could be desired, and the monarch, with his attendant courtiers,
arrived in due time at the house, and was ushered into the spacious
hall, where everything had been arranged for his reception. The three
daughters of the house, dressed exactly alike, were there to receive
him; but not a flower was to be seen about any of them, so that the
fatal error of the Prime Minister's children might be avoided. They
were dressed simply, and reverently knelt before the king as they
raised their voices to sing (in tones as true as they were sweet) an
ode which their father had himself composed in honour of his
sovereign's visit.
Scarcely, however, had they finished the first verse, when the little
tyrant roared out at the top of his voice--
"They sing out of tune! they sing out of tune! A royal ear is never
deceived! He has made them do it because he knows I cannot bear a false
note. Seize him, guards! away with him and his shabbily-dressed girls!"
Chinks stepped forward to explain matters in his most courtly fashion,
when the king brought down his sceptre upon his head with such a
"thwack," that you might have heard it at the other end of the hall,
and, though his wig, which was particularly large, partially saved him,
he dropped senseless upon the floor, whilst his daughters broke into
shrieks of despair which were really out of tune, and were painful
indeed to hear.
Famcram stopped his ears, and howled loudly for his guard, and before
many minutes had passed, the Lord Chamberlain and his daughters were on
their way to the same dungeons whither Binks and his girls had preceded
them, and the king was occupied in selecting everything in the house
which appeared to be most costly and beautiful, and directing that it
should be forthwith sent to his palace.
Thus within a few days were two out of the three great functionaries of
the kingdom dismissed, disgraced, and left in great peril of their
lives, whilst the king had added considerably to his wealth, and had
got rid of two people whom he had either suspected or pretended to
suspect of being likely to be troublesome.
These events made a profound impression upon the mind of Pigspud, and
all the more so when notice came from the king that he should pay him a
visit in the following week. The Lord Chief Justice was a wily and
astute man. Although his life had not been reputable, the peccadilloes
of great lawyers in that country were so usual as to be regarded by the
public with a lenient eye, and, late in life, his appearance had become
so eminently respectable, that a stranger would certainly have taken
him for a dean rather than for a judge, for a deep divine rather than
for a learned lawyer.
He had but one daughter. Tall, majestic of stature (for she was nearly
four feet high), and with dark hair and eyes so bright that they seemed
to look right through you, Ophelia Pigspud was a most remarkable woman.
She was well read; so well read that people said she could have passed
an examination with credit in almost any subject she had been pleased
to try. Reading, in fact, was no effort to her, and her powers of
memory were extraordinarily great. It was even said that she knew more
of law than many lawyers of the day, whilst no one could deny her skill
in modern languages, and her astonishing proficiency in general
literature.
As the venerable Chief Justice gazed upon his child, who was indeed the
pride of his heart, he could not but feel uneasy at the prospect of her
being sent to join the families of Binks and Chinks in the dungeons of
the royal palace.
"Never," he exclaimed, "shall such a fate befall my peerless Ophelia!"
And having given utterance to this exalted sentiment, he thought for
three days and three nights how to carry it out, and utterly failed to
discover anything at all likely to succeed. Then he bethought himself
of consulting the young lady herself, of whose opinion he thought so
highly that it is curious he had not done so before.
She smiled calmly when he laid the case before her, reminding her at
the same time that there wanted but three more days to the time fixed
by the king for his visit.
"Be not alarmed, my beloved father," said she, "but be assured that the
blood of a true Pigspud will not be untrue to itself in the coming
trial. Besides, the education which your kind care has provided for me,
has taught me means of escape from even worse dangers than those which
can proceed from our tyrannical sovereign. Doubt not that it will turn
out well."
With such reassuring words did the daughter of the Chief Justice
restore courage to the heart of her parent, and he began to look
forward with less fear to the banquet at which it had been arranged
that he should entertain his royal master. It was to be served in the
large banqueting hall of his town house, and great preparations were
set on foot for several days before that appointed for the festive
gathering. But instead of busying herself about the matter, Ophelia
treated it as if it was one wholly indifferent to her, and refused to
be troubled about it in any way whatever. It was in vain that the
domestics, who were accustomed to take all orders from her, besought
her to give various directions upon different questions which arose.
She declined altogether; deputing everything to Mrs. Brushemup, the
housekeeper; and telling old Winelees, the butler, not to come near her
on pain of instant dismissal.
Her own rooms were in a wing of the house which stretched down to the
banks of the river already mentioned, and from a private door she could
get down upon the banks without coming in sight of the windows of the
principal apartments.
But before I relate that which happened to the fair Ophelia at this
eventful time, it is but right to inquire what had become of the
unhappy families who had already felt the weight of the tyrant
Famcram's displeasure. Binks, with his two, and Chinks, with his three
daughters, had been cast into the dungeons of the Royal Palace, and the
wife of Chinks having been added to the party, greatly increased the
misery of all by her continual upbraidings of her husband and his
friend as the cause of the misfortune which had befallen their two
families, which were all the more hard to bear, because they were
totally unreasonable and without foundation.
The dungeons were small, hot, and unsavoury, and the prisoners suffered
greatly, especially as the food supplied to them was scanty in quantity
and wretched in quality. The young ladies endeavoured to pass away the
time in composing epitaphs upon their parents and themselves, which
after all did but little towards raising their spirits, being, as such
things not uncommonly are, of a somewhat melancholy character. Euphemia
and Araminta, however, were so proud of one of their compositions, that
it would be a pity that it should be lost to the world:--
"Here lies the minister, great Binks,
No more he for his country thinks;
No more he eats--no more he drinks--
But, conquered by misfortune, sinks."
The daughters of the Lord Chamberlain were scarcely equal to such a
poetic effort as the above; but, determined not to be behindhand,
presented their parent with the following stanza:--
"Look through these bars with eye of lynx,
And see the chamberlain, Lord Chinks!
He scarce can breathe, and feebly winks,
Quite done to death by prison stinks."
In this manner did the innocent maidens endeavour to lighten the hours
of captivity which passed over their heads, and when, upon the second
week of their imprisonment, they were moved into larger and more airy
apartments, hope at once revived within their drooping bosoms. It must,
however, be confessed, that in the midst of their distress both Binks
and Chinks contemplated with silent but real satisfaction the probably
speedy advent of Pigspud to join them in their prison, and share their
sorrows. This event they both regarded as quite certain to occur, and
without having any particular ill-feeling towards the Chief Justice,
the three had been too long in the position of rivals to make either
two sorry for any misfortune that befell the third, especially if it
had previously fallen upon themselves.
Leaving these worthies to their expectations, we will now endeavour to
discover what was passing at the abode of Pigspud. It was the evening
but one before the projected banquet. The shades of evening were fast
closing in around the city, and the mists of the river were beginning
to rise like vapoury spirits from the water, when the private door of
Ophelia's wing was stealthily and quietly opened, and a figure emerged,
clothed from head to foot in a cloak of dark gray. Slowly but surely,
as one who knew the road well, the figure passed along the low
terrace-walk that led down to the bank of the river, and stood at the
brink, silently for a few moments, and then began to murmur words in a
low tone. A listener, however attentive, could scarcely have made out
the meaning of that which Ophelia (for it was none other than the
daughter of the house of Pigspud) was reciting, for the language in
which she spoke was strange, and her tone somewhat indistinct;--
"Marley-quarley-pachel-farley,
Mansto macken furlesparley,
Mondo pondo sicho pinto,
Framsigalen hannotinto."
Such were the mystic words which issued from the lips of the maiden.
Nor was it long before a response was given. A low murmuring sound
proceeded from the river, and out of the rushes which fringed the bank
there presently arose a form of strange and weird appearance. It was
that of an old, a very old woman, with a red cloak wrapped around her,
an umbrella in her hand, and a poke bonnet upon the top of her head.
She was small, though not much below the ordinary height of a Pigmy;
but the most remarkable thing about her was the extreme keenness of her
eye, which seemed to pierce you through and through when she fixed it
upon you. Slowly she rose from among the rushes, and scrambled, somehow
or other, up the bank, until she stood opposite to the maiden who had
summoned her. As soon as she had accomplished this feat, she struck her
umbrella upon the ground, and remarked in a somewhat masculine tone of
voice:
"What is it, Ophelia, and what do you fear,
That you've called your affectionate godmother here?
Has your 'Pa' been unkind? (since no 'Ma' you have got),
Or a lover appeared when you'd rather he'd _not_?
Are you ill, or unhappy, or is't for a freak
That your godmother's presence you suddenly seek?"
Ophelia listened with respectful attention whilst the old woman uttered
these words, and then replied in a low, sweet voice:--
"Did I not deem the crisis grave
I had not called thee from thy wave:
And if in doing so I err,
Forgive me, gracious godmother!
My father knows thee not, great dame;
My mother told me, all the same,
Thou _wast_ my godmother, and so
I love thee in my weal and woe.
O'ercome by cruel destiny,
Poor Binks and Chinks in dungeons lie,
And our bad king--a grievous sin--
Hath likewise put their daughters in.
Dear godmother! 'twere sad, you know,
My father should to prison go;
But sadder still (you'll hardly fail
To see) that _I_ should go to gaol.
Yet is the time but two days hence
When Famcram comes; on some pretence
He'll surely send us both to pris'n,
And make _our_ valuables hisn.
Dear Godmother! Pray leave thy wave
Thy loving god-daughter to save,
Or tell me how, by thy kind aid,
The tyrant's power I may evade!"
Whilst Ophelia was speaking, the old woman kept tapping her umbrella
upon the ground in visible wrath, and a frown appearing upon her face,
which was otherwise not particularly beautiful, did not greatly improve
her personal appearance. As soon as the maiden ceased, she lost not a
moment in making her reply:--
"I'm ready, my darling, to do your behest,
For tyrants like Famcram I greatly detest,
And if your good father was not such a dolt,
From the land of the despot he'd speedily bolt.
For Binks and for Chinks I have nothing to say,
And they're probably just as well out of the way;
But as to their daughters--I'm really inclined
To think that the king has gone out of his mind,
And in _your_ case, I'll teach him, as well as I can,
A woman has rights just as much as a man,
And he's vastly mistaken, poor wretch, if he thinks
A god-child of mine is the same as Miss Binks.
Now listen to me: when King Famcram comes here,
Betray not the slightest suspicion of fear,
But enter, quite calmly, the banqueting room
Arrayed in your commonest morning costume.
He'll show irritation; and rage, beyond doubt
(You know he could scarcely be royal without);
But never mind _that_, tho' he rages meanwhile,
Bestow on the fool a contemptuous smile;
In spite of his anger, continue the same,
And ask 'If he isn't content, why he came?'
Whate'er he replies, pray be careful of this,
And do not one word or one syllable miss;
As soon as he threatens, stand just as you are,
But hold up before him this earthenware jar,
Remarking, 'King Famcram, determined I am
To ask you to taste of my raspberry jam.'
He'll do it--he must--since, the truth for to tell,
This jar carries with it a wonderful spell;
And when I've said o'er it the words I'll now say,
Whoever you choose will acknowledge your sway.
While kept in your hand (not a difficult task)
Each person you speak to will do what you ask;
And once the jam tasted, you'll have for your slave
King Famcram, and teach him the way to behave.
But keep the jar safe, for, broken or chipped,
Of your spell and your sway you'll be speedily stripped."
With these words the old lady, who, whilst speaking, had pulled out of
some pocket or other, or else from the folds of her umbrella, a small
jar, now held it aloft in her hand and displayed it before the eyes of
Ophelia. As soon as she had done so for as long a time as she thought
fit, she stuck her umbrella firmly into the ground, and holding the jar
immediately over it, pronounced certain mystic and fearful words, which
no mortal of ordinary nature could utter, much less write, and which
there is the less reason to mention, because if they were written or
uttered, no child of man could possibly understand them. But when she
had finished this fearful muttering to herself, she spoke out more
loudly, addressing herself thus to the jar and its contents:
"Jar! possessed of mighty spell,
Do thy work, and do it well.
Serve Ophelia night and day--
Famcram bring beneath her sway.
Jam! do duty day and night;
Tempt the royal appetite--
Be to Famcram wine and meat,
Bring him to Ophelia's feet;
Cause him eagerly to crave
Life but as Ophelia's slave;
Bow him humbly, bring him down,
At her footstool place his crown,
And, thy mission to fulfil,
Let him live but by her will."
Having finished her incantation, and repeated these lines in a voice
sufficiently distinct, though not unlike the croak of a raven, the old
woman now turned once more to Ophelia, as if to ascertain whether she
had anything more to say. The maiden smiled sweetly upon her, and at
once expressed her thanks in the following words:--
"Dear godmother! how good thou art!
The burden now has left my heart,
Which like a weight has bowed me down
With fear of tyrant Famcram's frown.
Well do I know 'twere hard to find
A councillor more wise and kind;
And, with thy might and magic aid
No longer shall I feel afraid.
I'll use the jar and jam as told,
And very tight the former hold,
And when King Famcram is subdued
I, with this magic power imbued,
Will make him slave--and let him know it--
And ne'er forget to whom I owe it!"
So speaking, Ophelia held out her hand for the promised jar, when the
old woman, making a stride forward, placed it in her hands, and then,
throwing both her arms round the maiden, clasped her tightly in a long
and loving embrace with which she could very well have dispensed.
Gratitude, however, for the immense favour which she was about to
receive at the hands of her excellent godmother, prevented her from
disclosing the repugnance which she probably felt at the vehemence of
the old lady's affection, and having endured it with silent fortitude,
she took the jar into her hands, and, bidding her companion a
respectful farewell, forthwith re-entered the private door through
which she had come, and shortly disappeared within the house.
The old woman then took up her umbrella, and slowly descending the bank
of the river to the rushes from which she had emerged, speedily became
invisible. The shades of night closed in, and darkness soon set its
seal upon the Pigmy capital and nation.
The Chief Justice did not see his daughter that evening, and although
he had great confidence in her sagacity, talents, and resources, it
must be confessed that he rose next morning with a heavy heart. In all
probability, he thought, it was his last day of office, and not only of
office, but of freedom. With the fate of the Prime Minister and the
Lord Chamberlain before his eyes, how could he possibly hope to escape?
For a moment the thought of flight crossed his mind, but was as
instantly banished. His hopes, his wealth, his relations, his
home--everything that could make life pleasant was fixed and centred in
his native country, and at his age no change was to be thought of or
could be endured. And then, where could he fly to, and how escape from
the tyrant's spies?
No: the thought was madness--the event, be it what it might, must be
encountered: the morrow must come in its due course, and, after all,
he, a lawyer, a statesman and a philosopher, ought to be able to put up
with his fate at least as well as other people.
While the worthy Pigspud thus mused upon the melancholy prospect before
him, he was interrupted by the approach of his daughter, the calmness
of whose countenance and demeanour was certainly calculated to reassure
her anxious parent. However, although she spoke hopefully and bade the
old man take courage and be sure that things would turn out better than
he expected, she told him not one word about her secret interview of
the previous evening, or of the powerful assistance she had procured.
So the old gentleman passed but a sad day, and could only console
himself by resolving to be loyal to the last to his sovereign, and to
provide him an entertainment of which he should not be ashamed.
Vast, indeed, were the preparations made for that banquet. So many
delicacies had probably not been collected together for one repast
within the memory of man. Nothing was omitted. From the oysters with
which each guest was to be furnished at the beginning, down to the
liqueurs at the end of the feast, everything was there, and everything
was in perfection.
Pigspud had even hired a special poet to compose and recite an ode in
praise of the King, but there were doubts expressed as to the complete
success of the composition, confined as it was to the doings of the
table, and celebrating dishes which were made to tickle the palate by
their taste rather than the ear by their well-sung praises. The ode
began,--
"Come servants all, the table put on
Well-roasted beef and tender mutton.
Guests, down your throats white veal and lamb cram,
And drink the health of good King Famcram!
Consume the oaten cakes and wheat-bread,
The calves-foot jelly and the sweet-bread,
And own the table splendid, that is
So well supplied with oyster-patties."
There was much more of this, in a similar strain, but in the confusion
that afterwards followed, and in the interesting events which I shall
presently have to chronicle, the ode itself was lost, and as no copies
could be afterwards obtained, I am unable to supply the rest of it to
the anxious reader. With regard to the entertainment, generally, there
was certainly no fault to be found.
Old Winelees and Mrs. Brushemup had surpassed themselves, and the
confectioners, cooks and pastrycooks to whom had been assigned the
duties connected with the preparation of the affair, had exerted
themselves beyond all praise.
The decorations were gorgeous, and everything appeared to have been
arranged with such care and good taste, and with such an utter
disregard of expense, that there were not wanting many, even among
those who were acquainted (as who was not) with the upshot of the
efforts made by the Prime Minister and the Lord Chamberlain to do
honour to their sovereign, who prophesied a greater success and even a
triumphant result to the Chief Justice. The hour drew near at which
Famcram was expected, and ere long the distant trumpets heralded his
approach. The mob cheered him lustily along the streets, not because he
was popular, but because he was handsomely dressed, had his crown upon
his head and the famous sceptre in his hand, which facts were quite
sufficient to justify a mob in cheering anybody.
Nearer and nearer his carriage drew, and at last stopped before the
door of Pigspud's mansion. Then, after one last loud flourish, the
trumpets ceased to sound. The king alighted to his feet. The Chief
Justice received him kneeling on one knee.
Famcram bowed coldly, glanced right and left, and then slowly entered
the banqueting room, while his host tremblingly followed behind, his
heart balanced between hope and fear, but much, it must be owned,
inclining to the latter. The king paused at the entrance of the room.
Everything was so beautifully arranged that it was difficult to find
fault, even for one who was determined to do so. The flowers, the
fruit, the flags, the garlands, the decorations which met his eye were
all so splendid, that those who saw them, and knew at the same time
that the tyrant was certain to find some occasion to carry out his
purpose, marvelled within themselves, what cause for fault-finding he
could possibly discover, or what excuse he would be able to invent for
his action.
They had not long to marvel, however, for the next moment the eyes of
all were turned upon Ophelia, who came sauntering down the room,
between the tables, very leisurely, even carelessly, and advanced
towards the king.
She was dressed in her morning dress of an unpretending brown colour,
fitting closely to the figure, and unadorned by ornament of any kind
save a steel chatelaine, from which hung sundry useful articles,
scissors, thimble, needlecase and the like; but which added to the
suspicion which her general appearance created, that she had merely
walked from her sitting-room to the banquetting-hall without any change
of toilet in honour of the king.
This was quite enough for Famcram, and furnished him with an excuse for
anger against his Chief Justice, far more legitimate than those which
had been made the pretext for the punishment of his two brother
officials. The king lost no time in flying into a violent passion.
"What ho!" he cried, in as loud a voice as his anger would permit him
to raise. "What bold hussey is this who comes to meet her sovereign in
common everyday garments? What malapert conduct have we here?" and he
strutted forward puffing and fuming like a turkey-cock.
Ophelia, who had learned her lesson well, and knew how much depended
upon it, paid not the smallest attention to the anger of the king, but
advanced towards him with the same careless step, and a contemptuous
smile upon her countenance. Of course this made matters worse, and the
unhappy Pigspud trembled in his shoes in dire anticipation of what
would follow, whilst the courtiers and attendants opened their eyes
wider than they had ever done at the strange conduct of the infatuated
maiden.
The sight of the smile upon the maiden's face incensed Famcram to a
still greater degree. He stamped violently upon the floor, and turning
to the Chief Justice demanded in imperious tones what was the meaning
of this insult.
"Who is it?" he cried, "who is this brazen-faced daughter of a demon
who dares to come thus into our presence?"
The unhappy Pigspud in trembling tones admitted that it was his own
daughter.
"Your daughter?" exclaimed the king, with a smile or rather grin in
which fury, triumph and revenge contended for the mastery. "It is then
in your house and by your daughter that I am thus treated? I will deal
with you presently, Chief Justice. What do you mean, hussey, by this
shameful impudence?"