palm, I will work the cure.”
_The Perfection Cream Is Rubbed into the Itching Palm_
The King held out his left hand as he passed, and I trotted along
beside him, and drawing from my pouch one of my little jars, I applied
to the King’s palm, with my fingers, a small portion of my salve,
rubbing it in as well as I could; and then I ran around to his other
side, and did the same for his other hand. It was rather difficult,
considering that I had to trot along beside him as he tripped back and
forth across the carpet.
“What, what, what! Bless my soul!” cried the King, stopping suddenly.
“It feels better!”
I bowed and smiled, and Buffo the Fool said, “Mad, old Fatchaps! Both
of you mad!”
“Speak when you’re spoken to!” said the King. “Who asked your opinion?
Pfoo! pfoo! I haven’t any breath left! Not another word out of you,
sir! I know when I’m cured! I’m no fool, I’m no fool!”
“Oh, no, not at all!” said the Fool.
“Here, you!” said the King. “Take this young man and his wife and feed
’em, and let ’em sleep in the palace. I’ll settle with ’em in the
morning, if the itching’s gone. I’m no fool.”
“Not my wife,--my sister,” said I, bowing.
“What do you say?” cried the King. “Oh, that’s different!”
He bowed before my sister, and kissed her hand very respectfully.
“Bless my soul! Beautiful as a moonbeam! What do you say? Where do you
come from, eh? The itching’s gone. But I’ll wait till morning. I’m no
fool. Be off with you, clown, and let ’em eat and sleep in the palace.
What do you say? He shall cure the whole city, and I’ll make ’em
give up half of all their dead leaves to him! In the morning, in the
morning! What do you say? Be off with you!”
We hastily left him, and as we passed down the hall we saw him poke his
head out of the door and heard him call:
“Ho! I’m cured! Where’s that confounded chamberlain? Send me the
chamberlain! What do you say? I’m cured!” And he banged the door shut
again.
That night we dined sumptuously and slept in gorgeous apartments in the
palace. In the morning, being once more conducted by Buffo to the King,
we found him in a transport of happiness. The cure was perfect. He
kissed my sister’s hand, and threw his arms about me, and cried:
“It’s yours! Half of my dead leaves, and I’ll make a Prince out of you!
Not a word! What do you say? Never woke up once last night! Get to work
and cure all my people. Where’s that confounded chamberlain? Get to
work, get to work!”
_Tush the Apothecary Takes the People in Hand_
The arrangements were soon made. I took my stand on the palace steps,
and all day long the people filed before me, and into each palm I
rubbed a little of my salve. It was a work of days, and all business
stopped until my task was done. At the end, the city was cured; never
were there in this world a people so beside themselves with joy.
In the square where I had first met the King’s Fool the King caused
to be thrown up, with five hundred pairs of willing hands, a vat of
hardened mud in blocks, and into this vat his servants poured for me
a good full half of all the dead orange leaves in his treasury, and
on top of these, from each of those whom I had cured, one-half of his
store of leaves; so that when all was done the vat was just half full.
I was rich; richer than the King himself; and my Perfection Cream was
all gone.
I hinted to the King that some kind of covering should be provided for
the vat, to protect my riches from the weather.
“What, what?” said he, his face growing a trifle purple. “There’s no
rain at this time of year! What do you say? All in good time! I can’t
do everything in a minute!”
Now it came to pass, as you may guess, that the King grew daily more
smitten with my sister’s beauty. Scarcely a day passed on which he did
not visit us in the splendid apartments in his palace which he had
given us for our own. His favors became more lavish as time went on;
they could have only one meaning. “You shall be Queen!” said I to my
sister, and she smiled knowingly.
We were expecting, one evening, a visit from the King, when the Fool
entered our apartment, and behind him came, instead of the King, the
King’s ugly brother. I was startled, for I had forgotten him completely.
He knelt beside my sister, and took her hand tenderly in his.
“Dear lady,” he said, “I do not blame you that you have neglected
your promise. I have stolen here at great risk to lay myself again at
your feet. Surely a loyal heart must weigh with you more than rank or
riches. Ah, dear lady, say that you will be mine!”
I confess that there was something about this young man which made me
like him better than before; but of course a match such as he proposed
was out of the question.
My sister shook her head and drew away her hand. “I cannot, I cannot,”
she said.
“Tell me,” he said, “do you think well of me--do you care for me a
little--do you think you can say you love me, ever so little?”
“I do! I do!” cried my sister, to my amazement, hiding her face in her
hands. “I loved you on the first day I saw you! I can’t help it! I do!”
“Ah, then,” said the young man, rising, while I on my part remained
speechless with astonishment, “what’s to hinder? You are mine!”
“No, no,” said my sister, weeping, “it can never be.”
“Is it because I am poor and friendless?”
My sister said never a word.
“Is it because you prize rank and wealth more than love?”
Still my sister said nothing.
The young man hesitated, and stooping to kiss her hand, he said, “I
have received my answer;” and with these words he strode mournfully to
the door. But she did not look up at him, and with a sigh of deep grief
he left us.
_Paravaine Has Made Her Choice_
“The wrong choice once more,” said the Fool, and he, too, went his way.
My sister had hardly dried her eyes when there came a knock upon the
door behind her, and the King entered. She did not turn round, and the
King tripped in silently on his toes, putting a finger roguishly to
his lips and shaking all over with mirth; and coming up behind her he
placed his two fat hands over her eyes, wagging his eyebrows up and
down at me.
“Guess who it is!” he cried, wheezing. “What do you say? It’s somebody
come a-wooing! Never mind who! Ha, ha, ha! Guess who it is, and
to-morrow you’ll be Queen! What do you say? Pouf! Pah! I’m all out of
breath. It’s somebody that wants you to be his Queen. Guess! The most
beautiful Queen in the whole--”
He stopped suddenly. The King’s Fool and his monkey had slipped into
the room behind him and were standing before my sister, and the dwarf
was holding up his mirror before my sister’s face.
“What, what, what!” cried the King in a rage, taking away his hands
from my sister’s eyes. “What do you mean? Out of my sight, Fool! Away!
Begone!”
The dwarf held the mirror higher, shaking with laughter the while, and
my sister gazed into it. I saw her shudder and turn pale, and then she
screamed and buried her face in her hands.
The King, staring likewise into the mirror, turned purple and remained
as if frozen with horror. He shook himself, and gave a choking gasp.
“What’s this?” he cried. “It’s the--what a-- Take it away. She’s an old
woman! She’s a witch! What a-- I’m no fool, it’s a trick, I knew it
all the time! Take her away! She’s an old woman. You can’t play tricks
on me, I won’t have it, I won’t stand it. She’s a witch! I’m going. I
won’t stay. It’s a trick. I’m no fool!”
With these words, puffing and wheezing, he trotted on his fat legs out
of the room.
“No marriage yet,” said the Fool, looking at me queerly, and he ran
after the King, pulling his monkey along with him.
_He Finds Himself Rubbing His Palms Together_
That night, as I stood before my mirror, undressing, and comforting
myself with the thought of all the magnificence I had acquired and
would acquire with my dead orange leaves, I found myself rubbing the
palm of my right hand with the fingers of my left. I was aware of a
slight itching in the palm.
At breakfast in the morning, I noticed that my sister, who was very
sober, would now and then scratch the palm of her right hand; but I
said nothing, and in the afternoon, without questioning her on the
subject of her love for the King’s brother, I prepared to visit the
King, to try if I could not bring him back to reason. I was ready to
leave, when my sister broke into my room, crying out frantically:
“I can’t stand it, I can’t stand it! The itching in my palms! It won’t
stop for a moment! I can’t sit still! It’s growing worse and worse! Oh,
brother, cure it, cure it, or I shall go mad!”
She walked up and down the room in a frenzy, rubbing her palms
together. I tried in vain to pacify her, and at length I left her and
betook myself to the King.
On my way the itching of the night before returned, and this time I
felt it in both my hands. I knew that my sister and myself, in common
with the King and all his subjects, had been handling the dead leaves
freely since I had worked the cure, and I began to be uneasy.
When I knocked at the King’s door the voice of the Fool said “Come in,”
and I found the King running with his tripping step up and down the
room, rubbing his hands, and beside him trotted the Fool and the monkey.
“Imbecile!” cried the King, without stopping for an instant. “You
shall die the death! A trick, a trick! And half of my dead leaves gone
for nothing! A death in boiling oil! What do you say? Don’t answer me!
My hands, my hands! Worse than before! You shall suffer, you shall
suffer! A slow death! Why don’t you speak? What are you going to do?”
“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed the Fool. “He’s been handling the dead leaves
again, and so have you all. It’ll be my turn soon! My turn soon!”
“Patience, your majesty,” said I, rubbing my hands. “I will go to work
at once and prepare more of my salve. Have no fear. I will cure you
instantly. I am off to my work.”
_He Cannot Find the Ingredients for Making the Salve_
“Pouf! Pah!” said the King, angrily, and I ran from the room, to find
the ingredients necessary for my salve. But alas, they were not to be
found. I sent everywhere; the city was scoured; but it was no use; I
was in despair. Such simples as could be found I gathered together, and
of these I made a new remedy,--far different from my old, but it was
the best I could do. I tried it on myself, and felt an almost instant
relief. I shouted with joy.
I returned to the King, and as I passed an open window in the great
hall I heard the muttering of many voices outside, and I saw a great
concourse of people in the palace grounds, all talking angrily, and all
rubbing their hands and dancing on their toes in anguish. They began
to shout my name, and I knew that if I should fall among them in their
present temper I should be lost.
The King was trotting up and down as before, and the dwarf and the
monkey were running along beside him.
“What, what?” he cried. “What now? No tricks! I’m no fool. What’s the
matter?”
“If I cure you,” said I, holding up my box of ointment, “I must have
the rest of your leaves; and from every one I cure I must have the rest
of his; it is only just.”
“Anything!” cried the King. “You can’t do it! It’s another trick! I’ll
give all the dead leaves in the city to anyone who can save me and my
people! It’s a trick! You can’t do it. What are you waiting for? Try
it! Oh, these hands! It’s no use! Hurry up!”
I seized his hand, and running beside him I rubbed into his palm a
little of my new ointment; and running around to his other side I did
the same for his other hand.
“See the madmen!” cried the Fool, clapping his hands in glee.
“By the beard of my uncle!” cried the King. “I feel better! It’s going!
It’s gone! It’s all over! I’m cured! Oh, wonderful young man, come to
my arms! What do you say? I knew you could do it all the time. I’m
cured!”
He grasped my arm and pulled me from the room, and down the stairway to
the front door. A great throng filled the grounds, from the door to the
gate; and commanding silence, the King announced in a loud voice that I
was ready with my cure, and that whoever wished to be cured should give
up the remainder of his dead leaves.
There was a moment’s hesitation, but the anguish of their affliction
was too great; the people whispered together, doubtless remarking that
they would soon get back their leaves in trade; and at any rate they
began to file before me, and my healing work commenced; but not before
I had applied my salve, in sight of all, to my sister’s palms, and
given her immediate relief.
All that day and the next and for several days the work continued, and
in each case the itching vanished at once; the city was cured again,
and my vat in the public square was filled to the brim, with all the
dead orange leaves that the people owned. The glory of my future was
beyond calculation; my sister, I resolved, should yet be Queen; and I
planned for myself such offices in the state as should give me power
even greater than the King’s.
When I awoke in my bed on the following morning, I found that I was
rubbing my hands.
I dressed hurriedly, and my sister came to me in tears. She was rubbing
her hands.
We hurried to the King. He was running up and down, rubbing his hands.
We fled from him and ran out upon the palace steps, not knowing where
next to go; and as we stood there, hesitating, the King’s brother
appeared before us, and spoke with excitement.
“Beloved!” he cried. “We love each other--what more is needed? Quick,
it is not yet too late! Say that you love me--let me hear it again!”
“Ah, yes, I do,” said my sister, and he threw his arm about her and
clasped her to his breast.
“Come! I will save you!” he cried. “There is time, if we hurry. Will
you come with me now?”
My sister drew back a little, still struggling within herself; and
while she hesitated, a commotion arose at the gate, and the young man
cried out, in a voice full of despair:
“It is too late, too late!”
_Tush and His Sister are Seized by the Angry Crowd_
At the gate a throng of people were pressing in with angry shouts. They
made toward us, dancing and rubbing their hands. They surrounded us;
they crowded upon us to suffocation; the young man and myself tried
in vain to shield my sister; angry hands were laid upon her and upon
myself, and we were hustled away toward the gate.
“Give us back our leaves! Kill them both! To the square!” shouted the
mob; and thrusting the King’s brother aside they pulled and pushed us
to the public square, and halted us beneath the vat which contained all
my wealth.
A sudden outcry, followed by silence, drew my attention upward. There
above us, on the rim of the vat, stood the King’s Fool. He held a
lighted torch aloft in his hand.
“Madmen!” he cried. “I am ready to cure you! All alone! Speak! Shall I
destroy the leaves?”
“No, no!” shouted the crowd. “Stop him! Stop him!”
“If you fire the leaves, we will kill these two!” shouted one of our
captors.
“Oh!” said my sister at my side, pale with terror. “What shall we do?
Stop him! If the genie would only come and help us! I wish the genie
were here to help us!”
“The time has come!” cried the Fool. “I must save you! Why will you all
be mad? I must save you from your madness! In with the torch!”
He faced about toward the center of the vat, and swung his torch as
if about to toss it in; but at that instant a great wind swept across
the square with a roar, such a blast as I had never in my life known
before, and the King’s Fool tottered in it for a moment, and his torch
went out; and then, clutching at the air, he was blown headlong to the
ground in a heap.
“The whirlwind! The whirlwind!” shouted the crowd in terror. “Fly! Fly
for your lives!”
Far off across the housetops appeared a yellow cloud, and a saffron
gloom overspread the city. From the cloud to the ground revolved a
yellow funnel, as of dust-laden wind; and it was coming toward us with
the speed of lightning.
The crowd dispersed madly, trampling one another, shrieking and
cursing, and in a twinkling they were gone. I seized my sister and
dragged her to the street corner, where I opened one half of a cellar
door and plunged down with her, closing the door over us, but peeping
out through a crack. We were just in time.
_The Genie in the Whirlwind_
The whirling funnel of wind and dust swept over the square; and in the
forefront of it, at a great height, flew the genie, his great mouth
open, and darts of fire flickering around his face.
The square was empty, save for the crumpled body of the King’s Fool,
lying motionless beside the vat of dead leaves; and as I gazed at him
where he lay, I saw, moving toward him across the bare pavement, the
humped figure of his little monkey.
The genie, far above, kept just ahead of the whirlwind; the yellow
funnel whirled after him directly across the vat and covered it and
passed; and as it passed, all the dead leaves surged up into it in a
furious gale, so that it was darkened with them; and the next moment
the whirlwind was gone, and the square lay quiet in the sunshine.
“Come, Paravaine!” said I, and pulled my sister forth across the square.
We came to the base of the vat, and on the ground beside it, left
there untouched by the storm, lay the King’s Fool on his side, graver
than he had ever been in his life; and huddled against his breast sat
his monkey, shivering, and looking up at us with eyes that seemed to
reproach us.
We hurried toward the city gate. Many houses were in ruins, and the
streets were strewn with rubbish. People were running busily about,
gazing intently at the ground, and now and then one would stoop and
pick up something. I saw what it was they were doing; they were
searching for dead leaves, scattered by the whirlwind.
“I can’t go!” said my sister, weeping. “I must see him first! Oh, my
love, my love!”
“Too late now!” I cried. “Too late, too late!”
I pulled her onward, knowing that death awaited us in that city; and
we came to the plot of grass where we had seen the sacred tree. It was
gone, and in the place where it had been was only a gaping hole. The
whirlwind had passed that way. On the ground beside the hole lay the
panther, its head on its paws. It watched us with sleepy eyes as we
fled by.
In a moment we had reached the city gate and passed out. The Guardian
was standing there, his face clouded with a frown, and his scimitar
raised.
“Why do you flee?” said he.
“From the wrath of the people!” I cried. “Let us pass!”
“You cannot pass,” said he. His scimitar glittered in the sun.
“But we repent! We repent!” cried my sister.
“Too late, too late!” said the Guardian. “See!”
He pointed upward, and afar off in the sky appeared a black speck,
speeding toward us.
“The genie!” I cried; and I had no sooner said it, than the earth
trembled, and before us on the ground towered the genie, breathing fire.
“Save us from him!” I cried, turning to the Guardian, but he was gone.
We were alone with the genie.
_The Pulling Off of the Genie’s Ring_
“Off with the ring! That will send him away!” I cried to my sister,
and she tugged at the ring on her forefinger, to pull it off; but it
came unwillingly; and as she pulled, her finger lengthened; she tugged
harder, and as the ring came her finger stretched out longer and
longer; and when the ring was off and dropped on the ground, the first
finger of her right hand was more than a foot long,--a black, stiff
rod, hooked at the end like a poker.
[Illustration: The genie swung him back and forth and tossed him out to
sea]
The genie stooped, and gathered me under his right arm and my sister
under his left; and giving a stamp upon the ground which shook the
earth he mounted into the air....
Far out over the Great Sea, as the sun was setting, the genie drew
downward toward an island; and on a bluff of this island, overlooking
a cove in which fishing boats lay moored, he alighted and set us on
our feet. Over my sister’s head and back he passed his hand, speaking
strange words in his throat. She shriveled before my eyes; her face
became old and wrinkled and her body bent; and before I could speak
she was the hideous creature I had seen in the Fool’s glass, with a
forefinger like the poker of a ragpicker.
“Paravaine!” I cried; but the genie turned her away toward a village
which showed itself at the back of the cove, and sent her off in that
direction; and when she had gone, he picked me up in his mighty hands,
and carrying me to the further edge of the bluff where it looked down
on the rolling surf, he swung me back and forth three or four times and
tossed me out to sea.
I sank into the depths; I rose to the surface; and as my head came up
I looked for the genie. Far up in the evening sky flew what seemed a
tiny, black arrow. I cried aloud; and instead of a shriek there came
from my throat a bark. It was the bark of a seal.
[Illustration]
THE SIXTH NIGHT
THE ENCHANTED HIGHWAYMAN
_Mortimer the Executioner, very grand and uncomfortable in his new
suit, placed a chair for the Queen before Solario’s worktable, and the
old tailor having seated himself cross-legged on the table, the entire
company sat down in a row, facing him._
_There were first the Executioner, with the tiny Encourager on his
shoulder; then Bodkin; then Bojohn; then his mother, the Princess
Dorobel, and his father, Prince Bilbo; and last, his grandmother, the
Queen._
_“Now then,” said Bojohn, “I hope we’re going to hear the story of
Montesango’s Cave at last.”_
_“If it please your majesty,” began Solario, addressing the
Queen,--but at this moment there came a loud knock at the door._
_Mortimer the Executioner hastened to open it, and there in the doorway
stood the King himself. Solario sprang down from his table, and all the
others rose._
_“Ah! your majesty!” cried Solario, bowing profoundly. “This is indeed
an honor!”_
_“I was told I would find you here,” said the King. “It seems that my
entire family deserts me in the evening, and I am obliged to climb the
worst stairs in the castle to-- But of course if you find my society
too--”_
_“My dear!” said the Queen. “We have been listening to Solario’s
stories, and you were so taken up with your chess that we thought you
wouldn’t care to--”_
_“Why not?” said the King. “But of course if you don’t want me to hear
the stories, I’ll--”_
_“Sit down, grandfather!” cried Bojohn. “He’s just going to begin.”_
_“Do sit down, my dear,” said the Queen. “Don’t you remember the story
he told us the first night?”_
_“Hum! Ha! I’m all out of breath with those plaguey stairs. Something
about a button, wasn’t it?”_
_“Perhaps,” said Prince Bilbo, “he’ll tell us to-night how the magic
doublet came to be--”_
_“Well,” said the King, “if it isn’t a long story-- Is it a long
story?”_
_“No, no, your majesty,” said Solario, bowing again, “it is quite
short.”_
_“Hum!” said the King. “If you’re sure it’s not a long story--Why
don’t you begin?” and he sat down in the Executioner’s chair._
_Solario took his place cross-legged on the table again, and the others
resumed their seats before him,--all except the Executioner, who stood,
with the Encourager on his shoulder, behind the King._
_“My dear,” said the Queen, “did you give the orders for locking the
castle for the night?”_
_“I believe I usually attend to that,” said the King. “Solario,
proceed.”_
_“If it is your pleasure,” said Solario, fingering his shears, “I will
now relate to you the story concerning the magic doublet, as it was
told to the Black Prince by his father the King of Wen, and by the
Black Prince to me. The King of Wen, having directed his son regarding
his mission to the City of Oogh, placed the doublet in his son’s left
hand, and thus commenced what I may call_
“THE STORY OF THE ENCHANTED HIGHWAYMAN.”
_“I thought,” interrupted Bojohn, “you were going to tell us the story
of the magic doublet.”_
_“I am about to do so,” said Solario. “As I was saying, the King of
Wen, placing the magic doublet in his son’s left hand, thus commenced_
“THE STORY OF THE ENCHANTED HIGHWAYMAN.”
When I was a young man (said the King of Wen), I left my father’s
castle one morning for a day’s hunting in the forest. Late in the
afternoon it chanced that I had wandered away from my attendants, and
being warm and weary I threw myself down upon the moss to rest. I had
lain there but a moment when I saw, not far off among the trees, a fine
buck, the only game I had come upon that day. I crept cautiously in his
direction, and soon came within easy bowshot of him; but just as I was
fitting my arrow to the string he tossed his head and trotted off into
the forest and disappeared.
I made off after him as fast as I could, marking his trail by a
broken branch here and there and an occasional hoof-print in the damp
earth, and presently I found myself deep in a considerable thicket of
underwood, and from this thicket I came out, to my surprise, upon a
forest road.