CHAPTER XX.
ONE evening, as Prince Brekekex and Daffodil, with the Princess Guachapeara in her capacity of Dressmaker Plenipotentiary designate, the Regius Professor of Everything, the Head Royal Physician, the high functionaries of the Plenipotentiary Department, and the proper suite of attendants, were advancing to the Royal Wedding‐Lily bed, Brekekex gave a horrible cry and threw himself on the ground. At this dire spectacle every one, struck with horror, threw up his or her hands in a gesture of despair, and gazed heart‐broken—every one, that is, except Daffodil, who was busy trying to find out what was the matter.
“I am murdered,” groaned Brekekex.
“Where? Oh where?” cried Daffodil, vainly looking for signs of a wound. “Oh, Head Royal Physician, do come and do something.”
Thus summoned, the Head Royal Physician roused himself from his grief and advanced with slow and thoughtful steps, pondering over what could be the matter with the unfortunate Prince.
“It is his foot,” said Daffodil. “Oh look what has run into it!” and she drew out the thing of page: 290 which she spoke. The Head Royal Physician took it from her, as she held it out, and examined it intently. Meanwhile Brekekex lay not daring to move lest he should have been seriously hurt.
“I am afraid he must be in pain,” said Daffodil. “Shall I bathe his foot and put wet moss round it? I think it would take away a bad prick.”
“Do nothing,” said the Head Royal Physician imperatively. “Pre‐eminent Madam, the case is too serious for temporising measures. My skill is unparalleled, you will say; shall I tell you the simple secret of that unparalleled skill? It lies in this—I never act in ignorance. Ignorance is to be acquainted with the effect but not with the cause: I deal with the cause, I wrest its secret from it; I know. You have the history of my scientific supremacy.”
“Would you like to look at his foot?” said Daffodil.
“I may find it desirable to do so eventually,” said the Head Royal Physician, in a gravely dignified manner which he intended to convey to her a little rebuke. It seemed to him that she was trying to hurry him, and, although her present exalted position made it impossible to resent anything she was pleased to do or say, he thought it would have been more appropriate if she had kept her mind in a more deferential attitude towards science as represented by him—more especially as even her approaching connection with Royalty could not wholly do away with the distinction between a merely human brain and that of any frog, let alone the most scientifically medical of frogs.
After he had stared fixedly for some time, the page: 291 Princess Guachapeara interrupted him. “We have been forgetting to send to Her Majesty,” she said. “Someone must go to her at once. How can it be broken to her?”
“Let me save him first, Your Royal Highness. The shock to her will be so much less under those circumstances,” was the anxious reply; for the Head Royal Physician was not at ease when having to exercise his art under Her Majesty’s peremptory supervision. He made haste.
“The cause,” said he, “the cause. It is here in my hand. I hold it. And it is—it is—it—is—it—is—it—Drat the thing, what in the world is it?”
The amazing and sudden explosion with which the Head Royal Physician concluded his opinion startled his hearers out of what little possession of their faculties the awful accident to the Prince had left them. Brekekex himself, still lying rigid on the ground, lest moving should hurt him anywhere, gave an appalling shriek as he heard his fate in the medical verdict: Guachapeara wrung her hands, and screamed in echo to her brother. Sobs were sobbing, and groans were groaning, and doleful voices were lamenting the early end of the beautiful and brilliant Poet Prince, the darling of Croäxaxica, the hope of Grachidichika.
“An irreparable loss!” sighed the Regius Professor of Everything.
“Irreparable, indeed,” they sighed in chorus.
“I don’t believe there is any harm done you at all,” said Daffodil, encouragingly, to Brekekex.
“Don’t you really?” he replied, brightening up. page: 292 But then his hopeful moment passed. “Oh!” he moaned. “How can you tell? You don’t know what the cause is.”
“Regius Professor of Everything,” said Daffodil, “don’t you think, if you were to look at the thing, you might perhaps find it is something you know about somehow.”
The Professor dried his tears. “Assuredly I might,” said he with much satisfaction. “I will not say that nothing is unknown to me, but it would be strange if there really were anything that had escaped my researches; I will proceed to identify this strange product of nature or art which has baffled even the stupendous learning of our widely gifted Head Royal Physician.”
But the Head Royal Physician did not put the article in question into the hand the Professor held out for it. “There are matters of science and research,” he said, “in which I have to admit that I am but second to our enormous minded and preternaturally learned Regius Professor of Everything. But in a medical question he himself must admit that not even his astounding ability can be accepted as second to mine.”
“That’s just what I mean,” said Daffodil: “you know the medical things better than any one in Croäxaxica: this whatever‐it‐is doesn’t seem a very medical thing, as it has only done harm, and besides your not knowing it looks as if it couldn’t be; so most likely it’s an unmedical thing, and the Regius Professor should give his opinion.”
“From that perspicacious point of view, I wholly agree with Your Pre‐eminence,” said the Head Royal page: 293 Physician. “I trust my all but omniscient comrade in learning will pardon my having intruded on his province. He will no doubt be able to identify this object, belonging as it does to the field of his special researches.”
The Regius Professor of Everything turned the object over and over, amid breathless silence. He had to try very hard not to look puzzled. At last he thought he must needs say something or he should be taken to know no more about the matter than the Head Royal Physician. “It is a relic from the pre‐historic period. The purpose for which it was designed was—was—Ah! the purpose for which it was designed was that of a secret weapon (which is why it is, as a weapon, of such an epitomised size) and also for various purposes of utility.”
“Oh! Let me have it a moment,” said Daffodil suddenly.
The Professor handed her the subject of his unfinished lecture. With a rough leaf she wiped the rust from its stem; she could see its head quite bright still in the tiny tuft of spongy moss in which it had got imbedded. “It is a pin,” she said.
In spite of the serious nature of the occasion, her hearers, even Brekekex himself, could not but burst into a shout of laughter at this statement. The comparison between the stout inch‐long spoke she held so fearlessly and the minute pearly threads they knew as pins was too absurd. She had to explain that the use of this implement for securing their clothes really was a practice of human beings. As to how this particular specimen of human work‐ page: 294 manship got to Croäxaxica, she remembered having dropped the pin with which she had fastened to her dress the mysterious flower that had brought her to the country: evidently a runlet had drifted it from the dressing‐room near at hand, where it had entered the floor, to the spot where it had struck into Prince Brekekex’s foot.
“Strange!” said the Regius Professor of Everything, thoughtfully. “Strange indeed is it to find in familiar use among the scarcely known race of human beings an implement unmistakably the invention of the Croäxaxicans of the pre‐historic time. There is the germ of a treatise in this instance of the still surviving influence above water of our ancient Croäxaxican civilisation.”
“Now I have thoroughly informed myself on the cause of His Royal Highness’s accident,” said the Head Royal Physician, “his recovery is well‐nigh assured.”
“Her present Pre‐eminence, the future Queen of Grachidichika, has just been assuring me that human pins, in spite of their look, are not deadly,” said Brekekex, who was now sitting up and looking cheerful.
“Not if the case is treated with promptitude, and by some exceptionally highly qualified practitioner,” replied the Head Royal Physician. “I am sure Your Highness honours me by feeling safe in my hands.”
“Lie down, lie down, Your Royal Highness,” cried the alarmed physician. “I wouldn’t undertake to say what may happen if you recover so suddenly. The reaction after such a crisis may—may do anything. Pray be more gradual.”
“And I do feel a headache,” said Brekekex, lying down flat again.
After a careful examination, the Head Royal Physician pronounced that it would be safe to remove the patient to bed in his own apartment, and he was carried away on a couch.
“He shall recover, trust me, Royal Ladies,” said the Head Royal Physician, consolingly, to the betrothed bride and the sister, as he went off with his charge.
And now Daffodil knew that a crisis in her fortunes had come. Brekekex was taken away as an invalid; she herself might not touch the wedding lilies.
“I must be your proxy for the inspection of the lilies, this time, of course, Dressmaker Plenipotentiary,” said the Princess Guachapeara.
“I am sorry I cannot consent to that,” replied Daffodil.
“But you can’t help it,” exclaimed the amazed Guachapeara. “There is no other suitable person.”
“Prince Brekekex refused to consent to your doing it before, on the ground that you were not the most suitable person,” said Daffodil firmly.
“He made a great mistake,” returned Guachapeara. “And, at all events, I must be the proper person to do it, now he can’t.”
page: 296“As you will,” said Daffodil. “Only, I must make a protest.” And in a loud slow voice she went on “I ask everybody present to take note that I protest against the Princess Guachapeara’s representing me this evening for the inspection of the lilies, and that, if any of the lilies she has inspected are brought me to‐morrow, I will say they are illegal after my protest and will refuse to put one of them on.”
“Well, now you have protested, I shall proceed to perform the ceremony which belongs to me,” said Guachapeara. “I am Dressmaker Plenipotentiary designate, and by that right I shall represent the Dressmaker Plenipotentiary, in Prince Brekekex’s absence, and inspect the lilies.”
Daffodil said no more. Her hope, in fact, was that Guachapeara would perform the inspection and so enable her to reject her wedding‐dress on the morrow on grounds that would not be High Treasonous.
But Guachapeara hesitated, as she stood by the lilies with her hand already stretched out to reach one. Supposing the Queen were to disapprove of her acting without special instructions, and were to punish her by not letting her become Dressmaker Plenipotentiary on Daffodil’s vacating the office at her marriage? On the other hand it was so evident to her that she was the proper person; and did not her dignity require her to go on? She looked round for some responsible adviser to urge her to do so. “You think it is my duty to do it,” she said to the Regius Professor of Everything.
But the Professor, having no suspicion of Daffodil’s secret wishes, did not know how to answer as the page: 297 one great lady required without displeasing the other. He was seized with a fit of coughing which compelled him to withdraw into the background till it was over, and then he advanced promptly and said “Your Royal Highness having directed me to make a suggestion, I venture to suggest that it would add to the importance of whatever steps may be taken, or not taken, at this critical juncture by Your Royal Highness and by Her Pre‐eminence in conjunction with Your Royal Highness, if a message from Her Majesty enhanced the occasion.”
A murmur of approval followed the Professor’s words, and Guachapeara herself was impressed with their wisdom. “Your suggestion is most judicious,” she said. “It repeats my own idea. I should be unwilling to take any decisive step before communicating with my Majestic Mother,” and she at once despatched the Professor as her messenger.
The suspense in which all awaited the Queen’s reply was ended in a surprisingly short time. Her Majesty herself bounded in among them “Everybody who holds any authority or office holds it as My deputy—at least I mean the King’s, but it’s all the same—The Dressmaker Plenipotentiary’s a deputy of Me, so of course I can make a deputy of her just as I please. I nominate the Dressmaker Plenipotentiary designate to be the Dressmaker Plenipotentiary’s proxy. Get on, Guachapeara, it’s almost past dinner‐time.”
Having thus delivered herself, all in one breath, Her Majesty sat down to recover, as well she might need to do after the haste she had made. And Guachapeara proceeded without delay with her im‐ page: 298 portant function. Daffodil was silent: to renew her protest was useless, for now, if the wedding‐dress were brought her to‐morrow, to make objection to it as illegally inspected would be just as much High Treason as flatly refusing to be married—and would be untruthful besides, since she could not but feel that, after the Queen’s express nomination, Guachapeara’s proxyhood would be unimpeachable before the law.
“Not that it makes any difference whether the lilies are inspected or not,” said the Queen, as Guachapeara withdrew her hand from the last of the opening buds. “If they are only going to wither off, they can do that just as well without inspection.”
“But the right person should do things, when they are so important,” said Guachapeara.
“Of course: and that is why I rushed here directly I heard of the difficulty. I should have thought myself of the question that would arise, but that I was so agitated about Brekekex. Where is Daffodil? I haven’t spoken to her.”
Daffodil advanced, with some secret trepidation.
“You were very judicious, dear, to be so careful that no suspicion of illegality should incapacitate your wedding‐dress, if it happened to blow for to‐morrow,” said Her Majesty. “I am pleased to find you so acute and so prudent. Why, you have become quite a Croäxaxican already. And I am pleased with you too, Guachapeara. It was natural that one of your soaring ambition and enterprise should be eager to fulfil the duty fallen to you: your eagerness proves your competence. The wisdom with which you page: 299 checked your zeal on the first suggestion that my orders had not been asked shows that you are exceptional among deep and far‐sighted thinkers—that you are indeed my daughter. Now come to dinner.”
She bounded to the canal and made the shortest cut to the Royal apartments, and Guachapeara followed her. But the Queen promptly perceived the mistake. “Go back at once,” she said. “I am not in State; I am, as the Queen, not here at all; so I can go away how I please and make haste. But you are here officially, on a State ceremony. I am shocked that you should so forget your dignity as to come bounding and swimming by yourself in this way.”
So Guachapeara returned, crestfallen for a moment at the scolding, but not loth to bear her part as so principal a personage in the ceremonial to the last moment of it. With stately mien, she took her place in the procession and, after having duly escorted Daffodil to her quarters, went in a sort of triumph to her own, where, as she dismissed the long retinue at the portal, they raised a shout of “Glory to the future Dressmaker Plenipotentiary! May she always adorn her official performances as she has to‐day!”
“Thanks, thanks, my friends and subalterns: I will,” responded the young Princess, much moved.
Fresh plaudits rang forth at this. “She will, she will,” they all said to each other, “I know she will.”
“I will,” said Guachapeara again. “My faithful friends and subalterns, believe this that, throughout my public career, I will ever be worthy of my private self.”
page: 300With a gracious consideration for their feelings, she allowed the cheers which replied to this declaration to continue some minutes before she waved her hand in the customary signal of dismissal of their attendance on her. And even then she said “I am forced to go, because I am late for dinner, but I don’t want to cut short your enjoyment of your enthusiasm: you may stay and cheer a bit longer, if you like.”
I need not say that the retinue availed themselves of the privilege thus accorded, and remained hurrahing till they were too hoarse and exhausted to raise a sound more.
Meanwhile Daffodil was preparing her courage, as best she could, for what might come on the morrow. This time the great white wedding lilies, unharmed, would open and be ready for the bride. The only chance of delay she could see was that Brekekex might become really ill; and she thought that improbable and tried not to wish it. Poor Brekekex had behaved so kindly and faithfully to her that she would not even think of sickness and suffering for him as desirable for her own safety.
“If anything happens to‐morrow morning, awake me at once, however early,” she gave orders, as she withdrew betimes to her sleeping‐room, to be alone.
“We will bear your commands in mind, Your Pre‐eminence,” was the deferential reply. “But Your Pre‐eminence need not fear that anything will happen to His Royal Highness, your betrothed husband. Your Pre‐eminence is not being deceived: the accounts given to every one are the same as the report sent in answer to your own inquiry, and the page: 301 Head Royal Physician declares without reserve that the condition of His Royal Highness is most encouraging.”
“I am sure of that,” said Daffodil. “I am sure we need not be in the least anxious about the Prince’s health.”
But, after she had gone into her room, they all pitied her smilingly for being so superfluously anxious about her betrothed bridegroom. It showed how fond she was of him, they said, and she would make a devoted wife.
It could not occur to any one that the something that might happen which was weighing on Daffodil’s mind was the event for which all Croäxaxica was hoping in desperation, the blooming of the lilies which would usher in her marriage day.
