The king flew into a violent passion, threw both his boots with an unerring aim at the head of Lord Pompous, and vowed that the world must certainly be coming to an end. When the courtiers had all agreed to this as a novel but most reasonable remark, he called them a parcel of fools for thinking such a thing at all probable, and ordered Zac to be immediately arrested. When told of what he was accused, the poor boy was almost beside himself with grief. He was sorry enough for the trouble he was in, and for that which might fall upon Belinda in consequence; but he was still more sorry for the cruel conduct of the two princesses, whom he had really liked, and who had behaved so heartlessly to him for only doing his duty. Even now, however, he behaved like a true gentleman.
When Fridolin asked him what he had to allege in his defence, he bowed low before the king, and said "Nothing." When asked if he then confessed himself guilty, he replied:
"May it please your majesty, I should feel guilty if I allowed myself to deny any statement made by the noble princesses, your majesty's royal daughters."
This speech would have touched many hearts, but Fridolin was in too great a passion at that moment to be touched by anything, and he gave orders that Zac should immediately be thrown into a deep dungeon, fed upon bread and water, and confined there until it should be settled whether he should be beheaded or banished, which were the only two punishments which occurred to the king just then. Accordingly, the poor boy was roughly dragged away from the royal presence, taken down a great many stone steps, until he arrived at the dungeon door, and then thrust through it, and left to think over all that had happened.
The Princess Belinda, meanwhile, was quite ignorant of the whole affair until the next morning, when her two sisters visited her in her apartment. They came, as may be supposed, in no very friendly state of mind, and told their story in a manner which would have greatly distressed Belinda, if she had not had the most perfect reliance upon Zac. They pretended to condole with her on the circumstance of his having repeatedly made love to both of them, playing one off against the other, and striving to induce them to persuade the king to let him marry one of them instead of her. They said that they had refrained from telling her this before, for fear of wounding her feelings, but that now they were obliged to do so. Then they told their concocted story about the summer-house, and related all that had subsequently occurred. Poor Belinda shed bitter tears, but showed her disbelief in their story so plainly, that they presently changed their tone, asked who and whatshewas, forsooth, that a husband should be provided for her—telling her that she should never have him after all, that they would take care he was kept in the dungeon until he came to his senses, and making all kinds of other unpleasant observations, which made the poor child very unhappy. So as soon as her sisters had left her, she determined to go down to her foster-mother's cottage, and seek consolation from her.
Off she set, and walked down to the forest, crying all the way, until she got to the cottage. There, to her dismay, she found the door locked, for the good woman had gone to carry her husband's dinner out to him on the plain, and had locked up the house until her return. Belinda did not know what to do, for as she was not very strong, she felt somewhat tired with her walk, and not equal to walking back again without rest. So she sat down in the trellised arbour by the cottage door, and presently fell fast asleep. As she slept, she dreamed a curious dream. She thought that her mother came and looked upon her. Of course, Belinda could not remember her mother, for the very good reason that she had died very shortly after the child was born. Still, somehow or other, she knew it was her mother, very bright and beautiful, and with such a loving look upon her face as only mothers have when they gaze upon their children. When her mother had looked down upon her for a little while, she stooped down and spoke, in a soft, sweet, gentle tone of voice.
"My little one," she said, "do not despair and be down-hearted: all will yet be well with you. You have had much trouble in the past, but your happiness in the future will be all the brighter by the contrast. If you want help, you are near it now, for Canetto, the Prince of the Forest Mannikins, is my cousin, and you are in his country."
Belinda started up wide-awake, just as her mother seemed to have finished speaking. The words were still ringing in her ears, and she looked round and rubbed her eyes in great amazement. There was nothing to be seen. A soft breeze from the south gently stirred the leaves of the honeysuckle and sweetbriar which enfolded the little arbour in their fragrant embrace. The doves were gently cooing in the fir-trees, and far, far away she heard the distant bleating of the sheep on the plain, but there was no mortal being near her. The loving mother, then, had been but the unreal vision of a dream, and the encouraging words had been no more than a passing thought or fancy of her own, mysteriously clothed for a moment with sound. Yet they seemed so vivid—so true. So certain was she that she had actually heard them, that almost insensibly she found herself repeating them aloud.
"Canetto, the Prince of the Forest Mannikins," she exclaimed, and the next moment started with affright at the effect which her own words had produced.
"Who calls Canetto?" said a voice; and at the same instant she perceived a figure standing a few yards off from the entrance to the arbour. It was the figure of a little old man, about three feet high, dressed in a dark green coat, with a velveteen waistcoat and white corduroys. In his hand he held a hunting-whip, with which he carelessly flicked off the heads of the daisies as he stood. Upon his head was a species of wide-awake, as far as Belinda could judge; at least it was of that kind of shape, and seemed to be made of some light material suited to the heat of the weather. But the most remarkable thing about the old gentleman was the marvellous mixture of intelligence and good-humour which appeared upon his countenance. His eyes sparkled with a kind of light, which told you at the first glance that he was not a man to be easily hum-bugged, whilst the smile which seemed constantly hovering upon his mouth betokened a fund of humour and kind-heartedness which was very reassuring to the young princess.
"Who calls Canetto?" he said again, in a kind voice.
The maiden knew that common politeness, as well as her own interest, required a prompt reply.
"Sir," she said, "I am Belinda, King Fridolin's youngest daughter, and my mother was your cousin, I think, and I am very unhappy, and I don't know what to do, and I dreamed that my mother came and told me to ask you to help me; and oh! pray don't be angry with me, for I do not want to do any harm to anybody, only if I may be a little happier!"
While Belinda spoke the little man kept on flicking his hunting-whip and smiling benignly all the time.
"A little happier, my lambkin?" he said as soon as she had finished. "To be sure you shall. Why not? Your mother my cousin? That she was indeed, poor darling! Not only my cousin was she, but we used to be the best of friends before she married King Fridolin, after which I saw little of her, and knew nothing of her great trouble until it was too late to help her."
At these words the princess quite forgot her own sorrow for the moment, in the intense desire she had to know the history of the mother of whom neither her father nor her sisters ever spoke.
"Oh, sir," she cried in an agitated voice, "please tell me about my dear mother. I have so longed to know all about her, and I never shall know unless somebody tells me, for she died when I was quite little, and no one in the palace ever speaks of her to me."
A tinge of melancholy replaced the smile upon the little man's face as he replied to Belinda's question.
"Your mother," said he, "was neither more nor less than an angel, which is more than I can say for your royal father; although, after all, his faults are rather those of his education than any which arise from his natural disposition, which is far from bad. But it is difficult for kings, who have the world at their feet and always get their own way, to be all that one could wish them. Your mother was as near perfection, in body as well as mind, as any human being can attain. Why she married your father I could never understand, except it was because she chose to do so. There were others," (here the small gentleman drew himself up to his full height, placed his right hand upon his heart, and heaved a deep sigh), "there were others who loved her as well and might have made her happier. But Fridolin carried her off, and for a time they were happy. When your elder sisters were born he was contented, although he had wished for a prince, but he could not object to children of such rare beauty. Then came the trouble.
"The fairy Nuisancenika had, and has, wondrous power over the Plain country—by which I don't mean the country of 'plain' people, thoughsheis 'plain' enough in all conscience, but the flat country, wherever there are no woods and hills. Well, this disagreeable woman was always jealous of your mother's beauty, because she herself possessed none, and was the more angry with her because, I think, she always had a fancy to be queen herself. Still, she dared not injure a queen who had carefully avoided doing anything which might give her reasonable cause of offence. True, she did what she could to poison your father's mind and make him dislike his wife; but, save for an unfortunate accident, I think she would have failed altogether. The poor queen dropped her writing-case upon one occasion, and the wicked fairy, finding it, secured some of her private note paper and envelopes with her own particular cipher thereupon. Of these she made use by writing, in exact imitation of your mother's handwriting, some very disagreeable things about the king, which she took good care should fall into his hands. This caused unpleasantness between the hitherto happy couple, and Nuisancenika made it her business to manage that it should not pass away. Then, most unhappily, in driving out one day in her pony-carriage, your poor mother had the bad luck to drive over one of the fairy's favourite adders, which was fast asleep on a grass ride where it had no earthly business to be, and had no right whatever to complain of being killed. But the wicked mistress was furious beyond measure; and as the event occurred when the queen was in the plain country, driving, I believe, to fetch her husband news how the lambing was going on, this circumstance somehow or other gave the fairy power over her which she cruelly used. Had I only known of it in time, the whole misfortune might have been prevented, but I chanced to be away on a visit, and when I returned, your mother was dead and the mischief done. I heard of it too late, and the wretch Nuisancenika had taken such precautions by her enchantments during my absence that, although my power is greater than hers, I could do nothing at all in the matter; nor could I have even disclosed to you the truth, as I have now done, unless you had, of your own free will, come into my country and asked me the question outright."
By the time Canetto had finished his sad story, the poor child to whom he spoke was bathed in tears. She thought not of herself, for her want of beauty and good shape were misfortunes which she had been long accustomed to regard with resignation; but the sorrows and sufferings of her mother penetrated her gentle spirit with the profoundest emotion. She looked up through her tears at the little man, and thanked him in a soft, low voice, broken by her sobs, for his goodness in satisfying her curiosity.
After a short pause he began again:—
"Dry your tears, my petkin," he said, "for I have not come here to make you miserable, but the very reverse, if I can but manage to do so. It was only right that you should know the sorrows of your mother, and the story of your birth, but I should not have cared to tell you if I could do nothing more. It is nowyourturn to speak, and tell me the reason of your coming here; because I have had no communication with the palace, and could have none, during the time that the spell lasted, which you have this day broken by coming here."
Belinda did as she was told (which young ladies should always do, if they wish to be respected and beloved, unless they are told to do something which they dislike, in which case of course it is quite a different matter) and then proceeded to tell the Prince of the Forest Mannikins the whole story of her life, her affection for Zac, the conduct of her sisters with regard to that excellent youth, and her present affliction in consequence of his imprisonment by her father.
During the narration of her story, the little man flicked his hunting-whip continually and appeared at once interested and excited. When she had concluded, and seemed much inclined to indulge in another flood of tears, he hastily stopped her.
"Little petkin," he remarked, "crying can do nobody any good at all, and least of all anyone who has another and better cure for their misfortunes. Come with me, Childerkin, and we will see whether something cannot be done to make matters wear a better appearance."
With these words Canetto led the way into the forest behind the shepherd's cottage, and Belinda followed him with the utmost confidence, being quite sure that he meant to help her if he could. And here we must leave our little princess for a time, in order to return to another individual in whom we ought to be equally interested.
Poor Zac had been cast into a most uncomfortable dungeon, in which there was only one half-broken wooden form to sit down upon, whilst the air was close and heavy, the space confined, and the only light came from a grating in one corner of the ceiling, probably placed there for the purposes of ventilation, and opening into the bottom of a kind of deep ditch, which itself could only be reached by the light from a long distance above. This was indeed a sad change for the poor boy, who had so long been accustomed to the comforts and luxuries of the palace. He felt, as was natural, much cast down and dispirited by his sudden reverse of fortune, and his only consolation was that he had not brought it on himself by any bad conduct of his own. It was very unpleasant, certainly, to be accused of behaving badly to the two princesses, when no one could have possibly behaved better; but he thought to himself that it would have been much worse if he had really been guilty. Besides, he had another consolation, in the firm reliance which he felt in the constancy and affection of Belinda. She, he knew, would be true to him, whatever happened, and this thought cheered his drooping spirits.
He felt rather hungry, and, finding a loaf of black bread and a pitcher of water near it, determined to satisfy his craving forthwith. Having done this there was nothing for it but to sit and think, which he accordingly did, going carefully over in his mind all the events of his past life, and wondering much at the curious fate which had befallen him. He could not recollect anything that had happened when he wasveryyoung. He only remembered being very unhappy at his father's house, being called by his elder brothers and sisters "the little gentleman," and pushed about here and there and everywhere, as if everybody wished him out of the way. Then he called to mind how hard he had tried to be gentle and loving to all, and how he had gradually seemed to get on better and to be more kindly treated. Then came the circumstance of his having specially to tend the pigs, and then the proclamation of the pig-race, when he remembered a discussion about who should ride "Sandy Sue," and how one of the elder Dicksons had been anxious to do so, but was forbidden by his father, who said that "gentleman Zac" was the only one who could win on her, and ride he should. Since that day of course he remembered everything very distinctly—how he had been introduced to the little princess, and her sisters, and the king—how frightened he had been at first, and how soon he had got over that feeling—how kind they had all been to him—how he had taken to his learning and delighted in his books; and then all the sad and trying events of the last few months and his sudden downfall from his career of promised happiness.
All these thoughts passed through the poor boy's head as he sat in his lonely dungeon, and hours slipped by without his taking any count of them. The shades of evening had now fallen upon the palace, but this made little difference to Zac, and indeed he found he could see rather better than upon his first entrance, since his eyes began to become accustomed to the light. All at once he heard a little noise, as if some animal was scratching close at hand. He looked listlessly round, and thought how little it mattered to him what it was. A rat or a mouse would be a companion to his solitude, but if such a creature appeared it would probably fly as soon as it caught sight of him. The noise continued, and in another moment a little mouse poked its head out of a hole in the corner of the dungeon, and fixed its sharp black eyes upon the prisoner as if it had come on purpose to see him and was very glad to find him disengaged. Zac did not move at first, being fearful lest he should disturb his little visitor; but he need not have been alarmed, for it presently came quite out of the hole and sat a few yards off from him, steadily looking him in the face. Seeing the confidence of the animal, Zac thought there could be no fear of his driving it away by the sound of his voice, so he said, partly to the mouse and partly to himself:—
"Poor little creature, I wonder whatyouwant here?"
To his intense surprise the small creature immediately replied, in a shrill but by no means unpleasant voice:—
"I came to see you, Mr. Zac, and to tell you the latest news."
"To see me!" exclaimed the astonished boy. "Well, you must be the best mouse that ever was born to come and take pity upon a poor prisoner like me. And since you can talk so well, perhaps you will kindly inform me what news it is you have to tell."
"King Fridolin is very, very angry with you, Mr. Zac," replied the mouse.
"Unfortunately, my little darling,thatis no news at all," rejoined the boy; "I knew it, to my cost, some hours ago, and it is for that very reason that you find me here."
"But," continued the mouse, "he is so angry that he is determined to punish you with the most terrible punishment ever known, and is only doubting now whether you shall be thrown into the adder-pit, or stripped, smeared with honey and tied to a tree to amuse the wasps and flies."
The poor boy shuddered at these words; but, recovering his firmness immediately, rejoined:—
"Whatever it be, it will be in a good cause that I shall suffer, and I must bear it as best I may."
The mouse went on:—
"You really ought not to have tried to kiss the Princess Concaterina, Mr. Zac," she said.
"If you know anything at all, little mouse," said the boy, indignantly, "you must know that I did no such thing."
"Then," rejoined the other, "why did you not deny it before the king?"
"Do you think I would brand Belinda's own sisters as the tellers of a falsehood?" returned Zac.
"I thinkIshould, sooner than be thrown into a dungeon, and perhaps into an adder-pit afterwards," gravely observed his visitor. "But they say there is some hope for you yet; for the princesses are really fond of you, and if you will consent to marry Concaterina, all may yet be well with you."
"Do you think I would be so base as to save my life upon such terms?" angrily responded the boy.
"Well, I don't know," said the mouse in a slow, hesitating tone of voice, "I think I should, if I were you. I should really advise you to do so. Just consider what a disagreeable, uncomfortable place this is, compared with the palace. Then howveryunpleasant it would be to feel the adders, creeping all over you with their cold, slimy touch, and then stinging you to death at their leisure afterwards. Or how painful and distressing to feel the wasps and flies biting and stinging you, cheerfully buzzing about to look out for a tender place. Oh, it would be a horrible death to die! I shouldstronglyadvise you to marry Concaterina and escape such a fate!"
"What!" exclaimed Zac, "do you come here pretending to be a friend of mine, and advise me to be false to Belinda and break my plighted word? I am quite ashamed of you for giving such advice, little mouse; as I should be of myself if I could listen to it for one moment!"
"As for Belinda," replied the animal, shaking its head sorrowfully, "I do not think you need concern yourself abouther. She implicitly believes the charge against you, and is eager that you should be punished; whilst her tender-hearted sisters are inclined to ask their father to pardon you."
At these words Zac started up in a great passion.
"Belinda false!" he cried. "Belinda believe meguilty! Mouse, I will never believe it! You have betrayed yourself, and are an enemy instead of a friend. I would sooner believe evil of myself than of the princess against whom you utter this calumny. Take this for your wicked falsehood!" So saying, he seized his shoe to throw at the mouse; when, to his intense surprise, the little animal became suddenly transformed into a human being, and Belinda herself stood before him.
"Dearest Zac!" she said, running up at once to the boy and embracing him tenderly, "forgive me for the trial to which I have put your constancy. It was notmywish to do so, but the order of those who have the right to command. I have found a friend who is as able as he is willing to help us, and by his assistance I believe our happiness will yet be secured. By his power I have been enabled to visit you in your dungeon in the shape of a mouse, in order that I might convey to you some information which is quite necessary to your safety."
"But who is this powerful friend?" asked Zac, when, having returned her caress, he found words to express his feelings.
"He is Canetto, the Prince of the Forest Mannikins," replied Belinda; "and having been a near relative of my dear mother's, he is very well disposed towards me."
"What then am I to do?" asked the boy. "For, shut up, as I am, in this horrid dungeon, it seems to me that nobody can do anything for me, unless indeed they would change me into a mouse, that I might pass out by the same hole as that by which you entered."
"That," said Belinda, "might doubtless be a very good plan, but it is not the one which I am directed to follow. You must know that our friend, all-powerful in the forest, has elsewhere bounds and limits to his power, the reasons and degree of which you and I cannot understand. It is for this cause that he does not come here at once and deliver you from the dungeon; but, though he does not attempt this, he will give you such help as shall assuredly procure your deliverance in due time. He bade me tell you that you will certainly be taken out of this place to-morrow, when the king will advise with his council what to do with you. Be firm—though this I need scarcely tell you: if they give you your choice of death, or if they offer you one wish before you die, choose to be killed in the forest, under the shadow of the trees near my foster-mother's cottage, and if they grant that wish the rest will be easy. If (as is of course possible) they offer you no choice at all in the matter, you must pronounce the magic word which alone can prevent them harming you, but with which you are invulnerable."
"And what may that word be?" anxiously inquired Zac.
"It is not an easy one," replied the princess, "but as I may only say it twice, listen very carefully whilst I do so, that you may remember it well, since the least mistake might be attended with disastrous consequences. The word is—'Ballykaluphmenonabababandleby."
"What?" exclaimed Zac in a horrified voice; upon which the princess repeated the word again very slowly; but, though it doubtless appears very easy to the reader, it completely puzzled poor Zac. He shook his head mournfully—
"If it depends uponthat," said he, "the game is up—I should never be able to pronounce that word, if I waited till apples grow on peach trees."
"I am very sorry," answered the princess in a sorrowful voice, "but you see I can only tell you what Canetto toldme, and we must hope for the best. But now it is time for me to be off, for if I am not back at the palace soon, my absence will be discovered, and I may be exposed to unpleasant questions." So saying, she once more embraced the boy, and then, approaching the hole, muttered some words which the mannikin king had, no doubt, told her, and in another moment became once more a mouse, and vanished from his sight.
The interview had somewhat encouraged Zac, although he had fearful misgivings about the magic word, which, strange to say, appeared to him both long and difficult. However, he resolved to make the best of it; and having finished his loaf of bread and pitcher of water, lay down on some straw which he found in the corner of his room, and fell fast asleep. In the morning he was awakened by a surly gaoler, who brought him a fresh loaf and some more water, of which he partook with all the relish of a good appetite. Not long after this, he heard the noise of persons descending the steps which led to his dungeon, and presently the door was thrown open, and a guard appeared, whose orders were to conduct the prisoner once more before the king.
Fridolin was sitting in his chair of state, surrounded by his courtiers; and near him stood the two elder princesses, with downcast eyes and cheeks suffused with modest blushes.
When the boy was brought in, the king frowned angrily upon him, and shook his royal fist in a threatening manner.
"Well, you young villain!" he cried; "have you passed the night bewailing your sins, and making ready for the death which certainly awaits you?"
"My lord king," answered the boy, with uplifted head and undaunted eye, "I have done no wrong against you or yours, and I deserve no death at your hands."
"What?" cried the king in a rage. "Didst thou not admit thy crime yesterday? Art thou not guilty of the charge brought against thee by our daughters?"
"Sire," replied the boy, "I said yesterday, and I say again, that I will not deny any statement made by these noble ladies."
"This is nonsense," said the king; "this is mere quibbling—again he admits his guilt. What shall we do with him? I say death!"
The courtiers all immediately said death too, as they would with equal unanimity have said anything else if their sovereign had happened to say it instead.
"Well, then," rejoined the king, "by what death shall he die? What say you, Lord Pompous?"
"Boil him," promptly replied the lord chamberlain, who was quite taken aback at being thus suddenly addressed, and who was at the moment thinking of a turkey which he had ordered for dinner, and with which he confused the prisoner at the moment.
"Pompous, you are a fool!" shouted the king.
"As your majesty pleases," responded the old man, with a low obeisance; and Fridolin went on to ask other opinions, which were all given with a guarded reservation, that they were subject to his majesty thinking the same, and if not, were no opinions at all.
"I think," said Fridolin presently, "that the pit of adders is the best place for him."
"Just so, sire."
"Exactly what we thought."
"The very thing," were the muttered exclamations which immediately passed round.
At this moment, Amabilia, rushed forward and threw herself at her father's feet.
"Oh, no! dear father," she cried in piteous tones; "notsuch a dreadful fate as that, poor boy. Pray be more merciful, formysake."
Fridolin raised her affectionately from the ground.
"Well, well," he said, "have it your own way, my queenly girl; he shallnotbe thrown into the adder-pit if you have the slightest objection. Gentlemen," he continued, turning to his council, "what say you to the honey torture, and giving the wasps and bees and flies a treat?"
"Very good, your Majesty;" "Just the proper punishment for his crime," and similar observations, again proceeded from the crowd of sycophants.
But at this instant Concaterina jumped up and performed precisely the same feat as that of her sister. Throwing herself upon her knees, she clasped those of her father, and begged him not to subject poor Zac to such a dreadful fate.
"All right," said the king, to whom nothing was so disagreeable as to see his daughters cry, which Concaterina was beginning to do, and that copiously. "He shall not die thus, if you don't wish it, my beauty; but what in the name of all that is wonderful do you want me to do with the fellow, if I am not to execute him according to the regular punishments of the country?"
Now both the princesses had begun to be sorry for Zac; for on calmer reflection they had come to the conclusion that it was rather hard that he should die so young, and die, too, for keeping his faith which he had plighted to a lady. True, he was a horrid fool for not preferring one of them; but then fidelity was a virtue, and a rare one, and he punished himself by preferring a plain—not to say ugly—wife to a beauty. They would have been quite content to have given him a little more taste of dungeon life, and then let him off, and all this talk about killing him did not at all chime in with their ideas. Still, they had raised the storm, and, as other people in a similar position have often discovered, knew not how to allay it. If they recommended Zac's pardon, they feared that their father would begin to doubt whether he had really committed any offence at all. So they hung their heads and said nothing, whilst Zac turned upon them a grateful look for having saved him from two such unpleasant alternatives as those which had been suggested.
After the king had pondered a minute, he struck violently at Lord Pompous' toe with his sceptre, and gave vent to his usual exclamation when excited by a sudden idea—"I've hit it!" which, fortunately for the lord chamberlain, was in this instance untrue.
"The prisoner," continued the king, "shall choose his own death and the place of his execution. Thus shall we blend mercy with justice, and maintain our royal reputation for both."
On hearing these gracious words, the courtiers naturally turned their eyes up to the heavens in admiration of such a display of elevated feeling; and Lord Pompous looked wiser than ever, though he instinctively edged a little further off from his august sovereign.
The latter now turned to Zac and demanded of him what death he would choose to die, and where it should take place; calling upon him, at the same time, to take notice of the clemency with which he was treated.
Although this did not strike Zac very forcibly, he was exceedingly glad that matters had fallen out in this way, especially since his treacherous memory had already completely forgotten the magic word, which might otherwise have been his only chance of escape. He therefore lost no time in answering the king's question.
"May it please your majesty," he said, "since my death is resolved upon, I should like to be shot in the breast, so that I may stand face to face with my executioners. For the place, I should like to be taken down to the forest, where of old I kept my father's pigs, a simple boy knowing nothing of palaces and princesses, which have brought me to this. These were the scenes of my happy childhood. There let me end my short life."
When the boy had finished speaking, Amabilia and Concaterina both burst into tears, and would have interceded once more with their royal parent, but the stern frown which he wore on his countenance restrained them from so doing.
Fridolin directed that preparations should be made for the execution within two hours of that time, and that all his court should be summoned to it. It was to take place in a large open space upon the edge of the forest, not far from the shepherd's cottage; and, in consequence of the magnitude of the crime, and the exalted position which the criminal had lately occupied as the affianced husband of one of the king's daughters, the executioners were to be composed of members of the nobility, all of whom were ordered to draw lots by which it should be decided who should undertake this duty. Some little delay was caused by the name of Lord Pompous being first drawn, who was known to entertain a rooted aversion to fire-arms. This being properly represented to the king, and also the extreme probability that the lord chamberlain would in his confusion certainly shoot the wrong man, his majesty was graciously pleased to allow the name to be set aside, and twelve others selected. This done, and all the other arrangements completed, the royal party set forth at the proper time, and came to the spot which had been selected for the execution.
The two princesses who had been the cause of all this were by this time plunged into the deepest distress, for they had never really intended it to go so far, and thought that Zac would probably have been brought to his knees and his senses before this, and would have been pardoned on condition of his marrying one of them. They had not taken into account the necessity of satisfying offended royalty, and that their father, insulted as he believed himself to have been through them, could not possibly pass the matter over without taking summary vengeance on the culprit.
Nobody had thought anything of Belinda; but, to the surprise of many of the party, she emerged from the door of her foster-mother's cottage, leaning upon the old woman's arm, and apparently overwhelmed with grief.
When the prisoner had been brought forward, the king in a loud voice declared to the people what his crime had been, and what was to be his punishment.
Then Zac, in a firm, calm tone, spoke to the crowd in these words. "I have only one thing to answer to what is brought against me. I was betrothed to the Princess Belinda, and I have been loyal and true to her ever since my betrothal."
Before any one could prevent her, Belinda here suddenly sprang forward with an agility of which no one believed her capable, and threw herself into Zac's arms, exclaiming at the same time—"I believe you, my own Zac; let us die together."
The crowd began to murmur. The king began to waver. The elder sisters cried still more bitterly at the sight of such devotion. There was a moment's hesitation, and a hope that Fridolin might relent from his cruel purpose; when at that very moment a loud, hissing noise was heard, and the figure of a little old woman, long past middle age and without the slightest pretensions to beauty, came driving into the middle of the crowd in a car drawn by pole-cats, whilst upon and around her twined numerous snakes and adders, who hissed in such a threatening manner at the crowd that the latter parted right and left in every direction, and made way for her to advance within a very short distance of the spot upon which stood the royal party and the prisoner.
Every eye was at once turned upon the new-comer, who waved her hand in an imperious manner, and looked round with an eye accustomed to command. As soon as it was evident she was about to speak, the snakes and adders left off hissing, and there was a dead silence throughout the whole body of people present. The old woman's voice was not melodious—rather the contrary, in fact—but she spoke clearly enough, and there was not the slightest difficulty in understanding her meaning.
"I am the fairy Nuisancenika," she said, "and I reign, as many of you may possibly know, over the Plain country. Having been particularly busy lately in inventing a new kind of adder whose bite shall be beyond the power of any antidote, I had not heard of the event which has been appointed for to-day. As soon as Ididhear, I determined to come and witness a righteous act performed by my old friend, King Fridolin.
"It is now some years ago since I avenged him upon his abominable wife, whom I always detested, and who fortunately gave me power over her by driving over my best viper in my own country. My vengeance, however, was not satisfied by her death. Although I had no power over her elder daughters, I was enabled to endow the last child with certain defects and deformities which it is pleasant to me to find have been rather increased than lessened by time. But if this girl gets a good and loving husband, these things will cease to trouble her, and I shall be robbed of one half my revenge. The low-born person she has chosen for her husband would be beneath my notice but that she has fixed her affections upon him. That is enough for me. He must die; and, when Fridolin considers that this fellow has insulted his elder and beautiful daughters, I cannot doubt that he will be of my opinion, and direct that the sentence be carried out without further delay."
She ceased; and a dead silence prevailed for a few seconds.
Then Fridolin turned sharply to Pompous. "Lord chamberlain, what had I better do?"
"What your majesty deems best under the circumstances," responded the high functionary thus addressed.
"Pompous, you are a fool," retorted the king, angrily.
"If your majesty please to say so," replied the courtier, with a low bow, and once more the sovereign had to think for himself. "There is much force, madam, in what you advance upon this subject," he remarked to the fairy.
"If there had not been I should not have taken the trouble to advance it," answered she. "Do not make fool of yourself by pretending to doubt as to what you ought to do. Have the young man shot directly, unless you prefer that I should let my adders loose upon him."
Scarcely were these words out of her mouth, when a clear, flute-like voice was heard ringing through the assembly. "Who talks of letting loose adders inmycountry?"
The people looked up and beheld a little man in a dark green coat, velveteen waistcoat, and white corduroys, coming out of the forest with a hunting-whip in his hand, which he leisurely flicked about as he walked towards the royal party.
But this strange figure was not alone. There trooped after him, three and three at a time, a whole regiment of little men, all dressed in green, and apparently belonging to the first comer. They had also whips, but kept them quiet, whilst they gradually increased in number, until there were really more than you could have easily counted.
"I say!" repeated the little man in the same voice. "Who talks of letting loose adders inmycountry?"
"Yourcountry?" asked Fridolin indignantly. "It ismine!"—but he was checked by the fairy, who put him aside at once, telling him that his claim was not disputed, but had nothing to do with the question.
"Yourcountry?" she asked of the little man. "I like that! why you know quite well it ismine, and has been for ages."
"I beg your pardon," said the other.
"I begyours," retorted the fairy. "What do you mean by your mannikin impudence? It is my country, and I mean to have the prince killed, and settle once for all with this last child of your doll-faced cousin."
"Not so fast, madam," replied the little man, calmly. "It has never been disputed that my kingdom—that is, the forest territory—includes all the land within the limits of the forest, and the forest is held by our greatest fairy lawyers, beyond all doubt, to mean all the land upon and within which trees grow which are not separated from the bulk of the forest by any fence. Cast your eyes behind you and you will see that within the last few years, whilst you have been breeding adders, and I have been hunting and travelling, King Fridolin has planted largely, and those chestnut plantations, stretching from the forest on the extreme right, quite across to the fringe of forest on the left, have enclosed every yard of ground on which we are standing to-day, and have rendered it beyond all doubt, part and parcel of the forest territory, and consequently my country."
The fairy Nuisancenika looked right and left, and her countenance fell considerably.
"Upon my word," she said, reluctantly, "I believe you are right. I had overlooked those plantations. I don't know that I have any right to interfere—I have given my advice—perhaps I had better go—" and she took her whip up as if to lash her polecats forward.
"Stop!" cried the little man in a clear, strong voice. "There are two words to that bargain: those who enter the forest territory cannot quit it without my permission!" So saying, he made a sign to his mannikins, who immediately formed a ring, several deep, around the fairy and the whole royal party. Then the little man made a courteous bow to Fridolin, and proceeded as follows:
"Do not think for a moment, King Fridolin," he said, "that any usurpation of your rights is intended by my claim, undoubted as it is, to sovereignty over this forest country. It is yours as kingdoms are reckoned among mortals, and mine is a species of power which will never clash with your authority. But you have several things to learn to-day which it would have been well for you if you had learned before. I am Canetto, king like yourself, and cousin to your late lamented wife. Your conduct to her would be perfectly inexcusable if it had not been that your mind was poisoned and you were utterly deceived by this vilest of wicked fairies, Nuisancenika."
"'Tis false, villain!" shrieked this person, on finding herself alluded to in this uncomplimentary manner.
"Hag!" replied Canetto, with a glance of wrath at her, "I should be sorry to be obliged to proceed at once to extremities, but another such interruption will expose you to the violent probability of being whipped to death with your own adders immediately."
The fairy made a gesture of impotent wrath, and gnashed her teeth savagely while the mannikin thus continued:
"The letters, king, which you believed to have been written by Queen Rosetta, were all forged by this wretch, and written upon paper which she had stolen from my poor cousin. She it was, moreover, who poisoned the queen by viper-broth, and caused Belinda to be deformed and afflicted as you see her. Fortunately, she was powerless to deprave her mind, or debase her intellect, and you are happy in the possession of such a daughter. But this wrinkled old sinner was not content with this mischief. She it is who has been endeavouring to sow dissension in your family, first, by putting it into the heads of both your elder daughters to try and take away their sister's promised husband, and next, by hardening your heart and preventing your showing mercy when all your children would desire you to do so. But for this she has a reason beyond her hatred of Rosetta, which has lasted even after her death. Did you hear her mention the word 'prince' just now in speaking of Zac? Well, Zacisa prince!"
Here all three of the princesses started, and the two elder screamed aloud.
"Yes!" continued Canetto, "that which I tell you is quite true, surprising though it be. Zac's father is a powerful monarch, the king of the country of the Red Camellias, which lies beyond my forest. Having a spite against the king, this vile sorceress stole the boy at an early age, and left him at a spot where he was found and taken home by Farmer Dickson, who will verify all that I say. By my magic art I knew this, but as I could do little or nothing beyond my forest, I thought it best to keep quiet. Now, however, you know the secret of Zac's gentle manners and general good behaviour, which, whenever you observe in a boy, you may be perfectly sure that he is either the son of a king, or of somebody else. The continuous and cruel hatred of Nuisancenika has carried her to such a pitch, that she has come here to-day to gratify her vengeance, and feast her murderous old eyes upon the death of this poor boy, and the sufferings of your youngest daughter. Her first punishment, therefore, shall be to witness something precisely the reverse."
Then turning to Zac he touched his fetters with the hunting-whip which he held in his hand, when they immediately fell off. He next raised the whip and laid the lash lightly across Belinda's shoulders, at the same time pronouncing the words—"Marlika, Marlika, humphty cambia," which all the world knows to be Mannikin expressions of vast power. In this instance their effect was both instantaneous and marvellous. Belinda's hump fell off, formed itself into a round ball like a cannon ball; bounded up, hit the wicked Fairy a tremendous blow in the chest which knocked her backwards for a moment, and then utterly disappeared. But this was not nearly all. Every defect in the young princess's form and features vanished as if by magic, and she stood before the king, tall, upright, straight as an arrow, and blushing in all the pride of conscious beauty. At this moment, I am glad to say that Amabilia and Concaterina, instead of showing any jealous feeling at a change which really made their younger sister more charming than themselves, gave vent to loud exclamations of joy, and rushed to congratulate and embrace her. The latter ceremony had already been performed by Zac, and all the royal family began to shed tears of happiness together.
But Fridolin had buried his face in his hands, and when he lifted up his head, the marks of deep sorrow were set upon his features. "Oh, my Rosetta!" he cried, in bitter anguish. "My lost and loved Rosetta! my only love! my noble queen!" and as he spoke he swung his right arm violently round in the extremity of his grief, catching Lord Pompous full upon the nose with his fist, and causing it to bleed profusely.
"Do not grieve so much," observed Canetto with a smile; "look behind you and see what is to be seen."
The king turned and perceived a lady of great beauty and stately mien slowly advancing from the shepherd's cottage.
"'Tis she! 'Tis she!" he shrieked at the top of his voice, hit Lord Pompous a tremendous blow on the third button of his waistcoat, which doubled him up in no time, and with another cry of "Rosetta!" rushed into the arms of his long lost wife.
"You see," said Canetto, still smiling, "Adder-broth is not so deadly but what the forest has an antidote. Although I could not disclose it until now, and even pretended to Belinda that her mother had died during my absence, it was not so. By my magic art I contrived that you should bury a waxen figure instead of your queen, whom I safely conveyed to the forest. Had I not seen that you really repented of your sins against her, and was I not captivated by Belinda's goodness, I really think I should never have let you have her again. But, since she wishes to return to you and to her children, I have agreed that it shall be so. Take care you treat her well and tenderly for the future.
"The royal family were now full of joy, and even Amabilia and Concaterina came in for their share of good luck, for the King of the Mannikins chucked each of them pleasantly under the chin, told them that he knew they were good girls at heart, and promised that both should have royal husbands before they were twenty. Then he turned to the fairy Nuisancenika with a dark frown upon his countenance.
"Miserable reprobate!" he exclaimed, apparently taking particular delight in finding new epithets applicable to the old woman. "It only remains now to deal with you. During an existence now prolonged to an extent greater than that which any person kindly disposed towards mankind could have wished, you have done an infinite quantity of mischief. You have had considerable power, which you have consistently employed as badly as possible. You are a pitiless, revengeful, remorseless, black-hearted old hag. And now at last you are completely in my power. Nothing can save you."
"Oh, mercy, mercy, dear, good King Canetto!" piteously whined the fairy, as she crouched down in her car.
"Such mercy as you showed Rosetta and Belinda, and such as you wished to show Zac. Such, I say, and no more, shall be your own portion. And now for the first scene of the last act. Kill the polecats!"
He turned to his mannikins as he said this, and in another moment every polecat was knocked on the head.
"Now for the adders," said Canetto; and the little men cut them to pieces with their whips in less time than you would have thought possible.
Then the king turned to Nuisancenika and spoke again.
"I might have you dealt with in the same way," he said; "and if I did so, there is no one present who would not warmly approve and say, 'served her right.' But a true mannikin is never bloodthirsty, and I will not adjudge to you that fate which you so richly deserve. Still, since your power has been always exercised for ill, it must remain to you no longer. I sentence you to be immediately and henceforth confined in a cave at the extreme eastern corner of the world, never to emerge thence until the hour comes when women leave off caring for dress, men labour no more for power, and donkeys abandon braying."
Scarcely had Canetto finished speaking, when the unfortunate being, upon whom he had pronounced this appalling sentence, uttered one frantic yell, and then disappeared in a whirlwind, which carried her right away over the forest. Nobody ever saw or heard of her again to my knowledge, but there is very little doubt that the sentence of the King of the Mannikins was duly carried out. The wise men, who have studied these things carefully, say that there is very clear and certain proof of this. In the spring-time of the year, especially about March, a cold, bitter, spiteful wind blows from the east, seizes delicate throats and tender noses, keeps people indoors when they much desire air and exercise; and if they attempt to get either, afflicts them with heavy colds, and what modern doctors call "bronchial affections," meaning much the same thing as that which our poor benighted fathers and mothers used to call "sore throats." Well, do you think this east wind is a common, ordinary, respectable wind? Not at all. It is nothing more nor less (say these wise ones) than the wicked old Fairy Nuisancenika, who, heartily tired of her imprisonment in the cavern, fumes and rages madly about, and sometimes gets near enough to the mouth of the cave to spit and blow out some of her venom into the world. Then comes disease to man and beast, and whenever I think of it I regret that Canetto did not serve the wretched old hag as he did her polecats and adders, and direct his mannikins to cut her in pieces with their hunting-whips. Just fancy if he had! Perhaps we should have had no more of those cruel east winds. But it was fated otherwise, and this is the result.
At all events, the bad fairy was comfortably got rid of so far as the royal family of King Fridolin were concerned, and there is very little more to be said about the rest that followed. Of course everything now went rightly. Messages were sent to Zac's real father—the story of Canetto having been entirely confirmed by Farmer Dickson—and the result was in every respect satisfactory. The king of the country of the Red Camellias was delighted to recover his long lost son, and showed his sense of what was right and proper under the circumstances by dying shortly after the wedding of Zac and Belinda had been duly celebrated. The young prince consequently conveyed his lovely and loving bride to his own country, where they reigned for many years in great happiness and prosperity.
Amabilia and Concaterina, having a mother's influence to guide them, improved daily in every respect, and had no difficulty whatever in securing royal husbands within the time prophesied by Canetto, whose courts they adorned by their beauty and whose homes they made happy by their domestic virtues.
As for King Fridolin, he passed the evening of his days more happily than any other part of his life. Conscious of his former folly, he learned to appreciate his restored queen as she deserved, and their renewed affection for each other was romantic in its strength and fervour. Canetto paid them occasional visits, and was always received by them with that respect and regard which his conduct had so well earned. Everything flourished thenceforward in Fridolin's kingdom. Even Lord Pompous hailed the change with delight, since his sovereign, occupied constantly in the enjoyment of his newly recovered happiness, omitted the practical jokes upon his lord chamberlain with which he had frequently been wont to solace his idle hours. And during the long years that followed before Fridolin's reign and life ended, the king constantly called to mind the thrilling scenes of interest which I have recounted, and invariably spoke with the greatest thankfulness of the happy thought which came into his head upon that memorable day when he first projected the pig-race.
There was once a little girl who was exceedingly fond of fairy tales. She had read almost all the books that had ever been written about fairies and elves, and never lost an opportunity of hearing a story upon the same subject. The result of so much attention to this particular branch of study was that which might have been expected. She became the most devout believer in the existence of the dear little creatures about whom she read, and had no greater desire than that she might some day or other become personally acquainted with one or more of them.
Her chief regret was caused by the fact (which was, unhappily, too true) that no fairy godmother had presided over her birth, and that none of those pleasant adventures had befallen her which usually follow such an event. Not only was this the case, but, so far as she could ascertain, neither her father, mother, or any of her relations had ever come in contact with a fairy, and she had been, little by little, driven to the conclusion that she belonged to a commonplace, unromantic family, with whom the dwellers in fairyland had no concern and no connection whatever.
This was a sad thought to the child, who was possessed of an extremely lively imagination, and would have liked nothing better than to have lived in those good old days when either a fairy or a witch, an ogre or a dwarf, were to be found at every corner. She looked back to those days with fond delight, and often wished that they might come again. She loved to muse over the tales she had read and heard, and to imagine curious scenes and strange creatures on every side of her, as she rambled through the shrubberies around her father's house, or strolled away into the great woods on one side of the park.
One day she had taken a longer stroll than usual, and suddenly came upon a part of the wood which she never remembered to have seen before. Somehow or other, she had strayed out of the path, and all around her were tangled masses of fern, old pollard-trees bowed down to the ground by age and the weight of their branches, and thickets of thorns and brambles, and here and there patches of smooth grass and moss, without either trees, fern or brambles upon them.
The birds were singing sweetly in the wood, the sun was shining brightly in the heavens above (although his rays could not penetrate the dense foliage of the trees), the dewdrops were glistening on the leaves, and everything seemed as beautiful as human eye could behold or human heart desire. The child looked around her for a moment, entranced with the loveliness of the scene; then she heaved a deep sigh (too deep, you would have thought, for so young a creature, who could hardly as yet have sorrows heavy enough to cause such a sigh), and said to herself with a sorrowful air:
"What a place this would be for my fairy godmother to meet me, if only Ihada fairy godmother! Heigho! Why are there not any fairies here?"
Scarcely had she spoken when she started back astonished, for the speech was hardly out of her mouth than the concluding word, "fairies here," seemed repeated by a myriad of tiny voices all round her, in tones so soft, so plaintive, and dying away with such a melancholy cadence that it needed no great amount of cleverness to assure the child that they came from no ordinary or mortal throats.
For an instant she trembled, but it was more with expectation than fear, and she looked around her with eager eyes, to the right and left, longing to see the beings who had uttered those soft and touching sounds. She saw nothing, however, and began to fear that, after all, she would hear and see no more, and that nobody at home would believe her when she told of the mysterious voices. But, being a child of courage, and remembering, moreover, that in most of the fairy tales of which she knew, the mortal to whom the kind fairies condescended to speak or appear, was never frightened, but always did exactly the right thing, unless he or she happened to be wicked, when they invariably did thewrongthing and suffered accordingly. So she looked round once again, and then said, in her most polite tones:
"Are therereallyany fairies here?"
Scarcely were the words out of her mouth, when the same sounds arose once more, even more distinctly than before, on every side of her. This time, however, there was something more than sound. The fern and the trees, the brambles and the leaves, all seemed to be suddenly agitated as if by the wind swaying gently through them, though there was not a breath of wind in the air.
There was one universal rustling all round, and the next moment Evelyn (for that was the little girl's name) saw that she was standing in the middle of a crowd of living, moving, active beings, who looked out upon her from every corner of the place. Every leaf seemed tenanted by one of them; each stem of fern appeared to afford cover, every thicket to give protection to a small creature: they were perched on the trees above her head, and peeped out from the tufts of moss almost beneath her feet. Bright restless eyes seemed to peer eagerly out upon her on all sides, and in an instant she knew that her long-cherished hopes and dreams were at last realized, and that she was in the presence of undeniable fairies.
Although Evelyn had read so many fairy tales, and had so often fancied herself in the position she now was, and settled what she ought to do and say in such case, it must be confessed that when the reality came thus suddenly upon her, she was as much at a loss as if she had never read or thought anything at all about the subject.
She stood still and stared with eyes wide open with astonishment, just as any child would naturally do under similar circumstances. The little beings about her had nothing in their appearance or demeanour at all likely to frighten her. They were neither ugly in feature, deformed in figure, or evil in the expression of their faces. On the contrary they were graceful, beautiful, and looked remarkably good-natured. Very little they certainly were, for none of them could have been above a foot high, and very numerous also, for, turn her head which way she would, the whole place seemed alive with them.
Evelyn stood, as I have said, perfectly silent, and looked about her as if struck dumb with surprise at the unlooked-for appearance of the little creatures. She had not long to wait before one of them hopped lightly from the stem of a venerable hornbeam hard by, and stood immediately in front of her.
It was a charming little figure that did this: barely a foot high, but of a form perfectly symmetrical, a face bright with exceeding beauty, and with an air of nobility conspicuous in its features, and, indeed, in its whole bearing. It was dressed in some light drapery, which floated around it in such a manner as to add to instead of concealing, the beauty of its faultless form, and, as it stood erect before Evelyn, she thought she had never seen anything so exquisitely beautiful in the whole course of her existence.