Dr Kelman
As soon as he had reason to hope the way was clear, Curdie ventured
softly into the hall, with Lina behind him. There was no one asleep on
the bench or floor, but by the fading fire sat a girl weeping. It was
the same who had seen him carrying off the food, and had been so hardly
used for saying so. She opened her eyes when he appeared, but did not
seem frightened at him.
'I know why you weep,' said Curdie, 'and I am sorry for you.'
'It is hard not to be believed just because one speaks the truth,' said
the girl, 'but that seems reason enough with some people. My mother
taught me to speak the truth, and took such pains with me that I should
find it hard to tell a lie, though I could invent many a story these
servants would believe at once; for the truth is a strange thing here,
and they don't know it when they see it. Show it them, and they all
stare as if it were a wicked lie, and that with the lie yet warm that
has just left their own mouths! You are a stranger,' she said, and
burst out weeping afresh, 'but the stranger you are to such a place and
such people the better!'
'I am the person,' said Curdie, whom you saw carrying the things from
the supper table.' He showed her the loaf. 'If you can trust, as well
as speak the truth, I will trust you. Can you trust me?'
She looked at him steadily for a moment.
'I can,' she answered.
'One thing more,' said Curdie: 'have you courage as well as truth?'
'I think so.'
'Look my dog in the face and don't cry out. Come here, Lina.'
Lina obeyed. The girl looked at her, and laid her hand on Lina's head.
'Now I know you are a true woman,' said curdie. 'I am come to set
things right in this house. Not one of the servants knows I am here.
Will you tell them tomorrow morning that, if they do not alter their
ways, and give over drinking, and lying, and stealing, and unkindness,
they shall every one of them be driven from the palace?'
'They will not believe me.'
'Most likely; but will you give them the chance?'
'I will.'
'Then I will be your friend. Wait here till I come again.'
She looked him once more in the face, and sat down.
When he reached the royal chamber, he found His Majesty awake, and very
anxiously expecting him. He received him with the utmost kindness, and
at once, as it were, put himself in his hands by telling him all he
knew concerning the state he was in. His voice was feeble, but his eye
was clear, although now and then his words and thoughts seemed to
wander. Curdie could not be certain that the cause of their not being
intelligible to him did not lie in himself. The king told him that for
some years, ever since his queen's death, he had been losing heart over
the wickedness of his people. He had tried hard to make them good, but
they got worse and worse. Evil teachers, unknown to him, had crept
into the schools; there was a general decay of truth and right
principle at least in the city; and as that set the example to the
nation, it must spread.
The main cause of his illness was the despondency with which the
degeneration of his people affected him. He could not sleep, and had
terrible dreams; while, to his unspeakable shame and distress, he
doubted almost everybody. He had striven against his suspicion, but in
vain, and his heart was sore, for his courtiers and councillors were
really kind; only he could not think why none of their ladies came near
his princess. The whole country was discontented, he heard, and there
were signs of gathering storm outside as well as inside his borders.
The master of the horse gave him sad news of the insubordination of the
army; and his great white horse was dead, they told him; and his sword
had lost its temper: it bent double the last time he tried it!--only
perhaps that was in a dream; and they could not find his shield; and
one of his spurs had lost the rowel.
Thus the poor king went wandering in a maze of sorrows, some of which
were purely imaginary, while others were truer than he understood. He
told how thieves came at night and tried to take his crown, so that he
never dared let it out of his hands even when he slept; and how, every
night, an evil demon in the shape of his physician came and poured
poison down his throat. He knew it to be poison, he said, somehow,
although it tasted like wine.
Here he stopped, faint with the unusual exertion of talking.
Curdie seized the flagon, and ran to the wine cellar.
In the servants' hall the girl still sat by the fire, waiting for him.
As he returned he told her to follow him, and left her at the chamber
door until he should rejoin her. When the king had had a little wine,
he informed him that he had already discovered certain of His Majesty's
enemies, and one of the worst of them was the doctor, for it was no
other demon than the doctor himself who had been coming every night,
and giving him a slow poison.
'So!' said the king. 'Then I have not been suspicious enough, for I
thought it was but a dream! Is it possible Kelman can be such a
wretch? Who then am I to trust?'
'Not one in the house, except the princess and myself,' said Curdie.
'I will not go to sleep,' said the king.
'That would be as bad as taking the poison,' said Curdie. 'No, no,
sire; you must show your confidence by leaving all the watching to me,
and doing all the sleeping Your Majesty can.'
The king smiled a contented smile, turned on his side, and was
presently fast asleep. Then Curdie persuaded the princess also to go
to sleep, and telling Lina to watch, went to the housemaid. He asked
her if she could inform him which of the council slept in the palace,
and show him their rooms. She knew every one of them, she said, and
took him the round of all their doors, telling him which slept in each
room. He then dismissed her, and returning to the king's chamber,
seated himself behind a curtain at the head of the bed, on the side
farthest from the king. He told Lina to get under the bed, and make no
noise.
About one o'clock the doctor came stealing in. He looked round for the
princess, and seeing no one, smiled with satisfaction as he approached
the wine where it stood under the lamp. Having partly filled a glass,
he took from his pocket a small phial, and filled up the glass from it.
The light fell upon his face from above, and Curdie saw the snake in it
plainly visible. He had never beheld such an evil countenance: the man
hated the king, and delighted in doing him wrong.
With the glass in his hand, he drew near the bed, set it down, and
began his usual rude rousing of His Majesty. Not at once succeeding,
he took a lancet from his pocket, and was parting its cover with an
involuntary hiss of hate between his closed teeth, when Curdie stooped
and whispered to Lina.
'Take him by the leg, Lina.' She darted noiselessly upon him. With a
face of horrible consternation, he gave his leg one tug to free it; the
next instant Curdie heard the one scrunch with which she crushed the
bone like a stick of celery. He tumbled on the floor with a yell.
'Drag him out, Lina,' said Curdie. Lina took him by the collar, and
dragged him out. Her master followed her to direct her, and they left
the doctor lying across the lord chamberlain's door, where he gave
another horrible yell, and fainted.
The king had waked at his first cry, and by the time Curdie re-entered
he had got at his sword where it hung from the centre of the tester,
had drawn it, and was trying to get out of bed. But when Curdie told
him all was well, he lay down again as quietly as a child comforted by
his mother from a troubled dream. Curdie went to the door to watch.
The doctor's yells had aroused many, but not one had yet ventured to
appear. Bells were rung violently, but none were answered; and in a
minute or two Curdie had what he was watching for. The door of the
lord chamberlain's room opened, and, pale with hideous terror, His
Lordship peeped out. Seeing no one, he advanced to step into the
corridor, and tumbled over the doctor. Curdie ran up, and held out his
hand. He received in it the claw of a bird of prey--vulture or eagle,
he could not tell which.
His Lordship, as soon as he was on his legs, taking him for one of the
pages abused him heartily for not coming sooner, and threatened him
with dismissal from the king's service for cowardice and neglect. He
began indeed what bade fair to be a sermon on the duties of a page, but
catching sight of the man who lay at his door, and seeing it was the
doctor, he fell upon Curdie afresh for standing there doing nothing,
and ordered him to fetch immediate assistance. Curdie left him, but
slipped into the King's chamber, closed and locked the door, and left
the rascals to look after each other. Ere long he heard hurrying
footsteps, and for a few minutes there was a great muffled tumult of
scuffling feet, low voices and deep groanings; then all was still again.
Irene slept through the whole--so confidently did she rest, knowing
Curdie was in her father's room watching over him.