[Illustration: Detail of Belvane on horseback and throwing something]
The Lady Belvane sits in her garden. She is very happy. An enormous quill-pen, taken from a former favourite goose and coloured red, is in her right hand. The hair of her dark head, held on one side, touches the paper whereon she writes, and her little tongue peeps out between her red lips. Her left hand taps the table—one-two, one-two, one-two, one-two, one-two. She is composing.
Wonderful woman!
You remember that scene with the Princess Hyacinth? "I feel we want a little outside help in our affairs." A fortnight of suspense before Prince Udo arrived. What had the ring done to him? At the best, even if there would be no Udo at all to interfere, nevertheless she knew that she had lost her footing at the Palace. She and the Princess would now be open enemies. At the worst—those magic rings were so untrustworthy!—a Prince, still powerful, and now seriously annoyed, might be leagued against her.
Yet she composed.
And what is she writing? She is entering for the competition in connection with the Encouragement of Literature Scheme: the last scheme which the Princess had signed.
I like to think of her peacefully writing at a time when her whole future hung in the balance. Roger sneers at her. "Even now," he says, "she was hoping to wring a last bag-full of gold from her wretched country." I deny emphatically that she was doing anything of the sort. She was entering for a duly authorised competition under the pen-name of Charlotte Patacake. The fact that the Countess Belvane, according to the provisions of the scheme, was sole judge of the competition, is beside the point. Belvane's opinion of Charlotte Patacake's poetry was utterly sincere, and uninfluenced in any way by monetary considerations. If Patacake were rewarded the first prize it would be because Belvane honestly thought she was worth it.
One other fact by way of defence against Roger's slanders. As judge, Belvane had chosen the subject of the prize poems. Now Belvane and Patacake both excelled in the lighter forms of lyrical verse; yet the subject of the poem was to be epic. "The Barodo-Euralian War"—no less. How many modern writers would be as fair?
"THE BARODO-EURALIAN WAR."
This line is written in gold, and by itself would obtain a prize in any local competition.
King Merriwig the First rode out to warAs many other kings had done before!Five hundred men behind him marched to fight—
There follows a good deal of scratching out, and then comes (a sudden inspiration) this sublimely simple line:
Left-right, left-right, left-right, left-right, left-right.
One can almost hear the men moving.
What gladsome cheers assailed the balmy air—They came from north, from south, from everywhere!No wight that stood upon that sacred sceneCould gaze upon the sight unmoved, I ween:No wight that stood upon that sacred spotCould gaze upon the sight unmoved, I wot:
It is not quite clear whether the last couplet is an alternative to the couplet before or is purposely added in order to strengthen it. Looking over her left shoulder it seems to me that there is a line drawn through the first one, but I cannot see very clearly because of her hair, which will keep straying over the page.
Why do they march so fearless and so bold?The answer is not very quickly told.To put it shortly, the Barodian kingInsulted Merriwig like anything—King Merriwig, the dignified and wise,Who saw him flying over with surprise,As did his daughter, Princess Hyacinth.
This was as far as she had got.
She left the table and began to walk round her garden. There is nothing like it for assisting thought. However, to-day it was not helping much; she went three times round and still couldn't think of a rhyme for Hyacinth. "Plinth" was a little difficult to work in; "besides," she reminded herself, "I don't quite know what it means." Belvane felt as I do about poetry: that however incomprehensible it may be to the public, the author should be quite at ease with it.
She added up the lines she had written already—seventeen. If she stopped there, it would be the only epic that had stopped at the seventeenth line.
She sighed, stretched her arms, and looked up at the sky. The weather was all against her. It was the ideal largesse morning. . . .
Twenty minutes later she was on her cream-white palfrey. Twenty-one minutes later Henrietta Crossbuns had received a bag of gold neatly under the eye, as she bobbed to her Ladyship. To this extent only did H. Crossbuns leave her mark upon Euralian history; but it was a mark which lasted for a full month.
Hyacinth knew nothing of all this. She did not even know that Belvane was entering for the prize poem. She had forgotten her promise to encourage literature in the realm.
And why? Ah, ladies, can you not guess why? She was thinking of Prince Udo of Araby. What did he look like? Was he dark or fair? Did his hair curl naturally or not?
Was he wondering at all whatshelooked like?
Wiggs had already decided that he was to fall in love with her Royal Highness and marry her.
"I think," said Wiggs, "that he'll be very tall, and have lovely blue eyes and golden hair."
This is what they were like in all the books she had ever dusted; like this were the seven Princes (now pursuing perilous adventures in distant countries) to whom the King had promised Hyacinth's hand—Prince Hanspatch of Tregong, Prince Ulric, the Duke of Highanlow, and all the rest of them. Poor Prince Ulric! In the moment of victory he was accidentally fallen upon by the giant whom he was engaged in undermining, and lost all appetite for adventure thereby. Indeed, in his latter years he was alarmed by anything larger than a goldfish, and lived a life of strictest seclusion.
[Illustration: Twenty-one minutes later Henrietta Crossbuns was acknowledging a bag of gold][Illustration: Twenty-one minutes later Henrietta Crossbuns was acknowledging a bag of gold]
"Ithink he'll be dark," said Hyacinth. Her own hair was corn-coloured.
Poor Prince Hanspatch of Tregong; I've just remembered about him—no, I haven't, it was the Duke of Highanlow. Poor Duke of Highanlow! A misunderstanding with a wizard having caused his head to face the wrong way round, he was so often said good-bye to at the very moment of arrival, that he gradually lost his enthusiasm for social enterprises and confined himself to his own palace, where his acrobatic dexterity in supplying himself with soup was a constant source of admiration to his servants. . . .
However, it was Prince Udo of whom they were thinking now. The Messenger had returned from Araby; his Royal Highness must be expected on the morrow.
"I do hope he'll be comfortable in the Purple Room," said Hyacinth. "I wonder if it wouldn't have been better to have left him in the Blue Room, after all."
They had had him in the Blue Room two days ago, until Hyacinth thought that perhaps he would be more comfortable in the Purple Room, after all.
"The Purple Room has the best view," said Wiggs helpfully.
"And it gets the sun. Wiggs, don't forget to put some flowers there. And have you given him any books?"
"I gave him two," said Wiggs. "Quests for Princes, andWild Animals at Home."
"Oh, I'm sure he'll like those. Now let's think what we shall do when he comes. He'll arrive some time in the afternoon. Naturally he will want a little refreshment."
"Would he like a picnic in the forest?" asked Wiggs.
"I don't think any one wants a picnic after a long journey."
"Ilovepicnics."
"Yes, dear; but, you see, Prince Udo's much older than you, and I expect he's had so many picnics that he's tired of them. I suppose really I ought to receive him in the Throne Room, but that's so—so——"
"Stuffy," said Wiggs.
"That's just it. We should feel uncomfortable with each other the whole time. I think I shall receive him up here; I never feel so nervous in the open air."
"Will the Countess be here?" asked Wiggs.
"No," said the Princess coldly. "At least," she corrected herself, "she will not be invited. Good afternoon, Countess." It was like her, thought Hyacinth, to arrive at that very moment.
Belvane curtsied low.
"Good afternoon, your Royal Highness. I am here purely on a matter of business. I thought it my duty to inform your Royal Highness of the result of the Literature prize." She spoke meekly, and as one who forgave Hyacinth for her unkindness towards her.
"Certainly, Countess. I shall be glad to hear."
The Countess unrolled a parchment.
"The prize has been won," she said, "by——" she held the parchment a little closer to her eyes, "by Charlotte Patacake."
"Oh, yes. Who is she?"
"A most deserving woman, your Royal Highness. If she is the woman I'm thinking of, a most deserving person, to whom the money will be more than welcome. Her poem shows a sense of values combined with—er—breadth, and—er—distance, such as I have seldom seen equalled. The—er—technique is only excelled by the—shall I say?—tempermentality, the boldness of the colouring, by the—how shall I put it?—the firmness of the outline. In short——"
"In short," said the Princess, "you like it."
"Your Royal Highness, it is unique. But naturally you will wish to hear it for yourself. It is only some twelve hundred lines long. I will declaim it to your Royal Highness."
She held the manuscript out at the full length of her left arm, struck an attitude with the right arm, and began in her most thrilling voice:
"King Merriwig the First rode out to war,As many other kings——"
"Yes, Countess, but another time. I am busy this afternoon. As you know, I think, the Prince Udo of Araby arrives to-morrow, and——"
Belvane's lips were still moving, and her right arm swayed up and down. "What gladsome cheers assailed the balmy air!" she murmured to herself, and her hand when up to heaven. "They come from north, from south" (she pointed in the directions mentioned), "from everywhere. No wight that stood——"
"He will be received privately up here by myself in the first place, and afterwards——"
"Could gaze upon the sight unmoved, I wot," whispered Belvane, and placed her hand upon her breast to show that anyhow it had been too much forher. "Why do they march so——I beg your Royal Highness's pardon. I was so carried away by this wonderful poem. I do beg of your Royal Highness to read it."
The Princess waved the manuscript aside.
"I am not unmindful of the claims of literature, Countess, and I shall certainly read the poem another time. Meanwhile I can, I hope, trust you to see that the prize is awarded to the rightful winner. What I am telling you now is that the Prince Udo is arriving to-morrow."
Belvane looked innocently puzzled.
"Prince Udo—Udo—would that be Prince Udo of Carroway, your Royal Highness? A tall man with three legs?"
"Prince Udo of Araby," said Hyacinth severely. "I think I have already mentioned him to your ladyship. He will make a stay of some months."
"But howdelightful, your Royal Highness, to see a man again! We were all getting so dull together! We want a man to wake us up a little, don't we, Wiggs? I will go and give orders about his room at once, your Royal Highness. You will wish him to be in the Purple Room, of course?"
That settled it.
"He will be in the Blue Room," said Hyacinth decidedly.
"Certainly, your Royal Highness. Fancy, Wiggs, a man again! I will go and see about it now, if I may have your Royal Highness's leave to withdraw?"
A little mystified by Belvane's manner, Hyacinth inclined her head, and the Countess withdrew.
[Illustration: Detail of Udo as an animal]
Wiggs gave a parting pat to the tablecloth and stood looking at it with her head on one side.
"Now, then," she said, "have we got everything?"
"What about sardines?" said Woggs in her common way. (I don't know what she's doing in this scene at all, but Roger Scurvilegs insists on it.)
"I don't think aPrincewould likesardines," said Wiggs.
"IfI'dbeen on a long journey, I'dlovesardines. Itisa very long journey from Araby, isn't it?"
"Awful long. Why, it's taken him nearly a week. Perhaps," she added hopefully, "he's had something on the way."
"Perhaps he took some sandwiches with him," said Woggs, thinking that this would be a good thing to do.
"What do you think he'll be like, Woggs?"
Woggs though for a long time.
"Like the King," she said. "Only different," she added, as an afterthought.
Up came the Princess for the fifth time that afternoon, all excitement.
"Well," she said, "is everything ready?"
"Yes, your Royal Highness. Except Woggs and me didn't quite know about sardines."
The Princess laughed happily.
"I think there will be enough there for him. It all looks very nice."
She turned round and discovered behind her the last person she wanted to see just then.
The-last-person-she-wanted-to-see-just-then curtsied effectively.
"Forgive me, your Royal Highness," she said profusely, "but I thought I had left Charlotte Patacake's priceless manuscript up here. No; evidently I was mistaken, your Royal Highness. I will withdraw, your Royal Highness, as I know your Royal Highness would naturally wish to receive his Royal Highness alone."
Listening to this speech one is impressed with Woggs' method of calling everybody "Mum."
"Not at all, Countess," said Hyacinth coldly. "We would prefer you to stay and help us receive his Royal Highness. He is a little late, I think."
Belvane looked unspeakably distressed.
"Oh, I dohopethat nothing has happened to him on the way," she exclaimed. "I've an uneasy feeling that something may have occurred."
[Illustration: Princess Hyacinth gave a shriek and faltered slowly backwards, verso][Illustration: Princess Hyacinth gave a shriek and faltered slowly backwards, recto]
"What could have happened to him?" asked Hyacinth, not apparently very much alarmed.
"Oh, your Royal Highness, it's just a sort of silly feeling of mine. There may be nothing in it."
There was a noise of footsteps from below; a man's voice was heard. The Princess and the Countess, both extremely nervous, but from entirely different reasons, arranged suitable smiles of greeting upon their faces; Wiggs and Woggs stood in attitudes of appropriate meekness by the table. The Court Painter could have made a beautiful picture of it.
"His Royal Highness Prince Udo of Araby," announced the voice of an attendant.
"A nervous moment," said Belvane to herself. "Can the ring have failed to act?"
Udo trotted in.
"It hasn't," said Belvane.
Princess Hyacinth gave a shriek, and faltered slowly backwards; Wiggs, who was familiar with these little accidents in the books which she dusted, and Woggs, who had a natural love for any kind of animal, stood their ground.
"Whatever is it?" murmured Hyacinth.
It was as well that Belvane was there.
"Allow me to present to your Royal Highness," she said, stepping forward, "his Royal Highness Prince Udo of Araby."
"PrinceUdo?" said Hyacinth, all unwilling to believe it.
"I'm afraid so," said Udo gloomily. He had thought over this meeting a good deal in the last two or three days, and he realised now that he had underestimated the difficulties of it.
Hyacinth remembered that she was a Princess and a woman.
"I'm delighted to welcome your Royal Highness to Euralia," she said. "Won't you sit down—I mean up—er, down." (Howdidrabbits sit? Or whatever he was?)
Udo decided to sit up.
"Thank you. You've no idea how difficult it is to talk on four legs to somebody higher up. It strains the neck so."
There was an awkward silence. Nobody quite knew what to say.
Except Belvane.
She turned to Udo with her most charming smile. "Did you have a pleasant journey?" she asked sweetly.
"No," said Udo coldly.
"Oh, do tell us what happened to you?" cried Hyacinth. "Did you meet some terrible enchanter on the way? Oh, I am so dreadfully sorry."
When one is not feeling very well there is a certain type of question which is always annoying.
"Can't youseewhat's happened to me?" said Udo crossly. "I don't knowhowit happened. I had come two days' journey from Araby, when——"
"Please, your Royal Highness," said Wiggs, "is thisyourtail in the salt?" She took it out, gave it a shake, and handed it back to him.
"Oh, thank you, thank you—two days' journey from Araby when I woke up one afternoon and found myself like this. I ask you to imagine my annoyance. My first thought naturally was to return home and hide myself; but I told myself, Princess, thatyouwanted me."
The Princess could not help being touched by this, said as it was with a graceful movement of the ears and a caressing of the right whisker, but she wondered a little what she would do with him now that she had got him.
"Er—whatareyou?" put in Belvane kindly, knowing how men are always glad to talk about themselves.
Udo had caught sight of a well-covered table, and was looking at it with a curious mixture of hope and resignation.
"Very, very hungry," he said, speaking with the air of one who knows.
The Princess, whose mind had been travelling, woke up suddenly.
"Oh, I was forgetting my manners," she said with a smile for which the greediest would have forgiven her. "Let us sit down and refresh ourselves. May I present to your Royal Highness the Countess Belvane."
"Do I shake hands or pat him?" murmured that mistress of Court etiquette, for once at a loss.
Udo placed a paw over his heart and bowed profoundly.
"Charmed," he said gallantly, and coming from a cross between a lion, a rabbit, and a woolly lamb the merest suggestion of gallantry has a most pleasing effect.
They grouped themselves round the repast.
"A little sherbet, your Royal Highness?" said Hyacinth, who presided over the bowl.
Udo was evidently longing to say yes, but hesitated.
"I wonder if I dare."
"It's very good sherbet," said Wiggs, to encourage him.
"I'm sure it is, my dear. But the question is, Do I like sherbet?"
"You can't help knowing if you likesherbet."
"Don't bother him, Wiggs," said Hyacinth, "a venison sandwich, dear Prince?"
"The question is, Do I like venison sandwiches?"
"Ido," announced Woggs to any one who was interested.
"You see," explained Udo, "I really don't knowwhatI like."
They were all surprised at this, particularly Woggs. Belvane, who was enjoying herself too much to wish to do anything but listen, said nothing, and it was the Princess who obliged Udo by asking him what he meant. It was a subject upon which he was longing to let himself go to somebody.
"Well," he said, expanding himself a little, so that Wiggs had to remove his tail this time from the custard, "what am I?"
Nobody ventured to offer an opinion.
"Am I a hare? Then put me next to the red currant jelly, or whatever it is that hares like."
The anxious eye of the hostess wandered over the table.
"Am I a lion?" went on Udo, developing his theme. "Then pass me Wiggs."
"Oh, please don't be a lion," said Wiggs gently, as she stroked his mane.
"But haven't you a feeling for anything?" asked Hyacinth.
"I have a great feeling of emptiness. I yearn forsomething, only I don't quite know what."
"I hope it isn't sardines," whispered Wiggs to Woggs.
"But what have you been eating on the way?" asked the Princess.
"Oh, grass and things chiefly. I thought I should be safe with grass."
"And were you—er—safe?" asked Belvane, with a great show of anxiety.
Udo coughed and said nothing.
"I know it's silly of me," said Hyacinth, "but I still don't quite understand. I should have thought that if you were a—a——"
"Quite so," said Udo.
"—then you would have known by instinct what a—a——"
"Exactly," said Udo.
"Likes to eat."
"Ah, I thought you'd think that. That's just what I thought when this—when I began to feel unwell. But I've worked it out since, and it's all wrong."
"Thisisinteresting," said Belvane, settling herself more comfortably. "Dogo on."
"Well, when——" He coughed and looked round at them coyly. "This is really rather a delicate subject."
"Not at all," murmured Hyacinth.
"Well, it's like this. When an enchanter wants to annoy you he generally turns you into an animal of some kind."
Belvane achieved her first blush since she was seventeen.
"Itisa humorous way they have," she said.
"But suppose you really were an animal altogether, it wouldn't annoy you at all. An elephant isn't annoyed at being an elephant; he just tries to be a good elephant, and he'd be miserable if he couldn't do things with his trunk. The annoying thing is to look like an elephant, to have the very complicated—er—inside of an elephant, and yet all the time really to be a man."
They were all intensely interested. Woggs thought that it was going to lead up to a revelation of what sort of animal Prince Udo really was, but in this she was destined to be disappointed. After all there were advantages in Udo's present position. As a man he had never been listened to so attentively.
"Now suppose for a moment I am a lion. I have the—er—delicate apparatus of a lion, but the beautiful thoughts and aspirations of a Prince. Thus there is one—er—side of me which craves for raw beef, but none the less there is a higher side of me" (he brought his paw up towards his heart), "which—well, you know howyou'dfeel about it yourself."
The Princess shuddered.
"Ishould," she said, with conviction.
Belvane was interested, but thought it all a little crude.
"You see the point," went on Udo. "A baby left to itself doesn't know what is good for it. Left to itself it would eat anything. Now turn a man suddenly into an animal and he is in exactly the same state as that baby."
"I hadn't thought of it like that," said Hyacinth.
"I'vehadto think of it! Now let us proceed further with the matter." Udo was thoroughly enjoying himself. He had not had such a time since he had given an address on Beetles to all the leading citizens of Araby at his coming-of-age. "Suppose again that I am a lion. I know from what I have read or seen that raw meat agrees best with the lion's—er—organisation, and however objectionable it might look I should be foolish not to turn to it for sustenance. But if you don't quite know what animal you're supposed to be, see how difficult the problem becomes. It's a question of trying all sorts of horrible things in order to find out what agrees with you." His eyes took on a faraway look, a look in which the most poignant memories seem to be reflected. "I've been experimenting," he said, "for the last three days."
They all gazed sadly and sympathetically at him. Except Belvane. She of course wouldn't.
"What went best?" she asked brightly.
"Oddly enough," said Udo, cheering up a little, "banana fritters. Have you ever kept any animal who lived entirely on banana fritters?"
"Never," smiled the Princess.
"Well, that's the animal I probably am." He sighed and added, "There were one or two animals I wasn't." For a little while he seemed to be revolving bitter memories, and then went on, "I don't suppose any of you here have any idea how very prickly thistles are when they are going down. Er—may I try a watercress sandwich? It doesn't suit the tail, but it seems to go with the ears." He took a large bite and added through the leaves, "I hope I don't bore you, Princess, with my little troubles."
Hyacinth clasped his paw impulsively.
"My dear Prince Udo, I'm only longing to help. We must think of some way of getting this horrible enchantment off you. There are so many wise books in the library, and my father has composed a spell which—oh, I'm sure we shall soon have you all right again."
Udo took another sandwich.
"Very good of you, Princess, to say so. You understand how annoying a little indisposition of this kind is to a man of my temperament." He beckoned to Wiggs. "How do you make these?" he asked in an undertone.
Gracefully undulating, Belvane rose from her seat.
"Well," she said, "I must go and see that the stable——" she broke off in a pretty confusion—"Howsillyof me, I mean the Royal Apartment is prepared. Have I your Royal Highness's leave to withdraw?"
She had.
"And, Wiggs, dear, you too had better run along and see if you can help. You may leave the watercress sandwiches," she added, as Wiggs hesitated for a moment.
With a grateful look at her Royal Highness Udo helped himself to another one.
[Illustration: Detail of a child with a very large boot]
"Now, my dear Princess," said Udo, as soon as they were alone. "Let me know in what way I can help you."
"Oh, Prince Udo," said Hyacinth earnestly, "itisso good of you to have come. I feel that this—this little accident is really my fault for having asked you here."
"Not at all, dear lady. It is the sort of little accident that might have happened to anybody, anywhere. If I can still be of assistance to you, pray inform me. Though my physical powers may not for the moment be quite what they were, I flatter myself that my mental capabilities are in no way diminished." He took another bite of his sandwich and wagged his head wisely at her.
"Let's come over here," said Hyacinth.
She moved across to an old stone seat in the wall, Udo following with the plate, and made room for him by her side. There is, of course, a way of indicating to a gentleman that he may sit next to you on the Chesterfield, and tell you what he has been doing in town lately, and there is also another way of patting the sofa for Fido to jump up and be-a-good-dog-and-lie-down-sir. Hyacinth achieved something very tactful in between, and Udo jumped up gracefully.
"Now we can talk," said Hyacinth. "You noticed that lady, the Countess Belvane, whom I presented to you?"
Udo nodded.
"What did you think of her?"
Udo was old enough to know what to say to that.
"I hardly looked at her," he said. And he added with a deep bow, "Naturally when your Royal Highness—oh, I beg your pardon, are my ears in your way?"
"It's all right," said Hyacinth, rearranging her hair. "Well, it was because of that woman that I sent for you."
"But I can't marry her like this, your Royal Highness."
Hyacinth turned a startled face towards him. Udo perceived that he had blundered. To hide his confusion he took another sandwich and ate it very quickly.
"I want your help against her," said Hyacinth, a little distantly; "she is plotting against me."
"Oh, your Royal Highness, now I see," said Udo, and he wagged his head as much as to say, "You've come to the right man this time."
[Illustration: "Now we can talk," said Hyacinth, verso][Illustration: "Now we can talk," said Hyacinth, recto]
"I don't trust her," said Hyacinth impressively.
"Well, now, Princess, I'm not surprised. I'll tell you something about that woman."
"Oh, what?"
"Well, when I was announced just now, what happened? You, yourself, Princess, were not unnaturally a little alarmed; those two little girls were surprised and excited; but what of this Countess Belvane? What didshedo?"
"Whatdidshe do?"
"Nothing," said Udo impressively. "She was neither surprised nor alarmed."
"Why, now I come to think of it, I don't believe she was."
"And yet," said Udo half pathetically, half proudly, "Princes don't generally look like this. Now, why wasn't she surprised?"
Hyacinth looked bewildered.
"Did she know you were sending for me?" Udo went on.
"Yes."
"Because you had found out something about her?"
"Yes."
"Then depend upon it,she'sdone it.Whata mind that woman must have!"
"But how could she do it?" exclaimed Hyacinth. "Of course it's just the sort of thing shewoulddo if she could."
Udo didn't answer. He was feeling rather annoyed with Belvane, and had got off his seat and was trotting up and down so as not to show his feelings before a lady.
"Howcouldshe do it?" implored Hyacinth.
"Oh, she's in with some enchanter or somebody," said Udo impatiently as he trotted past.
Suddenly he had an idea. He stopped in front of her.
"If only I weresureI was a lion."
He tried to roar, exclaimed hastily that it was only a practice one, and roared again. "No, I don't think I'm a lion after all," he admitted sadly.
"Well," said Hyacinth, "we must think of a plan."
"We must think of a plan," said Udo, and he came and sat meekly beside her again. He could conceal it from himself no longer that he was not a lion. The fact depressed him.
"I suppose I have been weak," went on Hyacinth, "but ever since the men went away she has been the ruling spirit of the country. I think she is plotting against me; Iknowshe is robbing me. I asked you here so that you could help me to find her out."
Udo nodded his head importantly.
"We must watch her," he announced.
"We must watch her," agreed Hyacinth. "It may take months——"
"Did you say months?" said Udo, turning to her excitedly.
"Yes, why?"
"Well, it's——" he gave a deprecating little cough. "I know it's very silly of me but—oh, well, let's hope it will be all right."
"Why, whatever is the matter?"
Udo was decidedly embarrassed. He wriggled. He drew little circles with his hind paw on the ground and he shot little coy glances at her.
"Well, I"—and he gave a little nervous giggle—"I have a sort of uneasy feeling that I may be one of those animals"—he gave another conscious little laugh—"that have to go to sleep all through the winter. It would be very annoying—if I"—his paw became very busy here—"if I had to dig a little hole in the ground, just when the plot was thickening."
"Oh, but you won't," said Hyacinth, in distress.
They were both silent for a moment, thinking of the awful possibilities. Udo's tail had fallen across Hyacinth's lap, and she began to play with it absently.
"Anyway," she said hopefully, "it's only July now."
"Ye—es," said Udo. "I suppose I should get—er—busy about November. We ought to find out something before then. First of all we'd better—— Oh!" He started up in dismay. "I've just had ahorriblethought. Don't I have to collect a little store of nuts and things?"
"Surely——"
"I should have to start that pretty soon," said Udo thoughtfully. "You know, I shouldn't be very handy at it. Climbing about after nuts," he went on dreamily, "what a life for a——"
"Oh, don't!" pleaded Hyacinth. "Surely only squirrels do that?"
"Yes—yes. Now, if I were a squirrel. I should—may I have my tail for a moment?"
"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Hyacinth, very much confused as she realised the liberty she had been taking, and she handed his tail back to him.
"Not at all," said Udo.
He took it firmly in his right hand. "Now then," he said, "we shall see. Watch this."
Sitting on his back legs he arched his tail over his head, and letting go of it suddenly, began to nibble at a sandwich held in his two front paws. . . .
A pretty picture for an artist.
But a bad model. The tail fell with a thud to the ground.
"There!" said Udo triumphantly. "That proves it. I'mnota squirrel."
"Oh, I'm so glad," said Hyacinth, completely convinced, as any one would have been, by this demonstration.
"Yes, well, that's all right then. Now we can make our plans. First of all we'd better——" He stopped suddenly, and Hyacinth saw that he was gazing at his tail.
"Yes?" she said encouragingly.
He picked up his tail and held it out in front of him. There was a large knot in the middle of it.
"Now,whathave I forgotten?" he said, rubbing his head thoughtfully.
Poor Hyacinth!
"Oh, dear Prince Udo, I'm so sorry. I'm afraid I did that without thinking."
Udo, the gallant gentleman, was not found wanting.
"A lover's knot," he said, with a graceful incli—no, he stopped in time. But really, those ears of his made ordinary politeness quite impossible.
"Oh, Udo," said Hyacinth impulsively, "if only I could help you to get back to your proper form again."
"Yes, if only," said Udo, becoming practical again; "but how are we going to do it? Just one more watercress sandwich," he said apologetically; "they go with the ears so well."
"I shall threaten the Countess," said Hyacinth excitedly. "I shall tell her that unless she makes the enchanter restore you to your proper form, I shall put her in prison."
Udo was not listening. He had gone off into his own thoughts. "Banana frittersandwatercress sandwiches," he was murmuring to himself. "I suppose I must be the only animal of the kind in the world."
"Of course," went on Hyacinth, half to herself, "she might get the people on her side, the ones that she's bribed. And if she did——"
"That's all right, that's all right," said Udo grandly. "Leave her to me. There's something about your watercress that inspires me to do terrible deeds. I feel a new—whatever I am."
One gathers reluctantly from this speech that Udo had partaken too freely.
"Of course," said Hyacinth, "I could write to my father, who might send some of his men back, but I shouldn't like to do that. I shouldn't like him to think that I had failed him."
"Extraordinary how I take to these things," said Udo, allowing himself a little more room on the seat. "Perhaps I am a rabbit after all. I wonder what I should look like behind wire netting." He took another bite and went on, "I wonder what I should do if I saw a ferret. I suppose you haven't got a ferret on you, Princess?"
"I beg your pardon, Prince? I'm afraid I was thinking of something else. What did you say?"
"Nothing, nothing. One's thoughts run on." He put his hand out for the plate, and discovered that it was empty. He settled himself more comfortably, and seemed to be about to sink into slumber when his attention was attracted suddenly by the knot in his tail. He picked it up and began lazily to undo it. "I wish I could lash my tail," he murmured; "mine seems to be one of the tails that don't lash." He began very gingerly to feel the tip of it. "I wonder if I've got a sting anywhere." He closed his eyes, muttering, "Sting Countess neck, sting all over neck, sting lots stings," and fell peacefully asleep.
It was a disgraceful exhibition. Roger Scurvilegs tries to slur it over; talks about the great heat of the sun, and the notorious effect of even one or two watercress sandwiches on an empty—on a man who has had nothing to eat for several days. This is to palter with the facts. The effect of watercress sandwiches upon Udo's arrangements (however furnished) we have all just seen for ourselves; but what Roger neglects to lay stress upon is the fact that it was the effect of twenty-one or twenty-two watercress sandwiches. There is no denying that it was a disgraceful exhibition. If I had been there, I should certainly have written to his father about it.
Hyacinth looked at him uneasily. Her first feeling was one of sympathy. "Poor fellow," she thought, "he's had a hard time lately." But it is a strain on the sympathy to gaze too long on a mixture of lion, rabbit, and woolly lamb, particularly when the rabbit part has its mouth open and is snoring gently.
Besides, what could she do with him? She had two of them on her hands now: the Countess and the Prince. Belvane was in an even better position than before. She could now employ Udo to help her in her plots against the Princess. "Grant to me so and so, or I'll keep the enchantment for ever on his Royal Highness." And what could a poor girl do?
Well, she would have to come to some decision in the future. Meanwhile the difficulties of the moment were enough. The most obvious difficulty was his bedroom. Was it quite the sort of room he wanted now? Hyacinth realised suddenly that to be hostess to such a collection of animals as Udo was would require all the tact she possessed. Perhaps he would tell her what he wanted when he woke up. Better let him sleep peacefully now.
She looked at him, smiled in spite of herself, and went quickly down into the Palace.