by Andrew Lang
This is to give warning,
That whoever consorts with, comforts, aids, or abets the said Prince Prigio, is thereby a partner in his treason; and
That a reward of Five Thousand Purses will be given to whomsoever brings the said prince, alive, to our Castle of Falkenstein.
Grognio R.
And here is the second proclamation:
REWARD.
THE FIREDRAKE.
Whereas,
Our dominions have lately been devastated by a Firedrake (the Salamander Furiosus of Buffon);
This is to advise all,
That whosoever brings the horns and tail of the said Firedrake to our Castle of Falkenstein, shall receive Five Thousand Purses, the position of Crown Prince, with the usual perquisites, and the hand of the king’s niece, the Lady Molinda.
Grognio R.
“H’m,” said the prince; “I did not think his majesty wrote so well;” and he would have liked to say, “Don’t you think we might join the ladies.”
“But, sir,” said the ambassador, “the streets are lined with soldiers; and I know not how you have escaped them. Here, under my roof, you are safe for the moment; but a prolonged stay — excuse my inhospitality — could not but strain the harmonious relations which prevail between the Government of Pantouflia and that which I have the honour to represent.”
“We don’t want to fight; and no more, I think, do you,” said the prince, smiling.
“Then how does your royal highness mean to treat the proclamations?”
“Why, by winning these ten thousand purses. I can tell you £1,000,000 is worth having,” said the prince. “I’ll deliver up the said prince, alive, at Falkenstein this very night; also the horns and tail of the said Firedrake. But I don’t want to marry my Cousin Molly.”
“May I remind your royal highness that Falkenstein is three hundred miles away? Moreover, my head butler, Benson, disappeared from the house before dinner, and I fear he went to warn Captain Kopzoffski that you are here!”
“That is nothing,” said the prince; “but, my dear Lord Kelso, may I not have the pleasure of presenting Lady Rosalind with a little gift, a Philippine which I lost to her last night, merely the head and tail of a Firedrake which I stalked this morning?”
The ambassador was so astonished that he ran straight upstairs, forgetting his manners, and crying:
“Linda! Linda! come down at once; here’s a surprise for you!”
Lady Rosalind came sweeping down, with a smile on her kind face. She guessed what it was, though the prince had said nothing about it at dinner.
“Lead the way, your royal highness!” cried the ambassador; and the prince, offering Lady Rosalind his arm, went out into the hall, where he saw neither his carpet nor the horns and tail of the Firedrake!
He turned quite pale, and said:
“Will you kindly ask the servants where the little Persian prayer-rug and the parcel which I brought with me have been placed?”
Lord Kelso rang the bell, and in came all the servants, with William, the under-butler, at their head.
“William,” said his lordship, “where have you put his royal highness’s parcel and his carpet?”
“Please, your lordship,” said William, “we think Benson have took them away with him.”
“And where is Benson?”
“We don’t know, your lordship. We think he have been come for!”
“Come for — by whom?”
William stammered, and seemed at a loss for a reply.
“Quick! answer! what do you know about it?”
William said at last, rather as if he were making a speech.
“Your royaliness, and my lords and ladies, it was like this. His royaliness comed in with a rug over his arm, and summat under it. And he lays it down on that there seat, and Thomas shows him into the droring-room. Then Benson says: ‘Dinner’ll be ready in five minutes; how tired I do feel!’ Then he takes the libbuty of sitting hisself down on his royaliness’s rug, and he says, asking your pardon, ‘I’ve had about enough of service here. I’m about tired, and I thinks of bettering myself. I wish I was at the king’s court, and butler.’ But before the words was out of his mouth, off he flies like a shot through the open door, and his royaliness’s parcel with him. I run to the door, and there he was, flying right hover the town, in a northerly direction. And that’s all I know; for I would not tell a lie, not if it was never so. And me, and Thomas — as didn’t see it, — and cook, we thinks as how Benson was come for. And cook says as she don’t wonder at it, neither; for a grumblinger, more ill-conditioneder — ”
“Thank you, William,” said Lord Kelso; “that will do; you can go, for the present.”
CHAPTER XIII
Surprises
The prince said nothing, the ambassador said nothing, Lady Rosalind said never a word till they were in the drawing-room. It was a lovely warm evening, and the French windows were wide open on the balcony, which looked over the town and away north to the hills. Below them flowed the clear, green water of the Gluckthal. And still nobody said a word.
At last the prince spoke:
“This is a very strange story, Lord Kelso!”
“Very, sir!” said the ambassador.
“But true,” added the prince; “at least, there is no reason in the nature of things why it shouldn’t be true.”
“I can hardly believe, sir, that the conduct of Benson, whom I always found a most respectable man, deserved — ”
“That he should be ‘come for,’” said the prince. “Oh, no; it was a mere accident, and might have happened to any of us who chanced to sit down on my carpet.”
And then the prince told them, shortly, all about it: how the carpet was one of a number of fairy properties, which had been given him at his christening; and how so long a time had gone by before he discovered them; and how, probably, the carpet had carried the butler where he had said he wanted to go, namely — to the king’s Court at Falkenstein.
“It would not matter so much,” added the prince, “only I had relied on making my peace with his majesty, my father, by aid of those horns and that tail. He was set on getting them; and if the Lady Rosalind had not expressed a wish for them, they would to-day have been in his possession.”
“Oh, sir, you honour us too highly,” murmured Lady Rosalind; and the prince blushed and said:
“Not at all! Impossible!”
Then, of course, the ambassador became quite certain that his daughter was admired by the crown prince, who was on bad terms with the king of the country; and a more uncomfortable position for an ambassador — however, they are used to them.
“What on earth am I to do with the young man?” he thought. “He can’t stay here for ever; and without his carpet he can’t get away, for the soldiers have orders to seize him as soon as he appears in the street. And in the meantime Benson will be pretending that he killed the Firedrake — for he must have got to Falkenstein by now, — and they will be for marrying him to the king’s niece, and making my butler crown prince to the kingdom of Pantouflia! It is dreadful!”
Now all this time the prince was on the balcony, telling Lady Rosalind all about how he got the Firedrake done for, in the most modest way; for, as he said: “I didn’t kill him: and it is really the Remora, poor fellow, who should marry Molly; but he’s dead.”
At this very moment there was a whizz in the air: something shot past them, and, through the open window, the king, the queen, Benson, and the mortal remains of the Firedrake were shot into the ambassador’s drawing-room!
CHAPTER XIV
The King Explains
The first who recovered his voice and presence of mind was Benson.
“Did your lordship ring for coffee?” he asked, quietly; and when he was told “Yes,” he bowed and withdrew, with majestic composure.
When he had gone, the prince threw himself at the king’s feet, crying:
“Pardon, pardon, my liege!”
“Don’t speak to m
e, sir!” answered the king, very angrily; and the poor prince threw himself at the feet of the queen.
But she took no notice of him whatever, no more than if he had been a fairy; and the prince heard her murmur, as she pinched her royal arms:
“I shall waken presently; this is nothing out of the way for a dream. Dr. Rumpfino ascribes it to imperfect nutrition.”
All this time, the Lady Rosalind, as pale as a marble statue, was leaning against the side of the open window. The prince thought he could do nothing wiser than go and comfort her, so he induced her to sit down on a chair in the balcony, — for he felt that he was not wanted in the drawing-room; — and soon they were talking happily about the stars, which had begun to appear in the summer night.
Meanwhile, the ambassador had induced the king to take a seat; but there was no use in talking to the queen.
“It would be a miracle,” she said to herself, “and miracles do not happen; therefore this has not happened. Presently, I shall wake up in my own bed at Falkenstein.”
Now, Benson, William, and Thomas brought in the coffee, but the queen took no notice. When they went away, the rest of the company slipped off quietly, and the king was left alone with the ambassador; for the queen could hardly be said to count.
“You want to know all about it, I suppose?” said his majesty, in a sulky voice. “Well, you have a right to it, and I shall tell you. We were just sitting down to dinner at Falkenstein, rather late, — hours get later every year, I think — when I heard a row in the premises, and the captain of the guard, Colonel McDougal, came and told us that a man had arrived with the horns and tail of the Firedrake, and was claiming the reward. Her majesty and I rose and went into the outer court, where we found, sitting on that carpet with a glass of beer in his hand, a respectable-looking upper servant, whom I recognised as your butler. He informed us that he had just killed the beast, and showed us the horns and tail, sure enough; there they are! The tail is like the iron handle of a pump, but the horns are genuine. A pair were thrown up by a volcano, in my great-grandfather’s time, Giglio I.[2] Excellent coffee this, of yours!”
The ambassador bowed.
“Well, we asked him where he killed the Firedrake, and he said in a garden near Gluckstein. Then he began to speak about the reward, and the ‘perkisits,’ as he called them, which it seems he had read about in my proclamation. Rather a neat thing; drew it up myself,” added his majesty.
“Very much to the point,” said the ambassador, wondering what the king was coming to.
“Glad you like it,” said the king, much pleased. “Well, where was I? Oh, yes; your man said he had killed the creature in a garden, quite near Gluckstein. I didn’t much like the whole affair: he is an alien, you see; and then there was my niece, Molinda — poor girl, she was certain to give trouble. Her heart is buried, if I may say so, with poor Alphonso. But the queen is a very remarkable woman — very remarkable—”
“Very!” said the Ambassador, with perfect truth.
“‘Caitiff!’ she cries to your butler;” his majesty went on, “‘perjured knave, thou liest in thy throat! Gluckstein is a hundred leagues from here, and how sayest thou that thou slewest the monster, and camest hither in a few hours’ space?’ This had not occurred to me, — I am a plain king, but I at once saw the force of her majesty’s argument. ‘Yes,’ said I; ‘how did you manage it?’ But he — your man, I mean — was not a bit put out. ‘Why, your majesty,’ says he, ‘I just sat down on that there bit of carpet, wished I was here, and here I ham. And I’d be glad, having had the trouble, — and my time not being my own, — to see the colour of them perkisits, according to the proclamation.’ On this her majesty grew more indignant, if possible. ‘Nonsense!’ she cried; ‘a story out of the Arabian Nights is not suited for a modern public, and fails to win æsthetic credence.’ These were her very words.”
“Her majesty’s expressions are ever choice and appropriate,” said the Ambassador.
“‘Sit down there, on the carpet, knave,’ she went on; ‘ourself and consort’—meaning me—‘will take our places by thy side, and I shall wish us in Gluckstein, at thy master’s! When the experiment has failed, thy head shall from thy shoulders be shorn!’ So your man merely said, ‘Very well, mum, — your majesty, I mean,’ and sat down. The queen took her place at the edge of the carpet; I sat between her and the butler, and she said, ‘I wish we were in Gluckstein!’ Then we rose, flew through the air at an astonishing pace, and here we are! So I suppose the rest of the butler’s tale is true, which I regret; but a king’s word is sacred, and he shall take the place of that sneak, Prigio. But as we left home before dinner, and as yours is over, may I request your lordship to believe that I should be delighted to take something cold?”
The ambassador at once ordered a sumptuous collation, to which the king did full justice; and his majesty was shown to the royal chamber, as he complained of fatigue. The queen accompanied him, remarking that she was sound asleep, but would waken presently. Neither of them said “Good-night” to the prince. Indeed, they did not see him again, for he was on the balcony with Lady Rosalind. They found a great deal to say to each other, and at last the prince asked her to be his wife; and she said that if the king and her father gave their permission — why, then she would! After this she went to bed; and the prince, who had not slept at all the night before, felt very sleepy also. But he knew that first he had something that must be done. So he went into the drawing-room, took his carpet, and wished to be — now, where do you suppose? Beside the dead body of the Firedrake! There he was in a moment; and dreadful the body looked, lying stark and cold in the white moonshine. Then the prince cut off its four hoofs, put them in his wallet, and with these he flew back in a second, and met the ambassador just as he came from ushering the king to bed. Then the prince was shown his own room, where he locked up the hoofs, the carpet, the cap of darkness, and his other things in an iron box; and so he went to bed and dreamed of his Lady Rosalind.
CHAPTER XV
The King’s Cheque
When they all wakened next morning, their first ideas were confused. It is often confusing to waken in a strange bed, much more so when you have flown through the air, like the king, the queen, and Benson the butler. For her part, the queen was the most perplexed of all; for she did undeniably wake, and yet she was not at home, where she had expected to be. However, she was a determined woman, and stood to it that nothing unusual was occurring. The butler made up his mind to claim the crown princeship and the hand of the Lady Molinda; because, as he justly remarked to William, here was such a chance to better himself as might not soon come in his way again. As for the king, he was only anxious to get back to Falkenstein, and have the whole business settled in a constitutional manner. The ambassador was not sorry to get rid of the royal party; and it was proposed that they should all sit down on the flying carpet, and wish themselves at home again. But the queen would not hear of it: she said it was childish and impossible; so the carriage was got ready for her, and she started without saying a word of good-bye to anyone. The king, Benson, and the prince were not so particular, and they simply flew back to Falkenstein in the usual way, arriving there at 11.35 — a week before her majesty.
The king at once held a Court; the horns and tail of the monster were exhibited amidst general interest, and Benson and the prince were invited to state their claims.
Benson’s evidence was taken first. He declined to say exactly where or how he killed the Firedrake. There might be more of them left, he remarked, — young ones, that would take a lot of killing, — and he refused to part with his secret. Only he claimed the reward, which was offered, if you remember, not to the man who killed the beast, but to him who brought its horns and tail. This was allowed by the lawyers present to be very sound law; and Benson was cheered by the courtiers, who decidedly preferred him to Prigio, and who, besides, thought he was going to be crown prince. As for Lady Molinda, she was torn by the most painful feelings; for, much as she hated Pr
igio, she could not bear the idea of marrying Benson. Yet one or the other choice seemed certain.
Unhappy lady! Perhaps no girl was ever more strangely beset by misfortune!
Prince Prigio was now called on to speak. He admitted that the reward was offered for bringing the horns and tail, not for killing the monster. But were the king’s intentions to go for nothing? When a subject only meant well, of course he had to suffer; but when a king said one thing, was he not to be supposed to have meant another? Any fellow with a waggon could bring the horns and tail; the difficult thing was to kill the monster. If Benson’s claim was allowed, the royal prerogative of saying one thing and meaning something else was in danger.
On hearing this argument, the king so far forgot himself as to cry, “Bravo, well said!” and to clap his hands, whereon all the courtiers shouted and threw up their hats.
The prince then said that whoever had killed the monster could, of course, tell where to find him, and could bring his hoofs. He was ready to do this himself. Was Mr. Benson equally ready? On this being interpreted to him — for he did not speak Pantouflian — Benson grew pale with horror, but fell back on the proclamation. He had brought the horns and tail, and so he must have the perquisites, and the Lady Molinda!
The king’s mind was so much confused by this time, that he determined to leave it to the Lady Molinda herself.
“Which of them will you have, my dear?” he asked, in a kind voice.
But poor Molinda merely cried. Then his majesty was almost driven to say that he would give the reward to whoever produced the hoofs by that day week. But no sooner had he said this than the prince brought them out of his wallet, and displayed them in open Court. This ended the case; and Benson, after being entertained with sherry and sandwiches in the steward’s room, was sent back to his master. And I regret to say that his temper was not at all improved by his failure to better himself. On the contrary, he was unusually cross and disagreeable for several days; but we must, perhaps, make some allowance for his disappointment.
