Part 4

Now came the day when the Lord Mayor was to judge the gardens of Kisington-by-the-Sea. In all the towers the bells were ringing merrily, and on every side the flowers and the fair maidens were blooming their brightest. Through the town rode the Lord Mayor in his golden coach drawn by six prancing white steeds, their necks wreathed with flowers; and behind followed a great rout of townsfolk, eager to see the gardens judged. In the Lord Mayor's coach sat Cedric by his father's side. He was dressed all in white, as became a bridegroom, and in his hands he carried a huge bouquet of white roses. His cheeks were white, too, for he was anxious to know what this day should bring, and what maiden was to receive the bridal bouquet.

Through the town the merry procession moved, and stopped in turn before each garden, at the gate of which a sweet maid waited, her little heart going pit-a-pat beneath her prettiest gown. The Lord Mayor inspected each garden carefully, making notes in a little white-and-gold book. And each fair maiden gazed at the handsome Cedric and hoped that the Lord Mayor was writing down her name to be his daughter-in-law!

But all the gardens were so beautiful that it seemed impossible to choose between them. In each the Lord Mayor looked and looked, smiled and nodded,--"Very good! Very good, indeed! Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful! I am truly proud of the fair flowers and the fair maids of Kisington-by-the-Sea. Surely, never such were seen before!"

Then he noted his little memorandum, made a low bow to the maiden, and mounting into the golden coach, whirled away to the next garden. At last, when they had gone quite around the village, they came to the villa of the wicked Countess. The crowd murmured admiringly. There was no doubt about it; hers was certainly the finest garden of all. When the Lord Mayor saw the gay parterres and fountains, the shady alleys and cool grottoes, the wonderful flowers and shrubs growing luxuriantly everywhere, he clapped his hands with pleasure and said:--

"Ah! This is Paradise, indeed! Here surely we must look for our bride. Countess, I congratulate you!"

The Countess was dressed in a most costly gown of white satin and velvet, as though she were sure beforehand that she was to be the bride. She arched her neck and smiled maliciously at the Lord Mayor's son, in whose eyes was no love for her.

"I shall be proud, indeed, to ride in your golden coach!" she said.

Cedric had grown very white, and he looked at the Countess with disgust. She was so much less fair than Gerda, and her eyes so wicked! Must he marry her, after all? Yes, unless the Mermaid had wrought a miracle in Gerda's ruined garden. To that hope he still clung. "Father," he said earnestly, "before you judge that this lady has won the prize, remember that there is one more garden to visit. Have you forgotten the stranger maiden who lives beside the sea, and how you bade her make a garden as the other maids were doing? Let us first go there, for she may be waiting."

"Ho, ho!" laughed the Lord Mayor; "I had in truth forgotten the pretty beggar. It is absurd to dream that she should have a garden worth visiting after that of our Countess here. Yet we will go to see, and do her justice."

The Countess laughed shrilly. "A beggar's garden!" she cried. "That must, indeed, be a wondrous sight!"

"Do you come with us, my lady," said the Lord Mayor politely. "Sit here by my son's side in the Lord Mayor's coach. For I trow that here will soon be your rightful place as his bride."

Now it pleased the Countess to ride in the Lord Mayor's coach; and it pleased her more that she was to see the shame of Gerda and the disappointment of Cedric when Gerda's pitiful little garden should be judged. So with a great rustle of satin and lace she gave her hand to the Lord Mayor and mounted proudly into the golden coach. But Cedric sat beside her pale and silent, little like a happy bridegroom. With a snapping of whips and tooting of horns off they went, rattling through the streets of the town, out over the downs toward the sea.

Behind them followed the townsfolk in a great crowd, wondering exceedingly whither the Lord Mayor was leading them. For they knew of no garden here. Presently, with another flourish and a cracking of whips, amid the barking of dogs and the shouts of little boys, the Lord Mayor's coach drew up in front of the tiny cottage by the sea. And the people wondered more than ever. For there was no garden anywhere to be seen.

The Lord Mayor alighted, chuckling as if it were all a great joke, and helped down the Countess, who was grinning maliciously. Last of all Cedric descended and stood waiting while the Lord Mayor with his staff knocked three times upon the door.

Presently the door opened, and there stood Gerda, dressed all in a gown of sea-green silk, with a string of pearls about her neck and a pink coral wreath in her hair. She was so beautiful that all the people in the crowd cried "Oh!" with a sound like the wind in the top of a pine tree, and the Lord Mayor himself fell back a step, staring in surprise. The Countess turned saffron yellow and bit her lips with envy; but still she smiled; for she knew what she had done to Gerda's garden.

As for Cedric, he stood and gazed as though his eyes were glued to fair Gerda's face, until after a bashful silence of a moment she spoke.

"You have come to see my garden," she said. "It is not like other gardens, but I think it is very beautiful. Will you come with me?"

She led them around the cottage to the meadow beside the sea where once had been the beautiful little garden which the Countess had destroyed. But what was this? Where were the lawns and hedges and beds of flowers? Where was the green grass? Gone! Over the spot lay a sheet of rippling water, reflecting the Summer sky.

"What does this mean?" said the Lord Mayor, turning sternly to Gerda. "I ask to see a garden, and you show me a pool of water. Girl, do you jest at the Lord Mayor?"

"Nevertheless, this is my garden, sir," answered Gerda gently, "and a fair garden I think you will find it, if you deign to look closely."

"Nonsense!" said the Lord Mayor crossly, and "Nonsense!" sniffed the Countess with her nose in the air. But Cedric stepped forward with his eyes shining, for he wanted justice done.

"Father," he begged, "let us go nearer, as the maiden asks, and look at this which she calls her garden. Mayhap we shall find something new to Kisington-by-the-Sea."

For when Cedric saw how sweetly the maid was dressed in colors and tokens of the ocean, his heart leaped with hope that the Mermaid had in some mysterious way redeemed her promise.

"Very well," said the Lord Mayor, frowning. "Let us see what this foolish whim betokens. Show us your garden, girl."

Down the slope they went, followed by the gaping crowd which cast curious looks upon Gerda as she walked by the side of the Lord Mayor's son. "Tell me, what has happened, Gerda?" he asked her, speaking low so that no one else might hear.

"Last night," she whispered, "I went to bed weeping for my lost flowers and my lost hope. But at midnight I was awakened by the roaring of the sea. It grew louder and louder, and at last a great wave seemed to burst over the sea-wall and come foaming up even to the cottage door. I was frightened sorely. But in the midst of my terror I heard a soft voice cry:--

'Fear not, gentle Gerda, and weep no more for your lost flowers. The gardeners of the sea have come to restore your garden. And there will be a fine gown for you. Look for it upon the doorstone in the morning. Farewell!' That was all.

The sea ceased its roaring, and peacefully I fell asleep. In the morning I found upon the doorstone this green gown. And when I looked upon the plot where late my poor little garden bloomed, I saw this. Behold!"

As she spoke they came to the edge of the pool. A chorus of wonder arose from the crowd. The Lord Mayor stood with hands raised gazing down into the pool; and every one else was gazing too, with eyes of admiration.

The water was as clear as glass, and one could see to the very bottom of the hollow which had once held Gerda's unlucky garden. Now the basin was floored with polished mother-of-pearl, with beds and borders of colored shells in lovely patterns. There were lawns of many-hued ocean moss, bordered by shrubs of coral, blossoming in every form and size and color,--spikes and clusters, daisy-stars and bell shapes, all the variety of a flower-garden. Sea-anemones and other living plants opened and shut their tender petals. Delicate sea-ferns like maiden-hair and flowering grasses grew upon rockeries of coral. Hedges of sea-weed, green and brown, yellow and pink, waved their fronds gently in the water as leaves do in the air. And to and fro among the branches of sea-trees moved glittering shapes of gold and silver, pink and pale blue. These were the rainbow fishes,--birds and butterflies of ocean, their delicate fins moving more gracefully even than wings can do.

Dear little sea-horses raced up and down the coral alleys, and luminous forms moved among the sea-weed, lighting the garden with living lanterns. Here and there were grottoes of coral and pretty arbors, and the garden was thronged with a multitude of curious sea-creatures even the names of which no man knows. For the gardeners of Cedric's friend the Mermaid had scoured the ocean to find the rarest and most beautiful wonders which grow in a deep-sea garden, such as no mortal eye ever sees.

After a time the Lord Mayor recovered breath to speak. "Maiden," he said, "however you came by this wondrous ocean-garden I do not care to ask. It is enough that we have such a treasure in Kisington-by-the-Sea. Among all our lovely gardens it is the fairest. Among all our curious flowers these living ones are rarest. I therefore judge that to you belongs the prize."

Then a great cheer arose from the border of the pool where the folk were bending eagerly to study the wonders in the waters below. Even the maidens whose gardens had not won the prize cheered,--all except the Countess. She ground her teeth with rage, for she saw that her wicked plot had been in vain.

The Lord Mayor stepped forward and took Gerda's hand. "Come hither, my son," he said, "and take this fair stranger to be your bride. In this spot where her little cottage stands, I will build for you a beautiful villa."

With a happy face Cedric took Gerda's hand in one of his, and with his other gave her the great bouquet of roses. "I obey my father's wish," he said. He needed not to tell that it was his own wish, too.

Thereupon every one cheered again, waving caps and handkerchiefs, for no one could help loving the beautiful pair and wishing them happiness. Only the Countess stood silent and frowning, looking ugly as a goblin.

When the shouting had ceased, Gerda stepped forward and spoke sweetly to the people. "Kind friends," she said, "I am a stranger to your town, yet my garden has been judged worthy of the prize. But I am sorry for the fair maidens who have so long and faithfully tended their lovely flowers. To me it seems that they also should have a reward. In my garden grows a hedge of plants bearing precious fruit,--the pearl oysters, which you see gaping with the white pearls in their mouths. I would have each maid come and take one for her own."

There was great rejoicing and murmuring of thanks as the maidens came forward one by one and bent over the pool to choose each a precious pearl. The Countess alone hung back. "Come hither, Countess," said the Lord Mayor, when he saw that all others had been rewarded save her only. "Come hither and choose your pearl. You should, indeed, have the finest, for your garden would have won the prize but for these sea-wonders by which it was outdone."

"Choose, fair lady," said Gerda, smiling kindly. But the Countess would not come. "I have pearls enough of my own," she snapped. "I need no charity from a beggar!"

"What!" cried the Lord Mayor, frowning. "Such words are not meetly addressed to my daughter-in-law. Nay, they show an evil heart, Countess!"

"Say that she shall do this, Father," cried Cedric, stepping forward eagerly, for he seemed to hear a secret whisper from the Mermaid prompting him; "else we shall think that she was the wicked one who destroyed another's garden in the hope of winning the prize herself."

At this challenge the Countess came forward sullenly to the edge of the pool. To take the nearest pearl she had to bend low, until her face drew close to the water. Suddenly, the watching crowd saw a flash and a splash and heard a shrill scream. The Countess rose, shrieking horribly. A huge crab had fastened himself to her nose, and not easily could she be freed from this unwelcome ornament! At last they tore away the crab, but the tip of the Countess's nose was gone, and she wore a scar always, even to the end of her unhappy days.

This was the Mermaid's punishment for her cruel harm to Gerda's garden.

But Gerda and Cedric lived happily ever after in the beautiful villa which the Lord Mayor built for them on the edge of their wonder-garden beside the sea. And sometimes the Mermaid herself came there to visit them, and to bring them some new precious thing from the watery world where she dwelt.

IX. THE KING'S COAT OF ARMS

The Red King could not disguise his pleasure in the tale of the Wonder-Garden, though he grumbled when he found there was to be no fighting in it. When Harold had finished reading the story, Red Rex patted him on the head and said gruffly,--

"Good, my boy! You do, indeed, read a tale as well as one would wish. But tell me, now; in what part of Kisington is the place where this Gerda had her Wonder-Garden? Is it far from here?"

"Nay, not far from here," said Harold. "About a mile from our library, by the sea, stands the villa where Gerda and the Lord Mayor's son lived happily ever after. I could show Your Majesty the place, if you were not unfortunately at war with our city."

"I would fain see that place," said Red Rex thoughtfully. "I have a fancy that Gerda, indeed, came from my land. I have heard a legend that one of my great-great-grandfather's own sisters was stolen by the gypsies, and carried away to a far country. It might well be that she ran away from those gypsies, and escaped to this Kingdom, and that it was she whom the Lord Mayor found living lonely by the sea."

"It might well be so!" said Harold. "Oh, Your Majesty! How exciting! Then the Lady Anyse, who lives now at that villa, may be your own far-off cousin."

"She may be, indeed," mused the Red King. "What like is she, Harold?"

"She is tall, and handsome, and has red hair like Your Majesty," said Harold. "I have seen her often when I went to visit the Garden."

"The Garden?" exclaimed Red Rex. "Does the Wonder-Garden, then, still exist?"

"Not quite the same as in the day of Gerda and Cedric," answered Harold, "but yet a wonder-garden. It is called 'The Aquarium' now, and is one of the public gardens of Kisington, given to the town by the will of Cedric and Gerda. The Lady Anyse has it under her care."

"Verily, I should like to visit it and see both its wonders and my long-lost cousin," muttered the Red King.

"What a pity that you are making war upon our city!" exclaimed Harold. "There are so many fine things that cannot be while there is war."

"Yet war must be," answered Red Rex. "And I must be at it straightway." He rose and flourished his sword with a determined air.

"But at least you will spare the east of Kisington, where the Wonder-Garden lay, and not fire gums or arrows in that direction?" suggested Harold, pointing eastward. The Red King followed the direction of his finger.

"Yes, that I will promise," said Red Rex, after a moment's hesitation. "I promise that; lest otherwise I might injure my own blood royal. Because I am King I must not forget that!" He swelled his chest proudly.

"_Noblesse oblige_!" murmured Harold. "It was the motto of the Lion Passant."

"I know that motto well; and what of a lion passant?" inquired Red Rex. "A lion passant is one of the emblems in my own royal coat of arms!"

"Then, Your Majesty has not heard the tale of the Lion Passant?" asked Harold, feigning surprise. "It is one of the best known in our land. You will find your royal lion in the arms of our city of Derrydown; and there is a tale to account for that."

Harold began to smile as if the memory of the tale pleased him.

Red Rex frowned. "It is too late to hear that tale to-night," he murmured.

"Yes, Your Majesty," agreed Harold. "Besides, I cannot tell it by heart. I should have to get the book from our generous library. I can read it better; there is so much in the manner of the writing. It is a pity Your Majesty is in such a hurry to fight, or I might bring that book hither to-morrow and read you the pleasant tale."

The Red King fidgeted. "I am losing time at a terrible rate!" he growled. "Think of what harm I might be doing! When have I wasted hours like this, you wheedling boy?"

"I do not think these hours are wasted. It is war that wastes," said Harold.

"Fudge!" retorted Red Rex; "we must have war. Was that lion a red lion, Harold?"

"A red lion, Your Majesty," nodded Harold.

The Red King grew excited. "I must, then, hear about him!" he cried. "It is my duty.--What ho, there!" he shouted to his men who were making ready to continue the siege. "I have changed my mind. We will not fight for another day. Take this boy back to the city, and proclaim continued truce until he returns to us."

"Your Majesty is wise," said Harold with shining eyes. "I think you will not be sorry to hear the tale of the Lion Passant."

So the crisis was delayed for another day; and Kisington blessed Harold. They made a feast at the poor widow's cottage from presents sent by the Leading Citizens. Richard and Robert sat at the head of the table, one on each side of Harold, and all his other boy and girl friends sat down the sides of the table, and he told them all about his adventure with the besieging King. One and all begged him to let them go with him on the following day. But this, of course, Harold could not promise. He was the only one who could read well enough to charm the War-Lord. They all wished that they had learned to read as well as Harold.

When on the morrow Harold returned to the Red King, this is the story which he read from one of the peaceful books of Kisington--the story of _The Lion Passant_.

X. THE LION PASSANT

A long time ago, in one of the narrowest side-streets of Kisington, stood an old curiosity shop, full of strange things. It was a dark little den inside, so dark that the outer sunshine made the old shopman blink as he stood in the doorway talking with the stranger. The stranger was a Medicine Man, and he had just sold a bottle of his famous Elixir of Life to the old shopkeeper.

"Yes, sir," said the Medicine Man, as he turned to go, "you will find my Magic Elixir all that I claim it to be. It will bring back youth and beauty to the aged. It will give sight to eyes that see not, hearing to deaf ears, speech to the tongue-tied and motion to limbs that have never moved before. It will also cure whooping-cough."

"I hope so," said the old man in an eager voice. He had heard only one word in six of the stranger's talk. "I hope so, for I need it very much. Shall I take it all at once, or--" But already the Medicine Man was halfway down the road, with the gold coin which the old man had given him safe in his deepest pocket. The old man returned into his shop, blinking more than ever, and stumbling over the piled-up rubbish as he went. It was an abominably crowded little room. Each corner, each shelf, each hook in wall or ceiling was occupied. Everything was piled high or filled up with something else.

In the midst of all kinds of curiosities, the Lion Passant stood waiting. He had been waiting there so many years that the Old Curiosity Shop man had quite given up hope that any one would ever come for him. The Lion was very old; older than the shop, older than the old man who kept it, older than anything else in the shop--and that was saying much.

The Lion was cobwebby and scarred; but, notwithstanding, he was a fine figure of a beast. He had been finely carved out of oak and colored a warm gules, though now somewhat faded. He was carved in the attitude of marching along a parti-colored pole of gules and silver. His dexter paw was raised in the air, his red tongue hung out and his tail was curved gracefully over his back. There was something which I cannot exactly describe of grand and dignified about the Lion Passant,--what the books call a "decayed gentility."

The old man stumbled and blinked his way toward the door at the rear of the shop. He was eager to try the Elixir of Life and become young again, and he hurried faster than was wise in the shadowy labyrinth. Just as he was opposite the Lion Passant, he caught his foot in a sprawling chair and stumbled forward, with both arms stretched out to save himself. Away flew the bottle of Elixir, _smash_! against the head of the Lion Passant. The glass shivered into a thousand pieces, and the precious golden drops went trickling down over the carved beast, over the table, onto the floor, where it made a dusty pool about the feet of a cracked china cat.

"Oh, me! Oh, me!" groaned the old man. "All my precious youth wasted, and no money left to buy more! Oh, me! What an unlucky day it is!" And he stumbled out to tell his wife all about it. Now, as soon as he had left the shop, strange things began to happen there.

"Marry, come up!" exclaimed the Lion, licking his red tongue. "I am a-weary of this. My leg is asleep." And he set down the dexter paw, which he had been holding in that position for four hundred years or more.

"Wow!" cried the China Cat from the floor. "My cracks are growing together again! I believe I am as good as new!" And she arched her back and yawned.

The Lion lashed his tail once, to be sure that he could really do it, and looked about the shop in disgust. "I must away!" he said.

"Oh!" cried the Cat, lazily, beginning to lick her paw, as if she had always been doing so since the discovery of China. "You are so restless! Where are you going?"

The Lion stepped gingerly down from his striped pole to the table, and from there to the floor. As he did so, he seemed to increase in size, so that by the time he had reached the shop door he was as large as an ordinary lion. "I am going to seek _Them_," said the Lion, with dignity. "I am, as you see, a Lion Passant, the crest of a noble house. Many years I have been separated from my people. I have waited for Them to come for me. Every time the shop-bell tinkled it has waked an echo of hope in my heart. But They do not come; I must, then, go to Them." He sighed deeply.

"How will you know where to find them?" asked the Cat, respectfully.

"I shall seek Them in the halls of the mighty," said the Lion proudly. "They were of the noblest in the land, I remember."

"By what name shall you know them?" asked the Cat again, who was inquisitive.

The Lion became thoughtful. "The name?" he repeated. "The name? I have forgot the name. But I was the crest that They bore in battle, the figure on their shields, the carving above their hearths."

"Yes, but times have changed, folk say," objected the Cat. "How shall you know your people among the New Ones?"