows
because they always eat what I want to eat--flies. They are the real
evils of the world."
The Queen saw that he was angry, and she held her peace for a while.
"I'm not nobody, all the same," she thought to herself, "I'm the Queen
of the 'most prosperous and contented nation in the world,' though I
don't quite understand what it means. But it will never do to offend the
bat, it is so dreadfully dull when he won't talk;" so she said, "Would
it be possible for me to fly?" for a great longing had come into her
heart to be able to fly away out of the garden with the roses and the
marble bench.
"Well, it certainly won't be if you suppose you can't," the bat said.
"Now, when I was a mouse, I used to suppose I couldn't fly, and so, of
course, I couldn't. But, one day, I saved the life of a cockchafer that
had got into a beetle-trap, and he told me how it was to be managed."
"How?" the Queen said eagerly.
"Ah, you like cats," the bat said, "and you'd tell them the secret; and
then there'd be no peace for me. Ugh!--flying cats!" And the bat
shuddered and wrapped his wings round his head.
"Oh, but I promise I won't tell," the Queen said eagerly; "indeed I do.
Dear bat, you are so wise, and so good, and so handsome, do tell me."
Now, the bat was rather susceptible to compliments, and so he unshrouded
his head, pretending not to have heard, though he had.
"What did you say?" he said.
And the Queen repeated her words.
That pleased him, and he answered, "Well, there's a certain flower that
has two remarkable properties--one, that people who carry it about with
them can always fly, and the other, that it will restore the blind to
sight."
"Yes; but I shall have to travel over ever so many mountains and rivers
and things before I can find it," the Queen said dismally.
"How do you know that?" the bat asked sharply.
"I don't know it, I only supposed it; at least I've read it in books."
"Well, of course, if you go supposing things and reading them in books,
I can't do anything for you," the bat said. "The only good I can see in
books is that they breed bookworms, and the worms turn into flies; but
even they aren't very good to eat. When I was a mouse, though, I used
to nibble books to pieces, and the bits made rare good nests. So there
is some good in the most useless of things. But I don't need a nest now
that I can fly."
"How did you come to be able to fly?" the Queen asked.
"Well, after what the cockchafer told me, I just ran out into the
garden, and when I found the flower, as I hadn't any pocket to put it in
so as to have it always by me, I just ate it up, and from that time
forward I have been able to fly ever so well."
The Queen said, "Oh, how nice! And is the flower actually here in the
garden? Tell me which it is, please do."
"Well, I'll tell you if you'll bring me a nice piece of raw meat, and a
little red flannel for my rheumatism."
Just at that moment the sound of a great bell sounded out into the
garden.
"Oh, how annoying!" the Queen said. "Just as it was beginning to be
interesting! Now I shall have to go in to dinner. But I'll bring you
the meat and the flannel to-morrow, and then you'll tell me, won't you?"
The bat said, "We'll see about it," and so the Queen arose from her
seat, and, stooping to avoid the roses that caught at her, went out
towards the palace and up the marble steps into it.
The palace was an enormous hall, all of marble, and very, very cold.
The dining-room itself was a vast hall, as long as an ordinary street,
with a table as long and as broad as the roadway thereof, so that the
poor little Queen felt rather lonely, sitting at one end of it, with the
enormous vessels all of gold, and the great gold candlesticks, and the
long line of deaf and dumb domestics that stood and looked on, or
presented their dishes kneeling.
Generally the Regent's wife, or, if he hadn't one, his sister or mother,
acted as the Queen's governess, and stood behind her chair. But that
evening there was no one at all.
"I suppose they've cut her head off," the Queen said resignedly. "I
wonder what the next one will be like. But I shan't be bothered with
her long, if the bat tells me how to fly. I shall just go right off
somewhere, and see mountains, and valleys, and rivers, and seas; and
hundreds and hundreds of wonderful things out of books. Oh, it will be
lovely! And as to the Regents, they can just cut each other's heads off
as much as they like."
And so, having dined, she went to bed, and lay a long time awake
thinking how delightful it would be to fly.
The next morning, at breakfast, she found a note to say that the Lord
Blackjowl desired an early audience with her on the subject of the
Regency.
"I suppose I _must_ go," the Queen said. "I do hope he won't be much
wounded, it's so nasty to look at, and I _did_ want to go into the
garden to see the bat."
However, she went down into the audience chamber at once, to get it
over. The guard drew back the curtain in the doorway and she went in. A
great man with a black beard was awaiting her, and at her entrance sank
down on one knee.
"Oh, get up, please," she said. "I don't like talking to men when they
kneel, it looks so stupid. What is it you want? I suppose it's about
the Regency."
The Lord Blackjowl arose. His eyes were little and sharp; they seemed
to look right through the Queen.
"Your Majesty is correct, as so peerless a lady must be," he said "The
nobles and people were groaning under the yoke of the late traitor and
tyrant who called himself Regent, and so we took the liberty, the great
liberty, of----"
"Oh yes, I know what you want," the Queen interrupted him. "You want to
be pardoned for the unconstitutionality of it. So I suppose I shall
have to pardon you. If you give me the paper I'll sign it."
The Lord Blackjowl handed her one of many papers that he held in his
hand.
"If your Majesty will be graciously pleased to sign it here."
So the Queen sat down at a table and signed the crackling paper
"Eldrida--Queen."
"I never sign it 'Eldrida R.,'" she said. "It's ridiculous to sign it
in a language that isn't one's own. Now I suppose you want me to sign a
paper appointing you Regent?"
The Lord Blackjowl looked at her from under his shaggy eyebrows.
"That was included in the paper your Majesty has been graciously pleased
to sign."
"But I didn't know anything about it," the Queen said hotly. "Now
that's deceiving, and I shall never be able to trust anything you give
me to sign without reading it. I've a good mind to take it back again."
"I assure your Majesty," the lord answered, with a low bow, "I merely
wished to save your Majesty the trouble of twice appending your gracious
signature when once would suffice."
"But why didn't you tell me what was in it?" she asked, a little
mollified.
"Merely because your Majesty took the words out of my mouth, if I may so
say."