Part 11

There was a movement at the door. A crowd of the castle people poured into the room, and parting, opened a lane for a young man, a stranger, who advanced rapidly from the door; a very fat young man, with a round, pink face and round, blue eyes, who wore hanging from his shoulders the skin and head of a seal.

“Brother!” cried the seal’s sister.

“Yes,” said the fat young man, “it’s me; and a pretty little time I’ve had among the walruses, I can tell you;” and he bowed low at the same time to the King.

“Have you some business with us, young sir?” said the King.

“Venison steak and hasty pudding,” said the fat young man, with his eye on the supper table. “Oh; I beg your pardon. I am the milk man.”

“Milk? We want no milk here,” said the King.

“It’s for the Princess,” said the fat young man. “To be taken externally. Good for lumbago, rheumatism, sprains, chilblains, strawberry rash--”

“What is this fellow talking about?” said the King, in exasperation.

“Brother!” said the young woman, his sister, fixing him sternly with her eye.

“Rub a little on her shoulder,” said her brother. “Direct from the White Walrus on the Twelfth Ice Floe, and the walruses nearly ate me alive before I got it; but here it is. Excellent for all sorts of skin and blood diseases, as well as--”

“Brother!” said the young woman, sternly.

“I beg your pardon,” said the fat young man; and with a very grand manner he took out of his pocket an oyster shell, and pried it open with a knife from the table. On the lower half of the shell was a spoonful of white liquid.

_The Seal Introduces His Liniment, Guaranteed to Cure in All Cases_

“Very convenient milk bottle,” said he; and waving the King aside he stepped up to the Princess and went on pompously, as if he were making a speech:

“I will now,” said he, “in the presence of the entire company, and openly before you all, so that you may see that no deception is practised upon you, apply a modicum of my liniment to the shoulder of the young lady, at the point where I perceive a stain of red, rubbing the same in gently thus, with a downward motion of the first two fingers of the right hand, thus, and thus, and thus.”

He poured the white liquid from the shell on to the red spot on the Princess’s shoulder, and rubbed it in gently, talking all the while.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” he went on, “I call your attention to the effects of this lotion when properly applied. It is warranted to be very efficacious in all cases of-- But see; she lowers her hand; she moves her foot; she speaks; she--”

“Father!” cried the Princess, and threw herself into her father’s arms.

“Hurrah!” I shouted, and all the company cheered, until the rafters rang again.

“Let the castle people retire,” said the King, and he led the Princess to the table, where he seated her at his right hand, wiping his eyes and blowing his nose. When we were all at table, the sorcerer told his tale, and not until he had heard it to the end would the King permit the meal to proceed. I observed that the son of the assistant carol singer was very attentive to the seal’s sister; and as for the fat young man her brother,--during the repast, which lasted a full two hours, he spoke not a word.

At the end the King begged him to relate the story of his enchantment and his sister’s, and he readily consented; whereupon he commenced, without being asked a second time,

THE STORY OF THE TALKING SEAL AND HIS SISTER

“You must know,” he began--

_“I am very sorry,” said the Princess Dorobel, interrupting, “but it is Bojohn’s bedtime, and I fear we shall have to hear this story another time.”_

_“Oh, mother!” said Bojohn. “I couldn’t go to sleep if I tried. Please don’t--”_

_“No, my dear,” said the Princess Dorobel, “not to-night. Pray go on with Alb’s story, Solario.”_

When the seal’s story was finished (said Alb), the King begged the One-Armed Sorcerer to remain with him as his friend and adviser; and this the sorcerer consented to do.

“And now,” said the King, turning to me, “what reward shall be yours? I will deny you nothing.”

I knelt before him, and made my request boldly. I knew that my whole future hung upon that moment.

“The hand of my lady Princess,” said I, “if she is willing.”

“What do you say, my dear?” said the King.

The Princess said nothing, but turned red as a rose, and buried her head on her father’s shoulder. She was mine! I took her hand in mine and kissed it.

“_That’s_ settled,” said the King. “And you, sir,” said he to the fat young man, “what gift shall I bestow upon you?”

“A little more of the custard pie, if you please,” said the fat young man.

THE FIFTH NIGHT

THE CITY OF DEAD LEAVES

_Solario was sitting cross-legged on his worktable, and before him, in a row, sat the Executioner, Bodkin, Bojohn, Prince Bilbo, the Princess Dorobel, and the Queen._

_“This _time,” said Bojohn, “we want to hear the story of Montesango’s Cave.”_

_Solario shook his head. “The story is too dreadful altogether,” said he. “I fear you would lie awake all night if--”_

_“Then tell us about the Roving Griffin,” said Bodkin._

_“Or the Blind Giant,” said Bojohn._

_“I am very curious myself,” said the Princess Dorobel, “to hear the story of the seal and his sister. What do you say, mother?”_

_“I remember very well,” said the Queen, dropping her knitting in her lap, “I saw a seal once when I was a young girl, and a very curious creature it was, too, I’m sure. I’ve never forgotten it, because I was on my way to be married to your father,--of course he wasn’t your father then, you know,--and I think the day I saw the seal was the day your father was expected to meet us, or the day before, I can’t be quite certain now, it’s so long ago; and we were waiting for him by the seashore,--but no, we weren’t expecting him on that day, because he had sent a messenger to say that he couldn’t start until all the horses were shod, and the blacksmith was just getting over the measles. I remember that messenger very well; a small, dark man with a beard, by the name of--what was his name? Something like Manniko, or Finnikin,--no, it was Tallboy. That was it. Tallboy. He didn’t stay with the King very long after we were married, because his sister’s youngest boy was taken down with the--”_

_“Grandmother!” said Bojohn. “Solario is waiting to go on.”_

_“Dear me,” said the Queen, “so he is. I’m glad I brought my knitting with me to-night.”_

_“I am sure,” said Prince Bilbo, “we would all be glad to hear about the seal and his sister.”_

_“Your will is my pleasure,” said Solario, very prettily, “and I will therefore now commence the story of--”_

_Here there was a sharp cry from outside the room door._

_“Let me in!” piped up a voice, loud and sharp as a whistle._

_Mortimer the Executioner opened the door, and at first glance there appeared to be no one there. But Bojohn cried out, “It’s the Encourager!” And there, on the sill, was in fact the tiny figure of the Encourager, no taller than a sparrow, carrying his umbrella folded under his arm. He opened the umbrella, and leaping into the air floated up with it to the Executioner’s shoulder, where, folding the umbrella again, he stood bowing to the company._

_“Dear me,” said the Queen, “I believe it’s the Encourager of the Interrupter.”_

_“If there’s anything going on,” piped up the Encourager, in his shrill voice, “I don’t want to be left out!”_

_“Then sit down, Mortimer,” said Prince Bilbo, “and let the Encourager hear the story too.”_

_The Executioner seated himself, and the Encourager sat down on the Executioner’s shoulder and gazed solemnly at Solario with his beady black eyes._

_“Ahem!” said Solario, clearing his throat and picking up his shears. “I will now, with your majesty’s gracious permission, proceed with the story as it was related to the assembled company at Ventamere by the seal, and by Alb the Fortunate to myself. This, then, is_

“THE STORY OF TUSH THE APOTHECARY, AND OF PARAVAINE HIS SISTER.”

I must tell you (said the fat young man), that I am an apothecary, and my name is Tush.

_“We had a Lord Treasurer once,” interrupted the Queen, “whose name was Filch. It seemed so odd.”_

My name is Tush; and this damsel, my sister, who was lately a Ragpicker, is known as Paravaine. So much for that. I now proceed to the catastrophe which begins my tale, and I hope you will pardon me if I pause at times to wipe away a tear.

We were left alone at an early age, my sister and myself, without kith or kin, and we dwelt together in the city of our birth, the city of Fadz--you have heard of Fadz? A seaport of the Kingdom of Wen, a city of ships and conversation; and in that city we dwelt quietly together, and there I kept my shop.

My sister, as you may see by looking at her, was beautiful in the highest degree; and I am bound to admit to you that she was not a little vain of her beauty, and prized admiration above all things in the world. Regarding myself, I may say that I was considered to be quite handsome, though a trifle fat.

In the art of inventing remedies I greatly excelled; and I would beyond a doubt have succeeded in my profession, but that I was much given to the making of songs and the tasting of rare dishes, and these two occupations consumed the greater part of my days. My sister, on her part, applied herself so diligently to the adornment of her lovely person before the mirror, that she had scarcely time for anything else. In consequence, my business and my house fell into neglect; and another apothecary, a tuneless fellow in a neighboring street, who knew not beef from mutton, took away all my trade. But such is the fate of your true artist, the world over.

I forgot, in the application necessary for the composition of songs, the foolish moneys which I chanced to owe here and there, and at length (so dead to the finer things of life is the coarse mind of trade), I could find no one who was willing to trust us any longer, even for the meanest knuckle of the least respectable portion of a pig. I burn with indignation when I think of it,--but I proceed.

_The Misfortunes of Tush the Apothecary_

I soon found out what monsters in the shape of men--However. Certain churls, men of no character, no elevation, no refinement,--forgive me; I am not quite myself; these men, if I may call them men, to whom I owed, I believe, some trifling sums of no account, came to my shop one morning in a body, fifteen or so; and if you can believe a thing so monstrous, they seized, they tore away, they loaded into oxcarts in the street, in the broad light of day, all the goods of my shop and all the furnishings of my house. I wept, I threatened, I raved; but all to no purpose. They answered never so much as a word; they departed, and left my sister and myself without so much as a chair to sit on, or one coin to jingle against another.

_“Now that,” said the Queen, “was going entirely too far. However did they expect the poor man to sit down?”_

One thing I entreated them to spare me, my Perfection Cream, a salve or ointment of my own invention, warranted to relieve in all cases of affliction of the skin; a remedy which I had compounded many years before, and had tried once or twice on myself with good results. Of this, having never sold any, I had on hand, in little jars, a quite considerable quantity. They left me this, with contempt; and my sister, observing it, begged them to spare to her of her own possessions one thing only, her mirror, a handglass backed with blue enamel, with a long handle of the same; and this also they granted, not without a jeer.

We sat for a long time upon the barren floor; and then we rose, and shaking the dust of the place from our feet, we departed, never to return. In a pouch at my side I carried my Perfection Cream, and in her hand my sister carried her blue mirror; and thus we went forth, to try our fortunes in the world.

We sought the wharves, designing to take ship for some distant clime; and we found, in fact, a vessel loading for a voyage. The ship’s master was sitting on a bale, directing the porters, and I addressed him politely, explaining our case. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head; but he happened to turn around and catch sight of my sister, and his manner changed. He jumped to his feet, bowed, and begged us to come aboard.

In effect, we sailed away. My heart was light again. The city faded behind us, the sunlight sparkled on the waves; and I was none the less happy because I had not the least idea where we were going. I composed a song regarding life on the ocean wave, and sang it with ecstasy, until my sister begged me to stop.

The master of the ship treated us with distinguished courtesy; I could not help contrasting his conduct with that of the cold-blooded men who had-- But I resolved to think of them no more. I gave myself up to the pleasures of the voyage.

_They Find Themselves on an Unknown Shore_

On the third day, when we were sailing offshore in a light breeze, my sister came to me in tears. The master of the ship had demanded that she marry him, as the price of our passage. I went to him at once, and remonstrated with him patiently. It was no use. He was set upon marrying my sister. We left the matter to Paravaine herself, and she rejected the proposal with scorn. “You see!” said I, throwing up my hands in despair. “Yes, I see,” said the mariner. “You wish to go ashore. I will not detain you any longer.” The ship was brought in closer to the shore, a boat was lowered, and my sister and myself (I assure you the black-hearted scoundrel bowed to us politely to the last)--my sister and myself were landed on a sandy beach, and the ship sailed away.

_“Now isn’t that a perfect shame,” said the Queen. “And such a nice young man, too.”_

We stood for a time in silence, petrified with despair. A vast, treeless plain stretched away beyond the beach, far as the eye could see; there was no human habitation anywhere. Not an ounce of food nor a copper coin did we have between us,--nothing but my Perfection Cream and my sister’s blue mirror. We were at our wits’ end.

“Let us sit down and think what we had better do,” said I, and I led my sister to a brown rock embedded in the sand at no great distance. It was a large rock, round and smooth, and we sat down with our backs against it, gazing mournfully at the Great Sea, where it sparkled in the sunlight. It was a beautiful sight, and I began to think up a new song.

_“I always used to say,” said the Queen, “that the sea was a very pretty thing, but the King never could abide it. He used to get_ so _sick! And he finally declared he would never put his foot on a boat as long as he-- Dear me! I remember a sailor on one of our trips who had a parrot that used to talk--Oh, dear! Such things as he did say! Oh, dear! Oh, dear! When I think of them!”_

_“All right, grandmother,” said Bojohn. “Go on, Solario.”_

As we sat there (said the fat young man) with our backs against the brown rock, I amused myself by plucking away idly certain blades of long brown grass which fringed the lower portion of the rock near my hand; and these blades I twined, scarce thinking what I did, into a ring of a size to fit a finger. Instead of putting it on my own finger, I took my sister’s hand and placed the ring, jestingly, on the first finger of her right hand.

_The Startling Effect of Making a Ring of Grass_

No sooner was this done than a kind of groan came from the rock. The sand on which we sat heaved and shuddered. It rose beneath us, and we were lifted slowly into the air; and when we were higher than a man’s height above the ground we were thrown off on to the beach, and we were looking up at a monstrous creature in the shape of a man, who had risen up under us from beneath the sand. He was chocolate brown in color, and he towered above us full seven yards or more. The rock against which we had been sitting was, as we now perceived, his head; he had been lying, no doubt asleep, on his stomach under the sand, completely covered except for his head. We had been sitting above his buried shoulders, and leaning against the back of his head; and from this head, all bald but for a fringe of hair at the bottom, I had plucked the hairs which I had thought were grass.

“A genie!” I cried, and pulled my sister to her feet in fright.

The genie opened his mouth in a great yawn, and stretched his mighty arms; and as he breathed out again, jets of flame shot from his nostrils. He was bare, except for a wide cloth twisted around his middle from waist to thigh, and in the waistband he wore a long, curved scimitar, which flashed in the sun. He spread his hands out before him and bowed low.

“Were you asleep in the sand?” said my sister, recovering her wits first.

He bowed again.

“What do you want with us?” said my sister, becoming bolder.

“I await your commands,” said the genie, in a voice like the roaring of a waterfall.

“Oh!” said my sister. “Is it the ring of hair on my finger? Is that it?”

He bowed again, extending his hands.

“Then please! please! take us away from here!” cried my sister.

“What is it you seek?” said the genie.

“We seek the best thing in the world!” cried my sister. “Take us where we may find it!”

“What do you mean by the best thing in the world?” said I to my sister.

“I don’t know,” said she; “but the genie ought to know, and he’ll take us where we may find it. Won’t you?” said she, looking up at him.

“Hearing is obedience!” said the genie, and little jets of fire spurted from his nostrils.

“Where will you take us?” said I.

“I will take you where you may find the best thing in the world,” said the genie. “And if you find it, it will be the best thing in the world for me too, because it will release me from the power of the One-Armed Sorcerer, who dwells in an island far out in the Great Sea. If you don’t find it, it will be your own fault, and in that case,--beware!”

“This sounds pretty doubtful,” said I.

“No matter!” cried my sister. “We will find it. Take us there at once!”

_They Start Upon a Journey Through the Air_

The genie stooped down over us, and under his right arm he gathered me up, and under his left arm he gathered up my sister. He stamped upon the earth so that it shook, and leaped into the air; and in an instant we were soaring over the treeless plain, and I was sick with dizziness. Higher and higher we mounted, with the speed of an arrow; we seemed to be flying straight into the face of the sun; I could no longer tell which was sea and which was plain below. I closed my eyes.

It was a long time before I opened them again. We were lower, and I could see the plain, flat and grassy, without a tree. The sun declined, and still we kept our course; I thought we should soon be at the end of the world; and still there were no trees anywhere on the plain below us.

I ached in every limb; I cried out, but the genie did not hear me; and when I was ready to faint with exhaustion his speed suddenly relaxed, and I saw, at the edge of the horizon before me, what was, or seemed to be, a city. And still there were no trees.

Scarcely a moment passed before the city rose in plain view; and with a swoop the genie descended upon the earth, and we were standing, all three of us, before a gate in the city wall, and my sister was arranging her hair before her mirror.

A tall and muscular man stood beside the gate, as if on guard. He was chocolate brown in color, and he was bare except for a wide cloth twisted about his middle from waist to thigh, and in his right hand he carried a scimitar, which flashed in the sunlight. I looked around for the genie, but he was gone.

“What city is this?” said I to the Guardian of the Gate.

“It is the City of Dead Leaves,” said the man. “What do you seek in the city?”

“We are seeking,” said my sister, “the best thing in the world. We were told that we would find it here.”

“Ah!” said the Guardian, looking at my sister. “You are she who has come to save the King’s brother. Come with me.”

He led the way through the gate, and we found ourselves in an alley of high walls, along which we followed him for some distance, coming out upon an open plot of grass, surrounded by the same high walls in a circle. As we approached it, I smelled a familiar fragrance, the fragrance of orange blossoms; and I thought with some regret of the groves upon our slopes at home.

_The Orange Tree and the Panther_

In the center of this plot was an orange tree. It was green with foliage and white with blossoms; the odor was delicious. Under the tree, prowling stealthily around it, was a panther. I drew back in alarm. “Do not go too close,” said our guide. “It is death to touch the tree.”

I had no desire to approach that terrible beast, and we gave him a wide berth as we proceeded around the rim of the grassplot to an opening in the opposite wall. We passed through that opening into a city street; a street of glass, as it seemed, for the front wall of every house was made of glass; and within, in every case, was a kind of storeroom, piled up with something which looked like dead leaves. In the greater houses these rooms were piled quite full; in the meaner there were only little mounds; but much or little, they appeared to be on exhibition, as if in pride.

“The treasures of our people,” said the Guardian of the Gate. “Dead orange leaves. Our most precious possession. The wealth and station of each citizen are gauged by his store of dead leaves. It is of course only proper to put them where they may be seen. But come; the King’s brother awaits us.”

I nudged my sister. “The King’s brother!” I whispered. “Here is a chance for you!” She smiled, and glanced into her mirror.

We wound through many streets of glass, and I observed that besides glass the houses contained no material but stone and metal; the absence of wood was very noticeable. We turned down a mean street toward the city wall, and came out upon a common, strewn with refuse of all kinds, and bounded on the further side by the wall. A shelter of canvas leaned against the wall, and beneath this shelter, on a pallet of straw, lay a man in rags. He raised himself on his elbow and looked up at us.

“The King’s brother,” said our guide, and I started back in surprise.

_They Come Upon the King’s Brother in Rags_

He was a young man, and very ugly, but not unpleasant to look at; indeed, his ugliness had something honest and winning in it; and if he had not been so ragged, he might have made a passable appearance. As it was, I laughed to myself at the thought of such a fellow in connection with my beautiful sister.

The ugly young man stood up and bowed politely.

“Is it the first stranger?” said he to the Guardian of the Gate.

“It is,” said the Guardian.

“I am content,” said the young man, casting on my sister a look of admiration.

“Fair lady,” he went on, dropping on one knee and taking her hand, “if you are not pledged elsewhere, I beseech you to accept me as a suitor for your hand. Stay; do not repulse me at my first word, but hear me further, and take time to consider. I am the King’s younger brother; and because I would not marry a lady of his choosing, he has cast me out, swearing that I shall remain in this misery unless I shall marry the first stranger who shall come to our gates. Oh, fortunate hour that brought you here the first of all! I am poor; I do not possess a single leaf; but I will devote myself to you loyally, and I do not think you will regret it. I know, having seen you, that I cannot live without you. Do not refuse me now, but at the end of a week give me your answer.”

He kissed her hand fervently, and arose. I confess that I liked this young man, but of course I could not think of marrying my sister to one so utterly forlorn. I answered for her.

“In a week I will let you know,” said I, and drew my sister away.