THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE
King Sidney's remonstrances to Clarence on his extravagances were put in
too mild a form to offend. "Perhaps I _have_ got through rather a lot
lately," the Crown Prince admitted. "Not that I spend much on
myself--precious little chance in a bally place like this. It mostly
goes in tips. You see, the peasants about here think anything under a
purse of gold stingy. But it certainly struck me the last time I went to
the Counting-house that what sacks there were looked a bit flabby. When
do you expect some more in?"
"The Lord Treasurer thinks one or two may be delivered in a week or
so--but we shall want considerably more than that to pay our way, and I
don't see myself where it's to come from."
"I suppose," said Clarence, "it wouldn't quite do to have the gates
melted down, or the thrones; but there's any amount of other gold
furniture knocking about--what's the matter with coining that?"
"It _did_ occur to me," confessed King Sidney, "but the Court
Chamberlain says they're only silver gilt, and that's no good _here_,
you know."
"Well," said Clarence, "it's pretty clear that we shall all be in the
cart if we can't find some way to raise the wind."
A day or two later he burst into the Royal Parlour where his father was
sitting disconsolately alone. "I've found it, Guv'nor," he announced
triumphantly.
"Eh, my boy, found, what?"
"The way to raise the wind. I've been in to see little Pop-Eye--_you_
know, the Astrologer Royal."
"Xuriel? I haven't seen him since that--er--match I played with the
Marshal."
"I daresay not. The _Marshal_ saw him, though--and he hasn't been fit to
be seen in public since. Well, it seems he's been pottering away at
Magic all this time on the quiet--and quite lately he's come upon an old
spell-book of his father's and tried some of the formulas in it. And
he's turned out one little thing that's simply _it_. I bought it of him
on the spot. I'll have it brought in here for you to see."
When it was brought it was not much to look at, being just an ordinary
round table of the plainest design.
"Ah, but you wait," said Clarence. "Just say to it 'Little table, be
laid.'"
"Really, my boy," protested his father, who had evidently forgotten his
Grimm's Fairy Tales, "I can't bring myself to----"
"Try it, Guv'nor--and see what happens."
"Oh well, it's all nonsense--all nonsense--but--er--'Little table be
laid.'"
Instantly the table was covered with a snowy linen cloth and laid with a
daintily prepared meal for one person, including a small flagon of wine
and a knife and even a two-pronged fork.
"Neat, isn't it?" remarked Clarence. "The little joker wouldn't part
with it at first--afraid of getting into more hot water about it."
"I don't suppose for a moment the food's genuine," said the King.
"Well," he pronounced, after trying it, "I'm bound to say it's quite
tasty--really very tasty indeed. I think I'll have a little more--ate so
little at lunch. The wine isn't at all bad either--sort of Moselle
flavour. It would be awkward if your mother were to come in just now,
eh?"
"If you've done," said Clarence, "all you've got to say is: 'Little
table, be cleared.'"
The King repeated the words, and the table became bare as before.
"Highly ingenious," he said; "but all the same, my boy, considering the
_cuisine_ we have in the Palace already, it seems a waste of money to
buy it."
"But there's money in it, Guv'nor--money enough to make us all
millionaires if we go the right way to work it! Listen to me. Xuriel
says he could easily make any quantity of these tables--produce 'em in
all styles and sizes, to dine any number, if you and the Mater will only
give him a free hand."
"I think you're forgetting, my boy," said King Sidney with dignity,
"that there is a law--a law which your mother and I think a very wise
and salutary one--against the practice of anything in the nature
of--ah--Magic in our dominions."
"Oh, I know _that_," said Clarence. "But you can alter it easily enough,
can't you?"
"No doubt we could. But why _should_ we?"
"Do you mean to say you don't see why? And you've been a business man
all your life! Of course, we shouldn't give Xuriel such a concession as
this except on our own terms. He's willing to let us take two-thirds of
the selling price of every table he sells. And they'll sell like hot
cakes! Why, there won't be a family in all Märchenland that can afford
to be without one. They'll pay any price we like to put on such an
article as this. Just _think_ of it, Dad! No expenses--no risk--and a
bigger income than we could ever hope for from any bally mine. You
_can't_ let a chance like that slip through your fingers!"
"I quite see the possibilities, my boy!" said the King; "and in
fact--but I can't decide one way or the other till I know what your
Mother thinks of it."
Queen Selina took an unexpectedly broad-minded view of the scheme as
soon as she fully understood its advantages.
"Of course," she said, "nothing would induce me to encourage any
enterprise that was based on Sorcery. But the Astrologer Royal is far
too respectable a little man to have anything to do with _that_. And
these tables would be such a boon to so many hundreds! We cannot leave
that out of consideration. The dear people will be so grateful to us for
allowing them to be placed within the reach of the humblest. I daresay
Mr. Xuriel would supply them on the hire system. And as for there being
any Magic about the process--if there _is_, it's quite harmless, and
it's much more probable that it can be accounted for by purely natural
causes which unscientific persons like ourselves can't be expected to
understand. After all, who really _knows_?"
"And who really _cares_?" added Clarence, "so long as the tables sell.
It's lucky the Guv'nor and I have had a business training. We shall be
able to check Master Xuriel's accounts--he'll do us in the eye if he
can, I'll bet. We'd better start it as a private company. The Patent
Self-supplying Tables Co., Limited. Under Royal Patronage, what?"
"I cannot have any in the Palace," objected the Queen. "The _chefs_
would make such a fuss if I did. And another thing, Clarence--it mustn't
on any account be known that _we_ take a share of the profits. A Royal
Family has to be so very careful that its actions are not
misinterpreted."
"We'll be sleeping partners, Mater," said the Crown Prince, "and I don't
fancy Master Xuriel will be such a fool as to give us away. So far as
the Public'll know, we're interested in the venture on strictly
philanthropic principles."
"And that will be quite true," added Queen Selina, "for I can
conscientiously say that I wouldn't be connected with it if I didn't
feel it was for the general advantage."
Thus was the "Patent Self-supplying Tables Co., Ltd.," founded. A large
disused granary in the City was adapted as an Emporium, and the
Astrologer Royal, after working day and night for a week, filled it with
an extensive stock of dining-tables which were graduated to suit the
needs of every class of purchaser.
As Clarence had predicted, they met with a ready sale, for, although
Märchenlanders had a tradition of the existence of such tables, they had
never expected to be able to procure one for themselves by cash payment.
It was obvious to all that an article which simplified housekeeping by
rendering both cook and kitchen fire superfluous was cheap at almost any
price, and the demand was so great that Xuriel had to work harder than
ever to keep pace with it.
And everybody expressed the greatest satisfaction with the tables when
delivered--except, indeed, those citizens who earned their livelihood as
provision-dealers. They protested that they were being ruined by what
they chose to call unfair competition, and even sent a deputation to the
Palace to represent their grievances.
"Show them into the Hall of Audience," said King Sidney, when he was
told of their arrival, "and tell them I will be with them presently and
hear anything they may have to say."
After he had done so he addressed them in a paternal manner, but with
sound common-sense. It was very unfortunate, he admitted, but it was one
of these cases where a small minority had to suffer for the benefit of
the community at large. As a constitutional and democratic Monarch, he
could not interfere to restrict the production of articles that
increased the comfort and well-being of the vast majority of his beloved
subjects. The deputation had his sincere sympathy, but he could do no
more than offer them his advice, which was to escape the starvation they
seemed--a little unnecessarily, if he might say so--to apprehend by
immediately investing their savings in these self-supplying tables. He
added that, from all he could hear, he thought it very probable that the
prices would go up very shortly.
The deputation then thanked him and withdrew. Such dealers as could
afford the outlay followed his advice, and very soon the sacks in the
Sovereign's Counting-house were fuller than ever, and all danger of a
Royal bankruptcy was happily at an end, while the Family had the
additional pleasure of finding themselves popular once more.
Strictly speaking, the Astrologer Royal had not been authorised to
employ his occult skill in producing any objects but the self-supplying
dinner-tables, though it was rumoured that his industry was not entirely
confined to these. He certainly sold the Crown Prince a sword with which
he could face undismayed the fiercest of bears and boars, while the old
Court Chamberlain bought a silk skull-cap that he found most useful on
occasions when he did not desire to attract attention. But, perhaps from
unwillingness to get Xuriel into trouble, neither of them made any
mention of these purchases.
Clarence should have been satisfied, for his feats in the saddle and his
daring in the forest, where he slew every wild beast he encountered, had
rendered him a hero in the eyes of the populace, and even of the Court.
And yet he was very far from being satisfied--for what was the good of
his glory if it brought him no nearer Daphne? He hoped it was making an
impression, but he could not be certain, because he never succeeded in
getting a moment alone with her. When she was not in attendance on his
Mother she was either with Ruby or the ladies-in-waiting, or, worse
still, surrounded by courtiers who had not the tact to withdraw on his
appearance. And although she did not seem to show a preference for any
one in particular, that did not prevent him from being furiously jealous
of them all.
One afternoon Daphne received a message by one of the pages that she was
wanted at once in the Hall of Audience by Princess Edna. But when she
obeyed the summons the only person she found in the hall was the Crown
Prince in hunting costume, with high boots and a plumed hat.
"It's all right," he called out as she hesitated, "Edna will be here
directly.... You look as if you didn't believe me."
"I'm afraid I don't, your Royal Highness," said Daphne.
"Don't you? Well, you're right. It was not Edna that sent for you. It
was me."
"You might have sent for me in your own name, Prince Clarence."
"I daresay! And then you'd have got out of coming! I've something I
particularly want to say to you. And I say--_do_ sit down. It's like
this," he proceeded, after Daphne had sat down on one of the benches, "I
never seem to see anything of you now--what with all those Courtier
chaps always hanging about you. I wonder you let 'em. You wouldn't if
you knew as much about 'em as _I_ do. Why, that fellow Hansmeinigel's
ancestor was half a hedgehog--a beastly common ordinary hedgehog, by
Gad!--and as for young Bohnenranken----"
"Your Royal Highness may spare yourself the trouble of going on," said
Daphne. "I know all about their descent already--from themselves.
They're not in the least ashamed of their ancestors--indeed they're very
proud of them."
"More than I should be if they were mine. Anyhow, there isn't one of 'em
that's fit for you to make a pal of."
"You would have more right to say that, Prince Clarence, if I had ever
shown the slightest inclination to treat them as 'pals.'"
"You can look higher than bounders like them. And I must say I feel a
bit hurt, that you haven't taken more notice of all I've been doing to
please you. I mean, learning to ride as I've done, and leading an active
life, and all that."
"I really thought your Royal Highness was doing it for your own
pleasure. But of course I've noticed the change, and if I've had any
share in bringing it about, I'm very glad."
"And is that all I'm to get by it? I want a lot more than that. I want
_you_!"
"Don't be absurd, Prince Clarence," said Daphne. "You know very well you
would never be allowed to marry _me_, even if _I_----"
"Oh, of course, I know that. But--but, you see, I--er--well, I wasn't
thinking of _marriage_ exactly."
"Then," said Daphne, with ominous quietness, "would your Royal Highness
be good enough to explain what you _were_ thinking of exactly?"
"Well," he said, "_my_ idea was something more in the nature of a--what
do you call it?--a morganatic alliance. Of course even that would have
to be kept dark because of the Mater, but----"
Daphne rose. "Prince Clarence," she said, "is it because I have been
your sister's Governess that you think you have the right to insult me
like this?"
"It isn't an insult," he protested; "you don't understand. I assure you
it's quite the usual thing in cases like ours. You'd be none the less
thought of--rather the other way about. So why take this narrow-minded,
prudish view of it? I didn't expect it--from _you_, you know!"
"Probably," said Daphne, "you don't expect to get your ears boxed--but
you will, if you dare to say any more."
"Oh, do you think you'd better?" he asked. "I mean--smacking a Crown
Prince's head--well, it's a jolly serious offence, you know--what?"
"I suppose," she said scornfully, "you think I should deserve to be
_executed_ for it."
"It would make a good 'par' in the papers," he replied, "if we had any
papers here. Something of this sort: 'The execution of Lady Daphne took
place yesterday in the Market Square. There was no hitch, everything,
including Lady Daphne's head, going off with the greatest _éclat_. The
Crown Prince was expected to be present, but was unavoidably detained
out hunting.'... Ah, you're laughing! You're not so very angry with me
after all!"
"I was," said Daphne; "but, after all, you don't know any better, and it
really isn't worth while. Still, as it seems I can't expect any
consideration from your Royal Highness, it will be impossible for me to
remain in her Majesty's service."
He began to realise at last how deeply he had offended her, and to
desire a reconciliation on almost any terms.
"No, I say," he pleaded, "don't take it like that. I--I made a mistake.
I'll never do it again. I swear I won't! _Now_ won't you stay?"
Daphne looked at him for a moment before she replied. "I wouldn't stay,
Prince Clarence," she said, "if I didn't believe you really are a little
sorry and ashamed of yourself. And I will only stay now on condition
that you never try to speak to me again except in public."
He had a sudden sense of what this would be to him--he might almost as
well lose her altogether. There was only one way of obtaining her full
forgiveness and the privilege of being alone with her as often as he
wished. Of course he would have to pay pretty dearly for it--but, hang
it, she was worth making some sacrifice for! He might be able to get
round his people after all.... Yes, he'd take the plunge, whatever it
cost him.
"But--but look here," he began desperately, "suppose--suppose I ask
you"--he was on the point of adding, "to be my wife," when the words
died on his lips as he saw that his mother had just entered the Audience
Chamber. "Not now," he broke off heartily, "some other time."
Queen Selina regarded Daphne with cold displeasure for a moment or two
before speaking. "I was not aware, Miss Heritage," she said, "that your
duties required you to be in this part of the Palace at _any_ time."
"I had a summons, your Majesty," explained Daphne, "which I understood
was from the Princess Royal, to come to her in the Hall of Audience, or
I should not be here."
"If her Royal Highness had required you at all, Miss Heritage, I think
it more likely, on the whole, that she would have sent for you to my
Bower, where she has been sitting with me all the afternoon. But I will
find out if the message came from her."
Daphne bit her lip.
"It did not, your Majesty," she said; "I know now that it was given to
me--by mistake."
"A mistake, Miss Heritage, which I trust will not happen again. And, as
it is the hour when you should be in attendance on Princess Ruby, I will
ask you to go to her at once."
"_She_ wasn't to blame, Mater," said Clarence, after Daphne had left the
Hall. "It was all my fault. _I_ sent her that message."
"It's very chivalrous of you, Clarence, to take the blame on yourself,"
replied his Mother; "but don't imagine you can deceive _me_. I know very
well you are much too clever and wideawake to do anything so
compromising. That girl is doing her best to entrap you into some rash
promise. I've suspected it for some time."
"No, I don't think so, really, Mater. Just before you came in she was
asking me to promise not to speak to her again, except in public."
"And didn't you see that was just her artful way of leading you on? But
of course you did! As if you could fail to see through such an obvious
trick as that."
Now Clarence came to think of it, it _was_ pretty obvious. He shuddered
to remember how very nearly he had been taken in by it. But the
shrewdest man is liable to lose his head for the moment. Fortunately he
had recovered his in time.
"Well, Mater," he said, "I wasn't born yesterday, you know. I flatter
myself I'm up to most moves on the board. And you may depend upon it if
she's had any designs on me--mind you, I don't say she _has_--but _if_
she has, she sees now that they'll never come to anything. She's given
me up as a hopeless proposition."
This statement was inspired less by any personal conviction than by the
dread that without such reassurance his anxious Mother might dismiss
Daphne on the spot.
Queen Selina did not dismiss Daphne, whose powers of keeping Ruby amused
and the ladies-in-waiting in good humour were too valuable to be
dispensed with unless it was absolutely necessary. But she was allowed
to see in many ways that she had fallen from favour. One of these was
she was no longer invited to take part in the daily drives, a
deprivation which would alone have consoled her for much worse
penalties.
And she was freed from any further importunities from the Crown Prince,
who kept his side of the compact by maintaining a cold and lofty
dignity. Clarence intended this to convey that his eyes were at last
open to her designs, and that it would be useless for her to seek to
beguile him any longer. But as Daphne was quite guiltless of any designs
at all, she was merely grateful to him for leaving her in peace.
Queen Selina generally left it to the Marshal to direct her excursions,
and he always rode beside the Royal coach. One afternoon he had
conducted her and her eldest daughter by a road across a fertile plain
dotted with pleasant villages and isolated farmhouses, towards the
outlying spurs of a range of mountains.
On one of these spurs the Queen happened to notice a large castle, whose
grim-looking keep and towers were surrounded by a high and far-extending
wall, while at its rear rose a frowning black crag.
"Tell me, Marshal," she said, "whose place is that, and who lives
there?"
"That is Castle Drachenstolz, your Majesty," he said. "It has belonged
for many centuries to a Count who chose, at some time during the
previous reign, to change the original family name to that of von
Rubenfresser. It's present occupant is the last of the race, the young
Count Ruprecht."
"Really!" said the Queen, "considering the Count is so near a neighbour
of ours, he _might_ have had the civility to call, or at least leave
cards, on us before now!"
"He would no doubt be happy to present himself at Court, Madam, if he
were not under strict orders never to go outside his Castle walls."
"But why not?"
"His parents were accused, whether justly or not I cannot say, of
certain malpractices, and the late King, your Majesty's gracious
grandfather, ordered them both to be put to death. Burnt alive, if I
remember rightly. This youth, being a mere infant at that period, was
allowed to live, but in semi-confinement within his ancestral walls,
with a custodian (who is now removed), and a few old family retainers,
who are the only persons he has ever been permitted to see."
"And is there anything against the young Count himself?"
"Nothing whatever," replied the Marshal. "He has been brought up in the
simplest manner and on the strictest principles, and by all accounts, is
a most amiable and excellent young man."
"It seems rather hard that he should have been a prisoner all these
years," said Princess Edna, "for no fault of his own."
"It does seem hard, your Royal Highness, and, in fact, while I was
Regent I was on the point of ordering him to be allowed at large,
when--when I was relieved of all responsibility. However, his lot is not
a very severe one. The estate is large, and he can drive or walk
anywhere within its boundaries. I understand that he spends much of his
time in his kitchen garden, where he has brought the art of forcing
certain vegetables to truly wonderful perfection."
The young Count did not sound from this description particularly
exciting, even to Edna, but still she could not get him and his
undeserved captivity out of her thoughts, and, as soon as she got back
to the Palace, she attacked the King on the subject.
"It's all very well, father," she concluded indignantly, "but in these
days you simply _can't_ keep that young man shut up for life just
because my great-grandfather chose to have his parents burnt alive--most
likely for no reason at all."
"_I_ don't want to keep him shut up, my dear. Never heard of him before.
I am quite willing to set him free if I am satisfied that it's the right
thing to do."
"Of course it's the right thing to do, Sidney," said his wife; "and,
what's more, it will be very popular. Just one of these gracious little
acts of clemency that go home to people's hearts. The Marshal quite
agreed with me about that."
"Oh, very well," said the King, "I'll send a herald over to tell him he
needn't consider himself a prisoner for the future."
"We owe him more than that, Sidney," said the Queen; "we ought at
_least_ to ask him over to lunch."
"Yes, we might do that," agreed Edna; "not that he's likely to accept."
"He cannot refuse a Royal command, my love," said her mother.
The Count did not refuse. On the appointed day Clarence and his sisters
saw from one of the windows a dilapidated sable coach drawn by eight
very ancient coal-black horses turn into the Courtyard.
"Only wants a few undertaker's men in weepers to be a really classy
funeral!" was the Crown Prince's tribute to this equipage. "'Come to
bury Cæsar, not to praise him,' as Hamlet or some other Shakespearian
Johnny says, what?"
When the young Count von Rubenfresser was ushered into the Royal
presence his entrance made a slight sensation. Nobody had been prepared
for the fact that he was much nearer seven than six feet in height.
Otherwise there was nothing alarming about him; he wore his flaxen hair
rather long and arranged over the centre of his head in a sort of roll;
his china-blue eyes (which Ruby said afterwards was "plain all round,
like a fish's eyes") were singularly candid; he had a clear, fresh
complexion, full red lips, and magnificent teeth. He wore a rich suit of
sable as deep as his coach. "Magog in mourning," Clarence christened him
in an undertone.
It was curious that he should have inspired Daphne at first sight with a
vague repulsion, and that Ruby should have felt a similar antipathy,
though, with her, it took the form of a violent fit of the giggles--but
so it was. Daphne was thankful that she was able to remain at a distance
from him, as she was not lunching at the Royal Table.
He was shy at first, as most persons would be if the first meal they had
ever eaten away from their own home had to be consumed in the presence
of Royalty, but he had been evidently trained to observe the ordinary
table etiquette, and as he became more at ease he talked fluently
enough, though at times with a _naïveté_ that was almost childlike, and
increased Clarence's resolve to pull his leg whenever he saw an
opportunity.
"Your Majesties must pardon my asking the question," he said, in his
thin, piping voice, as he helped himself to a cutlet, "but is this what
is called _meat_?"
"So we're given to understand by the butcher, Count," replied Clarence.
"Why do you want to know?"
"Because," he replied, "I've often _heard_ of meat, but this is the
first time I've ever _seen_ it. Do you know," he went on presently, "I
_like_ meat. I shall have some more."
"I should, if I were you," advised Clarence; "it may make you grow!"
which reduced Ruby to silent convulsions.
"Do you really think it _will_?" inquired the Count, either not
noticing, or tactfully disregarding, Princess Ruby's lapse from good
manners. "It might. My poor dear Father and Mother were both great
meat-eaters, I believe, before they took to vegetarianism, which was
quite late in life. I cannot remember seeing them, but I've always
understood that they were much taller than I am."
"You don't say so," returned Clarence. "Must have been most interesting
people to meet."
"They were, your Royal Highness. Though, unfortunately, I cannot speak
of my own knowledge. As your Majesties may be aware, during the short
time they were spared to me I was too young to appreciate their
society."
"Well, well, Count," said Queen Selina, perceiving that this was
delicate ground, "it's all very sad, but you must try not to think about
it now. The Marshal tells me you give a great deal of your time to
growing vegetables. How do tomatoes do with you?"
"I don't pay any attention to tomatoes, your Majesty," he replied, with
a blush that few tomatoes could have outdone. "My efforts have been
chiefly directed to pumpkins. I have reared some particularly fine ones.
I am very fond of pumpkins."
"Jolly little things, ain't they?" put in Clarence. "So playful!"
"_Are_ they?" said the Count with perfect simplicity. "I did not know
that. But then I have never attempted to play with _my_ pumpkins."
"Haven't you?" said Clarence. "Well, you get 'em to play
kiss-in-the-ring with you, and you'll find out how frisky they can be!"
"I do not know anything about kissing," he confessed, "except that it is
very wrong."
"Not _pumpkins_," said the Crown Prince. "There's no harm in that! Ask
the bishop!"
"I say, old girl," he remarked to Princess Edna, after their visitor had
taken his departure, "what on earth induced the Mater to tell that lanky
overgrown lout we should be pleased to see him any time he cared to drop
in? We shall have the beggar running in and out here like a bally
rabbit, you see if we don't!"
"Not if you intend to go on insulting him, Clarence, as you did to-day
at lunch," replied Edna coldly.
"Why, I was only ragging him. Who could help ragging such a champion mug
as that?"
"There is more--far more--in him than you are capable of seeing,
Clarence. And, even from a physical point of view, he is immeasurably
your superior."
"I admit I shouldn't have a look in with him if we were both candidates
for a Freak Show," he conceded. "On the other hand, no one can say I'm
gone at the knees."
"It's a pity, Clarence, that you're so narrow as you are!" she said.
"D'you mean round the chest or calves?" he asked. "Because I'm quite up
to the average measurements."
"I meant, so insular in your prejudices. You were almost _rude_ to the
poor Count. When he was our guest, too!"
"I expect," he said, "that if he's ever our guest again, I shall be a
bit _more_ insular. I can't stick the beggar, somehow!"