"Shiraz the Rug-Merchant."Outside the Gate of Wanderers, six hundred Paces to the Right, along the Wall."Thee shall know his Shop by certain Numbers, to wit: 3101310."If he Hide himself, say these words: Shagli Jamshid Shahriman."Thee shall buy of his Wares; not that which he shall offer First, nor Second; but that which he shall offer Third, that thee shall Buy; and for that thee shall Pay whatever he shall Demand."Thereafter thee shall do whatever he shall Direct."But enter not into the City but by the Shop of Shiraz the Rug-Merchant."
"Shiraz the Rug-Merchant.
"Outside the Gate of Wanderers, six hundred Paces to the Right, along the Wall.
"Thee shall know his Shop by certain Numbers, to wit: 3101310.
"If he Hide himself, say these words: Shagli Jamshid Shahriman.
"Thee shall buy of his Wares; not that which he shall offer First, nor Second; but that which he shall offer Third, that thee shall Buy; and for that thee shall Pay whatever he shall Demand.
"Thereafter thee shall do whatever he shall Direct.
"But enter not into the City but by the Shop of Shiraz the Rug-Merchant."
There was silence for a moment, then Aunt Amanda said:
"That's the way we are to get those wonderful things the map speaks of. It doesn't seem to tell us much, though. Where do you suppose is this Gate of Wanderers?"
"That, dear madam," said the Third Vice-President, "is one of the gates of our City of Towers. We know it very well, of course."
"Then," said Aunt Amanda, "as captain of my party, my orders is that we go there at once."
"Much good would that do," said Toby. "We've got to buy something of this here Shiraz, if that's his name, and pay anything he asks, too. And there ain't a penny amongst us. How could we buy anything?"
"The pirates' treasure!" cried Freddie. "The pirates' treasure in the cave!"
"By crackey!" said Toby. "I clean forgot all about it. Good for you, Freddie! Talk about money to buy things with! We'll buy out that old Shiraz's whole shop! The treasure belongs to us, as sure as you're born. By crickets, we're in luck."
"If you will pardon me," said the Third Vice-President,"we know nothing of any treasure, and if you would be so good as to——"
"I will," said Aunt Amanda, and she quickly explained the whole matter. The Daft Committee, including its Chairman, was much impressed.
"We do not wish to intrude," said the Chairman, "but if we could be of any service——"
"Of course!" cried Toby. "You've got to help us get the treasure out of the cave, and then help us to find the City of Towers. And if you'll help us, why what I say is, the Committee ought to have a share of the treasure. Is that right?"
Toby's friends willingly agreed, and the Committee gladly consented to go with them to the Treasure Cave and then to the City of Towers.
"The Society for Piratical Research," said the Third Vice-President, "is coming back to life! We now have a Museum with one Exhibit, and we are about to acquire a Fund of Money. Come, my friends, it is time to depart. If you will go out first, I will remain and blow out the candles. We must remember to close the door behind us, for a draught of air would probably blow the late Mr. Matthew Speak out of the window."
In a few moments the whole party was standing in the moonlight on the grass before the deserted tower of Low Dudgeon. Not quite deserted, however; in every mind was a picture of a misty and vapory form, remotely in the shape of a man, sitting motionless in a chair beside a table in a dark and silent room.
"All right," said Toby, "now for the Treasure Cave and the City of Towers."
At the Pirates' Cave, the task of getting out the treasure proved very difficult, but it was done at last.
The Committee's camp in the forest had supplied abundance of provisions, and a great number of animals; the Committee traveled in luxury.
On the level ground where Mr. Hanlon had given his exhibition of head-work, the toilers were now resting in the hot sun, and drying their garments, thoroughly soaked by their trips in and out of the cave, under the water-fall. They looked with intense delight on the boxes and bags which lay before them.
"What I say is," said Toby, "let's divide the treasure now, so we won't have to bother about it when we get to the City of Towers."
"How beautiful is nature!" said the Sly Old Codger. "Behold that wide expanse of field and forest resting so—so—expansively beneath the orb of day! A true, true work of nature! At such a moment as this, dear friends, a warm feeling invades my heart, a feeling of—of—Did I hear a suggestion to divide the treasure?"
The division was carefully made, and when it was done, and each person had declared himself well satisfied, each share was packed separately, and the treasure loaded on the backs of the extra mules. It was a princely fortune.
"Do you suppose," said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg, "that—er—I shall be able to obtain, inthe City of Towers, such a thing as a pipeful—ahem!—a pipeful of tobacco?"
"Never fear," said the Third Vice-President. "I fancy you will be able to buy there all the tobacco you can use."
"Wery sorry I am to 'ear it," said Mr. Punch. "Hi regard the tobacco 'abit as a wery reprehensible 'abit. Wery."
"Oh, you do!" said Toby, glaring at him.
"Wery reprehensible indeed," went on Mr. Punch, calmly. "My conscience 'as troubled me for a long time by reason of my position in the tobacco trade. Being posted, as one may s'y, in a wery hadwantageous position for hobserwation, I 'ave seen too much, entirely too much, of the sad effects of the hobnoxious weed. Many a time 'ave I wept to myself, when the hobserver may 'ave thought it was only rain on me cheek, to see 'em, young and hold, going in and hout of Toby Littleback's shop, knowing what would come of it sooner or later, and me a-standing there hencouraging of 'em in, as one may s'y, with me packet of cigars in me 'and. Hoften enough 'ave I wished to give it hup and embark in a hoccupation less reprehensible; many a time 'ave I said to myself, 'Ho, hif I could only be hinnocent once, just once.' And now Hi shall put be'ind me hall the d'ys of me sinful past, and with my share of the treasure Hi shall open a shop for the purveying of tripe."
"There's a deal more harm been done by tripe than ever there was by tobacco," said Toby.
"There is a total absence of nicotine in tripe," said Mr. Punch, loftily. "At least, such is my hinformation. And I carn't 'elp 'oping that my friend Littleback will reform hisself, now that 'e can afford it, and engage in some pursuit less 'armful to the young. Hif I was arsked, I would suggest pinking and pleating."
"You ain't been asked," said Toby. "I can seemyself pinking and pleating. When I want advice what to do with my money, I'll ask you. Tobacco is my line, and tobacco is going to be my line to the end of the chapter, and that's flat. Pinking and pleating! Humph."
"It's my belief," said the Churchwarden, "after listening to what's been said, pro and con, backwards and forwards, up and down, that if we don't start for the City of Towers, we'll never get there."
"And what's more," said Toby, "when I get back I'm going to have anIndianoutside my door, instead of a tripe-seller."
"Excuse me," said the Third Vice-President. "I am sorry to interrupt this interesting discussion, but we really ought to be going. Gentlemen," to the Committee, "our steeds are waiting. To the City of Towers!"
The journey which now commenced proved to be a very long one. Day after day the pilgrims plodded through a wilderness of forest and field, over streams, across mountains, down into deep valleys and up again, camping at night wherever they happened to find water and wood, and sleeping under the stars in blankets on beds of boughs. The moon was gone before their journey was over.
One morning the trail brought them down on a mountain-side to a well-paved road. This road they followed for some hours, and it brought them finally to the top of a gentle hill, covered with trees. From the top of this hill they saw a striking scene.
Stretching away from the foot of the hill lay a great rolling valley, up which the road ran as straight as a ribbon. Far away, at the end of the road, against a dark wooded mountain, stood a great city, walled around with a high wall, and shining in the sun with white and gold domes and turrets and towers. The rear of the city rose along the lower slope of the mountain,and on the top of the mountain, concealing its peak, lay a cloud; black below, and glittering with sunlight at the edges. It hung there motionless during the time when the watchers sat watching the scene. Directly under the cloud, on the slope where the farthest portion of the city lay, was an open space among the buildings, like a great garden or park, and in the midst of it a vast white building with a flat roof, great enough for the palace of a king. That which struck the strangers most, at their first look, was the great number of towers which rose at all points in the city; surely so many towers had never been gotten together in one place before; and the most remarkable one of them was the tower which rose from just behind the great white building in the park. It was dull in colour, and doubtless of brick; it was round in shape, tapering gradually upwards. It rose to a height which none of the strangers would have thought possible, had they not seen it with their own eyes; it rose straight to the cloud which hung motionless upon the mountain; it pierced the cloud, and its top was lost to view in the cloud or above it.
"The City of Towers!" said the Third Vice-President, waving his arm in that direction. "The Gate of Wanderers is before us, at the end of the road."
The party urged their animals forward down the hill-side, and pressed on until noon, when they halted for rest and refreshment in a wood beside the road. There they sat at their ease on the grass, and the Third Vice-President looked from one to another, and spoke as follows:
"My friends, I must tell you the story of the Towers. Our King, you must know, is a handsome and amiable man, in appearance about thirty years of age. When I tell you that he has been our king for more than forty years, you will be surprised. His wife was a princess of some few years less than his own, and ofa beauty unequalled in the kingdom. Her wedding ring, the gift of her husband, was a single ruby in a plain gold band, and this ring she was never known to remove from her wedding-finger for a single moment. She was blessed with three beautiful children, two boys and a girl, the oldest of whom was nearly nine years of age.
"When the prince, our present King, was thirty years old, his father the King, who was then alive, gave a great ball at the palace, and at this ball the old King declared to the assembled court that he desired to build a tower; a mighty tower, higher than any other in the world, where he might seek repose from time to time; a tower so tall that it would reach the cloud that hangs perpetually on the mountain. To him who should build such a tower in the shortest time the King would give any reward which the fortunate bidder might ask. The old King laughed as he made his offer, and it was plain that he was only half serious; but many of the richest of his nobility desired the prize, and contended for it earnestly. One proposed to erect the tower in ten years, another in eight, and one was found who was willing to promise it in six years and a half; but these terms were all too long. The King was old, and he would not wait so long.
"'Is there no one,' said the old King at last, 'who will build me my tower in less than six years and a half?'
"'I will build it in one night,' said a voice from the rear of the ball-room.
"An old man came forward and stood before the King; an old man, dressed in a short gown tied in with a cord about the middle, with sandals on his feet, a lantern with a lighted candle in one hand, and a staff in the other. No one in that place had ever seen him before, and no one knew how he had gotten in amongst that glittering company.
"'I will build your tower in one night,' said the old man.
"The old King laughed outright, but he accepted the offer then and there. 'In the morning,' said he, 'if we find the tower finished, you shall have any gift which may be in my power to give.'
"The old man bowed, and made his way slowly out of the palace. A great shout of laughter went up from the company, and in this the King himself joined heartily; but the joke was, as I must tell you, my friends, that in the morning when the King rose, there stood the tower in fact, behind the palace, so tall that its top could not be seen in the cloud that hung upon the mountain; and there, my friends, the tower stands to this day.
"That evening the old man returned for his reward. He stood before the King, and on the King's right and left stood the prince and the prince's wife and children. The King asked the old man what reward he desired.
"'I ask nothing,' replied the other, with a sly smile, 'except the ruby ring upon the finger of the Princess.'
"The Princess turned pale, and hid her hand behind her. She would not give up her wedding-ring; nothing the King could say could move her. He offered the old man anything else he might demand; a dozen ruby rings; a box of ruby rings; anything; but the old man would have nothing but the ring upon the Princess's finger. The Princess grew paler still, as if with fear; but she would not give up the ring. The old man smiled his sly smile again, and went away.
"The next morning the Princess and her three children were gone. Search was made everywhere, but they were not to be found. The King and the Prince, mounting the winding stair of the tower, stopped at last when they were all but exhausted, and at that moment heard a sound of weeping from above. They climbed higher, and on the stair they found the childrensitting, huddled together and weeping bitterly. Their mother was gone, they knew not where; and they did not know how they came to be in the tower. The strongest climbers in the city mounted as far as they could ascend, but the top of the tower was far beyond their reach; they found no Princess. She has never been seen from that day.
"Soon after, the old King died, and his son came to the throne. As for him, our present King, and his three children, time stopped for them from the day on which the Princess disappeared. They are no older now than when she left them. It is supposed that they are awaiting her return unchanged, in order that she may not find them old on her return, if she should still be young. There are those who say that she has lived all these years, and still lives, somewhere, in some strange form, perhaps far from here, bewitched by the old man, and waiting for release from her enchantment. I do not know."
"And what was her name?" said Aunt Amanda.
"She was named," said the Third Vice-President, "the Princess Miranda."
"And what are all those other towers in the city?" said Aunt Amanda.
"It was the fashion, after the King's Tower was built, to build towers. The King, as you may suppose, sets the fashion in all things. But no more pleasure-towers are built nowadays; the thing had its day, and died out. There is a fashion now in pleasure-domes. They are modeled after the pleasure-dome built by Kubla Khan in Xanadu."
"Well," said Toby, "I don't see what we've got to do with all this. The party I want to see is Shiraz the Rug-Merchant."
The wayfarers came to a halt before the Wanderers' Gate. The wall of the city stood before them, and stretched away to a great distance on either hand. People were going in and out at the gate; some on foot, driving donkeys before them, some on horseback, some in wagons, and all brisk and talkative. The Third Vice-President received a respectful greeting from several of those on horseback. He turned to his companions with a wave of the hand, and said:
"The Wanderers' Bazaar!"
On each side of the open gate, at the foot of the high thick wall, was what appeared to be a fair. As far as the eye could see, the base of the wall was lined with booths, each with an awning over it from the wall behind, gaily striped in orange and blue and yellow and brown. In these booths was spread out in disorderly profusion a mass of merchandise of all kinds; gold and silver ornaments, brass and copper vessels, rugs and carpets, spectacles and clocks, toys and games, herbs and ointments, fish-nets and sailors' instruments, canes and crutches, ribbons and laces, perfumery, precious stones—things innumerable; even parrots and monkeys, in cages; in one booth was a potter, twirling his potter's wheel; in another a fortune-teller, laying little sticks down in curious patterns on his table; in another a man pasting on cards bits of coloured feathers, in the form of tiny birds and fowls, most life-like;in another a glass-blower, delicately twining a thread of spun glass for the rigging of a ship; in another a man sitting on a rug with a snake before him, whose flat head stood stiffly up from his coil, and waved a little to the motion of his master's finger; in another, a man was bending over a flower-pot with a wand in his hand, and as he moved the wand a stalk grew from the pot and at its end a bud appeared and unfolded into a flower before the very eyes of his audience; in another a great ape was marking down figures with chalk as his master called them; in another a shuttle was weaving back and forth in a loom; there seemed to be no end to the curious and diverting things to be seen in those booths. The people in them were apparently of all the nations of the earth; there were brown men and yellow men and black men, as well as white; men with slant eyes, with round eyes, with flat noses, with beak-noses, with wooly hair, with straight hair; there were turbans, and fezzes, and hoods, and white gowns, and coloured robes, and velvet jackets, and cotton blouses; and from all the venders rose such a hubbub as Freddie had never in his life heard before, except once in the Gaunt Street Theatre at home. A lively crowd chaffered with the venders and walked in the paved street before their booths. It was a scene full of life and colour, and Freddie was transported with delight.
"Oh!" he said, "can't we get down here and see all those sights? I should like to spend the whole day here!"
"We've got other fish to fry just now, Freddie," said Toby. "We'll have to see this some other time."
"It is a precious thought," said the Sly Old Fox, "that we have here with us on our mules enough treasure to buy this whole bazaar, if we wished to do it. It is a beautiful thought."
"Six 'undred paces to the right!" said Mr. Punch.
"Shiraz the Rug-Merchant!" said Toby. "By the looks of it, there must be about five hundred rug-merchants along there."
"What was the number we were to find him by?" said Aunt Amanda.
"It's 3103101," said Toby.
"You are quite mistaken," said Mr. Punch. "Hit's 3013101."
"That's exactly what I said," said Toby.
"Excuse me," said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg, "it seems to me that it is—er—3101301."
"My recollection is," said the Churchwarden, "that it is 3031010."
"I am sorry to differ," said the Sly Old Codger, "but I am perfectly sure it is 3013010."
"Why don't you look at the paper?" said Aunt Amanda, in an exasperated tone.
Everyone looked at everyone else to produce the paper, but no one produced it.
"I regret to confess it," said the Third Vice-President, placidly, "but I have a distinct recollection of having left it on the table at Low Dudgeon. Never mind, it is perfectly safe."
"Well!" said Aunt Amanda. "Isn't that a perfect shame! Whatever are we going to do? And where's the map? Freddie, have you got the map?"
Freddie looked in all his pockets. "No'm," said he. "It isn't here."
"I recall distinctly," said the Third Vice-President, without any sign of worry, "that the map was left on the table at Low Dudgeon with the other paper."
"Merciful fathers!" exclaimed Aunt Amanda. "And you've left the map behind too! I never yet see a man that had a head on him worth a—Now listen to me; is there anyone that remembers the words the paper said we had to say to the——"
"Ah! madam," said the Third Vice-President."There I can be of assistance, I fancy. The words are derived from the Persian, and I am accordingly familiar with them. 'Shagli Jamshid Shahriman.' Am I right, gentlemen?"
The Daft Committee nodded their heads in assent.
"Then I see no reason," said the Third Vice-President, "why we should not proceed."
"Come on then," said Toby. "I'll get down and pace off the six hundred steps, and see where we come to."
The party moved slowly through the crowd, along the booths, while Toby walked beside them, carefully counting his steps.
"Five hundred and eighty," said he. "Five hundred and ninety. Ninety-five. Six hundred"; and stopped. The procession stopped also, and all of the riders got down from their mules. Many of the passers-by gazed curiously at them, and some paused for a moment before going on; but no one seemed to take more than a passing interest. One of the Committee led the mules to the open side of the street, where they would be out of the way, and stood guard over them. The others joined Toby in front of the booth at which he was now standing.
It was not the kind of booth they were seeking at all. There were no rugs nor carpets of any kind; only clocks and watches, a great number of them, and a few sundials and hour-glasses. Behind the counter stood a lad of about twenty, very dark of skin, with snapping black eyes and shining white teeth which showed as he now bowed and smiled; a white turban on his head, and a loose white robe hanging from his shoulders. He was slim and sleek, and his fingers were very long and delicate. He rubbed his hands together as the riders dismounted, and commenced to chatter to them in an unknown tongue, bowing and smiling the while. His wares were displayed about him on shelvesand boxes and tables, as well as on the counter, and the clocks and watches, as usual in such places, showed all hours of the twelve. A striped awning of orange and blue, fastened at the rear to the side of the city wall, shielded him and his booth from the sun. Behind him in the wall was a closed iron door.
"We're in the wrong shop," said Toby to his companions. "Some mistake. Anyway, here goes." And addressing the young man behind the counter, he said: "Good-afternoon. We are looking for Mr. Shiraz the Rug-Merchant. This don't look much like a rug shop, but maybe you can tell us. Shiraz; that's his name."
"No understand," said the young man, rubbing his hands and bowing pleasantly.
"Shiraz," said Toby. "Think. Shiraz. Easy word, Shiraz. You understand?"
"Clocks and watches," said the young man. "Sundials. You buy?"
"No, no," said Toby. "We no buy. Want Shiraz. Confound it, that's an easy word, ain't it? Shiraz! Can't you understand that?"
"No sell Shiraz," said the young man. "Clocks and watches."
"Look here," said Toby, "what's the number of this place?"
"No number," said the young man, looking puzzled and shaking his head. "Clocks and watches."
"By crackey," said Toby, "we're in the wrong place sure enough."
Now while this talk was going on, Freddie had made a discovery. He had noticed, on a box at the rear, against the wall, a row of seven old clocks. They were battered and broken, and were evidently long since out of repair; two of them had no hands. Like most of the clocks in the place, they were stopped, and had probably, from the looks of them, ceased many yearsbefore to keep time. He noted idly the time shown by each of these clocks, and started in surprise. The hour shown by the first clock at the left was three o'clock. That shown by the next was one o'clock. The next had no hands, and showed no time at all. The next showed one o'clock, the next three o'clock, the next one o'clock, and the seventh had no hands. He ran his eye over them again, and the numbers which resulted were 3101310.
"Come along," said Toby. "We might as well ask at some of these other shops. There ain't no use wasting time here."
He moved away, and the others followed him towards the adjoining booth. The teeth of the dark young man shone white, and he bowed politely to the departing strangers.
Freddie pulled at Toby's coat, and whispered in his ear. Toby listened, and without a word led the party back to the booth.
"Now see here, young feller," said he, "I've got your number, and I don't want no nonsense. I reckon you can understand numbers, if you can't understand anything else." He fixed his eyes on the row of old clocks at the rear. "Listen to this, my young friend: 3-1-0-1-3-1-0."
The smile left the young man's face. He seemed a trifle uneasy. His long fingers rested on the counter, and he leaned forward intently.
"No understand," said he.
"By crackey," said Toby, "this beats all. Where's Shiraz? We're in the right place, and we want Shiraz. Out with him!"
"Clocks and watches," said the young man, but this time somewhat nervously. "You buy?"
"Buy nothing!" cried Toby. "We want to see Shiraz the Rug-Merchant. Professor," said he, turninground, "what's the words to bring out Shiraz the Rug-Merchant?"
"Shagli Jamshid Shahriman!" said the Third Vice-President, in a loud voice.
Instantly the manner of the young man changed. Crossing his arms upon his breast, he made a low salaam, and spoke with the utmost deference.
"I trust you will pardon," said he, "my seeming lack of courtesy. It is necessary to exercise a certain caution. There are wicked spirits, assuming from time to time the most unlikely forms, who seek to gain access to my great-great-grandfather. His life is continually in danger, for he possesses secrets which enable him constantly to interfere with their designs. By reason of this danger, he was obliged many years ago to retire from the rug business, and he has lived ever since in deep seclusion. It is your wish to see Shiraz the Persian?"
"You seem to speak English pretty good," said Toby.
"Perfectly, my lord. And twelve other tongues as well. You desire to see my great-great-grandfather?"
"That's the exact idea," said Toby.
"Then I will beg your indulgence for a few moments."
The young man bowed again, and disappeared through the doorway in the wall, closing the door behind him. After a considerable absence he returned.
"If you will follow me," said he, "I will conduct you to my great-great-grandfather."
"We will await your return here," said the Third Vice-President to Toby and his companions. "It is unnecessary for us to pursue this adventure further."
The Third Vice-President and his friends returned to the mules, and the others followed the young man to the door behind him in the wall. The door was closed and locked behind them, and they found themselvesin darkness. "If you will come to me here," said the voice of the young man, a little in advance, "I will show you the way down." When they felt themselves near him, they heard his voice again. "Be good enough to step carefully forward, until you feel the first step of a descending stair. Then descend cautiously, if you please." Each one put out a foot, and in a moment they were all going down a stairway, of which the treads were evidently of stone, much worn.
When they had gone down some thirty steps, they were aware that the stair had ended, and that they were on a landing. "You will now cross the bridge, one by one, holding on to the railing," said the voice of the young man. One by one the party stepped forward, feeling the way cautiously, and as each in turn found with his hand a slight wooden railing, a breath of fresh air blew upon his face and the sound of rushing water came from below. Instead of the firm stone they had just been treading, they were conscious of wooden planking under their feet, and it gave beneath their pressure most uneasily. The bridge was a long one, and the sound of rushing water followed them its entire length. They walked again, however, on firm ground, and heard the young man's voice before them. "Be good enough to follow the right hand wall," it said, "and turn with the wall."
Each right hand touched the surface of a wall, and in a moment the wall made a turning to the right. In another moment their progress was barred by a wall in advance, and the voice of the young man spoke from their midst. "You will kindly stoop as you go in," said he, and at the same moment a round opening appeared before them, dimly lit from within. It was only large enough to admit a single person, stooping. The young man entered first, and the others followed, one by one. When they were all on the other side ofthe door, the young man swung it noiselessly to, on its hinges, and it was seen that it fitted accurately, so that it was impossible to distinguish it from the wall.
They were in a small room, unfurnished except for a table in the center, on which burned an oil lamp of silver, in shape like a boat; the walls were bare, except for certain shelves containing bottles of coloured liquids, other bottles of coloured powders, mortars, retorts, gas-burners, and huge dusty books. There appeared to be no outlet from the room, but the young man pressed his finger on a spot behind one of the bottles on a shelf, and a circular door, like the one by which they had entered, swung slowly open in the opposite wall.
"We have arrived," said the young man. "Please to follow."
He stooped and entered the circular doorway, and the others, one by one, followed. They found themselves in a rich and luxurious apartment, softly lighted by a hanging lamp; in the center was a table, littered with open books and scrolls of paper, and bearing notably a great round globe of solid crystal.
Beside the table, on a divan, reclined what appeared to be a dry and shriveled mummy.
"This is my great-great-grandfather," said the young man.
The room in which they stood was hung about on all the walls with rare and beautiful rugs, and similar rugs covered the floor. Richly embroidered cushions and delicate silk and cashmere shawls lay on the few easy chairs that were disposed about the room. The bowl of the hanging lamp, above the table, was of bits of amber and orange and ruby glass, through which shone a subdued and mellow light. Near the ceiling were three or four small openings, covered with iron gratings, and the air in the apartment was pure, except for the odour of tobacco. The figure on the divan was smoking a pipe; a water-pipe, whose long flexible stem reached to the floor, where its bowl rested.
Shiraz the Rug-Merchant looked at his visitors with little beady black eyes. His skin was very dark, and shriveled and wrinkled like the skin of a dried apple. His cheek-bones seemed as if about to break through his cheeks, and his lips were stretched back from his teeth, which were black and broken. His hands were like the claws of a bird. Thin white hair straggled over his tight dark scalp. He wore a robe of some soft material, harmoniously mottled upon a ground of maroon, and on his feet were slippers of red morocco, pointed upwards at the toes. His turban lay upon the table beside him.
Shiraz the Rug-Merchant looked at his visitors with little beady black eyes.Shiraz the Rug-Merchant looked at his visitors with little beady black eyes.
Shiraz the Rug-Merchant looked at his visitors with little beady black eyes.
He was the smallest man the strangers had ever seen. After a searching look at them with his beady eyes, he rose from the divan, laid down the stem of his pipe, and stood up. He was not taller than Freddie. As he stood by the divan, looking up at his visitors, he seemed indeed a mere mummy of a man, likely to fall to pieces at a breath of air.
"You are welcome," he said, in a voice surprisingly strong. "I perceive that you have come from a great distance. Permit me to inquire what errand has brought you to your servant's poor habitation."
"I reckon we want to buy something," said Toby. "I don't know what, exactly, but a chap by the name of Higginson, Captain Reuben Higginson, he give us the direction, as you might say."
"Ah, yes," said Shiraz the Persian. "I remember him very well. I was sorry to learn of his misfortune. An excellent man; a member of some strange sect——"
"A Quaker," said Toby. "The paper he left said we might buy something here, and here we are, ready to buy."
"I have long since retired from the rug business," said Shiraz, "but I have brought with me here, as you may see, some of my choicest treasures, as a slight solace in my seclusion." He glanced towards the rugs on the walls. "I am reluctant to part with any of them, but I am willing to make an exception, in view of your having made so long a journey to see me. My son," said he to the young man, "bring hither the Omar prayer-rug."
The young man took from one of the walls a small rug, and laid it at the feet of Shiraz.
"You will immediately perceive," said the Persian, "the extreme beauty of this rug. It is one of my rarest treasures. It is a prayer-rug from the mosque of Omar at Isfahan; a Kalicheh of cut-pile fabric, with the Sehna knot, as I need not tell you; made in Kurdistan threehundred years ago; observe, if you please, the delicacy of the design and the harmony of the colouring. Its possession is as a spring of water to the desert Bedouin; as a palm with dates on the road to Mecca; as a word to the believer from the mouth of the Prophet. Its price, to those who have journeyed across the sea to buy it, is twelve copper pennies."
The Sly Old Fox stooped down and examined it. His eyes lit up with pleasure. "Beautiful!" said he. "I have never seen a rug more beautiful; it is a real work of—of—I will take it. At twelve pennies. It is mine."
"No, no!" said Aunt Amanda. "You'll do nothing of the kind. It is certainly the finest piece of carpet I have ever seen, and the price is low enough, in all conscience. But we are not going to buy it. I am sorry, sir, but we can't buy your rug. Show us something else."
Shiraz displayed his teeth more plainly than ever in a sly smile.
"Your servant is desolated," he replied. "I crave your pardon for showing a trifle so far beneath your notice. My son, take it away. If your excellencies will deign to overlook my error, I will produce an article more worthy of your attention. This time I promise myself the ecstasy of your approval."
"Pretty good line of talk," whispered Toby in Mr. Punch's ear.
"My son," continued Shiraz, "bring hither the Wishing Rug."
The young man took away the prayer-rug, and brought another from the wall; a much larger one, large enough, indeed, for twenty people to stand on. It was dingy and frayed, and in no way beautiful like the other.
"A rug of the Tomb of Rustam," said Shiraz, "gained by the hero in battle from the genie Akhnavid.It is the last of the Wishing Rugs. Its property is, that it will transport to the farthest regions of the earth, in the twinkling of an eye, those who sit upon it and but name aloud the place of their desire. Excellencies," he said, addressing his visitors very earnestly, "if it is your wish to return home, the moment has arrived; you have only to sit upon this rug and wish yourselves at home, and you will find yourselves there, safe and sound, before the words shall have well left your lips. And the price is only twenty pennies."
Every one of the party hesitated. A vision of the Old Tobacco Shop entered each mind. It had never seemed so cozy, so quiet, so secure as at that moment. How or when they would ever get there, in the natural course of events, no one knew. If they did not seize this opportunity, they might be lost forever. It was a chance such as they could scarcely have hoped for.
"Could we take our belongings with us?" said the Sly Old Fox.
"All that can be piled on the rug," said Shiraz.
"Then I will buy it," said the Sly Old Codger. "I do not consider twenty pennies too much for such a rug. The rug is mine."
"It's nothing of the sort," said Aunt Amanda, waking from deep thought. "Nobody's going to buy the rug. I'm captain of this expedition, and my orders is, to wait and see what's going to happen next. I'm sorry, sir, but the rug ain't exactly what we want. You must show us something else."
The Rug-Merchant appeared greatly mortified. "I do not know how I could have made such a mistake," he said. "I should have known that these little trifles could not interest you. I trust you will believe that I meant no offense. I fear there is nothing in my poor collection which merits your notice. Permit me to wish you a safe journey. Do you intend to remain long in the City of Towers?"
"That won't do," said Toby. "You must show us something else."
The Rug-Merchant looked intently at Aunt Amanda. "You command it?" said he.
"I do," said she.
"To hear is to obey," said Shiraz. "I tremble to think how contemptible are the baubles I shall now offer you, but I trust you will not be angry with your servant." He turned to the young man, and spoke to him in an unknown tongue. "Be not offended, excellencies," he went on, "by your poor servant's ignorance in the art of pleasing."
The young man disappeared behind one of the hanging rugs, and in a moment returned with certain small objects, which he stood upon the table in a row. They were eight hour-glasses, of a very ordinary kind, much like those already seen in the booth outside. The sand in each one was wholly in the upper glass, and was just beginning to trickle down into the lower. The strangers were obviously disappointed.
"I fear your displeasure," said Shiraz, "but apart from my trifling rugs, these are all I have to offer."
"And what," said the Sly Old Fox, "what may be the price of these interesting objects?"
"The price," said Shiraz, fixing his beady eyes on Aunt Amanda, "the price is this and nothing less: your treasure on the mules outside; your share of the treasure on the mules."
Everyone gasped. The treasure which they had gone through so many perils to secure, for these indifferent trinkets! A life of ease and plenty for an hour-glass!
"Ahem!" said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg. "Excuse me for saying it, but the—er—price appears to be a little bit high."
"It is too high for me," said the Sly Old Fox, positively. "I regret to say it, but I am compelled to withdraw;I cannot go on at such a figure. Please consider me out of it."
"And—er—me too," said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg.
"Well," said Toby, doubtfully, "it's a blamed hard thing to give up all that treasure for one of these here little toys. I don't see my way clear to doing it. What do you say, Aunt Amanda?"
"I'll do it," said Aunt Amanda, looking at Shiraz, whose eyes were still on her. "I've come all this way to do it, and I'll do it. I ain't going to back out now at the last minute. My mind's made up. Mr. Shiraz, I'll buy an hour-glass."
"By crackey," said Toby, "then I will too. What about you, Freddie?"
"Oh, yes, indeed," said Freddie.
"Hi'll 'ave one myself," said Mr. Punch.
"After due consideration," said the Churchwarden, "I think I will buy one also."
Mr. Hanlon nodded a vigorous assent.
The two Old Codgers, however, were firm in their refusal. They could not be persuaded. They retired from the enterprise then and there.
Under the conduct of the young man, the two Old Codgers left the room, and returned to the Committee who were waiting with the mules outside; and with them went Toby and Mr. Punch and Mr. Hanlon, to bring back that portion of the treasure which was to pay for the six hour-glasses.
This was a work of much difficulty, and occupied a great deal of time. While it was going on, the Rug-Merchant, having first asked permission, reclined again on the divan and resumed his pipe, while Aunt Amanda, Freddie, and the Churchwarden seated themselves, at his invitation, and watched him in silence.
The treasure was at length piled, complete, in a corner of the room. Toby, Mr. Punch, and Mr. Hanlonreturned for the last time, and without the great-great-grandson of the Rug-Merchant.
"The others will wait outside for an hour," said Toby. "If we don't come back by that time, they'll go on into the city without us."
Shiraz the Rug-Merchant laid down the stem of his pipe, and rising bowed to Aunt Amanda with great deference.
"Permit me, most gracious lady," said he, "to see the fingers of your left hand."
He took in his own right hand the third finger of Aunt Amanda's left, and bent his eyes close over it. He straightened himself up with a long breath, and crossing his arms upon his breast, made a low salaam.
"It is as I thought," said he. "The mark is here, on the third finger of the left hand. Highness," said he, bowing lower, "I pray you accept your servant's salutation on your return." And raising her hand to his lips, he kissed it in a very courtly manner.
"Goodness alive!" said Aunt Amanda, turning as red as a rose, "you make me feel too foolish for anything."
"You have been away a long time," said Shiraz, "but you have returned. Happy am I to be the first to greet you on your return. You and the others have all been enchanted. You are six enchanted souls, and in your present shapes not one of you is himself. I suppose you do not know that you are enchanted; you think that you are yourselves; is it not so? I assure you it is a mistake; but I can put you in the way of correcting your errors, and restoring yourselves to your true shapes, if you desire it. Madam," said he, bowing again to Aunt Amanda, "I await your commands."
"I reckon we all want to be corrected," said Aunt Amanda. "It's what we've come here for. We've come a long way to this island, and for nothing onearth but to be corrected, if there's any way to do it. If you can do it, go ahead."
"Hearing is obedience," said Shiraz. "Please to take the hour-glasses."
Each one took up an hour-glass from the table and held it in his hand.
"It is necessary," said Shiraz, "to destroy the sands in the glasses. If they can be destroyed, the enchantment will be over. There is no power on earth which can destroy the sands but one, and that is the White Fire of the Preserver. Will you risk the fire?"
"I will," said Aunt Amanda, now somewhat pale; and the others nodded assent.
"Then I will give you the White Robes," said Shiraz. "Without them you can not withstand the Fire."
He went to a wall and drew from behind the hangings a box, which he opened on the table. From this box he took six white linen gowns, and at his direction each put on one of the gowns. Freddie's was much too long, and he was obliged to hold it up.
"Well," said Toby, "I always did look ridiculous in a night-gown, but this beats—"
"Peace," said Shiraz. "The Fire will not harm you now. Two things only are necessary: to fear nothing, and to hold tight to the hour-glasses."
With these words he clapped his hands, and from behind the hangings on the rear wall stepped a black man, clad in a robe similar to the others. To this man the Persian spoke in some strange tongue, and the man bowed.
"Now," said Shiraz, "you will follow my servant. Farewell, and peace be with you."
The white-robed figures, having left the room by a small circular door behind the hangings, followed the black servant along a pitch-dark passage, and in a few moments came to a bridge, similar to the one they had crossed before. As they felt their way over it cautiously one by one, the sound of rushing water came to them from below, and a cold breeze fanned their cheeks. A little further on they touched the first step of a stair, and began to ascend its worn stone treads. They mounted some thirty steps, and touching the wall with their hands, moved onward along a passage. This passage made an abrupt turn to the left, and when they had cleared the corner they saw in its sides before them a gleam of light here and there.
"The Master's work-rooms," said the black servant. "Please to follow."
They passed now and then beneath a lighted window, too high to be seen through, and at the end of the passage the servant paused before a closed iron door. He opened this door with a key, and led them forth.
Before them was a garden, the most beautiful that any of them had ever seen. High over it was a dome of pale green and amber glass, through which the sunlight streamed in mild and parti-coloured rays. The walls which supported the dome were so high that it was impossible to see beyond. In the center was afountain, dropping in a sparkling shower into a marble basin; around it spread a well-ordered carpet of flowers, of all the colours, as it seemed, of the rainbow; along the walls were cocoa palms, banana trees, and the feathery bamboo; white cockatoos sailed across from palm to palm; the air was heavy with a warm odour of moist earth and blossoms. The whole party drew a deep breath of pleasure. The dark place from which they had come seemed to fade away like a dream before the soft beauty of the garden.
The servant led them to the opposite side, and unlocked a door in the wall, making way for them to pass in before him. They entered, and heard the door locked behind them; the servant was no longer with them; they were alone in a small square room, of stone walls and an earthen floor; there was no opening, but in the opposite wall was a closed door. A pale light pervaded the place, from what source they could not discover. In the earthen floor from wall to wall grew a thicket of stiff stalks, higher than Freddie's head, and clustered closely around each stalk from bottom to top were flowers of a waxen whiteness.
"It seems a real pity," said Aunt Amanda, "to break those pretty plants, but I reckon we've got to wade into them. I'm mighty curious to see what's on the other side of that door. Probably the fire the old man was talking about. Oh, dear, I don't like fire. But we've got to get to that door, so come along."
The whole party moved in a body into the thicket of waxen stalks.
As they stepped in, the stalks broke around them with sharp reports. They moved on again, and the reports, as the stalks broke, became louder and louder; and now each one felt the hour-glass in his hand being tugged at, and found that wherever his hand touched a flower, the petals flattened themselves on the hand and the glass, and clung so tight that ittook a hard jerk to get them loose. There was danger of losing the glasses, and with one accord they held the glasses high above their heads. The moment they did so, the conduct of the stalks became terrifying indeed.
As if in anger, the broken stalks spouted forth, with a hiss and a rush, blinding jets of liquid white fire, which tore at the ceiling angrily and roared and crackled. From the broken stalks it spread to the others, and in a moment jets of liquid white fire were blazing and crackling upward from all the stalks in the room, and the terrified captives were in the very midst of it.
It ran up their robes and showered on them from the ceiling; it became denser and angrier; it was all but unbearable, though they felt it in only a tiny fraction of its real strength; in another instant the frail white gowns must surely be consumed. But in some strange way the gowns shed off the liquid fire, and remained unscorched.
For a moment the sufferers were stupefied. They were unable to move. Freddie tried to scream, but he could make no sound; he almost fainted away; but he felt, through it all, the sturdy arm of Mr. Toby tight about him.
They pushed on in a close body and passed the center of the room; the white glare became more blinding, the roar and crackle more deafening; they were surrounded, cut off, in the midst of destruction; they were bewildered; they stopped again; there was no use in going back; they must get forward through the furnace at any cost; they made a new start; and in a frenzy of terror, their hands before their eyes, with a rush they gained the door. They crowded against it; they pushed and beat upon it; it gave way before them; they rushed through, and it closed behind them of its own accord.
They were standing in broad daylight on the sidewalk of a city street, under a high blank wall, with shops on the opposite side; each with an hour-glass, empty of sand, in his right hand, and each clad only in a long white night-gown.
They looked behind them. A high stone wall rose at their backs, and in it was no sign of a door.
They looked across the street. It was a narrow street, paved with cobble-stones; on the opposite side, where a row of little low shops stretched away on either hand, a few people were going in and out at the doors, and a few others were walking at some distance, before the shop-windows. An ox-cart was coming slowly down the street.
Freddie had sometimes dreamed of being out among people in broad daylight in his night-gown, and he now felt the same terror he had felt in those dreams; he looked anxiously at the shops for a place in which to hide. No one appeared to observe them yet, but they would soon be seen, and it would be dreadful, unless they could find shelter without a moment's delay.
"We had better run into one of those shops," said he, breathlessly, "and ask them to hide us until we can get some clothes."
"Ah, no," said a soft voice beside him, at his right. "It is not a shop that I must go to now. I must hurry home."
Freddie looked around at his right for Aunt Amanda. There was no Aunt Amanda. In her place, holding an empty hour-glass in her right hand, was a lady, the fairest whom Freddie had ever seen. She was young; her eyes were of the blue of summer skies;her hair was golden yellow; on her soft white cheek was a tinge of pink; two heavy braids of hair hung almost to her knees; her eyes were sparkling with happiness, and a tender and wistful smile curved her lips. As Freddie gazed at her, he thought that there could not be in the world another so radiantly beautiful. She looked about her as one who sees familiar things after a long absence.
Freddie's eyes fell to the hand which was nearest him, her left. On the third finger of her left hand was a ruby ring.
"Are you," he faltered, "are you—Aunt Amanda?"
"I think," she said, smiling on him, "I think I was, once. I think I can remember that name. And you are—let me see; what was your name? Ah, yes, your name was Freddie. But we must hurry; we must not keep them waiting."
Freddie turned, and saw beside him four strange men, all gazing at the beautiful lady in amazement. In the right hand of each was an empty hour-glass.
Freddie looked down on the two men who stood nearest him; he lookeddownon them; he was suddenly aware that he was not looking up. They were short, for full-grown men, and of precisely the same height; their faces were square, their cheek-bones prominent, and their noses hooked; the head of one was bald, and the hair of the other's head lay flat down on his forehead where it curved back like a hairpin; except for their heads, they were in all respects twins. There was no hump on the back of either of them.
"Mr. Punch and Mr. Toby!" said Freddie.
"The wery same," said the bald-headed one.
"That's me," said the other.
Behind Mr. Toby stood a lean man in spectacles. His night-gown hung upon him very loosely, and he was very spare indeed. His smooth-shaven cheeks were somewhat hollow; his eyes behind his glasses weredeep and solemn; his frame was the frame of one who subdues the flesh by fasting; snow-white hair, curling inward at the back of his neck, made a kind of aureole around his thin face; he looked for all the world as he stood barefoot in his long white gown, like one of those saints you see in painted glass windows in a church.
"Is it," said Freddie, hesitating, "is it—the Churchwarden?"
"I have reason to believe," said the saintly looking man, "that I have been known by that name. But I am in reality, and always have been, in reality, something far more lowly than a churchwarden; I am, and always have been, at heart, a meek and humble follower of the holy Thomas à Kempis, whose life of serene and cloistered sanctity I have always wished to imitate. Now that I am myself, it is my ambition to be known, if it is not too presumptuous to say so, as Thomas the Inferior. Pax vobiscum."
"I ain't got the least idea what that means," said Toby, "but anyway it's the Churchwarden's voice, whether he calls himself Thomas the Inferior or Daniel the Deleterious. You're heartily welcome, Warden, and I hope you won't mind my saying that a good meal wouldn't do you any harm, from the looks of you. I'm pretty near starved to death myself. Mr. Punch, we've got rid of our humps, as sure as you're born. We're as straight in our bodies as we've always been in our minds, and that's as straight as a string. By crackey, I never felt so fine in my life; blamed if I couldn't lick my weight in wildcats."
"Hi 'ave no wish to do so," said Mr. Punch. "Hi do not desire to engage in any conflict whatever; Hi should regard such conduct as wery reprehensible; wery. But one cannot but admit, harfter one's back 'as been so long out of correct proportion, as one may s'y, that one enjoys a wery pronounced satisfactionwhen one feels one's self restored to one's rightful position as a hupright person, in common with one's fellow—"
"What about Mr. Hanlon?" said Toby, turning around.
"Michael Hanlon, prisent!" said a cheerful voice.
Behind the Inferior Thomas stood a tall and handsome man, the picture of an athlete in the prime of condition. Short curling black hair clustered on his head; his eyes were of a humorous dark blue; his cheeks were like red apples; his shoulders were muscular, his back was straight, his figure slim; and he wore his night-gown as a Greek runner in ancient times might have worn his robe after the games.
"What!" said Freddie. "Can you talk?"
"Faith," said Mr. Hanlon, "I've a tongue in me head that can wag with anny that iver come off the blarney stone, and it's no lies I'm tellin' ye. For an Irish gintleman to have to listen and listen, and kape his tongue still in his head and say niver a worrd at all, at all, 'tis a hard life, me frinds, a hard life, and it's plaised I am to be mesilf at last, and the nate bit of tongue doin' his duty like a thrue son of Erin—I could tell ye a swate little shtory that comes to me mind, of a dumb Irishman that could not spake at all, at all, and the deaf wife of him that could not hear, and their twelve pigs all lyin' down in the mud with wan of thim standing up and crying out that the wolf was comin' in through the gate, and the good wife unable to hear and the good man unable to spake—"
"I reckon you've got your tongue, all right," said Toby. "I wish we had time to hear that story, but we haven't. Now, Freddie, what do you think we'd better—Why, Freddie! What's that you've got on your lip?"
Freddie put his hand to his upper lip. What he felt there was a tiny silken mustache. He blushed.
"And 'e's taller than any of us except Mr. 'Anlon!" exclaimed Mr. Punch. "My word!"
Freddie looked down at Mr. Punch, and realized his own height. He looked at his hands, and they were almost as large as Mr. Hanlon's. His night-gown came to his ankles, and he realized that he was no longer holding it up.
"Why," he said, "I must be grown up!"
"Grown up is the word," said Toby, "but I'd 'a' known you anywhere. Twenty-one years old, I should say."
"Twenty-two," said Mr. Punch.
Everyone now fell silent. The young and lovely lady, who had said nothing during their talk, was smiling from one to another. She seemed to feel no embarrassment nor concern, nor anything indeed but happiness. She looked at Toby with a smile, and all the men looked at her.
"Do you know me?" she said to Toby.
"You are changed," said he, "that's a fact. But I always knew that Aunt Amanda was like that, down deep inside of her. If she could only have looked like what she was, that's the way she would have looked, and I always knew it. I'm glad you've come to look like yourself at last."
"Ah!" said the beautiful lady. "I am glad you don't feel that I am strange to you. I know you all now, better than I have ever known you. You have been with me a long while, under disguise. I don't seem to remember very well what your disguises were, for I seem to have known you always as you are: my loyal knight," (turning to Freddie), "my body-guard," (turning to Mr. Toby and Mr. Punch), "my confessor," (turning to Thomas the Inferior), "and my courier," (turning to Mr. Hanlon). "In my exile you have been with me, and in my homecoming you shall be with me still."
"We hope to be with you always," said the tall young knight who used to be Freddie. "But we are beginning to be noticed. I have seen one or two people stare from the shop windows. We had better hurry to one of those shops and seek refuge until we can find proper clothes."
"Ah, no!" said the lady, with a radiant smile. "I must hasten home. They have been waiting a long time, and I must not lose a moment. I know the way! This street is changed since I was here, but I know it! I know the way! Come with me! I am going home!"
She placed her empty hour-glass in Freddie's hand, and led the way up the street. Her bare feet trod the pavement swiftly; she walked as if she had never known what it was to be lame; she went swimmingly, with a motion of infinite grace. The others looked about them, uneasily, as they followed, but she seemed to care nothing for the eyes of the people. The ox-cart stopped as it came to them, and the driver who was walking beside it stopped also, and gazed at them with his mouth open. Faces appeared at shop-windows as they went by, and figures appeared at shop-doors. Two or three foot-passengers passed them, and after they had gone, went to the nearest shop-door and stood there for a moment in talk with the shop-keeper. They then began to follow the strange white-clad group up the street. In a few moments others joined them. Freddie looked behind, and wished to run; but the lady who was leading paid no attention.
A little further on she turned a corner, and the party found themselves in a much busier street. The sidewalks were alive with people. In a moment there was a great silence. When the six figures first appeared, some of the people began to laugh. Then they looked at the face of the lady who swept along in advance of her attendants, and they laughed nomore. They began to whisper one to another. They fell apart, and made way for her and her attendants. They stopped; they forgot their own affairs; some ran into the shops and called out the persons who were within; they gaped, and whispered, and nodded, and held up their hands, and with one accord began to follow.
Further on, heads appeared from the windows of pleasure-towers and pleasure-domes; doors opened; all who could walk joined themselves to the crowd which was following the wondrous lady and her five strange companions.
Deeper and deeper into the city; on past the region of shops into the region of gardens and mansions; up by a gradual ascent to the place of the largest and tallest towers and domes; on they went, the six white-gowned and bare-footed figures before, and the crowd behind; and the further they went, the greater became the crowd; and still there was no sound from the people, except the sound of an awestruck whispering.
The dark cloud on the mountain-top was now plainly in view before them between the towers and domes, and they could see the great mass of the King's Tower where it rose to the cloud and lost itself within it. At the end of the street which they were now following a majestic gateway could be seen, and beyond it a park.
Behind them the street was choked from wall to wall with a vast multitude. From every house, as the multitude passed, its people poured forth and joined the throng; business was forgotten; shops and houses were deserted; it seemed as if the whole city was in the street, following the lady and her five attendants. She looked not behind her once. She seemed to be unaware of anything in the world about her; her eyes shone like stars; she had forgotten even her companions; she spoke not a word, but looked forward to the stately gateway and the park beyond. Still nosound came from the multitude, except a sound of whispering.
They reached the gateway. On each side was a great stone pillar, supporting a gate of massive bronze. The gates were open. Without an instant's hesitation she led the way within, and as she did so placed her left hand on her heart. The throng seemed to waver a moment, and then as the six barefoot and white-gowned figures moved swiftly up the driveway into the park, it flowed in silently between the gates, and followed at a respectful distance.
Before them, at a distance, on a knoll from which terraces of velvet grass descended, stood the palace of the King; white and broad and flat-roofed.
Passing a grove of trees, the lady left the roadway and stepped into the smooth grass of a lawn, and sped across it directly towards the terraces before the palace of the King. She mounted the gentle slope, her five friends following her; and the vast throng, filling the park to the gates, came on behind. She reached the first terrace; her hand was still on her heart. A dog barked.
Windows in the palace front began to go up, and faces to appear. From an archway sprang a pack of beautiful tall white curly-haired dogs, and rushed on the lady, barking. Freddie made as if to protect her, but she waved him back with a smile. The dogs sprang up as if to devour her, but they did no harm; they barked as if their throats would burst; they leaped and gambolled about her; they thrust their noses into her hand; they almost spoke; and in the midst of it there appeared upon the wide steps before the palace door a noble-looking man, and beside him three children.
At sight of this man and the children, the lady covered her eyes for an instant with her hands, and gave a sob; but she quickly looked up, and sped on moreswiftly than before, her hands hanging beside her, and a bright misty look in her eyes.
The man upon the palace steps shaded his eyes with his hands, and gazed upon her and the multitude spread out across the park behind her. One of the children, a tiny boy, he took by the hand, and another, a girl a little older, he grasped with his other hand; and with the third, a boy of something over nine, beside them, they all four came down the steps and crossed the terrace to meet the radiant lady.
On the next terrace they met. He dropped his children's hands, and stopped. He was a man of some thirty years, richly clad, and handsome beyond measure. As he stopped, the multitude found its voice. A mighty shout went up.
"Long live the King! Long live the King!"
He paid no attention. His eyes were on the fair lady before him. A cry from the oldest boy rang out clear and sharp in the silence.
"Mother!"
The King held out his arms.
"My darling!" he cried. "At last! At last!"
"Beloved!" she cried, and rushed into his arms, and buried her face in his shoulder.
The children clung to her, weeping, and with one arm she pressed them close against her side.
The multitude found its voice again.
"Long live Queen Miranda! Long live Queen Miranda!"