Yellow-Cap and Other Fairy-Stories For Children

by Julian Hawthorne

CHAPTER X.

AN ABSOLUTE MONARCH.

Upon this tableau the curtain came down; but the applause was really so deafening that all the performers—including, of course, the King and the donkey—had to come out and pass before the footlights: when the donkey got a bouquet, and the King a bunch of turniptops. They then returned to the stage and took their places as before, and the curtain went up again.

During several seconds the King lay quite still, with the Chancellor underneath him; and Yellow-cap began to feel uneasy, for he reflected that if the King should lie still permanently his own position might become awkward. He spoke of this in a low tone to Silvia, who was coquetting with her sweetheart the donkey-driver across the donkey's back.

'No need to be alarmed, your Lordship,' replied she composedly. 'His Majesty is only a little out of breath. The stomach of an hereditary monarch is, you know, the strongest thing about him. He will be all right directly.'

In fact, hardly had she done speaking when the King gave a cough and raised himself to a sitting posture. He really seemed none the worse for what had happened; in spite of which Yellow-cap could not help feeling glad that he had not been in the King's place.

'Where is the Chancellor of the Jingle?' demanded the King as soon as he could speak. 'Why does he not come forward and give his judgment as umpire? Where is he, I say? By my crown and sceptre if he does not appear and answer this instant I will have his head cut off!'

'Pardon me, my dear sir,' said Yellow-cap, 'if I say that the Chancellor would probably have given his judgment before now, if you had not yourself put difficulties in the way of his doing so. You are at this moment sitting upon the man's face, and it would therefore be impossible if not disrespectful for him to say anything until your Majesty has arisen. If you will let me pull you up he will be ready to obey your commands—unless,' he added aside to Silvia, 'he is actually crushed to death.'

'No fear of that,' Silvia replied cheerfully. 'The face of a real Chancellor of the Jingle is the most impenetrable thing about him; and I have no doubt that he is smiling at this very minute.'

And in fact hardly had the King raised himself erect than the Chancellor jumped to his feet, with a most charming smile; and having bowed to the King, to Yellow-cap, and to the audience, he spoke thus:—

'In the drawing of lots his Transparent Majesty King Ormund has been successful; and therefore his Royal Highness Prince Yellow-cap has won the wager.'

'Capital—capital!' exclaimed the King, rubbing his hands and stamping about the stage gleefully. 'But you,' he added, turning to the Chancellor of the Jingle, 'must, of course, have your head cut off just the same.'

At this a couple of halberdiers approached and laid their hands on the culprit's shoulders.

Yellow-cap had at first thought that to lose his head would serve the Chancellor only right; but, as he was averse to bloodshed, and as his own affairs seemed to be going on so prosperously, he resolved to be merciful.

'Allow me a word,' he said. 'Since I have won the wager I thereby succeed to King Ormund's throne and sceptre, and by virtue of the power in me vested I do hereby extend to the Chancellor my royal clemency. Loose him, halberdiers, on your allegiance!'

The halberdiers hesitated; and King Ormund, stroking his beard meditatively, said, 'I'm not sure about this. You haven't been crowned yet, you know.'

'At all events I am as much king as anybody here,' Yellow-cap replied firmly. 'And meanwhile I advise anybody who cares to keep his head on his shoulders to obey my commands.'

'I'll tell you what we might do,' exclaimed the King brightly: 'we might draw lots——'

'No; I refuse to leave affairs of State to chance. But, in order to oblige you in every way I can, I will appoint the Chancellor of the Jingle referee. He shall decide whether or not his head is to be cut off; and I promise to abide by his decision.'

'Hum!' said the King. 'Ha! well, that certainly does seem fair. Besides, one must have some consideration for the poor donkey. I agree, then. Now, Mr. Chancellor, what is your decision?'

'My head stays where it is, please your Majesty,' replied the Chancellor promptly.

'It's astonishing what a run of luck you are having!' exclaimed the King, turning to Yellow-cap, with a sigh of admiration. 'Pray, are you as fortunate in love as you seem to be in everything else?'

At this question there rose in Yellow-cap's mind the picture of a little square room, with bright walls and clean sanded floor; a churn in one corner, and a brightly polished tin pan upon the dresser in place of a looking-glass. In this room stood a lovely young girl, with tears in her eyes, but a smile dimpling her rosy cheeks. She was looking up with a loving glance at a young man, who was fastening round her neck, by a bit of ribbon, the half of a spade guinea. Yellow-cap passed his hand over his eyes: the picture had vanished.

'What are you dreaming about?' said the voice of Silvia in his ear. 'The half of a brass farthing is just as good, if you will only think so. And you have not yet answered his Majesty's question.'

'Ah! I beg pardon,' muttered Yellow-cap. 'I—what did you say? I—yes—that is—no! No, I am not so fortunate in love as I seem to be in other things. Ah me! Rosamund!'

'Well, well,' said the King, with a particularly arch look, 'I dare say we shall be able to do you a good turn in that way too.'

'Is this the place where kings are crowned?' demanded Yellow-cap.

'Certainly; where else could it be?' returned the King.

'Then I will be crowned this moment,' said Yellow-cap in the commanding tone which he had found it best to use towards these London people. 'Is there an Archbishop present? And let somebody fetch a throne!'

'Here is the throne, please your Worship,' said the half-witted youth, leading forward the donkey.

'And here is the Archbishop, at your service,' said one of the persons in the white dominoes, making a bow.

'That won't do,' said Yellow-cap sharply. 'You are the Prime Maniac—only you have shaved your moustachios.'

'That makes all the difference, please your Highness,' replied the other humbly.

'And now I look at you again,' continued Yellow-cap, 'I think I remember you before you were a Prime Maniac. I remember you when you were only three feet high.'

'It is all the same,' answered the other again. 'I rise to the occasion.'

'Well, it makes no difference, I suppose,' said Yellow-cap, after a pause, bestriding the donkey's back. 'Now for the crown!'

King Ormund took the crown from his brow and handed it to the Archbishop, who put it on Yellow-cap's head, over the yellow cap. Then all the courtiers round about murmured their congratulations, the audience that filled the theatre shouted 'Hooray!' and 'Encore!' the ex-King clapped him on the shoulder and said, 'Bless you, my boy!' and Silvia whispered in his ear, 'Now you are King!'

'Long live King Yellow-cap!' roared everybody.

'How do you like it?' asked Ormund pleasantly.

'I feel about as I did before,' replied the new King, in a slightly disappointed tone. 'How much does this crown weigh? Haven't you a lighter one?'

'No; and you won't find that one grow any lighter,' said Ormund, with a chuckle. 'But if you don't feel any difference I do! I am ten years younger already. I am positively light-headed.'

'Well, at all events I am a King!' said Yellow-cap.

'And now,' observed Ormund, rubbing his hands and glancing at Silvia, 'since the coronation is over, what do you say to our having the wedding?'

'Yes—yes; the wedding!' echoed all the courtiers.

Silvia arranged the ribbon at her throat, looked coquettishly at King Yellow-cap, and murmured in his ear—

'What says your Majesty? There is no time like the present.'

'Wedding!' repeated King Yellow-cap, turning from one to another. 'Whose wedding?'

'Whose but your own, gracious liege!' replied the courtiers.

'My own! Nonsense! Whom should I marry?'

'Whom but Silvia, most puissant prince?' said the courtiers again.

'Silvia? Why, she is barmaid at the inn! And besides, she is engaged to marry somebody else.'

'Ah, you mean the Prince of Sprats,' remarked the ex-King. 'But that match is broken off. Since you are on the throne he is in opposition, and can only be considered a pretender; but Silvia is a princess of the blood, cousin-german of the dynasty, and Columbine into the bargain; so she can marry nobody but you.'

'That fellow who owns the donkey the Prince of Sprats?' cried Yellow-cap. 'He the son of King Ormund?'

'Prince Assimund—yes. I spoke to you of him yesterday. A little queer in the head, you know, but that is only a sign of his royalty.'

'All this may be so,' replied Yellow-cap, stroking his chin; 'but as to my marrying Silvia—that seems rather sudden.'

'Not more sudden than agreeable, if I were in your place,' observed the ex-King, with a twinkle in his eye which made the pit laugh.

'Besides,' continued Yellow-cap, 'I have an indistinct notion that once—somewhere—I loved—but, no! What with the cap and crown together I can remember nothing. And perhaps Silvia may be she, after all; she looks something like her; but yet——'

'If your Majesty will let me hang this half of a brass farthing round your neck,' interrupted Silvia, 'you will have no more doubts about the matter.' And as she spoke she held the farthing towards him, with a mischievous smile.

'But don't you care at all for Assimund?' he asked her.

'The interests of the State are supreme,' returned Silvia with a grand air.

'Well, if I must, I must,' said King Yellow-cap rather ungraciously. 'But I thought the Kings of England could do what they pleased.'

'Oh, dear, no,' exclaimed the Archbishop, 'Magna Charta forbid!'

'Then I wish——' began Yellow-cap.

But he paused. What had he left to wish? He stretched out his hand to take the half of the brass farthing.

At that moment there was a great noise and confusion at the back of the stage, and half the audience sprang to their feet, supposing that the theatre had caught fire. But out of the confusion was dragged forward a sort of cart, in which a number of persons were seated, with veils over their faces, and their hands tied behind their backs. Yellow-cap saw that one of these persons was a woman.

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