“How awfully late he is. Why don’t he come?” and various other complaints of his lateness.
“But who is he?” asked the Princess of the Owl in a whisper.
“Wait, and you’ll see,” said the Owl.
Just then something peculiar happened down below—a couple of men appeared suddenly. They did not seem to come from anywhere in particular, but they were there all the same. The Princess almost screamed with astonishment, but she checked herself in time by stuffing a pocket-handkerchief into her mouth, for one of the men whom she saw was the Knight of London, and the other was Magog the King of the Magi; and the Knight of London did not seem to be on bad terms with the King of the Magi.
“You’ve come at last,” growled the old woman, in a voice something between the squeaking of a slate-pencil on a slate and the growling of a bear with a sore head.
“I couldn’t come any sooner, mother,” said the Knight of London soothingly; “you see I had to wait for her to promise to marry me.”
“Well, has she promised?” said the witch.
“Not yet.”
“Then why on earth not?”
“She said she had to wait for the consent of the Council.”
“Why didn’t you eat her?” said Magog sleepily; and then, without waiting for an answer, he curled himself up close to the fire and went to sleep.
But the old witch went on:
“Well, and what are your plans now?”
“I’m going back to-morrow morning, and I’m going to take old Magog and pretend that he’s my prisoner of war, and then the stupid old Council will say I’ve done a service to the State, and they will give me the hand of the Princess for my pains.”
“But supposing they don’t?”
“Then I shall cut them all to pieces, and kill the Princess, and make myself king by force—for you see nothing can cut through my armour, except one thing.”
“And what’s that?” asked the witch.
“Well, I don’t mind telling you, mother, because you won’t go and tell any one—it’s paper!”
“That’s a funny sort of thing to cut through armour.”
“It may be funny,” answered the Knight, “but it’s true all the same, and if the Prince of India had found it out I should not be where I am now; only he didn’t, you see.”
“So much the worse for him,” said the witch, “but is there nothing at all but paper that can cut through it?”
“Well, there is one thing that can—the beak of the Owl, to wit.”
“Tu-whoo!” suddenly cried the Owl.
The effect of this sudden cry was tremendous. The Knight clung to his mother, and cried out in a piteous voice:
“Oh mother! mother! it’s the Owl; save me!”
“How on earth can I save you if you hang on me like this?” said his mother. “Just throw some more wood on, so that we can see this Owl, and I’ll fling my broom at it, and see if that won’t bring it down.”
But the Princess leant her head to the Owl, and said:
“Dear Owl, let’s go. I’ve seen quite enough.”
And the Owl seemed to think the same, for he said:
“All right. Just get on my back again, and we’ll go.”
So she did as she was told, and no sooner had she got on his back than she fell asleep, and remembered no more until she found herself lying on her bed with the early morning sun shining through the lattice.
She rubbed her eyes in astonishment, and it seemed as if it had been all a dream. But it all was so clear on her mind, and besides she had on her riding-clothes just as she had put them on to go with the Owl.
To make herself feel more sure she said to the Owl:
“Good Owl, was it a dream?”
And the Owl shook his head, but although she asked him several times to speak she could not get the least word out of him, although he always shook his head if she asked him if it was a dream.
Just then a tremendous noise in the street made her run to the window, and there she saw the Knight of London coming up to the door, dragging the King of the Magi behind him in chains, and the people of the town were following him in an excited crowd, which caused all the noise, for they were naturally very glad to see their old enemy in chains.
The Knight rode straight up to the palace door, and when he saw the Princess at the window he smiled and said:
“Good-morning, your Majesty—you see I am returned.”
And the Princess said:
“Good-morning,” as if she were very glad to see him, for she had not yet quite made up her mind about what she was going to do—for of course she could not marry him after what she had seen the night before. So she drew back from the window to think about it—for it would never do to try to get rid of him by force. At last she hit upon a plan—she had to think of it herself—for the Owl would tell her nothing.
She went to the door of her room, but there were no guards at the door—they had run down to see what the shouting was about. But just then the doctor came up the stairs:
“Good morning, your Majesty,” he said; “have you had a good night?”
“A very good night, thank you, doctor. But that doesn’t matter just now. I want the Prince of India.”
“The who?” said the astonished doctor.
“The Prince of India.”
“Then I am afraid he can’t come. But if the Knight of London would do—”
“But he won’t! I want the Prince of India at once.”
“I fear your Majesty can’t have him at once. You wouldn’t have him once, you know.”
“But why not?”
“Because at the present moment he isn’t well enough to move.”
“Oh, good gracious!—but why is that?”
“Well, your Majesty, if you’d been thrown from your horse with great violence, and had half a foot of spear stuck into you, besides being mortified at your overthrow, perhaps you would be rather unwell.”
“Oh, poor fellow, I didn’t know he was so bad as that. I’ll go and see him at once.”
“I think your Majesty had better not.”
“Why not?”
“Because it might excite him too much, and besides, what would the Knight of London—”
But the Princess drew herself up and said;
“I beg your pardon, but I must ask you not to mention that gentleman’s name, if you please.”
“Whe—ew,” ejaculated the doctor; “what’s in the wind now?”
“I beg your pardon?” said the Princess.
“I—I only said—it’s an east wind now, your Majesty.”
Just then a page came running up, and said that the Knight of London wished to speak to the Princess.
“Tell him that I am not quite well enough to see him now, but I will send a message to him, if he will stop a moment. And on your way just ask Lord Licec to come to me, please.”
“Yes, your Majesty,” said the page, and he disappeared.
In a moment Lord Licec came.
“You sent for me, your Majesty, I believe?”
“I did, my lord. It was about this Knight of London. I have discovered that he is not what he pretends to be at all, for he is in league with the Magi; and this Magog whom he pretends is his prisoner is really nothing of the sort. He is one of his allies, and they are going to break out and kill me, and every one else, and make themselves masters of everything.”
“Oh, my wig!” suddenly said the doctor, “I hope your Majesty won’t let them; if you intend to I shall depart without delay, for I don’t want to be eaten by this Magog.”
“That’s just what I wanted to prevent by begging the Prince of India to help us; only you said that I mayn’t see him, doctor.”
“Oh! on the contrary, your Majesty, it would be the best thing in the world—well go at once.”
“Wait a moment,” said the Princess, and turning to Lord Licec she went on:
“Now I want you to tell him that the Lords of the Council say that the last
tournament was unfair, because he came in fresh at the end. And that if he wants to—to claim his rights, he must submit to go through another tournament. Of course he will—because he’s quite sure of winning—but he won’t this time.”
“Are you quite sure, your Majesty?”
“Oh! quite. And as all the knights who tilted last time are still in the town, let it take place to-morrow.”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
“And if you could keep him out of the way for a few hours—so that he won’t know what I’m going to do—so much the better.”
“I’ll challenge him to a game of ‘Beggar-My-Neighbour’—that generally lasts for a pretty good time.”
“That will do; the longer the better. Now I’m ready, doctor, if you’ll conduct me to the Prince.”
So they went out at a back door for fear the Knight of London should see them, and they soon reached the house of the Prince.
At the door was a servant, and they asked him where the Prince was.
“In the garden, your Majesty. I will go and announce your arrival to him.”
But the Princess said:
“Oh no! never mind—you needn’t trouble.”
And they went through into the garden. On the way the Princess said to the doctor:
“I thought you said he was not well enough to get up?”
“I did, your Majesty, but he insisted that he must get up, and be off to India this afternoon, and he was excessively violent when I told him he had better not get up—in fact he—he kicked me downstairs; and if your Majesty has no present need of me I will retire, for to tell the truth he threatened to have me ducked in a horse-pond if I came near him again—and he meant it too.”
So the Princess gave him leave to go—in fact she was rather glad he had gone; and she went on walking down the path. It was one of those old-fashioned manor-gardens, full of tall stiff hollyhocks, and damask roses, and beds of thyme and mint, over which the bees were humming so loudly that they could be heard over the whole garden. As the Princess could not see him down one path, she turned into another alley of stiff holly-bushes, but he was not to be seen down there either; however, she walked fast to the end of it—for you see she was rather impatient. Now it happened that just as she turned the corner, the Prince happened to be coming round too, and the result was that as they were going rather fast, and the Prince was the heavier of the two, the Princess was thrown back with violence against the hedge, and she couldn’t help exclaiming:
“Oh!”—for you see he had trodden on her toe. As for the Prince, he could scarcely stand—for the shock and the sight of the Princess together produced a tremendous effect, as you may imagine—for she was the last person he had expected to see.
“My goodness!” he said, as soon as he was able to speak. “Your Majesty—I hope I haven’t hurt you—I am really very sorry. I am very sorry—will you allow me to help you to a seat?—for I see I have trodden on your foot.”
Her Majesty said:
“Oh no! not at all, thank you.”
But all the same she let him give her his arm, and help her to a seat. It was a rustic seat—one of those queer seats made of branches of trees, and it stood in an arbour formed of rose-bushes, and there was plenty of room for two; so she said:
“Won’t you sit down, Prince?”
But he answered:
“I really have not the time, your Majesty. I was just about to start for India, and if your Majesty has no further need of me I will go, and send an attendant.”
But she did not seem to hear the last part of his sentence, for she answered:
“You were going away without saying good-bye to me. Perhaps, however, you intended to call as you passed the palace.”
“I really had not intended to, your Majesty, for you seemed to have so many affairs that I might have interrupted, that I thought it as well to go without troubling you.”
“You shouldn’t have thought that. You see I have had so many affairs of State occupying me that I could not possibly get round to call, and you didn’t choose to come and see me, which was rather, I think—however, that doesn’t matter now. I have come to ask you to stop a little longer—till the day after to-morrow, if you won’t stop after that.”
But the Prince shook his head:
“I have to go immediately; affairs of State, you know, demand my presence in India, and I must go at once, your Majesty.”
“Can’t you really stop a little, Prince?”
“I really can’t, your Majesty—that is—”
“Oh, please do; I’ll tell you something, if you like. I’ve found out who the Knight of London is.”
“And then, your Majesty?” inquired the Prince.
“I don’t know what else. I—I thought that would be enough for you.”
“I don’t understand you, your Majesty.”
“I mean that when I didn’t know he was a wizard I thought he was very enchanting; but when I found out he was an enchanter, I thought you were enchanter—I mean more enchanting.”
The Prince was just saying:
“Oh, your Majesty,” when a peculiar noise from the back of the arbour made them both start, and the Princess jumped up so violently that the Owl, who had meanwhile gone to sleep, was nearly shaken off her shoulder.
“What was that?” she said.
“It sounded like somebody laughing, or trying to keep from laughing, rather. Just wait a moment, I’ll see who it was.”
And he went round behind the arbour. He soon returned bringing the doctor with him, and the doctor did not seem at all happy either.
“Why,” said the Princess, “I thought you were going to leave me. How is it that you came like this behind the arbour?”
“I might just as well ask your Majesty why you came here.”
“You might, but it would not be answering my question.”
“I happened to come round there, your Majesty, to read a book in the shade, and I happened to drop off to sleep, and the noise you heard was my snoring.”
“But how did you know we heard a noise if you were asleep at the time?”
“I—eh—I don’t exactly know, your Majesty.”
“It’s quite clear you were listening. I’ll excuse you this time, but if I catch you eavesdropping again I’ll make the Owl take you up into the sky and drop you—that may be a drop too much for you. You can go now, but don’t do so any more.”
But the Prince had still hold of him.
“By the bye,” he said, “there’s a horse-pond near here; I think I’ll just take you there and throw you in, as I said I would if I caught you again.”
But the Princess said:
“Oh, let him go, Prince,” and the doctor hurried off at a great rate.
“I don’t think he’ll come back again in a hurry,” said the Prince; “meanwhile, what about the Knight of London?”
“I must get rid of him as soon as I can, and I want you to help me.”
“I, your Majesty—but how?”
“The Council have decided that last tournament was not fair, because the Knight came in fresh and you were already tired out, so they have decided to have it over again, and you are requested to come and fight—for me.”
“But what is the use of that? he’ll knock me over just as he did before.”
“Oh no! he won’t, because I’ve found out his secret.” And she told him about the paper.
At the end the Prince said:
“Oh! that’s all right then. I’ll be there, your Majesty.”
“But are you strong enough, do you think?”
“Oh yes, your Majesty.”
“And the affairs of State can be put off till the day after to-morrow. I promise to let you go as soon as you have got rid of the Knight for me.”
“Oh, for the matter of that, there is no such great hurry. I really needn’t go for some time.”
“But you can go whenever you like, you know.”
“Thank you, your Majesty.”
&n
bsp; “But—a—I don’t want you to go, you know. In fact I should like you to stop, very much.”
“Then I’ll stop as long as you like, your Majesty—for ever, if you like, your Majesty.”
“I should like it very much, Prince,” she answered.
I don’t exactly know what happened after that—perhaps you can guess—but they do say that the Owl, who chanced to wake at that moment, positively blushed; but then people are fond of exaggerating, and the Owl did not seem to object, so I suppose it was all right; and when the Princess went back to the palace, the Prince was quite good-tempered again, whereas before her visit he had been so angry that all his servants had left in a body—however, they came back when they found he was quiet again.
So the Princess was quite happy once more, as you may imagine, only there was one nasty thing she had to do, and that was to send a note to the Knight of London thanking him for having taken prisoner the King of the Magi, and hoping that he would be successful at the tournament on the next day—for you see she was not well enough to see him, and he was quite sure of winning, as he had done before, so he did not mind it very much.
The next day came, and the Princess was at the lists as before, and the crowd was just as great too, only there were very many less knights to fight, for the Knight of London was the challenger, and he—well, they had seen how he had treated the Prince of India, and they did not care to be tumbled over in such a very unceremonious way. However, two or three of the bravest in the world came and answered his challenge, but it was no use; they might just as well not have tried, for they were thrown from their horses so violently that they were most of them seriously hurt. So it seemed as if he was going to have it all his own way, for the Prince had as yet not put in an appearance, and the spectators began to call for him—for, as I said before, they liked the Prince better than the Knight; although he was so very handsome, still there was a something about him that they did not like at all. But the Knight had overcome all who had chosen to come against him, and his trumpets were sounding the challenge for the last time, and then their echoes died away and still no answering trumpet came, and the Princess was beginning to feel afraid that he had gone off to India and left her. But just as the Knight was advancing to claim his rights, a trumpet blast rang out brazen and shrill on the still air, and the Prince of India rode into the lists. He was still pale from his illness, but the people cheered him loudly, and the Princess gave a sigh of relief, and quite flushed with joy and excitement.
The Victorian Fairy Tale Book (The Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library) Page 41