I
Once upon a time there was a little soldier who had just come back from
the war. He was a brave little fellow, but he had lost neither arms nor
legs in battle. Still, the fighting was ended and the army disbanded, so
he had to return to the village where he was born.
Now the soldier’s name was really John, but for some reason or other his
friends always called him the Kinglet; why, no one ever knew, but so it
was.
As he had no father or mother to welcome him home, he did not hurry
himself, but went quietly along, his knapsack on his back and his sword
by his side, when suddenly one evening he was seized with a wish to
light his pipe. He felt for his match-box to strike a light, but to his
great disgust he found he had lost it.
He had only gone about a stone’s throw after making this discovery when
he noticed a light shining through the trees. He went towards it, and
perceived before him an old castle, with the door standing open.
The little soldier entered the courtyard, and, peeping through a window,
saw a large fire blazing at the end of a low hall. He put his pipe in
his pocket and knocked gently, saying politely:
‘Would you give me a light?’
But he got no answer.
After waiting for a moment John knocked again, this time more loudly.
There was still no reply.
He raised the latch and entered; the hall was empty.
The little soldier made straight for the fireplace, seized the tongs,
and was stooping down to look for a nice red hot coal with which to
light his pipe, when clic! something went, like a spring giving way,
and in the very midst of the flames an enormous serpent reared itself up
close to his face.
And what was more strange still, this serpent had the head of a woman.
At such an unexpected sight many men would have turned and run for
their lives; but the little soldier, though he was so small, had a true
soldier’s heart. He only made one step backwards, and grasped the hilt
of his sword.
‘Don’t unsheath it,’ said the serpent. ‘I have been waiting for you, as
it is you who must deliver me.’
‘Who are you?’
‘My name is Ludovine, and I am the daughter of the King of the Low
Countries. Deliver me, and I will marry you and make you happy for ever
after.’
Now, some people might not have liked the notion of being made happy by
a serpent with the head of a woman, but the Kinglet had no such fears.
And, besides, he felt the fascination of Ludovine’s eyes, which looked
at him as a snake looks at a little bird. They were beautiful green
eyes, not round like those of a cat, but long and almond-shaped, and
they shone with a strange light, and the golden hair which floated round
them seemed all the brighter for their lustre. The face had the beauty
of an angel, though the body was only that of a serpent.
‘What must I do?’ asked the Kinglet.
‘Open that door. You will find yourself in a gallery with a room at the
end just like this. Cross that, and you will see a closet, out of which
you must take a tunic, and bring it back to me.’
The little soldier boldly prepared to do as he was told. He crossed the
gallery in safety, but when he reached the room he saw by the light
of the stars eight hands on a level with his face, which threatened to
strike him. And, turn his eyes which way he would, he could discover no
bodies belonging to them.
He lowered his head and rushed forward amidst a storm of blows, which he
returned with his fists. When he got to the closet, he opened it, took
down the tunic, and brought it to the first room.
‘Here it is,’ he panted, rather out of breath.
‘Clic!’ once more the flames parted. Ludovine was a woman down to her
waist. She took the tunic and put it on.
It was a magnificent tunic of orange velvet, embroidered in pearls, but
the pearls were not so white as her own neck.
‘That is not all,’ she said. ‘Go to the gallery, take the staircase
which is on the left, and in the second room on the first story you will
find another closet with my skirt. Bring this to me.’
The Kinglet did as he was told, but in entering the room he saw,
instead of merely hands, eight arms, each holding an enormous stick. He
instantly unsheathed his sword and cut his way through with such vigour
that he hardly received a scratch.
He brought back the skirt, which was made of silk as blue as the skies
of Spain.
‘Here it is,’ said John, as the serpent appeared. She was now a woman as
far as her knees.
‘I only want my shoes and stockings now,’ she said. ‘Go and get them
from the closet which is on the second story.’
The little soldier departed, and found himself in the presence of eight
goblins armed with hammers, and flames darting from their eyes. This
time he stopped short at the threshold. ‘My sword is no use,’ he thought
to himself; ‘these wretches will break it like glass, and if I can’t
think of anything else, I am a dead man.’ At this moment his eyes fell
on the door, which was made of oak, thick and heavy. He wrenched it
off its hinges and held it over his head, and then went straight at the
goblins, whom he crushed beneath it. After that he took the shoes and
stockings out of the closet and brought them to Ludovine, who, directly
she had put them on, became a woman all over.
When she was quite dressed in her white silk stockings and little blue
slippers dotted over with carbuncles, she said to her deliverer, ‘Now
you must go away, and never come back here, whatever happens. Here is a
purse with two hundred ducats. Sleep to-night at the inn which is at the
edge of the wood, and awake early in the morning: for at nine o’clock
I shall pass the door, and shall take you up in my carriage.’ ‘Why
shouldn’t we go now?’ asked the little soldier. ‘Because the time has
not yet come,’ said the Princess. ‘But first you may drink my health in
this glass of wine,’ and as she spoke she filled a crystal goblet with a
liquid that looked like melted gold.
John drank, then lit his pipe and went out.