It was not very long before the Prince went away into the adjoining room to wait while Princess Lily dressed herself. “I wonder,” he thought to himself, “how I come to be wearing this suit of chain-mail which I thought was at the other side of the world.”
He did not know that it was not his own chain-mail at all, but a brand-new suit, which old Miss Thomson herself had fashioned for him out of dreams, and put upon him, while the toad was walking, and he himself was only a dream. But it was.
Then he returned to the Princess, and all night long they say together talking, until the moon sank down in the west, and the sun arose and looked in at the casement. And although she had never seen him before, Princess Lily knew that Prince Peerio was her Prince. She told him all about her life at the Castle, of the horrible dreams, and how unhappy she had been all those long years and years. But, as she told him of it, the unhappiness seemed to vanish even from her memory, so that now it all seemed unreal, her life in the tower, her sickly headaches, and her fears.
And then, because that great weight had been pressing on her heart for so long and was now lifted from it suddenly, as suddenly she wept. So that if there were left in her any dregs of sorrow at all, the sweet tears washed them away.
When she was herself once more, her first thought was for her Father, and she told Prince Peerio that if he could win King Courtesy back to be his old self again, he would indeed have made her the happiest Princess in the world.
Very carefully had the Prince listened to all she told him of affairs at the Castle, and especially, at the end, to her account of hearing the Trumpet-call. As he listened, he remembered also sundry things which the little cook at the inn had told him; for he too had spoken of a Silver Trumpet.
Now he was a very wise young Prince (wise in his schooldays, and wise when he started out from home). And not for nothing either had he walked all alone round the world, and been turned into a toad at the end of it. Such adventures are very uncomfortable while they last, but they give a man understanding.
So he knew what to do.
First of all he packed off a messenger to the inn to fetch the little cook, for he could not forget how much he owed to his letter of introduction. That was the first thing he did.
Then he set out to find Aunt Gamboy.
Aunt Gamboy was up in her privy chamber, addressing a large mass-meeting of the Amalgamated**Princesses. I shan’t tell you what she was saying to them, for it was very much like what she had said before to the citizens of Mountainy from her tub in the market-place. Very much like it. And, moreover, she was telling them all to go back to their own countries, in disguise, and there, upon tubs in the different market-places, to say what she had said, and to arouse rebellion and discontent among the citizens. For there was distress at that time in many of those countries. Gamboy was promising, if they would do this, to make them all Queens of those countries.
And they believed her!
But she had no intention at all of doing any such thing. Oh no. For now that she was Queen, she no longer wished her own subjects to be discontented, but she very much wanted the citizens of all the neighbouring countries to rebel. For then, thought she, when they are all in confusion, I will make old Courtesy send great armies among them, and I will subject them all to my rule, and my son shall be King of half the world, Amen.
Then Prince Peerio walked in.
Well, he went straight up to where Aunt Gamboy was standing speaking, he took hold of her, and he bounced her up and down on the floor, just as though he were driving piles, or hammering a nail into his shoe with a poker, or knocking in stumps with a cricket-bat. He did that until he had fairly shaken the breath out of her. Then he did that again. Then he took her under his arm like a holster and marched plonk out of the room with her.
And when he had gone for two or three minutes, those astonished Amalgamated**Princessesshut their mouths again; but not before.
He walked straight into the office of the Head Gaoler. He put Queen Gamboy down on the table, and he said to the Head Gaoler:
“Here!”
Then he went out of the office and up to King Courtesy’s private study, knocked at the door, and went in.
The King was drinking coffee and staring at the cat. The Prince said:
“Good morning, sire. Your daughter is being married tomorrow morning at ten.” But the King only stared at him in a silly way.
So he went to the cupboard, took out the Silver Trumpet, and came downstairs with it.
Then he called the Castle servants about him, and bade them make all preparations for a magnificent wedding. Then he returned to Princess Lily.
“But, dear,” said she, when he told her what he had done, “how am I to marry you
tomorrow when I have no wedding dress?” With that he sounded a little bell, and in came the first maid-in-waiting, who stood there and listened while he told her what to do.
At last the next morning came, and with it the time for their wedding. There was Princess Lily in the beautiful, wide, white dress which her mother, the Queen Violet, had worn on her own wedding-day (for such were the orders Peerio had given to the maid-in-waiting). And there was Prince Peerio himself in his shining suit of bright silver mail with a silver casque on his head and a nodding grey plume to it.
Just before the wedding four stately bearers were sent with a royal litter to the King’s chamber to carry him down. And at first, when he came, he saw nobody, and peering with his white face from the curtained litter seemed not to know where he was. But when he saw Princess Lily standing in her mother’s dress—“My daughter!” he said, and stepped down from the litter. At the same time, by the Prince’s orders, Queen Gamboy was released from gaol and given leave
to attend the wedding. Nor did she stand humbly at the back among the onlookers, as might have been expected, but came boldly forward and stood with sullen, scowling face beside her niece.
Some of the Castle servants, eager to please their new master, started forward to hale her away from there; but Lily stopped them with a wave of her hand and bid them let her be.
Now when the wedding was over and they came out of the Church into the sunlight, Prince Peerio stepped forward, and taking the Silver Trumpet from his baldric, placed it to his lips.
And the sound that came from the mouth of the Trumpet was:
too.
tootity Too
tootity tootity
tootity tootity
tootity tootity
Rooty too.
too. too. too-oo-oo.
Rooty Rooty Rooty
Whereupon the procession stood very still, listening, and waiting for the noise to die away. But just as silence fell, and all were about to move forward again, the Prince raised the Trumpet to his lips a second time, and blew:
too.
tootity Too
tootity tootity
tootity tootity
tootity tootity
Rooty too.
too. too. too-oo-oo.
Rooty Rooty Rooty
Then a third time, and a fourth he blew, and again and again and again, till the air rang to the sweet silver din, and all the world seemed rocking about them like a steeple. Then it was that all eyes were turned upon the Queen, and men saw what they would hardly believe afterwards that they had beheld. For again the queer change came over her face, again the corners of her mouth began to turn up, the wrinkles to leave her forehead, and her eyes to lose their look of cunning.
And still the Trumpet rang on, till the air about their ears felt as solid as water and shook as tempestuously. Her features went on changing and sliding into one another, like clouds over the sky, moving and clearing until there, beside her husband, white-robed and laughing in the sunlight, stood none other than Queen Violet herself!
“Where is the Silver Trumpet?” she cried at once, as she awoke, and looking anxiously round her: “where is the Silver Trumpet?”
“Here, Your Majesty,” said Prince Peerio, walking up and handing it to her with a low reverence.
She took it and gave it to King Courtesy.
“Guard it,” she said; “guard it in the future even at the cost of your life.”
Whereat the stooping King straightened his old back as by a miracle. Now the vague meandering look went out of his clear eyes, and taking the Silver Trumpet from Violet’s hands, he kissed her: “Most gracious lady,” he said, “most gracious lady,” and broke down and wept, declaring that they would guard it together. And so they must have done, for it was never again lost from Mountainy Castle.
And some say that deep down in the grave other features upon another face had been changing too and sliding—that to this day a body, which is Aunt Gamboy’s, lies buried in that churchyard. But no man can point to her grave, and therefore many do not believe in it. For the tombstone that had V. R. engraved upon it, now that Violet was alive, was gradually let fall into ruin, and soon men began to say that there never had been a grave in that spot. And in less than thirty years they were saying that there never had been anybody called Aunt Gamboy at all. But others pointed to the things she had done, to the Amalgamated Princesses, for instance. Why else should they be Amalgamated? And they would also point to the high, stalk-like tower, crumbling now and disused, where Princess Lily had spent so many years of her life. Why should she have hidden herself away up there, they would ask, if Aunt Gamboy had not fastened her claws into her heart? And again, why, they would say, should old King Courtesy have all those white hairs, and Queen Violet none, if Aunt Gamboy had not led him such a dance above the earth, while Violet was sleeping quietly beneath it? So the two parties would argue with one another, and never agree. And as time went on, it became harder and harder to decide which party was right. And it will go on getting harder still, I expect, unless this very story should travel as far as Mountainy. For then of course everybody will know that there certainly was an Aunt Gamboy— very much so. Everybody, that is, except those who will swear it is a forgery. But that is really looking too far ahead.
Now as soon as Prince Peerio saw that King Courtesy and Queen Violet had finished embracing one another, he went up to King Courtesy, who stood bareheaded in the sunlight, trembling with amazement and joy, and handed him his sword. And he asked pardon courteously for the way in which he had taken upon himself to order the King’s servants about that day and the last, hoping that the King would forgive him.
“You shall order them about as you please,” said the King, “for from this day forth you are King of Mountainy, and Lily my daughter is Queen.”
Whereat there was a great shout, and again the Silver Trumpet rang through the air, while the old King and his new-found wife took both hands, threw their hands back, and danced round each other, singing:
“And Lily my daughter is Queen, Tra-la-la.
And Lily my daughter is Queen.”
Up the hill came the citizens—tramp, tramp, tramp—singing in a low threatening tone: “Here we are, here we are,
To make Queen Gamboy sing sol-fa.”
But when they reached the church and heard the news, they cast away their pitchforks and axes, and flung their caps in the air, crying:
“Long live King Peerio and Queen Lily!”
and spread themselves over the grass plot outside the churchyard.
Then from the other direction a party of seven were seen approaching with rapid steps. It was old Miss Thomson, bringing with her the five musicians in the pink coats and curly grey wigs, and yellow stockings, for she had foreseen (witchery old lady that she was) that there would be rejoicing that day, and she had sent for them where they dwelt. But the seventh person was the little cook from the inn.
King Peerio recognized him as he drew near, and sprang forward to greet him and shake his hand for gratitude. But before he could reach him, somebody else sprang forward too, in front of him, crying out:
“Little Fat Podger! Little Fat Podger!”
It was Courtesy. And now, old white-haired Lord Tullywich came forward, and kneeling before his King explained in a thin quavering voice how he had disobeyed his orders, telling him that the Little Fat Podger had died in gaol, whereas in truth he had recovered from his illness; but he, Lord Tullywich, had not had the heart to put him to death. So he had sent him away into hiding at an inn some three miles away, where he and his friends sometimes met for dinner and fun.
“Your Majesty will remember,” went on Lord Tullywich humbly, “that I told you the Dwarf had passed quietly away, and so indeed he did; for he passed quietly away to the little inn under my protection!”
Of course the old King forgave him at once, and thanked him royally for knowing, like a good servant, when to disobey orders.
But the Little Fat Podger himself had not spoken yet, and everyone waited in silence now to hear what he would say. He could only look round smiling and nodding at everyone, with tears in this eyes, saying nothing at all. Yet some of those who stood nearest to him, thought they heard him murmuring to himself:
“All those years washing dishes—it’s as wholesome as a shoulder of mutton to a sick horse—to a sick horse, you know.”
And then suddenly one left shot out, and he would have begun to dance, only he was getting too old now, so he drew it in again thoughtfully, and was heard murmuring to himself:
“And the side-step step—and the side-step step—and the side-step, side-step, side-step— anything jocund!”
You can imagine what rejoicings there were then—what reunions! Between Courtesy and Lily, between Violet and the Little Fat Podger, between Violet and the citizens, between Violet and Lily, who had only been two days old when she last saw her. You can imagine what shouting and laughter there was in the sunshine that morning upon the green plat of grass. Nor was it very long before the fiddlers struck up, and King Peerio himself called the first tune. And these dances were quiet enough for the Little Fat Podger to join in—yes—and even old Lord Tullywich cut a caper or two, for all his white hairs. On and on and on they danced, citizens and courtiers, lords and ladies, kings and queens, till the sun had gone down in the west, and the sky over their heads was cool green and gold. And then they all gathered in a knot round the fiddlers and danced a very old country-dance called “Mr. Barney’s Breeches”. And that was the end.