DONKEY-BACK.
Raymond ran on without paying attention to the way he was going so
long as it was away from King Ormund and his company. By and by he
came to another road, narrower than the one he had left, but leading
also towards the city. There was a heap of stones on the roadside, and
on this Raymond sat down to think over his adventure.
It was a puzzle, whichever way he looked at it. Had the King been
making game of him all along? No, his Majesty had without doubt looked
upon him as a person of consequence. But if so, what had so suddenly
undeceived him?
'The dwarf must be at the bottom of it,' said Raymond to himself.
But how? The dwarf had given him the cap and promised him the kingdom.
He had been very near getting the kingdom; but the cap had only given
him a headache. He pulled it out of his doublet and looked at it.
Yes, it was a fine cap. But Raymond had got to feel such a dislike of
it that, had he owned another, he would have thrown this away. But it
would never do to make his entrance into London bareheaded.
'But why should I go to London at all?' Raymond asked himself. 'I
don't really want to be a king: I only like to think about being one.
Shall I go back to the Brindled Cow and Rosamund? Yes, I will!' And
with that he got up, put on his cap, and took two or three steps in
the direction of Honeymead.
'But what an ass I should be,' he said, stopping short, 'to turn back
at the very gates of London! Besides, it is too late to get back to
Honeymead to-night. I won't return before to-morrow. Something may
happen after all.'
He faced about once more towards London.
'It is an odd thing,' he remarked to himself as he went along, 'how I
keep changing my mind first one way and then another. Why is it? It
used not to be so when I was in Honeymead. It almost seems as if I
were not the same fellow; or as if I were sometimes myself, and
sometimes somebody else. I believe there must be something of that
kind the matter with me,' he continued after a while. 'Look how those
courtiers treated me. They were all cap and knee to me one moment, and
the next they were all shouting out "Who is he? Cap and knee--who is
he?" Hullo! I have an idea! It is--it isn't--can it be--the cap?'
He snatched it off his head, and round the band he read again the
couplet that had mystified him before:--
Cap on--cap and knee!
Cap off--who is he?
The words began to have a meaning now. Fairies and magic spells were
at that time common-place matters in England. Fairy stories were not
written then, but the events they tell about used to happen. The dwarf
himself had called the cap a talisman. 'I will try the experiment with
the next person I see,' said Raymond to himself.
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when a noise of pattering
hoofs made him look round, and he saw a young fellow riding towards
him on the extreme end of a small donkey. Raymond stood in the middle
of the road, his cap in his hand.
'Get out of the way, you!' called out the rider as he drew near. 'I'm
going to the Seven Brethren. Now then, stupid!'
'I also am in a hurry to get to London,' said Raymond politely.
'Couldn't you give me a ride there?'
'Mind your eye, numskull!' cried the other; and he tried to drive his
donkey directly over Raymond. But Raymond caught the bridle, and at
the same time put on his cap. Everything depended on what the
donkey-rider did next.
Greatly to Raymond's gratification--though it half-frightened him
too--the fellow immediately slipped backwards over his donkey's tail;
and, having reached the ground, made an awkward but obsequious salute.
'Beg your Worship's pardon humbly!' said he, ducking his head and
scraping his foot at every few words. 'Didn't know your Worship at
first. Hope your Worship will pardon a poor lad whose intellects are
not quite right.'
Indeed, the fellow appeared only half-witted. He had round goggle
eyes, a silly mouth, and scarcely any forehead at all.
As for Raymond he felt more like hugging the fellow than merely
pardoning him; but he remembered that he must keep up his dignity.
Moreover, he now perceived that the wearing of the cap made almost as
much change in his own feelings as in other people's opinion of him.
'I will overlook your mistake,' he said condescendingly; 'and in proof
of it I will make use of your donkey as far as the city; for I am
weary, and there is not much time to lose.'
'Indeed, then, your Worship, he's not fit for a gentleman like your
Worship to be riding on,' replied the fellow, ducking again; 'but, if
your Worship doesn't mind, I should be proud to see your Worship
sitting on him; and he'll carry your Worship well.'
Raymond mounted accordingly, and the party proceeded on their way, the
fellow trotting behind, and occasionally persuading the donkey with
the oaken cudgel he carried. Meanwhile Raymond asked him some
questions.
'You are going to the Seven Brethren?'
'Yes, your Worship. There are good things there, as your Worship
knows.'
'How should I know?'
'La! as if I couldn't see that your Worship was one of them himself!'
'It must be the same Seven Brethren of which the dwarf spoke,' thought
Raymond; and he said aloud, 'They meet to-night at five o'clock, I
think?'
'Right, your Worship. And your Worship may trust me. "Yellow-cap" is
the password, "seven" the number, and "five" the time. Isn't it, your
Worship?'
Raymond felt much obliged by this information, though he was careful
not to say so. When they came to the city gates he slipped off the
donkey at a moment when the other was not looking, at the same time
removing his cap; when he had the pleasure of seeing the fellow turn
to him and ask him whether he had seen 'his Worship?' Raymond only
shook his head in reply; and then, following the donkey and its owner
at a distance, he presently saw them turn into a narrow archway.