CHAPTER XI. – WHAT HAPPENED IN THE GRIM FOREST
THEY entered the Palace gardens by the private gate, the key of which King Smith I. had given to Boy before he started, and were walking towards Boy’s apartments when they met His Majesty, the late footman, hurrying along one of the corridors. He bowed rather distantly to the other two Kings, and said to Boy, in an excited tone of voice, —
“I’ve found the Portmanteau!”
“Never!” cried Boy.
“Yes,” replied King Smith I., “I was sitting having my tea, when suddenly it dropped down from somewhere on to the tea-table. I can’t think where it came from. Come and see it;” and he led the way to his apartments, where, sure enough, there was the Portmanteau, about which such a fuss had been made. It was quite an ordinary-looking one, but there could be no mistake as to whom it belonged, for there were the words, written on it, and below in smaller letters —
“H.M. the King of Limesia
His Bag”
written on it, and below in smaller letters —
“Steal not this bag for fear of shame,
For on it is the owner’s name.”
“Where can it have come from?” asked Boy, gazing at it curiously.
“I can’t think,” replied King Smith I., “unless Ohah had something to do with it. I shouldn’t be at all surprised if he had a finger in the pie.”
“Perhaps,” suggested Boy, “he made it invisible like the Prince and Princess, and now that he is a Kottle his charms have lost their power.”
“Very likely,” agreed the others. And then the question arose, “What should be done with it?”
Boy thought it ought to be sent back to the King of Limesia, but the others said “No! let him send for it, or come for it himself if he wants it;” and King Smith I. thought that an advertisement ought to be sent to the papers, worded something like this
FOUND A RATHER SHABBY PORTMANTEAU, Belonging to some king or another. If not claimed within the next ten days, will be sold to defray expenses. The finder expects to be handsomely; rewarded
They could not come to any definite arrangements about it, though, and it was placed in the corner of the room while they had their tea.
During this meal Boy was rather silent, for he was hatching in his own mind a little plot, in which the Portmanteau was to play an important part.
“How far is Limesia from here?” he asked casually, while tea was going on.
“Oh! not far,” was the reply; “it is the adjoining kingdom, just through the Grim Forest, you know.”
Boy knew where the Grim Forest was, for it had been pointed out to him from one of the Palace windows – a great dark-looking wood stretching away as far as the eye could see.
“Is there no other way of getting there?” he asked anxiously.
“No,” was the reply, “that is the only way;” and Boy sat thinking and thinking till tea was over and the other Kings went home; then he suggested to King Smith I. that he should take charge of the Portmanteau till the King of Limesia sent for it, and this having been agreed to, he carried it up to his own apartments.
“If I can only get it to the King of Limesia,” he thought, “he would no doubt be very pleased, and perhaps would advise me what I ought to do about fetching the little King back again;” for you see Boy was greatly worried at the way in which things were going on at Zum; he felt that with so many Kings and Queens about there was a great danger of the country coming to grief.
So as soon as he could he manfully set out from the Palace quite alone to try and find his way through Grim Forest to Limesia. He had discarded his paper crown and sceptre and carried the precious Portmanteau – which fortunately was not very heavy – on his shoulder. He was rather alarmed at the prospect of his journey through the dark forest, but he was a brave, sturdy little fellow, and determined to make the best of it. He commenced whistling as he entered the wood, and had not gone far when he saw an old man gathering sticks.
“Can you please tell me, is it far to Limesia?” he asked.
“Eh?” said the man, putting his hand to his ear.
“Is it far to Limesia, please?” repeated Boy.
“Ay! that’s what I told her!” said the old man, shaking his head, “but she would put the onions into it. I told her the gentlefolks would be sure not to like’em.”
“You don’t understand me,” shouted Boy; “I want to know the way to Limesia.”
“I dare say they have, I dare say they have,” replied the old man; “use is no odds in these parts, sir.”
“Oh dear me!” thought Boy, “he’s dreadfully deaf; I shall never make him hear, I am afraid;” and he was just going to walk away when he saw an old woman in a red cloak hobbling towards them with the aid of a crooked stick.
“My husband is very deaf,” she said, “and cannot hear a word you say. Can I do anything for you, sir?”
“Oh, I was only asking the way to Limesia,” said Boy.
“Why, you can’t go there to-night!” said the woman; “it’s ever so far; you had better stay at our cottage till the morning.”
Boy thanked her very gratefully, for he really did not care for the long walk through the woods by himself.
The old woman gave her husband a poke with her stick, and pointed to the cottage which Boy could see in the distance; and the old man nodded his head, and led the way with the bundle of sticks on his shoulder, while Boy and the old lady followed behind.
“What a beautiful old house!” exclaimed Boy, when they reached the cottage; for it was indeed a lovely place, quite overgrown with climbing roses, which were just then in full bloom. There were nice old-fashioned, latticed windows with pretty white curtains and quaint twisted chimneys above the roof, and altogether it was a charming old place.
“Why, it must be a great deal too big for you and your husband, surely,” said Boy, as they entered the wicket gate which led into the little garden before the cottage.
“Oh, it doesn’t belong to us,” explained the woman; “it was the late King of Zum’s Hunting Lodge, and we live here rent free as caretakers. We have the kitchen and two small rooms, and the rest of the house has been occupied this last five years or more by gentlefolks,” said the old woman dropping her voice to a whisper and looking up nervously at the upper windows. “But come you in and have some supper; that is, if you don’t mind having it with us,” and the kind old soul led the way to the kitchen, which was scrupulously clean, and Boy sat down on a little three-legged stool while she made some milk hot in a caldron over the wood fire which was alight on the old-fashioned hearth.
Presently a bell rang and the old woman asked Boy to watch that the milk didn’t boil over while she went upstairs to wait on the gentlefolks.
She came down a minute or two afterwards with a piece of paper which she handed to Boy.
“Will you please tell me what is written on there?” she said. “It’s getting dusk, and my poor old eyes are not so good as they used to be.”
“We shall not require anything else to-night, and please let breakfast be ready by nine o’clock to-morrow morning,” read Boy.
“Oh! that’s all right then,” said the old woman, pouring out the milk into some basins for their supper.
“But why don’t they tell you what they want instead of writing it?” asked Boy.
“They can’t,” explained the woman; “they are invisible and speechless. It’s a very sad story,” she said, sighing sorrowfully.
“Why, I know a lady and gentleman who are invisible too,” exclaimed Boy, thinking of the Crown Prince and the Princess. “I wonder if they can possibly be the same.”
“These gentlefolks have only been like that for a few months,” said the woman; “they came here four or five years ago, a beautiful lady and a fine handsome young gentleman with one servant, a rather stout, pleasant-spoken woman, and lived here very quiet. I think the lady must have been some one very important at one time, for when their little baby boy was born quite a lot of grand folks came to see her from Limesia. Such a dear little fellow he was, and his father and mother were so proud of him and so fond of each other. The lady would sing and play beautifully, and the gentleman would read to her, and sometimes they would go out for a ride in the Forest; but never very far away, and they always seemed glad to be back again; till one day about two months ago a grand gentleman came and told us the King of Zum was dead, and then our gentleman, as I call him, went to Limesia with the dear lady his wife. I wish you could have seen them go. Such a lovely dress the lady had on, and beautiful jewels, and the gentleman too looked very grand.
“Well, they drove off in a carriage and pair and we didn’t see any more of them all day, but in the evening, though, they came back, and you never saw such a sight in all your life; they both seemed to be fading away – bits of the gentleman here and there were quite transparent, and the dear lady had to be carried upstairs, for she couldn’t walk. The next day they were much worse, and gradually disappeared altogether. Just before they vanished entirely a lot of ladies and gentlemen came over to see them from Limesia, and when they had gone back the nurse took the little boy away too, and I have never seen them again from that day to this. I suppose the lady and gentleman are still here, for every day I find on the table upstairs some written directions about meals and so on, which I carry up and which disappear too, but I never see anybody.”
“Why, I do believe,” exclaimed Boy, “that it must be the Prince and Princess. I should like to see them.”
“So should I,” said the woman.
“Do you think I might write them a note?” asked Boy. “I have something very important to tell them if they are really the Prince and Princess.”
“I never tried that,” said the woman; “you can do so, though, if you wish. I will take the note upstairs and put it on the table, and we will see what happens, if you like.”
Boy thought that this would be the best thing for them to do, so as soon as supper was over he wrote the following polite note:
“To His Royal Highness The Crown Prince of Zum.
“Dear Sir,
The King of Limesia’s Portmanteau has been found, and a little boy from Zum has brought it here and would very much like to tell you what is happening there, because he really thinks that you ought to interfere.
“Yours respectably,
"Boy.”
He meant “respectfully,” of course, but you know how it is with letters. One often writes the wrong word, don’t they? I know I do. Well, this note was taken upstairs and put on the table, and presently the bell rang again violently, and on going upstairs they found another note beside it addressed to:
“Master Boy.”
He opened it at once and found the following words:
“Ohah promised that as soon as the Portmanteau was found we should be made visible again, so please take the’ Portmanteau in one hand and say, ‘I wish the Crown Prince of Zum and the Princess his wife to become visible again as Ohah the Magician promised.’”
Boy ran downstairs for the Portmanteau, and grasping the handle firmly with one hand repeated the words loudly.
They were hardly out of his mouth before a thin mist appeared at one end of the room which gradually divided and became more and more distinct, till Boy could at last distinguish the outlines of the Prince and the Princess, and in a very few moments he had the pleasure of seeing them quite clearly.
“Ah! that’s better,” said His Royal Highness, with a sigh of relief, when he was quite solid. “How do you feel, my dear?” he asked, turning to the Princess, who, however, could not answer him yet, as only the upper part of her head had appeared at present; she waved her hand, though, to show that she was all right.
“I’m sure we are very much obliged to you,” said the Prince graciously to Boy. “How did you know we were here?”
And then Boy had to tell them all about his visit to Zum and the extraordinary events which had been happening since he had been there.
“And you are quite sure that my son is all right?” inquired the Prince anxiously.
Boy explained how he had sent him to Drinkon College under the charge of the Nurse and One-and-Nine.
And the Princess, who had by this time quite recovered her voice, thanked him over and over again for all that he had done, and after arranging that the Portmanteau should be sent to the King of Limesia the next day they determined that it would be best for them to go back to Zum that very night.
So the Prince’s horse was saddled, and with the Princess on a pillion behind and Boy on a pony which belonged to the little King they rode back through the gathering darkness to Zum.
All was quiet when they reached the Palace, and Boy led the way through the private entrance. King Smith had not yet retired to rest and came forward when he heard them enter. He recognised the Crown Prince at once, and hastily tearing off his own crown and cloak, bowed low and welcomed him back to the Palace.
“It is indeed a good thing for Zum, Your Highness, that you have returned,” he said, “for things could not possibly have gone on like this much longer. I am sure there is not a King in the place who will not feel it a pleasure to abdicate in favour of Your Highness.”
“Thanks!” remarked the Prince. “Now can we go to my own suite of rooms, or have they been altered during my long absence?”
“They are just as Your Highness left them,” answered the footman, leading the way to another part of the Palace, and the Prince with the Princess leaning on his arm followed, after they had both, shaken hands heartily with Boy and wished him good-night.
CHAPTER XII. – THE CONCLUSION OF THE WHOLE MATTER
OF course the news of the Crown Prince’s return was soon known throughout the kingdom, and all the Kings and Queens being thoroughly tired of the complications which had arisen through there being so many of them elected, were quite delighted to hear of it.
“For what is the use,” Boy heard one of them say, “of reigning if you have no subjects to rule over but a lot of stuck-up Kings and Queens who think too much of themselves to treat other people with proper respect? I’m heartily sick of it.”
“Yes,” was the rejoinder, “and so am I. Why, ever since my wife has been a Queen she has been as disagreeable as she can possibly be, and insists upon ‘standing on her diginity,’ as she describes it, at home. I mustn’t call her ‘my dear’ if you please, it’s too familiar – ‘Your Majesty’ this, and ‘Your Majesty’ that, is what she likes, till I’m tired of hearing it. I shall be right glad when she is plain Jane Eliza Scroggs again, that I shall.”
Quite early on the morning after the Crown Prince’s return Cæsar Augustus Maximilian Claudius Smith (once more called Thomas for short) was sent to Drinkon College to bring the Royal Nurse and the little King home again, and while he was gone the Prince and Princess drove out in a beautiful carriage and pair and were received with most enthusiastic cheers and applause by the populace; and in the afternoon the little King returned accompanied by Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky.
Boy was quite surprised to see that her corkscrcw curls were now a bright golden colour, whereas they had been quite black before.
One-and-Nine did not come back with them, but the Royal Nurse had a letter from him addressed to Boy, which he took up to his room and read.
“Expensive Sir,” it began.
“I wonder whatever he means?” thought boy. “Oh! I see, ‘expensive’ is his way of writing ‘dear.’”
“Expensive Sir,
“This comes hopping that you are most healthful, as it leaves me at present. You will be joyed to hear that I am about to be matrimonialized to a Zuluish lady of the richest colour – with movable joints. That Majestuous lady the Royal Nurse having declined me with much pleasure, has offered to be sisterish to me; but the Zuluish lady objects, so I have had to separationize myself from the Majestuous one with considerable distance. Before we parted I begged for one of those most twistful corkscrew curls as a keepsake, and she extravaganteously presentuated me with the lot – they fasten behind the head with considerable stringiness, or it may be even black tapeishness; it is hard to tell which is what in this life.
“The Prince of Whales has given me a new coat – of paint – and as my Zuluish lady dresses with much simpleness, we shall doubtfully domesticate with great happiness.
“Please give my devotionated affection to that Majestuous lady, and say I will think of her with much continuation and perpetuation, and also the curls, which shall never leave my head – as it leaves her at present.
“Yours contentuously,
“One-and-Nine
“N.B. – She had another set in her box”
“I suppose he means another set of curls,” thought Boy, “which would account for the change in Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky’s appearance. Well, I’m sure I hope that One-and-Nine will be happy with his Zulu bride. What a funny chap he is, to be sure!”
Later on in the day the Prince and Princess and the little King held a reception, to which all the principal inhabitants of Zum were invited, and, of course, all the Court dignitaries were present. The Public Rhymester was also there, through the influence of his friend the Advertiser General.
The Prince made a speech from the Terrace, in which he informed the people that he should, of course, take the reins of office himself now, and would do his best, when King of the Country, to promote the welfare of his subjects.
The Princess was most popular too, and by her beauty and condescension captivated all hearts.
In the evening there was an al fresco concert in the beautiful Palace gardens, which were brilliantly illuminated for the occasion. Amongst the items on the programme were some songs by the “Pierrot Troupe,” and Boy anxiously wondered if his Pierrot would be amongst them. To his great delight he found that he was, and when he stepped forward with his banjo, and began the well-known tune to “The Little Tin Soldier,” Boy applauded vigorously. The words, however, were quite different, and went somehow like this —
THE MARRIED TIN SOLDIER
One night as I paused by the Nursery door,
And looked at the scattered toys,
I said to myself, “Was there ever before
Such troublesome girls and boys?”
And then as I hurried to gather them up,
I heard a wee voice complain,
“Oh! sorry am I that I ever was wed,
And would I were single again!”
On the ground at my feet lay a soldier red,
And I think he was made of tin,
And I noticed the paint on the top of his head
Was getting remarkably thin.
And I asked him why, at that hour of the night,
He was making that horrible noise;
And I told him to stop and behave like a man,
Or like other respectable toys.
“Oh! how would you like it yourself,” quoth he,
“To be married to such a wife;
To be treated as no loving husband should be,
And be plagued almost out of your life?
She carries on with the other toys,
She’s extravagant and vain;
No wonder,” he said, “that I’m sorry I wed
And long to be single again.”
“It’s all very well,” said another voice,
“But he’s just as bad as me,
And he needn’t have wed, for I had my choice
Of many as good as he.”
And a waxen doll, in a dress of blue
That was rather the worse for wear,
Looked up from under our Baby’s shoe
With a discontented air.
“You naughty, naughty toys,” I cried,
“To quarrel now you’re wed.”
And as I packed them side by side
I sadly shook my head.
To think that this man and his wife
To such extremes should go —
How glad I am that in this life
We never quarrel so!
“Dear me!” thought Boy, “I suppose that is the same Dolly-girl and Tin Soldier that he sang about before. Well, One-and-Nine has the best of the bargain after all, if it is true; I must ask Pierrot about it if I get a chance of speaking to him.”
While the concert was still going on a Messenger arrived from the King of Limesia saying that he was very pleased to have his Portmanteau again, and that he had quite forgiven his daughter for marrying the Prince now, and wished them every joy and happiness; and sent them as a peace-offering a number of Flying Machines, which had just been invented by one of his subjects, and which were most popular at Limesia.
“Flying is now the popular craze of the day in our land,” explained the Messenger, “and the Park is reserved certain hours in the day for the convenience of ‘Flyists.’ Ladies now hold their ‘At Homes’ at the top of the highest trees, and Flying Tours are all the rage.”
The machines, of which forty or fifty were sent, were very simple, and consisted of two large silk and whalebone wings, fastened on to the back with straps. Another strap was fastened at the wrist, and by flapping one’s arms about it was possible to fly quite comfortably.
His Absolute Nothingness the Public Rhymester had to try one first.
“For,” as the Lord High Adjudicator explained, “if he is killed it doesn’t matter in the least.”
He got on very well, though, and then some of the others ventured to try them, and amused themselves and the rest of the Company by flying up into the trees and down again. Boy tried a pair, but thought them very clumsy. I suppose that really they were too big for him.
“Not so comfortable as sailing in the Moon, is it?” said a voice by his side, and looking around Boy beheld Pierrot with his banjo under his arm.
“Oh, how do you do?” cried Boy, holding out his hand. “I’m so glad to meet you again.”
“How have you been enjoying yourself?” asked Pierrot.
“Oh! immensely, thanks,” replied Boy; “but I was beginning to wonder how I should get home again. Of course you can take me back in ‘the Moon, can’t you?”
“Oh yes, if you like,” said Pierrot, “but we are starting soon and if you are coming with us you had better make your adieu to the Prince and Princess at once.”
Boy arranged to meet Pierrot in a few moments by the Bandstand and then hurried off to say good-bye to his friends.
“Oh! must you go?” cried the Prince. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to ask you such a lot of questions about the government of the country that you come from, with a view to adopting somewhat the same system here; but, of course, if you must go you must. Can’t you tell me just a little bit about it before you go, though?”
“Well, Your Highness,” said Boy, “I really don’t know much about Politics, but you see we have a lot of gentlemen in England who are called Members of Parliament who are elected from all parts of the country, and they sit every day and talk about the affairs of the nation. They have such a lot to talk about that sometimes they have to sit there all night, and bring sandwiches and things in their pockets to eat, or they would starve. Ladies are invited to these meetings, and sit up in the gallery to prevent the Liberals from quarrelling with the Conservatives, because of course it would be very rude to quarrel before ladies, wouldn’t it?”
“But what are Liberals and Conservatives, and what do they want to quarrel for?” asked the Prince.
“Oh! I don’t know exactly,” said Boy; “but they take sides in Parliament, you know, and one side wants to keep everything the same as it has been for hundreds of years, and the other side wants to alter everything – and they are always squabbling about this.”
“But why doesn’t the King stop it?” asked the Prince.
“Oh! our Kings and Queens never meddle with Politics; they only sign things, and confer titles, and hold Drawing Rooms, and open Hospitals, and Convalescent Homes, and Orphanages, and that sort of thing. They let the Members of Parliament settle all the other matters themselves. I’m afraid I haven’t made it very clear, but I must be off now, Your Highness,” and after shaking hands with the Prince and Princess, Boy hurried back to the Bandstand, where he found Pierrot and the rest of the Troupe waiting for him in the Moon.
The Prince’s guests were all curiously crowding around them, and as they started they gave a hearty cheer while the Moon rose slowly up into the air and the Pierrot Troupe struck up a lively tune on their banjoes.
Before they had gone very far, however, Boy could see that the Busybody Extraordinary and several of the other guests were hastily fastening on their wings.
“Surely they are not going to try to fly up here!” he cried.
They were, though, and in a very few moments he could see that about forty or fifty of the guests were flying rapidly towards them.
“Good gracious!” cried Boy, “they can never all get in here; we shall be upset. Go back!” he shouted, leaning over the Moon, “go back!”
But nearer and nearer they flew, till presently the Lord High Adjudicator’s head appeared at the side of the Moon, then the Advertiser General, and immediately afterwards six or seven others were scrambling over the side.
“Pray be careful. You can’t possibly all get in,” cried Boy; “we shall certainly be overbalanced;” but no one heeded him, and more and more people came tumbling in till, just as Boy had feared, the Moon lurched to one side, and then when they all rushed to the other, turned completely upside down, and out they all tumbled. Boy screamed and shut his eyes in his fright as he felt himself falling down and down and down, till crash – bang! – crash! and Boy found himself struggling on his back; he opened his eyes, and – would you believe it? – he was in his little strange bed at Scarboro’, the sun was streaming through the window and the servant was knocking at the door and saying, “Your shaving water, sir,” for he had mistaken Boy’s room for his Uncle’s.
“Well, I can’t believe it has all been a dream,” he thought as he got up and dressed himself. “I shall certainly ask Pierrot about it when I see him on the sands.”
But when later on in the morning he did see Pierrot, that amusing gentleman declared he had never been to Zum in his life, and asked Boy where it was, which was such a puzzling question that Boy has never been able to answer it to this day.