THE ENCHANTED BABY
Once upon a time the King of a great country had a quarrel with a goblin. Now it chanced that the King had the best of the dispute, and this so angered the goblin that he departed from the realm and cast about for an opportunity to do a mischief to his foe.
Now, as the goblin bided his time, it came to pass that the King and the Queen, who had long been childless, became the proud parents of a bouncing baby boy. From rosy summer morn to the murmuring quiet of a summer night, the whole realm gave itself over to rejoicing. Bells rang from the towers in cities and steeples in the fields, cannon boomed from castle towers, and small cakes, each one iced with the Prince’s monogram in red and white sugar, were distributed by royal command among the children of the realm.
Now it was the custom of the country that the heir to the throne be shown to the assembled nobility of the realm on the first day of his seventh week in this changing world of ours, and presently this day stood at hand upon the calendar.
On the afternoon of the ceremony, the scene within the great hall of the palace was magnificence itself! Assembled by thousands and ten thousands, the magnificoes of the land, all in ceremonial attire, moved or tried to move about; but as the huge hall was crowded to its bulging doors, this was difficult, and there were, I regret to say, the usual faintings from lack of air, cries of protest, bad-tempered pushing, caps knocked awry, crumpled ruffs, and lost jewels.
Suddenly the great bell of the palace set up a ponderous and solemn booming—the ceremony was about to begin! Mercilessly crowding back the already densely jammed magnificoes on the toes of still other magnificoes, a number of gentleman ushers contrived to open an aisle the length of the hall, and when this feat had been accomplished, the two tallest sergeants in the royal army opened the double portals leading forth from the royal drawing-room. And now, heralded by a great ringing peal of golden trumpets, and accompanied by a crash of exultant thunder on the palace organ, a noble procession slowly advanced through the gateway into the hall. The generalissimo of the royal armies came first, marching solemnly and quite alone, for he was marshal of the occasion; then came trumpeters in green and yellow; then a chosen detail of giant grenadiers dressed in rose-red and silver-grey; then pages scattering flowers from golden baskets; then a little space; and then, advancing with the dignity of a cloud; appeared the Lord Chancellor, wheeling in the baby.
Of finest yellow gold were the wheels and push-bar of the perambulator, whilst the carriage part had been hollowed from a single stupendous opal! Amid a deafening din of huzzas and shouts and bell clangs, the procession solemnly advanced to a dais raised at the head of the hall.
Suddenly an invisible shape fluttered in through a window, muttered something beside the baby’s cradle, uttered a mocking goblin laugh, and fled away unperceived and unsuspected.
After wheeling the baby to the centre of the dais, the Lord Chancellor gave a signal to the trumpeters to break into the national anthem, and bent over the cradle to take the infant and show him to the throng. To his horror, the cradle wasempty! The little Prince’s pillow was there, the coverlet edged with turquoise, and the rattle filled with seed pearls—but no baby.
“The baby! The baby! Where’s the baby?” gulped the Lord Chancellor, scarce able to speak. An awkward pause followed: excited whispers, conjectures, rumors buzzed through the audience. Presently, as the truth began to spread, a growing uproar rocked the hall. Soon everybody was busily looking here and there—lifting up edges of carpets, poking about behind curtains, staring at the ceiling, and examining corners.
All at once a baby’s cry was heard, faint to be sure, but quite unmistakable.
“Search, search, my friends!” cried the King. “The Grand Cross of the Order of the Bluebird to whosoever discovers my child!”
The baby’s cry was heard again! Where could he be?
Suddenly a clever young lady-in-waiting, who had been searching the opal carriage, uttered a piercing shriek. While groping about in the perambulator, she had felt the baby, but had been unable to see him. Like a sudden crumbling of walls, the dreadful truth broke upon everyone present.
The baby had become invisible!
Invisible he was, and invisible he remained. You may well believe that his upbringing was indeed a difficult task! To make matters worse, it was soon discovered that not only was the Prince himself totally invisible, but also that such clothes as touched him became invisible, too. One couldfeelthe little Prince, one couldhearhim—and that was all. Thus, if he crept away on the nursery floor, one had either to grope for him through the clear air, carefully feeling here and feeling there, or wait until he cried. No wonder the poor Queen was forever searching the land for new nurses-in-waiting, and forever sending home nurses whose nerves had proved unequal to the strain! One could never tell what might be happening.
On one occasion, for instance, the child actually managed to escape from his nursery to the sweeping lawns of the royal palace, and the entire national army, working in scout formation, had to spend the whole afternoon creeping about on its hands and knees before the prince was found asleep in the shelter of a plum tree.
Now, when every attempt to undo the spell had failed, it came to pass that the King went to visit the Wise Man of Pansophia, a learned sage who sat in a wing chair beneath a green striped umbrella at the crossroads of the world, giving counsel to all comers. This sage was clad in the stately folds of a full black gown, a round black velvet cap rested on the crown of his snow-white head, a broad white beard lay spread upon his breast, and on his nose were huge round spectacles, over whose edge he looked with an air of solemn authority.
Beginning at the umbrella, an army of questioners, patiently waiting in single file, stretched dozens of miles across the rolling land and disappeared, still unbroken, over the crest of a distant hill. These patient folk, it is a pleasure to relate, courteously gave way to the unhappy King.
When he had heard the King’s story, the Wise Man shook his venerable head, and replied in a voice which sounded like the booming of waves on a resounding shore:—
“The spell which binds your son is a mighty one, and can only be removed by touching him with the spell-dispeller, the all-powerful talisman given your ancestor, King Decimo, by his fairy bride.”
“Alas,” replied the King, “the spell-dispeller was stolen from the royal treasury twenty years ago. Could you not tell us who stole it, or where it may be found?”
“Was it not the only spell-dispeller in the whole wide world?” questioned the Wise Man.
“It was,” replied the King with a sad, assenting nod.
“Then it was stolen from you by the Master Thief of the Adamant Mountains,” boomed the Wise Man.
“And perhapsyoucan tell us wherehecan be found,” said the King. The Wise Man shook his head.
“Ask me where lies the raindrop which fell yesterday in the river,” replied the Wise Man, “but ask me not where dwells the Master Thief. I do not know. No one knows. But as for breaking the spell, it is the spell-dispeller or nothing. Would that I could help you more!”
And, bidding the King a ceremonious farewell, the sage turned his attention to the questioner at the head of the long line, a stout peasant-fellow whose cottage chimney failed to draw.
But now you must hear of the Master Thief of the Adamant Mountains.
This mysterious personage, of whom all had heard, but whom none had seen, dwelt in a secret house in a lost valley of the mountains, a house so artfully shaped and so cunningly concealed with vines and branches, that the very birds of the air were deceived by it and would often come to roost on the chimney, mistaking it for a chestnut tree! As for the Master Thief himself, a kind of living bean-pole was he, for he was taller than the tallest, leaner than the leanest, and provided with a pair of long, tireless legs which could outrun and outlast the swiftest coursers in the land.
During the night, he moved through the world in a strange garment of pitchy blue-black, fitted as close to him as the skin to an eel; during the day, he wore a marvelous vesture on which were painted leaves, spots of sun, dabs of blue shade, and stripes of earthy brown.
Now this Master Thief was no ordinary robber, for he stole not for stealing’s sake, but only to gather new rarities for a wonderful museum he housed in the caverns under his dwelling. Surely there was never such a marvelous museum as the museum of the Master Thief!
Deep in the solemn echoing caves, ticketed and labeled each one, and arranged in order, shelf on shelf, was to be found thefinest specimenof everything in the world which men had made or loved. The most comfortable chair in the world was there, the pointedest pin, the warmest blanket, the loudest drum, the stickiest glue, the most interesting book, the funniest joke, the largest diamond, the most lifelike stuffed cat, the handsomest lamp-shade, and a thousand things more. To relabel his collection, to move it about, to do things to it and with it was the supreme delight of the Master Thief. Seated in the most comfortable chair in the world, finger tips together, he spent hours gloating on his treasures, and wondering if he lacked aught beneath the sun. Presently he chanced to hear of the invisible baby’s opal perambulator, and instantly determined to add this new wonder to his gallery.
Going first to his secret den, he spun for himself a globe of delicate glass, spoke five words into it, and sealed them snug within. Next, he attired himself in his parti-colored suit, put the globe in his pocket, and fled on his long legs over hill and over dale to the royal city.
Arriving late in the afternoon, he made his way without difficulty into the gardens of the palace. The day was fair as only a day on the threshold of summer may be, and the opal perambulator stood unattended in the shade of a clump of ancient trees. Magnificently clad, a number of royal nurses were standing about the silver fence which enclosed the prince’s romping-yard. Far off, in the sunny distance, sounded the drums and fifes of the palace soldiery.
And now, creeping nearer unobserved, the Master Thief took the crystal globe from his pocket and tossed it near the group. Striking the ground, the globe burst with the faintest crystal tinkle, and the words that the cunning Master Thief had sealed within escaped into the air. And these words were:—
Oh, look at the balloon!
Immediately all the nurses looked to the sky to see the imaginary balloon, and while they were looking here and looking there, the Master Thief sprang to the opal perambulator, released the brake on the golden wheels, and, pushing the carriage ahead of him, ran like mad down the flower-bordered alleyways and out the garden gates to the highroad.
Over hill, over dale, in a long straight line, fled the Master Thief with the golden perambulator
Over hill, over dale, in a long straight line, fled the Master Thief with the golden perambulator
Over hill, over dale, in a long straight line, fled the Master Thief with the golden perambulator
Across the landscape in a long straight line fled the Master Thief on his wonderful legs, pushing the perambulator all the while. Now they saw him bouncing it across furrowed fields, now they saw it speed like a jeweled boat through a sea of waving green grain, now they beheld it scattering the silly sheep in the upland wilds.
Presently the bells of the city set up the maddest ringing; foot soldiers were turned out on the roads, and squadrons of cavalry were sent galloping after; but all in vain—the jeweled carriage, blazing in the western glow, sped like a meteor over the land. The last they saw of it was a moving streak of light along the steep slope of a mountain, a light which gleamed for a moment on the crest like a large, misplaced, and iridescent star, and then swiftly sank from view.
When the Master Thief reached his secret haven in the valley, he shouted aloud for triumph, and swiftly wheeled the perambulator down to the museum.The most magnificent perambulator in the world!Once more drawing forth the most comfortable chair, the Master Thief sank into it and contemplated his newest prize.
Suddenly, a strange sound, half cry, half gurgle caused him to sit bolt upright. Had someone discovered his secret treasury? What could it mean? And now there came a second cry which ended in a long protesting wail.
The Master Thief had stolen the invisible baby along with the carriage!
Now the notion of having to take care of a baby, of any baby, was a matter which might well alarm the Master Thief; but as for aninvisiblebaby, that was indeed a trial! All at once, however, the Master Thief slapped his knee and chuckled for joy—he had thought of the spell-dispeller! Holding aloft the brightest lantern in the world, the robber made his way to the little side-cavern in which he had placed the talisman.
His heart jumped. The spell-dispeller was gone!
Baffled and perplexed, the Master Thief began a nervous search of the little cavern; but never a sign of the spell-dispeller could he find. Vowing not to restore the Prince till he had found the talisman and tested its power, the Master Thief at length abandoned the search and carried the Prince through the caverns to his dwelling.
And now days passed, and months passed, and even years, without bringing to light the spell-dispeller. From an invisible infant the Prince grew to be an invisible boy, whose merry voice and friendly presence played about the house of the Master Thief like a capful of summer wind on a mountain lake.
Heigho, but after all it wasn’t so bad to be invisible! One could see things and find things hidden away from all other mortals; one could climb to the side of a bird’s nest, sit still, and watch the mother bird feed her young; one could dive, unseen, into the clear, cold pools of the mountain streams and pinch the lurking trout by their rippling tails; one could follow the squirrel to his secret granary!
Now, during the Prince’s fifteenth year, it came to pass that the Master Thief suddenly became ashamed of his wicked ways, so ashamed indeed that he resolved not only to forgo furthercollectingbut also to return every single thing he had stolen! The invisible Prince, I am glad to tell you, was of the greatest possible service to the Master Thief in this honest task. And now, all over the kingdoms of the world, people began to find their stolen possessions waiting for them when they came down to breakfast in the morning: the stuffed cat became once more the pride of the Blue Tower, the most interesting book went back to its place on the shelves of the royal library, the golden scroll of the funniest joke appeared as if by magic on the wall of the king’s own room. Alas for human waywardness, there were actually people who had grown so accustomed to the loss of their belongings that they reviled the Master Thief for their return. Dreadful to relate,—the style having changed,—the handsomest lamp-shade was actually tossed in a well!
At the end of the fifth year, the opal perambulator and the invisible Prince were the only two stolen things left to return. The invisible youth was twenty years old. With a sorrowful heart, for the youth was as dear to him as a son, the repentant Master Thief began preparations to restore prince and perambulator to the unhappy parents.
Now it came to pass that, on the morning of departure, the Master Thief descended for the last time to the forlorn and dusty corridors of his great museum and walked about the galleries, leaving footprints in the dust and musing on the glories that had been. Here had stood the shiniest rubber-plant, here the most beautiful hat-rack, here the only eraser which had never rubbed a hole in the paper. A tear gathered in his eye. He had loved them; he had stolen them; he had restored them; he was free!
All at once his glance, roving empty shelves, fell on a tiny box wedged in a sombre corner. With a loud shout of joy, the Master Thief recognized the spell-dispeller! It had fallen behind a shelf and had lain there concealed for almost twenty years! Thrusting it into his pocket’s depth, the Master Thief bounded up the secret stairs to the joy of the sun.
After a pleasant rambling journey in a huge coach, the Master Thief and the invisible Prince reached the city at the twilight hour, and took lodgings at a quiet, comfortable inn. The invisible Prince, I must remind you, was still invisible.
Now it came to pass that when supper had been served and eaten, the Master Thief and the invisible Prince went for a stroll through the royal city. Much to the surprise of the travelers, they found the city hung with streamers and bunting of the gayest kind. Stranger still, in spite of this display, the citizens of the royal city appeared to be particularly out of spirits.
“Good host,” said the Master Thief to the landlord of the inn, “pray what means this air of jubilee? Do you make merry for some kingly festival?”
“A festival, yes,” replied the host, looking about to see if anyone were listening, “festival it is, but only in name. Have you not heard the news? Let us walk a little to one side and I will tell you the story.
“Three years ago our gracious sovereign, the good King Valdoro the Fourth—weary of the cares of state and still stricken to the heart by the loss of his son, the invisible Prince of whom you may have heard—gave over the guidance of the kingdom to the Marquis Malicorn. Last week this official made himself master of the royal power, imprisoned our dear King and Queen in a dark tower, and proclaimed himself successor to the throne. The coronation is to be held to-morrow afternoon in the great hall of the royal palace. Alas for the people and the nation! Oh, if the invisible Prince would only return!”
To this the Master Thief nodded his head, his busy brain plotting all the while. All at once he smiled. He had devised a plan.
And now it was once more the great hall of the castle, and once more a sunny afternoon. Bells rang, but their cry was wingless and leaden, and there was a dull and joyless note in the cannon’s roar. Crowded as densely together as ever they were twenty years before, the magnificoes sullenly awaited the arrival of the usurper and his train.
Presently the portals were once more swept apart, revealing Malicorn and his followers. Not a sound rose from the assembly.
Growling for rage beneath a huge pair of dragoon’s whiskers, the wicked Marquis made his way to the dais and the coronation chair. The noise of bells and cannon ceased. An official in blue advanced with the royal robe.
Just as he was about to throw it over the waiting shoulders of the usurper, an invisible something snatched the robe from him and, lo, it melted into the air!
Exceedingly angry, yet disturbed at heart, Malicorn hoped for better luck with the sceptre, but this, too, was snatched by an invisible hand. As for the royal crown, it vanished from its purple cushion in the twinkling of an eye.
Speechless with rage, Malicorn now rose to his feet, and stood before the throne, glaring about into the air. Cries of defiance, mingled with shouts of derision, rose from among the magnificoes. And now, even as the turmoil was at its height, the Master Thief, who had been concealed behind some curtains, strode boldly forth to the dais, thrust Malicorn aside with a sweep of his long arms, and shouted to the audience:—
“Magnificoes of the Realm, you came to see your King. Your rightful King is here. Would you behold him?”
“Yes!” shouted the assembly in one voice. And now the Master Thief touched the invisible Prince with the spell-dispeller.
The instant he did so a flash of deep golden light set everyone blinking, fairy music was heard, and suddenly the invisible Prince stood visible before the throne. He was tall, dark-haired, brown-eyed, and a bit slim, and the crown was on his head, the robe on his shoulders, and the sceptre in his hand.
And now the bells and cannon began to boom in real earnest, and a gay breeze came sweeping in to toss the flags and banners that had hung so still. Overcome by emotion, the generalissimo seized the Lord Chancellor by the waist and swung him into a jig, the soldiers all tossed their caps into the air and cheered like mad, whilst the organist became so excited that he began to play two tunes at once. Everybody was laughing and hallooing and hurrahing.
As for Malicorn and his crew, they were tumbling out the back door as fast as their legs could carry them, and nobody has seen them from that day to this.
Presently the old King and the Queen, released from the dark tower, came hurrying in to greet their son.
“He resembles you, my dear,” whispered the King to the Queen.
The Master Thief was forgiven everything.
Singing and rejoicing, the people of the city poured from the houses into the sunny streets.
Clang, clang! Boom! Clang, clang! Boom, boom! Boom! Boom!
And they all lived happily ever after.