CHAPTER VI.
The work done inside the King's palace was not seen by the multitude, but they saw large pipes laid in the ditches, the ditches themselves filled up, and a long row of tubes rising ten or twelve feet in the air, whose uses they could not divine. But in spite of the diverse rumors still circulated by the Snarlitz faction, the people cheered themselves with the reassuring words of the Princess Amber, and patiently awaited results. This was strengthened by the reports of the workmen who were employed in the palace, and who averred—though they were bound to secrecy—that what was to be done would be a great public benefit. Much speculation was indulged in as to what the secret doings were, but after a time this faded out; the people minded their own affairs, and only talked about the matter occasionally when they passed the tall tubes in the roadway. A guard was placed on the great tank on the hill, and the public at large were forbidden to visit the spot.
And so time passed on until the six-months day had ended, the sun had sunk out of sight, and the twilight had deepened into gloom. Then suddenly bright lights were seen in all the windows of the King's palace, and there issued forth a number of men bearing lighted torches, which they applied hurriedly to the tops of the tubes that lined the roadway down into and along the principal streets of the town.
A steady light was given out by each of these gigantic candles, making the roadway and street light and cheery, while crowds of people came from all quarters to enjoy the novel spectacle.
Count Gofaster was the hero of the hour. Even the adherents of Snarlitz were silenced and forced to admit that the giant had conferred the third great benefit on the state. The King, in his own brilliantly lighted hall of audience, thanked him before the assembled nobles of the Court for the great service he had rendered.
"In due time," said the King, "every street in the town shall be lighted through this means, and if the six months of night be not bright as day, they will at least be rendered enjoyable."
It was now the opportunity of Gofaster to demand the fulfilment of the King's pledge in regard to the man who should confer three benefits on the state and obtain the favor of the Princess.
But Gofaster dared not speak. To his surprise and sorrow, he found that the manner of the Princess was not only less cordial, but shy and reserved, and that she seemed to avoid him. The young giant was not versed in the ways of womankind, and found discouragement in what should have given him hope. He had not studied the proverb, "Faint heart never won fair lady," and reflected much upon his former comparatively low condition, from which he had only been removed by the favor of the sovereign, and which did not seem to warrant a close alliance with the royal family. He became moody, and sank into a kind of hopeless gloom, under which his health suffered. His friend the Prime-minister saw this, but did not conjecture the cause; neither, apparently, did the King nor Princess.
Gofaster withdrew himself as much as possible from the royal presence, and seemed to have no friend to whom he was willing to confide his trouble. He even forgot the Phooka, but the latter did not forget him.
As Gofaster was seated in his apartments, ruminating upon his sad fate, he heard a hollow laugh near him, which he recognized as that of his invisible guardian.
"Clearly," said the goblin, "all human beings are fools, and Count Gofaster seems to be about the biggest fool of all."
The giant did not resent the reproach, for the gratitude toward his benefactor blunted the point of it, if it did not relieve the sting.
"Possibly," he said, in reply. "But why now more than usual?"
"Clearly," answered the other, "because you are breaking your heart about the love of a young woman who is breaking hers because you do not make the proper advances. Do you expect a maiden, setting aside her high rank, to be won without wooing?"
"But I dare not," said Gofaster, despairingly.
"He who dares not is lost," said the Phooka. "I know everything that goes on through the palace, because I pass everywhere without observation. The Princess believes you indifferent to her charms, and is mortified that she has given her heart to one who treats her with neglect. The whole town is talking of it, and wondering why you do not embrace the good-fortune in store for you."
A new light broke in upon the giant's mind. "I shall try," he said.
"Try is the best dog in the pack," said the goblin.
Gofaster now plucked up courage and appeared at the audience—which was given every twenty-four hours—bravely arrayed, and with a cheerful face. He joined in conversation with the friends whom he had made among the nobles, and even ventured to address some observations to the Princess and the ladies of honor around her, the latter of whom received him with marked pleasure. Bit by bit the conversation in this group became general, and finally the Princess herself joined in it, throwing off her reserve. As the two spoke together more freely, the ladies of honor drew back, as if by tacit agreement, and the Princess and Gofaster were left together.
"I have not sufficiently congratulated you, Count," said the Princess, "on your last great achievement."
"Nor have I, your Royal Highness," answered he, "thanked you for the kindly and effective words you spoke in behalf of my project when its success seemed doubtful."
"But I never doubted it or you," said the Princess.
"Princess Amber," said the giant. But here he stopped.
"Well, Count?" said the Princess.
"I have been fortunate enough," said he, "to render three times some service to the state, and might claim some reward for it; but there is only one reward that I desire, and that depends upon your Royal Highness."
"Name it," said the Princess. "Speak freely."
"I would be bold enough to ask your father for your hand were I sure it would meet with approval from you, but I have not had the presumption to hope."
"He who deserves," said the Princess, blushing, "does not presume," and she turned away.
Thus encouraged, Gofaster boldly preferred a request to the King that the royal pledge should be fulfilled. The King smiled good-naturedly, and saying "A King should never break his word," led him to the Princess and joined their hands. Then turning to the Court, he said: "We give our daughter a fitting mate and the kingdom an heir-presumptive on whose courage and capacity it can rely."
The lords and ladies of the Court congratulated the betrothed couple, who were shortly after wedded in great state, to the satisfaction of all.
Some weeks after the marriage, as Prince Gofaster—for he had been raised to that rank—was passing into his cabinet, he heard the hollow laugh which betokened the presence of Shon the Phooka. Turning to face the sound, he saw before him a laughing boy a little over four feet in height, who wore what seemed to be the jerkin of strength and the shoes of endurance, shrunk to his own size.
"I have resumed my property," said Shon, "because you have no further use for them, with the exception of the cap of intellect, which I leave behind for your use. So long as you have that it will give you what additional strength and endurance you require. I now leave you. My term of banishment will end in a week. If my monarch knew what service I had rendered you I should be banished again; but, fortunately, there is no stray Phooka here to tattle, and I shall keep my own counsel. Rely upon the cap of intellect, and your future, though it may be checkered by losses and crosses, will be a glorious one."
"In what way can I show my gratitude to you?" said Gofaster. "How can I let you know what I feel?"
"Best," replied the goblin, "by forgetting me in course of time. As days and years go by all sense of obligation in human creatures grows less, and I doubt if you will be the sole exception to the rule." Then, with a hollow laugh, he disappeared.
The Princess Amber succeeded to the throne. How long and how wisely they ruled the kingdom, and how, when the King died, he was succeeded by his oldest son—this is all written in the chronicles of Huperborea. I should be glad to tell all about it, but I have not been able to obtain a copy of those chronicles. The Phooka has never shown himself to me, and I have not been able to get him to convey me midway beyond the barrier of ice and snow which separates Huperborea and its surrounding kingdoms from the rest of the world; and the reader must be content with what I have given him and ask for no more.