THE REWARD OF VALOUR
If the Fairy Vogelflug could only have known that it was Edna and not
Daphne who was really in danger from the dragon, she would have been
comparatively calm. But since she did not know this, she was, as has
been already stated, entirely unnerved for a time.
Fortunately--or at least she thought it fortunate then,--just before the
creature was near enough to detect them, the long-forgotten words that
formed the spell recurred to her memory. It was a spell that was
admirably adapted to enable any fugitive to escape discovery, but she
had never had occasion to use it before, and to perform it required an
amount of mental concentration from which, in ordinary circumstances,
she would have shrunk. Now she must act at once or they would both
perish, and so she gabbled the necessary incantations, till, though the
effort took a great deal out of her, she eventually succeeded in
changing Daphne into a tall and slender cypress, and herself into a
circular pool in a marble basin--a double transformation which was
calculated to deceive the most observant and intelligent dragon. But,
changed as she was, Daphne remained perfectly conscious of her own
identity and aware of all that was happening. At first she was much
impressed by the Court Godmother's ingenuity and presence of mind, but
as time went on, and the dragon, instead of searching for them, seemed
to have swerved away towards the Palace, she began to wonder whether
there had been any real need for such excessive precautions.
And then Giroflé appeared, and she gathered from his despair what must
have happened to the ill-fated Edna, and that he was under the erroneous
impression that she herself was the victim. Surely now the moment had
come for the Fairy to reverse the spell--but, except that the surface of
the pool was becoming violently disturbed, she made no sign. Daphne
tried by rustling all her branches to attract his attention and assure
him of her safety, but naturally failed. Even when the Court Chamberlain
arrived and Giroflé had rushed away with him, she was forced to stay
behind as an apparent cypress, while the Fairy still retained the
semblance of a more and more agitated pool. Daphne's uneasiness and
anxiety would have been even greater, but for the fact that the reason
for this agitation was mercifully hidden from her. The truth was that
one of those accidents had happened which are not infrequent with
persons who only occasionally practise the Magic Art. The Fairy had
impulsively pronounced the spell that accomplished the transformation
without waiting to recall the precise formula that was needed to regain
her normal appearance, and for several agonising minutes the vitally
important words persisted in evading her. To Daphne it seemed an age
before the marble rim began to contract and the pool dry up, and
presently, to her unspeakable relief, all trace of pool and basin
disappeared, and in their place stood the Fairy Godmother in a sadly
shaken and exhausted condition. She had strength enough, however, to
restore Daphne, which she did with many groans. "I've been trying to do
this for the last quarter of an hour, child," she panted. "I was
beginning to think I'd forgotten the spell altogether. And now he's gone
off on a fool's errand to rescue _you_! But I may still be in time to
stop him!"
"You won't stop Giroflé!" declared Daphne. "He will try to rescue Edna,
just as he would me. And if it can be done he'll do it. I can't bear his
going, Godmother--and yet I hope I shouldn't prevent him, even if I
could!"
"He can't do anything!" said the Fairy. "He couldn't even get into the
Castle, and he won't be so mad as to attempt it. Go you to the Pavilion,
and stay there till I can find out what that old fool of a Baron is
about with him."
Daphne obeyed. She would not deter Giroflé, but to encourage him in his
desperate errand was more than she was equal to just then. The Court
Godmother hitched up her quilted skirts, and went off at a hobbling run
in the direction of the Palace Gardens.
* * * * *
The Baron had led Mirliflor through the Gardens, and then round to a
Courtyard at the back of the Palace in which stood a massive round tower
pierced with many pigeon-holes. Here he brought out a small shell-shaped
car on two wheels, and at his whistle a flock of white doves fluttered
down from the tower, and permitted him to attach them by collars and
traces to the car. "The most gracious the Court Godmother is nowhere to
be found," he explained as he did so, "but assuredly she would not
grudge lending her car for such a purpose as yours, since by no other
means could you hope to get over the walls of Drachenstolz. Once within
them you will find the sword of inestimable service, and I doubt not
that you will wield it to better effect than would its owner. I would
willingly lend you this," he added, fingering the cap, "only maybe your
Royal Highness would not deign to employ means which I understood you
are pleased to consider discreditable?"
"Don't be an ass, Baron!" said Mirliflor, seizing the cap and stepping
into the car. "Where _her_ life is at stake I have no scruples in using
anything whatever. But I've no experience in driving doves--how do I
guide them?"
"They need no guidance, Sire. You have but to utter the words 'To
Drachenstolz,' and they will carry you straight to the Castle and set
you down within its walls. God speed you!" cried the Court Chamberlain,
as the Prince gave the direction, and the birds ascended with the car.
"Heaven grant you bring back your Princess unharmed!"
"Heaven grant I reach her in time!" came the answer from the
dove-chariot, which, after making a few preliminary circles, flew away,
to all appearances unoccupied.
It had scarcely disappeared when the Court Godmother arrived on the
scene. "Where is Giroflé?" she demanded breathlessly.
"His Royal Highness Prince Mirliflor of Clairdelune," replied the Baron,
"has just departed for Drachenstolz in the dove-car, which I knew you
would wish to be at his disposal."
"And pray," said the old Fairy, "what made you think I should wish him
to throw away his life for Princess Edna?"
"He will not fail to rescue her, never fear, Madam. No Prince ever
_does_ fail in these enterprises. And if he succeeds--he need no longer
hesitate to disclose himself, for you will be gratified to hear that
his Majesty has promised the Princess's hand to the person who may
accomplish her rescue. At," added the Baron proudly, "my own
suggestion."
"Oh, indeed?" retorted the Fairy. "Then it is high time you knew
what kind of a Royal Family you have given to Märchenland!" And in
a few sharp sentences she let him know the truth about the pendant
which he had so rashly accepted as all-sufficient proof of Mrs.
Wibberley-Stimpson's title to the throne.
The poor Baron was aghast at the information, and still more when he
heard who was really entitled to the crown. "The Lady Daphne!" he cried.
"But she has been sent away to that far country--and who knows where she
may be now!"
"She is here still, and under my protection," said the Court Godmother.
"In her own interests I had determined to keep silent as to her claims,
and planned that Mirliflor should win her under the form I made him
assume. All had fallen out as I expected--I had just arranged to carry
them both off to Clairdelune, and leave these usurpers in possession for
as long as the Country would endure them--when you blunder in, like the
meddlesome idiot you are, Baron, and upset everything!"
"I have been blind indeed!" he confessed. "A traitor when I thought
myself most loyal! Tell me, most Gracious Court Godmother, how I may
best repair my error?"
"You _can't_ repair it without making more mischief," she said. "The
only thing you can do _now_ is to hold your tongue about it, as I shall
do myself unless I am obliged to speak out. And now we had better go
and see what this precious King and Queen of yours are doing, and
remember, Baron, your own safety will depend on your preserving absolute
secrecy as to all the matters I have found it necessary to acquaint you
with."
* * * * *
On the terrace meanwhile Queen Selina had implored the Marshal to do
something--anything--towards the rescue of her elder daughter. He was
not sanguine; "We could raise a force, your Majesty," he said, "to ride
to Drachenstolz and assault the Castle walls,--but it would be quite
impossible to take it by storm, even if that dragon were not among its
defenders."
"We'll have a try anyway," said Clarence gallantly. "Come on, you
chaps--get into your fighting kit," he cried to the Courtiers. "And two
of you boys," he added to the pages, "just run and fetch me a helmet and
breastplate and things--and bring me down a sword you'll find in my room
somewhere. I shouldn't mind tackling even a dragon with that sword," he
added to his mother, as the Courtiers and pages ran into the Palace. "It
goes clean through anything."
But the pages, when they returned with the breastplate and helmet and
riding-boots, reported that the sword was nowhere to be found, so
Clarence had to content himself with a more ordinary weapon. At the last
moment the Queen tried to detain him. "No, Clarence!" she cried, "you
mustn't go. Your life is too valuable to be risked--there are enough
going without _you_! Stay here--if only to protect us!"
"Hang it all, Mater!" he said, "you can't expect me to stay here and
have them saying I shirked!" And he went off to the stables with the
Marshal and other members of the Court.
"It'll be no good!" groaned King Sidney. "It's as likely as not that
beast has eaten the poor girl by this time!"
"I can't believe anything quite so horrible as that has happened,
Sidney," cried the Queen. "It has only delivered her into that wretch's
power--which is quite horrible enough! But there's hope still. The Baron
says Prince Mirliflor is quite near here--and he's sending him to rescue
her. And a real prince like dear Mirliflor _ought_ to be a match for
that miserable Rubenfresser and his dragon too!"
"If he could get at them he might be," said the King lugubriously; "but
that's just what he can't do!"
* * * * *
On finding herself borne swiftly through the air by a dragon, Edna had
done what was the correct thing to do in the circumstances--she had
promptly fainted. She opened her eyes to find that she had been
deposited uninjured, on a truss of straw in a Courtyard. On her right
was the massive front of Castle Drachenstolz; before her were its lofty
walls and the grim towers that flanked its heavy gate; to the left were
the stables, from the windows of which some of the black carriage horses
looked out, their wrinkled lips exposing their long yellow teeth in
ghastly grins. Some distance away the owner of the Castle was caressing
the dragon, which lay with its huge wings compactly folded, giving its
unconscious imitation of a tremendously powerful dynamo. On perceiving
that she had returned to consciousness the Count came towards her,
followed by the ex-Astrologer Royal, who was smirking and rubbing his
hands.
"I couldn't do without you," began the Count by way of explanation, "so
as I couldn't come myself I sent Tützi for you."
Edna resolved to bear herself with all the dignity of a Queen's
daughter. She sat up and felt for her _pince-nez_, and, discovering that
it was intact, she adjusted it on her nose. "Considering," she said,
"that all is at an end between us, you had no right whatever to send
your dragon to bring me here. It was a thing that no _gentleman_ would
have done!"
"Wouldn't that great and learned gentleman you told me of--the one whose
name I always forget--have done it?" he inquired.
"Nietzsche," said Edna, instructively superior even in such a crisis;
"most certainly not. Even if he had _owned_ a dragon!"
"You told me he did," he insisted; "a great meta-something dragon that
talked and said, 'Thou shalt not.' But if he wouldn't send _his_ dragon
for anybody, he would approve of my sending mine for _you_, because I
was doing as he advised, and acting exactly as I thought fit."
She realised the hopelessness of reasoning with him. "You thought fit to
act most improperly," she said severely, "and you will gain nothing _by_
it, you know!"
"Oh, yes I shall," he said, "or I shouldn't have done it."
"You are quite mistaken," she assured him, "if you are imagining I shall
ever consent to renew our engagement now I know what you _are_."
"I'm what you wanted me to be," he said, "a Superman."
"You're not, you're an--an Ogre. I couldn't possibly bring myself to
become an Ogress!"
"You wouldn't make much of an Ogress," he said dispassionately. "You
haven't the build for it. But I'm not an Ogre even yet. It's not _my_
fault. I meant to begin with those pages of yours--but you all seemed to
have some ridiculous objections. Then I've sent Tützi out to forage and
pick up a small child or two, but the peasants round here are so selfish
and unneighbourly that they never give him the chance--actually shutting
all the children up indoors!"
"What else can you _expect_?" she demanded indignantly. "Surely
your--your better self must see that even to _attempt_ to devour poor
helpless children is--is too perfectly disgusting for words!"
"It's disgusting when one doesn't succeed," he admitted; "I see nothing
in it to object to myself. Of course the average man may, but you've
taught me what to think of _his_ opinions."
"You entirely misunderstand me," said Edna. "But I've no wish to discuss
such subjects with you now--I insist on your allowing me to go home at
once."
"Before I do that," he said, "you must write a letter on my behalf to
your parents."
"I don't mind asking them to overlook the way you have treated me, and
assuring them that you regret it and will behave yourself properly for
the future," conceded Edna, "if you mean _that_."
"I _don't_ mean that," he said; "I don't _want_ to behave properly--what
_they_ would call properly. I want to lead a fuller life than I can
while I'm cooped up in my own Castle. You see, it's no good having the
Will to Power if you're not allowed any opportunities of exercising it.
And I'm not, with guards stationed all round my walk to see that I don't
get out. I might set Tützi at them, it's true, but he is the only dragon
I've got, and it would be very annoying if they hurt the poor thing. So
you must get the King to send me free permission to go wherever I choose
and do whatever I like. Then I can make a start as an Ogre. At present
I'm hampered at every turn!"
"Father and Mother," said Edna, "wouldn't hear of setting you free for
such wickedness as that. It would be contrary to all their principles."
"What I think you called 'Slave-morality,' eh?" he said. "But you
needn't tell them _why_ I want to get out. Besides, I've _other_
reasons. My carriage horses want airing, and I should like to drop in to
lunch at the Palace now and then, as I used to. Not as your betrothed,
you know--that's all over--but just as a friend of the family. I always
enjoyed my meals at the Palace."
"Oh!" gasped Edna, "I'm sure, quite sure, they would never consent to
receive you again. How _could_ they?"
"They would," he said, "if you told them what would be the consequences
if they didn't."
"And--and--what _will_ the consequences be?" inquired Edna.
"Well," he replied darkly, "poor Tützi will never reach his full growth
on his present diet. I fancy he would rather relish a change."
"You _couldn't_ see me--me you were once engaged to--devoured by your
horrible dragon!" she cried.
"Why not?" he asked cheerfully. "I am great enough now to be able to
bear the sight of others' pain, as your learned What's-his-name said I
ought to be."
"Listen," said the unhappy Edna. "If--if I write this letter will you
promise me, on your sacred word of honour, to become a vegetarian at
_once_?"
"Certainly," he said. "It won't _bind_ me, you know. You might put in
the letter that I've promised to. Rather a good touch! Now go and write
it at once, and I'll send Tützi over with it. You can say, 'Please send
answer by bearer!' Xuriel, show the Princess to a chamber and provide
her with writing materials."
"If your Royal Highness will graciously come this way," said the
despicable Xuriel, bowing low. Poor Edna had to follow him up a steep
outside staircase to a gloomy room where deep-set windows commanded a
view of the Courtyard below. He found some sheets of parchment and a
reed pen, and lent her the inkhorn from his own girdle. As he was
depositing these on a great oaken table, he glanced out of the window
and gave a high cackling laugh.
"I fear my venerable and respected friend the worthy Court Godmother
must have met with some mishap," he sniggered. "For see, Princess, her
dove-chariot has just descended, _without_ its Gracious occupant, on the
roof of the bastion! Hee-hee! I trust--I sincerely trust that Tützi may
not so far forget himself as to snap up any of those dear little doves!"
And, so saying, he hurried to the Courtyard. Edna was naturally
concerned at any possible accident to the Court Godmother or her doves,
but her letter had to be written, and it was not at all an easy letter
to write. She got as far as: "Dear Father and Mother,--You will be
relieved to hear that I am, so far, unhurt. But"--and there she stuck.
It was really _very_ difficult to find any plausible wording for the
Ogre's preposterous terms.
Xuriel had rejoined his patron, and both were watching Tützi with
interest. He had already become aware of the doves and reared his head
above the level of the bastion roof, where they were strutting about
unsuspicious of danger. His hideous lidless eyes regarded them intently,
with a view to selecting the plumpest bird.
"Those pigeons will be quite a treat for poor Tützi," remarked Count
Rubenfresser. "But what is that thing flashing there on the roof? There
it is again! Can't you see it?"
Xuriel looked, and saw a thin scintillating ray of light which shifted
capriciously from place to place. "It is the blade of a sword!" he said.
"More--it is the blade of the enchanted sword I sold to Prince
Clarence."
"Fool!" said the Count, "how can any sword be there with no hand to
wield it?"
"The Crown Prince is wielding it," replied Xuriel. "He is rendered
invisible by the magic cap I made for the Court Chamberlain!"
"You had no business to make such things," returned the Count, "they
were very properly forbidden. But Tützi will very soon----"
Before he could say more there was another flash--a sweeping circle of
light--and Tützi's head flew from his neck, which sent up a column of
blood.
"The wretch!" shrieked the Count, "the cruel, cold-blooded wretch, he's
killed my Tützi!"
"It will be _our_ turn next!" cried the little Astrologer Royal, too
terrified to stir.
"Help!" the Count bawled, "we are attacked! Where _are_ you all?" A few
retainers had run out to various doorways at his summons, but when they
saw the dragon's great body rolling convulsively round the Courtyard,
its hooked wings thrashing up the cobblestones, while its head bounded
independently about, barking and snapping like a mad dog, they very
prudently withdrew.
Xuriel had recovered strength to run, but he had not gone far before the
head, probably quite automatically, seized his right calf and brought
him down. There was another sharp glint of light--and his body was
headless, like the dragon's. What with the endeavour to avoid Tützi's
head, and Tützi's body, and the terrible sword flashes, all at once, the
Count was kept pretty busy for the next minute or so. He rushed, leaping
and yelling, roaring and dodging, from side to side and corner to
corner, and then made a frantic bolt for the outer staircase, but he had
only got half-way up when his head fell with a splash into a water-butt
below, while his body slid down to the bottom of the steps, where it lay
in a limp crumpled heap.
The noise of all these proceedings was not exactly conducive to literary
composition, and Princess Edna had already been obliged to abandon her
letter. In fact she had begun to realise that it would no longer be
necessary to finish it. Her brother, she thought, had come to her
deliverance with a promptness and energy which she would really have
hardly expected of him. She put on her _pince-nez_ again, and went out
to the head of the staircase. "Clarence!" she called, "where _are_ you?"
She was immensely surprised to encounter a plain young man in homely
costume whom she had certainly never seen before. Mirliflor, who had
just removed his cap and was springing up the steps in search of Daphne,
was at least equally surprised at finding Edna.
"_You_ here, Princess!" he cried breathlessly, "Tell me! Is--is Daphne
safe?"
"If you refer to Miss Heritage," replied Edna, "I have not seen her for
weeks, but I have no reason for believing that she is _not_ safe--in
England."
"Then," he said blankly, "the dragon carried off _you_--not _her_?"
"I should have thought that fairly obvious," said Edna frigidly. "You
have evidently rescued me under a misapprehension, though, of course, I
am just as much indebted to you. And I shall be glad to know who you
are. In answering, kindly address me as 'Your Royal Highness.' It is
more correct."
This was highly embarrassing, he thought, though he felt thankful that
his Godmother had not had time to make him recognisable. "My name, your
Royal Highness," he replied, "is Giroflé. I have the honour to be one of
his Majesty's under-gardeners."
"Oh," said Edna, "one of _them_? Really. Well, you have behaved most
creditably--very creditably indeed. I really don't know _what_ mightn't
have happened if you hadn't arrived just then. I have never been in such
a trying situation before. And, even as it is," she added, "there
doesn't seem to be any means of getting _out_ of this odious place."
By this time Tützi's death-throes were over; his body lay extended half
across the Courtyard, while the head, after having bitten one or two of
the carriage horses rather severely, had also ceased from troubling.
"Perhaps," said Mirliflor, "your Royal Highness will condescend to make
use of the dove-car which brought me here? It will carry you back in
safety to the Palace."
"It looks rather tit-uppy," said Edna, as the doves flew down with it at
his call. "And it only holds one. How are you going to get away
yourself?"
"I shall order some of those varlets to open the gate," he said, "and
they will be wise to obey."
"Clarence's sword _is_ a great help!" said Edna. "Then--_you_ will be
all right. And you may be sure that his Majesty will pay you a suitable
reward."
"The satisfaction of having been of any service to your Royal Highness,"
he said, "is reward enough in itself."
"Oh, but that's such a _pose_!" said Edna. "Of _course_ you expect to be
paid for it!... And you will be. Must I tell these birds where to take
me?... I _see_. Then--Home, please!"
And the doves, glad to escape from such uncongenial surroundings,
whirred upwards with the car and, after a few tentative circles, took it
clear over the battlements.
As for the retainers, they waited for no order to unbar the gate for
Mirliflor, being all eagerness to facilitate his departure. He strode
unconcernedly out, and, finding a party of the Royal guard outside, he
informed them that they would find one or two severed heads within if
they cared to collect them, and then, borrowing a charger, he galloped
off to Eswareinmal, impatient to know what had befallen Daphne.
On the Palace terrace there had been a period of painful surprise. The
Crown Prince was the first of the rescue party to return. He would have
much preferred to do so by a back way, but, perceiving that he had been
observed, took the manlier course. "Clarence!" shrieked the Queen as he
limped up with his breastplate and hose covered with mire, a bent sword
and badly dinted helmet, "is she saved?"
"Couldn't tell you, Mater," he replied heavily. "I've done all I could,
and so--and so I came back."
"He's wounded!" cried Ruby tearfully. "Oh, Clarence, was it that horrid
Tützi?" for she was effectually disillusioned at last.
"No, Kiddie, no," he said, "_I'm_ all right. Took a bit of a toss,
that's all."
"My poor boy," said his mother, "was it at the Castle? Did the thing
attack you?"
"I never _got_ to the Castle," he replied, "only about half-way. It was
like this. That bally pendant you made me wear, Mater, got unfastened
somehow, slipped down inside my breastplate and was hurting like the
very deuce. So I got off and unbuckled a bit and pitched it away. When I
got on again the horse was all over the shop with me in a jiffy.
Couldn't hold him for toffee! And, before I knew it, I was over the
brute's head. I tried to mount again, but he wouldn't let me. I tried
some other gees, and none of _them_ would. Somehow I seemed to have lost
the knack all at once. So, after I'd come off once or twice more and was
getting a trifle lame, I thought the best thing I could do was to leg it
home."
"Hem!" said his Father. "Rather unfortunate thing to happen just _now_,
my boy!"
"Well, Guv'nor," he replied, "I should never have got there in time,
walking."
"You were quite right to come back, Clarence," said his Mother,
"And--oh, look, look!" she cried suddenly, "our darling is safe after
all! She's coming back in the dove-car!"
The car landed shortly after on the terrace, and Edna was frantically
embraced and plied with questions. "I am _quite_ all right, thank you,"
she said as soon as she had an opportunity of speaking. "Of course it
was a most disagreeable thing to happen to one, and I don't feel equal
to talking about it just yet--but I am very little the worse for it
now."
"But how did you get that awful man to let you go?" inquired the Queen.
"He couldn't very well help himself--his head had been cut off. So had
the dragon's, and that abominable little wretch Xuriel's too."
By this time not only the Marshal but the Court Godmother and the
Chamberlain had joined the party.
"But who was brave enough to do all this?" asked the Queen. "Though I
think I can _guess_!"
"I fancy he said he was one of the under-gardeners here. Of course he
couldn't have done it without Clarence's sword, but still----"
"I never lent him it," said Clarence. "If _I'd_ had it--however, perhaps
it's as well he _did_ borrow it. Jolly plucky of the beggar, I call it!"
"He behaved extremely well," Edna admitted. "You will have to reward him
or something, Father."
"His Majesty," said the Marshal, with a certain gusto, "has already
offered your Royal Highness's hand in marriage to whomsoever should be
so fortunate as to effect your deliverance."
"Without consulting Me!" cried Edna. "_Really_, Father, these things
aren't done nowadays! It's too absurd!"
"My love," said the Queen with a glance of secret intelligence at the
embarrassed Baron, who looked another way, "the circumstances were
exceptional. And a King can't go back on his _word_! Besides, this
ex-gardener may be not such a common person as he _seems_--may he not,
Baron?"
"But, dash it, Mater!" said Clarence, while the Baron could only blink,
"an under-gardener--what!"
"I'm bound to say--" began the King, when the Queen interrupted:
"You are bound to say that you'll keep your promise, Sidney, and that is
enough till the dear fellow comes to claim his reward."
It was the Marshal whose superfluous zeal led him to order Giroflé to be
stopped and brought into the Royal presence as soon as he arrived at the
Palace.
The Royal Family, with the Court Godmother, the Baron, and other members
of the Household, had assembled in the Throne Room when the Marshal
entered, leading the reluctant Giroflé, acutely conscious of looking his
very worst. After him came some men-at-arms, who carried the dragon's
still terrific head, with those of the Count and Xuriel, as trophies of
the hero's exploit.
They caused a general but by no means unpleasant shudder to run through
the beholders.
"Your Majesties," said the ex-Regent, "I have the honour to present the
gallant youth who has nobly earned even such a prize as the hand of her
Royal Highness."
"But--but," stammered Queen Selina, "this isn't--there's not the least
_resemblance_! Baron, Baron, what did you mean by telling me that the
Prince----?"
"I--I must have been misinformed, your Majesty," said the Court
Chamberlain, having no better explanation to offer.
"You should be more careful about what you tell _Us_, Baron," said the
Queen. "And, really, there was no need to bring those dreadful heads
into our Throne Room, making all that horrible mess! It's a piece of bad
taste which, perhaps--in an under gardener--please have them removed
directly. Well, young man," she continued to the indignant Mirliflor,
who, it need not be said, had nothing to do with the gruesome
introduction of the heads, "I'm sure we are all very much obliged to
you--very much obliged indeed. If you hadn't come forward as you did,
it's dreadful to think what might have happened. And, though it seems
you _did_ take the liberty of borrowing the Crown Prince's sword without
permission, we are the last to blame you for that. We think you are
entitled to be very handsomely rewarded. But if you're expecting our
daughter, the Princess Edna's hand, I think your own good sense----"
"Yes, yes," said the King; "mustn't open your mouth _too_ wide, you
know. There's a limit to all things! And a round sum of money with which
you could start in business and marry some nice little woman in your own
class of life would be far more _useful_ to you."
"I ask for no reward," said Giroflé. "And the hand of a Princess is an
honour to which I do not aspire, since I am already affianced!"
"That," replied the Queen, "is very satisfactory. We shall certainly
send the young person a wedding-present. Who _is_ she? One of the Royal
kitchen-maids, I presume?"
"She was in your Majesty's service as a lady-in-waiting," he said, "and
her name is Daphne."
"Oh," said Queen Selina. "Really? Miss Heritage? Well, you are to be
congratulated, I'm sure."
"But, Mater," said Clarence, "it can't be _her_! I thought you'd had her
sent home?"
"I had made arrangements for her return, Clarence, but it seems to have
been postponed for some reason--luckily, as things have turned out. She
has been given rooms in a pavilion behind the Palace Gardens, where no
doubt she managed to become acquainted with this young man."
"And he may take it," said the Fairy, "that the Lady Daphne is at
liberty to depart with him at once?"
"Certainly," said the Queen. "It is hardly, perhaps--but Miss Heritage
is no doubt right in accepting the first offer she receives."
"Quite," said Princess Edna, "though it seems odd--even for a
Governess--to think of marrying a gardener! But I'm sure I wish her
_every_ happiness."
There is no doubt that the Court Godmother should have been content with
this, but her anger and disgust were too much for her discretion. She
could not resist the temptation to humiliate and confound these upstarts
by a sensational stroke, whatever it cost her.
"Perhaps," she said, "the Lady Daphne has made a wiser choice than any
of you may imagine." With this, after muttering an incantation, she
touched Giroflé with her crutch-handled staff, and in his stead Prince
Mirliflor stood revealed in rich and splendid attire before them all.
The Queen was electrified for a moment, as were Edna and most present.
But as soon as the shock had passed she cried: "This _is_ a surprise!
But, my _dear_ Prince Mirliflor, why--_why_ didn't you tell us who you
were before? You see, we couldn't possibly----!"
"It was really too naughty of you to play us such a trick, Prince!" said
Edna, "when, as you might have known----!"
"Never mind!" purred the Queen, "we'll forgive him--won't we, Edna?"
"Of course you only said that about Miss Heritage to tease us?" said
Edna, who really believed it was so.
"I said but the truth, Princess," he replied. "She has promised to be my
wife."
"And the match," put in the triumphant Fairy, addressing Queen Selina,
"already has your sanction!"
"Oh," said the Queen, "but that was before--I think," she went on with a
forced smile of much sweetness--"I think you and I, my dear Court
Godmother, must have a little talk over this in private before I can
make up my mind _what_ I ought to do. Perhaps you will be kind enough to
follow me to my Cabinet? Excuse my deserting you for a little while, my
dear Mirliflor. I shall leave you to Edna, who, I know, is dying to
express all the gratitude and admiration she feels."
And she swept with great stateliness out of the Throne Room towards her
Cabinet, the Court Godmother following with a presentiment that her pet
scheme was about to encounter some opposition, and no very definite idea
how to meet it.
But that it must and should be overcome somehow she was thoroughly
determined.
It should be mentioned here that, shortly after his transformation,
Mirliflor found inside his rich doublet something which proved to be the
Chamberlain's cap. He was about to return it, but the Baron showed so
little desire to receive his property in public that the Prince decided
to keep it until a better opportunity presented itself. And then he
forgot all about it, for which, as things turned out, both had reason to
be thankful afterwards.