unnatural. Amabilia was little more than a year older than Zac, and
Concaterina about his age. His good looks, his pleasant manner, the
unfailing sweetness of his temper, and the general intelligence which
he evinced, were all calculated to make an impression upon the tender
hearts of the two princesses. Surrounded by flatterers and sycophants,
the simple character and honest bearing of the youth had the additional
charm of novelty, and this was increased by the natural manner in
which, considering these as his future sisters, he accepted his
position and treated them frankly as such. Accordingly they both fell
deeply in love with him. It was very sad, and I am sorry to be obliged
to tell it, but it is no use concealing the truth, and there was and is
no mistake about the matter. The two sisters were not long in
discovering each other's secret, and as soon as they had made the
mutual discovery, a coldness sprang up between them which was most
distressing. I am bound to say that no thought of or for Belinda ever
crossed the mind of either of them. It was not that they disliked their
younger sister, or that they were habitually unkind to her, but they
had got into the way of considering her as a kind of inferior being,
whose thoughts, hopes, and wishes must never for a moment interfere
with their own, and who could on any occasion, and in any matter, be
pushed aside as best suited their convenience, so that it scarcely at
all, if ever, occurred to either of them that it was either wrong,
dishonourable, or unkind to rob Belinda of her promised husband, and if
it _had_ occurred to them, I am afraid that they had both been too
much accustomed to have their own way to have hesitated even under the
influence of such a thought. Nurtured as they had been in their
father's court, surrounded by people who had taught them to believe in
the divine right of kings to reign over their people, and the enormous
privilege which it was to be of royal blood, and the incomparable
superiority of beings such as they were over the common herd of
mortals, one would have thought it probable that their pride would have
prevented them from yielding to the soft influence of love in such a
case as that of the boy of humble birth with whom they had thus
accidentally been associated. But poets and writers of olden time have
always told us that Love is invincible, and I can only suppose that he
chose to give another instance of his prowess by conquering the hearts
of the two princesses, and forcing them to bow before his resistless
sway. At all events, to cut the matter short, they both fell in love
with Zac Dickson, so that his very name (though to me there seems
nothing at all savouring of melody about it) was music to their ears,
their eyes delighted to behold him, and their blushes would soon have
told the tale, if indeed their tender looks and affectionate manner had
not been such as to reveal to the youth the ill-concealed secret of
their young hearts.
Extraordinary though it be to relate, and difficult to believe, Zac was
considerably more annoyed than pleased by the discovery. Most boys of
fifteen would have been far from insensible to the attentions of
beautiful damsels even of their own rank and station, and few there are
who would not have been flattered--and perchance fluttered too--by the
palpable affection entertained towards them by lovely princesses.
Nevertheless, this was not at all the case with Zac. By some curious
freak of Nature, he had been constituted with an acute sense and
appreciation of the difference between right and wrong, and a steady
desire and determination to avoid the latter whenever he possibly
could. He remembered full well the manner in which he had obtained
access to the palace, and the terms upon which his admission had been
arranged, and the means provided for his education. Strange to say,
moreover, he had conceived a real regard and affection for Belinda. He
remembered her first reception of him as her future husband; he did not
forget the uniformly meek and modest nature which she displayed in her
weekly interviews with him; nor was he oblivious of the kindly interest
she had ever taken in his mental progress and development of those
qualities which go to make a man's life both useful and advantageous to
himself and others. He had perceived, too, in the youngest princess,
that sweetness of disposition for which she had ever been remarkable,
and had learned gradually to understand, and, as he understood, to love
her better.
If, at his first entrance upon the scene of our history as the winner
of the pig-race, he had been offered the choice of any one of the three
princesses, it is highly probable that he would never have looked upon
Belinda a second time. The beauty of the elder sisters was undeniably
great; their manners pleasant, though occasionally haughty; and they
were girls who would at once have captivated the susceptible heart of
any young man suddenly placed in Zac's position. But a year's residence
in the palace, and that under his peculiar circumstances and
engagements, had made all the difference. Bound in honour to Belinda,
he would as soon have thought of stealing the king's crown as of making
love to either of her sisters, nor could he believe for a long time
that they had any such intentions towards himself. This, however, only
served to make matters worse, because he took no pains to keep out of
their way, and was rather glad when any opportunity for meeting either
of them chanced to occur. Nay, when Amabilia pressed his hand tenderly,
he saw in it nothing more than the regard which Belinda's sister had a
right to entertain towards him, and when Concaterina, as they were
bending together over a photograph, put her arms softly round his neck,
and when their faces were almost touching, pressed her lips softly upon
his cheek, he even then deemed it but a proof of sisterly affection,
and at once returned the compliment, without a suspicion that anything
more was meant. His eyes, however, were opened at last, when the
attentions, looks, and words of the two elder princesses became
unmistakable, and their design of winning him from Belinda but too
apparent.
The boy was grieved beyond measure, for not only was he sharp enough to
know that his own position at court might be seriously imperilled by
what was before him, but he also felt that, through him, Belinda
herself might be made to suffer. Yet what was to be done? Deceit was
repugnant to his honest nature, and had it been otherwise, it could
scarcely have been long maintained, since not only one, but both
sisters were aiming at the same thing, and to deceive the two would
have been beyond human skill and subtlety. If he appeared to favour
either one, the other would probably be bitterly offended; if he seemed
to care for both, but to hesitate between the two, their mutual
jealousy would be stimulated, and, besides, if Belinda should hear of
it, as would be but too likely, her tender heart would be filled with
sorrow. On the other hand, if he spoke his mind out to the two
princesses, openly and boldly, they had only to agree together to
denounce him to the king, and his position would be most precarious,
whilst Belinda would be quite unable to assist him.
The matter caused the poor boy much anxious thought. At first, when he
became quite certain that he was not mistaken, he tried, by every means
in his power, to avoid Amabilia and Concaterina, and was never alone
with either of them if he could possibly help it. But very often he
couldn't help it, do what he would. He made his studies a constant
excuse for absence from luncheon, to which meal he had latterly been
invited, and at which the two elder princesses were always present,
although Belinda had her solitary meal in the school-room.
Sometimes the king was there, and then Zac dared not be away, since
Fridolin liked him to be present, and sent for him if he was not. But
his time of trial was "Five o'clock Tea."
The two sisters had a joint sitting-room, a very comfortable place,
with inviting arm-chairs, delightful sofas, all the new novels, and
every knick-knack you can imagine, arranged as only a lady's taste
_can_ arrange things, but so managed as to make the room wonderfully
attractive to the male who has the good fortune to be admitted to a
sight of its treasures. Their tea was always brought in on a silver
tray soon after five, and to this most enjoyable meal they frequently
invited such of the courtiers as they specially favoured. Zac had
constant invitations of a general character, but whenever one of the
sisters chanced to be absent from any cause whatever, the other was
sure to send specially to request his attendance. This was his time of
trial. The "request" of a princess in that royalty-loving country was
equivalent to a command, and it was entirely contrary to etiquette for
any one to refuse compliance, save on the score of ill-health, domestic
affliction, or some other equally valid excuse. Therefore it was very
difficult for Zac to refuse, though he knew only too well what awaited
him. Amabilia or Concaterina, whichever it happened to be--no matter
which--was certain to be alone, and always received him with such
overpowering affection as quite bewildered him. His only safety lay in
the fact that the two girls had become so jealous of each other, that
one never left the other alone at five o'clock tea if she could
possibly help it. Still, sometimes such an occurrence was unavoidable,
and if Amabilia was ever kept up-stairs by a bad cold, or Concaterina
had been detained elsewhere by some accidental circumstance, as sure as
fate, one of these special invitations came to Zac, and the poor boy
had to go and face the lovely princess as best he could.
So things went on for several months, well into the second year of the
youth's residence in the palace, until at last matters seemed coming to
a crisis. For the second time, Concaterina had indulged him with a
kiss, which he could hardly with politeness refrain from returning, and
the lovely Amabilia actually began the same game.
She secured him for a five o'clock tea, and whilst sitting by his side
on the sofa, and talking in her usually affectionate manner, she
suddenly laid her fair head upon his shoulder for an instant, and the
next moment as suddenly raising it, exclaimed in an energetic and
emphatic tone: "_Dear_ Zac!" and imprinted at the same instant a warm
and loving kiss upon his young lips.
Poor Zac was terribly perplexed, but more in thought than in action,
for of course he could do no less than promptly return the compliment
just paid him by the princess. But when she took his hand in hers,
pressed it warmly, and regarded him with loving eyes, with her face
still closer to his than any face but Belinda's should have been, he
felt that this was really carrying things too far, and that he must
somehow or other put an end to it. How he would have done so it is
impossible to say, inasmuch as the princess, evidently of a different
opinion, appeared desirous of prolonging the situation, and his
difficulty in preventing her from doing so would probably have been
considerable.
Fortunately--or unfortunately, as the taste of my readers may lead them
to determine--the door suddenly flew open, and the princess had barely
time to spring to the other end of the sofa when the portly figure of
Lord Pompous entered the apartment. As Lord Chamberlain, Old Pompous
had the general right of entry everywhere, although he rarely ventured
to approach the sitting-room of the princesses without special
invitation, and probably would not have done so upon the present
occasion had he not been sent directly by the king. I do not think that
Amabilia ever quite forgave the old man for his unwelcome intrusion;
but he really was not to blame in the matter. King Fridolin had got
into a difficulty about some curtains which he had recently ordered for
his study, and which, when they came home, he fancied were of colours
which did not match; those destined for one window being of a different
hue to those which belonged to another. Having referred the matter to
Lord Pompous, that worthy ventured to be of an opinion contrary to that
of his sovereign, and held that the curtains matched perfectly. Upon
this Fridolin first threw a footstool at the head of his lord
chamberlain--on dodging which he tumbled over the waste-paper basket
into the coal-scuttle, and spoiled a new white waistcoat--and then
directed him, since he was such a blind old fool as to be unable to
tell one colour from another, to go immediately to Amabilia's room and
ask her to come there and decide the knotty point. Accordingly, the
submissive Pompous hurried off to obey the orders of the king, and
arrived at the particularly opportune or inopportune moment which I
have described.
As far as Zac was concerned, the intrusion appeared to him to be little
less than providential. The princess could do nothing else than obey,
and as it would not have been etiquette for her either to have invited
him to accompany her, or told him to await her return, she had no
alternative but to dismiss him from the apartment. This she did with a
loving look, which certainly could not be misunderstood by its object,
and could hardly have escaped the observation of any bystander less
blind and stupid than Lord Pompous.
The princess then sought the presence of her father, and Zac, having
deeply cogitated upon the whole matter, after his return to his own
room, made up his mind that, unless he was to run away--a proceeding
which would be difficult, uncomfortable, ruinous to his future
interests, and very disagreeable to others beside himself--the only
alternative he had was to open his whole heart to Belinda upon the very
first opportunity.
Having quite resolved upon this he felt somewhat more happy, for that
which had really troubled him most was the apprehension that the young
princess might discover something of the truth, and not knowing from
himself how matters really stood, might imbibe some false impression
concerning the matter, and blame him for having employed unnecessary
and unjustifiable concealment in a business so intimately concerning
her interests and future happiness. He had not long to wait for the
opportunity he desired. At their very next interview he was able to
open his heart to Belinda upon the subject, and to tell her all the
awkwardness of his position as regarded the king, herself, and her two
sisters.
At first the poor child wept bitterly, and was quite unable either to
control or to conceal her feelings. She had never expected, for she had
never received, great kindness from her elder sisters, but she had
thought herself quite safe from molestation with regard to her future
husband. Amabilia and Concaterina had so scoffed at the idea of the
pig-race when the project was first started, they had laughed so
heartily at the ridiculous notion of the hand of a king's daughter
being given as the reward of a successful jockey, and they had tossed
their heads so high at the idea of a common farmer's son being received
and accepted as the future husband of _their_ sister, that it had never
entered the poor child's head that there was the slightest chance of
either of them ever desiring to obtain his affection. Yet such was the
case. She was attacked upon the very side upon which she had felt
herself most secure, and her surprise was only equalled by her
distress. One consolation, however, she certainly had, than which none
could well be greater. The fidelity of Zac was a comfort which was
beyond all price, as it was also beyond all praise. When she was fully
assured of this--and indeed she was too young and too honest to have
ever doubted it--she felt almost glad that the occasion to prove it had
arisen. In warm but simple language she expressed at once her gratitude
and her affection for the youth, who, on his part, declared his firm
adherence to the troth he had plighted, and in homely words vowed that
he would never be false to his Belinda.
But this mutual interchange of confidence and regard rendered the
present position of affairs by no means less dangerous and
uncomfortable. Zac offered to go to the king if Belinda desired it, but
to this there was a double objection. In the first place, Fridolin
would probably be slow to believe anything to the disadvantage of his
favourite daughters, and an appeal to him, certain to lead to an entire
denial on the part of the princesses, would not improbably recoil upon
the heads of both Belinda and her promised husband. Then, in the second
place, Zac had a strong and conscientious objection to betraying a
lady's secret, and had only done so in the present case because Belinda
was his affianced wife, and he felt himself bound in honour to tell her
how matters stood between her sisters and himself.
They decided, therefore, that they certainly would not say anything to
the king upon the subject. There was no one else to whom they could
appeal, for Amabilia and Concaterina were omnipotent in the palace, and
it would have been hopeless to speak to old Pompous or any of the
courtiers. All that Belinda could think of was to tell her old
foster-mother, who was allowed to see her twice a month, and who was so
utterly devoted to her, that if the worst came to the worst, and the
poor child had to leave the palace, she knew she could find a refuge in
that humble cottage as long as the old woman was allowed to live there.
So, after much difficulty, she obtained Zac's permission to confide to
her the whole matter, and to ask her counsel regarding it.
The youth left his betrothed with a heavy heart, but rejoiced withal at
the thought that, at all events, she knew the truth, and would place in
him the trust which he so well deserved.
The cottage of Belinda's foster-mother was not far from the palace, and
close to a forest of considerable size, between which and the river
which flowed through the fertile plain upon one side of it, were the
king's pastures upon which grazed his numerous flocks and herds. As has
been already stated, the good old foster-mother was the wife of one of
the shepherds whose duty it was to tend the king's flocks. He was now
somewhat advanced in years, and so was his wife; but they were a hale
and hearty couple, and still performed their duties with diligence and
fidelity. According to her resolution, Belinda confided to her
foster-mother at the very next interview the whole circumstances of her
painful position. The worthy woman was much disturbed at hearing this
news. No one was better informed than she was of the state of affairs
at the palace. She knew that the word of either Amabilia or Concaterina
was law, whilst her nursling had no influence whatever. If, then, the
two sisters could agree between themselves as to which of them should
appropriate Zac, there seemed but small hope that Belinda would be
permitted to retain her lover. True, he might have a word to say upon
the subject himself, and would possibly--nay, probably, according to
Belinda--be firm and true, but how far that would avail against the
will of those with whom he would have to deal, was a very doubtful
matter. So when she had heard her child's story, the old woman
comforted and petted her at first by condoling with her on the badness
of the prospect before her, and the impossibility of its ever being any
better. Having thus made both her nursling and herself as miserable as
she could, and having cried together a good deal more than the urgency
of the case required, they began to think whether anything else could
be done, and for some time no thought entered either head of which any
use could be made. This interview took place in the palace, and the
good old woman said that she never _could_ think in such a grand place
as that, but that if Belinda could manage to come and see her one of
those days at her own cottage, they would be able to talk the matter
over quietly together, and perhaps something might turn up. To this
Belinda consented, and the old woman took her departure.
For the next few days things went on much the same, the two elder
princesses doing all in their power to attract the affection of Zac,
and the honest lad striving to avoid them as much as he possibly could
do without actual incivility. One day, however, things really came to a
crisis. Zac had finished his work earlier than usual, and went into the
palace garden to enjoy the fresh air. He took a book with him, and
finding a pleasant seat in a little summer-house, which had been built
near a natural waterfall which formed one of the beauties of the place,
he sat himself thereupon, and began to read.
It was a lovely spot, and the moment was one which occasionally comes
to everybody in the warm summer-time, when the sound of falling water,
the rays of the sun just piercing through a thick leafy screen, the low
singing of the birds and the humming of the insects, all induce a kind
of dreamy happiness which gradually steals over the spirit, and not
seldom ends in the forgetfulness of sleep. So it was with Zac. He read
a page or two with avidity--for his book was interesting--then another
page or two rather less eagerly, then more slowly and lazily still;
then he ceased to turn over the pages at all, and finally the book
slipped from his hands to his knees, and from his knees to the ground,
his eyes closed, and he fell into a sweet, dreamless sleep.
Now, as luck would have it, the lovely Concaterina had observed the
youth saunter into the garden, as she was watering the mignonette
which grew in a box placed upon her window-sill. The opportunity for a
_tête-à-tête_ seemed too good to be lost, and she therefore shortly
afterwards descended in pursuit of him, having previously made sure
that her beloved elder sister was practising music in their joint
sitting-room. The princess did not find the boy directly, as she
fancied he had gone further into the shrubberies than was really the
case, so that by the time she came upon him in the summer-house he was
stretched at full length upon the seat and sleeping as I have
described.
She gazed upon him for some few seconds in a transport of maidenly
affection--so young and so handsome did he seem in her eyes, with his
head leaning upon one of his arms which he had carelessly thrown behind
it as he sank to sleep. Should she awaken him? and how? She did not
take long to decide. In that country there was a proverbial saying--and
I believe it is not confined to that country--that if a gentleman finds
a lady asleep he has a right to take a kiss by way of legitimate booty.
Concaterina had no idea that such a privilege could be properly or
fairly confined to one sex, and she therefore leaned gently over the
slumbering Zac, and without more ado kissed him tenderly on the cheek.
The boy started from his sleep, and blushed deeply at having been thus
awakened and saluted. He stammered forth some apologies for having been
found as he was, but these were soon stopped by Concaterina, who
addressed him in the most affectionate terms, and, sitting down by his
side, asked him whether he quite hated her.
To this the youth could make but one reply, namely, that it was not for
him to hate his king's daughter, and that even were she not so, she and
her sister had been too kind to him to make it possible for him to
entertain any such feeling towards either of them.
At the mention of her sister the fair one pouted prettily, and
continued to talk to him in terms of endearment.
"Dearest Zac," she said, "if you do not hate me cannot you love me a
little? I am so fond of _you_--so _very_ fond."
Zac did not know how to answer.
"I _do_ love you," at length he said, "as the Princess Belinda's
sister, and therefore one who will some day be _my_ sister too!"
"Ah!" sighed Concaterina, "but I want more than that, you dear boy.
Belinda, indeed! you are much too good for _her_, poor ill-favoured,
child! How happy we could be together, Zac. You don't think me ugly, do
you?"
Zac certainly did _not_, and therefore could not say so, but when the
princess went on in the same way, and tried to persuade him to let her
usurp the place in his affections which belonged to Belinda, he could
only reply that he knew she could not _really_ mean it, and begged her
not to play tricks upon him in that manner.
"Ah, Zac," she returned, "they are no tricks; I never before saw anyone
whom I could really love, and I do love you, Zac, so _very_ much!" and
as she spoke she passed her arm again round the perplexed boy's neck in
a loving manner.
What step she would next have taken I am unable to say, for at that
moment who should enter the summer-house but the Princess Amabilia.
"Pretty conduct this, indeed!" she cried, when she saw the position of
affairs. "Concaterina! I wonder you are not ashamed of yourself,
teasing that poor boy with your affection when you know he wants none
of it!"
The younger sister had by this time withdrawn the offending arm and
turned sharply upon the intruder.
"How tiresome you are, Amabilia," she said pettishly; "always
interfering. Zac and I understand each other quite well, and don't want
you here at all. Do go away!"
"Hoity-toity!" rejoined the other. "_I_ go away, forsooth, that would
be very reasonable, when we both know that dear Zac loves me fifty
times better than he does you. Impudence!"
At this Concaterina fired up.
"He does no such thing!" she cried angrily; "he and I are now nearly of
an age, and if you were a real good sister you would be glad to see how
fond he is of me, instead of trying to take him away, you spiteful
thing."
Amabilia replied with equal warmth, and poor Zac's position became one
of extreme discomfort, both princesses claiming him as their own, when
he in reality neither belonged nor wished to belong to either.
Presently, however, they brought their animated discussion to a close
by appealing to Zac himself. Amabilia ingenuously declared that as she
was eldest she ought to have the first choice, and that since matters
had come to this pass, she would not be ashamed of telling Zac to his
face that she loved him dearly, and was prepared to accept him for her
husband. To this she added that in most courts such a hint as she had
given would be considered equivalent to a command, and that she was
thankful to say and feel that, as in their case there was love on both
sides, a command would be quite superfluous.
Concaterina then put in her claim. She said that in matters of love it
was not a question of being eldest or youngest, the heart must follow
its own promptings. She loved Zac--oh, so dearly! and she felt that he
returned her love, only diffidence forbade him to confess it. But if he
would be hers, she was certain her sister would soon find another mate,
and that the king, her father, would make no objection. Thus accosted
by two young and beautiful princesses, poor Zac would have had a most
difficult task to decide between them, had it not been that the path of
duty lay straight before him, and he had all along resolved to follow
it.