MY OWN FAIRY BOOK
 

 

“So the two went into the gardens together, and talked about a
number of things.”

Page 89.
My Own Fairy Book,

namely certain Chronicles of
Pantouflia, as notably the Ad-
ventures of Prigio, Prince of
that country, and of his son,
Ricardo, with an Excerpt from
the Annals of Scotland, as touch-
ing Ker of Fairnilee, his sojourn
with the Queen of Faery; the
whole written by Andrew Lang
and adorned by Gordon Browne,
T. Scott, and E. A. Lemann.

Bristol : 18 New York:
Arrowsmith. 95° Longmans, Green & Co.
 
Chap.

II.
Ill.

Iv.

VI.
Vil.
VIII.

Ix.

XII.
XIII.

XIV.

XV.

XVI.

XVII.

MY OWN FAIRY BOOK,

CONTENTS.

To Children . : ‘

Prince Pvigio.

HOW THE FAIRIES WERE NOT INVITED TO COURT
PRINCE PRIGIO AND HIS FAMILY . . .
ABOUT THE FIREDRAKE . : . . .
HOW PRINCE PRIGIO WAS DESERTED BY EVERYBODY
WHAT PRINCE PRIGIO FOUND IN THE GARRET .
WHAT HAPPENED TO PRINCE PRIGIO IN TOWN
THE PRINCE FALLS IN LOVE . : . .
THE PRINCE Is PUZZLED . . . .
THE PRINCE AND THE FIREDRAKE . :
THE PRINCE AND THE REMORA . . . .
THE BATTLE . a . . . . .
A TERRIBLE MISFORTUNE . : .
SURPRISES

THE KING EXPLAINS . : . : : .
THE KING’S CHEQUE

A MELANCHOLY CHAPTER . .

THE BLACK CAT AND THE BRETHREN

XVIII. THE VERY LAST . . : . .

Page

10
14
23
28
30
38
43

51
54
60
67
70
77
83
89
99
 

Vill Contents.
Prince ‘Ricardo,

Chap. Page
INTRODUCTORY . : 3 107
I., THE TROUBLES OF KING PRIGIO ; 109
II, PRINCESS JAQUELINE DRINKS THE MOON I20
III. THE ADVENTURE OF THE SHOPKEEPERS 132
IV. TWO LECTURES . ‘ z ; : 142
V. PRINCE RICARDO CROSSES THE PATH OF HISTORY 154
VI. RICARDO’S REPENTANCE i I7I
VII. PRINCE RICARDO AND AN OLD ENEMY 3 180

VIII. THE GIANT WHO DOES NOT KNOW WHEN HE HAS
HAD ENOUGH . : : ‘ , : IQ5
IX. PRIGIO HAS AN IDEA : : ; : 207
X. THE END. F é 220

The Gold of Fairnilec.

I. THE OLD HOUSE ‘ : ‘ é i 237
II. HOW RANDAL’S FATHER CAME HOME , 239
III. HOW JEAN WAS BROUGHT TO FAIRNILEE 245
IV. RANDAL AND JEAN : A : : : 251
Vv. THE GOOD FOLK . 5 ‘i : f 259
VI, THE WISHING WELL 263
VII. WHERE IS RANDAL? . : : ‘ 270
VIII. THE ILL YEARS . 3 277
IX. THE WHITE ROSES : i : 284
X. OUT OF FAIRYLAND. : i 5 : 289
XI. THE FAIRY BOTTLE. : ‘ : 296
XII. AT THE CATRAIL : iy : : . 300

XIII.

THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE . .

304
TO CHILDREN.

Tue Author of this book is also the Editor of
the Blue, Red, Green, and Yellow Fairy Books.
He has always felt rather an impostor,
because so many children seem to think that
he made up these books out of his own head.
Now he only picked up a great many old
fairy tales, told in French, German, Greek,
Chinese, Red Indian, Russian, and other
languages, and .had them translated and
printed, with pictures. He is glad that
children like them, but he must confess
that they should be grateful to old forgotten
people, long ago, who first invented these
tales, and who knew more about fairies than
we can hope to do.

My Own Fairy Book, which you now have
x To Children.

 

in your hands, was made up altogether out of
his own head by the Author, of course with
the help of the Historical Papers in the
kingdom of Pantouflia. About that ancient
kingdom very little is known. The natives
speak German; but the Royal Family, as
usual, was of foreign origin. Just as England
has had Norman, Scottish, and, at present, a
line of German monarchs, so the kings of
Pantouflia are descended from an old Greek
family, the Hypnotidz, who came to Pantou-
fla during the Crusades. They wanted,
they explained, not to be troubled with the
Crusades, which they thought very injudicious
and tiresome. The Crest of the regal house
is a Dormouse, dormant, proper, on a field
vert, and the Motto, when translated out of
the original Greek, means, Anything for a
Quiet Life.

It may surprise the young reader that

princes like Prigio and Ricardo, whose feet -
To Children. Xl

 

were ever in the stirrup, and whose lances were
always in rest, should have descended from
the family of the Hypnotide, who were
remarkably lazy and peaceful. But these
heroes doubtless inherited the spirit of their
great -ancestress, whose story is necessary to
be known. On leaving his native realm
during the Crusades, in search of some
secure asylum, the founder of the Pantouflian
monarchy landed in the island of Cyprus,
where, during the noon-tide heat, he lay down
to sleep in a cave. Now in this cave dwelt
a dragon of enormous size and unamiable
character. What was the horror of the exiled
prince when he was aroused from slumber
by the fiery breath of the dragon, and felt its
scaly coils about him !

‘“‘Oh, hang your practical jokes!” exclaimed
the prince, imagining that some of his courtiers
were playing a prank on him.

“Do you call this a joke?” asked the
Xil To Children.

 

dragon, twisting its forked tail into a line with
his royal highness’s eye.

“Do take that thing away,” said the*prince,
‘‘and let a man have his nap peacefully.’

‘Kiss me!” cried the dragon, which had
already devoured many gallant knights for
declining to kiss it.

“Give you a kiss,” murmured the prince;
“oh, certainly, if that’s all! Anything for a
quiet life.”

So saying, he kissed the dragon, which
instantly became a most beautiful princess ;
for she had lain enchanted as a dragon, by a
wicked magician, till somebody should be bold
enough to kiss her.

‘My love! my hero! my lord! how long
I have waited for thee ; and now I am eternally
thine own!”

So murmured, in the most affectionate
accents, the Lady Dragonissa, as she was now
called.
To Children. Xill

 

Though wedded to a bachelor life, the
prince was much too well-bred to make any
remonstrance.

The Lady Dragonissa, a female of ex-
traordinary spirit, energy, and ambition,
took command of him and of his followers,
conducted them up the Danube, seized a
principality whose lord had gone crusading,
set her husband on the throne, and became in
course of time the mother of a little prince,
who, again, was great, great, great, great-
grandfather of our Prince Prigio.

From this adventurous Lady Dragonissa,
Prince Prigio derived his character for gal-
lantry. But her husband, it is said, was often
heard to remark, by a slight change of his
family motto:

‘“ Anything for a Quiet Wife!”

You now know as much as the Author
does of the early history of Pantouflia.

As to the story called The Gold of Fairnilee,
XIV To Children. —

 

such adventures were extremely common in
Scotland long ago, as may be read in many of
the works of Sir Walter Scott and of the
learned in general. Indeed, Fairnilee is the
very place where the fairy queen appointed to
meet her lover, Thomas the Rhymer.

With these explanations, the Author leaves
to the judgment of young readers his Own
Fairy Book.
PRINCE PRIGIO
PRINCE PRIGIO

Is

Dedicated
TO

ALMA
THYRA
EDITH
ROSALIND
NORNA
CECILY

AND VIOLET
 

CHAPTER I.

How the Fairtes were not Invited to -Gourt.

NCE upon'a-time there reigned in
jy Pantouflia a king and a queen. With
» almost everything else to make them

happy, they wanted one thing: they
7 had no children. This vexed the king:

even more than the. queen, who. was’
very clever and learned, and who had hated
dolls when she was a child. . However, she too,
in spite of all the books she read and all the
pictures she--painted, would have been glad
enough to be the mother of a little prince. The
king was anxious to consult the fairies, but the
queen would not hear of sucha thing... She did

 

2*
6 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

not believe in fairies: she said that they had
never existed; and that she maintained, though
The History of the Royal Family was full of
chapters about nothing else.

Well, at long and at last they had a little
boy, who was generally regarded as the finest
baby that had ever been seen. Even her
majesty: herself remarked that, though she
could never believe all the courtiers told her,
yet he certainly was a fine child—a very fine
child.

Now, the time drew near for the christening
party, and the king and queen were sitting at
breakfast in their summer parlour talking over
it. Itwasa splendid room, hung with portraits.
of the royal ancestors. There was Cinderella, the
grandmother of the reigning monarch, with her
little foot in her glass slipper thrust out before
her. There was the Marquis de Carabas, who,
as everyone knows, was raised to the throne as.
prince consort after his marriage with the
daughter of the king of the period. On the
arm of the throne was seated his celebrated
cat, wearing boots. There, too, was a portrait
of a beautiful lady, sound asleep: this was.
Madame La Belle au Bois-dormant, also an
ancestress of the royal family. Many other .
pictures of celebrated persons were hanging
on the walls.

“You have asked all the right people, my
dear?” said oe king.
PRINCE PRIGIO. 7

 

«Everyone who should be asked,” answered
the queen.

‘People are so touchy on these occasions,”
said his majesty. ‘“‘ You have not forgotten any
of our aunts?”

“‘No; the old cats!” replied the queen ;. for
the king’s aunts were old-fashioned, and did not
approve of her, and she knew it.

“‘ They are very kind old ladies in their way,”
said the king; ‘‘and were nice to me when I
was a boy.”

Then he waited a little, and remarked :

“The fairies, of course, you have invited?
It has always been usual, in our family, on an
occasion like this; and I think we have neglected
them a little of late.”

“How can you be so absurd?” cried the
queen. ‘‘ How often must I tell you that there
are no fairies? And even if there were—but,
no matter; pray let us drop the subject.”

‘They are very old friends of our family, my
dear, that’s all,” said the king timidly. ‘‘ Often
and often they have been godmothers to us.
One, in particular, was most kind and most
serviceable to Cinderella I., my own grand-
mother.”

“Your grandmother!” interrupted her ma-
jesty. ‘“‘Fiddle-de-dee! If anyone puts such
nonsense into the head of my little Prigio a

But here the baby was brought in by the
nurse, and the queen almost devoured it with

 
8 PRINCE PRIGIO.

‘kisses. And so the fairies were not invited!
It was an extraordinary thing, but none of the
‘nobles could come to the christening party
when they learned that the fairies had not been
asked. Some were abroad; several were ill; a
few: were in prison among the Saracens; others
were captives in the dens of ogres. The end of
it was that the king and queen had to sit down
alone, one at each end of a very long table,
arrayed with plates and glasses for a hundred
guests —for a hundred guests who never
came!

“Any soup, my dear?” shouted the king,
through a speaking-trumpet ; when, suddenly,
the air was filled with a sound like the rustling
of the wings of birds.

Flitter, flitter, flutter, went the noise; and
when the queen looked up, lo and behold! on
every seat was a lovely fairy, dressed in green,
each with a most interesting-looking parcel in her
hand. Don’t you like opening parcels? The
king did, and he was most friendly and polite
to the fairies. But the queen, though she saw
them distinctly, took no notice of them. “You
see, she did not believe in fairies, nor in her
own eyes, when she saw them. So she talked
across the fairies to the king, just as if they
had not been there; but the king behaved as
politely as if they were Cece of course,
they were.

When dinner was over, and when the nurse
PRINCE PRIGIO. ‘o

had brought in the baby, all the fairies gave
him the most magnificent presents. One offered
a purse which could never be empty; and onea
pair of seven-leagued boots; and another a cap
of darkness, that nobody might see the prince
when he put it on; and another a wishing-cap;
and another a carpet, on which, when he sat,
he was carried wherever he wished to find
himself. Another made him beautiful for
ever; and another, brave; and another; lucky:
but the last fairy of all, a cross old thing,
crept up and said, “‘ My child, you shall be too
clever!”
This fairy’s gift would have pleased the queen,
if she had believed in it, more than anything
else, because she was so clever herself. But
she took no notice at all; and the fairies went
each to her own country, and none of them
stayed there at the palace, where nobody be-
lieved in them, except the king, a little. But
the queen tossed all their nice boots and caps,
carpets, purses, swords, and all, away into a
dark lumber-room; for, of course, she thought
that they were all nonsense, and merely old rub-
bish out of books, or pantomime “‘ properties.”
PREFACE.

In compiling the following History from the
Archives of Pantouflia, the Editor has in-
curred several obligations to the Learned. ©
The Return of Benson (chapter x11.) is the
fruit of the research of the late Mr. ALLEN
QuaTERMAIN, while the final wish of Prince
Prigio was suggested by the invention or

erudition of a Lady.

A study of the Fivedrake in South Africa—
where he is called the Nanaboulélé, a diffi-
cult word—has been published in French
(translated from the Basuto language) by :
M. Pau S&BILLOT, in the Revue des Tradi-
tione Populaires. For the Remora, the Editor
is indebted to the Voyage a& la Lune of

M. Cyrano DE BERGERAC.
 

 
10 PRINCE PRIGIO.

CHAPTER II.
Prince Prigio and bis Familp.

\ 6 ELL, the little prince grew up. I think
Wy I’ve told you that his name was Prigio
\§ —did I not ? Well, that was his name.
* Youcannot think how clever he was. He
argued with

his nurse as

soon as he could
speak, which was
very soon. He
argued that he did
not like to be
washed, because
the soap got into
his eyes. How-
ever, when he was
told all about the
pores of the skin,
and how they
could’ not be
healthy if he was
not washed, he at once ceased to resist, for
he was very reasonable. He argued with his
father that he did not see why there should
be kings who were rich, while beggars were

    
PRINCE PRIGIO. Il

 

poor; and why the king—who was a little
greedy—should have poached. eggs and plum-
cake at afternoon tea, while many other persons
went without dinner. The king was so sur-
prised and hurt at these remarks that he boxed
the prince’s ears, saying, ‘‘I’ll teach you to be
too clever, my lad.” Then he remembered the
awful curse of the oldest fairy, and was sorry for
the rudeness of the queen. And when the prince,
after having his ears boxed, said that “‘ force was
no argument,” the king went away in a rage.

Indeed, I cannot tell you how the prince
was hated by all! He would go down into
the kitchen, and show the cook how to make
soup. He would visit the poor people’s cot-
tage, and teach them how to make the beds,
and how to make plum pudding out of turnip-
tops, and venison cutlets out of rusty bacon.
He showed the fencing-master how to fence,
and the professional cricketer how to bowl, and
instructed the rat-catcher in breeding terriers.
He set sums to the Chancellor of the Ex-
chequer, and assured the Astronomer Royal
that the sun does not go round the earth—
which, for my part, I believe it does. The
young ladies of the court disliked dancing with
him, in spite of his good looks, because he was
always asking, “‘Have you read this?” and
*“ Have you read that ?”—and when they said
they hadn’t, he sneered; and when they said
they had, he found them out.
12 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

‘ He found out all his tutors and masters in the’
same horrid way; correcting the accent of his
French teacher, and trying to get his German
tutor not to eat peas with his knife. He also
endeavoured to teach the queen-dowager, his
grandmother, an art with which she had long
been perfectly familiar! In fact, he knew
everything better than anybody else; and the

 

worst of it was that he did: and he never was
‘in the wrong, and he always said, ‘‘ Didn’t I
tell you so?” And, what was more, he had!
As time went on, Prince’ Prigio had two
younger brothers, whom everybody liked.
They were not a bit ¢lever, but jolly. Prince
Alphonso, the third son, was round, fat, good-
PRINCE PRIGIO. 13.

humoured, and as brave as a lion. Prince
Enrico, the second, was tall, thin, and a little
sad, but never too clever. Both were in love
with two of their own cousins (with the ap-
proval of their dear parents); and all the
world said, “‘What nice, unaffected princes.
they are!” But Prigio nearly got the country
into several wars by being too clever for the
foreign ambassadors. Now, as Pantouflia was.
a rich, lazy country, which hated fighting, this
was very unpleasant, and did not make people
love Prince Prigio any better.
I4 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

CHAPTER III.

cAbout the Firedrake.

F all the people who did not like Prigio,
} his own dear papa, King Grognio, dis-
liked him most. For the king knew he
was not clever himself. When he was
in the counting-house, counting out his
money, and when he happened to say,
** Sixteen shillings and fourteen and twopence
are three pounds, fifteen,” it made him wild to
hear Prigio whisper, ‘‘ One pound, ten and two-
pence,”’—which, of course, it is. And the king
was afraid that Prigio would conspire, and get
made king himself—which was the last thing
Prigio really wanted. He much preferred to
idle about, and know everything without seem-
ing to take any trouble.

Well, the king thought and thought. How
was he to get Prigio out of the way, and make
Enrico or Alphonso his successor? He read
in books about it; and all the books showed
that, if a king sent his three sons to do anything,
it was always the youngest who did it, and got
the crown. And he wished he had the chance.
Well, it arrived at last.

 
PRINCE PRIGIO. 15

 

There was a very hot summer! It began to
be hot in March. All the rivers were dried up.
The grass did not grow. The corn did not
grow. The
thermom-
eters ex-
ploded with
heat. The
barometers
stood at
SET Farr.
The people
were much
distressed,
and came
and _ broke
the palace win-
dows—as they
usually do when
things go wrong.
in Pantouflia.

The king con-
sulted the learned
men about the
Court, who told him that probably a

   
 

FIREDRAKE

was in the neighbourhood. :

Now, the Firedrake is a beast, or bird, about
the bigness of an elephant. Its body is made
of iron, and it is always red-hot.. A more ter-
16 -PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

ible and cruel beast cannot be imagined; for,
if you go near it, you are at once broiled. by
the Firedrake.

But the king was not ill- pleased: « for,”
thought he, ‘‘of course my three-sons must
go after the brute, the eldest first; and, as
usual, it will kill the first two, and be beaten
by the youngest. It is a little hard on Enrico,
poor boy; but anything to get rid of that
Prigio!”

Then the king went to Prigio, and said that
his country was in danger, and that he was
‘determined to leave the crown to whichever of
them would bring him the horns (for it has
horns) and tail of the Firedrake.

“It is an awkward brute to tackle,” the king
said, “‘but you are the oldest, my lad; go where
glory waits you! Put on your armour, and be
‘off with you!”

This the king said, hoping that either the
Firedrake would roast Prince, Prigio alive
(which he could easily do, as I have said; for
he is all over as hot as a red-hot poker), or that,
if the prince succeeded, at least his county,
would be freed from the monster.

But the prince, who was lying on the sofa
doing sums in compound division, for fun, said
in the politest way:

“Thanks to the education your majesty has
given me,'I have learned that the: Firedrake,
like the siren, the fairy, and so forth, is a fabu-
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

      

See Ate MAN

N° BE off Wit You !

| “PUT on your ARMOUR A

CLS.
18 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

lous animal which does not exist. But even
granting, for the sake of argument, that there
-is a Firedrake, your majesty is well aware that
there is no kind of use in sending me. It is
always the eldest son who goes out first, and
comes to grief on these occasions, and it is
always the third son that succeeds. Send
Alphonso” (this was the youngest brother),
“and he will do the trick at once. At least, if
he fails, it will be most unusual, and Enrico
can try his luck.”

Then he went back to his arithmetic and his
slate, and the king had to send for Prince
Alphonso and Prince Enrico. They both came
in very warm; for they had been whipping tops,
and the day was unusually hot.

“Look here,” said the king, “just you two
younger ones look at Prigio! You see how hot
it is, and how coolly he takes it, and the country
suffering; and all on account of a Firedrake,
you know, which has apparently built his
nest not far off. Well, I have asked that
lout of a brother of yours to kill it, and he
says es

‘*That he does not believe in Firedrakes,”
interrupted Prigio. ‘‘The weather’s warm
enough without going out hunting!” :

‘* Not believe in Firedrakes !’’ cried Alphonso.
‘I wonder what you do believein! Just let me
get at the creature!” for he was as brave asa
lion. ‘Hi! Page, my chain-armour, helmet,

 
PRINCE PRIGIO. Ig

 

lance, and buckler! A Molinda! A Molinda!”
which was his war-cry.

The page ran to get the armour; but it
was so uncommonly hot that he
dropped it, and put his fingers
in his mouth, crying!

“You had better put on flan-
nels, Alphonso, for this kind of
work,” said Prigio. “And if I
were you, I’d take a light
garden-engine, full of water, to
squirt at the enemy.” $

“Happy thought!” said Sh
Alphonso. ‘I will!” And off
he went, kissed his dear Molinda,
bade her keep a lot of dances for him (there
was to be a dance when he had killed the
Firedrake), and then he rushed to the field!

But he never came back any more!

Everyone wept bitterly—everyone but Prince
Prigio ; for he thought it was a practical joke,
and said that Alphonso had taken the oppor-
tunity to start off on his travels and see the
world.

“There is some dreadful mistake, sir,’ said
Prigio to the king. ‘‘You know as well as
I do that the youngest son has always suc-
ceeded, up to now. But I entertain great
hopes of Enrico!”

And he grinned; for he fancied it was all
nonsense, and that there were no Firedrakes.

3

 
20 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

~ Enrico was present when Prigio was consoling
the king in this unfeeling way.

' “Enrico, my boy,” said his majesty, “the
task awaits you, and the honour. When you
come back with the horns and tail of the Fire-
drake, you shall be crown prince; and Prigio
shall be made an usher at the Grammar School
—it is all he is fit for.”

Enrico was not quite so confident as Alphonso .
had been. He insisted on making his will;
and he wrote a poem about the pleasures
and advantages of dying young. This is
part of it:

The violet is a blossom sweet,
-That dvoops befove the day is donc—
Slain by thine overpowering heat,
.O Sun!

And I, like that sweet purple flower,

_ May roast, or boil, or broil, or bake,

If burned by thy terrific power,
Fivedrake !

This poem comforted Enrico more or less,
and he showed it to Prigio. But the prince
only laughed, and said that the second line of
the last verse was not very good ; for violets do
not ‘‘roast, or boil, or broil, or bake.” _

Enrico tried to improve it, but could not.
So he read it to his cousin, Lady Kathleena,
just as it was; and she cried over it (though I
PRINCE PRIGIO. ar

don’t think she ‘understood it); and Enrico
cried a little, too.

However, next day he started, with a spear,
a patent refrigerator, and a lot of the bottles
people throw at fires to put them out.

But he never came back again!

After shedding torrents of tears, the king
summoned Prince Prigio to his presence.

“Dastard!” he said. “ Poltroon! Your turn,
which should have come first, has arrived at
last. You must fetch me the horns and the tail
of the Firedrake. Probably you will be grilled,
thank goodness; but who will give me back
Enrico and Alphonso?”

“Indeed, your majesty,” said Prigio, “you
must permit me to correct your policy. Your
only reason for dispatching your sons in pursuit
of this dangerous but I believe fabulous animal,
was to ascertain which of us would most wor-
thily succeed to your throne, at the date—long
may it be deferred!—of your lamented decease.
Now, there can be no further question about
the matter. I, unworthy as I am, represent the
sole hope of the royal family. Therefore to
send me after the Firedrake were* both dan-
gerous and unnecessary. Dangerous, because,
if he treats me as you say he did my brothers—
my unhappy brothers,—the throne of Pantou-
flia will want an heir. But, if I do come back
alive—why, I cannot be more the true heir than

* Subjunctive mood! He was a great grammarian !

3 *
22 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

Iam at present; now can 1? Ask the Lord
Chief Justice, if you don’t believe me.”

These arguments were so clearly and un-
deniably correct that the king, unable to answer
them, withdrew into a solitary place where he
could express: himself with freedom, ae give
rein to his passions. '
PRINCE PRIGIO. 23

 

CHAPTER IV.

How Rrince Prigio was deserted by Everpbodp.

i EANWHILE, Prince Prigio had to suffer

many unpleasant things. Though he

: was the crown prince (and though his

arguments were unanswerable), every-

body shunned him for a-coward. The

queen, who did not believe in Firedrakes,
alone took his side. He was not only avoided
' by all, but he had most disagreeable scenes
with his own cousins, Lady Molinda and Lady
Kathleena. In the garden Lady Molinda
met him walking alone, and did not bow to
him.

“Dear Molly,” said the prince, who liked
her, ‘“‘how have I been so unfortunate as to
offend you?”

‘My name, sir, is Lady Molinda,” she said,
very proudly; ‘‘and you have sent your own
brother to his grave!”

‘‘Oh, excuse me,” said the prince, “I am
certain he has merely gone off on his travels.
He’ll come back when he’s tired: there ave
no Firedrakes; a French writer says they
are ‘purement fabuleux,’ purely fabulous, you
know.”
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
PRINCE PRIGIO. 25

 

Xu

‘‘Prince Alphonso has gone on his travels,
and will come back when he is -tired! And
was he then—tired—of me?” cried poor
Molinda, bursting into tears, and forgetting
her dignity.

“Oh! I beg your pardon, I never noticed ;
I’m sure I am very sorry,” cried the prince,
who, never having been in love himself, never
thought of other people. And he tried to take
Molinda’s hand, but she snatched it from him
and ran away through the garden to the palace,
leaving Prince Prigio to feel foolish, for once,
and ashamed.

As for Lady Rotiiecs: she swept past ae
like a queen, without a word. So the prince,
for all his cleverness, was not happy.

After several days had gone by, the king
returned from the solitary place where he had
been..speaking his mind.. He now felt calmer
and better; and so at last he came back to the
palace. But on seeing Prince Prigio, who was
lolling in a hammock, translating Egyptian
hieroglyphs into French poetry for his mother,
the king broke out afresh, and made use of the
most cruel and impolite expressions.

At last, he gave orders that all the Court
should pack up-and move to a distant city; and
that Prince Prigio should be left alone in the
palace by himself. For he was quite unendur-
able, the king said, and he could not trust his
own temper when he thought of him. And he
26 \ PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

grew so fierce, that even the queen was afraid
of him now.

The poor queen cried a good deal; Prigio
being her favourite son, on account of his
acknowledged ability and talent. But the rest
of the courtiers were delighted at leaving Prince
Prigio behind. For his part, he, very good-
naturedly, showed them the best and shortest
road to Falkenstein, the city where they were
going; and easily proved that neither the chief
secretary for geography, nor the general of the
army, knew anything about the matter—which,
indeed, they did not.

The ungrateful courtiers left Prigio with hoots
and yells, for they disliked him so much that
they forgot he would be king one day. He
therefore reminded them of this little fact in
future history, which made them feel uncomfort-
able enough, and then lay down in his hammock
and went to sleep.

When he wakened, the air was cold and the
day was beginning to grow dark. Prince Prigio.
thought he would go down and dine at a tavern
in the town, for no servants had been left with
him. But what was his annoyance when he
found that his boots, his sword, his cap, ‘his
cloak—all his clothes, in fact, except those he
wore,—had been taken away by the courtiers,
merely to spite him! His wardrobe had been
ransacked, and everything that had not been
carried off had been cut up, burned, and
PRINCE PRIGIO. ‘27

 

destroyed. Never was such a spectacle of
wicked mischief. It was as if hay had been
made of everything he possessed. What was.
worse, he had not a penny in his pocket to buy
new things; and his father had stopped his.
allowance of fifty thousand pounds a month.

Can you imagine anything more cruel and
unjust than this conduct? for it was not the
prince’s fault that he was so clever. The cruel
fairy had made him so. But, even if the prince
had been born clever (as may have happened to
you), was he to be blamed for that? The other
people were just as much in fault for being born
so stupid ; but the world, my dear children, can
never be induced to remember this. If you
are clever, you will find it best not to let people
know it—if you want them to like you.

Well, here was the prince in a pretty plight.
Not a pound in his pocket, not a pair of boots
to wear, not even a cap to cover his head from
the rain; nothing but cold meat to eat, and
never a servant to answer the bell.
28 PRINCE PRIGIO.

CHAPTER V.
What Rrince rigio found in the ‘Garret.

HE prince walked from room to room of
Tt the palace; but, unless he wrapped him-
self up in a curtain, there was nothing
for him to wear when he went out in ~
the rain. At last he climbed up a
turret-stair in the very oldest part of the
‘castle, where he had never been before; and
at the very top was a little round room, a
kind of garret. The prince pushed in the door
with some difficulty—not that it was locked, but
the handle was rusty, and the wood had swollen
with the damp. The room was very dark;
only the last grey light of the rainy evening
came through a slit of a window, one of those
narrow windows that they used to fire arrows
out of in old times.

But in the dusk the prince saw a heap of
all sorts of things lying on the floor and on
the table. There were two caps; he put one
on—an old, grey, ugly cap it was, made of
felt. There was a pair of boots; and he
kicked off his slippers, and got into them.
They were a good deal worn, but fitted as if
PRINCE PRIGIO. 29

 

they had been made for him. On the table
was a purse with just three gold coins—old
ones, too—in it; and this, as you may fancy,
the prince was very well pleased to put in his
pocket. A sword, with a sword-belt, he buckled
about his waist; and the rest of the articles,
a regular collection of odds and ends, he left
just where they. were lying.. Then he ran
downstairs, and walked out of the hall door.
30 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

CHAPTER VI.

What Happened to Prince Prigio in Town.

The town was just.three miles off;
but he had such a royal appetite, that
he did not like to waste it on bad
cookery, and the people of the royal
town were bad cooks.

“J wish I were in ‘The Bear,’ at Gluck-
stein,” said he to himself; for he remembered
that there was a very good cook there. But,.
then, the town was twenty-one leagues away—
sixty-three long miles!

No sooner had the prince said this, and
taken just three steps, than he found himself at
the door of the ‘‘ Bear Inn” at Gluckstein !

“This is the most extraordinary dream,”
said he to himself; for he was far too clever, of
course, to believe in seven-league boots. Yet
he had a pair on at that very moment, and it
was they which had carried him in three strides.
from the palace to Gluckstein!

The truth is, that the prince, in looking about
the palace for clothes, had found his way into.
that very old lumber-room where the magical
gifts of the fairies had been thrown by his.

B this time the prince was very hungry.

10998
PRINCE PRIGIO. 31

 

 

clever mother, who did not believe in them.
But this, of course, the prince did not know.
Now you should be told that seven-league
boots only take those prodigious steps when
you say you want to go along distance. Other-
wise they would be very inconvenient—when
you only want to cross the.room, for example.
Perhaps this has not been explained to you by
your governess ?
, Well, the prince walked into ‘‘ The Bear,”
and it seemed odd to him that nobody took any
notice of him. And yet his face was as well
known as that of any man in Pantouflia; for
everybody had seen it, at least in pictures.
He was so puzzled by not being attended to
as usual, that he quite forgot to take off lus cap.
He sat down «
at a table,
however,
and shouted
> “Kellner!”
at which all
the waiters
jumped, and
looked round
in every di-
rection, but
nobody came
to him. At first he thought they were too
busy, but presently another explanation occurred
to him 7

 
32 PRINCE PRIGIO.

. “ The king,” said he to himself, “‘ has threat-
ened to execute anybody who speaks to me, or
helps me in any way. Well, I don’t mean to
starve in the midst of plenty, anyhow; here’
goes!”
The prince rose, and went to the table in the
midst of the room, where a huge roast turkey
had just been placed. He helped himself to
half the breast, some sausages, chestnut stuffing,
bread sauce, potatoes, and a bottle of red wine—
Burgundy. He then went back to a table ina
corner, where he dined very well, nobody
- taking any notice of him. . When he had
finished, he sat watching the other people
dining, and smoking his cigarette. As he was
sitting thus, a very tall man, an officer in the
uniform of the Guards, came in, and, walking
straight to the prince’s table, said: ‘ Kellner,
clean this table, and bring in the bill of fare.”
With these words, the officer sat down
suddenly in the prince's lap, as if he did not see -
him at all. He was a heavy man, and the
prince, enraged at the insult, pushed him away
and jumped to his feet. As he did so, his cap’
dropped off. The officer fell on his knees at
once, crying: :
‘*Pardon, my prince, pardon! I never saw
you!” eH)
This: was more than the’ prince could be.
expected to believe.
‘‘Nonsense! Count Frederick von Matter-
PRINCE PRIGIO. 33

 

horn,” he said; ‘‘you must be intoxicated.
Sir! you have insulted your prince and your
superior officer. Consider yourself under arrest !
You shall be sent toa prison to-morrow.”

On this, the poor officer appealed piteously to
everybody in the tavern. They all declared that
they had not seen the prince, nor ever had an
idea that he was doing them the honour of
being in the neighbourhood of their town.

More and more offended, and convinced that
there was a conspiracy to annoy and insult
him, the prince shouted for the landlord, called
for his bill, threw down his three pieces of gold
without asking for change, and went into the
, street. ,

“Tt is a. disgraceful conspiracy,” he said.
*‘ The king shall answer for this! I shall write
to the newspapers at once!”

He was not put in a better temper by the
way in which people hustled him in the street.
They ran against him exactly as if they did not
see him, and then staggered back in the greatest
surprise, looking in every direction for the
person they. had jostled. In one of these
encounters, the prince pushed so hard against a
poor old beggar woman that she fell down. As
he was usually most kind and polite, he pulled
off his cap to beg her pardon, when, behold,
the beggar woman gave one dreadful scream,
and fainted! A crowd was collecting, and the
prince, forgetting that he had thrown down all
34 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

his money in the tavern, pulled out his purse.
‘Then he remembered what he had done, and
expected to find it empty; but, lo, there were
three pieces of gold in it! Overcome with
surprise, he thrust the money into the woman’s
hand, and put on his cap again. In a moment
the crowd, which had been staring at him,
rushed away in every direction, with cries of
terror, declaring that there was a magician in
the town, and a fellow who could appear and
disappear at pleasure !

By this time, you or I, or anyone who was
not so extremely clever as Prince Prigio, would
have understood what was. the matter. He
had put on, without knowing it, not only the
seven-league boots, but the cap of darkness,
and had taken Fortunatus’s purse, which could
never be empty, however often you took all the
money out. All those and many other delightful
wares the fairies had given him at his christen-
ing, and the prince had found them in the dark
garret. But the prince was so extremely wise,
and learned, and scientific, that he did not
believe in fairies, nor in fairy gifts.

‘*It is indigestion,” he said to himself: ‘those
sausages were not of the best; and that Bur-
gundy was Say strong. Things are not
as they appear.’

Here, as he was arguing with himself, he was
nearly run over by a splendid carriage and six,
the driver of which never took the slightest
 

SSS
=|
=

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
36 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

notice of him. Annoyed at this, the prince
leaped up behind, threw down the two footmen,
who made no.resistance, and so was carried to
the door of a magnificent palace. He was
determined to challenge the gentleman who was
in the carriage; but, noticing that he had a
very beautiful young lady with him, whom he
had never seen before, he followed them into the
house, not wishing to alarm the girl, and mean-
ing to speak to the gentleman when he found
him alone.

A great ball was’ going on; but, as usual,
nobody took any notice of the prince. He
walked among the guests, being careful not to
jostle them, and listening to their conversation.

It was all about himself! Everyone had
heard of his disgrace, and almost everyone cried

“Serve him right!” They said that the airs
he gave himself were quite unendurable—that
nothing was more rude than to be always in the
right—that cleverness might be carried far too
far—that it was better‘even to be born stupid
(‘‘ Like the rest of you,” thought the prince);
and, in fact, nobody had a good word for him.

Yes, one had! It was the pretty lady of the
carriage. I never could tell you how pretty she
was. She was tall, with cheeks like white roses
blushing: she had dark hair, and very large
dark-grey eyes, and her face was the kindest in -
the world! The prince first thought how nice »
and good she looked, even before he thought
PRINCE PRIGIO. 37

how pretty she looked. She stood up for Prince
Prigio when her partner would speak ill of him.
She had never seen the prince, for she was but
newly come to Pantouflia ; but she declared that
it was his misfortune, not his fault, to be so
clever. ‘And, then, think how hard they made
him work at school! Besides,” said this kind
young lady, “‘I hear he is extremely handsome,
and very brave; and he hasa good heart, for he
was kind, I have heard, to a poor boy, and did
all his examination papers for him, so that the
boy passed first in everything. And now he is
Minister for Education, though he can’t do a
line of ‘Greek prose!”

The prince blushed at this, for he knew his
conduct had not been honourable. But he at
once fell over head and ears in love with the
young lady, a thing he had never done in his
life, before, because—he said—‘* women were so
stupid!’? You see he was so clever!

_ Now, at this very moment—when the prince,
all of a sudden, was as deep in love as if he had
been the stupidest officer in the room—an
extraordinary thing happened! Something
seemed to give a whirr! in his brain, and in
one instant he knew all about it! . He believed
in fairies and fairy gifts, and understood that his
cap was the cap of darkness, and his shoes the
seven-league boots, and his purse the purse of
Fortunatus! He hadread about those things in
historical books: but now he believed in them.
4 *
38 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

CHAPTER VII.

The Prince Falls in Love.

E understood all this, and burst out
ht laughing, which nearly frightened an
w\ old lady near him out of her wits.
Ah! how he wished he was only in

; - evening dress, that he might dance with

the charming young lady. But there he
was, dressed just as if he were going out to hunt,
if anyone could have seen him. So, even if
he took’ off his cap of darkness, and became
visible, he was no figure for a ball. Once he
would not have cared, but now he cared very
much indeed.

But the prince was not clever for nothing.
He thought for a moment, then went out of the
room, and, in three steps of the seven-league
boots, was:at his empty, dark, cold palace again.
He struck a light with a flint and steel, lit a
torch, and ran upstairs to the garret. The
flaring light of the torch fell on the pile of
“rubbish,” as the queen would have called it,
which he turned over with eager hands. Was
there—yes, there was another cap! There it
lay, a handsome green one with a red feather.
PRINCE PRIGIO. 39

 

‘The prince pulled off the cap of darkness, put
-on the other, and said:

“TIT wish I were dressed in my best suit of white
and gold, with the royal Pantouflia diamonds!”

In one moment there he was in white and
gold, the greatest and most magnificent dandy
in the whole world, and the handsomest
man !

“How about my boots, I wonder,” said
the prince; for his seven-league boots were
stout riding-boots, not good to dance in,
whereas mow he was in elegant shoes of silk
and gold.

He threw down the wishing cap, put on the
other—the cap of darkness—and made three
strides in the direction of Gluckstein. But he
was only three steps nearer it than he had been,
and the seven-league boots were standing be-
side him on the floor!

** No,” said the prince; ‘‘no man can be in
two different pairs of boots at one and the same
time! That’s mathematics!”

He then hunted about in the lumber-room
again till he found a small, shabby, old Persian
carpet, the size of a hearthrug. He went to
his own room, took a portmanteau in his hand,
sat down on the carpet, and said: -
’ “T wish I were in Gluckstein.”

In a moment there he found himself; for
this was that famous carpet which Prince
Hussein bought long ago, in the market at
»40 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

 

Bisnagar, and which the fairies had brought,
-with the. other pre-
sents, to the christen-
ing of Prince Prigio.

When he arrived at
the house where the
ball was going on, he
put the magical’ car-
pet in the portmanteau,
and left it in the cloak-
room, receiving a num-
bered ticket. in ex-
change. Then ‘he
marched in all his glory (and, of course, with-
out the cap of darkness) into.the room where
they were dancing. Everybody made place for
him, bowing down to the ground, and the joyal
band struck up The Prince’s March :

 

Heaven bless our Prince Prigio !
Sy What is theve he doesn't know ?
Y, ; Greek, Swiss, German (High and Low),
ewes And the names.of the mountains in Mexico,
Heaven bless the prince !

He used to be very fond of this march, and the
words—some people even. said he had made
them himself. But now, somehow, he didn’t
much like it. . He went straight to the Duke of
Stumpfelbahn, ‘the Hereditary Master of the
Ceremonies, 'and asked to be introduced to. the
beautiful young lady. She was the daughter of
the new English: Ambassador, and her name.
PRINCE PRIGIO. 41

 

was Lady Rosalind. But she nearly fainted
when she heard who it. was that wished to
dance with her, for she was not at all parti-
cularly clever; and the prince had such a bad
character for snubbing girls, and asking them
difficult questions. However, it was impossible
to refuse, and so she danced with the prince,
and he danced very well. Then they sat out in
the conservatory, among the flowers, where
nobody came near them; and then they danced
again, and ‘then the Prince took her down to
supper. And all the time he never once said,
“Have you read this?” or ‘Have you read
that?” or, ‘“‘What! you never heard of
Alexander the Great?” or Julius Caesar, or
Michael Angelo, or whoever it might be—
horrid, difficult questions he used to ask. That
was.the way he-wsed to goon: but now he only
talked to the young lady about herself; and she
quite left off being shy or frightened, and asked
him all about his own country, and about the
Firedrake shooting, and said how fond she
was of hunting herself. And the prince said:

“Oh, if you wish it, you shall have the horns
and tail of a Firedrake to hang up in your hall,
to-morrow evening!”

_Then she asked if it:was not very dangerous
work, Firedrake hunting; and he said it was
nothing, when you knew the trick of it: and he
asked her if she would but give him a rose out
of her bouquet ; and, in short, he made himself
. 42 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

so agreeable and «wnaffected, that she thought
him very nice indeed.

For, even a clever person can be:nice when
he likes—above all, when he isnot thinking about
himself. And now the prince was thinking of
nothing in the world but the daughter of the
English Ambassador, and how to please her-
He got introduced to her father too, and quite
won his heart; and, at last, he was invited to
dine next day at the Embassy.

In Pantouflia, it is the custom that a ball
must not end while one of the royal .family
goes on dancing. This ball lasted till the light
came in, and the birds were singing out of
doors, and all the mothers prescut were sound
asleep. Then
nothing ,would
Satisfy the
prince, but that
they all should
go home sing-
ex.ing through
the streets; in
fact, there never
had been so merry a dance in all Pantouflia.
The prince had made a point of dancing with
almost every girl there: and he had suddenly
become the most belovéd of the royal family.
But everything must end at last; and the prince,
putting on the cap of darkness and sitting on
the famous carpet, flew back to his lonely castle.

 
PRINCE PRIGIO. 43

CHAPTER VIII.
The Prince is Puzzled.

RINCE PRIGIO did not go to’ bed. It
was bright daylight, and he had promised
to bring the horns and tail of a Fire-
drake as a present to a pretty lady.
He had said it was easy to do this;
but now, as he sat and thought over it,

the did not feel so victorious.

‘* First,”’ he said, ‘“‘ where is the Firedrake?”

He reflected for a little, and then ran upstairs
‘to the garret.

_ “It should be here!” he cried, tossing the
fairies’ gifts about; ‘‘and, by George, here
it is!”

Indeed, he had found the spyglass of carved
ivory which Prince Ali, in the Arabian Nights,
bought in the bazaar in Schiraz. Now, this
glass was made so that, by looking through it,
you could see anybody or anything you wished,
however far away. Prigio’s first idea was to
look at his lady. ‘‘ But she does not expect to
be looked at,” he thought; “and I won’t!”
‘On the other hand, he determined to look at
the Firedrake ; for, of course, he had no delicacy
about spying on him, the brute.
44 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

The prince clapped the glass to his eye,
stared out of window, and there, sure enough,
he saw the Firedrake. He was floating about
in a sea of molten lava, on the top of a volcano.
There he was, swimming and diving for pleasure,
tossing up the flaming waves, and blowing
eens of fire out of his nostrils, like a whale
spouting !

The prince did not slike the looks of him.

 

_“ With all my cap of darkness, and my shoes
of swiftness, and my sword of sharpness, I
never could get near that beast,” he said; ‘“‘and
if I did stalk him, L could not hurt him. - Poor
little Alphonso! poor Enrico! what plucky
fellows they were! I fancied that there was
no such thing as a Firedrake: he’s not in the
PRINCE PRIGIO. 45

 

Natural History books; and I thought the boys
were only making fun, and would be back soon,
safe and sound. How horrid being too clever
makes one! And now, what am I to do?”

What was he to do, indeed? And what would
you have done? Bring the horns and tail he
must, or perish in the adventure. Otherwise,
how could he meet his lady ?—why, she would
think him a mere braggart.

The prince sat down, and thought and
thought; and the day went on, and it was
now high noon.

At last he jumped up and rushed into the
library, a room where nobody ever went except
himself and the queen. There he turned the
books upside down, in his haste, till he found
an old one, by a French gentleman, Monsieur
Cyrano de Bergerac. It was an account of a
voyage to the moon, in which there is a great
deal of information about matters not generally
known; for few travellers have been to the moon.
In that book, Prince Prigio fancied he would
find something he half remembered, and that
would be of use to him. And he did! Soyou
see that cleverness, and minding your book,
have some advantages, after all. For here the
prince learned that there is a very rare beast
called a Remora, which is at least as cold as
the Firedrake is hot!

“ Now,” thought he, ‘‘2f I can iH make these
two fight, why the Remora may kill the Fire-
 
PRINCE PRIGIO. “47

drake, or take the heat out of him, at least, so
that I may have a chance.”

Then he seized the ivory glass, clapped it to
his eye, and looked for the Remora. Just the
tip of his nose, as white as snow and as smooth
as ice, was sticking out of a chink in a frozen
mountain, not far from the burning mountain
of the Firedrake.

“ Hooray!” said the prince softly to himself;
and he jumped like mad into the winged shoes
of swiftness, stuck on the cap of darkness, girdled
himself with the sword of sharpness, and puta
good slice of bread, with some cold tongue, in
a wallet, which he slung on his back. Never
you fight, if you can help it, except with plenty
of food to keep you going and in good heart.
Then off he flew, and soon he reached the
volcano of the Firedrake.
48 PRINCE. PRIGIO.

 

CHAPTER IX.:-
The Prince and the Firedrake.

T was dreadfully hot, even high up in the
air, where the prince hung invisible. Great
burning stones were tossed up by the vol-
cano, and nearly hit him several times.
Moreover, the steam and smoke, and the
flames which the Firedrake spouted like

foam from his nostrils, would have daunted
even the bravest man. The sides of the hill,.
too, were covered with the blackened ashes of
his victims, whom he had roasted when they,
came out to kill him. The garden-engine of
poor little Alphonso was lying in the valley, all
broken and useless. But the Firedrake, as
happy as a wild duck on a lonely lock, was
rolling and diving in the liquid flame, all
red-hot and full of frolic.

“Hi!” shouted the prince.

The Firedrake rose to the surface, his horns
as red as a red crescent-moon, only bigger, and
lashing the fire with his hoofs and his blazing
tail.

‘“Who’s there?” he said in a hoarse, angry
voice. “Just let me get at you!”
PRINCE PRIGIOQ. 49

 

‘‘Tt’s me,” answered the prince. | It was-the
first time he had forgotten his sie but‘he
was terribly excited:

“What do you pene grunted ine ae

“‘T wish I could see you’’; and, horrible, ‘to
relate, he rose on a pair of wide, flaming wings,
and came’ right at the prince, guided by the
sound of his voice.

Now, the prince had never heard that Fire:
drakes could fly ; indeed, he had never believed
in them at all, till the night before. For a
moment he was numb with terror; then he flew
down like a stone to the very bottom of the hill
and shouted:

66 Hi ! 29

“Well,” grunted the Firedrake, ‘‘ what’s the
matter? Why can’t you give a civil answer to
a civil question ?”

** Will you go back to your hole and swear,
on your honour asa Firedrake, to listen quietly?”

“On my sacred word of honour,” said the
beast, casually scorching an eagle that flew by
into ashes. The cinders fell, jingling and crack-
ling, round the prince in a little shower.

Then the Firedrake dived back, with an awful
splash of flame, and the mountain roared round
him.

The. prince now flew high above him, and
cried:

““A message from the Remora. He says
you are afraid to fight him.”
50 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

“ Don’t know him,” grunted the Firedrake.

“* He sends you his glove,” said Prince Prigio,
“asa Crane to mortal combat, till death do
you part.”

Then he dropped his own glove into the fiery
lake.

** Does he?” yelled the Firedrake. ‘“‘ Just let
me get at him!” and he scrambled out, all red-
hot as he was.

*‘T’ll go and tell him you’re coming,” said
the prince; and with two strides he was over
the frozen mountain of the Remora.
PRINCE PRIGIO. 51

 

CHAPTER X.
The Prince and the Remora.

he had been too warm be-
fore, the prince was too cold
now. The hill of the Remora
was one solid mass of frozen
steel, and the cold rushed
out of it like the breath of
some icy beast, which indeed
it was. All around were
things like marble statues of
men in armour: they were
the dead bodies of the
knights, horses and all, who
had gone out of old to fight the Remora, and
who had been frosted up by him. The prince
felt his blood stand still, and he grew faint;
but he took heart, for there was no time to
waste. Yet he could nowhere see the Remora.

‘** Hi!” shouted the prince.

Then, from a narrow chink at the bottom of
the srnooth, black hill,—a chink no deeper than
that under a door, but a mile Wide asstole outa
hideous head!

It was as flat as the head of a skate-fish, it

5

 
"52 PRINCE PRIGIO.

was deathly pale, and two chill-blue eyes,
-dead-coloured like stones, looked out of it.

Then there came a whisper, like the breath
of the bitter east wind on a wintry day:

‘Where are you,and how can I come to you?”

‘Here Iam!” said the prince from the top
‘of the hill.

Then the flat, white head set itself against
the edge of the chink from which it had peeped,
and slowly, like the movement of a sheet of
ice, it slipped upwards and curled upwards, and
up, and up! There seemed no end to it at all;
and it moved horribly, without feet, holding on
by its own frost to the slippery side of the
frozen hill. Now all the lower part of the black
‘hill was covered with the horrid white thing
-coiled about it in smooth, flat shiny coils; and
still the head was higher than the rest; and still
the icy cold came nearer and nearer, like Death.

The prince almost fainted : everything seemed
‘to swim; and in one moment more he weuld
have fallen stiff on the mountain-top, and the
‘white head would have crawled over him, and
the cold coils would have slipped over him
and turned him to stone. And still the. thing
‘slipped up, from the chink under the mountain.

But the prince made a great effort; he moved,
and in two steps he was far away, down in the
valley where it was not so very cold.

“Hi!” he shouted, as soon as his tongue
could move within his chattering teeth.
PRINCE PRIGIO. 53

 

There came a clear, hissing answer, like
frozen words dropping round him:

“Wait till I come down. What do you
want?”

Then the white folds began to slide, like
melting ice, from the black hill.

_ Prince Prigio felt the air getting warmer
behind him, and colder in front of him.

He looked round, and there were the trees
beginning to blacken in the heat, and the grass
looking like a sea of fire along the plains; for
the Firedrake was coming!

The prince just took time to shout, * The
Firedrake is going to pay you a visit!’’ and
then he soared to the top of a neighbouring
hill, and looked on at what followed.
54 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

CHAPTER XI.

{he Battle.

Remora heard the name of the Firedrake,

his hated enemy, he slipped with wonder-

ful speed from the cleft of the mountain

into the valley. On and on and on he

poured over rock and tree, asifa frozen river .
could ‘slide downhill; on and on, till there were
miles of him stretching along the valley—miles
of the smooth-ribbed, icy creature, crawling and
slipping forwards. The green trees dropped
their leaves as he advanced; the birds fell
down dead from the sky, slain by his frosty
breath! But, fast as the Remora stole forward,
the Firedrake came quicker yet, flying and
clashing his fiery wings. At last they were
within striking distance; and the Firedrake,
stooping from the air, dashed with his burn-
ing horns and flaming feet slap into the body
of the Remora.

Then there rose a steam so dreadful, such a
white yet fiery vapour of heat, that no one who
had not the prince’s magic glass could have
seen what happened. With horrible grunts
and roars the Firedrake tried to burn his way

[ was an awful sight to behold! When the
(
PRINCE PRIGIO. 55

right through the flat body of the Remora, and
to chase him to his cleft in the rock. But the
Remora, hissing terribly, and visibly melting
away in places, yet held his ground; and the
prince could see his cold white folds climbing
slowly up the hoofs of the Firedrake—up and
up, till they reached his knees, and the great
burning beast roared like a hundred bulls with
the pain. Then up the Firedrake leaped, and
hovering on his fiery wings, he lighted in the
midst of the Remora’s back, and dashed into
it with his horns. But the flat, cruel head
writhed backwards, and, slowly bending over
on itself, the wounded Remora slid greedily to
fasten again on the limbs of the Firedrake.

Meanwhile, the prince, safe.on his hill, was
lunching on the loaf and the cold tongue he
had brought with him.

“Go it, Remora! Go it, Firedrake! you’re
gaining. Give it him, Remora!” he shouted
in the wildest excitement.

Nobody had ever seen such a battle; he had
it all to himself, and he never enjoyed anything
more. He hated the Remora so much, that he
almost wished the Firedrake could beat it; for
the Firedrake was the more natural beast of
the pair. Still, he was alarmed when he saw
that the vast flat body of the Remora was now
slowly coiling backwards, backwards, into the
cleft below the hill; while a thick wet mist
showed how cruelly it had suffered. But the
56 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

Firedrake, too, was in an unhappy way; for
his legs were now cold and black, his horns
were black also, though his body, especially
near the heart, glowed still like red-hot iron.

“Go it, Remora!” cried the prince: “his
legs are giving way; he’s groggy on his pins!
One more effort, and he won’t beable to
move!”

Encouraged by this advice, the white, slip-
pery Remora streamed out of his cavern again,
more and more of him uncoiling, as if the
mountain were quite full of him. He had lost
strength, no doubt: for the steam .and mist
went up from him in clouds, and the hissing of
his angry voice grew fainter; but so did the roars
of the Firedrake. Presently they sounded more
like groans; and at last the Remora:slipped up
his legs above the knees, and fastened on his
very heart of fire. Then the Firedrake stood
groaning like a black bull, knee-deep in snow;
and still the Remora climbed and climbed.

‘Go it now, Firedrake!” shouted the prince;
for he knew that if the Remora won, it would
be too cold for him to draw near the place, and
cut off the Firedrake’s head and tail.

“Go it, Drake! he’s slackening!” cried the
prince again; and the brave Firedrake made
one last furious effort, and rising on his wings,
dropped just on the spine of his enemy.

The wounded Remora curled back his head
again on himself, and again crawled, steaming
PRINCE PRIGIO. 57

 

terribly, towards his enemy. But the struggle
was too much for the gallant Remora. The
flat, cruel head moved slower; the steam from
his thousand wounds grew fiercer; and he gently
breathed his last just as the Firedrake, too, fell
over and lay exhausted. With one final roar,
like the breath of a thousand furnaces, the
Firedrake expired.

The prince, watching from the hill-top, could
scarcely believe that these two awful scourges of
Nature, which had so long devastated his
country, were actually dead. But when he
had looked on for half-an-hour, and only a
river ran where the Remora had been, while
the body of the Firedrake lay stark and cold,.
he hurried to the spot.

Drawing the sword of sharpness, he hacked
off, at two blows, the iron head and the tail of
the Firedrake. They were a weary weight to
carry; but in a few strides of the shoes of
swiftness he was at his castle, where he threw
down his burden, and nearly fainted with
excitement and fatigue.

But the castle clock struck half-past seven;
dinner was at eight, and the poor prince
crawled on hands and knees to the garret.
Here he put on the wishing-cap; wished for a
pint of champagne, a hot bath, and his best
black velvet and diamond suit. In a moment
these were provided; he bathed, dressed, drank
a glass of wine, packed up the head and tail of
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
PRINCE. PRIGIO.. 59

 

the Firedrake, sat down on the flying carpet,
and knocked at the door of the English Ambas-
sador as the clocks were striking eight in
Gluckstein.

Punctuality ts the politeness of princes; and a
prince zs polite when he is in love!

The prince was received at the door by a
stout porter and léd into the hall, where several
butlers met him, and he laid the mortal remains
of the Firedrake under the cover of the flying
‘carpet.

Then he was led upstairs, and he made his
bow to the pretty lady, who, of course, made
him a magnificent courtesy. She seemed pret-
tier and kinder than ever. The prince was so
happy, that he never noticed how something
went wrong about the dinner. The ambas-
sador looked about, and seemed to miss
someone, and spoke in a low voice to one of
the servants, who answered also in a low voice,
and what he said seemed to displease the
ambassador. But the prince was so busy in
talking to his lady, and in eating his dinner
too, that he never observed anything unusual.
He had never been at such a pleasant dinner!
60 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

CHAPTER XII.

A Yerrible Misfortune.

Were the ladies left, and the prince
fW, and the other gentlemen were alone,
as the ambassador appeared more gloomy

than ever. At last he took the prince

; into a corner, on pretence of showing

him a rare statue.

** Does your royal highness not know,” he:
asked, ‘‘ that you are in considerable danger ?”

“Still?” said the prince, thinking of the
Firedrake.

The ambassador did not know what he
meant, for he had never heard of the fight,
but he answered gravely:

‘Never more than now.”

Then he showed the princetwo proclamations,
which had been posted all about the town.

Here is the first:

TO ALL LOYAL SUBJECTS.
Whereas,

Our eldest son, Prince Prigio, hath of late
been guilty of several high crimes and mis-
demeanours.

First: By abandoning the post of danger
against the Firedrake, whereby our beloved
PRINCE PRIGIO. 61

 

sons, Prince Alphonso and Prince Enrico,
have perished, and been overdone by that
monster.

Secondly: By attending an unseemly revel in
thé town of Gluckstein, where he brawled in
the streets.

Thirdly: By trying to seduce away the
hearts of our loyal subjects in that city, and
to blow up a party against our crown and
our peace.

 

This is to give warning,

That whoever consorts with, comforts, aids,
or abets the said Prince Prigio, is thereby a
partner in his treason; and
62 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

That a reward of Five THousAND PURSES
will be given to whomsoever brings the said
prince, alive, to our Castle of Falkenstein.

Groenio R.

And here is the second proclamation :

REWARD.
THE FIREDRAKE.
Whereas,
Our dominions have lately been devastated
by a Firedrake (the Salamander Furiosus of
Buffon) ;

This is to advise all,

That whosoever brings the horns.and tail of
the said Firedrake to our Castle of Falken-
stein, shall receive FivE THousaND PURSES,
the position of Crown Prince, with the usual
perquisites, and the hand of the king’s niece,
the Lady Molinda.

Groenio R.

“H’m,” said the prince; ‘‘I did not think
his majesty wrote so well;” and he would
have liked to say, ‘‘ Don’t you think we might
join the ladies?”

“But, sir,” said the ambassador, “the streets
are lined with soldiers; and I know not how
you have escaped them. Herve, under my roof,
you are safe for the moment; but a prolonged
stay—excuse my inhospitality—could not but
strain the harmonious relations which prevail
PRINCE PRIGIO. 63

between the Government of Pantouflia and that
which I have the honour to represent.”

‘“We don’t want to fight; and no more, I
think, do you,” said the prince, smiling.

“Then how does your royal highness mean
to treat the proclamations?”

“Why, by winning these ten thousand
purses. I can tell you £1,000,000 is worth
having,” said the prince. ‘‘I’ll deliver up the
said prince, alive, at Falkenstein this very
night; also the horns and tail of the said
Firedrake. But I don’t want to marry my
Cousin Molly.”

‘ May I remind your royal highness that
Falkenstein is three hundred miles away?
Moreover, my head butler, Benson, disappeared
from the house before dinner, and I fear he went
to warn Captain Kopzoffski that you are here!”

“That is nothing,” said the prince; “ but,
my dear Lord Kelso, may I not have the
pleasure of presenting Lady Rosalind with a
little gift, a Philippine ‘which I lost to her last
night, merely the head and tail of a Firedrake
which I stalked this morning?”

The ambassador was so astonished that he
ran straight upstairs, forgetting his manners,
and crying:

“Linda! Linda! come down at once; here’s
a surprise for you!”

Lady Rosalind came sweeping down, witha
smile on her kind face. . She guessed what it
64 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

was, though the prince had said nothing about
it at dinner.

“Lead the way, your royal highness!” cried
the ambassador; and the prince offering Lady
Rosalind his arm, went out into the hall, where
he saw neither his carpet nor the horns and
tail of the Firedrake!

He turned quite pale, and said:

“Will you kindly ask the servants where the
little Persian prayer-rug and the parcel which I
brought with me have been placed ?”’

_Lord Kelso rang the bell, and in came all
the servants, with William, the under-butler,
at their head.

“William,” said his lordship, ‘“‘ where have
you put his royal highness’s parcel and his
carpet?”

‘Please, your lordenips > said William, “we
think Benson have took them away with him.”

‘‘And where is Benson ?”

**We don’t know, your lordship. We think
he have been come for!”

“Come for—by whom?”

William stammered, and seemed at a loss for
a reply.

“Quick! answer! what do you know about
it? ? od

William said at last, rather as if he were
making a speech:

- “Your royaliness, and my lords and taaies,
it was like this. . His royaliness comed in with
PRINCE PRIGIO. 65

 

a rug over his arm, and summat under it. And
he lays it down on that there seat, and Thomas
shows him into the droring-room. Then
Benson says: ‘Dinner’ll be ready in five
minutes; how tired I do feel!’ Then he takes
the libbuty of sitting hisself down on his royal-
iness’s rug, and he says, asking your pardon,
‘T’ve had about enough of service here. I’m
about tired, and I thinks of bettering myself. I
wish I was at the king’s court, and butler.’
But before the words was out of his mouth, off
he flies like a shot through the open door, and
his royaliness’s parcel with him. I run to the
door, and there he was, flying right hover the
town, in a northerly direction. And that’s all
I know; for I would not tell a lie, not if it was

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
- 66 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

hever so. And me, and Thomas—as didn’t see
it,—and cook, we thinks as how Benson was
come for. And cook says as she don’t wonder
at it, neither; for a grumblinger, more ill-
conditioneder rs
“Thank you, William,” said Lord Kelso;
“that will do; you can go, for the present.”

 
PRINCE ‘PRIGIO. 67

 

CHAPTER XIII.

Su rprises.

said nothing, Lady Rosalind said never
a word till they were in the drawing-
room. It was a lovely warm evening,
and the French windows were wide
open on the balcony, which looked over
the town and away north to the hills. Below
them flowed the clear, green water of the
Gluckthal. And still nobody said a word.

At last the prince spoke:

“This is a very strange | story, Lord
Kelso!”

' “Very, sir!” said the ambassador.

‘‘But true,” added the prince; “‘at least,
there is no reason in the nature of things why
it shouldn’t be true.”

‘I can hardly believe, sir, that the conduct
of Benson, whom I always found a most
respectable man, deserved 2

“That he should be ‘come for,’” said the
prince. ‘Oh, no; it was a mere accident, and
might have happened to any of us who chanced
to sit down on my carpet.”

And then the prince told them, shortly, all
6

 

es prince said nothing, the ambassador
:

 
68 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

about it: how the carpet was one of a number
of fairy properties, which had been given him
at his christening; and how so long a time had
gone by before he discovered them; and how,
probably, the carpet had carried the butler
where he had said he wanted to go—namely, to
the king’s Court at Falkenstein.

- Tt would not matter so much,” added the
prince, ‘only I had relied on making my peace
with his majesty, my father, by aid of those
horns and that tail. He was set on getting
them ; and if the Lady Rosalind had not ex-
pressed a wish for them, they would to-day
have been in his possession.”

‘*Oh, sir, you honour us too highly,” mur-
mured Lady Rosalind; and the prince blushed
and said:

“Not at all! Impossible!”

Then, of course, the ambassador became
quite certain that his daughter was admired
by the crown prince, who was on bad terms
with the king of the country; and a more
uncomfortable position for an ambassador—
however, they are used to them.

‘‘ What on earth am I to do with the young

man?” he thought. ‘‘He can’t stay here for
ever; and without his carpet he can’t get away,
for the soldiers have orders to seize him as soon
as he appears in the street. And in the mean-
time Benson will be pretending that he killed
the Firedrake—for he must have got to Falken-

eg
PRINCE PRIGIO. 69

 

stein by now,—and they will be for marrying
him to the king’s niece, and making my butler
crown prince to the kingdom of Pantouflia! It
is dreadful! ” ;

Now all this time the prince was on the
balcony, telling Lady Rosalind all about how
he got the Firedrake done for, in the most
modest way; for, as he said: “J didn’t kill
him: and it is really the Remora, poor fellow,
who should marry Molly; but he’s dead.”

At this very moment there was a‘ whizz
in the air; something shot past them, and,
through the open window, the king, the
queen, Benson, and the mortal remains of
the Firedrake were shot into the ambassador’s
drawing room !

 
70 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

CHAPTER XIV.

The King Explains.

presence of mind was Benson.

PG “Did your lordship ring for coffee ?”
he asked, quietly; and when he was
told ‘‘ Yes,” he bowed and withdrew,
with majestic composure.

When he had gone, the prince threw himself
at the king’s feet, crying:

‘“‘Pardon, pardon, my liege!”

“Don’t speak to me, sir!” answered the ©
king, very angrily; and the poor prince threw
. himself at the feet of the queen.

But she took no notice of him whatever, no
‘more than if he had been a fairy ; and the prince
heard her murmur, as she pinched her royal
arms

“‘T shall waken presently; this is nothing
cout of the way for a dream. Dr. Rumpfino
ascribes it to imperfect nutrition.”

All this time, the Lady Rosalind, as pale asa
marble statue, was leaning against the side of
the open window. The prince thought he could
do nothing wiser than go and comfort her, so

| HE first who recovered his voice: and
®
PRINCE PRIGIO. 71

 

he induced her to sit down ona chair in the
balcony,—for he felt that he was not wanted in
the drawing-room ;—and soon they were talking
happily about the stars, which had begun to
appear in the summer night.

Meanwhile, the ambassador had induced the
king to take a seat; but there was no use in
talking to the queen.

“It would be a miracle,” she said to herself,
‘‘and miracles do not happen; therefore this
has not happened. Presently, I shall wake up
in my own bed at Falkenstein.”

Now, Benson, William, and Thomas brought
in the coffee, but the queen took no notice.
When they went away, the rest of the company
slipped off quietly, and the king was left alone
with the ambassador; for the queen could hardly
be said to count.

“You want to know all about it, I suppose?”
said his majesty ina sulky voice. ‘‘ Well, you
have a right to it, and I shall tell you. We
were just sitting down to dinner at Falkenstein,
rather late,—hours get later every year, I think
—when I heard a row in the premises, and the
captain of the guard, Colonel McDougal, came
and told us that a man had arrived with the
horns and tail of the Firedrake, and was claim-
ing the reward. Her majesty and I rose and
went into the outer court, where we found,
sitting on that carpet with a glass of beer in
his hand, a respectable-looking upper servant,
 
PRINCE PRIGIO. 73

 

whom I recognised as. your butler. He. in-
formed us that he had just killed the beast,
and showed us the horns and tail, sure
enough; there they are! The tail is like the
iron handle of a pump, but the horns are .
genuine. A pair were thrown up by a volcano,
in my great-grandfather’s time, Giglio I.*
Excellent coffee this, of yours!”

The ambassador bowed.

“Well, we asked him where he killed the
Firedrake, and he said in a garden near Gluck-
stein. Then he began to speak about the
reward, and the ‘ perkisits,’ as he called them,
which it seems he had read about in my procla-
mation. Rather a neat thing; drew it up
myself,” added his majesty.

“Very much to the point,” said the ambas-
sador, wondering what the king was coming to.

“Glad you like it,” said the king, much
pleased. ‘‘ Well, where wasI? Oh, yes; your
man said he had killed the creature in a garden,
quite near Gluckstein. I didn’t much like
the whole affair: he is an alien, you see; and
then there was my niece, Molinda—poor girl,
she was certain to give trouble. Her heart is
buried, if I may say so, with poor Alphonso.
But the queen is a very remarkable woman
—very remarkable——”

*The History of this Prince may be read in a treatise
called The Rose and the Ring, by M. A. TrrMarsH. London,
1855.
m7 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

“Very!” said the ambassador, with- perfect
truth.
~ “© Caitiff!’ she cries to your butler,” -his
majesty went on; ‘‘perjured knave, thou lest
in thy throat! Gluckstein is a hundred leagues
from here, and how sayest thou that thou slewest
the monster, and camest hither in a few hours’
space?’ This had not occurred to me,—I am
a plain king, but I at once saw the force of her
majesty’s argument. ‘Yes,’ said I; ‘how did
you manage it?’ But he—your man, I mean—
was not a bit put out. ‘Why, your majesty,’
says he, ‘I just sat down on that there bit of
carpet, wished I was here, and here I ham.
And I’d be glad, having had the trouble,—and
my time not being my own,—to see the: colour
of them perkisits, according tothe proclamation.’
On this her majesty grew more indignant, if
possible. ‘Nonsense!’ she cried; ‘a story out
‘of the Arabian Nights is not suited for a modern
‘public, and fails to win esthetic credence.’
These were her very words.”

“Her majesty’s expressions’ are ever choice
and appropriate,” said the ambassador. - -

*««Sit down there, on‘the carpet, knave,’ she
‘went on; ‘ourself and consort’—meaning me
=‘will take our places by thy side, and J shall
wish us in Gluckstein, at thy master’s!’ When
the experiment has. failed,.thy head shall from
thy shoulders.be.shorn!’, So your man. merely
said, ‘ Very well, mum,—your majesty, I mean,’
PRINCE PRIGIO. 75

 

and sat down. The queen took her place at
the edge of the carpet; I sat between her and
the butler, and she said, ‘I wish I were in
Gluckstein!’ Then we rose, flew through the
air at an‘astonishing pace, and here we are!
So I suppose the rest of the butler’s tale is true,
which I regret; but a king’s word is sacred,
and he shall take the place of that sneak, Prigio.
But as we left home before dinner, and as yours
is over, may I request your lordship to believe
that I should be delighted to take something
cold?”

The ambassador at once ordered a sumptuous
collation, to which the king did full justice ; and
his majesty was shown to the royal chamber,
as he complained of fatigue. The queen accom-
panied him, remarking that she was sound
asleep, but would waken presently. Neither of
them said “‘ Good-night” to the prince. Indeed,
they did not see him again, for he was on the
balcony with Lady Rosalind. They found a
great deal to say to each other, and at last the
prince asked her to be his wife; and she said
that if the king and her father gave their per-
mission—why, then she would! After this she
went to bed; and the prince, who had not slept
at all the night before, felt very sleepy also.
But he knew that first he had something that
must be done. So he went into the drawing-
room, took his carpet, and wished to be—now
where do you suppose? Beside the dead body
76 PRINCE PRIGIO.

of the Firedrake! There he was in a moment;
and dreadful the body looked, lying stark and
cold in the white moonshine. Then the prince
cut off its four hoofs, put them in his wallet, and
with these he flew back in a second, and met
the ambassador just as he came from ushering
the king to bed. Then the prince was shown
his own room, where he locked up the hoofs,
the carpet, the cap of darkness, and his. other
things in an iron box; and so he went to bed
and dreamed of his Lady Rosalind.
PRINCE PRIGIO. 77

 

CHAPTER XV.

Lhe King’s Cheque.

Wr. they all awakened next morning,
nm their first ideas were confused. It is
ih often confusing to wake in a strange

bed, much more so when you have flown

; through the air, like the king, the queen,
and Benson the butler. For her part,
the queen was the most perplexed ofall; for she
did undeniably wake, and yet she was not at
home, where she had expected to be. How-
ever, she was a determined woman, and stood
to it that nothing unusual was occurring. The
butler made up his mind to claim the crown
princeship and the hand of the Lady Molinda;
because, as he justly remarked to William, here
was such a chance to better himself as might not
soon come in his way again. As for the king,
he was only anxious to get back to Falkenstein,
and have the whole business settled in a consti-
tutional manner. The ambassador was not
sorry to get rid of the royal party; and it was
proposed that they should all sit down on the
flying carpet, and wish themselves at home
again. But the queen would not hear of it:
78 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

she said it was childish and impossible; so the
carriage was got ready for her, and she started
without saying a word of good-bye to anyone.
The king, Benson, and the prince were not so:
- particular, and they simply flew back to Falken-
stein in the usual way, arriving there at 11.35—
a week before her majesty.

' The king at once held a Court; the horns and
tail of the monster were exhibited amidst general
interest, and Benson and the prince were invited
to state their claims. i

Benson’s evidence was taken first. He
declined to say exactly where or how he killed
the Firedrake. There might be more of them
left, he remarked,—young ones, that would
take a lot of killing,—and he refused to part
with his secret. Only he claimed the reward,
which was offered, if you remember, not to the
man who killed the beast, but to him who
brought its horns and tail. This was allowed
by the lawyers present to be very sound law;
and Benson was cheered by the courtiers, who.
decidedly preferred him to Prigio, and who, be-
sides, thought he was going to be crown prince.
As for Lady Molinda, she was torn by the most
painful feelings; for, much as she hated Prigio,
she could not bear the idea of marrying Benson.
Yet one or the other choice seemed certain.
Unhappy lady! Perhaps no girl was ever

more strangely beset by misfortune!

: Prince -Prigio was now called on to speak.
PRINCE PRIGIO. 79

He admitted that the reward was offered for
bringing the horns and tail, not for killing the
monster. But were the king’s intentions to go
for nothing? When a subject only meant well,
of course he had to suffer; but when a king
said one thing, was he not to be supposed to
have meant another? Any fellow with a waggon
could bring the horns and tail; the difficult
thing was to kill the monster. If Benson’s
claim was allowed, the royal prerogative of
saying one thing and meaning something else
was in danger.

On hearing this argument, the king so far
forgot himself as to cry, “‘ Bravo, well said!”
and to clap his hands, whereon all the courtiers
shouted and threw up their hats.

The prince then said that whoever had killed
the monster could, of course, tell where to find
him, and could bring his hoofs. He was ready
to do this himself. Was Mr. Benson equally
ready? On this being interpreted to him—for
he did not speak Pantoufllian—Benson grew
pale with horror, but fell back on the proclama-
tion. He had brought the horns and tail,
and so he must have the perquisites, and the
Lady Molinda!

The king’s mind was so much confused by
this time, that he determined to leave it to the
Lady Molinda herselt.

“Which of them will you have, my dear?”
he asked, in a kind voice.
- 80 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

But poor Molinda merely cried. Then his
majesty was almost driven to say that he would
give the reward to whoever produced the hoofs
by that day week. But no sooner -had he said
this than the prince brought them out of his
wallet, and displayed them in open Court. This
ended the case; and Benson, after being enter-
tained with sherry and sandwiches in the
steward’s room, was sent back to his master.
And I regret to say that his temper was not at
all improved by his failure to better himself.
On the contrary, he was unusually cross and dis-
agreeable for several days; but we must, perhaps,
make some allowance for his disappointment.

But if Benson was irritated, and suffered
from the remarks of his fellow-servants, I do
not think we.can envy Prince Prigio. Here he
was, restored to his position indeed, but by no
means to the royal favour. For the king dis-
liked him as much as ever, and was as angry as
ever about the deaths of Enrico and Alphonso.
Nay, he was even more angry; and, perhaps, not
without reason. He called up Prigio before
the whole Court, and thereon the courtiers
cheered like anything, but the king cried:

*‘ Silence! McDougal, drag the first man that
shouts to the serpent-house in the zoological
gardens, and lock him up with the rattlesnakes!”

After that the courtiers were very quiet.

** Prince,” said the king, as Prigio bowed
before the throne, ‘‘you are restored to your
PRINCE PRIGIO, 81

 

position, because I cannot break my promise.
But your base and malevolent nature is even
more conspicuously manifest in your selfish
success than in your previous dastardly con-
tempt of duty. Why, confound you!” cried
the king, dropping the high style in which he
had.been speaking, and becoming the father,
not the monarch,—‘‘why, if you could kill the
Firedrake, did you let your poor little brothers
go and be b—b—b—broiled? Eh! what do you
say, you sneak? ‘You didn’t believe there
were any Firedrakes?’ That just comes of
your eternal conceit and arrogance! If you
were clever enough to kill the creature—and I
admit that—you were clever enough to know
that. what everybody said must be true. ‘You
have not generally found it so?’ Well, you have
this time, and let it be a lesson ‘to you; not
that there is much comfort in that, for it is not
likely you will ever have such another chance”
—exactly the idea that had occurred to Benson.
’ Here the king wept, among the tears of the
lord chief justice, the poet laureate (who had
been awfully frightened when he heard of the
rattlesnakes), the maids of honour, the chaplain
royal, and everyone but Colonel McDougal,
a Scottish soldier of fortune, who maintained
a: military reserve.

When his majesty had recovered, he said to
Prigio (who had not been crying, he was too
much absorbed) :
"82 PRINCE. PRIGIO.

 

-“ A king’s word is‘his bond. Bring mea pen,
somebody, and my cheque-book.”

The royal cheque-book, bound in red morocco,
was brought in by eight pages, with ink and a
pen. His majesty then filled.up and signed
the following satisfactory document — (Ah!
my children, how I wish Mr. Arrowsmith would
do as much for me! ): ©

 

 

 

No. W. $ 961047. FALKENSTEIN, July 10, 1768.
The Bank of Panfouflia.
FALKENSTEIN BRANCH.

Pay to Prince Prigio. no? Order,
Ten Thousand Purses.

ce eo Grognio R.
1,000,000 |

 

“‘There!” said his majesty, crossing his
cheque and throwing sand over it, for blotting-
paper had not yet been invented; “there, take
that, and be off with you!”

Prince Prigio was respectfully but rapidly
obeying his royal command, for he thought he
had better cash the royal cheque as soon as
possible, when his majesty yelled:

“Hi! here! come back! I forgot something;
you’ve got to marry Molinda!”
PRINCE PRIGIO. 83

 

CHAPTER XVI.

cA Melancholy ‘Chapter.

HE prince had gone some way, when the
Tt king called after him. How he wished
gfe he had the seven-league boots on, or
that he had the cap of darkness in his
pocket! If he had been so lucky, he
would now have got back to Gluckstein,
and crossed the border with Lady Rosalind. A
million of money may not seem much, but a pair
of young people who really love each other could
live happily on less than the cheque he had in his
pocket. However, the king shouted very loud,
as he always did when he meant to be obeyed,
and the prince sauntered slowly back again.
“‘Prigio!”’? said his majesty, ‘‘where were
you off to? Don’t you remember that this is
your wedding-day ? My proclamation offered,
not only the money (which you have), but the
hand of the Lady Molinda, which the Court
chaplain will presently make your own. I con-
gratulate you, sir; Molinda is a dear girl.”
“I have the highest affection and esteem for
my cousin, sir,” said the prince, ‘‘ but e

7

 
84 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

“T’ll never marry him!” cried poor Molinda,
kneeling at the throne, where her streaming
eyes and hair made a pretty and touching pic-
ture. ‘“‘Never! I despise him!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“‘T was about to say, sir,” the prince went
on, “that I cannot possibly have the pleasure
of wedding my cousin.”

“The family gibbet, I presume, is in.
good working order?” asked the king
of the family executioner, a tall gaunt man
in black and scarlet, who was only em-
ployed in the case of members of the blood
royal.

“‘ Never better, sire,” said the man, bowing
with more courtliness than his profession: in-
dicated.
PRINCE PRIGIO. 85

 

. “Very well,” said the king; “‘ Prince Prigio,
you have your choice. There is the gallows,
here is Lady Molinda.. My duty is painful, but
clear. A king’s word cannot be broken. Molly,
or the gibbet!”

The prince bowed respectfully to Lady
Molinda:

“Madam, my cousin,” said he, . “your
clemency will excuse my answer, and you will
not misinterpret the apparent discourtesy of
-my conduct. Iam compelled, most unwillingly,
to slight your charms, and
-to select the Extreme Rigour
of the Law. Executioner,
lead on! Do your duty;
for me, Prigio est prét;”—
for this was his motto, and
meant that he was ready.

Poor Lady Molinda could
not but be hurt by the
prince’s preference for death
-over marriage to her, little
as she liked him.

“Ts life, then, so worthless?
and is Molinda so terrible a
Berson that you prefer those
arms,” and she pointed to
the gibbet,* ‘‘to these?’”?>—here she held out
her own, which were very white, round and
pretty: for Molinda was a good-hearted girl,
she could not -bear to see Prigio: put to

Ties

 
- 86 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

death; and then, perhaps, she reflected that
there are worse positions than the queenship of
Pantouflia. For Alphonso was gone—crying
would not bring him back.

“Ah, Madam!” said the prince, “you are
forgiving: j

‘For you are brave!” said Molinda, feeling
quité a respect for him.

*‘ But neither your heart nor mine is ours to
give. Since mine was another’s, I understand
too well the feeling of yours! Do not let us buy

- life at the price of happiness and honour.”

Then, turning to the king the prince
said :

‘Sir, is there no way but by death or mar-
riage? You say you cannot keep half only of
your promise ; and that, if I accept the reward,
I must also unite myself with my unwilling
cousin. Cannot the whole proclamation be
annulled, and will you consider the bargain
void if I tear up this flimsy scroll?”

And here the prince fluttered the cheque for
£1,000,000 in the air.

For a moment the king was tempted; but
then he said to himself:

“Never mind, it’s only an extra penny on
the income-tax.” Then, “Keep your dross,”
he shouted, meaning the million; “ but let me
-keep my promise. To chapel at once, or 2
and he pointed to the exécutioner. ‘‘ The word
of a king of Pantouflia is sacred.”

 

 
PRINCE PRIGIO. 87

 

“And sois that ofa crown prince,’’ answered
Prigio; ‘‘and mine is pledged to a lady.”

‘‘ She shall be a mourning bride,” cried the
king savagely, ‘“‘ unless ’’—here he paused for a
moment—‘‘unless you bring me back Alphonso
and Enrico, safe and well!”

The prince thought for the space of a flash
of lightning.

‘“‘T accept the alternative,” he said, “if your
majesty will grant me my conditions.”

‘Name them!” said the king.

“‘Tet me be transported to Gluckstein, left
there unguarded, and if, in three days, I do not
return with my brothers safe and well, your
majesty shall be spared a cruel duty. Prigio
of Pantouflia will perish by his own hand.”

The king, whose mind did not work very
quickly, took some minutes to think over it.
Then he saw that by granting the prince’s con-
ditions, he would either recover his dear sons,
or, at least, get rid of Prigio, without the un-
pleasantness of having him executed. For,
though some kings have put their eldest sons
to death, and most have wished to do so, they
have never been better loved by the people for
their Roman virtue.

“‘ Honour bright ?” said the king at last.

“ Honour bright !”’ answered the prince, and
for the first time in many months, the royal
father and son shook hands.

“For you, madam,” said Prigio ina stately
88 PRINCE PRIGIO.

way to Lady Molinda,” in less than a week I
trust we. shall be taking our vows at the same
altar, and that the close of the ceremony which
finds us cousins will leave us brother and
sister.”

Poor Molinda merely stared; for she could
not imagine what he meant. In a moment he
was gone; and having taken, by the king’s
permission, the flying carpet, he was back at
the ambassador’s house in Gluckstein.
PRINCE PRIGIO. 89

 

CHAPTER XVII.

[he Black -Gat and the Brethren!

5 HO was glad to see the prince, if it was

HN, §=not Lady Rosalind? The white roses of

x her cheeks turned to red roses in a

moment, and then back to white again,

they were so alarmed at the change. So

the two went into the gardens together,
and talked about a number of things; but at
last the prince told her that, before three days
were over, all would be well, or all would be
over with him. For either he would have
brought his brothers back, sound and well, to
Falkenstein, or he would not survive his dis-
honour.

‘“‘It is no more than right,” he said; ‘for
had I gone first, neither of them would have
been sent to meet the monster after I had
fallen. And I should have fallen, dear Rosa-
lind, if I had faced the Firedrake before I
knew you.”

Then when she asked him why, and what
good she had done him, he told her all the
story; and how, before he fell in love with her,
he didn’t believe-in fairies, or Firedrakes, or
‘gO PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

caps of darkness, or anything nice and impos-
sible, but only in horrid useless facts, and
chemistry, and geology, and arithmetic, and
mathematics, and even political economy.
And the Firedrake would have. made a
mouthful of him, then.

So she was delighted when she heard this,
almost as much delighted as she was afraid
that he might fail in the most difficult adven-
ture. For it was one thing to egg on a Remora
to kill a Firedrake, and quite another to find
the princes if they were alive, and restore
them if they were dead!

But the prince said he had his plan, and
he stayed that night at the ambassador’s.
Next morning he rose very early, before
anyone else was up, that he might not have to
say ‘‘ Good-bye” to Lady Rosalind. Then he
flew in a moment to the old lonely castle,
where nobody went for fear of ghosts, ever
since the Court retired to Falkenstein.

How still it was, how deserted; not a sign
of life, and yet the prince was looking every-
where for some living thing. He hunted the
castle through in vain, and then went out to
the stable-yard; but all the dogs, of course,
had been taken away, and the farmers had
offered homes to the poultry. At last, stretched
at full length in a sunny place, the prince found
a very old, half-blind, miserable cat. The poor
creature was lean, and its fur had fallen off in
 

 

 

 

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g2 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

patches; it could no longer catch birds, nor
even mice, and there was nobody to give it
milk. But cats do not look far into the future ;
and this old black cat—Frank was his name—
had got a breakfast somehow, and was happy
in the sun. The prince stood and looked at
him pityingly, and he thought that even a sick
old cat was, in some ways, happier than most
men.

“‘ Well,” said the prince at last, ‘‘he could
not live long anyway, and it must be done.
He will feel nothing.”

Then he drew the sword of sharpness, and
with one turn of his wrist cut the cat’s head
clean off.

It did not at once change into a beautiful young
lady, as perhaps you expect; no, that was im-
probable, and, as the prince was in love already,
would have been vastly inconvenient. The dead.
cat lay there, like any common cat.

Then the prince built up a heap of straw,
with wood on it; and there he laid poor
puss, and set fire to the pile. Very soon
there was nothing of old black Frank left but
‘ashes !

Then the prince ran upstairs to the fairy
cupboard, his heart beating loudly with excite-
ment. The sun was shining through the
arrow-shot window; all the yellow motes were
dancing’ in its rays. The light fell on the
strange heaps of fairy things—talismans and
PRINCE PRIGIO. 93

 

spells. The prince hunted about here and
there, and at last he discovered six ancient
water-vessels of black leather, each with ‘a
silver plate on it, and on the plate letters en-
graved. This was what was written on the
plates:

AQVA. DE. FONTE. LEONVM.*

‘Thank heaven!” said the prince. “I
thought they were sure to have brought it!”

Then he took one of the old black-leather
bottles, and ran downstairs again to the place
where he had burned the body
of the poor old sick cat.

He opened the bottle, and
poured a few drops of the water
on the ashes and the dying
embers.

Up there sprang a tall, white
flame of fire, waving like a
tongue of light; and forth from
the heap jumped the most
beautiful, strong, funny, black
cat that ever was seen!

It was Frank as he had been in the vigour of
his youth; and he knew the prince at once, and:
rubbed himself against him and purred.

The prince lifted up Frank and kissed his
nose for joy; and a bright tear rolled down on
Frank’s face, and made him rub his nose with
his paw in the most comical manner.

* Water from the Fountain of Lions.

 
94 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

Then the prince set him down, and he ran
round and round after his tail; and, lastly,
cocked his tail‘up, and marched proudly after
the prince into the castle.

“Oh, Frank!” said Prince Prigio, “no cat
since the time of Puss in Boots was ever so well
taken care of as you shall be. For if the fairy
water from the Fountain of Lions can bring you
back to life—why, there is a chance for Alphonso
and Enrico

Then Prigio bustled about, got ready some
cold luncheon from the store-room, took all his
fairy things that he was likely to need, sat down
with them on the flying carpet, and wished
himself at the mountain of the Firedrake.

“‘T have the king now,” he said; “for if I
can’t find the ashes of my brothers, by Jove!
I'll! 2 :

Do you know what he meant to do, if he
could not find his brothers? . Let every child
guess.

Off he flew; and ‘there he was in a second,
just beside poor Alphonso’s garden- engine.
Then Prigio, seeing a little heap of grey ashes
beside the engine, watered them with the fairy
water; and up jumped Alphonso, as jolly as
ever, his sword in his hand.

‘Hullo, Prigio!” cried he; ‘‘are you come
after the monster too? I’ve been asleep, and-
I hada kind of dream that he beat me. But the
pair of us will tackle him.. How is Molinda?”

!??

 
‘PRINCE PRIGIO. 95

 

“Prettier than ever,” said Prigio; ‘but
anxious about you. However, the Firedrake’s
dead and done for; so never mind him. But I
left Enrico somewhere about. Just you sit
down and wait a minute, till I fetch him.”

The prince said this, because he did not wish
Alphonso to know that he and Enrico had not
had quite the best of it in the affair with the
monster.

‘All right, old fellow,” says Alphonso; “ but
have you any luncheon with you? Never was
so hungry in my life!”

Prince Prigio had thought of this, and he
brought out some cold sausage (to which
Alphonso was partial) and some bread, with
which the younger prince expressed himself
satisfied. Then Prigio went up the hill some
way, first warning Alphonso not to sit on his
carpet for fear of accidents like that which
happened to Benson. In a hollow of the hill,
sure enough there was the sword of Enrico, the
diamonds of the hilt-gleaming in the sun. And
there was a little heap of. grey ashes.

The prince poured a few drops of the water
from the Fountain of Lions on them, and up, of
course, jumped Enrico, just as Alphonso had
done.
‘Sleepy old chap-you are, Enrico,” said the
prince; ‘‘but come-on, Alphonso will have
finished the grub unless we look smart.”

So back they came, in time to get their share
96 PRINCE PRIGIO.

of what was going; and they drank the Remora’s
very good health, when Prigio told them about
the fight. But neither of them ever knew that
they had been dead and done for; because
Prigio.invented a story that the mountain was
enchanted, and that, as long as the Firedrake
lived, everyone who came there fell asleep. He
did tell them about the flying carpet, however,
which of course did not much surprise them,
because they had read all about it in the Arabian
Nights and other historical works.

“And now I’ll show you fun!” said Prigio ;
and he asked them both to take their seats on
the carpet, and wished to be in the valley of the
Remora.

‘ There they were in a moment, among the old
knights whom, if you remember, the Remora
had frozen into stone. There was quite a troop
of them, in all sorts of armour—Greek and.
Roman, and Knight Templars like Front de
Bceuf and Brian du Bois Gilbert—all the brave
warriors that had tried to fight the Remora
since the world began.
~ Then Prigio gave each of his brothers some
of the water in their caps, and told them to
go round pouring a drop or two on each frozen
knight. And as they did it, lo and behold!
eath knight came alive, with his horse, and
lifted ats sword and shouted:

“Long live Prince Prigio!”
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
98 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

in Greek, Latin, Egyptian, French, German,
and Spanish,—all of which the prince perfectly
understood, and spoke like a native.

So he marshalled them in order, and sent
them off to ride to Falkenstein and cry:

“Prince Prigio is coming!”

Off they went, the horses’ hoofs clattering,
banners flying, sunshine glittering on the spear-
points. Off they rode to Falkenstein; and
when the king saw them come galloping in, I
can tell you he had no more notion of hanging
Prigio.
PRINCE PRIGIO. 99

 

CHAPTER XVIII.

Lhe Very Last.

HE princes returned to Gluckstein on the
i i carpet, and went to the best inn, where
ge they dined together and slept. Next morn-

» ing they, and the ambassador, who had

; been told all the story, and Lady Rosa-

lind, floated comfortably on the carpet,
back to Falkenstein, where the king wept like
anything on the shoulders of Alphonso and
Enrico. They could not make out why he cried
so, nor why Lady Molinda and Lady Kathleena
cried; but soon they were all laughing and
happy again. But then—would you believe he
could be so mean?—he refused to keep his
royal promise, and restore Prigio to his crown-
princeship! Kings are like that.

But Prigio, very quietly asking for the head
of the Firedrake, said he’d pour the magic
water on that, and bring the Firedrake back to
life again, unless his majesty behaved rightly.
This threat properly frightened King Grognio,
and he apologised. Then the king shook hands
8

 
I0o ' PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

with Prigio in public, and thanked him, and said
he was proud ofhim. As to Lady Rosalind, the
old gentleman quite fell in love with her, and
he sent at once to the Chaplain Royal to get
into his surplice, and marry all the young
people off at once, without waiting for wed-
ding-cakes, and milliners, and all the rest
of it. a

Now, just as they were forming a procession
to march into church, who should appear but
the queen! Her majesty had been travelling
by post all the time, and, luckily, had heard of
none of the doings since Prigio, Benson, and
the king left Gluckstein. I say luckily because
if she had heard of them, she would not have
believed a word of them. But when she saw
Alphonso and Enrico, she was much pleased,
and said:

 

“Naughty boys! Where have you been
hiding? The king had some absurd story
PRINCE PRIGIO. Iol

 

about your having been killed by a fabulous
monster. Bah! don’t tell me. I always said
you would come back after a little trip—didn’t
I, Prigio?”

“Certainly, madam,” said Prigio; ‘‘and I
said so, too. Didn’t I say so?” And all the

courtiers cried: ‘‘ Yes, you did;” but some
added, to themselves, ‘‘ He always says, ‘Didn’t
I say so?’”’

Then the queen was introduced to Lady
Rosalind, and she said it was “rather a short
engagement, but she supposed young people
understood their own affairs best.”” And they
do! So the three pairs were married, with the
utmost rejoicings; and her majesty never, her
whole life long, could be got to believe that
anything unusual had occurred.

The honeymoon of Prince Prigio and the
‘Crown Princess Rosalind was passed at the
castle, where the prince had been deserted by
the Court. But now it was delightfully fitted
up; and Master Frank marched about the house
with his tail in the air, as if the place belonged
to him.

Now, on the second day of their honeymoon,
the prince and princess were sitting in the
garden together, and the prince said, ‘‘ Are you
quite happy, my dear?” and Rosalind said,
“Yes; quite.”

But the prince did not like the tone of her
voice, and he said:
102 PRINCE PRIGIO.

 

“No, there’s something; do tell me what
it is.””

“Well,” said Rosalind, putting her head on
his shoulder, and speaking very low, ‘‘I want
everybody to love you as much as I do. No,
not quite so very much,—but I want them to
like you. Now they can’t, because they are
afraid of you; for you are so awfully clever.
Now, couldn’t you take the wishing cap, and
wish to be no cleverer than other people? Then
everybody would like you!”

The prince thought a minute, then he
said :

“Your will is law, my dear; anything to.
please you. Just wait a minute!”

Then he ran upstairs, for the last time,
to the fairy garret, and he put on the wishing
cap.

“No,” thought he to himself, ‘I won’t wish
that. Every man has one secret from his wife,
and this shall be mine.”

Then he said aloud: “I wish TO SEEM no
CLEVERER THAN OTHER PEOPLE.”

Then he ran downstairs again, and the
princess noticed a great difference in him
(though, of course, there was really none at all),
and so did everyone. For the prince remained
as clever as ever he had been; but, as nobody
observed it, he became the most popular prince,
and finally the best-beloved king who had ever
sat on the throne of Pantouflia.
PRINCE PRIGIO. 103

 

But occasionally Rosalind would say, “‘I do
believe, my dear, that you are really as clever

as ever!”
And he was!

 
 

 
PRINCE RICARDO OF
PANTOUFLIA

BEING THE ADVENTURES OF PRINCE PRIGIO’S SON.
PRINCE RICCARDO
Dedicated

TO

GUY CAMPBELL.

My dear Guy,

You wanted to know more about Prince
Prigio, who won the Lady Rosalind, and killed
the Fivedvake and the Remora by aid of his
Fairy gifts. Here you have some of his later
adventures, and you will learn from this story

the advantages of minding your book.

Yours always,

Ki hong,
   
  
 
  
  

S$ntroductory.

EXPLAINING MATTERS.

x hs hy
HERE may be children whose
education has been so neg-
Jected that they have not
dread Prince Prigio. As
Se this new story is about
Prince Prigio’s son,
Ricardo, you are to learn that Prigio was
the child and heir of Grognio, King of
Pantouflia. The fairies gave the little Prince
cleverness, beauty, courage; but one wicked
fairy added, ‘‘You shall be too clever.” His
mother, the queen, hid away in a cupboard
all the fairy presents,—the Sword of Sharp-
ness, the Seven-League Boots, the Wishing
Cap, and many other useful and delightful
gifts, in which her Majesty did not believe!
But after Prince Prigio had become universally
disliked and deserted, because he was so
very clever and conceited, he happened to
find all the fairy presents in the old turret
8 *

Ka.
* 108 INTRODUCTORY.

 

chamber where they had been thrown. By
means of these he delivered his country from
a dreadful Red-Hot Beast, called the Fire-
drake, and, in addition to many other
triumphs, he married the good and beautiful
Lady Rosalind. His love for her taught him
not to be conceited, though he did not cease
to be extremely clever and fond of reading.

When this new story begins the Prince has
succeeded to the crown, on the death of King —
Grognio, and is unhappy about his own son,
Prince Ricardo, who is not clever, and who
hates books! The story tells of Ricardo’s
adventures: how he tried to bring back Prince
Charlie to England, how he failed; how he
dealt with the odious old Yellow Dwarf; how
he was aided by the fair magician, the Princess
Jaqueline ; how they both fell into a dreadful
trouble; how King Prigio saved them; and
how Jaqueline’s dear and royal papa was
discovered; with the end of all thesejadven-
tures. The moral of the story will easily be
discovered by the youngest reader, or, if not,
it does not much matter.
  
 
    
 
  

 

 
 
 
 

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WA

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CHAPTER I.

 
 
 
 
 
  

The [roubles of King Prigio.

°M sure I don’t know what to
do with that boy!” said King
Prigio of Pantouflia.

“If you don’t know, my
dear,” said Queen Rosalind,
his illustrious consort,
“‘T can’t see what is
to be done. You are
so clever.”
22 The king and queen
— were sitting in the royal
library, of which the
shelves were full of the most delightful fairy
books in all languages, all equally familiar to
_ IIo PRINCE RICARDO.

 

King Prigio. The queen could not read
most of them herself, but the king used to
read them aloud to her. A good many
years had passed —seventeen, in fact —since
Queen Rosalind was married, but you would
not think it to look at her. Her grey eyes
were as kind and soft and beautiful, her dark
hair as dark, and her pretty colour as like a
white rose blushing, as on the day when she
was a bride. And she was as fond of the king
as when he was only Prince Prigio, and he was
as fond of her as on the night when he first met
her at the ball.

“No, I don’t know what to do with Dick,”
said the king.

‘He meant his son, Prince Ricardo, but he
called him Dick in private.

‘*T believe it’s the fault of his education,”’ his
Majesty went on. ‘“ We have not brought him
up rightly. These fairy books are at the bottom
- of his provoking behaviour,” and he glanced
round the shelves. ‘‘ Now, when I was a boy,
my dear mother tried to prevent me from
reading fairy books, because she did not believe
in fairies.”

‘*But she was wrong, you know,” said the
queen. ‘ Why, if it had not been for all these
fairy presents, the Cap of Darkness and all the
rest of them, you never could have killed the
Fire-beast and the Ice-beast, and—you never
could have married me,” the queen added, in a
PRINCE RICCARDO. III

happy whisper, blushing beautifully, for that
was a foolish habit of hers.

“Tt is quite true,” said the king, ‘‘ and there-
fore I thought it best to bring Dick up on fairy
books, that he might know what is right, and
have no nonsense about him. But perhaps the
thing has been overdone; at all events, it is
not a success. I wonder if fathers and sons will
ever understand each other, and get on well
together? There was my poor father, King Grog-
nio, he wanted me to take to adventures, like
other princes, fighting Firedrakes, and so forth ;
and I did not care for it, till you set me on,” and
he looked very kindly at her Majesty. ‘‘ Andnow,
here’s Dick,” the monarch continued, ‘‘ I can’t
hold him back. He is always after a giant, or
a dragon, or a magician, as the case may be;
he will certainly be ploughed for his examina-
tion at College. Never opens a book. What
does he care, off after every adventure he can
hear about? An idle, restless youth! Ah, my
poor country, when I am gone, what may not
be your misfortunes under Ricardo!”

Here his Majesty sighed, and seemed plunged
in thought.

‘“‘ But you are not going yet, my dear,” said
the queen. ‘‘Why you are not forty! And
young people will be young people. You were
quite proud when poor Dick came home with
his first brace of gigantic fierce birds, killed off
his own sword, and with such a pretty princess

’
‘IQ PRINCE RICARDO.

 

he had rescued—dear Jaqueline? 1’m sure
she is like a daughter to me. I cannot do with-
out her.”

“J wish she were a daughter-in-law ; I wish
Dick would take a fancy to marry her,” said the
king. ‘A nicer girl I never saw.”

““ And so accomplished,” added Queen Rosa-
lind. ‘That girl can turn herself into any-
thing—a mouse, a fly, a lion, a wheelbarrow,
achurch! I never knew such talent for magic.
Of course she had the best of teachers, the
Fairy Paribanou herself; but very few girls, in
our time, devote so many hours to practice as
dear Jaqueline. Even now, when she is out of
the schoolroom, she still practises her scales.
I saw her turning little Dollie into a fish and
back again in the bath-room last night. The
child was delighted.”

In these times, you must know, princesses
learned magic, just as they learn the piano
nowadays; but they had their music lessons
too, dancing, calisthenics, and the use of the
globes.

“Yes, she’s a dear, good girl,” said the king ;
‘“‘yet she looks melancholy. I believe, myself,
that if Ricardo asked her to marry him, she
would not say ‘No.’ But that’s just one of the
things I object to most in Dick. Round the
world he goes, rescuing ladies from every kind
of horror—from dragons, giants, cannibals,
magicians; and then, when a girl naturally
PRINCE RICARDO. 113

 

_ expects to be married to him, as is usual, off he
rides! He has no more heart than a flounder.
Why, at his age I——”

‘At his age, my dear, you were so hard-
hearted that you were quite a proverb. Why,
I have been told that you used to ask girls
dreadful puzzling questions, like ‘Who was
Cesar Borgia?’ ‘ What do you know of Edwin
and Morcar ?’ and so on.”

‘“‘T had not seen you then,” said the king.

«* And Ricardo has not seen her, whoever she
may be. Besides, he can’t possibly marry all
of them. And I think a girl should consider
herself lucky if she is saved from a dragon or
a giant, without expecting to be married next
day.”

‘Perhaps; but it is usual,” said the king,
“and their families expect it, and keep sending
ambassadors to know what Dick’s intentions
are. I would not mind it all so very much if
he killed the monsters off his own sword, as he
did that first brace, in fair fight. But ever
since he found his way into that closet where
the fairy presents lie, everything has been made
too easy for him. It is a royal road to glory, or
giant-slaying made easy. In his Cap of Dark-
ness a poor brute of a dragon can’t see him.
In his Shoes of Swiftness the giants can’t
catch him. His Sword of Sharpness would cut
any oak asunder at a blow!”

‘But you were very glad of them when you
_ 114 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

made the Ice-beast and the Fire-beast fight and
kill each other,” said the queen.

“Yes, my dear; but it wanted some wit, if I
may say so, to do that, and Dick just goes at it
hammer and tongs: anybody could doit. It’s.
intellect | miss in Ricardo. How am I to know
whether he could make a good fight for it with-.
out all these fairy things? I wonder what the
young rogue is about to-day? He’ll be late for
dinner, as usual, I daresay. I can’t stand want
of punctuality at meals,” remarked his Majesty,
which isa sign that he was growing old after all ;
for where is the fun of being expected always to:
come home in time for dinner when, perhaps,
you are fishing, and the trout are rising
splendidly ?

““ Young people will be young people,” said
the queen. “If you are anxious about him,
why don’t you look for him in the magic
crystal 2?”

Now the magic crystal was a fairy present, a
great ball of glass in which, if you looked, you
saw the person you wanted to see, and what he
was doing, however far away he might be, if he
was on the earth at all.*

“T’ll just take a look at it,” said the king ;
“it only wants three-quarters of an hour ‘to
dinner-time.”

His Majesty rose, and walked to the crystal

>

* You can buy these glasses now from the Psychical
Society, at half-a-crown and upwards.
PRINCE RICARDO. 115,

 

globe, which was in a stand, like other globes.
He stared into it, he turned it round and
round, and Queen Rosalind saw him grow quite
pale as he gazed.

“‘T don’t see him anywhere,” said the king,
“and I have looked everywhere. I do hope
nothing has happened to the boy. He is so
careless. If he dropped his Cap of Darkness
in a fight with a giant, why who knows what
might occur ?”

“Oh, ’Gio, how you frighten me!” said the
queen.

King Prigio was still turning the crystal
globe.

“Stop!” he cried; “I ‘see a beautiful
princess, fastened by iron chains to a rock
beside the sea, in a lonely place. They must
have fixed her up as a sacrifice to a sea-monster,
like what’s-her-name.”

This proves how anxious he was, or, being so
clever and learned, he would have remembered
that her name was Andromeda.

‘“‘T bet Dick is not far off, where there is an
adventure on hand. But where on earth can
he be? . . . My word!” suddenly exclaimed
the monarch, in obvious excitement.

‘What is it, dear?” cried the queen, with
all the anxiety of a mother.

‘Why, the sea where the girl is, has turned
all red as blood!” exclaimed the king. ‘‘ Now
it is all being churned up by the tail of a
116 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

tremendous monster. He isa whopper! He’s
coming on shore; the girl is fainting. He’s
out on shore! He is extremely poorly, blood
tushing from his open jaws. He’s dying!
And, hooray! here’s Dick coming out of his
enormous mouth, all in armour set with sharp
spikes, and a sword in his hand. He’s covered
with blood, but he’s well and hearty. He must
have been swallowed by the brute, and cut him
up inside. Now he’s cutting the beast’s head
off. Now he’s gone to the princess; a very
neat bow he has made her. Dick’s manners
are positively improving! Now he’s cutting
her iron chains off with the Sword of Sharp-
ness. And now he’s made her another bow,
and he’s actually taking leave of her. Poor
thing! How disappointed she is looking. And
she’s so pretty, too. I say, Rosalind, shall I shout
to him through the magic horn, and tell him to
bring her home here, on the magic carpet ?”

‘JT think not, dear; the palace is quite full,”
said the queen. But the real reason was that
she wanted Ricardo to marry her favourite
Princess Jaqueline, and she did not wish the
new princess to come in the way.

“ As you like,” said the king, who knew what
was in her mind very well. ‘“‘ Besides, I see
her own people: coming for her. I’m sorry
for her, but it can’t be helped, and Dick is
half-way home by now on the Shoes of
Swiftness. I daresay he will not keep dinner
PRINCE RICARDO. II7

 

waiting after all. But what a fright the boy
has given me!”

At this moment a whirring in the air and
a joyous shout were heard. It was Prince
Ricardo flying home on his Seven - league
Boots.

“Hi, Ross!” he shouted, ‘‘just weigh this
beast’s head. I’ve had a splendid day with a
sea-monster. Get the head stuffed, will you ?
We’ll have it set up in the billiard-room.”

“Yes, Master Dick—I mean your Royal
Highness,” said Ross, a Highland keeper, who
had not previously been employed by a Reign-
ing Family. ‘It’s a fine head, whatever,” he
added, meditatively.

Prince Ricardo now came beneath the library
window, and gave his parents a brief account
of his adventure.

“‘T picked the monster up early in the morn-
ing,” he said, ‘‘through the magic telescope,
father.”

“‘ What country was he in?” said the king.

“The country people whom I met called it
Ethiopia. They were niggers.”

‘“¢ And in what part of the globe is Ethiopia,
Ricardo ?”

“Oh! I don’t know. Asia, perhaps,”
answered the prince.

The king groaned.

“That boy will never understand our foreign
relations. Ethiopia in Asia!” he said to him-
 

“It’s a fine head, whatever.”
PRINCE RICARDO. IIg

 

self, but he did not choose to make any remark
at the moment.

The prince ran upstairs to dress. On the
stairs he met the Princess Jaqueline.

“Oh, Dick! are you hurt ?” she said, turning
very pale.

“No, not I; but the monster is. I hada
capital day, Jack; rescued a princess, too.”

‘“* Was she—was she very pretty, Dick?”

‘Oh! I don’t know. Pretty enough, I dare-
say. Much like other girls. Why, you look
‘quite white! What’s the matter? Now you
look all right again ;” for, indeed, the Princess
Jaqueline was blushing.

‘“T must dress. I’m ever so late,” he said,
hurrying upstairs; and the princess, with a
little sigh, went down to the royal drawing-
room.
I20 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

CHAPTER II.

Krincess Jaqueline Drinks the Moon.

HEN dinner was
over and the ladies had
left the room, the king
ax, tried to speak seriously
~ to Prince Ricardo.
This was a thing
which he disliked
doing very much.

““There’s very little
use in preaching,” his.
Majesty used to say, “to
a man, or rather a boy,
. of another generation. My

taste was for books; I only
took to adventures because I was obliged to
do it. Dick’s taste is for adventures; I only
wish some accident would make him take to
books. But everyone must get his experience for
himself; and when he has got it, he is lucky
if it is not too late. I wish I could see him in
love with some nice girl, who would keep him
at home.”

  
 
  
     

%y
PRINCE RICARDO. I2I

 

The king did not expect much from talking
seriously to Dick. - However, he began by
asking questions about the day’s sport, which
Ricardo answered with modesty. Then his
Majesty observed that, from all he had ever
read or heard, he believed Ethiopia, where the
fight was, to be in Africa, not in Asia.

“T really wish, Ricardo, that you would
attend to your geography a little more. It is
most necessary to asoldier that he should know
where his enemy is, and if he has to fight the
Dutch, for instance, not to start with his army
for Central Asia.”

*“* T could always spot them through the magic
glass, father,” said Dick; “it saves such a
lot of trouble. I hate geography.”

“But the glass might be lost or broken, or
the Fairies might take it away, and then where
are you?”

‘Oh, you would know where to go, or Mr.
Belsham.”’

. Now Mr. Belsham was his tutor, from Oxford.

“But I shall not always be here, and when

I die——”
- “Don’t talk of dying, sire,” said Dick. ‘‘ Why,
you are not so very old; you may live for years
yet. Besides, I can’t stand the notion. You
must live for ever!”

“That sentiment is unusual in a Crown
Prince,” thought the king; but he was pleased
for all that.

9
122 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

“Well, to oblige you, I’ll try to struggle
against old age,” he said; “‘ but there are always
accidents. Now, Dick, like a good fellow,
and to please me, work hard all to-morrow
till the afternoon. I’ll come in and help you.
And there’s always a splendid evening rise of
trout in the lake just now, so you can have
your play after your work, You'll enjoy it
more, and I daresay you are tired after a long
day with the big game. It used to tire me,
I remember.”

“‘I am rather tired,” said Dick; and indeed
he looked a little pale, for a day in the inside ofa
gigantic sea-monster is fatiguing, from the heat
and want of fresh air which are usually found
in such places. ‘‘I think I’ll turn in; good-
night, my dear old governor,” he said, in an
affectionate manner, though he was not usually
given to many words.

Then he went and kissed his mother and the
Princess Jaqueline, whom he engaged to row
him on the lake next evening, while he fished.

“And don’t you go muffing them with the
landing-net, Jack, as you generally do,” said
his Royal Highness, as he lit his bedroom
candle.

- “JT wish he would not call me Jack,” said the
princess to the queen.

“It’s better than Lina, my dear,” said her
Majesty, who in late life had become fond of
her littlejoke; ‘‘that always sounds. as if some-
PRINCE RICARDO. 123

 

one else was fatter,—and I hope there is not
someone else.”

The princess was silent, aad fixed her eyes
on her book.

. Presently the king came in, and played a game

with Lina at picquet. When they were all
going to bed, he said: ;
. “Just come into the study, Lina. I want
you to write a few letters for me.”

: The princess followed him and took her seat
at the writing table. The letters were very short.
One was to Herr Schnipp, tailor to the king
and royal family; another was to the royal
swordmaker, another to the bootmaker, another
to the optician, another to the tradesman who
supplied the august family with carpets and
rugs, another to his Majesty’s hatter. They
were all summoned to be at the palace early
next morning. Then his Majesty yawned, apolo-
gised, and went to bed.

_ The princess also went to her room, or bower
as it was then called, but not to sleep.

. She was unhappy that Dick did not satisfy
his father, and that he was so careless, and
also about other things.

“And why does the king want all these tailors
and hatters so suddenly, telescope-makers and
swordmakers and shoemakers, too?” she asked
herself, as she stood at the window watching
the moon.

“I could find out. I could turn myself into

Ome
“124 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

a dog ora cat, and go into the room where he
is giving his orders. But that is awkward, for
when the servants see Rip” (that was the dog)
“in two places at once, they begin to think the
palace is haunted, and it makes people talk. Be-
sides, I know it is wrong to listen to what one is
not meant to hear. It is often difficult to bea
magician and a good girl. The temptations are
so strong, stronger than most people allow for.”

So she remained, with the moon shining on
her pretty yellow hair and her white dress,
wondering what the king intended to do, and
whether it was something that Dick would not
like.

‘‘How stupid of me,” she said at length,
‘“‘after all the lessons I have had. Why, I can
‘drink the moon!”

’ Now, this is a way of knowing what anyone
else is thinking of and intends to do, for the
moon sees and knows everything. Whether it
is quite fair is another matter ; but, at all events,
it is not listening. And anyone may see that, if
you are a magician, like the Princess Jaqueline,
a great many difficult questions as to what is
right and wrong at once occur which do not
trouble other people. King Prigio’s secret, why
he sent for the tailor and the other people, was
his own secret. The princess decided that she
would not find it out by turning herself into
Rip or the cat (whose name was Semiramis),
and, so far, she was quite right. But she was
PRINCE RICARDO. 125

 

very young, and it never occurred to her that it
was just as wrong to find out what the king
meant by drinking the moon as by listening in
disguise. As she grew older she learned to
know better; but this is just the danger of
teaching young girls magic, and for that very
reason it has been given up in most countries.

However, the princess did not think about
right and wrong, unluckily. She went to the
bookcase and took down her Cornelius A grippa,
in one great tall black volume, with silver clasps
which nobody else could open; for, as the
princess said, there are books which it would
never do to leave lying about where the servants
or anybody could read them. Nobody could
undo the clasps, however strong or clever he
might be; but the princess just breathed on
them and made a sign, and the book flew open
at the right place—Book IV., chapter vi., about
the middle of page 576.

The magic spell was in Latin, of course; but
the princess knew Latin very well, and soon
she had the magic song by heart. Then she
closed the book and put it back on the shelf.
Then she threw open the window and drew
back the curtains, and put out all the lights
except two scented candles that burned with a
white fire under a round mirror with a silver
frame, opposite the window. And into that
mirror the moon shone white and full, filling
all the space of it, so that the room was
“126 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

steeped in a strange silver light. Now the
whole room seemed to sway gently, waving and
trembling; and as it trembled it sounded and
rang with a low silver music, as if it were filled
with the waves of the sea.
_ Then the princess took a great silver basin,
covered with strange black signs and figures
raised in the silver. She poured water into the
basin, and as she poured it she sang the magic
spell from the Latin book. It was something
like this, in English:

“Oh Lady Moon, on the waters riding,
_ On shining waters, in silver sheen,
Show me the secret the heart is hiding,
Show me the-truth of the thought, oh Queen !

“Oh waters white, where the moon is riding,
That knows what shall be and what has been,
Tell me the secret the heart is hiding,
Wash me the truth of it, clear and clean!”’

As she sang the water in the silver basin foamed
and bubbled, and then fell still again; and the
princess knelt in the middle of the room, and
the moon and the white light from the mirror
of the moon fell in the water.

. Then the princess raised the basin, and
stooped her mouth to it and drank the water;
spilling a few drops, and so she drank the moon
and the knowledge of the moon. Then the moon
was darkened without a cloud, and there was
darkness in the sky for a time, and all the dogs
wy Beye CEL: z, So
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be IIE

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The Princess drinks the Moon.
128 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

in the world began to howl. When the moon
shone again, the princess rose and put out the
two white lights, and drew the curtains; and
presently she went to bed.

“* Now I knowall about it,” she said. ‘‘ It is
clever; everything the king does is clever, and
he is so kind that I daresay he does not mean
any harm. But it seemsa cruel trick to play on
poor Ricardo. However, Jaqueline is on the
watch, and I’ll show them a girl can do more
than people think,’’—as, indeed, she could.

After meditating in this way, the princess fell
asleep, and did not waken till her maid came
to call her.

“Oh! your Royal Highness, what’s this on
the floor ?”’ said the faithful Rosina, as she was
arranging the princess’s things for her to get up.

‘* Why, what is it ?”? asked the princess.

‘‘Ever so many—four, five, six, seven—little
shining drops of silver lying on the carpet, as
if they had melted and fallen there!”

‘“They have not hurt the carpet?” said the
princess. “Oh dear! the queen won’t be
pleased at all. It was a little chemical experi-
ment I was trying last night.”

But she knew very well that she must have
dropped seven drops of the enchanted water.

“No, your Royal Highness, the carpet is not
harmed,” said Rosina; ‘only your Royal
Highness should do these things in the labora-
tory. Her Majesty has often spoke about it.”
PRINCE RICARDO. 129

 

“You are quite right,” said the princess;
“but as there is no harm done, we'll say
nothing about it this time. And, Rosina, you
"may keep the silver drops for yourself.”

~ “Your Royal Highness is always very kind,”
said Rosina, which was true; but how much better
and wiser it is not to begin to deceive! We
never know how far we may be carried, and so
Jaqueline found out.

For when she went down to breakfast, there
was the king in a great state of excitement, for
him.

‘It’s most extraordinary,” said his Majesty.

‘What is?” asked the queen.

“Why, didn’t you notice it? No, you had
gone to bed before it happened. But I was
taking a walk in the moonlight, on the balcony,
and I observed it carefully.”

‘Observed what, my dear ?”’ asked the queen,
‘who was pouring out the tea.

“‘Didn’t you see it, Dick? Late as usual, you
young dog!” the king. remarked as Ricardo
entered the room.

“‘See what, sir?’’ said Dick.

‘‘Oh, you were asleep hours before, now I
think of it! But it was the most extraordinary
thing, an unpredicted eclipse of the moon!
You must have noticed it, Jaqueline; you sat
up later. How the dogs howled!”

“No; I mean yes,” murmured poor Jaque-
line, who of course had caused the whole affair
_ 130 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

‘by her magic arts, but who had forgotten, in
the excitement of the moment, that an eclipse
of the moon, especially if entirely unexpected,
is likely to attract very general attention.
Jaqueline could not bear to tell a fib, especially
to a king who had been so kind to her; besides,
fibbing would not alter the facts.

‘Yes, I did see it,” she admitted, blushing.
‘* Had it not been predicted ?”

“Not a word about it whispered anywhere,”
‘said his Majesty. ‘I looked up the almanack
at once. It is the most extraordinary thing I
ever saw, and I’ve’seen a good many.”

‘“‘The astronomers must be duffers,” said
Prince Ricardo. ‘‘I never thought there was
much in ‘physical science of any sort; most
dreary stuff. Why, they say the earth goes
round the sun, wilonces any fool can see it is
just the other way on.’

King Prigio was strike ee by these
sentiments in the mouth of his son and heir,
the hope of Pantouflia. But what was the king
to say inreply? The astronomers of Pantou-
flia, who conceived that they knew a great deal,
had certainly been taken by surprise this time.
Indeed, they have not yet satisfactorily ex-
plained this eclipse of the moon, though they
have written volumes about it.

‘“Why, it may be the sun next!” exclaimed his
Majesty. ‘Anything may happen. The very
laws of gravitation themselves may go askew!”
PRINCE RICARDO. 131

 

At this moment the butler, William, who had
been in the queen’s family when she was a girl,
entered, and announced:

‘Some of the royal tradesmen, by appoint-
ment, to see your Majesty.”

So the king, who had scarcely eaten any
breakfast, much to the annoyance of the queen,
who was not agitated by eclipses, went out and
joined the tailors and the rest of them.
132 PRINCE RICARDO. .

 

CHAPTER III.

The Adventure ue the repens

  
  
 
   
   
 

sICK went on with his
breakfast. He ate cold .
pastry, and poached
eggs, and ham, and
rolls, and raspberry jam, and
hot cakes; and he drank two
cups of coffee. Mean-
while the king had joined
the tradesmen who attended
Y by his orders. They were all
met in the royal study, where

the king made them a most
- splendid bow, and _ requested

them to be seated. But they
declined to sit in his sacred presence, and
the king observed that, in that case he must
stand up.

‘““T have invited you here, gentlemen,’ he
said, ‘‘on a matter of merely private import-
ance, but I must request that you will be entirely
silent as to the nature of your duties. It is
difficult, I know, not to talk about one’s work,
but in this instance I am sure you will oblige me.”
PRINCE RICARDO. 133

 

“Your Majesty has only to command,” said
Herr Schnipp. ‘‘There have been monarchs, in
neighbouring kingdoms, who would have cut off.
all our heads after we had done a bit of secret
business; but the merest word of your Majesty
is law to your loving subjects.”

The other merchants murmured assent, for
King Prigio was really liked by his people. He
was always good-tempered and polite. He never
went to war with anybody. He spent most of
the royal income on public objects, and of course .
there were scarcely any taxes to speak of.
Moreover, he had abolished what is called
compulsory education, or making everybody go
to school whether he likes it or not; a most
mischievous and tyrannical measure! ‘A’
fellow who can’t teach himself to read,” said
the king, ‘‘is not worth teaching.”

For all these reasons, and because they were
so fond of the queen, his subjects were ready
to do anything in reason for King Prigio.

. Only one tradesman, bowing very deep and
blushing very much, said:

“Your Majesty, will you hear me for one
moment ?”

“For an hour, with pleasure, Herr Schmidt,”
said the monarch.

“Tt is an untradesman-like and an unusual
thing to decline an order; and if your Majesty
asked for my heart’s blood, I am ready to shed
it, not to speak of anything in the line of my
134. PRINCE RICARDO.

 

business—namely, boot and shoe making. But
keep a secret from-my. wife, I fairly own to
your Majesty that I can wot.”

Herr Schmidt went down on his knees and
wept.

“ Rise, Herr Schmidt,” said the king, taking
him by the hand. ‘A more honourable and
chivalrous confession of an amiable weakness,
if it is to be called a weakness, I never heard.
Sir, you have been true to your honour and
your prince, in face of. what few men can bear,
the chance of ridicule. There is no one here,
I hope, but respects and will keep the secret of
Herr Schmidt’s confession?”

The assembled shopkeepers could sche)
refrain from tears.

‘Long live King Prigio the Good!” they,
exclaimed, and vowed that everything should
be kept dark.

“‘ Indeed, sire,’ said the swordmaker, “all
the rest of us are bachelors.”

“That is none the worse for my purpose,
gentlemen,” said his Majesty; ‘‘but I trust
that you will not long deprive me of sons
and subjects worthy to succeed to such
fathers. And now, if Herr Schmidt will
kindly find his way to the buttery, where
refreshments are ready, I shall have the
pleasure of conducting you to the scene of
your labours.”

Thus speaking, the king, with another magni-
 

 

 

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Hery Schinidt went down on his knees.

 
136 PRINCE RICARDO.

ficent bow, led the way upstairs to a little
turret-room, in a deserted part of the palace.
Bidding the tradesmen enter, he showed them
a large collection of miscellaneous things: an
old cap or two, a pair of boots of a sort long
out of fashion, an old broadsword, a shabby
old Persian rug, an ivory spyglass, and other
articles. These were, in fact, the fairy
presents, which had been given to the
king at his christening, and by aid of
which (and his natural acuteness) he had,
in his youth, succeeded in many remarkable
adventures.

The caps were the Wishing Cap and the Cap
of Darkness. The rug was the famous carpet
which carried its owner through the air where-
ever he wished to go. The sword was the
Sword of Sharpness. The ivory glass showed
you anyone you wanted to see, however far off.
The boots were the Seven-league Boots, which
Hop-o’-my-Thumb stole from the Ogre about
1697. There were other valuable objects, but
these were the most useful and celebrated. Of
course the king did not tell the tradesmen what
they were.

““Now, gentlemen,” said his Majesty, ‘you
see these old things. For reasons which I
must ask you to excuse me for keeping to
myself, I wish you to provide me with objects
exactly and precisely similar to these, with all
the look of age.”
PRINCE RICARDO. 137

 

The tradesmen examined the objects, each
choosing that in his own line of business.

“As to the sword, sire,” said the cutler, “it
is an Andrea Ferrara, a fine old blade. By a
lucky accident, I happen to have one at home,
in a small collection of ancient weapons, exactly
like it. This evening it shall be at your Majesty’s
disposal.”

“Perhaps, Herr Schnitzler, you will kindly
write an order for it, as I wish no one of you
to leave the palace, if you can conveniently
stay, till your business is finished.”

“With pleasure, your Majesty,” says the cutler.

““As to the old rug,” said the upholsterer,
““T have a Persian one quite identical with it
at home, at your Majesty’s service.”

‘Then you can do like Herr Schnitzler,” who
was the cutler.

‘And I,” said the hatter, ‘‘ have two old caps
just like these, part of a bankrupt theatrical
stock.”

“We are most fortunate,” said the king.
“The boots, now I come to think of it, are
unimportant, at least for the present. Perhaps
we can borrow a pair from the theatre.”

“As for the glass,” said the optician, “if
your Majesty will allow me to take it home
with me i

‘“‘T am afraid I cannot part with it,” said the
king ; ‘but that, too, is unimportant, or not
very pressing.”

 

Io
138 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

Then he called for a servant, to order luncheon
for the shopkeepers, and paper for them to write
their orders on. But no one was within hearing,
and in that very old part of the palace there
were no bells.

“Just pardon me for an instant, while I run
downstairs,” said his Majesty; ‘‘and, it seems
a strange thing to ask, but may I advise you
not to sit down on that carpet? I have a
reason for it.”

In fact, he was afraid that someone might

sit down on it, and wish he was somewhere
else, and be carried away, as was the nature of
the carpet.
_ King Prigio was not absent a minute, for he
met William on the stairs; but when he came
back, there was not one single person in the
turret-room !

“Where on earth are they?” cried the
king, rushing through all the rooms in that
part. of the castle. He shouted for them,
and looked everywhere; but there was not a
trace of tailor, hatter, optician, swordmaker,
upholsterer.

The king hastened to a window over the gate,
and saw the sentinels on duty.

‘* Hi!” he called.

And the sentinels turned round, looked up,
and saluted.

‘‘ Have you seen anyone go out?” he cried.

‘“ No one, sire,” answered the soldiers.
PRINCE RICARDO. 139

 

The king, who began to guess what had
happened, hurried back to the turret-room.

There were all the tradesmen with parcels
under their arms.

‘“What means this, gentlemen?” said his
Majesty, severely. ‘‘ For what reason did you
leave the room without my permission ?”’

They all knelt down, humbly imploring his
compassion.

“Get up, you donkeys!” said the king, for-
getting his politeness. ‘‘Get up, and tell me
where you have been hiding yourselves.”

The hatter came forward, and said:

‘Sire, you will not believe me; indeed, I can
scarcely believe it myself!”

‘“Nor none of us can't,’ said the sword-
maker. “‘We have been home, and brought
the articles. All orders executed with punctu-
ality and dispatch,” he added, quoting his own
advertisement without thinking of it.

On this the swordmaker took out and ex-
hibited the Andrea Ferrara blade, which was
exactly like the Sword of Sharpness.

The upholsterer undid his parcel, and there
was a Persian rug, which no one could tell from
the magical carpet.

The hatter was fumbling with the string of
his parcel, when he suddenly remembered, what
the king in his astonishment had not noticed,
that he had a cap on himself. He pulled it off
in a hurry, and the king at once saw that it was

Io *
.I40 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

his Wishing Cap, and understood all about the
affair. The hatter, in his absence, had tried on
the Wishing Cap, and had wished that he him-
self and his friends were all at home and back
again with their wares at the palace. And what
he wished happened, of course, as was natural.

In a moment the king saw how much talk
this business would produce in the country, and
he decided on the best way to stop it.

Seizing the Wishing Cap, he put it on, wished
all the tradesmen, including the shoemaker,
back in the town at their shops, and also
wished that none of them should remember
anything about the whole affair.

In a moment he was alone in the turret-room.
As for the shopkeepers, they had a kind of idea
that they had dreamed something odd; but, as
it went no further, of course they did not talk
about it, and nobody was any the wiser.

“Owl that I am!” said King Prigio to him-
self. ‘I might have better wished for a
complete set of sham fairy things which would
not work. It would have saved a great deal
of trouble; but Iam so much out of the habit
of using the cap, that I never thought of it.
However, what I have got will do very well.”

Then, putting on the Cap of Darkness, that
nobody might see him, he carried all the real
fairy articles away, except the Seven-league
Boots, to his own room, where he locked them
up, leaving in their place the sham Wishing
PRINCE RICARDO. I4t

 

Cap, the sham Cap of Darkness, the sham
Sword of Sharpness, and the carpet which was
not a magic carpet at all.

His idea was, of course, that Ricardo would
start on an expedition confiding in his fairy
things, and he would find that they did not act.
Then he would be left to his own cleverness
and courage to get him out of the scrape.
That would teach him, thought the king, to
depend on himself, and to set a proper value
on cleverness and learning, and minding his
book.

Of course he might have locked the things
up, and forbidden Ricardo to touch them, but
that might have seemed harsh. And, as you
may easily imagine, with all the powers at his
command, the king fancied he could easily
rescue Ricardo from any very serious danger
at the hands of giants or magicians or mon-
sters. He only wanted to give him a fright or
two, and make him respect the judgment of
older and wiser people than himself.
142 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

CHAPTER IVs
Iwo Lectures.

"QR several days Prince

Ricardo minded his books,
and, according to his tutors, made
considerable progress in polite learning.
Perhaps he ought not to be praised too
Fl . highly for this, because, in fact, he saw
no means of distinguishing himself by
adventures just at that time. Every
_ morning he would climb the turret
Y and sweep the horizon,
“and even much beyond
the horizon, with the
ivory spy-glass. But look as
he would, he saw no monsters
preying on human-kind any
where, nor princesses in dis-
tress. To be sure he saw
plenty of poor people in distress, and, being
a good-hearted, though careless, lad, Dick
would occasionally fly off with the Purse of
Fortunatus in his pocket, and give them as
much money as they needed—it cost him
nothing. But this was not the kind of adven-

   
    
 
  
 
 
   
PRINCE RICARDO. 143

 

ture which he enjoyed. Dragons for his
money !

One day the Princess Jaqueline took a curious
plan of showing Ricardo how little interest,
after all, there is in performing the most won-
derful exploits without any real difficulty or
danger. They were drifting before a light
breeze on a hill lake; Ricardo was fishing, and
Jaqueline was sculling a stroke now and then,
just to keep the boat right with the wind.
Ricardo had very bad sport, when suddenly the
trout began to rise all over the lake. Dick got
excited, and stumbled about the boat from stern
to bow, tripping over Jaqueline’s feet, and
nearly upsetting the vessel in his hurry to
throw his flies over every trout he saw feeding.
But, as too often occurs, they were taking one
particular fly which was on the water, and would
look at nothing else.

‘Oh, bother them!” cried Ricardo. ‘I
can’t find a fly in my book in the least like that
little black one they are feeding on!”

He tried half-a-dozen different fly-hooks,
but all to no purpose; he lost his temper,
got his tackle entangled in Jaqueline’s hair
and then in the landing-net; and, though
such a big boy, he was nearly crying with
vexation.

The Princess Jaqueline, with great pains and
patience, disentangled the casting line, first from
her hair, which Ricardo was anxious to cut (the
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Drifting before a light breeze.
PRINCE RICARDO. I45

 

great stupid oaf,—her pretty hair!) then from
the landing-net; but Dick had grown sulky.

“It’s no use,” he said; ‘‘I have not a fly
that will suit. Let’s go home,” and he threw
a tin can at a rising trout.

“Now, Dick,” said Jaqueline, “‘ you know I
can help you. I did not learn magic for nothing.
Just you look the other way for a minute or two,
and you will find the right fly at the end of your
line.”

Dick turned his head away (it is not proper
to look on at magical arts), and then in a
moment, saw the right hook on his cast;
but Jaqueline was not in the boat. She had
turned herself into an artificial fly (a small
black gnat), and Dick might set to his sport
again.

“What a trump that girl is,” he said aloud.
“Clever, too!” and he began casting. He got
a trout every cast, great big ones, over a pound,
and soon he had a basketful. But he began to
feel rather bored.

‘‘There’s not much fun taking them,” he
said, ‘‘when they are so silly.”

At that very moment he noticed that the fly
was off his cast, and Jaqueline was sitting at
the oars.

“You see, Ricardo,” she said, ‘‘I was right
after all. There is not much pleasure in
sport that is easy and certain. Now, apply
this moral to dragon-killing with magic in-

’
146 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

struments. It may be useful when one is
obliged to defend oneself, but surely a prince
ought not to give his whole time to nothing
else!”

Dick had no answer ready, so he only
grumbled :

“‘You’re always preaching at me, Jack;
everybody alwaysis. Iseem to have been born
just to be preached at.”

Some people are; and it does grow rather
tedious in the long run. But perhaps what
Jaqueline said may have made some impres-
sion on Ricardo, for he stuck to his books for
weeks, and was got into decimal fractions and
Euclid.

All this, of course, pleased the king very
much, and he began to entertain hopes of
Ricardo’s becoming a wise and learned prince,
and a credit to his illustrious family.

Things were not always to go smoothly, far
from it; and it was poor Jaqueline who fell into.
trouble next. She had been very ready to
lecture Dick, as we saw, and took a good deal
of credit to herself for his steadiness. . But
one day King Prigio happened to meet Jaque-
line’s maid, Rosina, on the stairs; and as Rosina
was a pretty girl, and the king was always kind
to his dependents, he stopped to have a chat
with her.

“Why, Rosina, what a pretty little silver
cross you are wearing,” he said, and he lifted a
PRINCE RIGARDO. 147

 

curious ornament which hung from a chain on
Rosina’s neck. It consisted of seven drops of
silver, set like this:

°
oooo0°0
°

“May I look at it?” his Majesty asked, and
Rosina, all in a flutter, took it off and gave it
to him. “H’m!” said the king. ‘“ Very
curious and pretty! May I ask you where
you got this, Rosina?”

Now Rosina generally had her answer ready,
and I am very sorry to say that she did not
always speak the truth when she could think of
anything better. On this occasion she was
anxious to think of something better, for fear
of getting Jaqueline into a scrape about the
chemical experiment in her bedroom. But
Rosina was fluttered, as we said, by the royal
kindness, and she could think of nothing but
to curtsy, and say:

“‘ Please, your Majesty, the princess gave me
the drops.”

‘Very interesting,” said the king. ‘‘ There
is a little white moon shining in each of them !
I wonder if they shine in the dark ?”’

He opened the door of a cupboard which had
no windows, where the housemaid kept her mops
and brooms, and shut himself in. Yes, there was
 

“Em!” said the king. ‘Very curious and pretty!”
PRINCE RICARDO. I49

 

no mistake; the darkness was quite lighted up
with the sheen of the seven little moons in the
silver. The king looked rather grave.

“Tf you can trust me with this cross till to-
morrow, Rosina, I should like to have it ex-
amined and analysed. This is no common
silver.”

Of course Rosina could only curtsy, but she
was very much alarmed about the consequences
to her mistress.

After luncheon, the king asked Jaqueline to
come into his study, as he often did, to help
him with his letters. When they had sat down,
his Majesty said:

‘“My dear Jaqueline, I never interfere with
your pursuits, but I almost doubt whether
Cornelius Agrippa is a good book for a very
young lady to read. The Fairy Paribanou, I
am sure, taught you nothing beyond the
ordinary magical accomplishments suited to
your rank; but there are a great many things
in the Cornelius which I think you should
not study till you are older and wiser.”

“What does your Majesty mean ?”’ said poor
Jaqueline, feeling very uncomfortable; for the
king had never lectured her before.

“Why,” said his Majesty, taking the silver
cross out of his pocket, ‘‘ did you not give this to
Rosina?”

“Yes, sire, I did give her the drops. She
had them made up herself.”
150 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

“Then give it back to her when you see her
next. J am glad you are frank, Jaqueline.
And you know, of course, that the drops are
not ordinary silver? They are moon silver,
and that can only be got in one way, so far as
I know, at least—when one spills the water
when he, or she, is drinking the moon. .Now,
there is only one book which tells how.that can
be done, and there is only one reason for doing
it; namely, to find out what.is some other
person’s secret. I shall not ask you whose secret
you wanted to find out, but I must request you
never to do such a thing again without con-
sulting me. You can have no reason for it,
such as a great king might have whose
enemies are plotting against his country.”

“Oh, sire, I will tell you everything!” cried
Jaqueline.

“No, don’t; I don’t want to know. I am
sure you will make no use of your informa-
tion which you think I should not approve
of. But there is .another thing — that
eclipse of the moon! Oh, Jaqueline, was
it honourable, or fair to the astronomers
and men of science, to say nothing about
it? Their European reputations are seriously
injured.”

Poor Jaqueline could ‘only cry.

“Never mind,” said his Majesty, comforting
her. ‘‘There is no great harm done yet, and
perhaps they would not believe you if you did -
PRINCE RICARDO. I51

 

explain; but just think, if some people ceased
to believe in Science,‘what would they have left.
to believe in? But you are young, of course,
and cannot be expected to think of every-
thing.”

“T never thought about it at all,’ wept
Jaqueline.

“*Evil is wrought by want of thought,
said the king, quoting the poet. ‘‘Now run
away, dry your tears, and I think you had
better bring me that book, and I’ll put it back
in one of the locked-up shelves. Later, when
you are older, we shall see about it.”

The princess flew to her room, and returned
with her book. And the king kissed her, and
told her to go and see if her Majesty meant to
take a drive.

- “J’ll never deceive fe again, never

unless it is quite necessary,” said the princess
to herself. ‘‘ Indeed, it is not.so easy to deceive
the king. What.a lot he has read!”

In fact, King Prigio had been very studious
when a young man, before he came to the
throne.

. “Poor child!’ thought the king. ‘No
doubt she was trying her fortune, wondering
if Ricardo cares for her alittle. Of course
I could not let. her tell me that, poor
child!”

In this guess, as we know, ns Majesty was
mistaken, which seldom happened to him.

999
152 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

‘*T wonder who she is?” the king went on,
speaking to himself. ‘That great booby,
Ricardo, saved her from wild birds, which were
just going to eat her. She was fastened to a
mountain top, but where? that’s the question.
Ricardo never has any notion of geography. It
was across the sea, he noticed that; but which’
sea,—Atlantic, Pacific, the Black Sea, the
Caspian, the Sea of Marmora, the Red Sea, the
Indian Ocean, the German Ocean, the Mediter-
ranean? Her ornaments were very peculiar ;
there was a broad gold sun on her breast.
I must look at them again some day. She
said she was being sacrificed to wild birds
(which her people worshipped), because there
was some famine, or war, or trouble in the
country. She said she was a Daughter of the
Sun; but that, of course, is absurd, unless——
By Jove! I believe I have it,” said the king,

-and he went into the royal library and was
looking for some old Spanish book, when his
secretary came and said that the Russian
Ambassador was waiting for an interview with
his Majesty.

“Dismal old Muscovite!”’ sighed the king.
‘*A monarch has not a moment to himself for
his private studies. Ah, Prigio! why wert thou
not borntoa private station? But Duty before
everything,” and wreathing his royal counte-
nance in smiles, his Majesty prepared to give
Count Snoreonski an audience.
PRINCE RICARDO. 153

 

It was all about the attitude of Pantouflia in
the event of a Polish invasion of Russia. The
king reassured Count Snoreonski, affirming that
Pantouflia, while deeply regretting the disturbed
relations between two States in whose welfare
she was deeply interested, would ever preserve
an attitude of benevolent neutrality, unless her
own interests were threatened.

*“‘T may give your message to my august
mistress, the Czarina?’ said the ambas-
sador.

“* By all means, adding an expression of my
tender interest in her Majesty’s health and wel-
fare,” said the king, presenting the count at the
same time with a magnificent diamond snuff box
containing his portrait.

The old count was affected to tears, and
withdrew, while King Prigio said:

“T have not lost a day; I have made an
amiable but very stupid man happy.”

Such are, or rather such were, the toils of
monarchs !

II
. 154 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

CHAPTER V.

Prince Ricardo Grosses the Path of History.

SAY, Jack,” said Prince
Ricardo one morning, ‘‘here’s
a queer letter for me!”

King Prigio had gone to a
Zr distant part of his domin-
ions, on business of impor-
tance, and the young people
were sitting in the royal study.
The letter, which
Z Ricardo handed to
aa Jaqueline, was writ-
ten on a great broad
sheet of, paper, folded
up without any en-
velope, as was the
custom then, and was
sealed with a huge seal in
J red wax.
es “‘T don’t know the arms,” Ricardo

said.

“Oh, Ricardo, how you do neglect your
Heraldry! Old Green Stocking is in despair
over your ignorance.”

 
 
  
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
PRINCE RICARDO. 155

 

Now Green Stocking was the chief herald of
Pantouflia, just like Blue Mantle in England.

‘* Why, these are the Royal Arms of England,
you great ignorant Dick!”

‘But Rome isn’t in England, is it >—and
the post-mark is ‘Roma’: that’s Rome in
some lingo, I expect. It is in Latin, anyhow,
I know. Mortwus est Rome —‘He died at
Rome.’ It’s in the Latin Grammar. Let’s
see what the fellow says, anyhow,” added
Ricardo, breaking the seal.

“‘He begins, ‘Prins and dear Cousin!’ I
say, Jaqueline, he spells it ‘Prins;’ now it is
P-R-1-n-c-E. He must be an ignorant fellow!”

‘‘People in glass houses should not throw
stones, Dick,” said Jaqueline.

‘‘He signs himself ‘ Charles, P. W.,’” said
Ricardo, looking at the end. ‘‘ Who on earth
can he be? Why does he not put ‘P. W.
Charles,’ if these are his initials? Look here,
it’s rather a long letter; you might read it to
us, Jack!”

The princess took the epistle and began:

‘How nice it smells, all scented! The paper
is gilt-edged, too.”

‘“‘Luxurious beggar, whoever he is,” said
Ricardo.

“Well, he says: ‘ Prins and dear Cousin,—
You and me’ (oh, what grammar!) ‘are much
the same age, I being fifteen next birthday, and
we should be better ackwainted. All the wurld

TT
156 PRINCE RICARDO.

has herd of the fame of Prins Ricardo, whose
name is feerd, and his sord dreded, wherever
there are Monsters and Tirants. Prins, you
may be less well informed about my situation.
I have not killed any Dragguns, there being nun
of them here; but I have been under fiar, at
Gaeta.’ Where’s Gaeta, Dick?”

“‘ Never heard of it,” said Ricardo.

“Well, it is in Italy, and it was besieged
lately. He goes on: ‘and I am told that I did
not misbehave myself, nor disgrace the blud of
Bruce.’””

““T’ve heard of Robert Bruce,” said Dick;
“he was the man who did not kill the spider,
but he cracked the head of Sir Harry Bohun
with one whack of his axe. I remember him
well enough.”

“Well, your correspondent seems to be a
descendant of his.”

“That’s getting more interesting,” said
Dick. “I wish my father would go to war
with somebody. With the Sword of Sharpness
I’d make the enemy whistle! Drive on, Jack.”

“As a prins in distress, I apeal to your
valler, so renouned in Europe: I am kept out
of my own; my royal father, King Gems,’—
well, this is the worst spelling I ever sawin my
life! He means King Fames,— ‘my royal
father, King Gems, being druv into exile by a
crewl Usurper, the Elector of Hannover.
King Gems is old, and likes a quiat life; but I
PRINCE RICARDO. 157

 

am determined to make an effort, if I go alone,
and Europe shall here of Prince Charles.
Having heard—as who has not ?—of your royal
Highness’s courage and sordsmanship, I throw
myself at your feet, and implore you to asist
a prins in distres. Let our sords be drawn
together in the caus of freedom and an out-
raged country, my own.
“¢*T remain,
“** Prins and dear Cuzen,
“© CHARLES, P. W..’

““P, W. means Prince of Wales,’’ added
Jaqueline. ‘He is turned out of England, you
know, and lives at Rome with his father.”

“‘T like that chap,” said Prince Ricardo.
‘He does not spell very well, as you say, but
I sometimes make mistakes myself; and I
like his spirit. I’ve been looking out for an
adventure; but the big game is getting shy,
and my sword rusts in his scabbard. Ill tell
you what, Jack—I’ve an idea! I’ll put him on
the throne of his fathers; it’s as easy as
shelling peas: and as for that other fellow, the
Elector, I’ll send him back to Hanover,
wherever that may be, and he can go on
electing, and polling his vote in peace and
quietness, at home. Just wait till I spot the
places.”

The prince ran up to the turret, fetched the
magic spy-glass, and looked up London, Rome,
and Hanover, as you would in a map.
158 PRINCE RICARDO.

‘Well, Dick, but how do you mean to
do it?”

“Do it ?—nothing simpler! I just take my
Seven-league Boots, run over to Rome, pick up
Prince Charles, put him on the magic carpet,
ily to London, clap the Cap of Darkness on
him so that nobody can see him, set him
down on the throne of his fathers; pick
up the Elector, carry him over to his beloved
‘Hanover, and the trick is done—what they
call a bloodless revolution in the history
books.”

“But if the English don’t like Prince
Charles when they get him?”

“Like him? they’re sure to like him, a
young fellow like that! Besides, I’ll take the
sword with me in case of accidents.”

“But, Dick, it is your father’s rule that you
are never to meddle in the affairs of other
countries, and never to start on an expedition
when he is not at home.”’

“Oh, he won’t mind this time! There’s .
no kind of danger; and I’m sure he will
approve of the principle of the thing. Kings
must stick up for each other. Why, some
electing characters might come here and kick
us out!”

“Your father is not the sort of king who is
kicked out,” said Jaqueline.

But there was no use in talking to Dick.
He made his simple preparations, and an-
PRINCE RICARDO. 159

 

nounced that he would be back in time for
luncheon.

What was poor Jaqueline to do?

She was extremely anxious. She knew, as
we saw, what King Prigio had intended about
changing the fairy things for others that would
not work. She was certain Dick would get
himself into a scrape; how was she to help
him? She made up her mind quickly, while
Dick was putting his things together. She
told the queen (it was the nearest to the truth
she could think of) that she ‘‘ was going for a
turn with Dick.” Then she changed herself into
a mosquito—a kind of gnat that bites—and
hid herself under a fold of Dick’s coat. Of
course he knew nothing about her being there.
Then he started off in his Seven-league Boots,
and before you could say ‘“‘ Jack Robinson”
he was in Rome, in the grounds of a splendid
palace called the Villa Borghese.

There he saw an elderly gentleman, ina great
curled wig, sound asleep on a seat beneath a
tree. The old gentleman had a iong, pale,
melancholy face, and across his breast was a
broad blue ribbon with a star. Ah! how
changed was King James from the handsome
Prince who had loved fair Beatrix Esmond,
thirty years ago! Near him were two
boys, not quite so old as Prince Ricardo.
The younger was a pretty dark boy, with a
funny little roundabout white wig. He was
160 PRINCE RICCARDO.

 

 

splendidly dressed in a light-blue silk coat; a
delicate little lace scarf was tied round his neck;
he had lace ruffles falling about his little ringed
hands; he had a pretty sword, with a gold
handle set with diamonds—in fact, he was the
picture of a little dandy. The other lad hada
broad Scotch bonnet on, and no wig; beautiful
silky yellow locks fell about his shoulders. He
had laid his sword on the grass. He was
dressed in tartan, which Ricardo had never
seen before; and he wore a kilt, which was also
new to Ricardo, who wondered at his bare legs—
for he was wearing shoes with no stockings.
In his hand he held a curious club, with a long,
slim handle, and a head made heavy with lead,
and defended with horn. With this he was
aiming at a little white ball; and suddenly he
swung up the club and sent the ball out of
sight in the air, over several trees.

Prince Ricardo stepped up to this boy, took
off his cap, and said:

‘J think I have the honour of addressing
the Prince of Wales?”

Prince Charles started at the sight of a
gentleman in long riding-boots, girt with a
broadsword, which was not then generally
worn, and carrying a Persian rug under his
arm.

“That is what I am called, sir,” he said,
“‘by those who give me the title which is
mine by right. May I inquire the reason
PRINCE RICARDO. 161

 

which offers me the pleasure of this unexpected
interview ?”’

‘* Oh, I’m Ricardo of Pantouflia!” says Dick.
‘**T had a letter from you this morning, and I
believe you wanted to see me.”

“From Pantouflia, sir,’’ said Prince Charles;
‘‘why, that is hundreds of leagues away!”

“Tt is a good distance,” said Dick; “‘ but a
mere step when you wear Seven-league Boots,
like mine.”

‘‘My dear prince,” said Charles, throwing
himself into his arms with rapture, and kissing
him in the Italian fashion, which Dick did not
half like, ‘you are, indeed, worthy of your
reputation ; and these are the celebrated Seven-
league Boots? Harry,” he cried to his brother,
‘“come here at once and let me present you to
his Royal Highness, our illustrious ally, Prince
Ricardo of Pantouflia. The Duke of York—
Prince Ricardo of Pantouflia. Gentlemen,
know each other!”

The prince bowed in the most stately manner.

“TI say,” said Dick, who was seldom at all
up to the standard of royal conversation,
“‘what’s that: game you were playing? It’s
new to me. You sent the ball a tremendous
long shot.”

‘‘The game is called golf, and is the favourite
pastime of my loyal Scottish subjects,’ said
Prince Charles. ‘‘ For that reason, that I may
be able to share the amusements of my people,
162 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

whom I soon hope to lead to a glorious victory,
followed by a peaceful and prosperous reign, I
am acquiring a difficult art. I’m practising
walking without stockings, too, to harden my
feet,’ he said, in a more familiar tone of voice.
“TI fancy there are plenty of long marches
before me, and I would not be a spear’s length
behind the hardiest Highlander.”

“By Jove! I respect you,” said Dick,
with the greatest sincerity; “but I don’t
think, with me on your side, you will need
to make many marches. It will all be plain
sailing.”

“Pray explain your plan,” said Prince
Charles. ‘The task of conquering back the
throne of my fathers is not so simple as you
seem to suppose.”

““T’ve done a good many difficult things,”
said Dick, modestly.

“The conqueror of the magician, Gorgon-
zola, and the Giant Who never Knew when
he had Enough, need not tell me that,”
said Prince Charles, with a courteous allusion
to two of Ricardo’s most prodigious adven-
tures.

“Oh! I’ve very little to be proud of, really,”
said Dick, blushing; ‘‘anyone could do as
much with my fairy things, of which, no doubt,
you have heard. With a Sword of Sharpness
and a Cap of Darkness, and so forth, you have
a great pull over almost anything.”
PRINCE RICARDO. 163

“And you really possess those talismans ?”’
said the prince.

“Certainly I do. You see how short a
time I took in coming to your call from
Pantouflia.”’

‘**And has Holy Church,” asked the Duke of
York, with anxiety, “given her sanction and
her blessing to those instruments of an art,
usually, in her wisdom, forbidden ?”’

“Oh, never mind Holy Church, Harry!”
said Prince Charles. ‘‘ This is buszwess. Besides,
the English are Protestants.”

“‘T pray for their conversion daily,” said the
Duke of York.

‘‘ The end justifies the means, you know,”
answered Prince Charles. ‘‘All’s fair in love
and war.”

‘‘T should think so,” said Ricardo, ‘‘ especially
against those brutes of Electors; they give
trouble at home sometimes.”

“You, too, are plagued with an Elector?”
asked Prince Charles.

‘“‘ An Elector? thousands of them!” answered
Dick, who never could understand anything
about politics.

Prince Charles looked puzzled, but requested
Dick to explain his great plan.

They sat down on the grass, and Ricardo
showed them how he meant to manage it, just
as he had told Jaqueline. As he said, nothing
could be simpler.
164 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

“ Let’s start at once,” he said, and, inducing
Prince Charles to sit down on the magic.
carpet, he cried:

“England! St. James’s Palace!”

But nothing happened !

The carpet was not the right magic carpet, but
the one which King Prigio had put in its place.
“Get on! England, I said!” cried Dick.

But there they remained, under the chestnut
tree, sitting on the carpet above the flowery
grass.

Prince Charles leaped to his feet; his face
like fire, his eyes glowing.

‘“‘ Enough of this fooling, sir!’’ hesaid. “‘It
is easy, but cowardly, to mock at an unfortunate
prince. Take your carpet and be off with you,
out of the gardens, or your shoulders shall
taste my club.”

“There has been some mistake,” Ricardo
said; ‘the wrong carpet has been brought
by accident, or the carpet has lost its power.”

‘Tn this sacred city, blessed by the presence
of his Holiness the Pope, and the relics of so
many martyrs and saints, magic may well cease
to be potent,” said the Duke of York.

‘‘Nonsense! You are an impostor, sir!
Leave my presence!” cried Prince Charles,
lifting his golf-club.

Dick caught it out of his hand, and broke
across his knee as fine a driver as ever came
from Robertson’s shop at St. Andrew’s.
But theve they remained,

Ss Sy, Bee SAN
= SSSR a
= SSS SSS

PSSA ——— 3
Ss SS S_ S—
SSS SSSS4 IS i

SS

 
166 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

“The quarrels of princes are not settled
with clubs, sir! Draw and defend yourself!”
he said, kicking off his boots and standing in
his socks on the grass.

Think of the horror of poor Jaqueline, who
witnessed this terrible scene of passion from a
fold in Prince Ricardo’s dress! What could
the girl do to save the life of two princes,
the hopes of one nation, and of a respectable
minority in another ?

In a moment Prince Charles’s rapier was
shining in the sunlight, and he fell on guard in
the most elegant attitude, his left hand grace-
fully raised and curved.

Dick drew his sword, but, as suddenly, threw
it down again.

‘Hang it!” he exclaimed, “I can’t hit you
with this! This is the Sword of Sharpness ;
it would cut through your steel and your neck
at a touch.”

He paused, and thought.

“Let me beseech your Royal Highness,” he
said to the Duke of York, who was in a terrible
taking, ‘‘ to lend your blade to a hand not less
royal than your own.”

“Give him it, Hal!” said Prince Charles,
who was standing with the point of his sword
on the ground, and the blade bent. ‘He
seems to believe in his own nonsense.”

The duke yielded his sword; Dick took it,
made a flourish, and rushed at Prince Charles.
PRINCE RICARDO. 167

 

Now Ricardo had always neglected his fenc-
ing lessons. ‘‘ Where’s the good of it,” he
used to ask, “all that stamping, and posture-
making, and ha-haing? The Sword of Sharp-
ness is enough for me.”

But now he could not, in honour, use the
Sword of Sharpness; so on he came, waving
the rapier like a claymore, and made a slice at
Prince Charles’s head.

The prince, very much surprised, parried in
prime, riposted, and touched Dick on the hand.

At this moment the Princess Jaqueline did
what she should have thought of sooner. She
flew out of Dick’s coat, and stung old King
James on his royal nose. The king wakened,
nearly crushed the princess (so dangerous is
the practice of magic to the artist), and then
leaped up, and saw Dick’s blade flying through
the air, glittering in the sun. The prince had
disarmed him.

“ Hullo! what’s allthis? A moi, mes gardes!”
cried the old king, in French and English; and
then he ran up, just in time to hear Prince
Charles say :

“Sir, take your life! I cannot strike an
unarmed man. A prince you may be, but you
have not learned the exercises of gentlemen.”

‘‘ What is all this, Carluccio?’”’ asked the
old king. ‘Swords out! brawling in my very
presence! blood drawn!” for Dick’s hand was
bleeding a good deal.
168 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

Prince Charles, as briefly as possible, ex-
plained the unusual nature of the circumstances.

“A king must hear both sides,” said King
James. ‘‘ What reply have you, sir, to make
to his Royal Highness’s statements ?”’

‘“‘ The carpet would not work, sir,” said Dick.
‘Tt never happened before. Had I used my
own sword,” and he explained its properties,
‘‘the Prince of Wales would not be alive to
tell his story. I can say no more, beyond
offering my apology for a disappointment which
I could not have foreseen. A gentleman can
only say that he is sorry. But wait!” he
added; “‘I can at least prove that my confi-
dence in some of my resources is not misplaced.
Bid me bring you something—anything—from
the ends of the earth, and it shall be in your
hands. I can’t say fairer.”

King James reflected, while Prince Ricardo
was pulling on the Seven-league Boots, which
he had kicked off to fight more freely, and
while the Duke of York bandaged Dick’s hand
with a kerchief.

“ Bring me,” said his Majesty, ‘‘ Lord Lovat’s
snuff-mull.”

“« Where does he live?” said Dick.

“At Gortuleg, in Scotland,” answered King
James. :

Dick was out of sight before the words were
fairly spoken, and in ten minutes was back,
bearing a large ram’s-horn snuff-box, with a
PRINCE RICARDO. 169

 

big cairngorm set in the top, and the Frazer
arms.

“Most astonishing!” said King James.

““A miracle!” said the Duke of York.

“You have entirely cleared your character,’
said the king. ‘Your honour is without a
stain, though it is a pity about the carpet.
Your nobility in not using your magical sword,
under the greatest provocation, reconciles me-
to this fresh blighting of my hopes. All my
allies fail me,”’ said the poor king with a sigh;
“you alone have failed with honour. Carluccio,
embrace the prince! ”

They fell into each other’s arms.

“Prince,” said Dick, ‘you have taught me
a lesson for which I shall not be ungrateful.
With any blade a gentleman should be able to.
hold his own in fair fight. I shall no longer
neglect my fencing lessons.”’ ;

“With any blade,” said Prince Charles, “I
shall be happy to find Prince Ricardo by my
side in a stricken field. We shall not part till
I have induced you to accept a sword which I
can never hope to draw against another adver-
sary so noble. In war, my weapon is the
claymore.”

Here the prince offered to Ricardo the ruby-
studded hilt of his rapier, which had a beautiful
white shark-skin sheath.

“You must accept it, sir,” said King James ;
“the hilt holds the rubies of John Sobieski.”

12
170 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

‘Thank you, prince,” said Ricardo, “for
the weapon, which I shall learn to wield ;. and.
I entreat you to honour me by receiving this
fairy gift— which you do not need—a ring
which makes all men faithful to the wearer.’

The Prince of Wales bowed, and placed the
talisman on his finger.

Ricardo then, after a few words of courtesy
on both parts, picked up his useless carpet,
took his farewell of the royal party, and,. with
Jaqueline still hidden under his collar, returned
at full speed, but with a heavy heart, to Pantou-
flia, where the palace gong was just sounding
for luncheon.

Ricardo never interfered in foreign affairs
again, but his ring proved very useful to Prince
Charles, as you may have read in history.
PRINCE RICARDO. I7I

CHAPTER VI.

Ricardo’s Repentance.

  
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
  

HE queen; as it
happened  fortuna-
tely, was lunching
with one of. the
ladies of her Court.
Ricardo did not
come down to
luncheon, and Jaq-
f\ueline ate hers
alone; and very
“mournful she felt.
4s The prince had
certainly not come
well out of the adventure. He had failed (as
all attempts to restore the Stuarts always
did); he had been wounded, though he had
never received a scratch in any of his earlier
exploits; and if his honour was safe, and
his good intentions fully understood, that was
chiefly due to Jaqueline, and to the generosity
of King James and Prince Charles.

‘*J wonder what he’s doing?” she said to

sk

D2ien
172 PRINCE RICARDO.

herself, and at last she went up and knocked at
Ricardo’s door.

“Go away,” he said; ‘I don’t want to see
anybody. Who is it?”

*‘Tt’s only me—Jaqueline.”

“Go away! I want nobody.”

“ Do let me in, dear Dick; I have good news
for you,” said the princess.

“What is it?” said Ricardo, unlocking the
door. ‘‘ Why do you bother a fellow so?”

He had been crying—his hand obviously hurt
him badly; he looked, and indeed he was, very
sulky.

“ How did you get on in England, Dick?’
asked the princess, taking no notice of his
bandaged hand.

“Oh, don’t ask me!” said Ricardo. ‘I’ve
not been to England at all.”

‘* Why, what happened ?”

‘“‘ Everything that is horrid happened,’’ said
Dick; and then, unable to keep it any longer to
himself, he said: ‘‘I’ve failed to keep my
promise; I’ve been insulted, I’ve been beaten
by a fellow younger than myself; and, oh! how
my hand does hurt, and I’ve got such a head-
ache! And what am I to say to my mother
when she asks why my arm is ina sling? and
what will my father say? I’m quite broken
down and desperate. I think I’ll run away to .
sea;” and indeed he looked very wild and
miserable.
 

“It’s only me.”
174 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

“Tell me how it all happened, Dick,”
said the princess; “‘I’m sure it’s not so
bad as you make out. Perhaps I can help
you.”

“How can a girl help a man?” cried Dick,
angrily ; and poor Jaqueline, remembering how
she had helped him, at the risk of her own life,
when King James nearly crushed her in the
shape of a mosquito, turned her head away, and
cried silently.

“‘T’m a beast,” said Dick. ‘I beg your par-
don, Jack dear. You are always a trump, I
will say; but I don’t see what you can do.”

Then he told her all the story (which, of
course, she knew perfectly well already), except
the part played by the mosquito, of which he
could not be aware.

‘‘T was sure it was not so bad as you made it
out, Dick,’ she said. ‘“‘ You see, the old king,
who is not very wise, but is a perfectly honour-
able gentleman, gave you the highest praise.”

She thought of lecturing him a little about
disobeying his father, but it did not seem a good
opportunity. Besides, Jaqueline had been
lectured herself lately, and had not enjoyed
it.

‘‘ What am I to say to my mother?” Dick
repeated. :

“We must think of something to say,’ said
Jaqueline.

“T can’t tell my mother anything but the
PRINCE RICARDO. 175

 

truth,” Ricardo went on. ‘‘Here’s my hand,
how it does sting! and she must find out.”

“J think I can cure it,” said Jaqueline.
“Didn’t you say Prince Charles gave you his
own sword?”

‘Yes, there it is; but what has that to do
with it?”

“Everything in the world to do with it, my
dear Dick. How lucky it is that he gave it to
you!”

And she ran to her own room, and brought
a beautiful golden casket, which contained her
medicines.

Taking out a small phial, marked (in letters
of emerald) :

“WEAPON SALVE,”

the princess drew the bright sword, extracted a
little of the ointment from the phial, and spread
it on a soft silk handkerchief.

** What are you going to do with the sword ?”
asked Ricardo.

“Polish it a little,” said Jaqueline, smiling,
and she began gently to rub, with the salve, the
point of the rapier.

As she did so, Ricardo’s arm ceased to hurt,
and the look of pain passed from his mouth.

“Why, I feel quite better!” he said. “I
can use my hand as well as ever.”

Then he took off the stained handkerchief,
and, lo, there was not even a mark where the
176 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

wound had been! For this was the famous
Weapon Salve which you may read about in
Sir Kenelm Digby, and which the Lady of
Branxholme used, in The Lay of-the Last
Minstrel. But the secret of making it has long
been lost, except in Pantouflia.

“You are the best girl in the world, Jaque-
line,” said Ricardo. ‘‘ You may give me akiss
if you like; and I won’t call you ‘Jack,’ or
laugh at you for reading books, any more.
There’s something in books after all.”

The princess did not take advantage of Dick’s
permission, but advised him to lie down and
try to sleep.

“IT say, though,”’ he said, ‘‘ what about my
father ?”’

‘“* The king need never be told anything about
it,” said Jaqueline, ‘“‘need he?”

‘*Oh, that won’t do! I tell my father every-
thing; but then, I never had anything like this
to tell him before. Don’t you think, Jaqueline,
you might break it to him? He’s very fond of
you. Just tell him what I told you; it’s every
word of it true, and he ought to know. He
might see something about it in the Mercure de
France.”

This was the newspaper of the period.

“7 don’t think it will get into the papers,”
said Jaqueline, smiling. ‘‘ Nobody could tell,
except the king and the princes, and they have
reasons for keeping it to themselves.”
PRINCE RICARDO. Jef

 

‘‘T don’t trust that younger one,” said Dick,
moodily ; “I don’t care for that young man.
Anyway, my father must be told; and, if you
won’t, I must.”

‘Well, I’ll tell him,” said Jaqueline. ‘‘And
now lie down till evening.”

After dinner, in the conservatory, Jaqueline
told King Prigio all about it.

His Majesty was very much moved.

‘‘ What extraordinary bad luck that family
has!” he thought. “If I had not changed the
rug, the merest accident, Prince Charles would
have dined at St. James’s to-night, and King
George in Hanover. It was the very nearest
thing!”

“This meddling with practical affairs will
never do,” he said aloud.

“Dick has had a lesson, sire,’’ said the
princess. ‘‘ He says he’ll never mix himself
up with politics again, whatever happens. And
he says he means to study all about them, for
he feels frightfully ignorant, and, above all, he
‘means to practise his fencing.”

These remarks were not part of the conver-
sation between Ricardo and Jaqueline, but she
considered that Dick meant all this, and, really,
he did.

“That is well, as far as it goes,” said the
king. ‘But, Jaqueline, about that mosquito ?”
for she had told him this part of the adventure.
“‘ That was a very convenient mosquito, though
178 PRINCE RICARDO.

I don’t know how Dick was able to observe it
from any distance. I see your hand in that, my
dear, and-I am glad you can make such kind
and wise use of the lessons of the good Fairy
Paribanou. Jaqueline,” he added solemnly,
laying his hand on her head, ‘‘ you have saved
the honour of Pantouflia, which is dearer to.
me than life. Without your help, I tremble
to think what might have occurred.”

The princess blushed very much, and felt very
happy.

“‘ Now run away to the queen, my dear,” said
his Majesty, ‘‘ I want to think things over.”

He did think them over, and the more he
thought the more he felt the inconvenience.
attending the possession of fairy things.

“An eclipse one day, as nearly as possible a
revolution soon after!” he said to himself. “But
for Jaqueline, Ricardo’s conduct would have
been blazed abroad, England would have been
irritated. It is true she cannot get at Pantouflia
very easily; we have no sea-coast, and we are
surrounded by friendly countries. But it would
have been a ticklish and discreditable position.
I must really speak to Dick,” which he did next
morning after breakfast.

“You have broken my rules, Ricardo,” he
said. ‘ True, there is no great harm done, and
you have confessed frankly; but how am I to
trust you any longer?”

“T’ll give you my sacred word of honour,
PRINCE RICARDO. 179

father, that I’ll never meddle with politics
again, or start on an expedition, without telling
you. I have had enough of it. And I'll turn
over a new leaf. I’ve learned to be ashamed
of my ignorance; and I’ve sent for Franca-
lanza, and I’ll fence every day, and read like
anything.”

““ Very good,” said the king. ‘‘I believe you
mean what you say. Now go to your fencing
lesson.”

“ But, I say, father,” cried Ricardo, “‘ was it
not strange about the magic carpet ?”’

‘IT told you not to trust to these things,” said
the king. ‘‘Some enchanter may have deprived
it of its power, it may be worn out, someone
may have substituted a common Persian rug ;
anything may happen. You must learn to
depend on yourself. Now, be off with you, I’m
busy. And remember, you don’t stir without
my permission.”

The prince ran off, and presently the sounds
of stamping feet and ‘‘wn, deux ; doublez, dégagez,
vite ; contye de carte,’ and so forth, might be
heard over a great part of the royal establish-
ment.
180 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

CHAPTER VII.

Prince Ricardo and an Old Enemp.

  
  
 
 
 
 
  
  
 

HERE is
one brute
I wish I could get
upsides with,” said
Ricardo, at break-
fast one morning,
his mouth full of
sardine.

“Really,
Ricardo, your
language is
most un-
princely,”
said his august
( father; “I am
ae ‘always noticing it.
You mean, I suppose, that there is one enemy
of the human race whom you wish to abolish.
What is the name of the doomed foe ?”’

‘‘ Well, he is the greatest villain in history,”
said Ricardo. ‘‘ You must have read about
him, sir, the Yellow Dwarf.”

“Yes, I have certainly studied what is told
PRINCE RICARDO. 181

 

us about him,” said the king. ‘‘He is no
favourite of mine.”

“He is the only one, if you notice, sir, of all
the scoundrels about whom our ancestors
inform us, who escaped the doom which he
richly merited at the sword of a good knight.”

You may here remark that, since Dick took
to his studies, he could speak, when he chose,
like a printed book, which was by no means
the case before.

‘“‘If you remember, sir, he polished off—I
mean, he slew—the King of the Golden Mines
and the beautiful, though frivolous, Princess
Frutilla. All that the friendly Mermaid could
do for them was to turn them into a pair of
beautiful trees which intertwine their branches.
Not much use in that, sir! And nothing was
done to the scoundrel. He may be going on
still; and, with your leave, I’ll go and try a
sword-thrust with him. Francalanza says I’m
improving uncommon.”

“You'll take the usual Sword of Sharpness,”
said his Majesty.

‘What, sir, toa dwarf? Not I, indeed: a
common small sword is good enough to settle
him.”

“They say he is very cunning of fence,” said
the king; ‘‘and besides, I have heard some-
thing of a diamond sword that he stole from
the King of the Golden Mines.”

‘Very likely he has lost it or sold it, the
182 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

shabby little miscreant; however, I’ll risk it.
And now I must make my preparations.”

The king did not ask what they were; as a
tule, they were simple. But, being in the shop
of the optician that day, standing with his back
to the door, he heard Dick come in and order
a pair of rose-coloured spectacles, with which
he was at once provided. The people of Pan-
touflia were accustomed to wear them, saying
that they improved the complexions of ladies
whom they met, and added cheerfulness to
things in general.

“Just plain rose-coloured glass, Herr Spex,”
said Dick, ‘‘I’m not short-sighted.”

‘““The boy is beginning to show some sense,”
said the king to himself, knowing the nature
and the difficulties of the expedition.

Ricardo did not disguise his intention of
taking with him a Dandie Dinmont terrier,
named Pepper, and the king, who understood
the motive of this precaution, silently approved.

“The lad has come to some purpose and
forethought,” the king said, and he gladly
advanced a considerable sum for the purchase
of crocodiles’ eggs, which can rarely be got
quite fresh. When Jaqueline had made the
crocodiles’ eggs, with millet-seed and sugar-
candy, into a cake for the Dwarf’s lions, Ricardo
announced that his preparations were com-
plete.

Not to be the mere slave of custom, he made
PRINCE RICARDO. 183

 

this expedition on horseback, and the only
magical thing he took with him was the Cap of
Darkness (the one which would not work, but
he did not know that), and this he put in his
pocket for future use. With plenty of egg
sandwiches and marmalade sandwiches, and
cold minced-collop sandwiches, he pricked
forth into the wilderness, making for the
country inhabited by the Yellow Dwarf. The
princess was glad he was riding, for she
privately accompanied him in the disguise of
a wasp; and a wasp, of course, could not have
kept up with him in his Seven-league Boots.

“Hang that wops!” said Prince Ricardo
several times, buffeting it with his pocket-
handkerchief when it buzzed in his ear and
round his horse’s head.

Meanwhile, King Prigio had taken his pre-
cautions, which were perfectly simple. When he
thought Ricardo was getting near the place, the
king put on his Wishing Cap, sat down before the
magic crystal ball, and kept his eye on the pro-
ceedings, being ready to wish the right thing to
help Ricardo at the right moment. He left
the window wide open, smoked his cigar, and
seemed the pattern of a good and wise father
watching the conduct of a promising son.

The prince rode and rode, sometimes taking
up Pepper on his saddle; passing through
forests, sleeping at lonely inns, fording rivers,
till one day he saw that the air was becoming
 

“Hang that wops!” said Prince Ricardo,
PRINCE RICARDO. 185

 

Yellow. He knew that this showed the neigh-
bourhood of Jaunia, or Daunia, the country
of the Yellow Dwarf. He therefore drew bridle,
placed his rose-coloured spectacles on his
nose, and put spurs to his horse, for the yellow
light of Jaunia makes people melancholy and
cowardly. As he pricked on, his horse stumbled
and nearly came on its nose. The prince
noticed that a steel chain had been drawn across
the road.

‘“‘What caitiff has dared!” he exclaimed,
when his hat was knocked off by a well-aimed
orange from a neighbouring orange-tree, and a
vulgar voice squeaked :

* Hi, Blinkers!”

There was the Yellow Dwarf, an odious little
figure, sitting sucking an orange in the tree,
swinging his wooden shoes, and grinning all
over his wrinkled face.

“Well, young Blinkers!” said the Dwarf,
““what are you doing on my grounds? You’re
a prince, by your look. Yah! down with kings !
I’m a man of the people!”’

““You’re a dwarf of the worst description,
that’s what you are,” said Ricardo; ‘‘and let
me catch you, and I’ll flog the life out of you
with my riding-whip !”

The very face of the Dwarf, even seen
through rose-coloured spectacles, made him
nearly ill:

*“Yes, when youcancatch me,” said the Dwarf;

13
186 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

‘but that’s not to-day, nor yet to-morrow.
What are you doing here? Are you an am-
bassador, maybe come to propose a match for
me? I’m not proud, I’ll hear you. They say
there’s a rather well-looking wench in your
parts, the Princess Jaqueline——”

‘“‘ Mention that lady’sname, you villain,” cried
Dick, ‘‘and I’ll cut down your orange-tree!”’
and he wished he had brought the Sword of
Sharpness, for you cannot prod down a tee
with the point of a rapier.

“Fancy her yourself?’ said the Dwarf,
showing his yellow teeth with a detestable grin ;
while Ricardo turned quite white with anger, and
not knowing how to deal with this insufferable
little monster.

“I’m a widower, I am,” said the Dwarf,
“though I’m out of mourning,” for he wore a
dirty clay-coloured Yellow jacket. ‘‘ My illus-
trious consort, the Princess Frutilla, did not
behave very nice, and I had to avenge my
honour; in fact, I’m open to any offers, how-
ever humble. Going at an alarming sacrifice! -
Come to my box”’ (and he pointed to a filthy
clay cottage, all surrounded by thistles, net-
tles, and black boggy water), ‘‘and I’ll talk
over your proposals.”

“Hold your impudent tongue!” said
Dick. ‘The Princess Frutilla was an
injured saint; and as for the lady whom
I shall not name in your polluting presenice,
PRINCE RICARDO. 187

I am her knight, and I defy you to deadly
combat!”

We may imagine how glad the princess was
when (disguised as a wasp) she heard Dick say
he was her knight; not that, in fact, he had
thought of it before.

“Oh! you’re for a fight, are you?” sneered
the Dwarf. ‘I might tell you to hit one of your
own weight, but I’m not afraid of six of you.
Yah! mammy’s brat! Look here, young
Blinkers, I don’t want to hurt you. Just turn
old Dobbin’s head, and trot back to your
mammy, Queen Rosalind, at Pantouflia. Does
she know you’re out ?”

*‘T’ll be into you, pretty quick,” said Ricardo.
“But why do I bandy words with a miserable
peasant ?”’

“And don’t get much the best of them
either,” said the Dwarf, provokingly. ‘“ But
I’ll fight, if you will have it.”

The prince leaped from his horse, leaving
Pepper on the saddle-bow.

No sooner had he touched the ground than
the Dwarf shouted :

“Hi! to him, Billy! to him, Daniel! at
him, good lions, at him!” and, with an
awful roar, two lions rushed from a neigh-
bouring potato-patch and made for Ricardo.
These were not ordinary lions, history avers,
each having two heads, each being eight
feet high, with four rows of teeth; their

Toes
188 PRINCE RICARDO.

skins as hard as nails, and bright red, like
morocco.*

The prince did not lose his presence of mind;
hastily he threw the cake of crocodiles’ eggs,
millet-seed, and sugar-candy to the lions. This
is a dainty which lions can never resist, and
running greedily at it, with four tremendous
snaps, they got hold of each other by their
jaws, and their eight rows of teeth were
locked fast in a grim and deadly struggle for
existence !

The Dwarf took in the affair at a glance.

“Cursed be he who taught you this!” he
cried, and then whistled in a shrill and vulgar
manner on his very dirty fingers. At his call
rushed up an enormous Spanish cat, ready
saddled and bridled, and darting fire from its
eyes. To leap on its back, while Ricardo sprang
on his own steed, was to the active Dwarf the
work of a moment. Then clapping spurs to
its sides (his spurs grew naturally on his bare
heels, horrible to relate, like a cock’s spurs) and
taking his cat by the head, the Dwarf forced it
to leap on to Ricardo’s saddle. The diamond
sword which slew the king of the Golden Mines
—that invincible sword which hews iron like a
reed—was up and flashing in the air!

At this very moment King Prigio, seeing, in
the magic globe, all that passed, and despairing
of Ricardo’s life, was just about to wish the

* See the works of D’Aulnoy.
PRINCE RICARDO. 189

dwarf at Jericho, when through the open
window, with a tremendous whirr, came a huge
vulture, and knocked the king’s wishing cap
off! Wishing was now of no use.

This odious fowl was the Fairy of the Desert,
the Dwarf’s trusted ally in every sort of mis-
chief. The vulture flew instantly out of the
window; and ah! with what awful anxiety the
king again turned his eyes on the crystal ball
only a parent’s heart can know. Should hesee
Ricardo bleeding at the feet of the abominable
dwarf? The king scarcely dared to look;
never before had he known the nature of fear.
However, look he did, and saw the dwarf un-
catted, and Pepper, the gallant Dandie Din-
mont, with his teeth in the throat of the
monstrous Spanish cat.

No sooner had he seen the cat leap on his
master’s saddle-bow than Pepper, true to the
instinct of his race, sprang at its neck, just
behind the head—the usual place,—and, with
an awful and despairing mew, the cat (Peter
was its name) gave up its life.

The dwarf was on his feet in a moment,
waving the diamond sword, which lighted up
the whole scene, and yelling taunts. Pepper
was flying at his heels, and, with great agility,
was keeping out of the way of the invincible
blade. ;

“Ah!” screamed the Dwarf as Pepper got
him by the ankle. ‘Call off your dog, you
Igo PRINCE RICARDO.

 

coward, and come down off your horse, and
fight fair!”

At this moment, bleeding yellow blood, dusty,
mad with pain, the dwarf was a sight to strike
terror into the boldest.

Dick sprang from his saddle, but so terrific
was the appearance of his adversary, and so
dazzling was the sheen of the diamond sword,
that he put his hand in his pocket, drew out, as
he supposed, the sham Cap of Darkness, and
placed it on his head.

“Yah! who’s your hatter?” soteameti the
infuriated dwarf. ‘‘I see you!” and he dis-
engaged, feinted in carte, and made a lunge in
seconde at Dick which no mortal blade could
have parried. The prince (thanks to his excel-
lent training) just succeeded in stepping aside,
but the dwarf recovered with astonishing
quickness.

“Coward, lache, poltroon, runaway!’’ he
hissed through his clenched teeth, and was
about to make a thrust in tierce which must
infallibly have been fatal, when the Princess
Jaqueline, in her shape as a wasp, stung him
fiercely on the wrist.

With an oath so awful that we dare not set it
down, the dwarf dropped the diamond sword,
sucked his injured limb, and began hopping
about with pain.

Ina moment Prince Ricardo’s foot was on
the blade of the diamond. sword, which he
 

Vf

the Yellow Dwar

jight with

The
Ig2 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

passed thrice through the body of the Yellow
Dwarf. Squirming fearfully, the little monster
expired, his last look a defiance, his latest word
an insult :

“Yah! Gig-lamps !’’

Prince Ricardo wiped the diamond blade
clean from its yellow stains.

“Princess Frutilla is avenged!” he cried.
Then pensively looking at his fallen foe, “‘ Peace
to his ashes,” he said; ‘‘ he died in harness !’’

Turning at the word, he observed that the
two lions were stiff and dead, locked in each
other’s gory jaws!

At that moment King Prigio, looking in the
crystal ball, gave a great sigh of relief.

“ All’s well that ends well,” he said, lighting
a fresh cigar, for he had allowed the other to
go out in his excitement, “but it was a fight!
I am not satisfied,” his Majesty went on reflect-
ing, ‘with this plan of changing the magical
articles. The first time was of no great
importance, and I could not know that the
boy would start on an expedition without giving
me warning. But, in to-day’s affair he owes
his safety entirely to himself and Pepper,” for
he had not seen the wasp. ‘“‘ The Fairy of the
Desert quite baffled me: it was terrible. I
shall restore the right fairy things to-night. As
to the Fairy of the Desert,” he said, forgetting
that his Wishing Cap was on, “‘ I wish she were
dead !”
PRINCE RICARDO. 193

 

‘A hollow groan and the sound of a heavy
body falling interrupted the king. He looked
all about the room, but saw nothing. He was
alone !

‘‘She must have been in the room, invisible,”
said the king; and, of course, she has died in
that condition. ‘‘ But I must find her body!”

The king groped about everywhere, like a
blind man, and at last discovered the dead body
‘of the wicked fairy lying on the sofa. He could
not see it, of course, but he felt it with his
hands.

“This is very awkward,” he remarked. “I
cannot ring for the servants and make them
take her away. There is only one plan.”

So he wished she were in her family pyramid,
in the Egyptian desert, and in a second the
sofa was unoccupied.

“‘A very dangerous and revengeful enemy is
now removed from Ricardo’s path in life,” said
his Majesty, and went to dress for dinner.

Meanwhile Ricardo was riding gaily home.
The yellow light of Jaunia had vanished, and
pure blue sky broke overhead as soon as the
dauntless Dwarf had drawn his latest breath.
The poor, trembling people of the country
came out of their huts and accompanied Dick,
cheering, and throwing roses which had
been yellow roses, but blushed red as soon as
the Dwarf expired. They attended him to
the frontiers of Pantouflia, singing his praises,
194 PRINCE RICARDO. ‘

which Ricardo had the new and inestimable
pleasure of knowing to be deserved.

“It was sharp work,” he said to himself,
“but much more exciting and glorious than the
usual business.”

On his return Dick did not fail to mention
the wasp, and again the king felt how great
was his debt to Jaqueline. But they did not
think it well to trouble the good queen with
the dangers Dick had encountered.
PRINCE RICARDO. 195

 

CHAPTER VIII.

Lhe Giant who does not Know when he bas
had Enough.”

fi N E{morning the post
S$ brought a truly enor-
; \imous letter for Dick.

It was as broad as a
tablecloth, and the address
was written in letters as long
as a hoop-stick.

“T seem to know that
hand,” said Ricardo;
‘but I thought the fingers
which held the pen had
long been cold in death.”

He opened, with his
sword, the enormous
letter, which was couched

in the following terms:

‘‘ The Giant as does not know when he has
had enuf, presents his compliments to Prince
Ricardo; and I, having recovered from the effects
of our little recent rally, will be happy to meet
you in the old place for a return-match. I not

  
   

' * This Giant is mentioned, and his picture is drawn, in an
old manuscript of about 1875.
196 PRINCE RICARDO.

being handy with the pen, the Giant hopes you
will excuse mistakes and bad writing.”

Dick simply gazed with amazement.

“If ever I thought an enemy was killed and
done for, it was that Giant,” said he. ‘“‘ Why,
I made mere mince-collops of him !”

However, he could not refuse a challenge,
not to speak of his duty to rid the world of so
greedyand odiousatyrant. Dick, therefore, took
the usual things (which the king had secretly
restored), but first he tried them—putting on
the Cap of Darkness before the glass, in which
he could not see himself. On second thoughts,
he considered it unfair to take the cap. All
the other articles were in working order.
Jaqueline on this occasion followed him in the
disguise of a crow, flying overhead.

On reaching the cavern—a huge tunnel in
the rock—where the Giant lived, Ricardo blew
a blast on the horn which hung outside, and,
in obedience to a written notice, knocked also
with a mace provided by the Giant for that
purpose. Presently he heard heavy footsteps
sounding along the cavern, and the Giant came
out. He was above the common. height :for
giants, and his whole face and body were
seamed over with little red lines, crossing each
other like tartan. These were marks of en-
counters, in which he had been cut to bits and
come together again; for this was his peculiarity,
which made him so dangerous. If you cut off
PRINCE RICARDO. 197

 

his head, he went on just as before, only without
it; and so about everything else. By dint of
magic, he could put his head on again, just as
if it had been his hat, if you gave him time
enough. On the last occasion of their meeting,
Ricardo had left him in a painfully scattered
condition, and thought he was done for. But
now, except that a bird had flown away with
the little finger of his left hand and one of his -
ears, the Giant was as comfortable as anyone
could be in his situation.

“‘ Mornin’ sir,” he said to Dick, touching his
forehead with his hand. ‘Glad to see you
looking so well. .No bad feeling, I hope, on
either side ?”’

‘“None on mine, certainly,” said Ricardo,
holding out his hand, which the Giant took and
shook; “‘but Duty is Duty, and giants must go.
The modern world has no room for them.”

““That’s hearty,” said the Giant; “I like a
fellow of your kind. Now, shall we toss for
corners ?”

“All right!” said Dick, calling ‘‘ Heads,”
and winning. He took the corner with the sun
on his back and in the Giant’s face. To it they
went, the Giant aiming a blow with his club
that would have felled an elephant.

Dick dodged, and cut off the Giant’s feet at
the ankles.

“First blood for the prince!” said the Giant,
coming up smiling. ‘‘ Half-minute time!”
198 PRINCE RICARDO.

He occupied the half-minute in placing the
feet. neatly beside each other, as if they had
been a pair of boots.

Round IIJ.—The Giant sparring for wind,
Ricardo cuts him in two at the waist.

The Giant folded his legs up neatly, like a pair
of trousers, and laid them down on arock. He
had now some difficulty in getting rapidly over
the ground, and stood mainly on the defensive,
and on his waist.

Round III.—Dick bisects the Giant. Both
sides now attack him on either hand, and the
feet- kick him severely.

“No kicking!” said Dick.

“Nonsense; all fair in war!” said the Giant.

But do not let us pursue this sanguinary
encounter in all its horrible details.

Let us also remember—otherwise the scene
would be too painful for an elegant mind to
contemplate with entertainment—that the
Giant was in excellent training, and thought
no more of a few wounds than you do of a
crack on the leg from a cricket-ball. He well
deserved the title given him by the Fancy, of
“The Giant who does not Know when he has
had Enough.”

she
ae

The contest was over; Dick was resting on
arock. The lists were strewn with interesting
but imperfect fragments of the Giant, when a
PRINCE RICARDO. 199

set of double teeth of enormous size flew up
out of the ground and caught Ricardo by the
throat! In vain he strove to separate the
teeth, when the crow, stooping from the
heavens, became the Princess Jaqueline, and
changed Dick into a wren—a tiny bird, so
small that he easily flew out of the jaws of the
Giant and winged his way to a tree, whence he
watched the scene.

But the poor Princess Jaqueline!

To perform the feat of changing Dick into a
bird she had, of course, according to all the
laws of magic, to resume her own natural
form !

There she stood, a beautiful, trembling
maiden, her hands crossed on her bosom,
entirely at the mercy of the Giant!

No sooner had Dick escaped than the monster
began to collect himself; and before Jaqueline
could muster strength to run away or summon
to her aid the lessons of the Fairy Paribanou,
the Giant who never Knew when he had Enough
was himself again. A boy might have climbed
up a tree (for giants are no tree-climbers, any
more than the grizzly bear), but Jaqueline could
not climb. She merely stood, pale and
trembling. She had saved Dick, but at an
enormous . sacrifice, for the sword and the
Seven-league Boots were lying on the trampled
grass. He had not brought the Cap of Dark-
ness, and, in the shape of a wren, of course he
200 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

could not carry away the other articles. Dick
was rescued, that was all, and the Princess
Jaqueline had sacrificed herself to her love
for him.

The Giant picked himself up and pulled
himself together, as we said, and then ap-
proached Jaqueline in a very civil way, for a
person of his breeding, head in hand.

“Let me introduce myself,’ he said, and
mentioned his name and titles. ‘‘ May I ask
what you are doing here, and how you
came?”

Poor Jaqueline threw herself at his feet, and
murmured a short and not very intelligible
account of herself.

‘““T don’t understand,” said the Giant, re-
placing his head on his shoulders. ‘ What to
do with you, I’m sure I don’t know. ‘ Please
don’t eat me,’ did you say? Why, what do you
take me for? I’m not in that lineat all; low, I
call it !”’

Jaqueline was somewhat comforted at these
words, dropped out of the Giant’s lips from a
considerable height.

** But they call you ‘The Giant who does not
Know whenhe has had Enough,’”’ said Jaqueline.

‘And proud of the title : not enough of fight-
ing. Of punishment I ama glutton, or so my
friends are pleased to say. A brace of oxen, a
drove of sheep or two, are enough for me,”
the Giant went on complacently, but forgetting
 

 

4

‘“* Let me introduce myself,” he sa
T4
202 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

to mention that the sheep and the oxen were
the property of other people. ‘Where am I
to put you till your friends come and pay your
ransom?” the Giant asked again, and stared
at Jaqueline in a perplexed way. “I can’t
take you home with me, that is out of the
question. I have a little woman of my own,
and she’s not very fond of other ladies;
especially, she would like to poison them that
have good looks.”

Now Jaqueline saw that the Giant, big as he
was, courageous too, was afraid of his wife!

“Tl tell you what I’ll do; I’ll hand you
over to a neighbour of mine, who is a bachelor.”

“A bachelor giant; would that be quite
proper?” said Jaqueline, trying to humour
him.

“He’s not a giant, bless you; he’s a queer
fellow, it is not easy to say what he is. He’s
the Earthquaker, him as shakes the earth now
and then, and brings the houses about people’s
ears.”

Jaqueline fairly screamed at hearing this
awful news.

“Hush! be quiet, do!” said the Giant.
“You'll bring out my little woman, and she is
not easy to satisfy with explanations when she
finds me conversing with a lady unbeknown to
her. The Earthquaker won’t do you any harm ;
it’s only for safe keeping I'll put you with him.
Why, he don’t waken, not once in fifty years.
PRINCE RICARDO. 203

 

He’s quite the dormouse. Turns on his bed
now and then, and things upstairs get upset,
more or less; but, as a rule, a child could play
with him. Come on!”

_ Then, taking Jaqueline up on one hand, on
which she sat as if on a chair, he crossed a few
ranges of mountains in as many strides. In
front was one tall blue hill, with a flattened
peak, and as they drew near the princess felt a
curious kind of wind coming round her and
round her. You have heard of whirlpools in
water; well, this was just like a whirlpool of
air. Even the Giant himself could hardly keep
his legs against it; then he tossed Jaqueline
up, and the airy whirlpool seized her and carried
her, as if on a tide of water, always round and
round in narrowing circles, till she was sucked
down into the hollow hill. Even as she went,
she seemed to remember the hill, as if she had
dreamed about it, and the shape and colour
of the country. But presently she sank softly
on to a couch, in a beautifully-lighted rocky
hall. All around her the floor was of white and
red marble, but on one side it seemed to end
in black nothing.

Jaqueline, after a few moments, recovered
her senses fully, and changing herself into an
eagle, tried to fy up and out. But as soon as
she was in the funnel, the whirlpool of air,
always sucking down and down, was too strong
for her wings. She was a prisoner in this great

14 *
204. PRINCE RICARDO.

 

gleaming hall, ending in black nothingness. So
she resumed her usual form, and walking to the
edge of the darkness, found that it was not
empty air, but something black, soft, and strong
—something living. It had no form or shape,
or none that she could make out ; but it pulsed
with aheart. Jaqueline placed her foot on this
curious thing, when a voice came, like thunder
heard through a feather-bed :

‘“‘Not near time to get up yet!” and then
there was asnore, and the great hall rocked like
a ship at sea.

It was the Earthquaker !

The habits of this monstrous animal are very
little known, as, of course, he never comes
above ground, or at least very seldom, when he
makes tracks like a dry river-bed across country.
We are certain that there ave Earthquakers,
otherwise how can we account for earthquakes ?
But how to tackle an Earthquaker, how to get
at him, and what to do with him when you
have got at him, are questions which might
puzzle even King Prigio.

It was not easy to have the better of an
enchantress like Jaqueline and a prince like
Ricardo. In no ordinary circumstances could
they have been baffled and defeated ; but now it
must be admitted that they were in a very
trying and alarming situation, especially the
princess. The worst of it was, that as Jaque-
line sat and thought and thought, she began to
PRINCE RICARDO. 205

 

remember that she was back in her own
country. The hills were those she used to see
from her father’s palace windows when she was.
a child. And she remembered with horror that
once a year her people used to send a beautiful
girl to the Earthquaker, by way of keeping him
quiet, as you shall hear presently. And now
she heard light footsteps and a sound of weep-
ing, and lo! a great troop of pretty girls passed,
sweeping in and out of the halls in a kind of
procession, and looking unhappy and lost.

Jaqueline ran to them..

“Where am I? who are you?” she cried, in
the language of her own country, which came
back to her on a sudden.

“We are nurses of the Earthquaker,” they
said. ‘‘ Our duty is to sing him asleep, and every
year he must have a new song; and every year
a new maiden must be sent down from earth,
with a new sleepy song she has learned from
the priests of Manoa, the City of the Sun. Are
you the new singer ?”

“No, I’m not,” said Jaqueline. ‘‘I don’t
know the priests of Manoa; I don’t know any
new sleepy song. I only want to find the way
out.”

“There is no way, or we should have
found it,” said one of the maidens; ‘‘and, if
you are the wrong girl, by the day after
to-morrow they must send the right one,
otherwise the Earthquaker will waken, and
206 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

shake the world, and destroy Manoa, the City
of the Sun.”

Then they all wept softly in the stillness.

“Can we get anything to eat here ?’”’ asked
poor Jaqueline, at last.

She was beginning to be very hungry, and
however alarmed she might be, she felt that
dinner would not be unwelcome. The tallest
of the maidens clapped her hands, and imme-
diately a long table was spread by unseen sprites
with méringues and cold chicken, and several
sorts of delicious ices.

We shall desert Jaqueline, who was rather
less alarmed when she found that she was not
.to be starved, at all events, and return to
Prince Ricardo, whom we left fluttering about
as a little golden-crested wren.* He followed
the Giant and Jaqueline into the whirlpool of
air as far as he dared, and when he saw her
vanish down the cone of the hill, he flew straight
back to Pantouflia.
PRINCE RICARDO. 207

 

CHAPTER Ix.
Rrigio Has an Idea.

WEARY and way-worn
little bird was Prince
, Ricardo when he flut-

| tered into the royal study
window, in the palace of
\ Pantouflia. The king
was out at a council
meeting; knowing that
Ricardo had the right things,
all in good order, he was not
in the least anxious about

  
  
  
  

the great grey cat, sitting on a
big book on the top of the library steps.
Now Semiramis was very fond of birds, and
no sooner did Ricardo enter and flutter
on to a table than Semiramis gathered her-
self together and made one fell spring at him.
She just caught his tail feather. In all
his adventures the prince had never been in
greater danger. He escaped, but no more, and
went flying round the ceiling, looking for a safe
208 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

place. Finally he perched on a chandelier
that hung from the roof. Here he was safe;
and so weary was he, that he put his head
under his wing and fell fast asleep. He was
awakened by the return of the king, who threw
himself on a sofa and exclaimed:

‘Oh, that Prime Minister! his dulness is as
_heavy as lead; much heavier, in fact!”

Then his Majesty lit a cigar and took upa
volume; he certainly was a sad bookworm.

Dick now began to fly about the room, brush-
ing the king’s face and trying to attract his notice.

** Poor little thing !’’ said his Majesty.

And Dick alighted, and nestled in his breast.

On seeing this, Semiramis began to growl,
as cats do when they are angry, and slowly
approached his Majesty.

“Get out, Semiramis!” said the king; and
lifting her by the neck, he put her out of the
room and shut the door, at which she remained
scratching and mewing.

Dick now crept out of the royal waistcoat,
flew to the king’s ear, twittered, pointed out of
the window with one claw, and, lying down on
his back, pretended to be dead. Then he got
up again, twittered afresh, pointed to the
Wishing Cap, and, finally, convinced the king
that this was no common fowl.

‘““An enchanted prince or princess,’ said
Prigio, “‘such as I have often read of. Who
can it be? Not Jaqueline; she could change
PRINCE RICARDO. — 209

 

herself back ina moment. By the way, where
is Jaqueline ?”’

He rang the bell, and asked the servant to
look for the princess.

Semiramis tried to come in, but was caught
and shut up downstairs.

After doing this, the man replied that her
Royal Highness had not been in the palace all
day.

The king rushed to the crystal ball, looked
all the world over; but no princess! He
became very nervous, and at that moment
Dick lighted on the crystal ball, and put
his claw on the very hill where Jaqueline
had disappeared. Then he cocked his little
eye at the king.

*“Nay,. she is somewhere in the unknown
centre of South America,” said his Majesty;
*“somewhere behind Mount Roraima, where
nobody has ever been. I must look into this.”

Then he put on the Wishing Cap, and wished
that the bird would assume his natural shape if
he was under enchantment, as there seemed
too good reason to believe.

Instantly Dick stood before him.

“Ricardo!” cried the king in horror; “‘and
in this disguise! Where have you been? What
have you done with Jaqueline? Where are the
Seven-league Boots? Where is the Sword of
Sharpness? Speak! Get up!” for Dick was
kneeling and weeping bitterly at the royal feet.
 

Instantly Dick stood before him.
PRINCE RICARDO. 2ir

 

“All lost!” said Dick. ‘Poor Jaqueline !
she was the best girl, and the prettiest, and
the kindest. And the Earthquaker’s got her,
and the Giant’s got the other things,” Dick
ended, crying bitterly.

“Calm yourself, Ricardo,” said his Majesty,
very pale, but calm and determined. ‘“‘ Here,
take a glass of port, and explain how all this
happened.”

Dick drank the wine, and then he told his
miserable story.

“You may well sob! Why didn’t you use
the Cap of Darkness? Mere conceit! But
there is no usé in crying over spilt milk. The
thing is, to rescue Jaqueline. And what are we
to say to your mother?”

“That’s the worst of it all,” said Dick.
‘€ Mother will break her heart.”

“‘T must see her at once,” said the king,
‘‘and break it to her.”

This was a terrible task; but the queen had
such just confidence in her Prigio that she soon
dried her tears, remarking that Heaven would
not desert Jaqueline, and that the king would
find a way out of the trouble.

His Majesty retired to his study, put his
head in his hands, and thought and thought.

“The thing is, of course,’ he said, ‘to.
destroy the Earthquaker before he wakens ;
but how? What can kill such a monster?
Prodding him with the sword would only stir

>
212 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

him up and make him more vicious. And I
know of no other beast we can set against
him, as I did with the Fire-beast and the
Ice-beast, when I was young. Oh, for an
idea!”

Then his mind, somehow, went back to the
Council and the ponderous stupidity of the
Prime Minister.

‘* Heavier than lead,” said the king. ‘By
George! Ihavea plan. If I could get to the
place where they keep the Stupidity, I could
carry away enough of it to flatten out the
Earthquaker.”

Then he remembered how, in an old Italian
poem, he had read about all the strange lumber-
room of odd things which is kept in the moon.
That is the advantage of reading: Knowledge
is Power ; and you mostly get knowledge that
is really worth having out of good old books
which people do not usually read.

“If the Stupidity is kept in stock, up in the
moon, and comes from there, falling naturally
down on the earth in small quantities, I might
obtain enough for my purpose,” thought King
Prigio. ‘“‘But—how to get to the moon?
There are difficulties about that.”

But difficulties only sharpened the ingenuity
of this admirable king.

“The other fellow had a Flying Horse,” said
he.

By ‘‘the other fellow” King Prigio meant
PRINCE RICARDO. 213

 

an Italian knight, Astolfo, who, in old times,
visited the moon, and there found and brought
back the common sense of his friend, Orlando,
‘as you may read in the poem of Ariosto.

‘““Now,” reasoned King Prigio, “‘if there isa
Flying Horse at all, he is in the stables of the
King of Delhi. I must look into this.”

Taking the magic spy-glass, the king surveyed
the world from China to Peru, and, sure enough,
there was the famous Flying Horse in the
king’s stable at Delhi. Hastily the king thrust
his feet into the Shoes of Swiftness—so hastily,
indeed, that, as the poet says, he “‘ madly
crammed a left-hand foot into a right-hand
shoe.” But this, many people think, is a sign
of good luck; so he put the shoes on the proper
feet, and in a few minutes was in the presence
of the Great Mogul.

The monarch received him with some sur-
prise, but with stately kindness, and listened to
Prigio while he explained what he wanted.

‘“‘T am only too happy to assist so adventur-
ous a prince,” remarked the Great Mogul.
“This is like old times! Every horse in my
stable is at your service, but, as you say, only
the Flying Horse is of any use to you in this
expedition.”

He clapped his hands, the Grand Vizier
appeared, and the king gave orders to have the
Flying Horse saddled at once. He then pre-
sented King Prigio with a large diamond, and
214 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

came down into the courtyard to see him
mount.

“‘He’s very fresh,” said the groom who held
the bridle; ‘“‘has not been out of the stable for
three hundred years!”

Prigio sprang into the saddle among the
salaams of the dusky multitude, and all the
ladies of the seraglio waved their scented
handkerchiefs out of the windows.

The king, as he had been instructed, turned
a knob of gold in the saddle of the Flying
Horse, then kissed his hand to the ladies, and,
giving the steed his head, cried, in excellent
Persian :

“To the moon!”

Up flew the horse with an easy action, and
the king’s head nearly swam with the swiftness
of the flight. Soon the earth below him was
no bigger than a top, spinning on its own axis
(see Geography books for this), and, as night
fell, earth was only a great red moon.

Through the dark rode King Prigio, into the
silver dawn of the moon. All now became
clear and silvery; the coasts of the moon came
into sight, with white seas breaking on them;
and at last the king reached the silver walls,
and the gate of opal. Before the gate stood
two beautiful ladies. . One was fair, with yellow
locks, the colour of the harvest moon. She
had a crown of a golden snake and white
water-lilies, and her dress now shone white,
 

ing Horse

the Fly

g Prigio on

King
216 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

now red, now golden; and in her hand was the
golden pitcher that sheds the dew, and a
golden wand. The other lady was as dark as
night—dark eyes, dark hair; her crown was of
. poppies. She held the ebony Wand of Sleep.
Her dress was of the deepest blue, sown with
stars.. The king knew that they were the —
maidens of the bright and the dark side of the
moon—of the side you see, and of the side
that no one has ever seen, except King Prigio.
He stopped the Flying Horse by turning the
other knob in the saddle, alighted, and bowed
very low to each of the ladies.

‘* Daring mortal! what make you here?”
they asked. :

And then the king told them about Jaqueline
and the Earthquaker, and how he needed a
great weight of Stupidity to flatten him out
with.

The ladies heard him in silence, and then
they said:

‘Follow us,” and they flew lightly beside the
Flying Horse till they had crossed all the bright
side of the moon, above the silver palaces and
silver seas, and reached the summit of the
Mountains of the Moon which separate the
bright from the dark side.

‘‘ Here I may go no further,” said the bright
lady; ‘‘and beyond, as you see, allis darkness
and heavy sleep.”

Then she touched Prigio with her golden
PRINCE RICCARDO. 217

 

wand with twisted serpents, and he became
luminous, light raying out from him; and the
dark lady, too, shone like silver in the night:
and on they flew, over black rocks and black
rivers, till they reached a huge mountain, like
a mountain of coal, many thousand feet high,
for its head was lost in the blackness of dark--
ness. The dark Moon- Lady struck the rock
with her ebony wand, and said, ‘“ Open!” and
the cliffs opened like a door, and they were
within the mountain.

“Here,” said the dark lady, “is the store-
house of all the Stupidity; hence it descends
in showers like stardust on the earth whenever
this mountain, which is a volcano, is in erup-
tion. Only a little of the Stupidity reaches
the earth, and that only in invisible dust; yet
you know how weighty it is, even in that
form.”

“Indeed, madam,” said the king, ‘‘no one
knows it better than I do.”

“Then make your choice of the best sort of
Stupidity for your purpose,” said the dark lady.

And in the light which flowed from their
bodies King Prigio looked round at the various
kinds of Solid Stupidity. There it all lay in
masses—the Stupidity of bad sermons, of
ignorant reviewers, of bad poems, of bad
speeches, of dreary novels, of foolish states-
men, of ignorant mobs, of fine ladies, of idle,
naughty boys and girls; and the king examined

15
218 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

them all, and all were very, very heavy. But
when he came to the Stupidity of the Learned—
of dull, blind writers on Shakspeare, and
Homer, and the Bible—then King Prigio saw
that he had found the sort he wanted, and that
a very little of it would go a long way. He
- never could have got it on the saddle of the
Flying Horse if the dark lady had not touched
it with her ebony wand, and made it light to
carry till it was wanted for his purpose. When
he needed it for use, he was to utter a certain
spell, which she taught him, and then the
lump would recover its natural weight. So
he easily put a great block on his saddle-bow,
and he and the dark lady flew back till they
reached the crest of the Mountains of the Moon.
There she touched him with her ebony wand,
and the silver light which the bright lady had
shed on him died from his face and his body,
and he became like other men.

“You see your way?’’ said the dark lady,
pointing to the bright moon of earth, shining
far off in the heavens.

Then he knelt down and thanked her, and
she murmured strange words of blessing
which he did not understand; but her face was
grave and kind, and he thought of Queen
Rosalind, his wife.

Then he jumped .on the Flying Horse,
galloped down and down, till he reached his
palace gate; called for Ricardo, set him behind
PRINCE RICARDO. 219

 

him on the saddle, and away they rode, above
land and wide seas, till they saw the crest of
the hollow hill, where Jaqueline was with the
Earthquaker. Beyond it they marked the
glittering spires and towers of Manoa, the City
of the Sun; and ‘‘ Thither,” said King Prigio,
who had been explaining how matters stood, to
Ricardo, ‘‘we must ride, for I believe they
stand in great need of our assistance.”

‘“‘Had we not better go to Jaqueline first,
sir?’’ said Ricardo.

‘“No,” said the king; ‘‘I think mine is the
best plan. Manoa, whose golden spires and
pinnacles are shining below us, is the City of
the Sun, which Sir Walter Raleigh and the
Spaniards could never find, so that men have
doubted of its existence. We are needed there,
to judge by that angry crowd in the market-
place. How they howl!”

15 *
220 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

CHAPTER X.

{he End.

  
   
   

T was on a strange sight that
y. the king and Ricardo looked
2 down from the Flying Horse.
Beneath them lay the City
_ of Manoa, filling with its
golden battlements and
temples a hollow of the
“mountains. Here were
palaces all carved over with
faces of men and beasts, and

[ save stones, and among the
groves towered pyramids, on
which the people did service to
their gods. From every temple
top came the roar of beaten
drums, great drums of serpentskin.

But, in the centre of the chief square of the
town, was gathered a wild crowd of men in
shining copper armour and helmets of gold
and glittering dresses of feathers. Among
them ran about priests with hideous masks,
PRINCE RICARDO. 221

 

crying them on to besiege and break down the
royal palace. From the battlements of the
palace the king’s guardsmen were firing arrows
and throwing spears. The mob shot arrows
back, some of them tipped with lighted straw,
to burn the palace down.

But, in the very centre of the square, was
a clear space of ground, on which fell
the shadow of a tall column of red stone,
all carved with serpents and faces of gods.
Beside it stood a figure horrible to see: a man
clothed in serpent skins, whose face was the
grinning face of a skull; but the skull was
shining black and red in patches, and a long
white beard flowed from beneath it. This man,
mounted on a kind of altar of red stone,
waved his hand and yelled, and seemed to
point to the shadow of the column which fell
across the square.

The people were so finons and so eager
that they did not, at first, notice King Prigio
as he slowly descended. But at last the eyes
within the skull looked up and saw him, and
then the man gave a great cry, rent his
glittering dress of serpentskin, and held up
his hands.

Then all the multitude looked up, and seeing
the Flying Horse, let their weapons fall; and
the man of the skull tore it from his face, and
knelt before King Prigio, with his head in the
dust.
222 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

“Thou hast come, oh, Pachacamac, as is
foretold in the prophecy of the Cord of the
Venerable Knots ! Thou hast come, but
behold the shadow of the stone! Thou
art too late, oh Lord of the Earth and the
Sea!”

Then he pointed to the shadow, which,
naturally, was growing shorter, as the sun
drew near mid-day.

He spoke in the language of the ancient
Incas of Peru, which of course Prigio knew
very well; and he also knew that Pachacamac
was the god of that people.

“TI have come,” Prigio said, with presence
of mind, ‘“‘as it has been prophesied of
old:

“Riding on a beast that. flies,” said the
old priest, ‘‘even as the oracle declared.
Glory to Pachacamac, even though we die to-
day!”

“In what can I help my people?” said
Prigio.

‘Thou knowest; why should we instruct
thee? Thou knowest that on midsummer-day,
every year, before the shadow shrinks back to
the base of the huaca* of Manoa, we must offer
a maiden to lull the Earthquaker with a new
song. Lo, now the shadow shrinks to the foot
of the huaca, and the maid is not offered! For
the lot fell on the daughter of thy servant the

* Huaca, sacred stone.
PRINCE RICARDO. 223

 

Inca, and he refuses to give her up. One
daughter of his, he says, has been sacrificed to
the sacred birds, the Cunturs: the birds were
found slain on the hill-top, no man knows how;
but the maiden vanished.

“Why, it must have been Jaqueline. I
-killed the birds,’ said Ricardo, in Pantou-
flian.
‘Silence, not a word!” said the king,
sternly.

“And what makes you bear arms against the
Inca ?” he asked the old man.

“‘ We would slay him and her,” answered the
priest; ‘‘for, when the shadow shrinks to the
foot of the stone, the sun will shine straight
down into the hollow hill of the Earthquaker,
and he will waken and destroy Manoa and the
Temples of the Sun.”

‘“¢ Then wherefore would you slay them, when
you must all perish?”

‘The people, oh Pachacamac, would have
revenge before they die.”

“Oh, folly of men!” said the king, solemnly ;
then he cried: ‘‘Lead me to the Inca; this
day you shall not perish. Is it not predicted
in the Cord of the Venerable Knots that I
shall slay this monster ?”

““Hasten, oh Pachacamac, for the shadow
shortens! ’’ said the priest.

“‘ Lead me to the Inca,”’ answered Prigio.

At this the people arose with a great shout,
224 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

for they, too, had been kneeling; and, sending
a flag of truce before King Prigio, the priest
led him into the palace. The ground was
strewn with bodies of the slain, and through
them Prigio rode slowly into the courtyard,
where the Inca was sitting in the dust, weeping
and throwing ashes on his long hair and his
golden raiment. The king bade the priest
remain without the palace gates; then dis-
mounted, and, advancing to the Inca, raised
him and embraced him.

““T come, a king toa king,” he said. ‘‘My
cousin, take courage; your sorrows are ended.
If I do not slay the Earthquaker, sacrifice me
to your gods.”

“The Prophecy is fulfilled,” said the Inca,
and wept for joy. ‘‘ Yet thou must hasten, for
it draws near to noon.”

Then Prigio went up to the golden battle-
ments, and saying no word, waved his hand.
In a moment the square was empty, for
the people rushed to give thanks in the
temples.

“Wait my coming, my cousin,” said Prigio
to the Inca; “I shall bring you back the
daughter that was lost, when I have slain your
enemy.”

The Inca would have knelt at his feet;
but the king raised him, and bade him pre-
pare such a feast as had never been seen in
Manoa.
PRINCE RICARDO. 225

 

“The lost are found to-day,” he said; ‘‘be
you ready to welcome them.”

Then, mounting the Flying Horse, with Dick
beside him, he rose towards the peak of the
hill where the Earthquaker had his home.
Already the ground was beginning to tremble ;
the Earthquaker was stirring in his sleep, for
the maiden of the new song had not been sent
to him, and the year ended at noon, and then
he would rise and ruin Manoa.

The sun was approaching mid-day, and Prigio
put spurs to the Flying Horse. Ten minutes
more, and the sun would look straight down
the crater of the hollow hill, and the Earth-
quaker would arouse himself when the lght
and the heat fell on his body.

Already the light of the sun shone slanting
half-way down the hollow cone as the whirl-
pool of air caught the Flying Horse, and drew
him swiftly down and down to the shadowy
halls. There knelt and wept the nurses of
the Earthquaker on the marble floor; but
Jaqueline stood a little apart, very pale, but
not weeping.

Ricardo had leaped off before the horse
touched the ground, and rushed to Jaqueline,
and embraced her in his arms; and, oh! how
glad she was to see him, so that she quite
forgot her danger and laughed for joy.

“Oh! you have come, you have come; I
knew you would come!” she cried.
226 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

Then King Prigio advanced, the mighty
weight in his hand, to the verge of the dreadful
gulf of the Earthquaker. The dim walls grew
radiant; a long slant arm of yellow light
touched the black body of the Earthquaker, and
a thrill went through him, and shook the world,
so that, far away, the bells rang in Pantouflia.
A moment more, and he would waken in his
strength; and once awake, he would shatter
the city walls, and ruin Manoa. Even now a
great mass of rock fell from the roof deep
down in the secret caves, and broke into
flying fragments, and all the echoes roared
and rang.

King Prigio stood with the mighty mass.
poised in his hands.

Die!” he cried; and he uttered the words
of power, the magic spell that the dark Moon
Lady had taught him.

Then all its invincible natural weight came
into the mass which the king held, and down it
shot full on the body of the Earthquaker; and
where that had been was nothing but a vast
abyss, silent, empty, and blank, and bottom-
less.

Far, far below, thousands of miles below, in
the very centre of the earth, lay the dead
Earthquaker, crushed flat as a sheet of paper,.
and the sun of midsummer-day shone straight
down on the dreadful chasm, and could not
waken him any more for ever.
PRINCE RICARDO. 227

 

The king drew a long breath.

*‘Stupidity has saved the world,’ he said;
and, with only strength to draw back one step
from the abyss, he fell down, hiding his face in
his hands.

But Jaqueline’s arms were round his neck,
and the maidens brought him water from an
ice-cold spring; and soon King Prigio was
himself again, and ready for anything. But
afterwards he used to say that the moment
when the Earthquaker stirred was the most
dreadful in his life.

Now, in Manoa, where all the firm founda-
tions of the city had trembled once, when the
sun just touched the Earthquaker, the people,
seeing that the shadow of the sacred column
had crept to its foot, and yet Manoa stood
firm again, and the Temple of the Sun
was not overthrown, raised such a cry that
it echoed even through the halls within the
hollow hill.

Who shall describe the joy of the maidens,
and how often Jaqueline and Ricardo kissed
each other ?

“You have saved me!” she cried to the king,
throwing her arms round him again. ‘‘ You
have saved Manoa!”

“And you have saved the Hope of Pan-
touflia, not once or twice,” said his Majesty,
grandly.

And he told Dick how much he had owed to
228 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

Jaqueline, in the fight with the Yellow Dwarf,
and the fight with the Giant, for he did not
think it necessary to mention the affair at
Rome.

Then Dick kissed Jaqueline again, and all
the maidens kissed each other, and they quite
cried for gladness.

“But we keep his Majesty the Inca waiting,”
said Prigio. ‘‘ Punctuality is the courtesy
of kings. You ladies will excuse me, I am
sure, if I remove first from the dungeon her
whom we call the Princess Jaqueline. The
Inca, her father, has a claim on us to this
preference.”

Then placing Jaqueline on the saddle, and
. leaving Dick to comfort the other young ladies,
who were still rather nervous, the king flew
off to Manoa, for the wind, of course, died
with the death of the Earthquaker.

I cannot tell you the delight of all Manoa,
and of the Inca, when they saw the Flying
Horse returning, and recognised their long-lost
princess, who rushed into the arms of her
father. They beat the serpent drums, for they
had no bells, on the tops of the temples. They
went quite mad with delight: enemies kissed
in the streets; and all the parents, without
exception, allowed all the young people who
happened to be in love to be married that very
day. Then Prigio brought back all the maidens,
one after the other, and Dick last; and he fell
PRINCE RICARDO. 229

 

at the Inca’s feet, and peauceted leave to marry
Jaqueline.

But, before that could be done, King Prigio,
mounted on the palace balcony, made a long
but very lucid speech to the assembled people.
He began by explaining that he was not their
God, Pachacamac, but king of a powerful country
of which they had never heard before, as they
lived very much withdrawn in an unknown
region of the world. Then he pointed out, in
the most considerate manner, that their religion
was not all he could wish, otherwise they would
never sacrifice young ladies to wild birds and
Earthquakers. He next sketched out the
merits of his own creed, that of the Lutheran
Church; and the Inca straightway observed
that he proposed to establish it in Manoa at
once.

Some objection was raised by the old priest
in the skull mask; but when the Inca promised
to make him an archbishop, and to continue all
his revenues, the priest admitted that he was
perfectly satisfied; and the general public
cheered and waved their hats with emotion.
It was arranged that the Inca, with his
other daughters, should visit Pantouflia im-
mediately, both because he could not bear
to leave Jaqueline, and also because there
were a few points on which he felt that he
still needed information. The Government
was left in the hands of the archbishop, who
230 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

began at once by burning his skull mask (you
may see one like it in the British Museum,
in the Mexican room), and by letting loose all
the birds and beasts which the Manoans used
to worship.

So all the young people were married in
the Golden Temple of the Sun, and all
the Earthquaker’s nurses who were under
thirty were wedded to the young men who
had been fond of them before they were
sent into the hollow hill. These young men
had never cared for any one else. Every-
body wore bridal favours, all the unengaged
young ladies acted as bridesmaids, and such
a throwing of rice and old shoes has very
seldom been witnessed. As for the happy
royal pair, with their fathers, and the other
princess (who did not happen to be engaged),
back they flew to Pantoufiia.

And there was Queen Rosalind waiting at
the palace gates, and crying and laughing with
pleasure when she heard that the wish of her
heart was fulfilled, and Jaqueline was to be her
daughter.

“And, as for the Earthquaker,” said her
Majesty, ‘I never was really anxious in the
least, for I knew no beast in the world was a
match for you, my dear.”

So, just to make everything orderly and
correct, Ricardo and Jaqueline were married
over again, in the Cathedral of Pantouflia. The
PRINCE RICARDO. 231

 

marriage presents came in afterwards, of course,
- and among them, what do you think? Why,
the Seven-League Boots and the Sword. of
Sharpness, with a very polite note of extra-
ordinary size:

“The Giant who does not Know when
he has had Enough presents his hearty
congratulations to the royal pair, and
begs to lay at their feet the Seven-league
Boots (they not fitting me) and the Sword
which Prince Ricardo left in the Giant’s
keeping recently. The Giant hopes no bad
blood; and I am,

“ Yours very faithfully,
“THE G., &c.

“P.S.—His little woman sends her con-
gratulations.”’

So you see the Giant was not such a bad
sort of fellow after all, and Prince Ricardo
always admitted that he never met a foe more
gallant and good-humoured.

With such a clever wife, Ricardo easily
passed all his examinations; and his little son,
Prince Prigio (named after his august grand-
father), never had to cry, ‘‘ Mamma, mamma,
father’s plucked again.”

So they lived happily in a happy country,
occasionally visiting Manoa; and as they pos-
232 PRINCE RICARDO.

 

 

sessed the magical Water of Life from the
Fountain of Lions, I do not believe that any of
them ever died at all, but that Prigio is still
King of Pantouflia.

““No need such kings should ever die!’’

 
THE

GOED, OF PFAIRNIEEE

16
TME GObD OF FAIRKNIBEE

Is

Dedicated

TO

JEANIE LANG,

LARRA

Dear Feame,

For you, fay away on the other side of the
world, I made this little tale of our own country.
Your father and I have dug for treasure in the
Camp of Rink, with our knives, when we were
doys. We did not find tt: the story will tell
you why.

Are there Fatries as well as Bunyips in

Australia? I hope so.

Yours always,

fi hows,
WHUPPITY: SrOORIE’S SONG

IN THIS TALE

IS BY THE AUTHOR’S FRIEND,

F. De Q. M.

16 *
 

The Old House.
‘The Gold of Faienilee.

CHAPTER I.
The Old House.

OU may still see the old Scotch house
where Randal was born, so long ago.
Nobody lives there now. Most of the
roof has fallen in, there is no glass
; in the windows, and all the doors are

open. They were open in the days of
’ Randal’s father—nearly four hundred years
have passed since then—and everyone who
came was welcome to his share of beef and
broth and ale. But now the doors are not
only open, they are quite gone, and there is
nobody within to give you a welcome.

So there is nothing but emptiness in the old
house where Randal lived with Jean, three
hundred and sixty years or so before you were
born. It is a high old house, and wide, with
the broken slates still on the roof. At the
corner there are little round towers, like pepper-
boxes, with sharp peaks. The stems of the
238 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

ivy that covers the walls are as thick as trees.
There are many trees crowding all round, and
there are hills round it too; and far below you
hear the Tweed whispering all day. The house
is called Fairnilee, which means ‘‘the Fairies’
Field;’’ for people believed in fairies, as you
shall hear, when Randal was a boy, and even
when my father was a boy.

Randal was all alone in the house when he
was a little fellow—alone with his mother, and
Nancy the old nurse, and Simon Grieve the
butler, who wore a black velvet coat and a big
silver chain. Then there were the maids, and
the grooms, and the farm folk, who were all
friends of Randal’s. He was not lonely, and
he did not feel unhappy, even before Jean
came, as you shall be told. But the grown-up
people were sad and silent at Fairnilee. Randal
had no father; his mother, Lady Ker, was a
widow. She was still quite young, and Randal
thought her the most beautiful person in the
world. Children think these things about
their mothers, and Randal had seen no ladies
but his mother only. She had brown hair and
brown eyes and red lips, and a grave kind face,
which looked serious under her great white
widow’s cap with the black hood over it.
Randal never saw his mother cry; but when
he was a very little child indeed, he had heard
her crying in the night: this was after his
father went away.
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 239.

 

CHAPTER II.

How Randal’s Father -Game Home.

ANDAL remembered his father’s going
A to fight the English, and how he came
AN back again. It was a windy August
evening when he went away: the rain

; had fallen since morning. Randal had
watched the white mists driven by the

gale down through the black pine-wood that
covers the hill opposite Fairnilee. The mist
looked like armies of ghosts, he thought,
marching, marching through the pines, with
their white flags flying and streaming. Then
the sun came out red at evening, and Randal’s
father rode away with all his men. He hada
helmet on his head, and a great axe hanging
from his neck by a chain, and a spear in his
hand. He was riding his big horse, Sir Hugh,
and he caught Randal up to the saddle and
kissed him many times before he clattered out
of the courtyard. All the tenants and men
about the farm rode with him, all with spears
and a flag embroidered with a crest in gold.
His mother watched them from the tower till
they were out of sight. And Randal saw them
240 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

ride away, not on hard, smooth roads like ours,
but along a green grassy track, the water
splashing up to their stirrups where they
crossed the marshes.

 

Then the sky turned as red as blood, in the
sunset, and next it grew brown, like the rust
on a sword; and the Tweed below, when
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 241

 

they rode the ford, was all red and gold and
brown.

Then time went on; that seemed a long
time to Randal. Only the women were left in
the house, and Randal played with the shep-
herd’s children. They sailed boats in the mill-
pond, and they went down to the boat-pool
and watched to see the big copper-coloured
salmon splashing in the still water. One
evening Randal looked up suddenly from his
play. It was growing dark. He had been
building a house with the round stones and
wet sand by the river. He looked up, and
there was his own father! He was riding all
alone, and his horse, Sir Hugh, was very lean
and lame, and scarred with the spurs. The
spear in his father’s hand was broken, and he
had no sword; and he looked neither to right
nor to left. His eyes were wide open, but he
seemed to see nothing.

Randal cried out to him, ‘‘Father! Father!”
but he never glanced at Randal. He did not
look as if he heard him, or knew he was there,
and suddenly he seemed to go away, Randal
did not know how or where.

Randal was frightened.

He ran into the house, and went to his
mother.

‘Oh, mother,” he said, ‘‘I have seen father!
He was riding all alone, and he would not look
at me. Sir Hugh was lame!”
242 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

‘Where has he gone?” said Lady Ker, ina
strange voice.

- “He went away out of sight,” said Randal.
“T could not see where he went.”

Then his mother told him it could not be,
that his father would not have come back
alone. He would not leave his men behind
him in the war.

But Randal was so sure, that she did not .
scold him. She knew he believed what he
said.

He saw that she was not happy.

All that night, which was the Fourth of Sep-
tember, in the year 1513, the day of Flodden
fight, Randal’s mother did not go to bed. She
kept moving about the house. Now she would
look from the tower window up Tweed; and
now she would go along the gallery and look
down Tweed from the other tower. She had
lights burning in all the windows. All next
day she was never still. She climbed, with
two of her maids, to the top of the hill above
Yair, on the other side of the river, and she
watched the roads down Ettrick and Yarrow.
Next night she slept little, and rose early.
About noon, Randal saw three or four men
riding wearily, with tired horses. They could
scarcely cross the ford of Tweed, the horses.
were so tired. The men were Simon Grieve
the butler, and some of the tenants. They
looked very pale; some of them had their
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 243.

 

heads tied up, and there was blood on their
faces. Lady Ker and Randal ran to meet
them.

Simon Grieve lighted from his horse, and
whispered to Randal’s mother.

Randal did not hear what he said, but his.
mother cried, ‘‘I knew it! I knew it!” and
turned quite white.

“Where is he?”’ she said.

Simon pointed across the hill. ‘They are
bringing the corp,” he said. Randal knew the
“corp”? meant the.dead body.

He began to cry. ‘‘ Where is my father?”
he said, ‘‘ where is my father?”

His mother led him into the house. She
gave him to the old nurse, who cried over him,
and kissed him, and offered him cakes, and
made him a whistle with a branch of plane
tree, So in a short while Randal only felt
puzzled. Then he forgot, and began to play.
He was a very little boy.

Lady Ker shut herself up in her own room—
her ‘‘ bower,” the servants called it.

Soon Randal heard heavy steps on the stairs,
and whispering. He wanted to run out, and
his nurse caught hold of him, and would not
have let him go, but he slipped out of her
hand, and looked over the staircase.

They were bringing up the body of a man
stretched on a shield.

It was Randal’s father.
244 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

He had been slain at Flodden, fighting for
the king. An arrow had gone through his
brain, and he had fallen beside James IV., with
many another brave knight, all the best of
Scotland, the Flowers of the Forest.

What was it Randal saw, when he thought
he met his father in the twilight, three days
before ?

He never knew. His mother said he must
have dreamed it all.

The old nurse used to gossip about it to the
maids. ‘He’s an unco’ bairn, oor Randal;
I wush he may na be fey.”

She meant that Randal was a strange child,
and that strange things would happen to him.
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 245

 

CHAPTER III.

How Jean was brought to Fairnilee.

JW(HE winter went by very sadly. At first

iT the people about Fairnilee expected the
ge English to cross the Border and march
against them. They drove their cattle

out on the wild hills, and into marshes

where only they knew the firm paths,

and raised walls of earth and stones—barmkyns,
they called them—round the old house; and
made many arrows
to shoot out of the
narrow windows
at the English.
Randal used to
like to see the
arrow-making
beside the fire at
night. He was not
afraid; and_ said
he would show the
English what he
could do with his
little bow. But
weeks went on and
no enemy came. Spring drew near, the snow
melted from the hills. One night Randal was

 
246 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

awakened by a great noise of shouting; he
looked out of the window, and saw bright
torches moving about. He heard the cows
“routing,” or bellowing, and the women
screaming. He thought the English had
come. So they had; not the English army,
but some robbers from the other side of the
Border. At that time the people on the south
side of Scotland and the north side of England
used to steal each other’s cows time about.
When a Scotch squire, or “laird,” like Ran-
dal’s father, had been robbed by the neighbour-
ing English, he would wait his chance and drive
away cattle from the English side. This time
most of Randal’s mother’s herds were seized,
by a sudden attack in the night, and were
driven away through the Forest to England.
Two or three of Lady Ker’s men were hurt by
the English, but old Simon Grieve took a
prisoner. He did this in a curious way. He
‘shot an arrow after the robbers as they rode
off, and the arrow pinned an Englishman’s
leg to the saddle, and even into his horse. The
horse was hurt and frightened, and ran away
right back to Fairnilee, where it was caught,
with the rider and all, for of course he could
not dismount.

They treated him kindly at Fairnilee, though
they laughed at him a good deal. They found
out from him where the English had come
from. He did not mind telling them, for he
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 247

 

was really a gipsy from Yetholm, where the
gipsies live, and Scot or Southron was all one
to him.

When old Simon Grieve knew who the
people were that had taken the cows, he was
not long in calling the men together, and trying
to get back what he had lost. Early one
April morning, a grey morning, with snow in
the air, he and his spearmen set out, riding
down through the Forest, and so into Liddes-
dale. When they came back again, there were
great rejoicings at Fairnilee. They drove most
of their own cows before them, anda great many
other cows that they had not lost; cows of the
English farmers. The byres and yards were
soon full of cattle, lowing and roaring, very
uneasy, and some of them with marks of the
spears that had goaded them across many a
ford, and up many a rocky pass in the hills.

Randal jumped downstairs to the great hall,
where his mother sat. Simon Grieve was
telling her all about it.

‘“‘Sae we drave oor ain kye hame, my lady,”
he said, ‘“‘and aiblins some orra anes that was
na oor ain. For-bye we raikit a’ the plenishing
oot o’ the ha’ o’ Hardriding, and a_ bonny
burden o’ tapestries, and plaids, and gear we
hae, to show for our ride.” *

* «We drove our own cattle home, and perhaps some
others that were not ours. And we took all the goods out
of the hall at Hardriding, and a pretty load of tapestries,
and rugs, and other things we have to show for our ride.”
248 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

Then he called to some of his men, who.
came into the hall, and cast down great piles.
of all sorts of spoil and booty, silver plate, and
silken hangings, and a heap of rugs, and car-
pets, and plaids, such as Randal had never
seen before, for the English were much richer
than the Scotch.

 

Randal threw himself on the pile of rugs and
began to roll on it.

“Oh, mother,” he cried suddenly, jumping:
up and looking with wide-open eyes, “‘ there’s
something living inthe heap! Perhaps it’s a
doggie, or a rabbit, or a kitten.”
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 249

 

Then Randal tugged at the cloths, and then
they all heard a little shrill cry.

“Why, it’s a bairn!” said Lady Ker, who
had sat very grave all the time, pleased to have
done the English some harm; for they had
killed her husband, and were all her deadly
foes. “It’s a bairn!” she cried, and pulled
out of the great heap of cloaks and rugs a
little beautiful child, in its white nightdress,
with its yellow curls all tangled over its blue ©
eyes.

Then Lady Ker and the old nurse could not
make too much of the pretty English child that
had come here in such a wonderful way.

How did it get mixed up with all the spoil ?
~ and how had it been carried so far on horse-
back without being hurt? Nobody ever knew.
It came as if the fairies had sent it. English
it was, but the best Scot could not hate such a
pretty child. Old Nancy Dryden ran up to
the old nursery with it, and laid it in a
great wooden tub full of hot water, and was
giving it warm milk to drink, and dandling
it, almost before the men knew what had
happened. :

“Yon bairn will be a bonny mate for you,
Maister Randal,” said old Simon Grieve.
“°’Deed, I dinna think her kin will come
speering* after her at Fairnilee. The Red
Cock’s crawing ower Hardriding Ha’ this day,

* Asking.

17
250 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

and when the womenfolk come back frae the
wood, they’ll hae other thing to do for-bye
looking for bairns.”

When Simon Grieve said that the Red Cock
was crowing over his enemies’ home, he meant
that he had set it on fire after the people who
lived in it had run away. :

Lady Ker grew pale when she heard what he
said. She hated the English, to be sure, but
she was a woman with a kind heart. She
thought of the dreadful danger that the little
English girl had escaped, and she went up-
stairs and helped the nurse to make the
child happy.
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 251

 

CHAPTER IV.

Randal and Jean.

HE little girl soon made everyone at

Tt Fairnilee happy. She was far too young
Qe to remember her own home, and pre-
sently she was crawling up and down

; the long hall and making friends with

Randal. They found out that her name
was Jane Musgrave, though she could hardly
say Musgrave; and they called her Jean, with
their Scotch tongues, or “‘Jean o’ the Kye,”
because she came when the cows were driven
home again.

Soon the old nurse came to ie her near as
well as Randal, ‘her ain bairn”’ (her own
child), as she called him. In the summer
days, Jean, as she grew older, would follow
Randal about like a little doggie. They went
fishing together, and Randal would pull the
trout out of Caddon Burn, or the Burn of
Peel; and Jeanie would be very proud of him,
and very much alarmed at the big, wide jaws
of the yellow trout. And Randal would plait
helmets with green rushes for her and him,
and make spears of bulrushes, and play at tilts

17 aK
252 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

and tournaments. There was peace in the
country; or if there was war, it did not come
near the quiet valley of the Tweed and the
hills that lie round Fairnilee. In summer
they were always on the hills and by the
burnsides. :

You cannot think, if you have not tried, what
pleasant company a burn is. It comes out of
the deep, black wells in the moss, far away on
the tops of the hills, where the sheep feed, and
the fox peers from his hole, and the ravens
build in the crags. The burn flows down from
the lonely places, cutting a way between steep,
green banks, tumbling in white waterfalls over
rocks, and lying in black, deep pools below the
waterfalls. At every turn it does something
new, and plays a fresh game with its brown
waters. The white pebbles in the water look
like gold: often Randal would pick one out
and think he had found a gold-mine, till he
got it into the sunshine, and then it was only
a white stone, what he called a “chucky-
stane;”” but he kept hoping for better luck
next time. | In the height of summer, when the
- streams were very low, he and the shepherd’s
boys would build dams of stones and turf
across a narrow part of the burn, while Jean
sat and watched them on a little round knoll.
Then, when plenty of water had collected in
the pool, they would break the dam and let it
all run downhill in a little flood; they called it
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 253

 

a ‘“hurly gush.” And in winter they would
slide on the black, smooth ice of the boat-pool,
beneath the branches of the alders.

Or they would go out with Yarrow, the shep-
herd’s dog, and follow the track of wild
creatures in the snow. The rabbit makes
marks like **, and the hare makes marks
like “’ ; but the fox’s track is just as if you
had pushed a piece of wood through the snow
—a number of cuts in the surface, going
straight along. When it was very cold, the
grouse and black-cocks would come into the
trees near the house, and Randal and Jean
would put out porridge for them to eat. And
the great white swans floated in from the
frozen lochs on the hills, and gathered round
open reaches and streams of the Tweed. It
was pleasant to be a boy then in the North.
And at.Hallow E’en they would duck for
apples in tubs of water, and burn nuts in the
fire, and look for the shadow of the lady
Randal was to marry, in the mirror; but he
only saw Jean looking over his shoulder.

The days were very short in winter, so far
North, and they would soon be driven into the
house. Then they sat by the nursery fire;
and those were almost the pleasantest hours,
for the old nurse would tell them old Scotch
stories of elves and fairies, and sing them old
songs. Jean would crawl close to Randal and
hold his hand, for fear the Red Etin, or some
254 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

other awful bogle, should get her: and in the
dancing shadows of the firelight she would
think she saw Whuppity Stoorie, the wicked
-old witch with the spinning-wheel; but it was

 

really nothing but the shadow of the wheel
that the old nurse drove with her foot—bivr,
birr—and that whirred and rattled as she span
and told her tale. For people span their cloth
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 255

 

at home then, instead of buying it from shops;
and the old nurse was a great woman for
spinning.

She was a great woman for stories, too, and
believed in fairies, and ‘‘ bogles,”’ as she called
them. Had not her own cousin, Andrew Tam-
son, passed the Cauldshiels Loch one New Year
morning? And had he not heard a dreadful
roaring, as if all the cattle on Faldonside Hill
were routing at once? And then did he not
see a great black beast roll down the hillside,
like a black ball, and run into the loch, which
grew white with foam, and the waves leaped
up the banks like a tide rising? What could
that be except the kelpie that lives in Cauld-
shiels Loch, and is just a muckle big water
bull? “And what for should there no be
water kye, if there’s land kye?”

Randal and Jean thought it was very likely
there were “‘kye,” or cattle, in the water. And
some Highland people think so still, and
believe they have seen the great kelpie come
roaring out of the lake; or Shellycoat, whose
skin is all crusted like a rock with shells,
sitting beside the sea.

The old nurse had other tales, that nobody
believes any longer, about Brownies. A
Brownie was a very useful creature to have in
a house. He was a kind of fairy-man, and he
came out in the dark, when everybody had
gone to bed, just as mice pop out at night.
256 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

He never did anyone any harm, but he sat and
warmed himself at the kitchen fire. If any
work was unfinished he did it, and made every-
thing tidy that was left out of order. It is a
pity there are no such bogles now! If any-
body offered the Brownie any payment, even if
it was only a silver penny or a new coat, he
would take offence and go away.

Other stories the old nurse had, about hidden
treasures and buried gold. If you believed
her, there was hardly an old stone on the hill-
side but had gold under it. The very sheep
that fed upon the Eildon Hills, which Randal
knew well, had yellow teeth because there was
so much gold under the grass. Randal had
taken two scones, or rolls, in his pocket for
dinner, and ridden over to the Eildon Hills.
He had seen:a rainbow touch one of them,
and there he hoped he would find the treasure
that always lies at the tail of the rainbow.
But he got very soon tired of digging for it
with his little dirk, or dagger. It blunted the
dagger, and he found nothing. Perhaps he
had not marked quite the right place, he
thought. But he looked at the teeth of the
sheep, and they were yellow; so he had no
doubt that there was a gold-mine under the
grass, if he could find it.

The old nurse knew that it was very difficult
to dig up fairy gold. Generally something
happened just when people heard their pick-
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 257

 

axes clink. on the iron pot that held the
treasure. A dreadful storm of thunder and
lightning would break out; or the burn would
be flooded, and rush down all red and roaring,
sweeping away the tools and drowning the
digger; or a strange man, that nobody had
ever seen before, would come up, waving his
arms, and crying out that the Castle was on
fire. Then the people would hurry up to the
Castle, and find that it was not on fire at all.
When they returned, all the earth would be
just as it was before they began, and they
would give up in despair. Nobody could ever
see the man again that gave the alarm.

“Who could he be, nurse ?”’ Randal asked.

‘Just one of the good folk, I’m thinking;
but it’s no weel to be speaking o’ them.”

Randal knew that the “good folk”? meant
the fairies. The old nurse called them the
good folk for fear of offending them. She
would not speak much about them, except now
and then, when the servants had been making
merry.

‘And is there any treasure hidden near
Fairnilee, nursie?” asked little Jean.

“Treasure, my bonny doo! Mair than a’
the men about the toon could carry away
frae morning till nicht. Do ye no ken the
auld rhyme ?>—

‘ Atween the wet ground and the dry
The gold of Fairnilee doth lie.’
258 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

And there’s the other auld rhyme—

‘ Between the Camp o’ Rink
And Tweed water clear,
Lie nine kings’ ransoms
For nine hundred year!’”

Randal and Jean were very glad to hear so
much gold was near them as would pay nine
kings’ ransoms. They took their small spades
and dug little holes in the Camp of Rink, which
is a great old circle of stonework, surrounded
by a deep ditch, on the top of a hill above the
house. But Jean was not a very good digger,
and even Randal grew tired. They thought
they would wait till they grew bigger, and then
find the gold.
-THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 259

 

46

CHAPTER V.

The Good Folk.

the old nurse one night when she was
ep bolder than usual. What she said
% we will put in English, not Scotch
: as she spoke it. ‘But they do not

like to be called fairies. So the old
rhyme runs:

Pe esas knows there’s fairies,’’ said

‘If ye call me imp or elf,
I warn you look well to yourself;
If ye call me fairy,
Ye’ll find me quite contrary ;
If good neighbour you call me,
Then good neighbour I will be;
But if you call me kindly sprite,
I’ll be your friend both day and night.’

So you must always call them ‘good neigh-
bours’ or ‘good folk,’ when you speak of

them.”

“Did you ever see a fairy, nurse?” asked

Randal.
“Not myself, but my mother knew a woman

—they called her Tibby Dickson, and her hus-

band was a shepherd, and she had a bairn, as
bonny a bairn as ever you saw. And one day
, 260 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

she went to the well to draw water, and as she
was coming back she heard a loud scream in
her house. Then her heart leaped, and fast
she ran and flew to the cradle; and there she
saw an awful sight—not her own bairn, but a
withered imp, with hands like a mole’s, and a
face like a frog’s, and a mouth from ear to ear,
and two great staring eyes.”

“What was it?” asked Jeanie, in a trem-
bling voice.

“A fairy’s bairn that had not thriven,” said
nurse; ‘‘and when their bairns do not thrive,.
they just steal honest folks’ children and carry
them away to their own country.”

“‘ And where’s that?” said Randal.

“Tt’s under the ground,” said nurse, “‘and
there they have gold and silver and diamonds ;
and there’s the Queen of them all, that’s as.
beautiful as the day. She has yellow hair down
to her feet, and she has blue eyes, like the sky
on a fine day, and her voice like all the mavises.
singing in the spring. And she is aye dressed
in green, and all her court in green; and she.
rides a white horse with golden bells on the
bridle.”

‘“«T would like to go there and see her,” said
Randal.

“‘Oh, never say that, my bairn; you never
know who may hear you! And if you go there,.
how will you come back again? and what will
your mother do, and Jean here, and me that’s.
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 261

 

carried you many a time in weary arms when
you were a babe?”

-Can’t people come back again?” .asked
Randal.

‘Some say ‘ Yes,’ and some say ‘No.’ There
was Tam Hislop, that vanished away the day
before all the lads and your own father went
forth to that weary war at Flodden, and the
English, for once, by guile, won the day. Well,
Tam Hislop, when the news came that all must
arm and mount and ride, he could nowhere be
found. It was as if the wind had carried him
away. High-and low they sought him, but
there was his clothes and his jack,* and his
sword and his spear, but no Tam Hislop.
Well, no man heard more of him for seven
whole years, not till last year, and then he
came back: sore tired he looked, ay, and older
than when he was lost. And I met him by the
well, and I was frightened; and ‘Tam,’ I said,
‘where have ye been this weary time?’ ‘I
have been with them that I will not speak the
name of, says he. ‘Ye mean the good folk,’
said I. ‘Ye have said it,’ says he. Then I
went up to the house, with my heart in my
mouth, and I met Simon Grieve. ‘Simon,’ I
says, ‘here’s Tam Hislop come home from the
good folk.’ ‘I'll soon send him back to them,’
says he. And he takes.a great rungt and lays
it about Tam’s shoulders, calling him coward

* Jack, a kind of breastplate. + Rung, a staff.
262 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

loon, that ran away from the fighting. And
since then Tam has never been seen about the
place. But the Laird’s man, of Gala, knows.
them that say he was in Perth the last seven
years, and not in Fairyland at all. But it was
Fairyland he told me, and he would not lie to
his own mother’s half-brother’s cousin.”

Randal did not care much for the story of
Tam Hislop. A fellow who would let old
Simon Grieve beat him could not be worthy of
the Fairy Queen.

Randal was about thirteen now, a tall boy,
with dark eyes, black hair, a brown face with
the red on his cheeks. He had grown up ina
country where everything was magical and
haunted; where fairy knights rode on the leas
after dark, and challenged men to battle.
Every castle had its tale of Redcap, the sly
spirit, or of the woman of the hairy hand.
Every old mound was thought to cover hidden
gold. And all was so lonely; the green hills
rolling between river and river, with no men
on them, nothing but sheep, and grouse, and-
plover. No wonder that Randal lived in a kind
of dream. He would lie and watch the long
grass till it looked like a forest, and he thought
he could see elves dancing between the green
grass stems, that were like fairy trees. He:
kept wishing that he, too, might meet the:
Fairy Queen, and be taken into that other
world where everything was beautiful.
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 263

 

CHAPTER VI.
Lhe Wishing Well.

« JEAN,” said Randal one midsummer day,
“T am going to the Wishing Well.”
‘‘Oh, Randal,” said Jean, “it is so far
away!”
“T can walk it,’ said Randal, “‘and
you must come, too; I want you, Jeanie.
It’s not so very far.”

“But mother says it is wrong to go to
Wishing Wells,” Jean answered.

“‘ Why is it wrong?” said Randal, switching
at the tall foxgloves with a stick.

‘Oh, she says it, is a wicked thing, and for-
bidden by the Church. People who go to wish
there, sacrifice to the spirits of the well;
and Father Francis told her that it was very
wrong.”

‘“‘ Father Francis is a shaveling,” said Randal.
“‘T heard Simon Grieve say so.”

“‘ What’s a shaveling, Randal?”

“Tt don’t know: a man that does not fight, I
think. I don’t, care what a shaveling says: so
I mean just to go and wish, and I won’t sacri-,
264 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

fice anything. There can’t be any harm in
that |!”

“But, oh Randal, you’ve got your green
doublet on!”

“Well! why not?”

“Do you not know it angers the fair—I mean
the good folk,—that anyone should wear green
on the hill but themselves ?”’

“T cannot help it,” said Randal. “If I go
in and ce ‘my doublet, they will ask what I
do that for. I’ll chance it, green or grey, and
wish my wish for all that.”

** And what are you going to wish?”

1 ’m going to wish to meet the Fairy Queen !
Just think how beautiful she must be! dressed
all in green, with gold bells on her bridle, and
riding a white horse shod with gold! I think I
see her galloping through the woods and out
across the hill, over the heather.”

“But you will 8° away with her, and never
see me any more,” said Jean.

“No, I won’t; or if I do, I’ll come back,
with such a horse, and a sword with a gold
handle. I’m going to the Wishing Well.
Come on!”

Jean did not like to say “No,” and off they
went.

Randal and Jean started without taking any-
thing with them to eat. They were afraid to
go back to'the house for food. Randal said
they would be sure to find something some-
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 265

where. The Wishing Well was on the top of
a hill between Yarrow and Tweed. So they
took off their shoes, and waded the Tweed at
the shallowest part, and then they walked up
the green grassy bank on the other side, till

 

they came to the burn of Peel. Here they
passed the old square tower of Peel, and the
shepherd dogs came out and barked at them.
Randal threw a.stone at.them, and they ran
away with their-tails between their legs.
“Don’t you think we had better go into Peel,
and get some bannocks to eat on the way,
Randal?” said Jean. ,
18
266 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

But Randal said he was not hungry; and,
besides, the people at Peel would tell the
Fairnilee people where they had gone.

‘We'll wish for things to eat when we get to
the Wishing Well,” said Randal. “All sorts
of good things—cold venison pasty, and every-
thing you like.”

So they began climbing the hill, and they
followed the Peel burn. It ran in and out,
winding this way and that, and when they did
get to the top of the hill, Jean was very tired
and very hungry. And she was very dis- ©
appointed. For she expected to see some
wonderful new country at her feet, and there
was only a low strip of sunburnt grass and
heather, and then another hill-top! So Jean
sat down, and the hot sun blazed on her, and
the flies buzzed about her and. tormented her.

“‘Come on, Jean,” said Randal; ‘‘it must be
over the next hill!”

So poor Jean got up and followed him, but
he walked far too fast for her. When she
reached the crest of the next hill, she found a
great cairn, or pile of grey stones; and beneath
her lay, far, far below, a deep valley covered
with woods, and a stream running through it
that she had never seen before.

That stream was the Yarrow.

Randal was nowhere in sight, and she did
not know where to look for the Wishing Well.
If she had walked straight forward through the
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 267

 

trees she would have come to it; but she was
so tired, and so hungry, and so hot, that she
sat down at the foot of the cairn and cried as
if her heart would break.

Then she fell asleep.

When Jean woke, it was as dark as it ever
is on a midsummer night in Scotland.

It was a soft, cloudy night; not a clear night
with a silver sky.

Jeanie heard a loud roaring close to her, and
the red light of a great fire was in her sleepy
eyes.

In the firelight she saw strange black beasts,
with horns, plunging and leaping and bellow-
ing, and dark figures rushing about the flames.
It was the beasts that made the roaring. They

 
268 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

were bounding about close to the fire, and
sometimes in it, and were all mixed in the
smoke.

Jeanie was dreadfully frightened, too fright-
ened to scream.

Presently she heard the voices of men shout-
ing on the hill below her. The shouts and the
barking of dogs came nearer and nearer.

Then a dog ran up to her, and licked her
face, and jumped about her.

It was her own sheepdog, Yarrow.

He ran back to the men who were following
him, and came again with one of them.

It was old Simon Grieve, very tired, and so
much out of breath that he could scarcely
speak.

Jean was very glad to see him, and not
frightened any longer.

“Oh, Jeanie, my doo’,”’ said Simon, “ where
hae ye been? A muckle gliff ye hae gien us,
and a weary spiel up the weary braes.”

Jean told him all about it: how she had
come with Randal to see the Wishing Well,
and how she had lost him, and fallen asleep.

“And sic a nicht for you bairns to wander
on the hill,” said Simon. ‘It’s the nicht o’
St. John, when the guid folk hae power. And
there’s a’ the lads burning the Bel fires, and
driving the nowt * through them: nae less will
serve them. Sica nicht!”

* Nowt, cattle,
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 269

This was the cause of the fire Jean saw, and
of the noise of the cattle. On midsummer’s
night the country people used to light these
fires, and drive the cattle through them. It
was an old, old custom come down from
heathen times.
| Now the other men from Fairnilee. had
gathered round Jean. Lady Ker had sent
them out to look for Randal and her on the
hills. They had heard from the good wife at
Peel that the children had gone up the burn,
and Yarrow had tracked them till Jean was
found.
270 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

CHAPTER VII.
Where is Randal?

EAN was found, but where was Randal?
s She told the men who had come out to

J look for her, that Randal had gone on

to look for the Wishing Well. So they
; rolled her up in a big shepherd’s plaid,

and two of them carried Jean home in
the plaid, while all the rest, with lighted
torches in their hands, went to look for Randal
through the wood.

Jean was so tired that she fell asleep again
in her plaid before they reached Fairnilee.
She was wakened by the men shouting as they
drew near the house, to show that they were
coming home. Lady Ker was waiting at the
gate, and the old nurse ran down the grassy
path to meet them.

‘‘Where’s my bairn?”’ she cried as soon as
she was within call.

The men said, ‘‘Here’s Mistress Jean, and
Randal will be here soon; they have gone to
look for him.” »

‘‘ Where are they looking?” cried nurse.

“Just about the Wishing Well.”

The nurse gave a scream, and hobbled back
to Lady Ker.
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 271

‘Ma bairn’s tint !”’* she cried, “ma bairn’s
tint! They ’ll find him never. The good folk
have stolen him away from that weary Wishing
Well!”

‘‘Hush, nurse,” said Lady Ker, ‘‘do not
frighten Jean.”

She spoke to the men, who had no doubt
that Randal would soon be found and brought
home.

So Jean was put to bed, where she forgot all
her troubles; and Lady Ker waited, waited, all
night, till the grey light began to come in,
about two in the morning.

Lady Ker kept very still and quiet, telling
her beads, and praying. But the old nurse
would never be still, but was always wandering
out, down to the river’s edge, listening for the
shouts of the shepherds coming home. Then
she would come back again, and moan and
wring her hands, crying for ‘‘ her bairn.”

About six o’clock, when it was broad day-
light and all the birds were singing, the men
returned from the hill.

But Randal did not come with them.

Then the old nurse set up a great cry, as the
country people do over the bed of someone
who has just died.

Lady Ker sent her away, and called Simon
Grieve to her own room.

“You have not found the boy yet?” she

* Tint, lost.
272 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

said, very stately and pale. ‘“‘He must have
wandered over into Yarrow; perhaps he has-
gone as far as Newark, and passed the night
at the castle, or with the shepherd at Foul-
shiels.”’

“No, my Lady,” said Simon Grieve, ‘‘ some
o’ the men went over to Newark, and some to

Foulshiels, and other some down to Sir John
- Murray’s at Philiphaugh; but there’s nevera
word o’ Randal in a’ the country-side.”

“Did you find no trace of him?” said Lady
Ker, sitting down suddenly in the great arm-
chair.

“We went first through the wood, my Lady,
by the path to the Wishing Well. And he had
been there, for the whip he carried in his hand
was lying on the grass. And we found ¢hs.”

He put his hand in his pouch, and brought
out a little silver crucifix, that Randal used
always to wear round his neck on a chain.

“This was lying on the grass beside the
Wishing Well, my Lady ie

Then he stopped, for. Lady Ker had swooned
away. She was worn out with watching and
with anxiety about Randal.

Simon went and called the maids, and they
brought water and wine, and soon Lady Ker
came back to herself, with the little silver
crucifix in her hand.

The old nurse was crying, and making a
great noise.

 
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 273

 

“The good folk have taken ma bairn,” she
said, ‘‘this nicht o’ a’ the nichts.in the year,
when the fairy folk—preserve us frae them !—
have power. But they could nae take the
blessed rood o’ grace; it was beyond their
strength. If gipsies, or robber folk frae the
Debatable Land, had carried away the bairn,
they would hae taken him, cross anda’. But
the guid folk have gotten him, and Randal
Ker will never, never mair come hame to
bonny Fairnilee.”

What the old nurse said was what everybody
thought. Even Simon Grieve shook his head,
and did not like it.

But Lady Ker did not give up hope. She
sent horsemen through all the country-side:
up Tweed to the Crook, and to Talla; up
Yarrow, past Catslack Tower, and on to the
Loch of Saint Mary; up Ettrick to Thirlestane
and Buccleugh, and over to Gala, and to
‘Branxholme in Teviotdale; and even to Her-
mitage Castle, far away by Liddel water.

They rode far and rode fast, and at every
cottage and every tower they asked “ had any-
one seen a boy in green?” But nobody had°
seen Randal through all the country - side.
Only a shepherd lad, on Foulshiels hill, had
heard bells ringing in the night, and a sound
of laughter go past him, like a breeze of wind
over the heather.

Days went by, and all the country was out
274. THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

to look for Randal. Down in Yetholme they
sought him, among the gipsies; and across
the Eden in merry Carlisle; and through the
Land Debatable, where the robber Armstrongs
and Grahames lived; and far down Tweed,
past Melrose, and up Jed water, far into the
Cheviot hills.

But there never came any word of Randal.
He had vanished as if the earth had opened
and swallowed him. Father Francis came
from Melrose Abbey, and prayed with Lady
Ker, and gave her all the comfort he could.
He shook his head when he heard of the
Wishing Well, but he said that no spirit of
earth or air could have power for ever over a
Christian soul. But, even when he spoke, he
remembered that, once in seven years, the
fairy folk have to pay a dreadful tax, one of
themselves, to the King of a terrible country of
Darkness; and what if they had stolen Randal,
to pay the tax with um!

This was what troubled good Father Francis,
though, like a wise man, he said nothing about
it, and even put the thought away out of his
own mind.

But you may be sure that the old nurse had
thought of this tax on the fairies too, and that
she did not hold her peace about it, but spoke
to everyone that would listen to her, and would
have spoken to the mistress if she had been
allowed. But when she tried to begin, Lady
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 275.

 

Ker told her that she had put her own trust in
Heaven, and in the Saints. And she gave the
nurse such a look when she said that, ‘‘if ever
Jean heard of this, she would send nurse away
from Fairnilee, out of the country,” that the
old woman was afraid, and was quiet.

As for poor Jean, she was perhaps the most
unhappy of them all. She thought to herself,
if she had refused to go with Randal to the
Wishing Well, and had run in and told Lady
Ker, then Randal would never have started to
find the Wishing Well. And she put herself
in great danger, as she fancied, to find him.
She wandered alone on the hills, seeking all
the places that were believed to be haunted by
fairies.

At every Fairy Knowe, as the country people
called the little round green knolls in the midst
of the heather, Jean would stoop her ear to the
ground, trying to hear the voices of the fairies
within. For it was believed that you might
hear the sound of their speech, and the tramp-
ling of their horses, and the shouts of the fairy
children. But no sound came, except the song
of the burn flowing by, and the hum of gnats
in the air, and the gock, gock, the cry of the
grouse, when you frighten him in the heather.

Then Jeanie would try another way of
meeting the fairies, and finding Randal. She
would walk nine times round a Fairy Knowe,
beginning from the left side, because then it
276 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

was fancied that the hill-side would open,
like a door, and show a path into Fairyland.
But the hill-side never opened, and she never
saw a single fairy; not even old Whuppity
Stoorie sit with her spinning-wheel in a green
glen, spinning grass into gold, and singing
her fairy song :—

“T once was young and fair,
My eyes were bright and blue,
As if the sun shone through,
And golden was my hair.

“Down to my feet it rolled
Ruddy and ripe like corn,
Upon an autumn morn,

In heavy waves of gold.

“ Now am I grey and old,
And so I sit and spin,
With trembling hand and thin,
This metal bright and cold.

“‘T would give all the gain,
These heaps of wealth untold
Of hard and glittering gold,
Could I be young again!”
FHE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 277

 

CHAPTER VIII.

(perdi Nears.

golden with the heather; and the red

coral berries of the rowan trees hung

from the boughs, and were wet with the

spray of the waterfalls in the burns. And

days grew shorter, and winter came with
snow, but Randal never came back to Fairnilee.
Season after season passed, and year after year.
Lady Ker’s hair grew white like snow, and her
face thin and pale—for she fasted often, as was
the rule of her Church; all this was before the
Reformation. And she slept little, praying half
the night for Randal’s sake. And she went on
pilgrimages to many shrines of the Saints: to
St. Boswell and St. Rule’s, hard by the great
Cathedral of St. Andrew’s on the sea. Nay,
she went across the Border as far as the Abbey
of St. Alban’s, and even to St. Thomas’s shrine
of Canterbury, taking Jean with her. Manya
weary mile they rode over hill and dale, and
many an adventure they had, and ran many
dangers from robbers, and soldiers disbanded
from the wars.

S autumn came, and all the hill-sides were
©)
278 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

But at last they had to come back to Fair-
nilee; and a sad place it was, and silent
without the sound of Randal’s voice in the
hall, and the noise of his hunting-horn in the
woods. None of the people wore mourning
for him, though they mourned in their hearts.
For to put on black would look as if they had
given up all hope. Perhaps most of them
thought they would never see him again, but
Jeanie was not one who despaired.

The years that had turned Lady Ker’s hair
white, had made Jean a tall, slim lass—‘“‘ very
bonny,” everyone said; and the country people
called her the Flower of Tweed. The Yarrow
folk had their Flower of Yarrow, and why not
the folk of Tweedside? It was now six years
since Randal had been lost, and Jeanie was
grown a young woman, about seventeen years
old. She had always kept a hope that if
Randal was with the Fairy Queen he would
return perhaps in the seventh year. People
said on the country-side that many a man and
woman had escaped out of Fairyland after
seven years’ Imprisonment there.

Now the sixth year since Randal’s disappear-
ance began very badly, and got worse as it
went on. ‘Just when spring should have been
beginning, in the end of February, there came
the most dreadful snowstorm. It blew and
snowed, and blew again, and the snow was as
fine as the dust on a road in summer. The
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 279

strongest shepherds could not hold their own
against the tempest, and were “‘smoored” (or
smothered) in the waste. The flocks moved
down from the hill-sides, down and down, till
all the sheep on a farm would be gathered
together in a crowd, under the shelter of a
wood in some deep dip of the hills. The storm
seemed as if it would never cease; for thirteen
days the snow drifted and the wind blew.
There was nothing for the sheep to eat, and if
there had been hay enough, it would have been
impossible to carry it to them. The poor
beasts bit at the wool on each other’s backs,
and so many of them died that the shepherds
built walls with the dead bodies to keep the
wind and snow away from those that were left
alive.

There could be little work done on the farm
that spring; and summer came in so cold and
wet that the corn could not ripen, but was
levelled to the ground. Then autumn was
rainy, and the green sheaves lay out in the
fields, and sprouted and rotted; so that little
corn was reaped, and little flour could be made
that year. Then in winter, and as spring came
on, the people began to starve. They had no
grain, and there were no potatoes in those
days, and no rice; nor could corn be brought
in from foreign countries. So men and women
and children might be seen in the fields, with
white pinched faces, gathering nettles to make
280 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

soup, and digging for roots that were often
little better than poison. They ground the
bark of the fir trees, and mixed it with the little
flour they could get; and they ate such beasts
as never are eaten except in time of famine.

It is said that one very poor woman and her
daughter always looked healthy and plump in
these dreadful times, till people began to suspect
them of being witches. And they were taken,
and charged before the Sheriff with living by
witchcraft, and very likely they would have
been burned. So they confessed that they had
fed ever since the famine began—on snails!
But there were not snails enough for all the
country-side, even if people had cared to eat
them. So many men and women died, and
more were very weak and ill.

Lady Ker spent all her money in buying food
for her people. Jean and she lived on as little
as they could, and were as careful as they could
be. They sold all the beautiful silver plate,
except the cup that Randal’s father used to
drink out of long ago. But almost everything
else was sold to buy corn.

So the weary year went on, and Midsummer
Night came round—the seventh since the night
when Randal was lost.

Then Jean did what she had always meant
to do. In the afternoon she slipped out of the
house. of Fairnilee, taking a little bread in a
basket, and saying that she would go to see the
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 281

 

farmer’s wife at Peel, which was on the other
side of Tweed. But her mind was to go to
the Wishing Well. There she would wish for
Randal back again, to help his mother in the
evil times. And if she, too, passed away as he
had passed out of sight and hearing, then at

 

least she might meet him in that land where
he had been carried. How strange it seemed
to Jean to be doing everything over again that
she had done seven years before. Then she
had been a little girl, and it had been hard
work for her to climb up the side of the Peel

19
282 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

burn. Now she walked lightly and quickly, for
she was tall and well-grown. Soon she reached
the crest of the first hill, and remembered how
‘she had sat down there and cried, when she
was a child, and how the flies had tormented
her. They were buzzing and teasing still; for
- good times or bad make no difference to them,
as long as the sun shines. Then she reached
the cairn at the top of the next hill, and far
below her lay the forest, and deep within it ran
Yarrow, glittering like silver.

 
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 283

 

Jean paused a few moments, and then struck
into a green path which led through the wood.
The path wound beneath dark pines; their top-
most branches were red in the evening light,
but the shade was black beneath them. Soon
the path reached a little grassy glade, and there
among cold, wet grasses was the Wishing Well.
It was almost hidden by the grass, and looked
very black, and cool, and deep. A tiny trickle
of water flowed out of it, flowed down to join
the Yarrow. The trees about it had scraps of
rags and other things pinned to them, offerings
made by the country people to the spirits of
the well.

Ig *
284 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

CHAPTER IX.
The White Roses.

EANIE sat down beside the well. She

| wished her three wishes: to see Randal,

J to win him back from Fairyland, and to

** help the people in the famine. Then she
knelt on the grass, and looked down into.

the well-water. At first she saw nothing

but the smooth black water, with little waves.
trembling init. Then the water began to grow
bright within, as if-the sun was shining far, far
below. Then it grew as clear as crystal, and
she saw through it, like a glass, into a new
country—a beautiful country with a wide green
plain, and in the midst of the plain a great
castle, with golden flags floating from the tops
of all the towers. Then she heard a curious
whispering noise that thrilled and murmured,
as if the music of all the trees that the wind
blows through the world were in her ears, as.
if the noise of all the waves of every sea, and
the rustling of heather-bells on every hill, and
the singing of all birds were sounding, low
and sweet, far, far away. Then she saw a
great company of knights and ladies, dressed
in green, ride up to the castle; and one knight
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE, 285

 

rode apart from the rest, on a milk-white steed.
They all went into the castle gates; but this
_ knight rode slowly and sadly behind the others,
with his head bowed on his breast.

Then the musical sounds were still, and the
castle and the plain seemed to wave in the
water. Next they quite vanished, and the well ©
grew dim, and then grew dark and black and
smooth as it had been before. Still she looked,
and the little well bubbled up with sparkling
foam, and so became still again, like a mirror,
till Jeanie could see her own face in it, and
beside her face came the reflection of another
face, a young man’s, dark, and sad, and
beautiful. The lips smiled at her, and then
Jeanie knew it was Randal. She thought he
must be looking over her shoulder, and she
leaped up with a cry, and glanced round.

But she was all alone, and the wood about
her was empty and silent. The light had gone
out of the sky, which was pale like silver, and
overhead she saw the evening star.

Then Jeanie thought all was over. She had
seen Randal as if it had been in a glass, and
she hardly knew him: he was so much older,
and his face was so sad. She sighed, and
turned to go away over the hills, back to
Fairnilee.

But her feet did not seem to carry her the
way she wanted to go. It seemed as if some-
thing within her were moving her in a kind of
286 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

dream. She felt herself going on through the
forest, she did not know where. Deeper into
the wood she went, and now it grew so dark |
that she saw scarce anything; only she felt the
fragrance of briar roses, and it seemed to her
that she was guided towards these roses. Then
she knew there was a hand in her hand, though
she saw nobody, and the hand seemed to lead
her on. And she came to an open place in the
forest, and there the silver light fell clear from
the sky, and she saw a great shadowy rose tree,
covered with white wild roses.

The hand was still in her hand, and Jeanie
began to wish for nothing so much in the world
as to gather some of these roses. She put out
her hand and she plucked one, and there before.
her stood a strange creature—a dwarf, dressed
in yellow and red, with a very angry face.

‘Who are you,” he cried, ‘that pluck my
roses without my will?”

** And who are you?” said Jeanie, trembling,
‘‘and what right have you on the hills of this
world?”

Then she made the holy sign of the cross,
and the face of the elf grew black, and the
light went out of the sky.

She only saw the faint glimmer of the white
flowers, and a kind of shadow standing where
the dwarf stood.

“‘T bid you tell me,” said Jeanie, ‘‘ whether
you are a Christian man, or a spirit that
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 287

 

> and she crossed him

dreads the holy sign,’
again.

Now all grew dark as the darkest winter’s
night. The air was warm and deadly still, and
heavy with the scent of the fairy flowers.

In the blackness and the silence, Jeanie made

 

 

the sacred sign for the third time. Then a clear
‘fresh wind blew on her face, and the forest
boughs were shaken, and the silver light grew
and gained on the darkness, and she began to
288 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

see a shape standing where the dwarf had
stood. It was far taller than the dwarf, and
the light grew and grew, and a star looked
down out of the night, and Jean saw Randal
standing by her. And she kissed him, and he
kissed her, and he put his hand in hers, and
they went out of the wood together. They
came to the crest of the hill and the cairn.
Far below them they saw the Tweed shining
through an opening among the trees, and the
lights in the farm of Peel, and they heard the
nightbirds crying, and the bells of the sheep
ringing musically as they wandered through
the fragrant heather on the hills.
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 289

 

 

CHAPTER X.
Out of Fairpland.

OU may fancy, if you can, what joy there

oe was in Fairnilee when Randal came
home. They quite forgot the hunger

and the hard times, and the old nurse

; laughed and cried over her bairn that
had grown into a tall, strong young man.

And to Lady Ker it was all one as if her
husband had come again, as he was when first
she knew him long ago; for Randal had his
face, and his eyes, and the very sound of his
voice. They could hardly believe he was not a
spirit, and they clasped his hands, and hung
on his neck, and could not keep their eyes off
him. This was the end of all their sorrow,
and it was as if Randal had come back from
the dead; so that no people in the world were
ever so happy as they were next day, when the
sun shone down on the Tweed and the green
trees that rustle in the wind round Fairnilee.
But in the evening, when the old nurse was
out of the way, Randal sat between his mother
and Jean, and they each held his hands, as if
they could not let him go, for fear he should
290 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

vanish away from them again. And they would
turn round anxiously if anything stirred, for
fear it should be the two white deer that some-
times were said to come for people escaped
from Fairyland, and then these people must
rise and follow them, and never return any

 

more. But the white deer never came for
Randal.

So he told them all his adventures, and all
that had happened to him since that mid-
summer night, seven long years ago.
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 2gor

 

It had been with him as it was with Jean.
He had gone to the Wishing Well, and wished
to see the Fairy Queen and Fairyland. And
he had seen the beautiful castle in the well,
and a beautiful woman’s face had floated up.

 

to meet his on the water. Then he had
gathered the white roses, and then he heard
a great sound of horses’ feet, and of bells.
jingling, and a lady rode up, the very lady he
had seen in the well. She had a white horse,.
292 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

and she was dressed in green, and she beckoned
to Randal to mount on her horse, with her
before him on the pillion. And the bells on
the bridle rang, and the horse flew faster than
the wind.

So they rode and rode through the summer
night, and they came to a desert place, and
living lands were left far behind. Then the
Fairy Queen showed him three paths, one
steep and narrow, and beset with briars and
thorns: that was the road to goodness and
happiness, but it was little trodden or marked
with the feet of people that had come and gone.

And there was a wide smooth road that went
through fields of lilies, and that was the path
of easy living and pleasure.

The third path wound about the wild hill-
side, through ferns and heather, and that was
the way to Elfland, and that way they rode.
And still they rode through a country of dark
night, and they crossed great black rivers, and
they saw neither sun nor moon, but they heard
the roaring of the sea. From that country
they came into the light, and into the beautiful
garden that lies round the castle of the Fairy
Queen. There they lived in a noble company
of gallant knights and fair ladies. All seemed
very mirthful, and they rode, and hunted, and
danced; and it was never dark night, nor
broad daylight, but like early summer dawn
‘before the sun has risen.
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 293

 

There Randal said that he had quite for-
gotten his mother and Jean, and the world
where he was born, and Fairnilee.

But one day he happened to see a beautiful
golden bottle of a strange shape, all set with
diamonds, and he opened it. There was in it
a, sweet-smelling water, as clear as crystal, and
he poured it into his hand, and passed his hand
over his eyes. Now this water had the power
to destroy the “glamour” in Fairyland, and
make people see it as it really was. And when
Randal touched his eyes with it, lo, everything
was changed in a moment. He saw that no-
thing was what it had seemed. The gold
vanished from the 5
embroidered cur-
tains, the light grew
dim and wretched
like a misty winter
day. The. Fairy
Queen, that had
seemed so happy
and beautiful in her
bright dress, was a
weary, pale woman
in black, with a
melancholy face and |
melancholy eyes. |:
She looked as if she ~
had been there for
thousands of years,

 
294 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

always longing for the sunlight and the earth,
and the wind and rain. There were sleepy
poppies twisted in her hair, instead of a golden
crown. And the knights and ladies were
changed. They looked but half alive; and
some, in place of their gay green robes, were
dressed in rusty mail, pierced with spears and
stained with blood. And some were in burial
robes of white, and some in dresses torn or
dripping with water, or marked with the
burning of fire. All were dressed strangely in
some ancient fashion; their weapons were old-
fashioned, too, unlike any that Randal had ever
seen on earth. And their festivals were not of
dainty meats, but of cold, tasteless flesh, and
of beans, and pulse, and such things as the
old heathens, before the coming of the Gospel,
used to offer to the dead. It was dreadful to
see them at such feasts, and dancing, and
riding, and pretending to be merry with hollow
faces and unhappy eyes.

And Randal wearied of Fairyland, which
now that he saw it clearly looked like a great
unending stretch of sand and barren grassy
country, beside a grey sea where there was no
tide. All the woods were of black cypress
trees and poplar, and a wind from the sea
drove a sea-mist through them, white and
cold, and it blew through the open courts of
the fairy castle.

So Randal longed more and more for the
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 295

 

old earth he had left, and the changes of
summer and autumn, and the streams of
Tweed, and the hills, and his friends. Then
the voice of Jeanie had come down to him,
sounding from far away. And he was sent
up by the Fairy Queen in a fairy form, as a
hideous dwarf, to frighten her away from the
white roses in the enchanted forest.

But her goodness and her courage had saved
him, for he was a christened knight, and not a
man of the fairy world. And he had taken his
own form again beneath her hand, when she
signed him with the Cross, and here he was,
safe and happy, at home at Fairnilee.
296 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

CHAPTER XI.

[he Fairy Bottle.

Ww soon grow used to the greatest
y changes, and almost forget the things
a that we were accustomed to before.
In a day or two, Randal had nearly
; forgotten what a dull life he had lived
in Fairyland, after he had touched
his eyes with the strange water in the fairy
bottle. He remembered the long, grey sands,
and the cold mist, and the white faces of the
strange people, and the gloomy queen, no more
‘than you remember the dream you dreamed a
week ago. But he did notice that Fairnilee
was not the happy place it had been before he
went away. Here, too, the faces were pinched
and white, and the people looked hungry. And
he missed many things that he remembered:
the silver cups, and plates, and tankards. And
the dinners were not like what they had been,
but only a little thin soup, and some oatmeal
cakes, and trout taken from the Tweed. The
beef and ale of old times were not to be found,
even in the houses of the richer people.
Very soon Randal heard all about the famine;
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 297

you may be sure the old nurse was ready to tell
him all the saddest stories.

‘Full many a place in evil case
Where joy was wont afore, oh!
Wi’ Humes that dwell in Leader braes,
And Scotts that dwell in Yarrow!”

And the old woman would croon her old pro-
phecies, and tell them how Thomas the
Rhymer, that lived in Ercildoune, had foretold
all this. And she would wish they could find
these hidden treasures that the rhymes were
full of, and that maybe were lying—who knew?
—dquite near them on their own lands.

“Where is the Gold of Fairnilee?” she
would cry; ‘‘and, oh, Randal! can you no
dig for it, and find it, and buy corn out of
England for the poor folk that are dying at
your doors?

‘ Atween the wet ground and the dry
The Gold o’ Fairnilee doth lie.’

There it is, with the sun never glinting on it;
there it may bide till the Judgment-day, and
no man the better for it.

‘Between the Camp o’ Rink
And Tweed water clear,
Lie nine kings’ ransoms

For nine hundred year.

299

“‘T doubt it’s fairy gold, nurse,” said Randal,
‘and would all turn black when it saw the sun.
20
298 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

It would just be like this bottle, the only thing
I brought with me out of Fairyland.”
Then Randal put his hand in his velvet

pouch,and brought
bottle.* It was
and was made of
none of them had
It was black, and
light through it,
green and yellow

 

out a curious small
shaped like this,
something that
ever seen before.
you could see the
and there were
spots and streaks

on it.

“That ugly bottle looked like gold and
diamonds when I found it in Fairyland,” said
Randal, “and the water in it smelled as sweet
as roses. But when I touched my eyes with it,
a drop that ran into my mouth was.as salt as
the sea, and immediately everything changed:
the gold bottle became this glass thing, and
the fairies became like folk dead, and the sky
grew grey, and all turned waste and ugly.
That’s the way with fairy gold, nurse; and if
you found it, even, it would all be dry leaves
and black bits of coal before the sun set.”

‘Maybe so, and maybe no,” said the old
nurse. “The Gold o’ Fairnilee may no be
fairy gold, but just wealth o’ this world that
folk buried here lang syne. But noo, Randal,
ma bairn, I maun gang out and see ma sister’s
son’s dochter, that’s lying sair sick o’ the kin-

* Tn bottles like this, the old Romans used to keep their
tears for-their dead friends,
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 299

 

cough* at Rink, and take her some of the
physic that I gae you and Jean when you were
bairns.”’

So the old nurse went out, and Randal and
Jean began to be sorry for the child she was
going to visit. For they remembered the taste
of the physic that the old nurse made by boil-
ing the bark of elder-tree branches; and I
remember it too, for it was the very nastiest
thing that ever was tasted, and did nobody
any good after all.

Then Randal and Jean walked out, strolling
along without much noticing where they went,
and talking about the pleasant days when they
were children.

* Kincough, whooping cough.
g ping

20 *
300 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

CHAPTER XII.
At the Gatrail.

HEY had climbed up the slope of a hill,
and they came to a broad old ditch,
beneath the shade of a wood of pine
trees. Below them was a wide marsh,
all yellow with marsh flowers, and above
them was a steep slope made of stones. |

Now the dry ditch, where they sat down on
the grass, looking towards the Tweed, with
their backs to the hill, was called the Catrail.
It ran all through that country, and must have
been made by men very long ago. Nobody
knows who made it, nor why. They did not
know in Randal’s time, and they do not know
now. They do not even know what the name
Catrail means, but that is what it has always
been called. The steep slope of stone above
them was named the Camp of Rink; it is a
round place, like a ring, and no doubt it was
built by the old Britons, when they fought
against the Romans, many hundreds of years
ago. The stones of which it is built are so
large that we cannot tell how men moved
them. But it is a very pleasant, happy place
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 301

 

on a warm summer day, like the day when
Randal and Jean sat there, with the daisies at
their feet, and the wild doves cooing above
their heads, and the rabbits running in and
out among the ferns.

Jean and Randal talked about this and that,
chiefly of how some money could be got to buy
corn and cattle for the people. Randal was in
favour of crossing the Border at night, and
driving away cattle from the English side,
according to the usual custom.

“Every day I expect to see a pair of spurs
in a dish for all our dinner,” said Randal.

That was the sign the lady of the house in
the Forest used to give her men, when all the
beef was done, and more had to be got by
fighting.

But Jeanie would not hear of Randal taking
spear and jack, and putting himself in danger
by fighting the English. They were her own
people after all, though she could not remember
them and the days before she was carried out
of England by Simon Grieve.

“Then,” said Randal, “‘am I to go back to
Fairyland, and fetch more gold like this ugly
thing?” and he felt in his pocket for the fairy
- bottle.

But it was not in his pocket.

“‘ What have I done with my fairy treasure ?”’
cried Randal, jumping up. Then he stood still.
quite suddenly, as if he saw something strange.
302 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

He touched Jean on the shoulder, making a
sign to her not to speak.

Jean rose quietly, and looked where Randal
pointed, and this was what she saw.

She looked over a corner of the old grassy
ditch, just where the marsh and the yellow
flowers came nearest to it.

Here there stood three tall grey stones, each
about as high asa man. Between them, with
her back to the single stone, and between the
two others facing Randal and Jean, the old
nurse was kneeling.

If she had looked up, she could hardly have
seen Randal and Jean, for they were within the
ditch, and only their eyes were on the level of
the rampart.

Besides, she did not look up; she was grop-
ing in the breast of her dress for something,
and her eyes were on the ground.

“What can the old woman be doing?”
whispered Randal. ‘‘ Why, she has got my
fairy bottle in her hand!”

Then he remembered how he had shown her
the bottle, and how she had gone out without
giving it back to him.

Jean and he watched, and kept very quiet.

They saw the old nurse, still kneeling, take
the stopper out of the black strange bottle, and
turn the open mouth gently on her hand. Then
she carefully put in the stopper, and rubbed her
eyes with the palm of her hand. Then she
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 303

 

crawled along in their direction, very slowly,
as if she were looking for something in the
grass.

Then she stopped, still looking very closely
at the grass.

Next she jumped to her feet with a shrill cry,
clapping her hands; and then she turned, and
was actually running along the edge of the
marsh, towards Fairnilee.

‘“ Nurse!’ shouted Randal, and she stopped
suddenly, in a fright, and let the fairy bottle
fall.

It struck on a stone, and broke to pieces with
a jingling sound, and the few drops of strange
water in it ran away into the grass.

“‘Oh, ma bairns, ma bairns, what have you
made me do?” cried the old nurse pitifully.
‘“‘ The fairy gift is broken, and maybe the Gold
of Fairnilee, that my eyes have looked on, will
ne’er be seen again.”
304. THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

CHAPTER XIII.

‘Gold of Fairnilee.

ANDAL and Jean went to the old woman
h and comforted her, though they. could
“A not understand what she meant. She

cried and sobbed, and threw her arms
about; but, by degrees, they found out
all the story.

When Randal had told her how all he saw in
Fairyland was changed after he had touched
his eyes with the water from the bottle, the old
woman remembered many tales that she had
heard about some charm known to the fairies,
which helped them to find things. hidden, and
to see through walls and stones. Then she had
got the bottle from Randal, and had stolen out,
meaning to touch her eyes with the water, and
try whether that was the charm and whether
she could find the treasure spoken of in the old
rhymes. She went

“Between the Camp o’ Rink
And Tweed water clear,”

and to the place which lay
‘“‘ Between the wet land and the dry,”

that is, between the marsh and the Catrail.
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 305

 

Here she had noticed the three great stones,
which made a kind of chamber on the hill-side,
and here she had anointed her eyes with the
salt water of the bottle of tears.

Then she had seen through the grass, she
declared, and through the upper soil, and she
had beheld great quantities of gold. And she
was running with the bottle to tell Randal, and
to touch his eyes with the water that he might
see it also. But, out of Fairyland, the strange
water only had its magical power while it was
still wet on the eyelashes. This the old nurse
soon found; for she went back to the three
standing stones, and looked and saw nothing,
only grass and daisies. And the fairy bottle
was broken, and all the water spilt.

This was her story, and Randal did not know
what to believe. But so many strange things
had happened to him, that one more did not
seem impossible. So he and Jean took the old
nurse home, and made her comfortable in her
room, and Jean put her to bed, and got hera
little wine and an oat-cake.

Then Randal very quietly locked the door
outside, and put the key in his pocket. It
would have been of no use to tell the old nurse
to be quiet about what she thought she had seen.

By this time it was late and growing dark.
But that night there would be a moon.

After supper, of which there was very little,
Lady Ker went to bed. But Randal and Jean
306 THE GOLD OF. FAIRNILEE.

 

slipped out into the moonlight. They took a
sack with them, and Randal carried a pickaxe
and a spade. They walked quickly to the three
great stones, and waited for a while to hear if
all was quiet. Then Jean threw a white cloak
round her, and stole about the edges of the
camp and the wood. She knew that if any
wandering man came by, he would not stay
long where such a figure was walking. The
night was cool, the dew lay on the deep fern ;
there was a sweet smell from the grass and
from the pine wood.

In the meantime, Randal was digging a long
trench with his pickaxe, above the place where
the old woman had knelt, as far as he could
remember it.

He worked very hard, and when he was in
the trench up to his knees, his pickaxe struck
against a stone. He dug round it with the
spade, and came to a layer of black burnt ashes
of bones. Beneath these, which he scraped
away, was the large flat stone on which his pick
had struck. It was a wide slab of red sand-
stone, and Randal soon saw that it was the lid
of a great stone coffin, such as the ploughshare
sometimes strikes against when men are plough-
ing the fields in the Border country.

Randal had seen these before, when he was
a boy, and he knew that there was never much
in them, except ashes and one or two rough
pots of burnt clay.
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 307

 

He was much disappointed.

It had seemed as if he was really coming to
something, and, behold, it was only an old
stone coffin |

However, he worked on till he had cleared
the whole of the stone coffin-lid. It was a very
large stone chest, and must have been made,
Randal thought, for the body of a very big
man.

With the point of his pickaxe he raised the
lid.

In the moonlight he saw something of a
strange shape.

He put down his hand, and pulled it out.

It was an image, in metal, about a foot high,
and represented a beautiful woman, with wings.
on her shoulders, sitting on a wheel.

Randal had never seen an image like this;
but in an old book, which belonged to the
Monks of Melrose, he had seen, when he was.
a boy, a picture of such a woman.

The Monks had told him that she was
Fortune, with her swift wings that carry her
from one person to another, as luck changes,
and with her whéel that she turns with the
turning of chance in the world.

The image was very heavy. Randal rubbed
some of the dirt and red clay off, and found
that the metal was yellow. He cut it with his.
knife ; it was soft. He cleaned a piece, which
shone bright and unrusted in the moonlight,
308 THE GOLD OE FAIRNILEE.

 

and touched it with his tongue. Then he had
no doubt any more. The image was gold !
Randal knew now that the old nurse had not
been mistaken. With the help of the fairy
water she had seen THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.
He called very softly to Jeanie, who came
glimmering in her white robes through the
wood, looking herself like a fairy. He put the

 
THE GOLD OF. FAIRNILEE. 309

 

image in her hand, and set his finger on his
lips to show that she must not speak.

Then he went back to the great stone coffin,
and began to grope init with hishands. There
was much earth in it that had slowly sifted
through during the many years that it, had been
buried. But there was also a great round bowl
of metal and a square box.

Randal got out the bowl first. It was covered
with a green rust, and had a lid; in short, it
was a large ancient kettle, such as soldiers use
incamp. Randal got the lid off, and, behold,
it was all full of very ancient
gold coins, not Greek, nor
Roman, but like , this,suchas were
used in Briton { before Julius
Ceesar came.

The square Cs box was of iron,
and was rusted red. On the lid,
in the moonshine, Jeanie could read the letters
S. P.Q. R., but she did not know what they
meant. The box had been locked, and chained,
and clamped with iron bars. But all was so
rusty that the bars were easily broken, and the
lid torn off.

Then the moon shone on bars of gold, and
on great plates and dishes of gold and silver,
marked with letters, and with what Randal
thought were crests. Many of the cups were
studded with red and green and blue stones.
And there were beautiful plates and dishes,

 
310 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

purple, gold, and green; and one of these fell,
and broke into a thousand pieces, for it was of
some strange kind of glass. There were three
gold sword-hilts, carved wonderfully into the
figures of strange beasts with wings, and heads
like lions.

Randal and Jean looked at it and marvelled,
and Jean sang in a low, sweet voice:

‘“ Between the Camp o’ Rink
And Tweed water clear, .
Lie nine kings’ ransoms
For nine hundred year.”

Nobody ever saw so much treasure in all broad
Scotland.

Jean and Randal passed the rest of the night
in hiding what they had found. Part they hid
in the secret chamber of Fairnilee, of which
only Jean and Lady Ker and Randal knew the
secret. The rest they stowed away in various
places. Then Randal filled the earth into the
trench, and cast wood on the place, and set
fire to the wood, so that next day there was
nothing there but ashes and charred earth.

You will not need to be told what Randal did,
now that he had treasure in plenty. Some he
sold in France, to the king, Henry II., and
some in Rome, to the Pope; and with the
money which they gave him he bought corn
and cattle in England, enough to feed all his
THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 311

 

neighbours, and stock the farms, and sow the
fields for next year. And Fairnilee became a
very rich and fortunate house, for Randal
married Jean, and soon their children were
playing on the banks of the Tweed, and rolling

 

down the grassy slope to the river, to bathe on
hot days. And the old nurse lived long and
happy among her new bairns, and often she
told them how it was she who really found the
Gold of Fairnilee.

You may wonder what the gold was, and how
it came there? Probably Father Francis, the
good Melrose Monk, was right. He said that
312 THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE.

 

the iron box and the gold image of Fortune,
and the kettle full of coins, had belonged to
some regiment of the Roman army: the kettle
and the coins, they must have taken from
the Britons; the box and all the plate were
their own, and brought from Italy. Then they,
in their turn, must have been defeated by some
of the fierce tribes beyond the Roman wall,
and must have lost all their treasure. That
must have been buried by the victorious enemy ;
and they, again, must have been driven from
their strong camp at Rink, either by some foes
from the north, or by a new Roman army from
the south. So all the gold lay at Fairnilee for
many hundred years, never quite forgotten, as
the old rhyme showed, but never found till it
was discovered, in their sore need, by the old
nurse and Randal and Jean.

As for Randal and Jean, they figed to be old,
and died on one day, and they are buried at
Dryburgh in one tomb, and a green tree grows
over them; and the Tweed goes murmuring
past their grave, and past the grave of Sir
Walter Scott.

THE END.

 

PRINTING OFFICE OF THE PUBLISHER.
THE YELLOW FAIRY BOOK.

Edited by ANDREW LANG. With 22 Plates and 82
INustrations in the Text by H. J. FORD. 12mo,
cloth extra, gilt edges, $2.00.

ConTENTS:—The Cat and the Mouse in Partnership—The Six Swans—The
Dragon of the North—Story of the Emperor’s New Clothes—The Golden
Crab—The Iron Stove—The Dragon and his Grandmother—The Donkey
Cabbage—The Little Green Frog—The Seven-headed Serpent—The Grateful
Beasts—The Giants and the Herd-boy—The Invisible Prince—The Crow—
How Six Men Traveled Through the Wide World—The Wizard King—The
Nixy—The Glass Mountain—Alphege ; or, The Green Monkey—Fairer-than-
a-Fairy—The Three Brothers—The Boy and the Wolves; or, The Broken
Promise—The Glass Axe—The Dead Wife—In the Land of Souls—The White
Duck—The Witch and the Servants—The Magic Ring—The Flower Queen's
Daughter—The Flying Ship—The Snow-daughter and the Fire-son—The
Story of King Frost—The Death of the Sun-hero—The Witch—The Hazlenut
Child—The Story of Big Klaus and Little Klaus—Prince Ring—The Swine-
herd—How to Tell a True Princess—T he Blue Mountains—The Tinder-box—
The Witch in the Stone-boat—Thumbelina—The Nightingale—Hermod and
Hadvor—The Steadfast “Tin-soldier—Blockhead Hans—A Story About a
Darning-needle.

“The Vellow Fairy Book’ immediately takes place among the leading juve-
nile publications. . . . Mr. Lang’s graceful and prepossessing style presents
these old and yet ever new tales in charming text, and the numerous full-page and
smaller illustrations by H. J. Ford are spirited and in complete harmony with the
stories. . . . Without, it is one of the handsomest and within one of the most
entertaining books the season can produce.’’— 7%mes, Boston,

“Mr. Lang has a positive genius for knowing what will delight his youthful
readers in this sort of literature and his mastery of folklore gives him a great
advantage in the selection of material for his agreeable compilations, . He
is careful not to include anything that can be offensive to good taste or good morals,
and he has got together in this as in former collections, stories that deserve to be
reckoned among the classics. . . . The imaginative element is strong, as ‘it
ought to be, and they have been most felicitously illustrated by H. J. Ford, who
has a marvelous faculty for depicting strange monsters, witch-maidens, lovely
princesses and fearless knights and making them appear like real creatures, Every
healthy child should read fairy tales and cultivate his imagination, which in these
days of scientific education is in danger of total extinction.’’—Zeacon, Boston.

“Tt is rich with marvelous tales, adapted in Mr. Lang’s charming style from
Russian, German, French, Icelandic, and Red Indian folklore, stories that have
their birth in the earliest imaginings of the human race, before knowledge obtained
its destructive sway.’’—/ournal, Chicago,

“As delightful and fascinating as any of its predecessors. . . . And the
pictures—plenty of them, by H. J. Ford—are very charming and appropriate.
The beautifully designed cover is just the thing for such_a book, The boy or
girl who owns a copy is indeed fortunate.”’—Churchman, New York.

“Not less fascinating than its predecessors. . . . The stories are charm-
ingly told and equally charmingly illustrated by Mr. H. J. Ford. ‘ Joan, Toddles
and Tiny,’ to whom the book is dedicated, and their countless brothers and sisters,
will find a rare treat in having these tales réad to them.’’—Oztlook, New York,

 

New York: Longmans, Green, & Co.
THE BLUE FAIRY BOOK.

Edited by ANDREW LANG. With 8 plates and 130
Illustrations in the Text. Crown S8vo, cloth, gilt,
$2.00.

ConrenTs :—The Bronze Ring—Prince Hyacinth and the Dear Little Princess
—East of the Sun and West of the Moon—The Yellow Dwarf—Little Red
Riding Hood—The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood—Cinderella; or, The Little
Glass Slipper—Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp—The Tale of a Youth who
Set Out to Learn What Fear Was—Rumpelstiltzkin—Beauty and the Beast—
The Master Maid—Why the Sea is Salt—The Master Cat; or, Puss in Boots
—Felicia and the Pot of Pinks—The White Cat—The Water-lily—The Gold-
spinners—The Terrible Head—The Story of Pretty Goldilocks—The History
of Whittington—The Wonderful Sheep—Little Thumb—The Forty Thieves
—Hansel and Grettel—Snow-white and Rose-red—The Goose-girl—Toads and
Diamonds—Prince Darling—Blue Beard—Trusty John—The Brave Little
Tailor—A Voyage to Lilliput—The Princess on the Glass Hill—The Story of
Prince Ahmed and the Fairy Paribanou—The History of Jack the Giant
Killer—The Black Bull of Norroway—The Red Etin.

“There could hardly be a better collection of fairy stories. Mr. Lang has
picked from every source, rewritten, condensed, and adapted them until each is
perfect in itself, and altogether form a model story book.’’—Christian Union.

‘* The loveliest collection of fairy stories that any Christmas holiday ever
brought, and, with its exquisite charm of the stories rendered still more attractive
by the pretty blue and gold fancy in binding. It isa part of the library of infor-
mation to have these tales ; both for children and grown people, they are a wonder-
ful fountain for suggestion and allusion. ‘They hold within themselves the poetry
of the race. This exquisite collection will easily be treasured as a classic of
English literature.”—Boston Traveller.

‘“ A well-chosen selection of the good old stories which have pleased many
generations of young readers and will please many more,” —/udependent,

THE RED FAIRY BOOK.

Edited by ANDREW LANG. With 4 plates and 96 Illus-
trations in the Text. Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt, $2.00.

Contents:—The Twelve Dancing Princesses—The Princess Mayblossom—
Soria Moria Castle—The Death of Koschei the Deathless—The Black Thief
and Knight of the Glen—The Master T’hief—Brother and Sister—Princess
Rosette—The Enchanted Pig—The Norka—The Wonderful Birch—Jack and
the Beanstalk—The Good Little Mouse—Graciosa and Percinet—The T'hree
Princesses of Whiteland—The Voice of Death—The Six Sillies—Kari Wooden-
gown—Drakestail—The Ratcatcher—The True History of Little Goldenhood
—The Golden Branch—The Three Dwarfs—Dapplegrim—The Enchanted
Canary—The Twelve Brothers—Rapunzel—The Nettle Spinner—Farmer
Weatherbeard — Mother Holle — Minnikin — Bushy Bride — Snowdrop — The
elds Goose—The Seven Foals—The Marvelous Musician—The Story of

igurd.

‘‘A delightful pendant to its Blue predecessor of last year, . . . Many of
these tales will be found unfamiliar to the rank and file of American readers of
fairy tales, and all are treated with taste and skill.’—Book Buyer.

‘* There are many of them unfamiliar which enhances the value of the book
immensely, for it consequently abounds in new delights for the lover of the quaint
and fantastic tales. . . . . For a gift book for children ‘The Red Fairy
Book’ can be commended in the most unreserved terms.’’— 77es, Boston,

 

New York: Longmans, Green, & Co.
THE GREEN FAIRY BOOK.

Edited by ANDREW LANG. With 13. Plates and 88
Illustrations in the Text. Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt,
$2.00.

Contents:—The Blue Bird—The Half-Chick— The Story of Caliph Stork—
The Enchanted Watch—Rosanella—Sylvain and Jocosa—Fairy Gifts—Prince
Narcissus and the Princess Potentilla—Prince Fatherhead and the Princess

- Celandine—The Three Little Pigs—Heart of Ice—The Enchanted Ring—
The Snuff-box—The Golden Blackbird—The Magic Swan—The Dirty Shep-
herdess—The Enchanted Snake—The Biter Bit—King Kojata—Prince Fickle
and Fair Helena—Puddocky—The Story of Hok Lee and the Dwarfs—The
Story of the Three Bears—Prince Vivien and the Princess Placida—Little
One-eye, Little Two-eyes, and Little Three-eyes—Jorinde and Joringel—
Allerleirauh ; or, the Many-furred Creature—The Twelve Huntsmen—Spindle,
Shuttle, and Needic—The Crystal Coffin—The Three Snake-leaves—The
Riddle—Jack my Hedgehog—The Golden Lads—The White Snake—The
Story of a Clever Tailor—The Golden Mermaid—The War of the Wolf and
the Fox—The Story of the Fisherman and His Wife—The Three Musicians
—The Three Dogs.

“Any child with a spark of imagination would revel in these charmed pages,
where right makes might and courage is invariably rewarded. The many illus-
trations by Mr. H. J. Ford are an additional attraction.””—Dzad, Chicago.

“Mr, Lang . . . . shows himself here to be in thorough sympathy with
the tastes and tenderness of children, and the result of his editorial tact and care
is a most delightful book. Happy will be the boy or girl who comes into possession
of this beautiful volume at the coming Christmas season.”’

—Christian at Work, N.Y,

THE BLUE POETRY BOOK.

Edited by ANDREW LANG. With 12 Plates and 88
Illustrations in the Text. Crown S8vo, cloth, gilt,
$2.00.

The purpose of this collection is to put before children, and young people,
poems which are good in themselves, and especially fitted to live, as Theocritus
says, on the lips of the young. The editor has been guided toa great extent, in
making his choice, by recollections of what particularly pleased himself in youth,

—EXTRACT FROM PREFACE,

“Ts a pleasing and satisfactory completion of poetry, most of which is known
and held in high estimation by all persons of taste and education, The selection
is most judicious, and the most carping critic would be hard set to raise an objec»
tion. . . . Theselection is not confined to poems for the young, but includes
many of the noblest poems in the English language which not to know is to con-
fess ourselves imperfectly educated.”’—Comsmercial Advertiser.

“The collection is excellently chosen, the pictures strikingly good, and the
book a treasury of strong and fine verse. The contents are best summarized by
assuring you that any poem which ought to be there is there; and none that are
included should have been left out. It is an exquisite book, representing Mr.
Lang’s passion for the heroic, romantic and comic in verse, and having through
its illustrations a fairy-like appearance that will catch the fancy of young readers.”

—The Book Buyer.

New York: Longmans, Green, & Co.

 
THE TRUE STORY BOOK.

Edited by ANDREW LANG. With 9 Plates and 58
Illustrations in the Text. Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt,
$2.00.

Contents :—A Boy Among the Red Indians—Casanova’s Escape—Adventures
on the Findhorn—The Story of Grace Darling—The ‘‘Shannon” and the
‘““Chesapeake’”’—Captain Snelgrave and the Pirates—The Spartan Three
Hundred—Prince Charlie’s Wanderings—Two Great Matches—The Story of
Kaspar Hauser—An Artist’s Adventure—The Tale of Isandhlwana and
Rorke’s Drift—How Leif the Lucky Found Vineland the Good—The Escape
of Cervantes—The Worthy Enterprise of John Foxe—Baron Trenck—The
Adventure of John Rawlins—The Chevalier Johnstone’s Escape from Cul-
loden—The Adventures of Lord Pitsligo—The Escape of Cxsar Borgia from
the Castle of Medina del Campo—The Kidnapping of the Princes—The Con-
quest of Montezuma’s Empire—The Return of the French Freebooters.

“The editor acknowledges that there is not a dragon in the whole collection,
and that giants and witches are conspicuous by their absence, but there are princes,
and marvelous escapes, and good fighting, and buccaneering, and the punishment
of wicked conspirators to read about, so that the volume is not by any means lack-
ing in heroic and romantic interest. . . . Parents may safely buy this book for
their children with the assurance that it will cultivate their imaginative faculties in
a healthful way and give them a vast amount of harmless pleasure.”

—Boston Beacon.

“Striking adventure, fanciful plays of imagination that in no way disturb ve-
racity, and the romance of truthful history are strung together in a way that will

make the readers, young and old, realize that truth is stranger than fiction and
makes wondrously entertaining reading.’—WV. V. Observer.

“The author . . . has been extremely fortunate in the selection of sub-
jects which will be eagerly read and will prove highly entertaining and instructive.
It is in no sense a collection of fairy tales but a volume rich in adventures which
actually happened to real people. . . It is an admirable gift book for children.”

—Public Opinion, N.Y;

THE OUTDOOR WORLD;

OR, THE YOUNG COLLECTOR’S HAND-
BOOK.

By W. FURNEAUX, F.R.G.S. With 546 Illustrations,
including 16 colored Plates. Crown 8vo, 4388
pages, ornamental cover, gilt edges, $2.50.

Contents :—Part I, AnimaL LirE—Chap. I. Ponds and Streams, II, Insects
and Insect Hunting. III, The Sea-shore. IV. Snailsand Slugs. V. Spiders,
Centipedes and Millepedes. VI. Reptiles and Reptile Hunting, VII. British

_ Birds, VIII. British Mammals. Part IJ. THe VEGETABLE Worip.—IX.
Seaweeds. X. Fungi. XI. Mosses. XII. Ferns. XIII. Wild Flowers.
XIV. Grasses. XV. Our Forest Trees. Part III, Tue Minerat Worip.—
XVI. Minerals and Fossils,

 

New York: Longmans, Green, & Co.
Ly)

\\ Wetrerer=1

 

By

By

By

By

By

By

No.
No.
No,

No.

is of A List of Recent Fiction
f
Ns

Published by ¢ © &6@ 6 6 6

Longmans, Green, & Co.,

15 East 16th Street & = 8=©New York.

Stanley J. Weyman.
A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE. Illustrated. .12mo, cloth, $1.25.

THE HOUSE OF THE WoLr. A Romance. _ Illustrated.
12mo, cloth, $1.25.

UNDER THE RED ROBE. With 12 full-page Illustrations.
12mo, cloth, $1.25.

My Lapy RotHa. A Romance. With 8 full-page Illus-
trations. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.

H. Rider Haggard.

THE PEOPLE OF THE MIST. Illustrated. !2mo, cloth,
1.25.

A. Conan Doyle.

MicaH CLARKE. Author’s Edition. Illustrated. 12mo,
' cloth, $1.25.

THE CAPTAIN OF THE POLESTAR, and Other Tales.  Illus-
trated. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.

Mrs. Parr. y

CAN THIS BE LovE? Illustrated. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.

Edna Lyall.

DOREEN. The Story of a Singer. 12mo, cloth, $1.50.

Tue AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A SLANDER. Illustrated. 12mo,
cloth, $1.50.

Mrs. Walford.
THE MATCHMAKER. 12mo, cloth, $1.50.

LONCMANS’ PAPER LIBRARY.

Issued Quarterly at 50 cents each.

. a. NADA THE LILY. By H. Riper Haccarp. Copyright

Edition. With all the original Illustrations.
THE ONE GOOD GUEST. By Mrs. L. B. WALrorp.
KEITH DERAMORE. By the Author of ‘* Miss Molly.”

4. 4. FAMILY TREE, and Other Stories. By BRANDER
MATTHEWS.
A MORAL DILEMMA. By Awnniz THOMPSON.

YQ oN

on

. 6. GERALD FFRENCH’S FRIENDS. By Gerorcre H.

JESSOP.
LONGMANS’ DOLLAR NOVELS.

By H. Rider Haggard.
MONTEZUMA’S DAUGHTER. Illustrated. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.
NADA THE LILy. Illustrated. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.

By Miss L. Dougall.
WHat NECEssITy Knows. A Novel. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.
BecGars ALL. A Novel. t!2mo, cloth, $1.00.

By E. W. Hornung.

THE UNBIDDEN GUEST. An Australian Story. 1I2mo,
cloth, $1.00. =

By Francis Forster.
Major JosHua. A Novel. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. .

By John Trafford Clegg.

Davip's Loom. A Story of Rochdale Life in the Early
Years of the Nineteenth Century. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.

By Mrs. L. B. Walford.
THE ONE GOOD GUEST. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.
‘ PLOUGHED,’ and Other Stories. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.

By May Kendall.
SucH 1s Lire. A Novel. 12mo, cloth, $1.00,

By William Tirebuck.
SWEETHEART GWEN. A Welsh Idyl. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.

By the Author of ‘ Miss Molly.’
KEITH DERAMORE. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.

By Annie Thompson.
A MorAL DILEMMA. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.

By Julian Sturgis.
AFTER TWENTY YEARS, and Other Stories. 12mo, cloth,
$1.00.
By C. J. Cutliffe Hyne.
THE New EDEN. Illustrated. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.
MY LADY ROTHA.

A ROMANCE OF THE THIRTY YEARS’? WAR.
By STANLEY J. WEYMAN.

AUTHOR OF ‘*A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE,” ‘UNDER THE RED ROBE,”
‘THE HOUSE OF THE WOLF.”

With Eight Illustrations. Crown Svo, $1.25.

“ Few writers of fiction who have appeared in England in the last decade have given
their readers more satisfaction than Mr. Stanley J. Weyman, and no single writer of this
number can be said to have approached him, much less to have equaled him in the romantic
world of the historical novel . . . he has the art of story-telling in the highest degree,
the art which instinctively divines the secret, the soul of the story which he tells, and the
rarer art, ifit be not the artlessness, which makes it as real and as inevitable as life itself,
His characters are alive, human, unforgetable, resembling in this respect those of Thackeray
in historical lines and in a measure those of Dumas, with whom, and not inaptly, Mr. Wey-
man has been compared. His literature is good, so good that we accept itas a matter of
course, as we do that of Thackeray and Scott. . . . Mr. Weyman’s historical novels
will live.’ —New York Marv anv Express.

“4. differs signally from Mr. Weyman’s earlier published works. It is treated
with the minuteness and lovingness of a first story which has grown up in the mind of the
author for years. . . . Marie Wort is one of the bravest souls that ever moved quietly
along the pages ofa novel. She is so unlike the other feminine characters whom Weyman
has drawn that the diffcrence is striking and adds significance to this one book. . . .
‘ My Lady Rotha’ is full of fascinating interest, all the more remarkable in a work adhering
so strictly to historical truth.’—Eventnc Post, Cuicaco.

“This last book of his is brimful of action, rushing forward with a roar, leaving the
reader breathless at the close; for if once begun there is no stopping place. ‘Ihe concep-
tion is unique and striking, and the culmination unexpected. The author is so saturated
with the spirit of the times of which he writes, that he merges his personality in that of the
supposititious narrator, and the virtues and failings of his men and women are set forth in a
fashion which is captivating from its very simplicity. It is one of his best novels.”

—Pustic Orrnion.

**Readers of Mr. \Veyman's novels will have no hesitation in pronouncing his just pub-
lished ‘My Lady Rotha’ in every way his greatest and most artistic production. We
know of nothing more fit, both in conception and execution, to be classed with the immortal
Waverleys than this his latest work. . . . A story true to life and true to the times
which Mr. Weyman has made such a careful study.” —THe ADVERTISER, BOSTON.

‘No one of Mr. Weyman’s books is better than ‘ My Lady Rotha’ unless it be ‘ Under
the Red Robe,’.and those who have learned to like his stories of the old days when might
made right will appreciate it thoroughly. It is a good book to read and read again.”

‘ —New York Wortp.

©. . . As good a tale of adventure as any one need ask ; the picture of those war-
like times is an excellent one, full of life and color, the blare of trumpets and the flash of
steel—and toward the close the description of the besieged city of Nuremberg and of the
battle under Wallenstein’s entrenchments is masterly.”—BosTon TRAVELLER.

“The loveliest and most admirable character in the story is that of a young Catholic girl,
while in painting the cruelties and savage barbarities of war at that period the brush is held
by an impartial hand. Books of adventure and romance are apt to be cheap and sensational,’
Mr. Weyman’s stories are worth tons of such stuff. They are thrilling, exciting, absorbing,
interesting, and yet clear, strong, and healthy in tone, written by a gentleman and a man of
sense and taste.”—Sacrep Heart Review, Bosron.

‘*Mr. Weyman has outdone himself in this remarkable book. . . . The whole story
is told with consummate skill. The plot is artistically devised and enrolled before the read-
er’s eyes. The language is simple and apt, and the descriptions are graphic and terse. The
charm of the story takes hold of the reader on the very first page, and holds him spell-bound
to the very end.”—Nerw Or-EANS Picavunr.

 

 

LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO.,15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK,
UNDER THE RED ROBE.

A ROMANCE.
By STANLEY J. WEYMAN,

AUTHOR OF ‘‘A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE,” ‘‘ THE HOUSE OF THE WOLF,’’ ETC.

With 12 Full-page Illustrations by R. Caton Woodville.
12mo, Linen Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.

“Mr. Weyman is a brave writer, who imagines fine things and describes them
splendidly. There is something to interest a healthy mind on every page of his new
story. Its interest never flags, for his resource is rich, and it is, moreover, the kind of
a story that one cannot plainly see the end of from ChapterI. . . . the story reveals
a knowledge of French character and French landscape that was surely never ac-
quired at second hand. The beginning is wonderfully interesting.”—NEw York TIMEs.

“ As perfect a novel of the new school of fiction as ‘Ivanhoe’ or ‘Henry Esmond’
was of theirs. Each later story has shown a marked advance in strength and treat-
ment, and in the last Mr. Weyman . . . demonstrates that he has no superior
among living novelists. . ._. There are but two characters in the story—his art
makes all other but unnoticed shadows cast by them—and the attention is so keenly
fixed upon one or both, from the first word to the last, that we live in their thoughts
and see the drama unfolded through their eyes.’—N. Y. WorRLp.

“Tt was bold to take Richelieu and his time as a subject and thus to challenge com-
parison with Dumas’s immortal musketeers ; but the result justifies the boldness. . . .
The plot is admirably clear and strong, the diction singularly concise and telling, and
the stirring events are so managed as not to degenerate into sensationalism. Few
better novels of adventure than this have ever been written.”’—OvuTLoox, NEw York.

“ A wonderfully brilliant and thrilling romance. . . ._ Mr. Weyman has a positive
talent for concise dramatic narration. Every phrase tells, and the characters stand
out with life-like distinctness. Some of the most fascinating epochs in French history
have been splendidly illuminated by his novels, which are to be reckoned among the
notable successes of later nineteenth-century fiction. This story of ‘ Under the Red
Robe’ is in its way one of the very best things he has done. It is illustrated with
vigor and appropriateness from twelve full-page designs by R. Caton Woodville.”

—BOosTON BEACON.

“It is a skillfully drawn picture of the times, drawn in simple and transparent
English, and quivering with tense human feeling from the first word to the last. It is
not a book that can be laid down at the middle of it. The reader once caught in its
whirl can no more escape from it than a ship from the maelstrom.”

—PICAYUNE, NEW ORLEANS.

“The ‘red robe’ refers to Cardinal Richelieu, in whose day the story is laid.
The descriptions of his court, his judicial machinations and ministrations, his partial
defeat, stand out from the book as vivid as flame against a background of snow. For
the rest, the book is clever and interesting, and overflowing with heroic incident.
Stanley Weyman is an author who has apparently come to stay.’”"—CHICAGO Post.

“In this story Mr. Weyman returns to the scene of his ‘Gentleman of France,’
although his new heroes are of different mould. The book is full of adventure and
characterized -by a deeper study of character than its predecessor.”’

—WASHINGTON Post.

“Mr, Weyman has quite topped his first success. . ._. The author artfully
pursues the line on which his happy initial venture was laid. Wehave in Berault, the
ero, a more impressive Marsac; an accomplished duelist, telling the tale of his own
adventures, he first repels and finally attracts us. He is at once the tool of Richelieu,
and aman of honor, Here is a noteworthy romance, full of thrilling incident set down
by a master-hand,”—PHILADELPHIA PRESS,

 

LONGMANS, GREEN, & 00, 15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK.
A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE.

Being the Memoirs of Gaston de Bonne,
Sieur de Marsac.

By STANLEY J. WEYMAN.

AUTHOR OF ‘THE HOUSE OF THE WOLF,” ETC.

With Frontispiece and Vignette by H. J. Ford.
12mo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.

**One of the best novels since ‘Lorna Doone.’ 1t will be read and then re-read for the
mete pleasure its reading gives. The subtle charm of it is not in merely transporting the
nineteenth-century reader to the sixteenth, that.he may see life as it was then, but in trans-
forming him into a sixteenth-century man, thinking its thoughts, and living its life in perfect
touch and sympathy . . . itcarries the reader out of his present life, giving him a new
and totally different existence that rests and refreshes him.”—N. Y. Wor.b.

“‘ No novelist outside of France has displayed a more definite comprehension of the very
essence of medizval French life, and no one, certainly, has been able to set forth a depiction
of it in colors so vivid and so entirely in consonance with the truth. . . . The characters
in the tale are admirably drawn, and the narrative is nothing less than fascinating in its fine
flavor of adventure.’—Bgacon, Boston.

‘We hardly know whether to call this latest work of Stanley J. Weyman a historical
romance or a story of adventure. It has all the interesting, fascinating and thrilling charac-
teristics of both. The scene is in France, and the time is that fateful eventful one which
culminated in Henry of Navarre becoming king. Naturally it isa story of plots and intrigue,
of danger and of the grand passion, abounding in intense dramatic scenes and most intcrest-
ing situations. It is a romance which will rank among the masterpieces of historic fiction.”

—ADVERTISER, BosToNn.

‘A romance after thé style of Dumas the elder, and well worthy of being read by those
who can enjoy stirring adventures told in true romantic fashion, .. . ‘I'he great person~
ages of the time—Henry III. of Valois, Henry IV., Rosny, Rambouillet, Turenne—are
brought in skillfully, and the tragic and varied history of the time forms a splendid frame in
which to set the picture of Marsac’s love and courage . . . the troublous days are well
described and the interest is genuine and lasting, for up to the very end the author manages
effects which impel the reader to go on with renewed curiosity.”—THE NaTION.

“A genuine and admirable piece of work. . . . The reader will not turn many pages
before he finds himself in the grasp of a writer who holds his attention to the very last mo-
ment of the story. The spirit of adventure pervades the whole from beginningtoend. . . .

It may be said that the narration is a delightful love story. The interest of the reader
is constantly excited by the development of unexpected turns in the relation of the principal

lovers. The romance lies against a background of history truly painted. . . . The
descriptions of the court life of the period and of the factional strifes, divisions, hatreds of the
age, are fine. . . . This story of those times is worthy of a very high place among histori

cal novels of recent years.”—PuBLic OPINION.

“Bold, strong, dashing, it is one of the best we have read for many years. We sat down
for a cursory perusal, and ended by reading it delightedly through. . . . Mr, Weyman
has much of the vigor and rush of incident of Dr. Conan Doyle, and this book ranks worthily
beside ‘The White Company.’ . . . We very cordially recommend this book to the jaded
novel reader who cares for manly actions more than for morbid introspection.”

—THE CHURCHMAN.

“The book is not only good literature, it is a ‘rattling good story,’ instinct with the
spirit of true adventure and stirring emotion. Of love and peril, intrigue and fighting, there
is plenty, and many scenes could not have been bettered. In all his adventures, and they
are many, Marsac acts as befits his epoch and his own modest yet gallant personality. Well
known historical figures emerge in telling fashion under Mr. Weyman’s discriminating and
fascinating touch.”—ATHEN/EUM.

‘*T cannot fancy any reader, old or young, not sharing with doughty Crillon his admiration
for M, de Marsac, who, though no swashbuckler, has a sword that leaps from its scabbard at the
breath of insult. . . . There are several historical-personages in the novel; there is, of
course, a heroine, of great beauty and enterprise; but that true ‘Gentleman of France,’
M, de Marsac, with his perseverance and valor, dominates them all.”

—Mr. James Payn in the ILLusrratep Lonpon News.

 

LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO, 15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK,
DOREEN.

THE STORY OF A SINGER.
. By EDNA LYALL,

AUTHOR OF ‘WE TWO,” “DONOVAN,” ‘‘THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A SLANDER,”
“IN THE GOLDEN DAYS,” ETC., ETC.

 

Crown S8vo, Buckram Cloth, Ornamental, $1.50.

 

“Edna Lyall has evidently made a close study of the Irish question, and she sees
its varying aspects and problems with a desire to do justice to all, while she stands
firmly on her own principles. . . . There is much to recommend in Edna Lyall’s
books, and her admirers are many. The book will be read withinterest. . . .. Itis
yet well written and comprehensive, treating of universal principles in a broad way
and presenting characters in.whom one becomes interested for their own sake.”

—LITERARY WorLD, Boston.

“4 plot which has original lifeand vigor. . . . Altogethera good novel, andif
the author has written nothing else she could safely rest her literary reputation on
‘ Doreen.’ ’—PusLic OPINION, N. Y.

“Edna Lyall’s . . . newstory . . . is one of her best. It has, naturally,
enough of tragedy to make it intensely interesting without being sensational in any
offensive sense. ‘The heroine, Doreen, isa delightful character, sturdy, strong, lovable,
womanly, and genuinely Irish. Miss Bayly is a conscientious writer, imbued with
deep feeling, a high purpose, and her style is attractive and pure.”

—BosTON DAILY ADVERTISER.

“The heroine is a most winsome Irish maiden with an exquisite voice, and she

comes bravely out of the involyed dramatic situation in which she is placed by an early
vow.’’—PREssS, Philadelphia,

“It is a very clever story indeed, and skillfully written. The heroine is a bright
and beautiful Irish girl, and a musician.”’—NEW ORLEANS PICAYUNE.

‘A very interesting story and is full of interesting and exciting incidents, and its
characters are well drawn and sustained throughout the book. It is tastefully bound,
and will doubtless prove popular with this writer’s many admirers.”

—PORTLAND ADVERTISER.

“Doreen, the heroine of this latest novel of Edna Lyall, is an Irish girl, gentle,
kind, and modest, but brave, resolute, and unflinching when there is a question of
those whom she loves, of right or wrong, or of the welfare of the country which she
holds dearestofall. . . . Thebookis thoroughly wholesome, good, and interesting,
Miss Lyall writes of Ireland, of Irish ways and feelings, as well as of Catholic beliefs
and customs, with knowledge and sympathy. . . . The volume is tastefully bound
- « » well printed and convenient to handle and to read.”

—THE SACRED HEART REVIEW, Boston.

“The heroine, clever, patriotic, self-denying, is worthy of the name, and the hero
is equally excellent. . . . Aninteresting novel, a good picture of a bright, pure.
minded, high-hearted heroine.”—BostTon PILor.

“This is perhaps one of the best of Edna Lyall’s clever stories. Doreenisa young
Irish girl, who loves her native land, and who isa credit to herrace. . . . Inter-
woven with the story of her experience and of her love for a young Englishman is an
interesting account of the rise and progress of the Home Rule movement. Miss Lyall’s
book is a charming tale, and will not fail to delight every one who reads it. The girl
Doreen is a beautiful character.”—CATHOLIC NEws.

“The time is the present, the scene is laid in Ireland and England, and Doreen,
the heroine, is a charming Irish girl, devoted to her country and her oppressed
countrymen, . . . The story is attractively told and a very impartial view of the
Irish question is taken. . . . Doreen is a most attractive character, refreshingly
simple and natural, and yet with a decided personality of herown. . . . A whole-
some, well-written story, and free from any touch ofatheism.””—CuIcAGo INTER-OCEAN,

 

LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO, 15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK
THE MATCHMAKER.

A NOVEL. 2

By MRS. L. B. WALFORD.

Crown 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.50.

“A new novel by the author of ‘The Baby’s Grandmother’ and ‘ Mr. Smith’ is always
eagerly anticipated by those who enjoy a love story told with a charming freshness of style,
with a satirical yet good-natured treatment of human foibles, and with a vivid, witty, and
animating use of that sentiment which ‘makes the world go round.’ . . . ‘The Match-
maker’ gives a piquant hint of the plot. It will be found one of the most delightful of its
author's works, and comes in good time to amuse people worn by summer weather.”

—New York TripunE

“We are sure that anything from the pen of L. B. Walford will be interesting and
original. There is always enough romance about these novels to keep them from any sign of
dullness, and they always include some very uncommon types well worth studying. | The
Carnoustie family in the present instance is one to keep the reader constantly on the guz
vive . . . a well-told, entertaining story of interesting people.”

—Derroir Free Press,

_. ‘Sure to find a large circle of refined and intelligent readers. The story is constantly
lighted up with touches of humor, and the picture of simple family life and the feminine occu-
pations it affords is natural and entertaining.”—Bracon, Boston.

“|. . A fresh and interesting picture of life in a Scottish castle, and introduces
many characters notable for the faithfulness to nature with which they are drawn. The inci-
dents are interesting enough to fix the attention of the reader and to hold it until the closing
chapter.”—THE ADVERTISER, PORTLAND.

“Tells what befell a gay London girl during her six months’ sojourn in the Scotch castle
of some old fashioned relatives. . . . The story is a good one, much the best of it being
the delineation of the stiff-necked Carnoustie family, and its magisterial dowager and its
pathetic and comical old maids.” — Boston TRAVELLER.

 

NOVELS BY MRS. L. B. WALFORD.

In Uniform Binding. Crown 8vo, Cloth, each Volume, $1.00.

COUSINS. TROUBLESOME DAUGH-

THE BABY’S GRAND- TERS.
MOTHER. MR. SMITH.

DICK NETHERBY.

A STIFF-NECKED- GEN-
NAN. ERATION.

THE HISTORY OF A WEEK. | THE MISCHIEF OF MONICA

PAULINE.

LONGMANS, GREEN, & 00., 15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK.
MONTEZUMA’S DAUGHTER.

By H. RIDER HAGGARD,

AUTHOR OF ‘¢ SHE,” § ALLAN QUATERMAIN,”’ ‘*NADA THE LILY,” ETC.

With 24 full-page II]ustrations and Vignette by Maurice
Greiffenhagen. Crown 8vo, Cloth, $1.00.

* Adventures that stir the reader’s blood and, like magic spells, hold his attention with
power so strong that only the completion of the novel can satisfy his interest. . . . In
this novel the motive of revenge is treated with a subtle power . . . this latest production
of Mr. Haggard blends with the instruction of the historical novel the charm of a splendid
romance.”—PuBLic OPINION.

“Mr. Haggard has done nothing better . . . it may well be doubted if he has ever
done anything half so good. The tale is one of the good, old-fashioned sort, filled with the
elements of romance and adventure, and it moves on from one thrilling situation to another
with a celerity and verisimilitude that positively fascinate the reader. . . . The story is
told with astonishing variety of detail, and in its main lines keeps close to historical truth.
The author has evidently written with enthusiasm and entire love of his theme, and the result
is a really splendid piece of romantic literature. The illustrations, by Maurice Greiffenhagen,
are admirable in spirit and technique.”—BosTon BEACON.

‘“Has a good deal of the quality that lent such interest to ‘King Solomon’s Mines’ and
‘Allan Quatermain.? . . . England, Spain, and the country which is now Mexico afford
the field of the story, and a great number of most romantic and blood-stirring activities occur
in each . . . a successful story well constructed, full of devious and exciting action,
and we believe that it will find a multitude of appreciative readers.”,—Sun, N. Y.

‘It is a tale of adventure and romance, with a fine historical setting and with a vivid
reproduction of the manners and people of the age. The plot is handled with dexterity and
skill, and the reader’s interest is always seen. ‘I'here is, it should also be noted, nothing like
vulgar sensationalism in the treatment, and the literary quality is sound throughout.

Among the very best stories of love, war, and romance that have been written.”
—TueE OvuTLoox.
“Is the latest and best of that popular writer’s works of fiction. It enters a new
field not befure touched by previous tales from the same author. In its splendor of descrip-
tion, weirdness of imagery, and wealth of startling incidents it rivals ‘King Solomon’s Mines’
and other earlier stories, but shows superior strength in many respects, and presents novelty
of scene that must win new and more enduring fame for its talented creator. . . . The
analysis of human motives and emotions is more subtle in this work than in any previous
production by Mr. Haggard. The story will generally be accorded highest literary rank
among the author’s works, and will prove of fascinating interest to a host of readers.”
—MINNEAPOLIS SPECTATOR.
“Ts full of the magnificence of the Aztec reign, and is quite as romantic and unbelievable
as the most fantastic of his earlier creations.”—Book Buygr.

_ ‘We should be disposed to rank this volume next to ‘King Solomon’s Mines’ in order
of interest and merit among the author's works,”—LITERARY WoRLD, BosTon.

“Tt is decidedly the most powerful and enjoyable book that Mr. Rider Haggard has
written, with the single exception of ‘ Jess.’ ’’—ACADEMY.

“‘Mr. Haggard has rarely done anything better than this romantic and interesting narra-
tive. Throughout the story we are hurried from one thrilling experience to another, and the
whole book is written at a level of sustained passion, which gives it a very absorbing hold on
our imagination. A special word of praise ought to be given to the excellent illustrations.”

. —Daity TELEGRAPH.
“* Perhaps the best of all the author’s stories.

The great distinguishing quality of Rider Haggard is this magic power of seizing and
holding his readers so that they become absorbed and abstracted from all earthly things while

their eyes devour the page. . . . A romance must have ‘grip.’ . .. This romance
possesses the quality of ‘grip’ in an eminent degree.””—WALTER BESANT in the AUTHOR.
‘The story is both graphic and exciting, . . . and tells of the invasion of Cortes;

but there are antecedent passages in England and Spain, for the hero is an English adven-
turer who finds his way through Spain to Mexico on a vengeful quest. ‘he vengeance is cer-
tainly satisfactory, but it is not reached until the hero has had as surprising a series of perils
and escapes as even the fertile imagination of the author ever devised.”—DIAL, CuIcaGo.

 

LONGMANS, GREEN, & 00.,15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK.
WHAT NECESSITY KNOWS.

A Novel of Canadian Life and Character,
By MISS L. DOUGALL,

AUTHOR OF ‘‘ BEGGARS ALL.”’
Crown 8vo, Cloth, $1.00.

“* A very remarkable novel, and not a book that can be lightly classified or ranged with

other modern works of fiction. . . . It is a distinct creation . . . a structure of
noble and original design and of grand and dignified conception. . . . The book bristles
with epigrammatic sayings which one would like to remember. . . . It will appeal

strongly by force of its originality and depth of insight and for the eloquence and dignity of
style in the descriptive passages.”—MANCHESTER GUARDIAN, LONDON.

We think we are well within the mark in saying that this novel is one of the three or
four best novels of the year. The social atmosphere as well as the external conditions of
Canadian life are reproduced faithfully. The author is eminently thoughtful, yet the story
is not distinctively one of moral purpose. The play of character and the clash of purpose are
finely wrought out. . . . What gives the book its highest value is really the author's
deep knowledge of motive and character. The reader continually comes across keen obser-
vations and subtle expressions that not infrequently recall George Eliot. The novel is one
that is worth reading a second time.”—OuTLoox, NEw York.

‘Keen analysis, deep spiritual ‘insight, and a quick sense of beauty in nature and
human nature are combined to put before us a drama of human life . . . the book isnot
only interesting but stimulating, not only strong but suggestive, and we may say of the
writer, in Sidney Lanier’s werds, ‘She shows man what he may be in terms of what he is.’”

—LiTeRARY W>RLD, Boston.

NADA’ THE LILY;

By H. RIDER HAGGARD,

AUTHOR OF ‘‘SHE,’’ ‘© ALLAN QUATERMAIN,” ETC,

 

With 283 full-page Illustrations, by C. H. M. Kerr.
12mo, Cloth, Ornamental (Copyright), $1.00.

‘© A thrilling book full . . . of almost incredible instances of personal daring and of
wonderful revenge. . . . The many vigorous illustrations add much to the interest of a
book that may safely be denominated as Mr. Haggard’s most successful venture in the
writing of fiction.”—Boston BEAcon.

**The story of ‘Nada the Lily’ is full of action and adventure; the plot is cleverly
wrought and the fighting and adventure are described with spirite Once begun itis, indeed,
a story to be finished.”—N. Y. TRiBuNE.

“« The story is a magnificent effort of the imagination and quite the best of all that Mr.
Haggard has done. There is no example of manufactured miracle in this story, for the story
of the Ghost mountain, the Stone Witch, and the Wolves is nothing but the folk-lore of the
African tribes, and in no respect similar to the wonders which the author introduced into
the stories in which Allan Quatermain figures.”—SprINGFIELD REPUBLICAN,

“To my mind the realization of savage existence and the spirit of it have never been so
honestly and accurately set forth. The Indians of Chateaubriand, and_even of Cooper, are
conventional compared with these blood-thirsty, loyal, and fatalistic Zulus. . . . The

whole legend seems to me to be a curiously veracious reproduction of Zulu life and character.”
—Mr. AnprEw Lanc in the New Review.

‘Rider Haggard’s latest story . . . has a more permanent value than anything
this prolific author has previously given to the public. He has preserved in this latest
romance many of the curious tales, traditions, superstitions, the wonderful folk-lore of a
nation now extinct, a people rapidly melting away before an advancing tide of civilization.
The romance into which Mr. Haggard has woven valuable material is in his own inimitable
style, and will delight those who love the weirdly improbable.”—Boston ‘TRAVELLER,

 

LONGMANS, GREEN, & C0., 15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK.
MICAH CLARKE.

His statement as made to his three Grandchildren, Joseph, Gervas, and
Reuben, during the hard Winter of 1734.

By A. CONAN DOYLE,

AUTHOR OF ‘THE CAPTAIN OF THE POLE-STAR,”’ ‘THE REFUGEES,” ETC.
Author’s Edition. Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.

“ The language has the quaintness of old times, and the descriptions are so vivid and
home-like as to make us feel that we are listening to them ourselves ; indeed, the story stands
very high among historical novels, and will be of great interest to any one who has followed
the more critical setting forth of the troubles preceding the Restoration found in the regular
histories. The author has succeeded in giving us the genuine flavor of former days.”

—Pus ic OPINION.

«|... There is a great deal of vivid, thrilling description."—THE NATION.

‘* Wonderfully vivid and realistic, full of the color of the time, and characterized by re-
markable power, . . . there are so many pieces of excellent workmanship in ‘Micah
Clarke’ that it would take too long to name them.”—N. Y. TriBuneg.

‘* We make bold to say that . . . this story of Mr. Doyle’s is easily the best exam-
ple of the class of fiction to which it belongs of the year. Two descriptions of battles in
this story are, it seems to us, among the most brilliant and spirited bits of writing we have
lately had. But it is not merely two or three striking incidents, but the maintained interest
of the entire tale, that leads us to give it such praise as we have risked above. We shall
look with interest for a second story from Mr. Doyle’s pen.”—CHRISTIAN UNION.

‘It is due to the dramatic power of the author that this story becomes so absorbing.
There is quickness and vivacity in it, and the story of the soldier of fortune of that day,
Saxon, who has acquired this military art in Germany, is capitally told. . . . Mr.
Doyle never pauses, and so the reader can go at full gallop through the story.”—N. Y, TimEs-

THE CAPTAIN OF THE POLE-STAR:
And Other Tales.

By A. CONAN DOYLE.

Crown 8vo, cloth, $1.25.

“Lovers of wild adventure, of brilliant satire, of quiet pathos, will all find wherewith to
be content in the little book, which, in its variety of subject and treatment, reads more like a
volume of stories from Maga than a collection of tales from one of the same pen.”
“ —ATHENuUM, London.
‘* This volume of short stories proves Mr. Doyle to be an expert of the most delightful
and skillfull kind in tales of mystery, imagination, and fancy. . . . The book formsa
most delightful addition to the too poor literature of good short stories.”
—ScorsMAN ATHEN/EUM.
‘All the stories will repay careful reading, as in addition to the interest of the plots

the style is singularly varied and reveals as many devices of the literary artist as that of
Robert Louis Stevenson.”—San Francisco CHRONICLE,

 

LONGMANS, GREEN, & 00, 15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK.
“CAN THIS BE LOVE?”
A NOVEL.
By Mrs. PARR,

AUTHOR OF ‘DOROTHY FOX,” ‘‘ADAM AND EVE,”’ ETC.

With Frontispiece and Vignette by Charles Kerr.
12mo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.

“A wholesome tale, . . . Itis a pleasant story, delightfully told, and with a whole-
some English atmosphere.”—Book Buyer, N. Y.

“ This is a story that will repay the time spent over it. Mrs. Parr is a strong and inter—
esting writer. Her characters are live characters, and the incidents through which they
move are natural and realistic. Her present story is throughout an exceptionally interesting
one, and the reader will find his interest in it kept up to the end. It is handsomely printed
on good paper.”—CHRISTIAN AT Work, N. Y.

_ The touches of humor . . . are pleasant; the descriptions of scenery are charm-
ing; the plot is well and artistically planned and executed ; but, best of all, the whole tone of
the book is pure and free from morbidness, and one can read it from cover to cover without
finding the taint of vulgarity and super-emotionalism (to call it by the most polite name)
which degrades so much of modern fiction.” —LrTERARY WoRLD, Boston.

“It is a love story of more than usual interest and is well worth reading. . . . The
three principal persons in the book are fine character studies, and the story is strong and
interesting.” ADVERTISER, Portland, Me.

“Mrs. Parr has given us an altogether charming book.” —TRAVELLER, Boston.

_ ‘One of the daintiest, most homelike and natural stories of the week . . . the girl
is a downright, genuine, substantial girl, like the girls we know in the world and love,”
—ComMMERCIAL GAZETTE, Cincinnati,

THE HOUSE OF THE WOLEF.

A ROMANCE.
By STANLEY J. WEYMAN,

AUTHOR OF “A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE,” ETC.

 

 

With Frontispiece and Vignette by Charles Kerr.
12mo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.

‘A delightful volume _. . . one of the brightest, briskest tales I have met with for a
long time. Dealing with the Eve of St. Bartholomew it portrays that night of horror from a
point entirely new, and, we may add, relieves the gloom by many a flash and gleam of sun-
shine. Best of all is the conception of the Vidame. His character alone would make the
book live.’—Critic, N. Y.

“Recounted as by an eye witness in a forceful way with a rapid and graphic style that
commands interest and admiration. :

Of the half dozen stories of St. Bartholomew’s Ee which we bey read this ranks first
in vivi Lica f perception, reserve power, and high principle.
putin scan? oe bene E : e Ley GoioTTAN Union, N. Y.

“ A romance which, although short, deserves a place in literature along side of Charles
Reade’s ‘Cloister and the Hearth.’ . . . We have given Mr. Weyman’s book not only
a thorough reading with great interest, but also a more than usual amount of space because
we consider it one of the best examples in recent fiction of how thrillmg and even bloody
adventures and scenes may be described in a style that is graphic and true to detail, and yet

delicate, quaint, and free from all coarseness and brutality.”
—CoMMERCIAL ADVERTISER, N. Y.

 

LONGMANS, GREEN, & 00., 15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK.
THE ONE GOOD GUEST.

A NOVEL.
By L. B. WALFORD,

AUTHOR OF ‘* MR. SMITH,” ‘‘ THE BABY’S GRANDMOTHER,”’ ETC,, ETC,

12mo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.00.

“Tt is a delightful picture of life at an English estate, which is presided over by a young
* Squire’ and his young sister. Their experiences are cleverly told, and the complications
which arise are amusing and interesting. There are many humorous touches, too, which
add no slight strength to the story.”—Boston TimEs.

‘A charming little social comedy, permeated with a refinement of spontaneous humor
and brilliant with touches of shrewd and searching satire.”—BosToNn BEACON.

“The story is bright, amusing, full of interest and incident, and the characters are ad-
mirably drawn. Every reader will recognize a friend or acquaintance in some of the people
here portrayed. Every one will wish he could have been a guest at Duckhill Manor, and
will hope that the author has more stories to tell.”—Pus.ic Opinion.

‘A natural, amusing, kindly tale, told with great skill. The characters are delightfully
human, the individuality well caught and preserved, the quaint humor lightens every page,
and a simple delicacy and tenderness complete an excellent specimen of story telling.”

—PRovIDENCE JOURNAL.

‘For neat little excursions into English social life, and that of the best, commend us to
the writer of ‘The One Good Guest.’”—N, Y. Times.

‘The story is bright, amusing, full of interest and incident, and the characters are ad-
mirably drawn, Every reader will recognize a friend or acquaintance in some of the people
here portrayed. Every one will wish he could have been a guest at Duckhill Manor, and
‘will hope that the author has more stories to tell.,—PorTLAND OREGONIAN.

BEGGARS ALL.

A NOVEL.
By MISS L. DOUGALL.
Sixth Edition. 12mo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.00.

‘This is one of the strongest as well as most original romances of the year. . . . The
plotis extraordinary. . . . The close of the story is powerful and natural, . . . A
masterpiece of restrained and legitimate dramatic fiction.”—LirERARY WoRLD.

‘“‘To say that ‘Beggars All’ is a remarkable novel is to put the case mildly indeed, for
it is one of the most original, discerning, and thoroughly philosophical presentations of
‘character that has appeared in English for manya day... . Emphatically a novel
that thoughtful people ought to read . . . the perusal of it will by many be reckoned
among the intellectual experiences that are not easily forgotten.’—BosTON BEACON,

“A story of thrilling interest.”—Home JourNAL.

“(A very unusual quality of novel. It is written with ability; it tells a strong story with
elaborate analysis of character and motive . . . it is of decided interest and worth
reading.” —CoMMERCIAL ADvertismr, N. Y.

“Iris more than a story for mere summer reading, but deserves a permanent place
among the best works of modern fiction. The author has struck a vein of originality purely
herown. . . . Itis tragic, pathetic, humerous by turns. . . . Miss Dougall has, in
fact, scored a great success. Her book is artistic, realistic, intensely dramatic—in fact, one
of the novels of the year.”—BosTon TRAVELLER.

. , “ ‘Beggars All’ is a noble work of art, but is also something more and something better.
itis a book with a soul in it, and in a sense, therefore, it may be described as an inspired
work, The inspiration of genius may or may not be lacking to it, but the inspiration of a
pure and beautiful spirituality pervades it completely . . . the characters are truth-
fully and powerfully drawn, the situations finely imagined, and the story profoundly
interesting.”—CHICAGO TRIBUNE.

LONGMANS, GREEN, & 00.,15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK.

 

 
MAJOR JOSHUA.

A NOVEL.
By FRANCIS FORSTER.

12mo, Cloth, $1.00.

“Tn ‘Major Joshua’ Mr. Francis Forster has brought before us one of the most
curious and interesting, though certainly not one of the most admirable, characters in
recent fiction. . . . Onecan scarcely believe that such an excellent story as ‘Major
Joshua’ is a first effort."—DUNDEE ADVERTISER.

“We have rarely met a novel by a new hand which is written with such careful
restraint, and which in a comparatively short compass is so full of meaning. There is.
humor in it also, and a vein of satire which is not too serious to be entertaining.”

—WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.

“The charm of the book, however, is largely in the unique character of Major
Joshua, whose name is Robinson. He is a person whose chief business is to attend to
other people’s business. An imperturbable old busybody who looks upon matrimony
as a huge joke, he makes a tremendous amount of mischief, but always in a grimly
humorous sort of way.’”—BosSTON BEACON. .

“ Major Joshua Robinson is a new character in literature. . . He can hardly
be called the hero of Francis Forster’s new novel, since he is not of the stuff of which
heroes are made; but the author makes him the prominent figure in a very delightful
story.”’—BOSTON ADVERTISER.

__“It is more interesting than nine-tenths of the novels now written, since it deals
with unusual but not unnatural people and analyzes their motives and emotions in a
remarkably clever way. . . . Mr. Forster has written a book which people will

think about.’”—DETROIT PRESS.

DAVID’S LOOM.

A STORY OF ROCHDALE LIFE IN THE EARLY YEARS OF
THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

By JOHN TRAFFORD CLEGG (Th’ Owd Weighver),

AUTHOR OF ‘‘ HEART STRINGS,’? ‘* PIECES IN ROCHDALE DIALECT,” ETC.

 

Crown 8vo, Cloth, $1.00.

“This is a very remarkable book in many ways. For one thing it is a triumph in ver-
nacular ; for another it is a very successful experiment in a hitherto untried and apparently
unpromising field of historical fiction. It gives us Rochdale life and dialect, tragedy and
comedy in the early part ofthe present century . . - altogether ‘ David’s Loom’ is one
of the most interesting and artistically satisfactory romances of the historical kind that have

been published for a long time.” —SPECTATOR, Lonpon.

“The story is a tragic one, and powerful as such, while its humorous passages in the
Lancashire dialect are by far its best parts. . . . Itisa deeply interesting story, and
has real literary merit,” —~SCOTSMAN.

“ A thrilling story. . . » The narrative never flags in interest from the opening to
the concluding pages.’’—DaiLy TELEGRAPH.

 

LONGMANS, GREEN, & 00., 15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK.
KEITH DERAMORE.

A NOVEL.
By the Author of ‘‘ Miss Molly.”

Crown 8vo, Cloth, $1.00.

 

“One of the strongest novels for the year. . . . A book of absorbing and sustained
dnterest, full of those touches of pathos, gusts of passion, and quick glimpses into the very
hearts of men and women which are a necessary equipment of any great writer of fiction.”

—STAR.

‘“‘ A story with originality of plot and a number of interesting and skillfully drawn char-

acters. . . . Well worthy ofa careful perusal.”—Boston BEACON.

‘“‘The few important characters introduced are very clearly and well drawn ; one isa
quite unusual type and reveals a good deal of power in the author. It is a live story of
more than ordinary interest.”—REVIEW OF REVIEWS.

“A novel of quiet but distinct force and of marked refinement in manner. The few
characters in ‘ Keith Deramore’ are clearly and delicately drawn, and the slight plot is well
‘sustained.”’—CuRISTIAN UNION.

‘The author of ‘Miss Molly’ shall have her reward in the reception of ‘Keith Dera-
more.’ If it is not popular there is no value in prophecy.”—SPRINGFIELD REPUBLICAN.
‘The stary is strong and interesting, worthy of a high place in fiction.”
—Pus ic OPINnion.
_ _ ‘Its development can be followed with great interest. It is well written and entertain-
ang throughout.”—TuHeE Critic.
‘* An exceptionally interesting novel, It isan admirable addition to an admirable series.”
—Bosron TRAVELLER.

‘« It contains character-drawing which places it much above the average love story, and
makes the reading of it worth while. It is a fine study of a normally-selfish man. There is
humor in it, and sustained interest.”,—BuFFALO EXPRESS.

A MORAL DILEMMA.

By ANNIE M. THOMPSON.

 

Crown 8vo, Cloth, $1.00,

 

‘We have in this most delightful volume . . . anew novel byanew author. The
title is happily chosen, the plot is thrillingly interesting, its development is unusually artistic,
the style is exceptionally pure, the descriptions are graphic. In short we have one of the
best of recent novels, and the author gives great promise.” —Boston ‘TRAVELLER.

“‘A novel of rare beauty and absorbing interest. Its plot, which is constructed with
great skill, is decidedly unconventional in its development, and its denouement, although
unanticipated until near its climax, really comes as an agreeable surprise. . . . AS a
diterary work, ‘A Moral Dilemma’ will take high rank.”—Boston Home JouRNAL.

“The story is well written and gives promise of the development of a writer who will
take place among the ranks of those of her sex who are supplying what is much needed at
this time—entertaining, wholesome literature.’—YaLE Courant.

“‘The author writes with vigor and earnestness, and the book is one of interest and
power.”—Pusiic Opinion.

“The story is strongly told.’— INDEPENDENT.

‘“‘A strong story which leaves the reader better for the perusal. A touchlight, as
Barrie's carries one through the successive scenes, which are fraught with deep interest.”

—Pusiic Levcer.

LONGMANS, GREEN, & 00., 15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK.

 
THE UNBIDDEN GUEST.

By E. W. HORNUNG,

AUTHOR OF ‘TINY LUTTRELL,”’ ‘‘A BRIDE FROM THE BUSH,’ ETC.
With Frontispiece and Vignette. Crown 8vo, Cloth, $1.00.

«©, , . the heroism in this romance at once excites your curiosity. . . . Mr.
Hornung has the exact qualities of the story teller. You delight in being fooled, and the
author fools you to the top of your bent. . . . ‘The Unbidden Guest’ is a remarkable
story, replete with pathos, and though there is plenty of fun-in it the dramatic effects are the
more conspicuous. It is only a writer of exceeding talent who could work up a heroine like

Missy and make you not only forgive but like her.”—New York TiMEs.

‘© tale of Australia with a plot which is not in the least trite, and a heroine quite of the
unusual order. . . . Thestory is well told.”.—Pusiic OPINION.

‘A strong and clever story.”"—THE WorLp, N. Y.

“*The Unbidden Guest’ is bold in conception and tender in treatment. . . . Mr.

Hornung has written quite a little gem of romantic fiction, thoroughly Australian in setting,
thoroughly natural, if a little improbable, perfectly illusive, both as to character and as to
incidents, and atleast as pathetic in its situations as ‘A Bride fromthe Bush.” . . .

Many will be disposed to think it the best story which its author has produced.”
—ANTHENEUM.

THE NEW EDEN.

A STORY.
By C, J. CUTLIFFE HYNE,

 

With Frontispiece and Vignette.
Crown 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.00.

 

“ One of the most peculiar stories of the fall. . . . The tale unfolded is very ingene
jous, interesting, and well written. It is imaginative decidedly. . .

The way these untutored human beings act upon meeting, and afterwards, is told with
great dexterity, and primitive human nature is revealed in many aspects. The mental un-
foldings resulting from their experiences and surroundings are decidedly interesting, and
the descriptions of scenery are brilliant . . . fascinating reading, is charmingly idyllic,

and above all is original from cover to cover.”—Boston TimEs.

_‘'Acleverly written story. . . . The masculine traits of Adam and the feminine
traits of Eve, inherent in both, are wrought out with skill and naturalness, and the whole
makes an unusually interesting study and is also analogy from which many interesting con-
clusions can be drawn.”—HARTFORD TIMES.

“The book is an excellent piece. of purely imaginative writing, and is wholly original in
its conception.”—PuBLic OPINION. .

‘ Something in a new vein. It ought to make a sensation, and we hazard nothing in
saying that it will sometime run through many editions. We have here the best work of a
brilliant author.”,—BosTon TRAVELLER,

“A book that is likely to arouse no little animated comment. . . . His chronicle of
the experiences of a modern Adam and Eve is full of entertainment as well as of wisdom.

. . The tale has obviously more than one meaning, and it is carried out with so much

vivacity and verisimilitude that it cannot fail to excite a very decided interest.”
—TueE Beacon, Boston,

 

LONGMANS, GREEN, & 00,,15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK.
H. RIDER HAGGARD’S
Popular Novels.

THE PEOPLE OF THE MIST. Illustrated. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.

MONTEZUMA’S DAUGHTER. Illustrated. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.

NADA THE LILY. Illustrated. 12mo, cloth, $1.00; paper cover,
50 cents.

ALLAN QUATERMAIN. Illustrated. Half cloth, 75 cents ; paper
cover, 25 cents.

MAIWA’S REVENGE. Illustrated. Half cloth, 75 cents; paper
cover, 25 cents.

COLONEL QUARITCH. Half cloth, 75 cents; paper cover, 25
cents.

CLEOPATRA. Illustrated. Half cloth, 75 cents; paper cover, 25
cents.

BEATRICE, Illustrated. Half cloth, 75 cents; paper cover, 25
cents.

ERIC BRIGHTEYES. Half cloth, 75 cents ; paper cover, 25 cents.

ALLAN’S WIFE, and Other Tales. Illustrated. Half cloth, 75
cents ; paper cover, 25 cents.

THE WITCH’S HEAD. Half cloth, 75 cents.

MR. MEESON’S WILL. Half cloth, 75*cents; paper cover,
25 cents.

DAWN. Illustrated. Half cloth, 75 cents.

THE WORLD’S DESIRE. By H. Riper HAGGARD and ANDREW
Lanc. Half cloth, 75 cents; paper cover, 25 cents.

KING SOLOMON’S MINES. Half cloth, 75 cents; paper cover,
25 cents. :

SHE. Illustrated. Half cloth, 75 cents ; paper cover, 25 cents.

JESS. Half cloth, 75 cents; paper cover, 25 cents.

 

LONGMANS, GREEN, & 00., 15 EAST 16th STREET, NEW YORK.
 
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