The next morning after breakfast the King and Queen held their first
State Council, Prince Clarence, of whose business capacity both his
parents had a great opinion, being given a seat at the board. There
were, it appeared, various measures on the _agenda_ which, as the
President explained, were of the highest political importance, being
concerned with the settlement of such matters as the precise number of
cherries that were to be strung on a stick and sold for a groschen at
old women's fruit-stalls; the dimensions of the piece of jam that a
huckster should be permitted to put in his porridge; whether the
watchmen's horns really needed new mouthpieces, and, if so, whether
these should be of ivory or bone. Questions which had to be given the
fullest consideration and debated at prodigious length before the
Sovereigns could be asked to affix their signatures and seals to the
decrees.
Clarence fidgeted with undisguised impatience, and King Sidney was more
than once under the necessity of raising the golden hand at the end of
his sceptre to his lips in order to conceal an irrepressible yawn. But
at last the state business was disposed of, and the King was able to
introduce his own. It was clear from the vehement wagging of the
Councillors' white beards while he was announcing the Royal intention to
emancipate all Gnomes at present in the Gold mine, that they regarded
the new departure with no great favour. The President himself, although
he admitted that it concerned the Sovereigns more closely than any other
person, pointed out certain objections which he begged their Majesties
to ponder. And Councillor after Councillor rose and protested against
the scheme with the utmost solemnity and prolixity.
Queen Selina, who was now far more eager than the King to have the mine
reorganised on a more paying principle, would have answered the critics
herself, if Clarence had not induced her to leave the reply in his
hands.
"Well," he said, rising, "have you all done? No other gentleman wish to
hear himself talk?... All right then. Now I'll have _my_ little say. Of
course, what the venerable old Father Christmas in the chair told you
was perfectly correct. If we choose to set these little beggars free,
it's no business of anybody but ourselves. The Guv'nor--that is to say,
his Majesty--was merely _telling_ you about it--not asking what you
thought about it. Sorry if you don't approve, but we shall get over it
in time. And really, your objections, if you won't mind my saying so,
are absolutely footling. All they amount to is--because Gold Mines here
always _have_ been worked by gangs of Yellow Gnomes, therefore they must
be for all time. Now that's just the kind of fine old crusted pig-headed
Conservativism that's kept this the stick-in-the-mud Country it is! Look
at the sort of business you've been wasting our time in jawing about
to-day--why, in the country We came from, a Rural District Council would
have settled it all in five minutes if they thought it worth bothering
about at all. Street lanterns and watchmen's horns and old women's
sweet-stalls indeed! If you could only walk through--I won't say one of
our Cities, that might be too much of a shock for you--but through an
ordinary suburb such as we lived in, and saw how things were done
_there_, it would open your eyes a bit, I can tell you! You've been
marking time all these centuries while other Kingdoms have been making
progress. I'll tell you about some of the things we've learnt to do and
use, just as an ordinary matter of course--and you haven't so much as
heard of."
Here he gave them a vivid description of the chief inventions and
discoveries of the last eighty years, from the steam-engine to the
aeroplane, which latter, he declared, put their sixty-stork-power car
completely in the shade.
"If it is the fact," said the President, "that the inhabitants of your
Royal Highness's Country can work such marvels, you must be even
mightier magicians than were they whom our late King so wisely
suppressed."
"You're wrong there, old bird!" said Clarence cheerfully; "no Magic
about it whatever. All done by brains and enterprise, but--and this is
what I am trying to knock into your heads--if we'd been governed by a
set of stuffy old fossils like yourselves--if you'll allow me the
expression--we should never have got a blessed thing so much as
started!"
Many, if not most of the Council were sceptical as to the possibility of
such inventions as Clarence had described, but the good old Baron
assured them that, even during the short time he was in England, and
although it was night, he had witnessed many of them with his own eyes,
thanks to the powerful illuminants which made darkness almost as light
as day. He exhorted his hearers to count themselves fortunate in having
gained Sovereigns who possessed such wondrous powers, since their
faithful subjects would assuredly now enjoy the benefits of them.
"Aye," said the ex-Regent--though possibly not in such good faith as the
Baron. "We shall indeed have reason to congratulate ourselves if his
Royal Highness will graciously teach us how to construct one of these
fire-and-smoke-breathing engines that draw a line of waggons along roads
of iron, or even a mast that will send messages through a thousand
leagues of air."
"You don't want _much_, do you, dear old boy?" said Clarence. "You don't
suppose I can show you how to build a railway train when you haven't got
any of the bally materials or appliances, do you?"
"Your Royal Highness has but to name them, and they shall be procured."
"They're not to be got here," replied Clarence. "If I tried to tell you
what they were, you wouldn't be any the wiser!" He spoke nothing but the
truth, for he had but the sketchiest acquaintance with the composition
of any kind of machinery.
"Perhaps His Majesty," suggested the Marshal, who had long ago taken
King Sidney's measure, "is better able to instruct us in these mighty
secrets?"
"H'm, well, to tell you the truth," confessed the King, "although I've
been in the habit of using railways, motors, electric light, telephones,
and so forth constantly, I can't pretend to more than a general notion
of how they work. Couldn't _make_ any of 'em, you know. Not _my_ line of
business!"
"If that is indeed the case," said the President, "we find it the more
difficult to understand why his Royal Highness should have reproached us
for an ignorance which is no greater than either his own or your
Majesty's."
"I wasn't reproaching you," said the Crown Prince, a little awkwardly,
"I was only telling you how differently things are managed where _we_
come from. But after all, that isn't the point, so we'll say no more
about it. Let's get back to the Gnomes. One of you--I think it was the
gentleman with the grey topknot--objected that there was no other useful
way of employing them, except in the mine. Well, of course, we've
thought all that out," he declared, though, as a matter of fact, the
idea had only just struck him. "We intend to set 'em to work at laying
out a golf links, and when they've done that, we shall keep 'em on as
caddies. They're such nippy little devils that they ought to be jolly
useful.... Ah, naturally, you _wouldn't_ know what Golf is. Well, Golf
happens to be a thing I _do_ know something about. I can teach you
_that_ right enough. It's simply the greatest game going, and you'll be
grateful to me for introducing it. Don't worry," he added, as some of
the Council expressed dissent, "nobody's asking you to learn unless you
like. I shouldn't say myself that any of you--except perhaps the
Marshal--was very likely to shape into a 'plus' man. I fancy _he's_ got
the makings of a golfer in him, though, and, once I've got the course
laid out and given him a lesson or two, I bet you'll see he'll be as
keen as mustard."
Before the Council broke up, the ex-Regent undertook that, as soon as
Clarence had selected the ground, the Gnomes should be removed from
their present quarters, and placed under the Crown Prince's directions.
"Never again, Sidney," declared the Queen afterwards, "will you and I
sit through one of those tiresome councils! We'll leave them to manage
their own silly business, and if there's anything that requires our
signatures, they can bring the papers to us, and we'll sign them in our
own rooms. If there should be any difficulty, we can always ask the
Marshal--he's so very sympathetic and helpful."
"Very," said the King, "oh, very--that is, I half fancied now and
then--but I believe he means us well. Yes, on the whole, my dear, I
think he's a person we can trust."
"You needn't _think_ about it, Sidney," she replied; "you can feel
absolutely _certain_ that there's _nothing_ that man wouldn't do for
us!"
CHAPTER VII
A GAME THEY DID NOT UNDERSTAND
With regard to the Royal visit to the Gold Mine, it should be mentioned
that, on returning to the Palace, the Queen and Princess Ruby had met
Daphne in one of the galleries. Ruby ran to her impulsively: "Oh, Miss
Heritage!" she cried, "we've had a ripping afternoon. Such fun throwing
money to the people, and seeing them scramble for it! We saw the Gold
Mine. And all the darling little Gnomes! You _would_ have loved them! I
do wish you had come with us!"
"I fully intended to have arranged for you to do so, Miss Heritage,"
said Queen Selina, with unwonted graciousness. "But with so much to
think of----! Do you happen to know where my other ladies-in-waiting
are?... In the Tapestry Chamber? Then I must get you to show me to it,
for I don't know my way yet about this immense house.... Through here?
Yes, you will accompany me--in fact, I particularly desire you to be
present."
At her entrance the Maids of Honour all rose from their seats and made
obeisances which, but for the Court Godmother's revelations of their
ancestries, would have occasioned their Sovereign agonies of
embarrassment. But she felt she could face them now without _mauvaise
honte_, and indeed with all the assurance of superiority.
"You may sit down, _girls_," she said, and although they found it hard
to believe at first that they could be the persons thus addressed, they
sat down.
"And what are you all about?" she inquired. "Embroidery, is it? The
pattern seems rather large.... Oh, tapestry? I _see_. I prefer a bright,
cheerful paper on the walls to any tapestry myself. Only collects dust.
Now if you were to knit some warm woollen jerseys for those wretched
little Gnomes, who are really in _want_ of them, you would be doing
something useful. But that wasn't what I--ah, to be sure, I remember
now. I looked in to tell you, girls, that I have appointed Miss Heritage
here as my First Lady-in-waiting. You will be careful to address her in
future as 'Lady Daphne,' and treat her in all respects as your equal in
rank.... I don't know why you should look so surprised." (If they did,
it was merely that any such recommendation should be thought necessary.)
"Miss Heritage's parentage may, it is true, be obscure--but not more so,
from all I have been told, than that of most of your own ancestresses.
Indeed, I am much mistaken if she has not a better claim to be
considered a lady than any of them. Not that I think mere birth of any
importance myself, but I object to people giving themselves airs without
some real _ground_ for it. I am not alluding to Lady Daphne, whom I have
always found perfectly well-behaved and unpretentious."
This was not perhaps the surest way of endearing Daphne to her new
companions, but then Queen Selina was less concerned to effect that than
to make them pay for the excessive deference she had so mistakenly shown
them in the past.
However, in their simplicity it had never occurred to them that they had
any cause to be ashamed of their descent, and so they never imagined
that their Royal Mistress could insult them with it, and her shafts
missed the target.
Fortunately for Daphne, too, she was already the object of a secret
_schwärmerei_ that left no room in their sentimental bosoms for jealousy
or ill-feeling.
But, not being aware of this as yet, she was rendered only unhappy by
this sudden rise in the Royal favour. Her one consolation was the
certainty that it would not be very long before she was again in
disgrace.
On the afternoon of the day on which the State Council had been held,
the Crown Prince explored the surrounding country with a view to
selecting a golf course.
He found a district which was in every way suitable for his purpose--a
stretch of undulating land in a valley behind the plateau on which the
Palace stood, abounding in natural hazards, and affording great
facilities for artificial ones--in short, an ideal site for any links.
He began laying it out the next morning. The Gnomes were brought out of
the mine and conducted to the spot. The general idea was conveyed to a
Gnome who seemed, on the whole, less devoid of intelligence than his
fellows, and they all set to work with more activity than immediate
result. However, they seemed to take kindly to their new industry, and
Clarence was very well pleased with them. He had had no experience in
golf-architecture himself, but the nature of the ground was such that it
required but little to turn it into a very sporting course indeed, and,
if the Gnomes did not do much else, they constructed some remarkably
cunning bunkers.
While they were thus engaged he ordered several sets of clubs to be
made from rough designs of his own by a master artificer in Eswareinmal,
who carried them out with considerable skill and fidelity. The
implements he produced may not have been quite according to Club
standards, but they were fairly serviceable. The balls seemed at first
likely to be the main difficulty, but some were discovered on the
toy-stalls in the market square which, though not of rubber, were
composed of a substance that proved an admirable substitute. They were
certainly open to one objection that, in ordinary circumstances, might
have disqualified them--they cost considerably under a farthing each.
But Clarence got over that by paying a ducat apiece for them. And then,
as the work progressed but slowly, he was forced to wait with what
patience he could until the links were ready for practising on.
It does not take long for most people to get accustomed to any
surroundings, no matter how novel, and Queen Selina and her family soon
became acclimatised. Now that her household had lost their terrors for
her, she began to enjoy the sensation of being a Queen and inspiring
reverence and awe wherever she went, though she could have wished to be
the ruler of a Kingdom that was not quite so _outré_ as Märchenland.
However, she felt she must take it as it was, and in a short time she
had almost forgotten that there ever had been a period when she had not
occupied a throne.
Princess Edna, though she frequently protested that her rank had no
charms for her, was ready enough to assert it on all occasions, and
exercised authority over the unfortunate ladies-in-waiting to a degree
that might have rendered their lives a burden to them if they had been
able to take her as seriously as she did herself, which they were not.
"Mother," she remarked one day, "I've been quite shocked to find how
appallingly ignorant our Maids of Honour are. Fancy, they've never heard
of Shakespeare, or Ibsen, or Bernard Shaw, or--well, anybody!"
"My dear," said the Queen, "what can you _expect_ from such a set of
giggling, empty-headed minxes?"
"I know. Still, I feel it a duty to do what I can to improve their
minds. I shall bring down my note-book this afternoon. It's got all my
notes on those lectures on English Literature I attended last Autumn. I
thought I'd read them aloud to them. It would give them a very good
general idea of the subject. Enough, at least, to enable them to talk
about it without exposing themselves."
"I'm sure, Edna dear, it's most sweet of you to trouble about them."
"Oh, since I have to live with a Court, I must try and raise it to a
more intellectual level."
And so that afternoon, while the ladies of the Court were engaged, under
the Queen's supervision, in knitting little woollen garments of
shattering hues for the unsuspecting Gnomes, the Princess Royal produced
her note-book and read aloud extracts which gave an impressionist
bird's-eye view of English Literature from the fourteenth to the close
of the nineteenth Century.
No doubt the lecturer had given his audience credit for some previous
acquaintance with the subject, and it may be that Princess Edna's method
of note-taking had been a trifle desultory; it was certain that the
ladies-in-waiting found a difficulty in assimilating the scraps of
literary pemmican she dispensed to them.
They received with polite but languid attention such items as that:
"Shakespeare stands supreme among dramatists for consummate knowledge of
the human heart"; that: "as _Ralph Roister Doister_ is the first pure
comedy, so _The Vicar of Wakefield_ may be termed the first idyllic
English novel"; that: "while Byron possessed more intellect than
imagination, Shelley, on the contrary, was rather imaginative than
intellectual"; and even the statement that: "Browning's 'Ring and the
Book' contains upwards of twenty-one thousand lines" left them unmoved.
It is true they were more interested in hearing that it was: "after he
had come under the spell of Petrarch and Boccaccio that Chaucer produced
his wondrous Tales," but it appeared their interest was due to some
slight misapprehension. Daphne felt the fearful joy of suppressed mirth
combined with the danger of detection as she heard Edna explaining with
laborious patience that she had _not_ intended to convey that the Poet
had been afflicted by a pair of enchanters with any caudal appendages
whatever.
But the Princess Royal could not conceal her disgust when her final
extract, which was to the effect that: "during the closing decade of the
Nineteenth Century England became once more a 'nest of singing birds,'
as was apparent from the stream of fresh and melodious strains issuing
from, among other sources, 'The Bodley Head,'" was greeted with a ripple
of girlish laughter from her hearers. It seemed that this
incontrovertible statement of fact had somehow aroused reminiscences of
another head which, if fresh, had not been precisely melodious on the
luncheon board after the Coronation.
Princess Edna waited with cold dignity until the last giggle was no
longer audible before announcing that she was willing to answer any
questions they might wish to ask her. Upon which Baroness Kluge von
Bauerngrosstochterheimer begged that they might be favoured with the
outline of one of the romances written by the Poet Shakespeare, who they
had been informed by her was so unsurpassed as a story-teller.
Now Edna was undoubtedly well versed in the Literature of her native
land. She could not only have given with tolerable accuracy the names
and dates of the principal authors of each century, but a list of their
best-known works, and an estimate of the rank assigned to them by modern
criticism. She had even, impelled by an almost morbid conscientiousness,
consulted the works themselves, and could honestly assert that she had
read every single play of Shakespeare's all through, though her private
preference was for a more advanced and psychological form of drama.
And yet on this occasion she chose to parry the Baroness's very
reasonable request. "Shakespeare," she said, in her most superior tone,
"did not write romances. He wrote _plays_."
"Will your Royal Highness please," said the Baroness, "to tell us about
one of _them_?"
For the life of her Edna could not just then summon up a clear
recollection of the plot of any Shakespearian comedy or tragedy--and it
is quite possible that there are many persons as highly educated as she
who might be equally at a loss.
"With so prolific a writer as Shakespeare," she hedged, "it is difficult
to single out any particular play."
She was so plainly embarrassed that Daphne felt impelled to come to the
rescue.
"I think, Ma'am," she said, "they would like the story of _The Merchant
of Venice_!"
"I should hardly call it suitable myself to such an audience as this,"
replied Edna, who was possibly confusing it with _Othello_. "No, Miss
Heritage, I really think something less--less objectionable would
be--There's _As you like it_, now, _quite_ a pleasant play. I think I
can remember the outline of _that_. Let me see. Yes, it's about a girl
called "Rosalind," who dressed up as a boy and ran away into a forest,
where she met Ferdinand--or was it Bassanio?--anyway, the name is of no
consequence. Well, and he carved her name on all the trees, and so they
fell in love, and in the end they were married, you know."
As drama this appeared to strike the ladies-in-waiting as lacking in
incident, and the Baroness von Haulemännerschen openly declared that an
ancestress of hers who also ran away into a forest had the far more
exciting experience of being poisoned by a jealous Queen and enclosed by
dwarfs in a glass coffin.
"Oh, very well!" said Edna; "if you are going to compare your own silly
traditions with works of genius, I give you up as hopeless!"
And this was the beginning and the end of the Princess Royal's attempt
to infuse Culture into Court Circles.
She had certainly failed signally to inspire her ladies with any
enthusiasm for English Literature, though, strangely enough, Daphne
succeeded later in giving them a more favourable impression of its
quality.
Edna was, of course, incomparably more widely read, but then Daphne
knew such authors as she had read well enough to be able to give a very
full and clear account of her favourite books, and to repeat many of her
best loved poems from memory.
It is quite possible that much of the pleasure her companions took in
hearing her do so was due to her own personality. They were not, it must
be confessed, a highly intellectual or cultivated set of young women,
but one and all regarded Daphne with a whole-hearted adoration which
would have given Princess Edna, had she condescended to notice it, a
lower opinion than ever of their intelligence.
The links were at last in a sufficiently advanced stage for practice at
the first nine of the eighteen holes, and Clarence undertook to instruct
the Marshal in the mysteries of the game. The Marshal, though slightly
handicapped by insisting on playing in a breastplate and high boots, was
so much encouraged by the success which most beginners at golf
experience that he at once became an ardent votary. He tried to make
converts of the Courtiers, but they preferred to keep an open mind and
remain spectators for the present.
Prince Tapfer von Schneiderleinberg indeed went so far as to say that
golf seemed to him to be without the element of danger which all genuine
sport should possess. He modified that opinion, it is true, after
incautiously standing close behind the Marshal when he was driving off
from the tee, but it did not alter his prejudices against the game.
King Sidney practised most assiduously in private, and found he improved
in his driving under Clarence's tuition. The Gnomes had been established
in a kind of compound near the links, but their unfortunate tendency to
bolt with the club-bags and purloin every ball they found rather
impaired their usefulness as caddies. Marshal Federhelm treated his with
regrettable inhumanity.
There was still a good deal of "ground under repair" on the course, but
the day was drawing near when the links could be formally opened. The
Marshal was anxious to celebrate the occasion by challenging his Royal
Master to play him a single, a challenge which was conveyed through the
Crown Prince.
"Well, what do _you_ think, my boy," asked King Sidney. "Can I beat
him?"
"I think you ought to, Guv'nor. He fancies himself at it--but he's
pretty rotten."
"In that case, you can tell him I accept," said the King.
But on the morning before the day, Clarence, after watching his parent
top and slice and foozle through a whole round without intermission,
became less sanguine.
"I tell you what it is, Guv'nor," he said, frankly, "the Marshal's been
shaping a bit better these last few days, and it's my belief he can give
you a stroke a hole and win easy."
"After all," said the King, "I'm not sure there isn't a certain loss of
dignity--playing with my own subject, don't you know."
"It won't do to let him lick you, certainly," agreed Clarence.
"Quite so, my boy, quite so. I was thinking--I might be prevented by
sudden business--I could go and sit with the Council, you know."
"He'd only want you to fix another day for playing him. It's no use,
Guv'nor, you can't get out of it now. Perhaps you'd do better if you
played with a different sort of ball. I must see if I can't get you one
or two."
And that evening he brought his father half a dozen. "They're specially
marked," he said, "so you can't make a mistake over them, and I fancy
you'll find they travel better than any of the Marshal's."
"You've got those golf balls I gave you?" he asked the King at breakfast
next morning. "Mind you don't forget to take 'em."
"I shan't forget, my boy. But what I'm most troubled about is my
swing--there's something wrong with it, only I can't find out what."
"I think it a great pity myself," said Queen Selina, "that you ever
agreed to play this match at all. If you are beaten it will certainly
lower your prestige. But I am sure the dear Marshal has too much tact
not to let you win."
"Don't you worry, Mater," said Clarence. "The Guv'nor's going to win on
his own, hands down!"
"I sincerely hope so. It will be a sad blow to the Throne if he does
_not_."
These remarks did not help much to steady King Sidney's nerves when he
met the Marshal on the links, where, as Monarch, he naturally had the
honour. A large crowd of onlookers from the Court had collected, and the
players had decided to dispense with caddies under the circumstances.
The first hole was only about a hundred and sixty yards; a deep gully
lay between, and on either side of the approach were beds of tall
rushes.
King Sidney addressed his ball for some time in agonising indecision
before he finally drove off. A cloud of sand rose; the ball was nowhere
to be seen, and, taught by experience, he looked behind for it.
"Jolly good shot!" cried Clarence. "Right on the green!"
"Is it, my boy?" said the King. "I can't see it there myself."
"No more can I," Clarence owned, "but I bet you what you like you're on
the pretty, anyway. Your drive, Marshal."
The Marshal smote a mighty blow, and his ball likewise vanished.
Clarence was of opinion that it had gone over the boundary, but the
Marshal was so certain that it was on the green that he declined to
search for it.
"Funny," said Clarence disappointedly, as they neared the pin, "I don't
see your ball anywhere, Pater. Nor yet the Marshal's."
"I fancy mine isn't very far away, my boy," said the King hopefully.
One of the Courtiers who had gone to the hole, called out to say that he
could see a ball marked with a Royal Crown wedged in by the pin.
"By George, Guv'nor!" cried Clarence, "you've holed it in one!"
"Ah," said King Sidney, "I _thought_ I'd got the right direction."
But the next moment both of them were depressed by the announcement that
the Marshal's ball had also landed in the hole. The Courtier had
naturally mentioned his Sovereign's achievement first, but there could
be no possible doubt that the Marshal had succeeded in equalling it.
To have holed out at a hundred and sixty yards is not by any means an
unprecedented feat, but that two players should have done it in
succession was at least a rather remarkable coincidence. It was a severe
disappointment to the King, who had serious doubts of his own ability to
repeat such a performance.
The next hole was a long one, some six hundred yards, over undulating
land with patches of bog; the green was on a hillock protected by
artfully devised bunkers, and the approach was full of difficulties.
The Marshal was given the honour, and, as before, none could follow the
flight of his ball, though he declared with the greatest confidence that
it was straight for the green. King Sidney's drive did not look very
promising, but Clarence assured him that it was probably a longer one
than he thought.
But neither player could locate his ball as they trudged on, and, though
it seemed unlikely that either could have reached the green, they did
not stop to search on the way to it. Still, when they arrived there each
of them was obviously astonished by the discovery that the other had
holed out once more. Even had the distance been less, it seemed to them
that this was stretching the long arm of coincidence almost too far, but
they did not say so; in fact, they both thought it wiser to abstain from
any comment at all. The next hole was some three hundred and fifty
yards, with several extremely tricky hazards, but, contrary to all
reasonable expectations, both King Sidney and the Marshal distinguished
themselves by doing it in one.
At this the King felt bound to make some comment. "Very even game this,
Marshal, so far," he said.
"Very even indeed, Sire!" said the Marshal curtly, and turned aside to
curse under his breath.
However, after they had played the fourth and fifth holes with precisely
the same result, King Sidney became suspicious. "Clarence, my boy," he
said, taking him aside. "It strikes me there's something rather odd
about his play. I can't understand it!"
"_I_ can," said Clarence; "it's plain enough. Haven't you noticed he's
been using a mashie--the _same_ mashie every time? Well, he's bribed or
bullied that pop-eyed little swine of an Astrologer to enchant it for
him--that's what _he's_ done!"
"What a confounded low, ungentlemanly trick!" spluttered King Sidney in
high indignation. "Just when I was beginning to find my form at last,
too! I shall decline to go on with the match. And what's more, when we
_do_ get a Golf Club started, I'll have him blackballed for it!"
"I wouldn't make a row about it if I were you," advised Clarence.
"Not make a row? When he's taking an unfair advantage of me by using
this infernal Magic?--which is unlawful, by Gad, don't you forget
_that_! Why shouldn't I denounce such trickery?"
"Because," said the Crown Prince, "he might say something disagreeable
about it being a case of Pot and Kettle, don't you know."
"Let him!" cried the King. "Let him! I defy him to prove that I've had
anything done to _my_ clubs!"
"Not the clubs," said Clarence; "it's those balls I gave you. I hadn't
meant to tell you, but p'raps I'd better now. I paid that little sweep
to put a spell on 'em. Of course I'd no idea he'd go and overdo it like
this. If he'd been anything of a Golfer he'd have known most of these
holes couldn't be done under three or four. And now he's given you both
away, blast him!"
"It--it's _most_ unfortunate!" said King Sidney. "I--I don't quite see
what to do about it."
"Simple enough," said his son, "pretend not to notice anything and play
it out."
"I suppose I must, my boy, I suppose I must. But I know I shan't play so
well after this--it's quite put me off my game!"
"No, it hasn't, Guv'nor. You'll play up all right, at least if Xuriel
knows his job."
Xuriel apparently did know his job, for the King's ball continued to be
as foozle-proof as the Marshal's mashie.
It would be tedious to describe any further holes. When a bewitched
mashie is pitted against an enchanted ball, there can obviously be none
of the alternations and vicissitudes of Fortune which constitute the
charm of Golf.
When they were at the turn, having halved every hole up to the ninth,
the Marshal had had enough of it. "We are too well matched, Sire," he
said, "and to proceed would only be to waste your Majesty's time, which
is of far more value than my own."
"H'm, well, perhaps we'd better call it a draw and have done with it,"
said the King.
The Court had witnessed the game without excitement or astonishment.
They saw no particular reason why the balls should fail to reach the
hole in one stroke, and did not care in the least whether they failed or
not. The only impressions they received were that Golf was too
monotonous and too easy a pastime to have any attractions for them, and
that nothing should induce them to indulge in it against such
invincible champions as his Majesty and the Ex-Regent.
"I must say, my boy," said the King to his son, as they walked back to
the Palace together, "I wish you hadn't gone to that magician fellow. It
makes it so very awkward for _me_."
"It would have been a jolly sight more awkward if I hadn't. Just think
of the licking you'd have had, what?"
"Yes, yes--but there's your Mother. She's so set against Magic of any
kind. I really don't know what I'm to say to her."
"Well," said Clarence, "I should hope, Guv'nor, you wouldn't be such a
jay as to say anything."
"It might be only distressing her unnecessarily," said the King.
"Sidney!" exclaimed the Queen when they met, "I can see by your face
that you've been beaten after all!"
"Not at all, my love, not at all. Far from it!"
"Then you've won?"
"Well--er--not exactly _won_, my dear. We--we finished up all square."
"Considering how long you've been learning, that's as bad as if you'd
lost. Now, mind what I say, Sidney, you must never attempt to play golf
again after this. I cannot have you making yourself ridiculous!"
"I think you're right, my dear," he said meekly. "In fact, I had already
decided to give it up."
Clarence clung to his Golf as long as he could, but he found it dreary
work going round the course alone. None of the Courtiers could be
induced to learn the game, and he felt a natural reluctance to take on
the Marshal as an antagonist, even if the latter had continued to be
keen. But he had conceived a strong distaste for the game, and it was
rumoured that there had been a stormy interview between him and the
Astrologer Royal, who kept his bed for several days afterwards.
And Clarence, as the Yellow Gnomes were impossible as caddies, had to
carry his own clubs, which he particularly detested. So in course of
time he ceased to visit the links, and thus deprived himself of his only
form of open-air exercise.
There was nothing much for him to do, except to lounge and loaf
aimlessly about the Palace, with a depressed suspicion that he was not
inspiring the full amount of respect that was due to his position as
Crown Prince. It would have been a distraction to make advances to
Daphne, but, after his somewhat cavalier treatment of her at the Ball,
he could not be sure how they would be received. Moreover, either by her
own management or his Royal Mother's, he was never given a chance of
seeing her except in public.
He found a resource in gambling with the gentlemen of the Royal
Household. They played for high stakes, but no higher, seeing that he
could replenish his purse as often as it was emptied, than he could well
afford. His visits to the sacks of gold in the King's Counting-house
became more and more frequent, but he would have derived more enjoyment
from cards if he had won occasionally.
One afternoon when, the usual card-players being absent on some hunting
expedition, he was left to his own devices, he wandered forlornly
through a suite of empty halls till he drifted out upon a balcony that
overlooked the Palace gardens.
And then, as he stepped through the window, his heart gave a sudden
leap. At the corner of the balcony he had just recognised Daphne. She
was quite alone, and he recognised that the opportunity, half-feared,
half-desired, had come at last.
CHAPTER VIII
"A STEED THAT KNOWS HIS RIDER"
Daphne turned and saw Prince Clarence almost immediately, and, after
making the prescribed curtsey, was about to retreat indoors when he
stopped her.
"I say, Lady Daphne," he remonstrated, "don't run away like that!"
"Your Royal Highness will be good enough to excuse me," she said; "I
ought to be with Princess Ruby by this time."
"_She's_ all right--trying to teach the Pages hockey in the Entrance
Court. And--look here, you needn't be so beastly formal--with _me_, you
know."
"I may remind your Royal Highness that you desired me to observe the
strictest etiquette."
"Did I? I only meant in public. Let's drop it just now, anyway. I've
been wanting to get a talk with you. You see, you're the only person
here I can really talk to; and if you only knew how awfully hipped and
depressed I'm feeling----"
"Are you?" she said. "I'm sorry." And there was certainly pity in the
soft grey eyes which rested on him for a moment or two.
"I give you my word," he went on, "there are times when I almost wish
myself back at the office again. There were things to be done there,
even if I didn't do 'em. Here there's nothing--except cards. It
wouldn't be so bad if the chaps here only knew Auction--I could hold my
own at that. But you couldn't play bridge with the sort of packs they've
got in this God-forsaken country. So they've taught me a bally game they
call 'Krebsgriff,' and I've lost over two sacks of ducats at it already.
Anyone would think after _that_ they'd treat me as a pal, but not a bit
of it!"
"Perhaps, Sir, they're afraid of being rebuked for such presumption."
"Perhaps, but I don't think it's that. They're polite enough and all
that, to my face, but they don't look _up_ to me, you know!"
"Why _should_ they?" Daphne thought, but all she said was, "That's very
sad."
"Isn't it?" he said; "they don't give me a chance to show what I _can_
do. I could knock their silly heads off at golf, and they won't even
learn! And now I can't get a game; and this afternoon, when _I_ was
feeling inclined for cards, they all go off to the forest without a word
to me, hunting beastly boars and bears, and I'm left without a soul to
speak to."
"They might have asked you to do them the honour of coming too," said
Daphne.
"I couldn't very well have gone if they had. You see, they hunt boars
and that on horseback here, and riding's a thing I've never gone in
for."
"It's not too late to begin, Sir."
"Well, to tell you the truth, I did think at one time of taking a few
lessons. But I don't know. You see, it would get about, and--well,
people would think it rather ridiculous."
"I should have thought--" began Daphne; "no, I mustn't say any more."
"Oh, go on, Lady Daphne, don't mind _me_! What would you have thought?"
"Well," said Daphne boldly, "that nothing could be so ridiculous as a
Crown Prince who can't sit a horse."
"I daresay I could as well as any other fellow, if I tried."
"No doubt, sir, but if you never _do_ try."
"I would, if I thought you cared."
"Of course I care, Prince Clarence," said Daphne. "Naturally, I should
like to see you doing everything that other Princes do. You really
aren't, so far, you know. I suppose I oughtn't to have said that--I
couldn't help it."
"That's all right," he said. "There's one thing," he added, thinking
aloud, "if I _did_ learn to ride decently, you and I might go out riding
together, what?"
"It's rather early to talk about that," said Daphne, "when you haven't
even begun to learn."
"I know, but I _will_ begin. For _your_ sake."
"No, Prince Clarence, for your own," she replied, "though I shall be
glad, too. And now, I mustn't stay here any longer."
Why, he asked himself, after she had gone, was she so keen on his
cutting a figure at Court? The answer was obvious--he had interested and
impressed her more than he could have hoped. But that, he shrewdly
perceived, only made it more necessary for him to be wary. She was
certainly a most fascinating girl, but if she had any ambitious designs
on him, she would find that he was quite capable of taking care of
himself. Still, she was right about his riding. Every Prince ought to be
able to ride. It would not take him long to learn. And when he could
ride he would go out hunting. She would think a lot more of him when
she saw him returning in triumph with a few boars and bears as trophies of the chase |
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