Up till now there had been nothing to disturb that island stillness. No
new thing had ever happened. No discussion had ever been held.
And then, of a sudden, the Three Companions appeared, thrown up by
the sea,--and the Great Debate began. There were three main points of
dispute.
First, to what caste should these unclassed strangers belong? Should
they rank with the Court Cards? Or were they merely lower-caste people,
to be ranked with the Nines and Tens? No precedent could be quoted to
decide this weighty question.
Secondly, what was their clan? Had they the fairer hue and bright
complexion of the Hearts, or was theirs the darker complexion of the
Clubs? Over this question there were interminable disputes. The whole
marriage system of the island, with its intricate regulations, would
depend on its nice adjustment.
Thirdly, what food should they take? With whom should they live and
sleep? And should their heads be placed south-west, north-west, or only
north-east? In all the Kingdom of Cards a series of problems so vital
and critical had never been debated before.
But the Three Companions grew desperately hungry. They had to get
food in some way or other. So while this debate went on, with its
interminable silence and pauses, and while the Aces called their own
meeting, and formed themselves into a Committee, to find some obsolete
dealing with the question, the Three Companions themselves were eating
all they could find, and drinking out of every vessel, and breaking all
regulations.
Even the Twos and Threes were shocked at this outrageous behaviour. The
Threes said; "Brother Twos, these people are openly shameless!" And
the Twos said: "Brother Threes, they are evidently of lower caste than
ourselves!" After their meal was over, the Three Companions went for a
stroll in the city.
When they saw the ponderous people moving in their dismal processions
with prim and solemn faces, then the Prince turned to the Son of the
Merchant and the Son of the Kotwal, and threw back his head, and gave
one stupendous laugh.
Down Royal Street and across Ace Square and along the Knave Embankment
ran the quiver of this strange, unheard-of laughter, the laughter that,
amazed at itself, expired in the vast vacuum of silence.
The Son of the Kotwal and the Son of the Merchant were chilled through
to the bone by the ghost-like stillness around them. They turned to the
Prince, and said: "Comrade, let us away. Let us not stop for a moment in
this awful land of ghosts."
But the Prince said: "Comrades, these people resemble men, so I am going
to find out, by shaking them upside down and outside in, whether they
have a single drop of warm living blood left in their veins."