to one and the other, "I thought you were but playing with me, and I
would fain hope so still. If not--what reply can I make to you? I love
you both--each has been so kind to me since I first entered the palace,
that I should be worse than a brute if I did not love you both. But I
came here as the promised husband of your sister Belinda. My troth is
plighted to her. She believes in and trusts me. How can I break my word
and her heart? Dear princesses, you are so beautiful that you can
command love whenever and wherever you wish it. It is not so with poor
Belinda. She has but me, and I have vowed to be faithful to her!"
Whilst Zac was speaking thus, his eyes fired with animation, and his
face beaming with excitement, the princesses thought they had never
seen him look so handsome. But when his words showed them that their
efforts to wean his heart from their younger sister had been
unsuccessful, rage gradually took possession of their souls.
"You despise our love!" they both cried out at once. "You, a mere
peasant boy, who was only taken into the palace out of charity, you
_dare_ to say that you despise our beauty and ourselves, and take
up with that little lump of deformity, Belinda! How can you be such a
fool?"
Poor Zac protested that he was far from despising either of them, and
admired their beauty greatly, as indeed anyone with eyes must do. This,
however, was far from satisfying the enraged damsels. They insisted
upon it that the youth had encouraged them both, and the only dispute
between them now was as to which of them had been worse treated by him.
They told him, moreover, that his pretended fidelity to Belinda should
not bring happiness either to him or her. They would plague her life
out, for the matter of that. Ugly little toad! why should she have a
husband at all? And as for him--he should be punished handsomely for
this, and that, too, perhaps, sooner than he thought.
They then left the summer-house, and, I am sorry to say, allowed their
anger to carry them far beyond what could in any way be justified. They
agreed to go to their father that very afternoon, and tell him that Zac
had been very impertinent to both of them, and that Amabilia had
surprized him trying to kiss Concaterina against her will in the
summer-house. This they accordingly did, and the effects were much what
they had expected.
The king flew into a violent passion, threw both his boots with an
unerring aim at the head of Lord Pompous, and vowed that the world must
certainly be coming to an end. When the courtiers had all agreed to
this as a novel but most reasonable remark, he called them a parcel of
fools for thinking such a thing at all probable, and ordered Zac to be
immediately arrested. When told of what he was accused, the poor boy
was almost beside himself with grief. He was sorry enough for the
trouble he was in, and for that which might fall upon Belinda in
consequence; but he was still more sorry for the cruel conduct of the
two princesses, whom he had really liked, and who had behaved so
heartlessly to him for only doing his duty. Even now, however, he
behaved like a true gentleman.
When Fridolin asked him what he had to allege in his defence, he bowed
low before the king, and said "Nothing." When asked if he then
confessed himself guilty, he replied:
"May it please your majesty, I should feel guilty if I allowed myself
to deny any statement made by the noble princesses, your majesty's
royal daughters."
This speech would have touched many hearts, but Fridolin was in too
great a passion at that moment to be touched by anything, and he gave
orders that Zac should immediately be thrown into a deep dungeon, fed
upon bread and water, and confined there until it should be settled
whether he should be beheaded or banished, which were the only two
punishments which occurred to the king just then. Accordingly, the poor
boy was roughly dragged away from the royal presence, taken down a
great many stone steps, until he arrived at the dungeon door, and then
thrust through it, and left to think over all that had happened.
The Princess Belinda, meanwhile, was quite ignorant of the whole affair
until the next morning, when her two sisters visited her in her
apartment. They came, as may be supposed, in no very friendly state of
mind, and told their story in a manner which would have greatly
distressed Belinda, if she had not had the most perfect reliance upon
Zac. They pretended to condole with her on the circumstance of his
having repeatedly made love to both of them, playing one off against
the other, and striving to induce them to persuade the king to let him
marry one of them instead of her. They said that they had refrained
from telling her this before, for fear of wounding her feelings, but
that now they were obliged to do so. Then they told their concocted
story about the summer-house, and related all that had subsequently
occurred. Poor Belinda shed bitter tears, but showed her disbelief in
their story so plainly, that they presently changed their tone, asked
who and what _she_ was, forsooth, that a husband should be provided for
her--telling her that she should never have him after all, that they
would take care he was kept in the dungeon until he came to his senses,
and making all kinds of other unpleasant observations, which made the
poor child very unhappy. So as soon as her sisters had left her, she
determined to go down to her foster-mother's cottage, and seek
consolation from her.
Off she set, and walked down to the forest, crying all the way, until
she got to the cottage. There, to her dismay, she found the door
locked, for the good woman had gone to carry her husband's dinner out
to him on the plain, and had locked up the house until her return.
Belinda did not know what to do, for as she was not very strong, she
felt somewhat tired with her walk, and not equal to walking back again
without rest. So she sat down in the trellised arbour by the cottage
door, and presently fell fast asleep. As she slept, she dreamed a
curious dream. She thought that her mother came and looked upon her. Of
course, Belinda could not remember her mother, for the very good reason
that she had died very shortly after the child was born. Still, somehow
or other, she knew it was her mother, very bright and beautiful, and
with such a loving look upon her face as only mothers have when they
gaze upon their children. When her mother had looked down upon her for
a little while, she stooped down and spoke, in a soft, sweet, gentle
tone of voice.
"My little one," she said, "do not despair and be down-hearted: all
will yet be well with you. You have had much trouble in the past, but
your happiness in the future will be all the brighter by the contrast.
If you want help, you are near it now, for Canetto, the Prince of the
Forest Mannikins, is my cousin, and you are in his country."
Belinda started up wide-awake, just as her mother seemed to have
finished speaking. The words were still ringing in her ears, and she
looked round and rubbed her eyes in great amazement. There was nothing
to be seen. A soft breeze from the south gently stirred the leaves of
the honeysuckle and sweetbriar which enfolded the little arbour in
their fragrant embrace. The doves were gently cooing in the fir-trees,
and far, far away she heard the distant bleating of the sheep on the
plain, but there was no mortal being near her. The loving mother, then,
had been but the unreal vision of a dream, and the encouraging words
had been no more than a passing thought or fancy of her own,
mysteriously clothed for a moment with sound. Yet they seemed so
vivid--so true. So certain was she that she had actually heard them,
that almost insensibly she found herself repeating them aloud.
"Canetto, the Prince of the Forest Mannikins," she exclaimed, and the
next moment started with affright at the effect which her own words had
produced.
"Who calls Canetto?" said a voice; and at the same instant she
perceived a figure standing a few yards off from the entrance to the
arbour. It was the figure of a little old man, about three feet high,
dressed in a dark green coat, with a velveteen waistcoat and white
corduroys. In his hand he held a hunting-whip, with which he carelessly
flicked off the heads of the daisies as he stood. Upon his head was a
species of wide-awake, as far as Belinda could judge; at least it was
of that kind of shape, and seemed to be made of some light material
suited to the heat of the weather. But the most remarkable thing about
the old gentleman was the marvellous mixture of intelligence and
good-humour which appeared upon his countenance. His eyes sparkled with
a kind of light, which told you at the first glance that he was not a
man to be easily hum-bugged, whilst the smile which seemed constantly
hovering upon his mouth betokened a fund of humour and kind-heartedness
which was very reassuring to the young princess.
"Who calls Canetto?" he said again, in a kind voice.
The maiden knew that common politeness, as well as her own interest,
required a prompt reply.
"Sir," she said, "I am Belinda, King Fridolin's youngest daughter, and
my mother was your cousin, I think, and I am very unhappy, and I don't
know what to do, and I dreamed that my mother came and told me to ask
you to help me; and oh! pray don't be angry with me, for I do not want
to do any harm to anybody, only if I may be a little happier!"
While Belinda spoke the little man kept on flicking his hunting-whip
and smiling benignly all the time.
"A little happier, my lambkin?" he said as soon as she had finished.
"To be sure you shall. Why not? Your mother my cousin? That she was
indeed, poor darling! Not only my cousin was she, but we used to be the
best of friends before she married King Fridolin, after which I saw
little of her, and knew nothing of her great trouble until it was too
late to help her."
At these words the princess quite forgot her own sorrow for the moment,
in the intense desire she had to know the history of the mother of whom
neither her father nor her sisters ever spoke.
"Oh, sir," she cried in an agitated voice, "please tell me about my
dear mother. I have so longed to know all about her, and I never shall
know unless somebody tells me, for she died when I was quite little,
and no one in the palace ever speaks of her to me."
A tinge of melancholy replaced the smile upon the little man's face as
he replied to Belinda's question.
"Your mother," said he, "was neither more nor less than an angel, which
is more than I can say for your royal father; although, after all, his
faults are rather those of his education than any which arise from his
natural disposition, which is far from bad. But it is difficult for
kings, who have the world at their feet and always get their own way,
to be all that one could wish them. Your mother was as near perfection,
in body as well as mind, as any human being can attain. Why she married
your father I could never understand, except it was because she chose
to do so. There were others," (here the small gentleman drew himself up
to his full height, placed his right hand upon his heart, and heaved a
deep sigh), "there were others who loved her as well and might have
made her happier. But Fridolin carried her off, and for a time they
were happy. When your elder sisters were born he was contented,
although he had wished for a prince, but he could not object to
children of such rare beauty. Then came the trouble.
"The fairy Nuisancenika had, and has, wondrous power over the Plain
country--by which I don't mean the country of 'plain' people, though
_she_ is 'plain' enough in all conscience, but the flat country,
wherever there are no woods and hills. Well, this disagreeable woman
was always jealous of your mother's beauty, because she herself
possessed none, and was the more angry with her because, I think, she
always had a fancy to be queen herself. Still, she dared not injure a
queen who had carefully avoided doing anything which might give her
reasonable cause of offence. True, she did what she could to poison
your father's mind and make him dislike his wife; but, save for an
unfortunate accident, I think she would have failed altogether. The
poor queen dropped her writing-case upon one occasion, and the wicked
fairy, finding it, secured some of her private note paper and envelopes
with her own particular cipher thereupon. Of these she made use by
writing, in exact imitation of your mother's handwriting, some very
disagreeable things about the king, which she took good care should
fall into his hands. This caused unpleasantness between the hitherto
happy couple, and Nuisancenika made it her business to manage that it
should not pass away. Then, most unhappily, in driving out one day in
her pony-carriage, your poor mother had the bad luck to drive over one
of the fairy's favourite adders, which was fast asleep on a grass ride
where it had no earthly business to be, and had no right whatever to
complain of being killed. But the wicked mistress was furious beyond
measure; and as the event occurred when the queen was in the plain
country, driving, I believe, to fetch her husband news how the lambing
was going on, this circumstance somehow or other gave the fairy power
over her which she cruelly used. Had I only known of it in time, the
whole misfortune might have been prevented, but I chanced to be away on
a visit, and when I returned, your mother was dead and the mischief
done. I heard of it too late, and the wretch Nuisancenika had taken
such precautions by her enchantments during my absence that, although
my power is greater than hers, I could do nothing at all in the matter;
nor could I have even disclosed to you the truth, as I have now done,
unless you had, of your own free will, come into my country and asked
me the question outright."
By the time Canetto had finished his sad story, the poor child to whom
he spoke was bathed in tears. She thought not of herself, for her want
of beauty and good shape were misfortunes which she had been long
accustomed to regard with resignation; but the sorrows and sufferings
of her mother penetrated her gentle spirit with the profoundest
emotion. She looked up through her tears at the little man, and thanked
him in a soft, low voice, broken by her sobs, for his goodness in
satisfying her curiosity.
After a short pause he began again:--
"Dry your tears, my petkin," he said, "for I have not come here to make
you miserable, but the very reverse, if I can but manage to do so. It
was only right that you should know the sorrows of your mother, and the
story of your birth, but I should not have cared to tell you if I could
do nothing more. It is now _your_ turn to speak, and tell me the reason
of your coming here; because I have had no communication with the
palace, and could have none, during the time that the spell lasted,
which you have this day broken by coming here."
Belinda did as she was told (which young ladies should always do, if
they wish to be respected and beloved, unless they are told to do
something which they dislike, in which case of course it is quite a
different matter) and then proceeded to tell the Prince of the Forest
Mannikins the whole story of her life, her affection for Zac, the
conduct of her sisters with regard to that excellent youth, and her
present affliction in consequence of his imprisonment by her father.
During the narration of her story, the little man flicked his
hunting-whip continually and appeared at once interested and excited.
When she had concluded, and seemed much inclined to indulge in another
flood of tears, he hastily stopped her.
"Little petkin," he remarked, "crying can do nobody any good at all,
and least of all anyone who has another and better cure for their
misfortunes. Come with me, Childerkin, and we will see whether
something cannot be done to make matters wear a better appearance."
With these words Canetto led the way into the forest behind the
shepherd's cottage, and Belinda followed him with the utmost
confidence, being quite sure that he meant to help her if he could. And
here we must leave our little princess for a time, in order to return
to another individual in whom we ought to be equally interested.
Poor Zac had been cast into a most uncomfortable dungeon, in which
there was only one half-broken wooden form to sit down upon, whilst the
air was close and heavy, the space confined, and the only light came
from a grating in one corner of the ceiling, probably placed there for
the purposes of ventilation, and opening into the bottom of a kind of
deep ditch, which itself could only be reached by the light from a long
distance above. This was indeed a sad change for the poor boy, who had
so long been accustomed to the comforts and luxuries of the palace. He
felt, as was natural, much cast down and dispirited by his sudden
reverse of fortune, and his only consolation was that he had not
brought it on himself by any bad conduct of his own. It was very
unpleasant, certainly, to be accused of behaving badly to the two
princesses, when no one could have possibly behaved better; but he
thought to himself that it would have been much worse if he had really
been guilty. Besides, he had another consolation, in the firm reliance
which he felt in the constancy and affection of Belinda. She, he knew,
would be true to him, whatever happened, and this thought cheered his
drooping spirits.
He felt rather hungry, and, finding a loaf of black bread and a pitcher
of water near it, determined to satisfy his craving forthwith. Having
done this there was nothing for it but to sit and think, which he
accordingly did, going carefully over in his mind all the events of his
past life, and wondering much at the curious fate which had befallen
him. He could not recollect anything that had happened when he was
_very_ young. He only remembered being very unhappy at his father's
house, being called by his elder brothers and sisters "the little
gentleman," and pushed about here and there and everywhere, as if
everybody wished him out of the way. Then he called to mind how hard he
had tried to be gentle and loving to all, and how he had gradually
seemed to get on better and to be more kindly treated. Then came the
circumstance of his having specially to tend the pigs, and then the
proclamation of the pig-race, when he remembered a discussion about who
should ride "Sandy Sue," and how one of the elder Dicksons had been
anxious to do so, but was forbidden by his father, who said that
"gentleman Zac" was the only one who could win on her, and ride he
should. Since that day of course he remembered everything very
distinctly--how he had been introduced to the little princess, and her
sisters, and the king--how frightened he had been at first, and how
soon he had got over that feeling--how kind they had all been to
him--how he had taken to his learning and delighted in his books; and
then all the sad and trying events of the last few months and his
sudden downfall from his career of promised happiness.
All these thoughts passed through the poor boy's head as he sat in his
lonely dungeon, and hours slipped by without his taking any count of
them. The shades of evening had now fallen upon the palace, but this
made little difference to Zac, and indeed he found he could see rather
better than upon his first entrance, since his eyes began to become
accustomed to the light. All at once he heard a little noise, as if
some animal was scratching close at hand. He looked listlessly round,
and thought how little it mattered to him what it was. A rat or a mouse
would be a companion to his solitude, but if such a creature appeared
it would probably fly as soon as it caught sight of him. The noise
continued, and in another moment a little mouse poked its head out of a
hole in the corner of the dungeon, and fixed its sharp black eyes upon
the prisoner as if it had come on purpose to see him and was very glad
to find him disengaged. Zac did not move at first, being fearful lest
he should disturb his little visitor; but he need not have been
alarmed, for it presently came quite out of the hole and sat a few
yards off from him, steadily looking him in the face. Seeing the
confidence of the animal, Zac thought there could be no fear of his
driving it away by the sound of his voice, so he said, partly to the
mouse and partly to himself:--
"Poor little creature, I wonder what _you_ want here?"
To his intense surprise the small creature immediately replied, in a
shrill but by no means unpleasant voice:--
"I came to see you, Mr. Zac, and to tell you the latest news."
"To see me!" exclaimed the astonished boy. "Well, you must be the best
mouse that ever was born to come and take pity upon a poor prisoner
like me. And since you can talk so well, perhaps you will kindly inform
me what news it is you have to tell."
"King Fridolin is very, very angry with you, Mr. Zac," replied the
mouse.
"Unfortunately, my little darling, _that_ is no news at all," rejoined
the boy; "I knew it, to my cost, some hours ago, and it is for that
very reason that you find me here."
"But," continued the mouse, "he is so angry that he is determined to
punish you with the most terrible punishment ever known, and is only
doubting now whether you shall be thrown into the adder-pit, or
stripped, smeared with honey and tied to a tree to amuse the wasps and
flies."
The poor boy shuddered at these words; but, recovering his firmness
immediately, rejoined:--
"Whatever it be, it will be in a good cause that I shall suffer, and I
must bear it as best I may."
The mouse went on:--
"You really ought not to have tried to kiss the Princess Concaterina,
Mr. Zac," she said.
"If you know anything at all, little mouse," said the boy, indignantly,
"you must know that I did no such thing."
"Then," rejoined the other, "why did you not deny it before the king?"
"Do you think I would brand Belinda's own sisters as the tellers of a
falsehood?" returned Zac.
"I think _I_ should, sooner than be thrown into a dungeon, and perhaps
into an adder-pit afterwards," gravely observed his visitor. "But they
say there is some hope for you yet; for the princesses are really fond
of you, and if you will consent to marry Concaterina, all may yet be
well with you."
"Do you think I would be so base as to save my life upon such terms?"
angrily responded the boy.
"Well, I don't know," said the mouse in a slow, hesitating tone of
voice, "I think I should, if I were you. I should really advise you to
do so. Just consider what a disagreeable, uncomfortable place this is,
compared with the palace. Then how _very_ unpleasant it would be to
feel the adders, creeping all over you with their cold, slimy touch,
and then stinging you to death at their leisure afterwards. Or how
painful and distressing to feel the wasps and flies biting and stinging
you, cheerfully buzzing about to look out for a tender place. Oh, it
would be a horrible death to die! I should _strongly_ advise you to
marry Concaterina and escape such a fate!"
"What!" exclaimed Zac, "do you come here pretending to be a friend of
mine, and advise me to be false to Belinda and break my plighted word?
I am quite ashamed of you for giving such advice, little mouse; as I
should be of myself if I could listen to it for one moment!"
"As for Belinda," replied the animal, shaking its head sorrowfully, "I
do not think you need concern yourself about _her_. She implicitly
believes the charge against you, and is eager that you should be
punished; whilst her tender-hearted sisters are inclined to ask their
father to pardon you."
At these words Zac started up in a great passion.
"Belinda false!" he cried. "Belinda believe me _guilty_! Mouse, I will
never believe it! You have betrayed yourself, and are an enemy instead
of a friend. I would sooner believe evil of myself than of the princess
against whom you utter this calumny. Take this for your wicked
falsehood!" So saying, he seized his shoe to throw at the mouse; when,
to his intense surprise, the little animal became suddenly transformed
into a human being, and Belinda herself stood before him.
"Dearest Zac!" she said, running up at once to the boy and embracing
him tenderly, "forgive me for the trial to which I have put your
constancy. It was not _my_ wish to do so, but the order of those who
have the right to command. I have found a friend who is as able as he
is willing to help us, and by his assistance I believe our happiness
will yet be secured. By his power I have been enabled to visit you in
your dungeon in the shape of a mouse, in order that I might convey to
you some information which is quite necessary to your safety."