CHAPTER IV
And what of the traveling-cloak? What sort of cloak was it, and what Agood did it do the Prince?
Stay, and I'll tell you all about it. Outside it was thecommonest-looking bundle imaginable--shabby and small; and the instantPrince Dolor touched it, it grew smaller still, dwindling down till hecould put it in his trousers pocket, like a handkerchief rolled up intoa ball. He did this at once, for fear his nurse should see it, and keptit there all day--all night, too. Till after his next morning's lessonshe had no opportunity of examining his treasure.
When he did, it seemed no treasure at all; but a mere piece ofcloth--circular in form, dark green in color--that is, if it had anycolor at all, being so worn and shabby, though not dirty. It had a splitcut to the center, forming a round hole for the neck--and that was allits shape; the shape, in fact, of those cloaks which in South Americaare called ponchos--very simple, but most graceful and convenient.
Prince Dolor had never seen anything like it. In spite of hisdisappointment, he examined it curiously; spread it out on the door,then arranged it on his shoulders. It felt very warm and comfortable;but it was so exceedingly shabby--the only shabby thing that the Princehad ever seen in his life.
"And what use will it be to me?" said he sadly. "I have no need ofoutdoor clothes, as I never go out. Why was this given me, I wonder? andwhat in the world am I to do with it? She must be a rather funny person,this dear godmother of mine."
Nevertheless, because she was his godmother, and had given him thecloak, he folded it carefully and put it away, poor and shabby as itwas, hiding it in a safe corner of his top cupboard, which his nursenever meddled with. He did not want her to find it, or to laugh at it orat his godmother--as he felt sure she would, if she knew all.
There it lay, and by and by he forgot all about it; nay, I am sorry tosay that, being but a child, and not seeing her again, he almost forgothis sweet old godmother, or thought of her only as he did of the angelsor fairies that he read of in his books, and of her visit as if it hadbeen a mere dream of the night.
There were times, certainly, when he recalled her: of early mornings,like that morning when she appeared beside him, and late evenings, whenthe gray twilight reminded him of the color of her hair and her prettysoft garments; above all, when, waking in the middle of the night, withthe stars peering in at his window, or the moonlight shining across hislittle bed, he would not have been surprised to see her standing besideit, looking at him with those beautiful tender eyes, which seemed tohave a pleasantness and comfort in them different from anything he hadever known.
But she never came, and gradually she slipped out of his memory--onlya boy's memory, after all; until something happened which made himremember her, and want her as he had never wanted anything before.
Prince Dolor fell ill. He caught--his nurse could not tell how--acomplaint common to the people of Nomansland, called the doldrums, asunpleasant as measles or any other of our complaints; and it made himrestless, cross, and disagreeable. Even when a little better, he was tooweak to enjoy anything, but lay all day long on his sofa, fidgeting hisnurse extremely--while, in her intense terror lest he might die, shefidgeted him still more. At last, seeing he really was getting well, sheleft him to himself--which he was most glad of, in spite of his dullnessand dreariness. There he lay, alone, quite alone.
Now and then an irritable fit came over him, in which he longed to getup and do something, or to go somewhere--would have liked to imitate hiswhite kitten--jump down from the tower and run away, taking the chanceof whatever might happen.
Only one thing, alas! was likely to happen; for the kitten, heremembered, had four active legs, while he----
"I wonder what my godmother meant when she looked at my legs and sighedso bitterly? I wonder why I can't walk straight and steady like my nurseonly I wouldn't like to have her great, noisy, clumping shoes. Still itwould be very nice to move about quickly--perhaps to fly, like a bird,like that string of birds I saw the other day skimming across the sky,one after the other."
These were the passage-birds--the only living creatures that evercrossed the lonely plain; and he had been much interested in them,wonder-ing whence they came and whither they were going.
"How nice it must be to be a bird! If legs are no good, why cannot onehave wings? People have wings when they die--perhaps; I wish I weredead, that I do. I am so tired, so tired; and nobody cares for me.Nobody ever did care for me, except perhaps my godmother. Godmother,dear, have you quite forsaken me?"
He stretched himself wearily, gathered himself up, and dropped his headupon his hands; as he did so, he felt somebody kiss him at the backof his neck, and, turning, found that he was resting, not on the sofapillows, but on a warm shoulder--that of the little old woman clothed ingray.
How glad he was to see her! How he looked into her kind eyes and felther hands, to see if she were all real and alive! then put both his armsround her neck, and kissed her as if he would never have done kissing.
"Stop, stop!" cried she, pretending to be smothered. "I see you havenot forgotten my teachings. Kissing is a good thing--in moderation. Onlyjust let me have breath to speak one word."
"A dozen!" he said.
"Well, then, tell me all that has happened to you since I saw you--or,rather, since you saw me, which is quite a different thing."
"Nothing has happened--nothing ever does happen to me," answered thePrince dolefully.
"And are you very dull, my boy?"
"So dull that I was just thinking whether I could not jump down to thebottom of the tower, like my white kitten."
"Don't do that, not being a white kitten."
"I wish I were--I wish I were anything but what I am."
"And you can't make yourself any different, nor can I do it either. Youmust be content to stay just what you are."
The little old woman said this--very firmly, but gently, too--with herarms round his neck and her lips on his forehead. It was the firsttime the boy had ever heard any one talk like this, and he looked up insurprise--but not in pain, for her sweet manner softened the hardness ofher words.
"Now, my Prince,--for you are a prince, and must behave as such,--let ussee what we can do; how much I can do for you, or show you how to do foryourself. Where is your traveling-cloak?"
Prince Dolor blushed extremely. "I--I put it away in the cupboard; Isuppose it is there still."
"You have never used it; you dislike it?"
He hesitated, no; wishing to be impolite. "Don't you think it's--just alittle old and shabby for a prince?"
The old woman laughed--long and loud, though very sweetly.
"Prince, indeed! Why, if all the princes in the world craved for it,they couldn't get it, unless I gave it them. Old and shabby! It's themost valuable thing imaginable! Very few ever have it; but I thoughtI would give it to you, because--because you are different from otherpeople."
"Am I?" said the Prince, and looked first with curiosity, then with asort of anxiety, into his godmother's face, which was sad and grave,with slow tears beginning to steal down.
She touched his poor little legs. "These are not like those of otherlittle boys."
"Indeed!--my nurse never told me that."
"Very likely not. But it is time you were told; and I tell you, becauseI love you."
"Tell me what, dear godmother?"
"That you will never be able to walk or run or jump or play--that yourlife will be quite different from most people's lives; but it may be avery happy life for all that. Do not be afraid."
"I am not afraid," said the boy; but he turned very pale, and his lipsbegan to quiver, though he did not actually cry--he was too old forthat, and, perhaps, too proud.
Though not wholly comprehending, he began dimly to guess what hisgodmother meant. He had never seen any real live boys, but he had seenpictures of them running and jumping; which he had admired and triedhard to imitate but always failed. Now he began to understand why hefailed, and that he always should fail--that, in fact,
he was not likeother little boys; and it was of no use his wishing to do as they did,and play as they played, even if he had had them to play with. His was aseparate life, in which he must find out new work and new pleasures forhimself.
The sense of THE INEVITABLE, as grown-up people call it--that we cannothave things as we want them to be, but as they are, and that we mustlearn to bear them and make the best of them--this lesson, whicheverybody has to learn soon or late--came, alas! sadly soon, to the poorboy. He fought against it for a while, and then, quite overcome, turnedand sobbed bitterly in his godmother's arms.
She comforted him--I do not know how, except that love always comforts;and then she whispered to him, in her sweet, strong, cheerful voice:"Never mind!"
"No, I don't think I do mind--that is, I WON'T mind," replied he,catching the courage of her tone and speaking like a man, though he wasstill such a mere boy.
"That is right, my Prince!--that is being like a prince. Now we knowexactly where we are; let us put our shoulders to the wheel and----"
"We are in Hopeless Tower" (this was its name, if it had a name), "andthere is no wheel to put our shoulders to," said the child sadly.
"You little matter-of-fact goose! Well for you that you have a godmothercalled----"
"What?" he eagerly asked.
"Stuff-and-nonsense."
"Stuff-and-nonsense! What a funny name!"
"Some people give it me, but they are not my most intimate friends.These call me--never mind what," added the old woman, with a softtwinkle in her eyes. "So as you know me, and know me well, you may giveme any name you please; it doesn't matter. But I am your godmother,child. I have few godchildren; those I have love me dearly, and find methe greatest blessing in all the world."
"I can well believe it," cried the little lame Prince, and forgothis troubles in looking at her--as her figure dilated, her eyes grewlustrous as stars, her very raiment brightened, and the whole roomseemed filled with her beautiful and beneficent presence like light.
He could have looked at her forever--half in love, half in awe; but shesuddenly dwindled down into the little old woman all in gray, and, witha malicious twinkle in her eyes, asked for the traveling-cloak.
"Bring it out of the rubbish cupboard, and shake the dust off it,quick!" said she to Prince Dolor, who hung his head, rather ashamed."Spread it out on the floor, and wait till the split closes andthe edges turn up like a rim all round. Then go and open theskylight,--mind, I say OPEN THE SKYLIGHT,--set yourself down in themiddle of it, like a frog on a water-lily leaf; say 'Abracadabra, dumdum dum,' and--see what will happen!"
The Prince burst into a fit of laughing. It all seemed so exceedinglysilly; he wondered that a wise old woman like his godmother should talksuch nonsense.
"Stuff-and-nonsense, you mean," said she, answering, to his great alarm,his unspoken thoughts. "Did I not tell you some people called me by thatname? Never mind; it doesn't harm me."
And she laughed--her merry laugh--as child-like as if she were thePrince's age instead of her own, whatever that might be. She certainlywas a most extraordinary old woman.
"Believe me or not, it doesn't matter," said she. "Here is the cloak:when you want to go traveling on it, say 'Abracadabra, dum, dum, dum';when you want to come back again, say 'Abracadabra, tum tum ti.' That'sall; good-by."
A puff of most pleasant air passing by him, and making him feel for themoment quite strong and well, was all the Prince was conscious of. Hismost extraordinary godmother was gone.
"Really now, how rosy your Royal Highness' cheeks have grown! You seemto have got well already," said the nurse, entering the room.
"I think I have," replied the Prince very gently--he felt gently andkindly even to his grim nurse. "And now let me have my dinner, and goyou to your sewing as usual."
The instant she was gone, however, taking with her the plates anddishes, which for the first time since his illness he had satisfactorilycleared, Prince Dolor sprang down from his sofa, and with one or twoof his frog-like jumps reached the cupboard where he kept his toys, andlooked everywhere for his traveling-cloak.
Alas! it was not there.
While he was ill of the doldrums, his nurse, thinking it a goodopportunity for putting things to rights, had made a grand clearance ofall his "rubbish"--as she considered it: his beloved headless horses,broken carts, sheep without feet, and birds without wings--all thetreasures of his baby days, which he could not bear to part with. Thoughhe seldom played with them now, he liked just to feel they were there.
They were all gone and with them the traveling-cloak. He sat down on thefloor, looking at the empty shelves, so beautifully clean and tidy, thenburst out sobbing as if his heart would break.
But quietly--always quietly. He never let his nurse hear him cry. Sheonly laughed at him, as he felt she would laugh now.
"And it is all my own fault!" he cried. "I ought to have taken bettercare of my godmother's gift. Oh, godmother, forgive me! I'll never be socareless again. I don't know what the cloak is exactly, but I am sureit is something precious. Help me to find it again. Oh, don't let it bestolen from me--don't, please!"
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed a silvery voice. "Why, that traveling-cloak isthe one thing in the world which nobody can steal. It is of no use toanybody except the owner. Open your eyes, my Prince, and see what youshall see."
His dear old godmother, he thought, and turned eagerly round. But no;he only beheld, lying in a corner of the room, all dust and cobwebs, hisprecious traveling-cloak.
Prince Dolor darted toward it, tumbling several times on the way, ashe often did tumble, poor boy! and pick himself up again, nevercomplaining. Snatching it to his breast, he hugged and kissed it,cobwebs and all, as if it had been something alive. Then he beganunrolling it, wondering each minute what would happen. What did happenwas so curious that I must leave it for another chapter.