by A. A. Milne
CHAPTER III
THE KING OF EURALIA DRAWS HIS SWORD
No doubt you have already guessed that it was the Countess Belvane whodictated the King of Euralia's answer. Left to himself, Merriwigwould have said, "Serve you jolly well right for stalking over mykingdom." His repartee was never very subtle. Hyacinth would havesaid, "Of course we're _awfully_ sorry, but a whisker isn't _very_bad, is it? and you really _oughtn't_ to come to breakfast withoutbeing asked." The Chancellor would have scratched his head for a longtime, and then said, "Referring to Chap VII, Para 259 of the _King'sRegulations_ we notice . . ."
But Belvane had her own way of doing things; and if you suggest thatshe wanted to make Barodia's declaration of war inevitable, well, thestory will show whether you are right in supposing that she had herreasons. It came a little hard on the Chancellor of Barodia, but theinnocent must needs suffer for the ambitions of the unprincipled--amaxim I borrow from _Euralia Past and Present;_ Roger in his moralvein.
"Well," said Merriwig to the Countess, "that's done it."
"It really is war?" asked Belvane.
"It is. Hyacinth is looking out my armour at this moment."
"What did the King of Barodia say?"
"He didn't _say_ anything. He wrote 'W A R' in red on a dirty bit ofpaper, pinned it to my messenger's ear, and sent him back again."
"How very crude," said the Countess.
"Oh, I thought it was--er--rather forcible," said the King awkwardly.Secretly he had admired it a good deal and wished that he had been theone to do it.
"Of course," said the Countess, with a charming smile, "that sort ofthing depends so _very_ much on who does it. Now from your Majesty itwould have seemed--dignified."
"He must have been very angry," said the King, picking up first oneand then another of a number of swords which lay in front of him. "Iwish I had seen his face when he got my Note."
"So do I," sighed the Countess. She wished it much more than theKing. It is the tragedy of writing a good letter that you cannot bethere when it is opened: a maxim of my own, the thought never havingoccurred to Roger Scurvilegs, who was a dull correspondent.
The King was still taking up and putting down his swords.
"It's very awkward," he muttered; "I wonder if Hyacinth----" He wentto the door and called "Hyacinth!"
"Coming, Father," called back Hyacinth, from a higher floor.
The Countess rose and curtsied deeply.
"Good morning, your Royal Highness."
"Good morning, Countess," said Hyacinth brightly. She liked theCountess (you couldn't help it), but rather wished she didn't.
"Oh, Hyacinth," said the King, "come and tell me about these swords.Which is my magic one?"
Hyacinth looked at him blankly.
"Oh, Father," she said. "I don't know at all. Does it matter verymuch?"
"My dear child, of course it matters. Supposing I am fighting theKing of Barodia and I have my magic sword, then I'm bound to win.Supposing I haven't, then I'm not bound to."
"Supposing you both had magic swords," said Belvane. It was the sortof thing she _would_ say.
The King looked up slowly at her and began to revolve the idea in hismind.
"Well, really," he said, "I hadn't thought of that. Upon my word,I----" He turned to his daughter. "Hyacinth, what would happen if weboth had magic swords?"
"I suppose you'd go on fighting for ever," said Hyacinth.
"Or until the magic wore out of one of them," said Belvane innocently.
"There must be something about it somewhere," said the King, whosemorning was in danger of being quite spoilt by this new suggestion;"I'd ask the Chancellor to look it up, only he's so busy just now."
"He'd have plenty of time while the combat was going on," said Belvanethoughtfully. Wonderful creature! she saw already the Chancellorhurrying up to announce that the King of Euralia had won, at the verymoment when he lay stretched on the ground by a mortal thrust from hisadversary.
The King turned to his swords again.
"Well, anyway, I'm going to be sure of _mine_," he said. "Hyacinth,haven't you _any_ idea which it is?" He added in rather a hurt voice,"Naturally I left the marking of my swords to _you_."
His daughter examined the swords one by one.
"Here it is," she cried. "It's got 'M' on it for 'magic.'"
"Or 'Merriwig,'" said the Countess to her diary.
The expression of joy on the King's face at his daughter's discoveryhad just time to appear and fade away again.
"You are not being very helpful this morning, Countess," he saidseverely.
Instantly the Countess was on her feet, her diary thrown to thefloor--no, never thrown--laid gently on the floor, and herself, handsclasped at her breast, a figure of reproachful penitence before him.
"Oh, your Majesty, forgive me--if your Majesty had only asked me--Ididn't know your Majesty wanted me--I thought her Royal Highness----But _of course_ I'll find your Majesty's sword for you." Did shestroke his head as she said this? I have often wondered. It would belike her impudence, and her motherliness, and her---and, in fact, likeher. _Euralia Past and Present_ is silent upon the point. RogerScurvilegs, who had only seen Belvane at the unimpressionable age oftwo, would have had it against her if he could, so perhaps there isnothing in it.
"There!" she said, and she picked out the magic sword almost at once.
_"Try it on me," cried the Countess_]
"Then I'll get back to my work," said Hyacinth cheerfully, and leftthem to each other.
The King, smiling happily, girded on his sword. But a sudden doubtassailed him.
"Are you sure it's the one?"
"Try it on _me_," cried the Countess superbly, falling on her kneesand stretching up her arms to him. The toe of her little shoe touchedher diary; its presence there uplifted her. Even as she knelt she sawherself describing the scene. How do you spell "offered"? shewondered.
I think the King was already in love with her, though he found it sodifficult to say the decisive words. But even so he could only havebeen in love a week or two; a fortnight in the last forty years; andhe had worn a sword since he was twelve. In a crisis it is the oldlove and not the greater love which wins (Roger's, but I think I agreewith him), and instinctively the King drew his sword. If it weremagic a scratch would kill. Now he would know.
Her enemies said that the Countess could not go pale; she had herfaults, but this was not one of them. She whitened as she saw theKing standing over her with drawn sword. A hundred thoughts chasedeach other through her mind. She wondered if the King would be sorryafterwards; she wondered what the minstrels would sing of her, and ifher diary would ever be made public; most of all she wondered why shehad been such a fool, such a melodramatic fool.
The King came to himself with a sudden start. Looking slightlyashamed he put his sword back in its scabbard, coughed once or twiceto cover his confusion, and held his hand out to the Countess toassist her to rise.
"Don't be absurd, Countess," he said. "As if we could spare you at atime like this. Sit down and let us talk matters over seriously."
A trifle bewildered by the emotions she had gone through, Belvane satdown, the beloved diary clasped tightly in her arms. Life seemedsingularly sweet just then, the only drawback being that the minstrelswould not be singing about her after all. Still, one cannot haveeverything.
The King walked up and down the room as he talked.
"I am going away to fight," he said, "and I leave my dear daughterbehind. In my absence, her Royal Highness will of course rule thecountry. I want her to feel that she can lean upon you, Countess, foradvice and support. I know that I can trust you, for you have justgiven me a great proof of your devotion and courage."
"Oh, your Majesty!" said Belvane deprecatingly, but feeling very gladthat it hadn't been wasted.
"Hyacinth is young and inexperienced. She needs a--a----"
"A mother's guiding hand," said Belvane softly.
> The King started and looked away. It was really too late to proposenow; he had so much to do before the morrow. Better leave it till hecame back from the war.
"You will have no official position," he went on hastily, "other thanyour present one of Mistress of the Robes; but your influence on herwill be very great."
The Countess had already decided on this. However there _is_ a lookof modest resignation to an unsought duty which is suited to anoccasion of this kind, and the Countess had no difficulty in supplyingit.
"I will do all that I can, your Majesty, to help--gladly; but will notthe Chancellor----"
"The Chancellor will come with me. He is no fighter, but he is goodat spells." He looked round to make sure that they were alone, andthen went on confidentially, "He tells me that he has discovered inthe archives of the palace a Backward Spell of great value. Should hebe able to cast this upon the enemy at the first onslaught, he thinksthat our heroic army would have no difficulty in advancing."
"But there will be other learned men," said Belvane innocently, "somuch more accustomed to affairs than us poor women, so much betterable"--("What nonsense I'm talking," she said to herself)--"to adviseher Royal Highness----"
"Men like that," said the King, "I shall want with me also. If I amto invade Barodia properly I shall need every man in the kingdom.Euralia must be for the time a country of women only." He turned toher with a smile and said gallantly, "That will be--er---- Itis--er--not--er----. One may well--er----"
It was so obvious from his manner that something complimentary wasstruggling to the surface of his mind, that Belvane felt it would bekinder not to wait for it.
"Oh, your Majesty," she said, "you flatter my poor sex."
"Not at all," said the King, trying to remember what he had said. Heheld out his hand. "Well, Countess, I have much to do."
"I, too, your Majesty."
She made him a deep curtsey and, clasping tightly the precious diary,withdrew.
The King, who still seemed worried about something, returned to histable and took up his pen. Here Hyacinth discovered him ten minuteslater. His table was covered with scraps of paper and, her eyeslighting casually upon one of them, she read these remarkable words:
"_In such a land I should be a most contented subject._"
She looked at some of the others. They were even shorter:
"_That, dear Countess, would be my----_"
"_A country in which even a King----_"
"_Lucky country!_"
The last was crossed out and "_Bad_" written against it.
"Whatever are these, Father?" said Hyacinth.
The King jumped up in great confusion.
"Nothing, dear, nothing," he said. "I was just--er---- Of course Ishall have to address my people, and I was just jotting down a few----However, I shan't want them now." He swept them together, screwedthem up tight, and dropped them into a basket.
And what became of them? you ask. Did they light the fires of thePalace next morning? Well, now, here's a curious thing. In Chapter Xof _Euralia Past and Present_ I happened across these words:
"The King and all the men of the land having left to fight the wickedBarodians, Euralia was now a country of women only--_a country inwhich even a King might be glad to be a subject_."
Now what does this mean? Is it another example of literary theft? Ihave already had to expose Shelley. Must I now drag into the light ofday a still worse plagiarism by Roger Scurvilegs? The waste-paperbaskets of the Palace were no doubt open to him as to so manyhistorians. But should he not have made acknowledgments?
I do not wish to be hard on Roger. That I differ from him on manypoints of historical fact has already been made plain, and will bemade still more plain as my story goes on. But I have a respect forthe man; and on some matters, particularly those concerning Prince Udoof Araby's first appearance in Euralia, I have to rely entirely uponhim for my information. Moreover I have never hesitated to give himcredit for such of his epigrams as I have introduced into this book,and I like to think that he would be equally punctilious to others.We know his romantic way; no doubt the thought occurred to himindependently. Let us put it at that, anyhow.
Belvane, meanwhile, was getting on. The King had drawn his sword onher and she had not flinched. As a reward she was to be the powerbehind the throne.
"Not necessarily _behind_ the throne," said Belvane to herself.