The Feather

‘Well, fifteen shillings is three crowns, and you haven’t got one.’

‘Yes, I have.’

‘Well, then, you won’t have it long.’

‘I shall have it to the end of my life.’

‘Not if I can help it,’ retorted the Prince.

‘But you can’t help it.’

‘Why not, pray?’

‘Well, you can’t, unless you scalp me, – it’s the crown of my head I mean.’

‘Well, then, I’ll have your head cut off.’

‘I shall die then, so I shall keep the crown until I die. Besides, I shall have your head cut off instead, for I’ll call out the soldiers.’

‘That’s no good. They’re all on my side,’ answered the Prince.

‘Then it’s all up with me. As Julius Cæsar says – let’s see, what did he say, now? – ah yes!’ and he began to roar ‘A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!’

‘You’ll make yourself hoarse if you go on roaring like that. Besides, your share of the kingdom isn’t worth a horse – it’s not even worth a horse-chestnut.’

‘That’s rather old,’ said the King. ‘However, what are you going to do with me?’

‘I’m going to turn you into what you wanted to turn my father into. You shall have his cottage and all the live-stock and implements thereto appertaining.’

‘What does that mean?’ asked the astonished Mumkie.

‘Oh, find out,’ said the Prince. And he found out eventually.

The Prince now gave orders that he should be taken to the coal-cellar and locked in there for fear of escape. And so the poor old man was led off, muttering to himself, ‘Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.’

But the Prince answered:

‘Well, you needn’t talk; your head doesn’t wear a crown.’ And from that time forth it didn’t.

While this was being done, the Princess had noticed that a man had been stealing round the corner. He was standing close beside her now, and he seemed quite unconscious of her presence. The Princess looked at him.

‘He must be one of the five they brought in with them,’ she said to herself. So she counted; but to her astonishment she found there were six of them – with him.

‘He must be some one belonging to the Palace,’ she thought, ‘and he may be up to some mischief.’ So she watched him closely. It was evident that the rest thought he was one of themselves, for they took no notice of him in particular.

The man, however, seemed quite innocent; but the Princess noticed that he was fingering a pistol that he had in his belt in a most suspicious way. So she kept quite close to him while they descended the stairs to the cellars. And she was right; for, in the twinkling of a bed-post, he drew the pistol from his belt and aimed straight towards the Prince. But before he could draw the trigger, she lifted up her hand and gave him such a box on the ear that, in his astonishment and pain, he dropped the pistol altogether, and it exploded harmlessly. As for the man, he was so astonished that he sat down on the floor with his mouth and eyes wide open, looking like an expiring frog.

At the report of his pistol every one turned, and Ablot noticed him for the first time.

‘Why, who are you?’ he said.

But the man only gasped.

‘Who is he?’ asked the Prince of the men.

‘We thought he was one of us,’ they all answered in astonishment.

‘Who are you?’ asked the Prince.

But he only gasped on in silence.

‘Stick a pin into him, and see if that will bring him to.’ And a man was just going to do it when he said, in a gruff voice:

‘Don’t; I’m Wopole.’

‘Oh, you’re Wopole. And who’s he?’ asked the Prince.

‘I used to be the falconer of the late tyrant, now sojourning in the coal-hole there.’

‘Oh! and so you tried to shoot me?’

‘Not at all, your Majesty. I was only firing a royal salute to show my joy at your ascent to the throne.’

‘That’s not true,’ said the voice of the Princess, so suddenly that every one started and the falconer collapsed again.

‘I’ve a good mind to have your head cut off,’ said the Prince, who by this time had grown used to the voice. ‘However, I’ll just put you in the coal-hole along with your late master.’

Wopole having been accordingly put into the hole, everything seemed quiet; and as it was getting late, the Princess thought she would leave them. She therefore returned as fast as she could, and getting into bed slept soundly till morning.

She did not awake until long after her usual hour, for you see she was not used to being out so late, and she was only roused in the morning by the Queen knocking at the door.

‘Ernalie! Ernalie!’ she called; ‘get up. It’s half-past seven. You ought to have been up this two hours.’

She got up as fast as she could; and when she had laid the table, the King and Queen came down.

‘I wish you’d knock at Treblo’s door and tell him we’re waiting breakfast for him,’ the Queen said to Ernalie, and she accordingly went; but she couldn’t get any answer, and she went downstairs once more and told them he seemed to be out.

‘Where can he be?’ asked the King.

‘I rather think he’s gone out for a walk,’ suggested the Princess.

‘It’s funny; he usedn’t to be fond of getting up so early. Just go to the door and see if he is coming across the fields.’

Ernalie obediently went to the door, and shading her eyes from the glare of the sun, looked over the fields towards the road.

She came back quickly.

‘I can’t see him,’ she said; ‘but there’s a whole lot of people coming across the field.’

The King looked vexedly astonished.

‘What on earth do they want?’ he said. ‘It must be some fresh trick of Mumkie for bothering me.’

However, by this time the people had reached the garden gate, and they could hear a man’s step on the gravel-walk. It stopped at the door, and a knock was heard.

‘Come in,’ cried the King; and the man entered, bowing profoundly.

When the King saw who it was he looked surprised, and said:

‘Why, Lord Corax, what do you want with me?’

‘I have come to receive your Majesty’s orders,’ said the man in a singularly hoarse voice.

The King looked still more astonished.

‘My orders! What do you mean?’

‘I mean your Majesty’s orders for the management of affairs,’ said the man, with a still deeper obeisance.

A light broke on the King’s face.

‘Oh! that’s what you mean, is it?’ he said.

‘It is, your Majesty,’ answered the courtier, bowing once more.

‘It strikes me you’re rather late in the day coming here, aren’t you?’ asked his Majesty.

The courtier pulled out a large watch.

‘It is, I believe, at the present moment thirty-five and a half minutes after eight a. m., your Majesty. At eight precisely I received orders from your Majesty’s son to come hither, bringing with me your Majesty’s coach and guard of honour. Likewise a person, by name Mumkie, who is for the future to inhabit this cottage, and to enjoy the privilege of using for his own purposes all the live stock – sheep, oxen, kine, sows, pigs, cocks, hens – ’

Here the King interrupted him.

‘That is enough. Tell them to get the carriage ready for three, and send Mumkie to me.’

‘Just so, your Majesty,’ said the courtier, and departed on his errand.

When he had gone the King said to the Queen and Ernalie:

‘Now, my dears, run up and put on your best things, and, Araminta, just see if our crowns are very tarnished. We ought to make our triumphal entry in state, for we are reinstated. And, by the bye, see if you’ve got an old coronet of Treblo’s that will fit Ernalie.’

‘What for, your Majesty?’ asked Ernalie in surprise.

‘For you to wear, of course,’ said the King.

‘But what do I want with a crown? I have to stop here with Mumkie – I’m part of the live stock.’

‘Good gracious! what do you mean?’ said the King and Queen together.

‘Well, you see, the agreement between your son and Mumkie was that Mumkie should have all the live stock of the farm, and as I’m alive I suppose I’m part of the live stock.’

‘I suppose you are,’ said the King.

Just at that moment a voice was heard outside, saying:

‘May I come in?’

‘Oh yes, come in,’ said the King.

And Mumkie entered, looking very dirty and black with coal-dust, for, you see, he had spent the night in the coal-cellar. They were all very much surprised, and naturally too, and the King remarked:

‘Good-morning! Have you washed?’

Mumkie shook his head.

‘I’ve been watched – only it’s not quite the same thing, your Majesty.’

‘Well, never mind. So there’s been a revolt, has there?’

‘A revolution, sire,’ answered Mumkie.

‘Ah, well, it’s all the same. They manage these things quickly here. By the bye, what was the arrangement that my son made about this house?’

‘He said I was to have the house and all the live stock.’

‘All the live stock?’ said the King.

‘All, your Majesty.’

‘Then I’m afraid it’s all up with you, Ernalie!’

‘I’m afraid it is, your Majesty, unless your Majesty would buy me from this gentleman.’

‘Good idea! What’ll you take for her, Mumkie?’

Mumkie looked at her critically.

‘What’s your weight?’ he said to her suddenly.

‘I don’t exactly see what that has to do with it.’

‘Well, I suppose you’re good, aren’t you?’

‘Oh, very good,’ said the Princess.

‘She’s as good as gold,’ said the Queen.

‘Just so,’ said Mumkie. ‘That’s why I wanted to know her weight. You see, I’ll sell her to you for her weight in gold.’

The King put his hand in his pocket, and drew out his purse and looked into it.

‘Will you take threepence-farthing on account?’ he said.

But Mumkie shook his head.

‘We only take ready money here, or pay on delivery.’

‘Then I suppose the only thing to do is to go to the Palace and fetch the money. Good-bye till then, Ernalie.’

So Ernalie kissed the King and Queen, and watched them go down the garden walk to the carriage, and saw them get in. The guard of honour fired a royal salute, and they drove off at a gallop. But Ernalie turned back into the house where Mumkie was awaiting her.

‘I’ve got a friend coming here to-day, shortly, and I don’t want to have our conversation overheard, so when he comes you cut your stick. Go and perform some wholesome menial function – clean the plates. Understand? And don’t you listen at the door, miss.’

‘I am not in the habit of listening at doors, and you’d better call me “your Royal Highness,” if you please.’

‘And why, your Royal Highness?’

‘Because I’m a Princess.’

‘Oh, you are! Then, I suppose, you’re a foreigner? And they have a custom here with foreigners of boiling them alive. How would you like that, your Royal Highness?’

‘You daren’t do it,’ said the Princess; but all the same she felt rather frightened. Just then a knock came at the door.

‘That’s Wopole,’ said Mumkie, ‘so your Royal Highness may take yourself off, and if I catch you listening at the door I’ll skin you alive.’

‘I never listen at doors,’ said the Princess. But she thought to herself: ‘I listen inside the room sometimes, though.’ And she ran upstairs to fetch her feather. She got it very quickly, and ran downstairs as lightly as possible. They had shut the door of the room, but she opened it boldly, and stepped in as quietly as she could. Mumkie looked up, as if he expected to see some one come in; but of course he did not.

‘It’s the wind, I suppose,’ said Wopole. ‘Anyhow, you’d better shut it. Some one might be listening.’

So Mumkie got up and shut it, and then went back to his seat again.

‘You say you can’t try to murder this Prince again?’ he said.

Wopole shook his head.

‘It’s no good. I tried last night, and I got such a box on my ear that I was half killed.’

‘But who gave it to you?’

‘How on earth should I know? I could see nobody. Just as I was raising the pistol to shoot – bang! it came. I wouldn’t try it again for anything.’

‘What a nuisance it is that you let that feather fall out of the eagle’s tail. You could have done it easily then. As it is, I don’t know what to do. You won’t try again, and I’m too old, and no one else in the country would hurt him for love or money. There’s only one other thing to do, and it’s not an easy task, anyway.’

‘Oh, never mind the ease or difficulty. If it’s possible to be done, I’ll do it.’

‘Then I’ll tell you. You’ll have to cut his thread of life.’

‘Really, and what with?’

‘Oh, anything you like. The trouble is to get to the place where they’re kept.’

‘Oh! and where is that?’

‘They’re kept by three old women who live in the moon. They’re called the Fates.’

‘And how am I to get to the moon?’

‘That’s just it. You’ll have to take a boat one evening at six, and if you sail straight towards the moon while she is visible, and anchor when she is out of sight, in three weeks and two days you will reach the end of the sea, where the moon touches at night, and then you can get out of the boat; and take care to haul it up out of reach of the sea, or else it’ll be carried off, and you won’t be able to get back to the earth again.’

‘And when I’ve got to the moon what am I to do?’

‘The moon’s not a very large place, although it’s certainly larger than it looks from the earth. There are five people who live in the moon. One is the man in the moon, the rest are all women; these are three Fates, who sit twisting the threads of life into one large rope, and besides that there’s Diana; but she keeps to herself, and never troubles about the other four. When you touch the shore you’ll see the man in the moon. He’s a wrinkled old man, who carries a bundle of sticks and a lanthorn. When you meet him, give him a loaf of bread to pacify him, for the moon being made of green cheese they have nothing else to eat, and so they’re very fond of bread to eat with it. Ask him the way to the Miss Parkers – those are the three Fates. He’ll show you in reward for the bread, and then you’ll see the house. Knock at the door, and when it’s opened, slip in. The Fates are blind, and won’t see you. When you get in you’ll see a lot of reels of silver threads. Among them you’ll see his thread. You’ll know it by the label on the reel. Cut that and those of the King and Queen, and then come back again as soon as you like.’

‘Very well, then; when shall I start?’ asked Wopole.

‘When you will.’

‘Will to-morrow evening do?’

‘Yes, quite well.’

‘Very well, I’ll start to-morrow evening about eight. In the meantime, I must see about getting food, as I’m not a fasting man.’

‘Very well, do.’

Just then came a knock at the door, and Wopole said:

‘Well, I suppose it’s settled. I shall open the door and see who’s knocking.’

‘Yes, do. I suppose it’s some one come to buy this Princess.’

‘Oh, is it?’ and Wopole went to open the door.

The Princess meanwhile quietly slipped upstairs and took the feather out. In a few moments she heard a voice calling her, and she went down. She found the Prince with the other two in the little parlour.

‘Good-morning, Ernalie,’ he said; and she answered, ‘Good-morning.’

‘This absurd man,’ the Prince went on, ‘insists that you shall be weighed, although I offered him two thousand ounces of gold; and I’m sure you don’t weigh that. However, he will have you weighed, and it can’t be helped.’

‘I suppose it can’t,’ said the Princess.

So she was weighed. It doesn’t matter what she did weigh, but it was less than two thousand ounces. The Prince ordered the two men whom he had brought with him as bearers of the gold, to stop and see it properly weighed out, and then he set out with the Princess for the town.

‘I thought you wouldn’t mind there not being an escort,’ he said apologetically; ‘but all the people about the Palace are busy preparing for a festival.’

The Princess said she didn’t mind at all.

She had not had much time to think about what she had heard Wopole and Mumkie say, nevertheless she determined to tell the Prince all she had heard.

When he had listened to it all, he laughed.

‘Ah, well, if that’s all I’ve got to fear I’m quite safe. He’s sure to get drowned if he tries,’ was all he said; and he refused to say anything more on the subject.

So they went quietly on till they came to a slight hill down which the road went, and from the top they could see the city shining in the morning sun.

‘It’s a very beautiful place, isn’t it?’ said the Prince.

‘Very beautiful; only my own country is far more beautiful.’

‘It must be very beautiful indeed, then. However, I suppose this is good enough for you while you are away from your own country.’

‘It’ll have to be, at any rate,’ said the Princess dismally, as they went down the hill.

They soon reached the city, and went, through crowds of bowing citizens and citizenesses, to the Palace, where they found the King and Queen anxiously awaiting them.

‘So you’ve come at last,’ the King said; ‘I was afraid that you would come to some harm with that Mumkie.’

But the Princess laughed.

‘Oh no,’ she said; ‘I’m quite able to take care of myself and of other people too; and while I was in the house I heard something of great importance.’ And she proceeded to tell them what she had heard.

But when she had finished, the King laughed even more than his son had done.

‘Why, my dear little girl,’ he said, ‘do you believe all that rigmarole? They were having a joke at your expense. They must have heard you outside the door and wanted to frighten you. Don’t you think of such rubbish. Why, if they tried it on alone they’d get swallowed up in a storm; and I’m sure none of my people would ever help them.’

But the Princess did not feel at all convinced, all the same.

‘You might just as well have them put in prison, and then they couldn’t do anything.’

But the King shook his head.

‘That’s just it, you see; I’ve only just let them go, and I can’t put them into prison unless they’ve committed some fresh crime.’

‘But isn’t it treason to compass the death of the King or his eldest son?’

‘It is; but then it’s such a foolish scheme that no one would believe any one capable of inventing it. So we’d better leave it alone.’

But still the Princess was not at all convinced.

‘If you won’t stop him going, I shall go with him,’ she said.

‘But he won’t take you,’ said the King.

‘He won’t be able to help it,’ said she.

‘Oh, well, have your own way, my dear,’ said the King good-naturedly; for he thought she would change her mind. But she was quite in earnest.

However, she didn’t say anything more about it, and the rest of the day went on quietly.

The old King and his son attended the council just as if nothing unusual had ever intervened between it and the last council they had held before they had been turned out. As for the Queen and Princess, they occupied themselves with choosing dresses for a grand ball that was to be given on the day after the morrow. So that the time was pretty well filled up until the evening; and as the Princess said she felt rather tired, she went out to take a walk on the sands by the sea. To tell the truth, she intended to see whether Wopole were not making preparations.

Now it so happened that the Prince, too, was going out to take an evening stroll, and so they went together; and as the town was rather full, they walked along the beach to get out of the way of the enthusiastic populace, who insisted on congratulating him on his good fortune. This is a habit of populaces, they are all fond of congratulating any one who is successful – but they never assist any one to success if they can help it. So they walked on for some time, and as the evening was approaching, turned back towards the harbour.

Now it happened that as they came round a bend of the shore they noticed a crowd assembled round one of the boats.

‘I wonder what the excitement is?’ said the Princess.

‘I don’t know, really, unless it’s some gigantic dog-fish, or perhaps they’ve found a scale of the sea-serpent. Shall we go and look at it?’

‘Yes, let us,’ said the Princess eagerly.

And so they went towards the crowd, who made way at their approach.

‘Why, it’s Wopole!’ said the Princess suddenly; and so it was.

‘What is he up to?’ asked the Prince of one of the bystanders.

‘I don’t know, your Majesty, only we saw him coming along bringing packages of things to his boat here, and we thought we’d come and see that he wasn’t up to mischief.’

The Prince then spoke to Wopole, who was looking angrily at him.

‘Well, Wopole,’ he said, ‘what are you up to now?’

‘I’m going to leave the country,’ said he angrily.

‘A good thing for the country,’ said several of the crowd. But the Prince said:

‘I’m sorry you’re going to leave us. However, I shall be glad to make you a small present before you go.’ And he felt in his coat, and after a moment’s search he drew out a minute pair of nail-scissors. ‘Perhaps these might be of some use to you. They’re very good for cutting threads of any kind. Good-day.’

And pretending not to notice his look of astonishment, he drew the Princess’s arm through his, and they walked off.

‘Why did you do that?’ asked the Princess, after they had got out of hearing.

The Prince laughed.

‘I thought it might surprise him a little,’ he said. ‘And they wouldn’t cut butter if they were heated, so he won’t do much harm with them.’

‘So you don’t mean to stop him?’

The Prince laughed.

‘No, no!’ he said; ‘why should I? He’ll never get to the moon.’

‘Then if you don’t stop him I shall go with him.’

‘I think he’ll take care that you don’t,’ retorted the Prince.

‘But he won’t be able to help himself.’

‘And why not?’

Because he won’t be able to see me.’

‘Nonsense!’

‘You may call it nonsense if you like. But do you remember some one who spoke to you last night in the square? You couldn’t see me then, and why should he stop me if he can’t see me?’

‘Good gracious! Was that you last night? How stupid of me not to recognise your voice! But you won’t go with him, will you?’

‘I shall, unless you stop him.’

‘But I promised not to stop him, and I can’t break my promise.’

‘Then I must go, that’s all. I can’t allow you and your father and mother to be killed because you’ve promised not to stop him.’

‘But, Ernalie, can’t I go instead?’

‘He wouldn’t take you, and you can’t make yourself invisible, you see.’

‘But all the same, you must not go; it’s absurd.’

‘Why?’

‘You may be drowned, or anything.’

‘If I’m drowned or anything Wopole will have to be drowned or anythinged too, so that you’ll be safe in any case.’

‘But I don’t want to be safe if you are drowned.’

‘What difference will it make to you if I’m drowned or not?’

‘Oh, Ernalie, you are too bad,’ he said earnestly. ‘Can’t you see I love you more than all the world?’

The Princess looked at him in utter astonishment.

‘You love me!’ she said, with her lips parted and the colour coming and going in her cheeks. ‘Why, whatever made you?’

And the Prince answered naturally:

‘Why, you did, of course.’

‘But you’ve not known me for more than two days.’

‘If I had known you only for two hours it would have been more than enough. You are the most beautiful girl I ever saw.’

‘Perhaps you’ve not seen many,’ said the Princess.

He took no notice of her flippant remark – he was very much in earnest.

‘I love you as much as the whole world, and a great deal besides. And don’t you love me a little in return?’

‘Well, to tell the truth, I never thought of it at all before; but now I come to think of it I do love you, and a very great deal too – if you don’t tease.’

So they prolonged the stroll indefinitely, thinking nothing about the unpleasant walking that the heavy shingle afforded, or even that it was getting very dark, and that the air was chilly with the night and the sea-foam that the wind blew against them, so that it was after supper-time by a great deal when they arrived at the Palace once more. But all that he could say would not persuade her not to go with Wopole, although she was very sorry that she could not stop. But, as she said, it was no use stopping if her love died, and if any one was to die she would be the one. Wopole was sure to die with her, so the Prince would be safe at any rate. And although the King and Queen both tried to dissuade her it made no difference. She refused to promise not to go.