A cheer went up again, and my father took me aside and whispered in my ear.
“You rascal,” said he, “I never thought you had it in you to— Really! You don’t say so! You astonish me! A Highwayman’s daughter! Well, well, think of that! Very original of you, my son; I’m sure I never would have thought of such a thing at your age. She’s got a fine eye, my boy; there’s a look in it I’ve seen in your mother’s eye; a will of her own, you can’t fool me about that look,—yes, yes, very beautiful,—but a will of her own, remember I told you. A Highwayman’s daughter! That’s good. Highly original. Well, well, it might have been the Hangman’s daughter—but remember what I told you about that look in the eye, I’ve seen it before,—your mother used to—but she’s certainly beautiful all the same—when does the wedding come off?”
The Magic Doublet Is Presented at the Wedding
We were married on the morning of the third day. Such feasting, such dancing, such merriment,—and gifts innumerable; but the best gift of all was a doublet, made with his left hand by the One-Armed Sorcerer from the skin of the witch’s wasp’s nest, fastened by the witch’s ten buttons sewed on with the genie’s hair; a doublet to preserve the wearer from all harm. And this, as the wedding dinner was nearing its end, the One-Armed Sorcerer, rising in his place, presented to me with a pretty speech, for which I thanked him.
“Sir,” said my father, addressing the One-Armed Sorcerer, “I invite you to remain with me at my court, to instruct my son in the mystery of handling a wife. Nobody but a sorcerer should undertake such a job. Will you try it?”
“Alas, your majesty,” said the One-Armed Sorcerer, “it is far beyond my powers. And besides, I must return to my island home, on pressing business.”
“Very well, then,” said my father. He took my bride’s hand in his and patted it, while she looked down in confusion. “My dear,” said he to her, “you must persuade your sisters to remain here with us. And as for your father, I design to appoint him Lord Treasurer of my kingdom. I think a Highwayman ought to be a good man to take charge of my money. Will you persuade him to accept that office?”
“Oh!” cried the nine sisters, without giving my bride a chance to speak. “That would be jolly! Oh, wouldn’t it be jolly? It will be just too perfectly jolly for anything, won’t it? But really, though, won’t it be jolly? Just too simply, perfectly, adorably jolly!”
“Your majesty,” said my father-in-law the Highwayman, rising up on his elderly legs,—
“Although I am not confident that I’m entirely competent, I thank