The Pobratim: A Slav Novel

by P. Jones

  CHAPTER X

  PRINCE MATHIAS

  Sailing from Trieste to Ragusa, the _Spera in Dio_ was becalmed justin front of Lissa; for days and days she lay there on that ripplelesssea, looking like "a painted ship upon a painted ocean."

  It was towards the middle of spring, in that season of the yearcalled by the Dalmatians the _venturini_, or fortunate months, onaccount of the shoals of sardines, anchovies, and mackerel, whichswim up the Adriatic, and towards that eastern part of its shores,affording the people--whose barren land affords them but scantyfood--the main source of their sustenance.

  At last a faint breeze began to blow; it brought with it the sweetscent of thyme and sage from the rocky coast only a few miles off,and made the flabby sails flap gently against the masts, still,without swelling them at all. Everyone on board the _Spera in Dio_was in hopes that the wind would increase when the moon rose, but thesun went down far away in the offing, all shorn of its rays, and likea huge ball of fire; then a slight haze arose, dimming the brightnessof the stars, casting over nature a faint, phosphorescent glimmer;then they knew that the wind would not rise, for "the mist leaves theweather as it finds it;" at least, the proverb says so.

  Already that afternoon the crew of the _Spera in Dio_ had seen thewaters of the sea--as far as eye could reach--bickering andsimmering; still, they knew that the slight shivering of the waterswas not produced by any ruffling wind, but by the glittering silverscales of myriads of fish swimming on the surface of the smoothwaters. In fact, a flock of gulls was soon hovering and wheeling overthe main, uttering shrill cries of delight every time they dippedwithin the brine and snatched an easy prey; then a number of dolphinsappeared from underneath, and began to plunge and gambol amidst theshoal, feasting upon the fry. The fish, in a body, made for theshore, hoping to find protection in shallower waters. Alas! a farmore powerful enemy was waiting for them there.

  Night came on; the fishermen lighted their resinous torches on theprows of the boats, and the fish, attracted by the sheen, whichreflected itself down in the deep, dark water, were lured within thedouble net spread out to catch them.

  When the shoal began to follow the deceptive light, the quiet waterswere struck with mighty, resounding thuds, and the terror-strickensardines swam hither and thither, helter-skelter, entanglingthemselves within the meshes of that wall of netting spread out tocapture them.

  Thus the whole of that balmy summer night was passed in decoying andfrightening the shoal, in gathering it together, then in driving itinto the inlet where the nets were spread.

  At last, at early dawn, the long-awaited moment came. Everyfisherman, dumb with expectation, grasped the ropes of the net andtugged with lusty sinews and a rare good-will. For the father, thesustenance of his children at home lay in those nets; for the lover,the produce of that first night's fishery would enable him to saywhether he could wed the girl he loves that year, or if the marriagewould have to be postponed till more propitious times.

  The strong men groaned under the weight they were heaving, but not aword was spoken. Finally, the dripping nets were uplifted out of thewater. It was a rare sight to see the fish glistening like a mass ofmolten silver within the brown meshes, just when the firsthyacinthine beams of the dawning sun fell upon their glossy, nacreousscales.

  The captain and his two mates, the _pobratim_, rowed on shore andtook part in the general rejoicings, for nothing gladdens the heartof man as abundance; moreover, they made a very good stroke ofbusiness, for, having ready-money, they bought up, and thus secured,part of their cargo for their return voyage.

  On the morrow, a fresh and steady breeze having begun to blow, thelazy sails swelled out, the ship flew on the rippling waters, like awhite swan, and that very evening they dropped the anchor at Gravosa,the port of Ragusa.

  How often the letter we have been so anxiously expecting only comesto disappoint us, making us feel our sorrow more deeply.

  As soon as the post-office was opened, the _pobratim_ hurried thereto ask for letters. They both received several from their parents.Uros read, with a sinking heart, what we already know, that Radonichad killed Vranic, and that Milena was dangerously ill. Milenkoreceived a letter in a handwriting new to him. With a trembling handhe tore open the envelope, unfolded the sheet of pale blue Bathpaper, containing an ounce of gold dust in it, and read the followinglines:--

  "Honoured Sir,--I take up my pen to keep the promise I so imprudentlymade of writing to you, but this, which is the first, must also bethe last letter I ever pen.

  "Perhaps you will be angry with me, and think me inconstant, butalas! this is not the case. Henceforth, I must never think of you, orat least, only as a friend. It is not fated that we be man and wife,and, as marriages are made in heaven, we must submit to what has beendecreed.

  "You must not think me heartless if I write to you in this way, butthe fact is, my father had--even before my birth--promised me inmarriage to the son of one of his friends, and this young man happensto be your own friend and brother Uros. My only hope now is, that he,as you hinted, being in love with someone else, will not insist uponmarrying me, or else I shall be the most wretched woman that everlived in this world.

  "My father, who is delighted with the marriage, for he has alwaysmistaken you for Uros, has already written to his old friend Bellacicto remind him of his plighted word. Perhaps your friend will get hisfather to write to mine, and explain the real state of things to him;if not, I shall dearly regret the day you saved me from certaindeath.

  "But why do I write all this to you. Perhaps, as the saying is: 'Farfrom the eyes, far from the heart.' You have already forgotten thewretched girl who owes her life to you, and must therefore love,cherish, and ever be your most obedient servant, "IVANKA."

  As poor Milenko read this letter, his cheeks grew pale, his heartseemed to stop, he almost gasped for breath. He looked around; thesky seemed to have grown dark, the world dreary, life a burden. Couldit be possible that, when the cup of happiness had touched his lips,it would be snatched away from him and dashed down?

  The letter which he had read seemed to have muddled his brain. Was itpossible that the girl he loved so dearly was to marry his friend,who did not care about her? and if she loved him, would she yieldtamely to her father's wish? Alas! what proper girl ever rebelledagainst her father's decree?

  Milenko felt as if a hand of steel had been thrust within his breast,gripped his heart and crushed it.

  All at once he was seized by a dreadful doubt. Did Uros know nothingabout all this, or was he conniving with his father to rob him of hisbride? He looked up at his friend, who was reading the letters he hadjust received. The tidings they contained must have been far worsethan his own, for Uros' face was the very picture of despair.

  "What is the matter?" said Milenko; "bad news from home?"

  For all answer Uros handed the letter he had just been reading to hisfriend; it was as follows:--

  "My dear Son,--The present lines are to inform you that we are bothwell, your mother and myself, though, indeed, I have been sufferingwith rheumatic pains in my right shoulder and in my left leg, as wellas occasional cramps in my stomach, for which the barber has cuppedme several times. As for your mother, she always suffers with soreeyes, and though she tries to cure herself with vine-water and thedew which the flowers distil on St. John's Eve, which is a specific,as you know, still, it has not afforded her great relief. She is alsooften ailing with a pain in her side; but these are only trifles.Therefore, I hope that this letter will find you, Milenko and thecaptain in as good health as that which we at present enjoy, and thatyou have had a good and prosperous voyage. Here, at Budua, things arealways about the same. The weather has hitherto been very favourableto the crops, and, with God's help, we must hope for a good harvest,though the wind having blown down almost all the blossoms of thealmond-trees, there will be but little fruit. As for the vines,little can be said as yet; whilst having had a good crop of oliveslast year, we cannot expect much this autumn.

&nb
sp; "Our town is always very quiet. A fire only broke out here not longago, and it burnt down a few houses. As it was believed to have beencaused on account of a _karvarina_, bloodshed, as usual, ensued.Another fact, which somewhat upset our town, was the death of Vranic,who was found murdered in Radonic's house whilst Milena was spendingthe evening with us. You may well understand how astonished every onewas, for Radonic and Vranic had been friends from their youth.Although no one was ever very fond of Radonic, still nobody regrettedVranic, who, as you know, was gifted with the evil eye; and althoughI myself, not being superstitious, do not believe that persons canharm you simply by looking at you, still it is useless to go againstfacts. Poor Milena, who was the first to enter the house after themurder--although your mother had accompanied her thither--was seizedby such a terrible fright that she remained soulless for many hours,and has been ill ever since, though with care and good food we hopeto bring her round.

  "I was marvelled to hear how you fell in with the Giulianics, andthat your ship saved them from death. It is certainly a dispensationof Providence, and--not being an infidel Turk--I do not see _Kismet_in everything that happens; still, the hand of the Almighty God isclearly visible in all this.

  "Giulianic and I were friends when he, Markovic and myself were poorfolk, struggling hard to live and to put by a penny for a rainy day.All three of us have, thank Heaven, succeeded beyond ourexpectations, for I am glad to hear, by your account as well as hisown, that he is in such good circumstances.

  "One day--long before you were born--talking together and joking, wemade each other a kind of promise, more for the fun of the thing thanfor anything else, that if we should have, the one a son, and theother a daughter, we should marry them to each other. Not to forgetour promises, we exchanged tobacco-pouches. To tell you the truth,not having heard of the Giulianics for so many years, I had all butforgotten my promise, and I daresay he looked at his own pledge as akind of joke. On receiving your letter, however, I at once wrote tothis old friend, sending him back his gold-embroidered pouch andredeeming mine. He at once wrote back a most affectionate letter,saying that he was but too happy to give his daughter to the youngman who had saved Ivanka's life, but, apparently, had stolen away herheart. Therefore, my dear son, you may henceforth consider yourselfengaged to the girl of your choice; and may the blessing of God andof the holy Virgin rest on you both for ever.

  "Your mother wishes me to tell you not to forget your prayers morningand evening, to try and keep all the fasts, and to light a candle toSt. Nicholas whenever you go on shore, so that he may keep you fromstorms and shipwrecks. Besides, she bids me tell you, that if youwant more underclothing, to write to her in time, so that she mayprepare everything you need.

  "Your loving father,

  "Milos Bellacic."

  Whilst Milenko was reading this letter, doubt returned several timeswithin his heart, and began to gnaw at it. As soon as he hadfinished, he handed it back to Uros, and seeing his honest eyes fixedupon him, as if asking for consolation, all doubts were at oncedispelled.

  "Well," said Uros, "it isn't enough to think that Milena is ill, butall this complication must arise."

  "As for Milena," replied Milenko, "she is much better; here is aletter from my mother, written after yours, in which she says thatshe is quite out of danger."

  Comforted with the idea that the woman he loved was better, Uroscould not help smiling, then almost laughing.

  Milenko looked at him, astonished.

  "After all, this is your fault," said Uros.

  "Mine?"

  "Of course; you would insist in allowing old Giulianic to believe youwere myself; now there is only one thing left for you."

  "What?"

  "To act your part out."

  "I don't quite understand."

  "Go to Nona, and marry Ivanka at once; when married, Giulianic willhave to give you his blessing."

  "Oh! but----"

  "But what?"

  "I don't think Ivanka will consent."

  "If she loves you she will. I wish it was as easy for me to marryMilena as it is for you to wed Ivanka."

  "But wouldn't it be better to get the father's consent?"

  "Old people are stubborn; once they get a thing into their heads,it's difficult to get it out again."

  "Yes, but if----"

  "With 'buts' and 'ifs' you'll never marry."

  "What are you discussing?" said the captain, coming up.

  "Oh! I was simply saying that only a daring man deserves to wed thegirl he loves," said Uros.

  "Of course; don't you know the story of Prince Mathias?"

  "No," replied the young man.

  "Well, then, as we have nothing to do just now, listen, and I'll tellit to you."

  Once, in those long bygone times when rats fought with frogs,tortoises ran races with hares and won them, pussies went about inboots, and--I was going to add--women wore breeches, but, then, thatwould not be such an extraordinary occurrence even now-a-days; well,in those remote times, there lived a King who had a beautifuldaughter, as fair as the dawning sun, and as wise as an old rabbiversed in the Kabala. In fact, she was so handsome and so learnedthat her reputation had spread far and wide, and many a Prince hadcome from far away beyond the sea to offer his hand and heart to thiswonderful Princess. She, however, would have none of them, for shefound that, although they--as a rule--rode like jockeys, drove likecabmen and swore like carters, they were, on the whole, slow-coaches;none of them, for instance, were good at repartee, none could discussGerman pessimism, and all--on the contrary--found that life was worthliving; so she would have nothing to do with them.

  She, therefore, send heralds to all the Courts of Chivalry toproclaim that she would only wed the Prince who, for three successivenights, could sit up and watch in her room, without falling asleepand allowing her to escape.

  Every Prince who heard of the proclamation thought it a good joke,and the candidates for the Princess's hand greatly increased. A hostof _Durchlauchten_ from the most sacred Protestant empire of Germany,flocked--_Armen-reisender_ fashion--and offered to sit up in thePrincess's room for three nights, or even more if she desired it.

  Alas, for the poor Highnesses! every one paid the trial with hislife. The Princess--who knew a thing or two--provided for theirentertainment an unlimited supply of _Lager Bier_, and, moreover--itwas a cruel joke--she had a few pages read to them of the very bookeach one had written, for, in those literary times, every Prince wasbound to write a book. At the end of the first chapter every Princesnored.

  It happened that Prince Mathias--the only son and heir of a queen whoreigned in an out-of-the-way island, which was believed by itsinhabitants to be the centre of the world--heard of this strangeproclamation. He was the very flower of chivalry in those days,strong as a bull, handsome as a stag--though rather inclined to becorpulent--brave as a falcon, and as amorous as a cat in spring-time.He at once resolved to risk his head, and go and spend the threenights in the Princess's bedroom.

  His mother--a pious old lady, an excellent housekeeper, much attachedto her domestics, and known throughout the world as an elegant writerof diaries--did her utmost to dissuade her son from his foolishproject; but all her wise remonstrances were in vain. Prince Mathias,who was not the most dutiful of sons, allowed his mother to jaw awaytill she was purple in the face, but her words went in by one ear andout by the other; he remained steadfast to his purpose. Seeing atlast that praying and preaching were of no avail, Her GraciousMajesty consented to her son's departure with royal grace. She doledout to him a few ducats, stamped with her own effigy, and, knowinghis unthrifty ways, she said to herself: "He'll not go very far withthat." Then she presented him with a shawl to keep him warm atnights, and she blessed him with her chubby hands, begging him to tryand keep out of mischief now that he had reached the years ofdiscretion.

  Mathias, wrapped up in his shawl, went off to seek his fortune. As hewas tramping along the high-road
, he happened to meet a stout,sleek-headed man who was lounging on the roadside.

  The Prince--who was very off-handed in his ways, and not veryparticular as to the company he kept, or to the number of hisattachments, as the Opposition papers said--hailed the stout,sleek-headed man.

  "Whither wanderest thou, my friend?" said Mathias to the loafer.

  "I tramp about the world in search of happiness," quoth he.

  "You're not a German philosopher, I hope?" asked the Prince,terror-stricken.

  "I'm a true-born Dutchman, sir," retorted the loafer, with muchdignity.

  "Give us your paw," said His Highness.

  The friends shook hands.

  "What's your trade, my man?"

  "Well, I'm a kind of Jack-of-all-trades, without any trade inparticular--and yours?"

  "I'll be a kind of general overseer some day or other."

  "Good job?"

  "Used to be much better--too many strikes nowadays."

  "I see; it ruins the trade, does it?"

  "Our trade especially."

  "So?"

  "But what's your name?" asked the Prince.

  "Well, I'm generally known as 'The Big One.' You see, I can stretchout my stomach to such a pitch that I can shelter a whole regiment ofsoldiers in it. Shouldn't you like to see me do the trick?"

  "Swell away!" ejaculated the Prince.

  The Big One thereupon puffed and puffed himself out, and swelledhimself to such a pitch that he blocked up the highway from one sideto the other.

  "Bravo!" cried the Prince; "you're a swell!"

  "I'm a sell," said The Big One, smiling modestly.

  "A cell, indeed! But, I say, where did you learn that trick?"

  "Up in Thibet."

  "You're an adept, are you?"

  "I am," said the loafer.

  Mathias crossed himself devoutly.

  "I say, don't you want to accompany me in my wanderings, in a _sansfacon_ way?"

  "And take pot-luck with you?" said the adept, with a wink.

  Mathias took the hint. He jingled the few dollars he had in hispocket, counted the six gold ducats his mamma had given him, andreckoned the enormous amount of food his new friend might consume. Onthe other hand, he bethought himself how useful a man who couldswallow a whole regiment might be in case of an insurrection; so heshrugged his shoulders, and muttered to himself:

  "There'll be a row at the next meeting of the Witena-gemote, when mydebts 'll have to be paid; but if they want me to keep up appearances,they must fork out the tin." Thereupon, turning to The Big One, headded, magnificently: "It's a bargain."

  "You're a brick," said The Big One.

  On the morrow they met another tramp, so tall and so thin that helooked like a huge asparagus, or like a walking minaret. His name wasThe Long One; and he could, even without standing on tiptoe, lengthenhimself in such a way as to reach the clouds. Moreover, every step hemade was the distance of a mile.

  As he, too, was seeking his fortune, the Prince took him on in hissuite.

  The day after that, as the three were going through a wood, they cameacross a man with such flashing eyes that he could light aconflagration with only one of his glances. Of course, they took himon with them.

  After tramping about for three days, they got to the castle where thewonderful Princess lived. Mathias held a council with his friends,and told them of his intentions. Then he changed his gold ducats,pawned his mother's shawl, bought decent clothes for the tramps, andmade his entrance into the town with all the pomp and splendour dueto his rank.

  As he was travelling _incog._, he sent his card--a plain one withoutcrown or coat-of-arms--to the King of the place, announcing that hehad come with his followers to spend three nights in his daughter'sbedroom.

  "Followers not admitted," replied the King.

  "All right!" retorted the Prince, ruefully.

  "You know the terms, I suppose?"

  "Death or victory!"

  The King made him a long speech, terse and pithy, as royal speechesusually are. The Prince, who listened with all attention, tried toyawn without opening his mouth.

  "Yawn like a man!" said the King; "I don't mind it, do you?" said heto the prime minister, who had written the speech.

  "I'm used to it," said the premier.

  "Well! do you persist in your intention?" asked the King at the endof the speech.

  "I do!" quoth the Prince.

  "Then I'll light you up to my daughter's door."

  Having reached the landing of the second floor, the King shook handswith the Prince and his followers; he wished them good-night; still,he lingered for a while on the threshold.

  Mathias was dazzled with the superhuman beauty of the royal maiden,who was quite a garden in herself, for she was as lithe as a lily, asgraceful as a waving bough, with a complexion like jasmines androses, eyes like forget-me-nots, a mouth like a cherry, breasts likepomegranates, and as sweet a breath as mignonette.

  She could not hide the admiration she felt for Mathias, andcongratulated him especially on never having written a book.

  When the old King heard that Mathias was not an author, he was sosorely troubled that he took up his candle and went off to bed.

  No sooner had His Majesty taken himself off than The Big One went andcrouched on the threshold of the door; The Long One made himselfcomfortable on one of the window-sills; The Man with the FlashingEyes on the other. All three pretended to go off to sleep, but inreality they were all watching the Princess, who was carrying on alively conversation with Mathias.

  "Do you like Schopenhauer?" asked the royal maiden, with a smile likea peach blossom opening its petals to the breeze.

  "I like you," said Mathias, looking deep in the eyes of the younggirl, who at once blushed demurely.

  "But you don't answer my question," she said.

  "Well, no," quoth Mathias; "I don't like Schopenhauer."

  "Why not?"

  "Because we differ in tastes."

  "How so?"

  "You see, I'm rather fond of the girls; he isn't."

  "Of all girls?" asked the Princess, alarmed.

  "All girls in general, but you in particular," added Mathias with awink.

  The young girl thought it advisable to change the conversation.

  After a while the Princess began to yawn.

  "Sleepy, eh?" said Mathias, with a smile.

  "I feel as if a rain of poppies was weighing down my eyelids."

  "Have a snooze, then."

  "I'm afraid you'll feel rather lonely, sitting up by yourself allnight."

  "Oh! don't mind me," said Mathias; "I never turn in very early;besides, I'll have a game of _patience_."

  "But I've got no cards to offer you," said the Princess.

  "I have; I never travel without a pack in my pocket."

  "You're sharp."

  "Sharper than many who think themselves sharp."

  Mathias settled himself comfortably at a table and began to play. ThePrincess undressed, said her prayers, then went off to bed.

  The Prince played one, two, three games; then he felt his throatrather dry, and would have given half of his kingdom for a glass ofgrog; than he began to wonder if there was any whisky in the house.

  Just then, he heard the three men snoring, and the little Princesspurring away like a wee kitten. He stretched his arms and his legs,for he felt himself getting stiff. He then tried to play anothergame, but he could not go on with it; for he kept mistaking thehearts for the diamonds, and then could no more distinguish the clubsfrom the spades. He also began to feel chilly, and was sorry not tohave his mammy's shawl to wrap himself up in. He, therefore, laid hiselbows on the table, and his head between the palms of his hands, andstared at the Princess, whom he fancied looked very much like thesleeping beauty at the waxworks.

  Little by little his eyelids waxed heavy, his pupils got to besmaller and smaller, his sight grew blurred, and then everything infront of him disappeared. Prince Mathias was snoring majestically.r />
  "It took him a long time to drop off, but he's asleep at last," saidthe Princess, with a sigh.

  She thereupon changed herself into the likeness of a dove, and flewout of the window where The Long One was asleep. Only, on making herescape, she happened to graze the sleeping man's hair. He forthwithstarted up, and, seeing that the Princess's bed was empty, he at oncegave the alarm, and woke The Man with the Flashing Eyes, who cast along look in the darkness outside. That burning glance falling uponthe dove's wings singed them in such a way that she was obliged totake shelter in a neighbouring tree. The Man with the Flashing Eyeskept a sharp watch, and the splendour of his pupils, shining on thebird, were like the revolving rays of a lighthouse. The Long Onethereupon put his head out of the window, stretched out his hand amile off, grasped the dove, and quietly handed her to Mathias.

  No sooner had Mathias pressed the dove to his heart than, lo andbehold! he found that he was clasping in his arms, not a bird, butthe Princess herself.

  Mathias could not help uttering a loud exclamation of surprise; thethree men uttered the selfsame exclamation. All at once the door ofthe Princess's bedroom flew open with a bang. The old King appearedon the threshold, with a dip in his hand. His Majesty looked verymuch put out.

  "I say, what's all this row about?" said he; "billing and cooing atthis time of the night, eh?" Thereupon His Majesty frowned.

  The Princess nestled in Mathias's arms, blushing like a peony, forshe saw that the flowing sleeves of her nightgown were dreadfullysinged, and she knew that the colour would never go off in the wash.

  The King, casting a stealthy look round the room, saw the cards onthe little table by the Princess's bed, and pointing them out toMathias with a jerk of his thumb:

  "I see your little tricks, sir, and with your own cards, too;gambling again, eh?"

  Mathis looked as sheepish as a child caught with his finger in ajam-pot. The King thereupon snuffed the wick of his candle with hisown royal fingers, picked up the ermine-bordered train of hisnight-gown and stalked off to bed, without even saying good-nightagain.

  "Your father's put out," said Mathias to the Princess.

  "He's thinking of the expense you'll be putting him to, you and yoursuite."

  "What! is he going to ask us to dinner?"

  "Can't help it, can he?" and the Princess chuckled.

  On the second night the Princess flew away in the likeness of a fly;but she was soon brought back. On the third night she transformedherself into a little fish, and gave the three men no end of troubleto fish her out of the pond in which she had plunged.

  At last the Princess confessed herself vanquished. Mathias had beenthe only one of all her suitors who had managed to get her back everytime she had escaped; moreover, she had been quite smitten by hisjovial character and convivial ways.

  The old King, however, strenuously disapproved of his daughter'schoice. Mathias was not a _Durchlaucht_, he had never written a book,and, moreover, he played _patience_ with his own pack of cards. He,therefore, resolved to oppose his daughter's marriage, and, being anautocrat, his will was law in his own country.

  Mathias, however, presented the King with a packet of photographsthat he happened to have about him; they were all respectable ladiesof his acquaintance, belonging to different _corps de ballet_. Sowhile the King was trying to find out, with a magnifying-glass, whatMiss Mome Fromage had done with her other leg--like the tin soldierin Andersen's tale--Mathias ran off with the Princess.

  Then the King got dreadfully angry and ordered his guards to runafter the fugitives.

  The Princess, hearing the tramp of horses' feet, asked The Man withthe Flashing Eyes to look round and see who was pursuing them.

  "I see a squadron of cavalry riding full speed," said The Man withthe Flashing Eyes.

  "It's my father's body-guard."

  "Hadn't we better hide in a bush, and leave them to ride on?" askedMathias.

  "No," replied the Princess.

  Seeing the horsemen approach, she took off the long veil she wore atthe back of her head, and threw it at them.

  "As many threads as there are in this veil, may as many trees arisebetween us."

  In a twinkling, a dense forest arose, like a drop-scene, between thefugitives and the guards.

  Mathias and his bride had not gone very far, when they heard againthe sound of horses.

  The Man with the Flashing Eyes looked round and saw again the King'sbody-guard galloping after them.

  "Can you dodge them again?" asked Mathias.

  The Princess, for an answer, dropped a tear, and then bade it swellinto a deep river between them and their pursuers.

  The river rolled its massy waters through the plain, while Mathiasand his bride strolled away unmolested.

  Again they heard the sound of horses' hoofs; again the guards wereabout to seize the runaways; again the Princess, drawing herself upin all the majesty of her little person, stretched out her armthreateningly, and ordered the darkness of the night to wrap them upas with a deep shroud.

  At these words, The Long One grew longer and ever longer, until hereached the clouds; then, taking off his cap, he deftly clapped it onhalf of the sun's disc, leaving the royal guards quite in the shade.

  When Mathias and his bride were about ten miles off, The Long Onestrode away and caught up with them after ten steps.

  Mathias was already in sight of his own castellated towers, when theclatter of horses was again heard close behind them.

  "There'll be bloodshed soon," said the Prince to his bride.

  "Oh! now leave them all to me," said The Big One; "it's my turn now."

  The lovers, followed by The Long One and The Man with the FlashingEyes, entered the city by a postern, whilst The Big One squattedhimself down at the principal gate and puffed himself out; then heopened his mouth as wide as the gate itself, so that it looked like abarbican. Thus he waited for the dauntless life-guards, who, in fact,came riding within his mouth as wildly as the noble six hundred hadridden within the jaws of death.

  When the last one had disappeared, The Big One rose quietly, but atthe same time with some difficulty, and tottered right through thetown. It was an amusing sight to see his huge bloated paunch flaphither and thither at every step he made. Having reached the oppositegate, he again crouched down, opened his capacious mouth and spoutedout all the life-guards, horses and all; and it was funny to see themride off in a contrary direction, evidently hoping to overtake thefugitives soon, whilst the Prince, his bride and his suite were onthe battlements, splitting with laughter at the trick played on theirpursuers.

  The old Queen was rejoiced to see her truant son come back so soon,and, moreover, not looking at all as seedy as he usually did after hislittle escapades. Still, she could not help showing herdissatisfaction about two things. The first was that Mathias hadpawned her parting gift; the second that the Princess had comewithout a veil.

  This last circumstance was, however, easily explained; and then HerMost Gracious Majesty allowed the light of her countenance to shineon her future daughter-in-law.

  The Long One was forthwith sent back to the old King, asking him, bymeans of a parchment letter, to come and assist at his daughter'swedding. His Majesty, hearing who Mathias really was, hastened toaccept the invitation. He donned his crown, took a few valuables withhim in a carpet-bag, fuming and fretting all the time at having tostart--like a tailless fox--without his body-guard. Just as he wassetting out, The Long One, stretching his neck a few miles above thewatch tower and looking round, saw the horsemen riding back fullspeed towards the castle. The old King hearing this news, shook hishead, very much puzzled, for he could not understand how thehorsemen, who had ridden out by one gate, could be coming back by theother. The Long One explained to the King (what they never would havebeen able to explain themselves) that they had simply ridden roundthe world and come back the other side. His Majesty, who wouldotherwise have had all his guards put to death, forgave them rightgraciously, and to show Mathias that he bore him
no ill-will, hepresented him, as a wedding gift, with a valuable shawl he had justgot second-hand at a pawnbroker's. That gift quite mollified the oldQueen, and forthwith, as by enchantment, all the clouds looming onthe political horizon disappeared, and the nuptials of Mathias andthe Princess took place with unusual splendour.

  The Princess gave up her freaks of disappearing in the middle of thenight, Mathias never played _patience_ with his own cards any more,and both set their people an example of conjugal virtue.

  High posts at Court were created for the Prince's three friends, andthey, indeed, often showed themselves remarkably useful. Forinstance, if a Prime Minister ever showed himself obstreperous, TheLong One would stretch out his arm, catch him by the collar of hiscoat, and put him for a few days on some dark cloud under which thethunder was rumbling. If a meddling editor ever wrote an articleagainst the prevailing state of things, The Man with the FlashingEyes cast a look at his papers, and the fire brigade had a great adoto put out the conflagration that ensued. If the people, dissatisfiedwith peace and plenty, met in the parks to sing the Marseillaise, TheBig One had only to open his mouth and they at once all went off asquietly as Sunday-school children, and all fell to singing theNational Anthem. Anarchy, therefore, was unknown in a land so wellgoverned, and flowing with milk and honey.