“Now, remember, you have undertaken it solemnly. This is what you must do. When you come in, you will find me sitting on the kitchen stove; you must then seize me by my two hind-paws, and dash me upon the hearthstone till there is nothing left of me in your hands, but the fur!”
“Oh dear! I can never do that!” exclaimed the prince, in great embarrassment.
“But you have sworn to do whatever I told you!” replied the Cat.
“Well, but I thought you were going to order me to do something rational, something noble and manly, requiring courage and strength—not a horrible act like this.”
“If it is the thing that has to be done, it does not matter what it is. Besides, it does require courage, great courage; and that is why I would not tell you first what it was, because others have failed when they knew what it was.”
“And you expect me to have less feeling and affection for you than they?”
“No; but I expect more sense and judgment of you. I expect you to understand and believe that if I say it has to be done, it is really for the best, and that you will trust to me that it is right. And I expect that you will respect your promise, which was made without limit or exception. But now, go; you have no time to lose, if you want to reach home with the hunting-whip in time for the trial.”
He rose to leave; and she followed him down the path, purring by his side. And after she had taken leave of him at the boundary-wall, he heard her mewing sad adieus as he went on for many a weary mile.
When the prince reached the council-hall, he found, as before, that his brothers were there first, and that every one seemed to have decided that they had won the day—in fact no one showed any curiosity to know what he would bring. As he had beaten them by his lustrous jewels before, they had fancied he would bring something of the same sort again; so, to conquer him on his own ground, they had sought out and found two handles of hunting-whips mounted with jewels as sparkling as those of his drinking-horn. When they saw him come in with the shabby old whip the Beneficent Cat had given him, they laughed outright in his face; and the king, in a fit of indignation, ordered him to leave the hall for venturing to insult him by bringing such a present. Some laughed him to scorn, and some abused him; but no one would listen to a word he had to say. At last the tumult was so great that it reached the queen’s ears; and when she had learnt what was the matter, she insisted that he should have a hearing allowed him. When silence had been proclaimed the Grave Prince said,—
“It is true, my whip is not so splendid as that of my brothers, but jewels are out of place on a hunting-whip, it seems to me; the handle is wanted to be smooth, so that the hand may take a firm grip of it, rather than to be covered with those points and unevennesses. The merit of my whip is not in the handle, it is in the lash, which has such excellent qualities, that you have but to crack it, and your horse will immediately take you over any obstruction there may be in your way—be it a house or a mountain, or what you will. If you will allow me, I will give you proof of its powers.”