The Little Lame Prince and His Travelling Cloak
Page 1
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The Little Lame Prince
By Miss Mulock
Pictures By Hope Dunlap
The Little
Lame Prince
and
His Travelling Cloak
by
Miss Mulock
With Pictures
by Hope Dunlap
Rand McNally Co Chicago New York London
Copyright, 1909, by Rand-McNally & Company All rights reserved Entered at Stationers' Hall Edition of 1937
Made in U. S. A.
[Illustration : Contents]
Contents
PAGE
Chapter I 9
Chapter II 19
Chapter III 31
Chapter IV 43
Chapter V 53
Chapter VI 65
Chapter VII 81
Chapter VIII 91
Chapter IX 99
Chapter X 113
"_Take care, don't let the baby fall again._" _Page 15._]
The Little Lame Prince]
CHAPTER I.
Yes, he was the most beautiful Prince that ever was born. Of course,being a prince, people said this: but it was true besides. When helooked at the candle, his eyes had an expression of earnest inquiryquite startling in a new-born baby. His nose--there was not much of itcertainly, but what there was seemed an aquiline shape; his complexionwas a charming, healthy purple; he was round and fat, straight-limbedand long--in fact, a splendid baby, and everybody was exceedinglyproud of him. Especially his father and mother, the King and Queen ofNomansland, who had waited for him during their happy reign of tenyears--now made happier than ever, to themselves and their subjects, bythe appearance of a son and heir.
The only person who was not quite happy was the king's brother, theheir-presumptive, who would have been king one day, had the baby notbeen born. But as his Majesty was very kind to him, and even rathersorry for him--insomuch that at the Queen's request he gave him adukedom almost as big as a county,--the Crown Prince, as he was called,tried to seem pleased also; and let us hope he succeeded.
The Prince's christening was to be a grand affair. According to thecustom of the country, there were chosen for him four-and-twentygodfathers and godmothers, who each had to give him a name, and promiseto do their utmost for him. When he came of age, he himself had tochoose the name--and the god-father or godmother--that he liked best,for the rest of his days.
Meantime, all was rejoicing. Subscriptions were made among the rich togive pleasure to the poor: dinners in town-halls for the working men;tea-parties in the streets for their wives; and milk and bun feasts forthe children in the schoolrooms. For Nomansland, though I cannot pointit out in any map, or read of it in any history, was, I believe, muchlike our own or many another country.
As for the Palace--which was no different from other palaces--it wasclean "turned out of the windows," as people say, with the preparationsgoing on. The only quiet place in it was the room which, though thePrince was six weeks old, his mother the Queen had never quitted.Nobody said she was ill, however; it would have been so inconvenient;and as she said nothing about it herself, but lay pale and placid,giving no trouble to anybody, nobody thought much about her. All theworld was absorbed in admiring the baby.
"_All the people in the palace were lovely too--orthought themselves so, ...from the ladies-in-waiting down ..._"]
"_The poor little kitchenmaid ... in her pink cottongown ... though doubtless, there never was such a pretty girl._"]
The christening-day came at last, and it was as lovely as the Princehimself. All the people in the palace were lovely too--or thoughtthemselves so, in the elegant new clothes which the queen, who thoughtof everybody, had taken care to give them, from the ladies-in-waitingdown to the poor little kitchenmaid, who looked at herself in her pinkcotton gown, and thought, doubtless, that there never was such a prettygirl as she.
By six in the morning all the royal household had dressed itself inits very best; and then the little Prince was dressed in his best--hismagnificent christening-robe; which proceeding his Royal Highness didnot like at all, but kicked and screamed like any common baby. When hehad a little calmed down, they carried him to be looked at by the Queenhis mother, who, though her royal robes had been brought and laid uponthe bed, was, as everybody well knew, quite unable to rise and put themon.
She admired her baby very much; kissed and blessed him, and lay lookingat him, as she did for hours sometimes, when he was placed beside herfast asleep; then she gave him up with a gentle smile, and saying "shehoped he would be very good, that it would be a very nice christening,and all the guests would enjoy themselves," turned peacefully over onher bed, saying nothing more to anybody. She was a very uncomplainingperson--the Queen, and her name was Dolorez.
Everything went on exactly as if she had been present. All, even theKing himself, had grown used to her absence, for she was not strong,and for years had not joined in any gaieties. She always did her royalduties, but as to pleasures, they could go on quite well without her,or it seemed so. The company arrived: great and notable persons in thisand neighboring countries; also the four-and-twenty godfathers andgodmothers, who had been chosen with care, as the people who would bemost useful to his Royal Highness, should he ever want friends, whichdid not seem likely. What such want could possibly happen to the heirof the powerful monarch of Nomansland?
They came, walking two and two, with their coronets on theirheads--being dukes and duchesses, prince and princesses, or the like;they all kissed the child, and pronounced the name which each had givenhim. Then the four-and-twenty names were shouted out with great energyby six heralds, one after the other, and afterwards written down, tobe preserved in the state records, in readiness for the next time theywere wanted which would be either on his Royal Highness's coronationor his funeral. Soon the ceremony was over, and everybody satisfied;except, perhaps, the little Prince himself, who moaned faintly underhis christening robes, which nearly smothered him.
In truth, though very few knew, the Prince in coming to the chapel hadmet with a slight disaster. His nurse--not his ordinary one, but thestate nursemaid, an elegant and fashionable young lady of rank, whoseduty it was to carry him to and from the chapel, had been so occupiedin arranging her train with one hand, while she held the baby with theother, that she stumbled and let him fall, just at the foot of themarble staircase. To be sure, she contrived to pick him up again thenext minute, and the accident was so slight it seemed hardly worthspeaking of. Consequently, nobody did speak of it. The baby had turneddeadly pale but did not cry, so no person a step or two behind coulddiscover anything wrong; afterwards, even if he had moaned, the silvertrumpets were loud enough to drown his voice.
It would have been
a pity to let anything trouble such a day offelicity.
So, after a minute's pause, the procession had moved on. Such aprocession! Heralds in blue and silver; pages in crimson and gold; anda troop of little girls in dazzling white, carrying baskets of flowers,which they strewed all the way before the nurse and child,--finally thefour-and-twenty godfathers and godmothers, as proud as possible, and sosplendid to look at that they would have quite extinguished their smallgodson--merely a heap of lace and muslin with a baby-face inside--hadit not been for a canopy of white satin and ostrich feathers, which washeld over him wherever he was carried.
"_The procession had moved on. Such a procession!Heralds in blue and silver; pages in crimson and gold._"]
Thus, with the sun shining on them through the painted windows,they stood; the King and his train on one side, the Prince and hisattendants on the other, as pretty a sight as ever was seen out offairyland.
"It's just like fairyland," whispered the eldest little girl to thenext eldest, as she shook the last rose out of her basket; "and I thinkthe only thing the Prince wants now is a fairy godmother."
"Does he?" said a shrill but soft and not unpleasant voice behind; andthere was seen among the group of children somebody--not a child--yetno bigger than a child: somebody whom nobody had seen before, and whocertainly had not been invited, for she had no christening clothes on.
She was a little old woman dressed all in grey: grey gown, greyhooded cloak, of a material excessively fine, and a tint that seemedperpetually changing, like the grey of an evening sky. Her hair wasgrey and her eyes also; even her complexion had a soft grey shadow overit. But there was nothing unpleasantly old about her, and her smile wasas sweet and childlike as the Prince's own, which stole over his palelittle face the instant she came near enough to touch him.
"Take care. Don't let the baby fall again."
The grand young lady nurse started, flushing angrily.
"Who spoke to me? How did anybody know?--I mean, what business hasanybody--?" Then, frightened, but still speaking in a much sharper tonethan I hope young ladies of rank are in the habit of speaking--"Oldwoman, you will be kind enough not to say 'the baby,' but 'the Prince.'Keep away; his Royal Highness is just going to sleep."
"Nevertheless, I must kiss him. I am his godmother."
"You!" cried the elegant lady nurse.
"You!!" repeated all the gentlemen and ladies in waiting.
"You!!!" echoed the heralds and pages--and they began to blow thesilver trumpets, in order to stop all further conversation.
The Prince's procession formed itself for returning--the King and histrain having already moved off towards the palace--but, on the topmoststep of the marble stairs, stood, right in front of all, the little oldwoman clothed in grey.
She stretched herself on tiptoe by the help of her stick, and gave thelittle Prince three kisses.
"This is intolerable," cried the young lady nurse, wiping the kissesoff rapidly with her lace handkerchief. "Such an insult to his RoyalHighness. Take yourself out of the way, old woman, or the King shall beinformed immediately."
"The King knows nothing of me, more's the pity," replied the old womanwith an indifferent air, as if she thought the loss was more on hisMajesty's side than hers. "My friend in the palace is the King's wife."
"Kings' wives are called queens," said the lady nurse, with acontemptuous air.
"You are right," replied the old woman. "Nevertheless, I know herMajesty well, and I love her and her child. And--since you dropped himon the marble stairs (this she said in a mysterious whisper, which madethe young lady tremble in spite of her anger)--I choose to take him formy own. I am his godmother, ready to help him whenever he wants me."
"You help him!" cried all the group, breaking into shouts of laughter,to which the little old woman paid not the slightest attention. Hersoft grey eyes were fixed on the Prince, who seemed to answer to thelook, smiling again and again in causeless, aimless fashion, as babiesdo smile.
"His Majesty must hear of this," said a gentleman-in-waiting.
"His Majesty will hear quite enough news in a minute or two," said theold woman sadly. And again stretching up to the little Prince, shekissed him on the forehead solemnly.
"Be called by a new name which nobody has ever thought of. Be PrinceDolor, in memory of your mother Dolorez."
"In memory of!" Everybody started at the ominous phrase, and also at amost terrible breach of etiquette which the old woman had committed. InNomansland, neither the king nor the queen were supposed to have anyChristian name at all. They dropped it on their coronation-day, and itwas never mentioned again till it was engraved on their coffins whenthey died.
"Old woman, you are exceedingly ill-bred," cried the eldestlady-in-waiting, much horrified. "How you could know the fact passes mycomprehension. But even if you did not know it, how dared you presumeto hint that her most gracious Majesty is called Dolorez?"
"_Was_ called Dolorez," said the old woman with a tender solemnity.
The first gentleman, called the Gold-stick-in-waiting, raised it tostrike her, and all the rest stretched out their hands to seize her;but the grey mantle melted from between their fingers like air; and,before anybody had time to do anything more, there came a heavy,muffled, startling sound.
The great bell of the palace--the bell which was only heard on thedeath of some of the Royal family, and for as many times as he or shewas years old--began to toll. They listened, mute and horror-stricken.Some one counted: One--two--three--four--up to nine and twenty--justthe queen's age.
It was, indeed, the Queen. Her Majesty was dead! In the midst of thefestivities she had slipped away, out of her new happiness and herold sufferings, neither few nor small. Sending away her women to seethe sight--at least, they said afterwards, in excuse, that she haddone so, and it was very like her to do it--she had turned with herface to the window, whence one could just see the tops of the distantmountains--the Beautiful Mountains, as they were called--where she wasborn. So gazing, she had quietly died.
When the little Prince was carried back to his mother's room, there wasno mother to kiss him. And, though he did not know it, there would befor him no mother's kiss any more.
As for his Godmother--the little old woman in grey who called herselfso--whether she melted into air, like her gown when they touched it,or whether she flew out of the chapel window, or slipped through thedoorway among the bewildered crowd, nobody knew--nobody ever thoughtabout her.
Only the nurse, the ordinary homely one, coming out of the Prince'snursery in the middle of the night in search of a cordial to quiethis continual moans, saw, sitting in the doorway, something which shewould have thought a mere shadow, had she not seen shining out of ittwo eyes, grey and soft and sweet. She put her hand before her own,screaming loudly. When she took them away, the old woman was gone.