CHAPTER III
A TERRIBLE NIGHT
My reception at Why had been such a very peculiar one that I had fully made up my mind to return home at once, but his Majesty the Wallypug begged me so earnestly to stay with him, at any rate for a few days, that I determined, out of friendship to him, to put up as best I could with that extraordinary person the Sister-in-Law, and the rest of the creatures, and remain, in order to help him if possible to establish his position at Why on a firmer basis.
So I took possession of a suite of rooms in the west wing of the palace, near his Majesty’s private apartments, and we spent a very pleasant evening together in my sitting-room, playing draughts till bedtime, when his Majesty left me to myself, promising that he would show me around the palace grounds the first thing in the morning.
After he had gone, there being a bright wood fire burning in my bedroom, I drew a high-backed easy-chair up to the old-fashioned fireplace, and made myself comfortable for a little while before retiring for the night.
My bedroom was a large, old-fashioned apartment, with a low ceiling and curiously carved oak wainscoting, and I watched the firelight flickering, and casting all sorts of odd shadows in the dark corners, till I must have fallen asleep, for I remember awaking with a start, at hearing a crash in the corridor outside my bedroom door. A muttered exclamation, and a Pelican, carrying a bedroom candlestick marched in, and carefully fastened the door behind him.
“Great clumsy things – I can’t think who can have left them there,” he grumbled, sitting down and rubbing one foot against the other, as though in pain. And I suddenly came to the conclusion that he must have stumbled over my boots, which I had stood just outside the door, in order that they might be cleaned for the morning.
The Pelican had not noticed me in my high-backed chair, and, being rather curious to see what he was up to, I kept perfectly still.
Going over to a clothes press, which stood in one corner of the room, the bird drew forth a long white night-gown and a nightcap; these he proceeded solemnly to array himself in, and then, getting up on a chair, he turned back the bedclothes with his enormous beak, and was just about to hop into bed, when I thought that it was time for me to interfere.
“Here! I say, what are you up to?” I called out in a stern voice.
“Oh – h-h! Ah – h-h! There’s a man in my room!” screamed the Pelican, evidently greatly alarmed. “Murder! Fire! Police! Thieves!”
“Hold your tongue!” I commanded. “What do you mean by making all that noise at this time of night, and what are you doing in my room?”
“Your room, indeed!” gasped the bird; “my room you mean, you featherless biped, you!”
“Look here!” I remarked, going up to the Pelican, and shaking him till his beak rattled again. “Don’t you talk to me like that, my good bird, for I won’t put up with it.” You see I was getting tired of being treated so contemptuously by all of these creatures, and was determined to put a stop to it, somehow.
“But it
is
my room. Let me go, I say!” screamed the bird, struggling to get free, and dabbing at me viciously with his great beak.
“It is not your room,” I maintained; “and what is more, you are not going to stay here,” and I pushed the creature towards the door.
“We’ll soon see all about that,” shouted the Pelican, wrenching himself from my grasp, and rushing at me with his beak wide open, and his wings outstretched.
He was an enormous bird, and I had a great struggle with him. We went banging about the room, knocking over the furniture and making a terrible racket. At last, however, I managed to get him near the door, and giving a terrific shove I pushed him outside, and, pulling the door to, quickly turned the key.
I could hear Mr. Pelican slipping and stumbling about on the highly polished floor of the corridor outside, and muttering indignantly. Presently he came to the door, and banging with his beak, he cried, “Look here! this is beyond a joke – let me in, I say – where do you suppose I am going to sleep?”
“Anywhere you like except here,” I replied, feeling that I had got the best of it. “Go and perch or roost, or whatever you call it, on the banisters, or sleep on the mat if you like – I don’t care what you do!”
“Impertinent wretch!” yelled the bird. “You only wait till the morning. I’ll pay you out;” and I could hear him muttering and mumbling in an angry way as he waddled down the corridor to seek some other resting-place. “What ridiculous nonsense it is,” I thought, as I tumbled into bed shortly after this little episode; “these creatures giving themselves such airs. No wonder the Wallypug is such a meek little person if he has been subjected to this sort of treatment all his life.” And pondering over the best method of altering the extraordinary state of affairs, I dropped off to sleep.
I do not know how long it may have been after this, but a terrific din, this time in the courtyard below my window, caused me once more to jump from my bed in alarm. I could hear a most unearthly yelling going on, a babel of voices, and occasionally a resounding crash as though something hollow had been violently struck.
Pushing open the latticed windows I saw in the moonlight a little man dressed in a complete suit of armor with an enormous shield, like a dishcover, arranged over his head, playing the guitar, and endeavoring to sing to its accompaniment. He was continually interrupted, however, by a shower of missiles thrown from all of the windows overlooking the courtyard, out of which angry heads of animals and other occupants of the palace were thrust; he was surrounded by a miscellaneous collection of articles which had evidently been thrown at him, and some of them, had it not been for his suit of armor and the erection over his head, would have caused him considerable injury.
He did not seem to mind them in the least, though, and continued singing amid a perfect storm of boots, brushes, and bottles, as though he was quite accustomed to such treatment: and it was only when an irate figure, which somehow reminded me of his Majesty’s Sister-in-Law, clad in white garments and flourishing a pair of tongs, appeared in the courtyard, that he took to his heels and fled, pursued by the white-robed apparition, till both disappeared beneath an archway at the farther end of the courtyard. Most of the windows were thereupon closed, and the disturbed occupants of the palace returned to their rest. I was just about to close my lattice too, when I caught sight of a familiar figure at the adjoining window. It was my old friend A. Fish, Esq.
“Oh! id’s you iz id,” he cried. “You
have
cub thed, I heard that you were egspegded.”
“Yes, here I am,” I replied. “How are you? How is your cold?”
“Oh, id’s quide cured, thags; dote you dotice how butch better I speak?”
“I’m very glad to hear it, I’m sure,” I replied, waiving the question and trying to keep solemn. “What’s all this row about?”
“Oh! thad’s the troubadour, up to his old gabes agaid; he’s ad awful dusadce. I’ll tell you aboud hib in the bordig – good dight.” And A. Fish, Esq., disappeared from view.
CHAPTER IV
LATE FOR BREAKFAST
I awoke very early in the morning, just as it was daylight, and being unable to get to sleep again amid my strange surroundings, I arose and crept down-stairs as noiselessly as possible, intending to go for a long walk before breakfast.
At the bottom of the stairs I came upon a strange-looking white object, which, upon closer inspection, turned out to be the Pelican, asleep on the floor.
He was not sleeping as any respectable bird would have done, with his head tucked under his wing; but was lying stretched out on a rug in the hall, with his head resting on a cushion. His enormous beak was wide open, and he was snoring violently, and muttering uneasily in his sleep.
I did not disturb him for fear lest he should make a noise; but hurrying past him I made my way to the hall door, which after a little difficulty I succeeded in unfastening. An ancient-looking turtle with a white apron was busily cleaning the steps, and started violently as I made my appearance at the door.
“Bless my shell and fins!” he muttered; “what’s the creature wandering about this time of the morning for; they’ll be getting up in the middle of the night next. Just mind where you’re treading, please!” he called out. “The steps have been cleaned, and I don’t want to have to do them all over again.”
I managed to get down without doing much damage, and then remarked pleasantly:
“Good morning; have you – ”
“No, I haven’t,” interrupted the Turtle snappishly; “and what’s more, I don’t want to.”
“What do you mean?” I inquired, in surprise.
“Soap!” was the reply.
“I don’t understand you,” I exclaimed.
“You’re an advertisement for somebody’s soap, aren’t you?” asked the Turtle.
“Certainly not,” I replied, indignantly.
“Your first remark sounded very much like it,” said the Turtle suspiciously. “‘Good morning, have you used – ’”
“I wasn’t going to say that at all,” I interrupted. “I was merely going to ask if you could oblige me with a light.”
“Oh, that’s another thing entirely,” said the Turtle, handing me some matches from his waistcoat pocket, and accepting a cigarette in return. “But really we have got so sick of those advertisement catchwords since the Doctor-in-Law returned from London with agencies for all sorts of things, that we hate the very sound of them. We are continually being told to ‘Call a spade a spade,’ which will be ‘grateful and comforting’ to ‘an ox in a teacup’ who is ‘worth a guinea a box,’ and who ‘won’t be happy till he gets it.’”
“It must be very trying,” I murmured sympathetically.
“Oh, it is,” remarked the Turtle. “Well,” he continued in a business-like tone, “I’m sorry you can’t stop – good morning.”
“I didn’t say anything about going,” I ejaculated.
“Oh, didn’t you? Well, I did then,” said the Turtle emphatically. “Move on, please!”
“You’re very rude,” I remarked.
“Think so?” said the Turtle pleasantly. “That’s all right then – good-by,” and he flopped down on his knees and resumed his scrubbing.
There was nothing for me to do but to walk on, and seeing a quaint-looking old rose garden in the distance, I decided to go over and explore.
I was walking slowly along the path leading to it, when I heard a curious clattering noise behind me, and turning around I beheld the Troubadour, still in his armor, dragging a large standard rosebush along the ground.
“As if it were not enough,” he grumbled, “to be maltreated as I am every night, without having all this trouble every morning. I declare it is enough to make you throw stones at your grandfather.”
“What’s the matter?” I ventured to ask of the little man.
“Matter?” was the reply. “Why, these wretched rosebushes, they
will
get out their beds at night, and wander about. I happened to leave the gate open last night, and this one got out, and goodness knows where he would have been by this time if I hadn’t caught him meandering about near the Palace.”
“Why! I’ve never heard of such a thing as a rosebush walking about,” I exclaimed in surprise.
“Never heard of a – . Absurd!” declared the Troubadour, incredulously. “Of course they do. That’s what you have hedges and fences around the gardens for, isn’t it? Why, you can’t have been in a garden at night-time, or you wouldn’t talk such nonsense. All the plants are allowed to leave their beds at midnight. They are expected to be back again by daylight, though, and not go wandering about goodness knows where like this beauty,” and he shook the rosebush violently.
“In you go,” he continued, digging a hole with the point of his mailed foot, and sticking the rosebush into it.
“Hullo!” he exclaimed, going up to another one, at the foot of which were some broken twigs and crumpled leaves. “You’ve been fighting, have you? I say, it’s really too bad!”
“But what does it matter to you?” I inquired. “It’s very sad, no doubt, but I don’t see why you should upset yourself so greatly about it.”
“Well, you see,” was the reply, “I’m the head gardener here as well as Troubadour, and so am responsible for all these things. I do troubing as an extra,” he explained. “Three shillings a week and my armor. Little enough, isn’t it, considering the risk?”
“Well, the office certainly does not seem overpopular, judging from last night,” I laughed. “Who were you serenading?”
“Oh, any one,” was the reply. “I give it to them in turns. If any one offends me in the daytime I pay them out at night, see?
“I serenaded the Sister-in-Law mostly, but I shall give that up. She doesn’t play fair. I don’t mind people shying things at me in the least, for you see I’m pretty well protected; but when it comes to chivying me round the garden with a pair of tongs, it’s more than I bargained for. Look out! Here comes the Wallypug,” he continued.
Sure enough his Majesty was walking down the path, attended by A. Fish, Esq., who was wearing a cap and gown and carrying a huge book.
“Ah! good morning – good morning,” cried his Majesty, hurrying towards me. “I’d no idea you were out and about so early. I’m just having my usual morning lesson.”
“Yes,” said A. Fish, Esq., smiling, and offering me a fin. “Ever sidse I god rid of by cold I’ve been teaching the Wallypug elocutiod. We have ad ‘our every bordig before breakfast, ad he’s geddig on spledidly.”
“I’m sure his Majesty is to be congratulated on having so admirable an instructor,” I remarked, politely, if not very truthfully.
“Thags,” said A. Fish, Esq., looking very pleased. “I say, Wallypug, recide that liddle thig frob Richard III., jusd to show hib how well you cad do id, will you? You doe thad thig begiddidg ’Ad ’orse, ad ’orse, by kigdob for ad ’orse.’”
“Yes, go on, Wallypug!” chimed in the Troubadour, indulgently.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said his Majesty, simpering nervously. “I’m afraid I should break down.”
“Doe you wondt, doe you wondt,” said A. Fish, Esq. “Cub alog, try id.”
So his Majesty stood up, with his hands folded in front of him, and was just about to begin, when a bell in a cupola on the top of the palace began to ring violently.
“Good gracious, the breakfast bell! We shall be late,” cried the Wallypug, anxiously grasping my hand and beginning to run towards the palace.
A. Fish, Esq., also shuffled along behind us as quickly as possible, taking three or four wriggling steps, and then giving a funny little hop with his tail, till, puffing and out of breath, we arrived at the palace just as the bell stopped ringing.
His Majesty hastily rearranged his disordered crown, and led the way into the dining hall.
A turtle carrying a large dish just inside the door whispered warningly to the Wallypug as we entered, “Look out! You’re going to catch it,” and hurried away.
A good many creatures were seated at the table which ran down the center of the room, and at the head of which his Majesty’s Sister-in-Law presided, with a steaming urn before her. The Doctor-in-Law occupied a seat near by, and I heard him remark:
“They are two minutes late, madame. I hope you are not going to overlook it,” to which the lady replied, grimly, “You leave that to me.”
“Sit there,” she remarked coldly, motioning me to a vacant seat, and the Wallypug and A. Fish, Esq., subsided into the two other unoccupied chairs on the other side of the table.
CHAPTER V
THE TRIAL
For a moment nobody spoke. The Wallypug sat back in a huddled heap in his chair, looking up into Madame’s face with a scared expression. A. Fish unconcernedly began to eat some steaming porridge from a plate in front of him – and I sat still and waited events.
A band of musicians in the gallery at the end of the hall were playing somewhat discordantly, till Madame turned around and called out in an angry voice:
“Just stop that noise, will you? I can’t hear myself speak.”
The musicians immediately left off playing with the exception of an old hippopotamus, playing a brass instrument, who being deaf, and very near-sighted, had neither heard what had been said nor observed that the others had stopped. With his eyes fixed on the music stand in front of him, he kept up a long discordant tootling on his own account, gravely beating time with his head and one foot.
His Majesty’s Sister-in-Law turned around furiously once or twice, and then seeing that the creature did not leave off, she threw a teacup at his head, and followed it up with the sugar basin.
The latter hit him, and hastily dropping his instrument, he looked over the top of his spectacles in surprise.
Perceiving that the others had left off playing, he apparently realized what had happened, and meekly murmuring, “I beg your pardon,” he leaned forward with one foot up to his ear, to hear what was going on.
“I’m waiting to know what you have to say for yourselves,” resumed Madame, addressing the Wallypug and myself.
“The traid was late, add there was a fog od the lide,” explained A. Fish, Esq., mendaciously, with his mouth full of hot porridge.
“A likely story!” said the good lady sarcastically. “A very convenient excuse, I must say; but that train’s been late too many times recently to suit me. I don’t believe a word of what you are saying.”
“If I might venture a suggestion,” said the Doctor-in-Law, sweetly, “I would advise that they should all be mulcted in heavy fines, and I will willingly undertake the collection of the money for a trifling consideration.”
“It’s too serious a matter for a fine,” said the Madame severely. “What do you mean by it?” she demanded, glaring at me furiously.
“Well, I’m sure we are all very sorry,” I remarked, “but I really do not see that being two minutes late for breakfast is such a dreadful affair after all.”
“Oh! you don’t, don’t you?” said the Sister-in-Law, working herself up into a terrible state of excitement; “Well, I do, then. Do you suppose that you are going to do just as you please here? Do you think that I am going to allow myself to be brow-beaten and imposed upon by a mere man – ”
“Who hasn’t a hat to his back,” interposed the Doctor-in-Law, spitefully.
“Hold your tongue,” said the Sister-in-Law. “I’m dealing with him now. Do you suppose,” she went on, “that I am to be openly defied by a ridiculous Wallypug and a person with a cold in his head?”
“I’b sure I havn’d,” declared A. Fish, Esq., indignantly. “By code’s beed cured this last bunth or bore.”
“Humph, sounds like it, doesn’t it?” said the lady, tauntingly. “However, we’ll soon settle this matter. We’ll have a public meeting, and see who’s to be master, you or I.”
“Hooray, public meeting! Public meeting!” shouted all the creatures excitedly.
“Yes, and at once,” said the Sister-in-Law impressively, getting up and leaving the table, regardless of the fact that scarcely anybody had as yet had any breakfast.
The rest of the creatures followed her out of the room.
When they had quite disappeared and the Wallypug, A. Fish, Esq., and myself were left alone, I thought that we might as well help ourselves to some breakfast. So I poured out some of the coffee, which we found excellent, and had just succeeded in persuading his Majesty to try a little bread and butter, when some crocodiles appeared at the door and announced: “You are commanded to attend the trial at once.”
“What trial?” I asked.
“Your own,” was the reply. “You and the Wallypug are to be tried for ‘Contempt of Sister-in-Law,’ and A. Fish, Esq., is subpœnaed as a witness.”
“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” said the poor Wallypug, wringing his hands. “I know what that means. Whatever shall we do?”
“Dever bide, old chap. I do the best I cad to get you off,” said A. Fish, Esq. “Cub alog, it will odly bake badders worse to delay.”
So we allowed ourselves to be taken in charge by the crocodiles, and led to the Public Hall, his Majesty and myself being loaded with chains.
We found the Sister-in-Law and the Doctor-in-Law seated at the judges’ bench when we entered. The Sister-in-Law wore a judge’s red robe, and a long, flowing wig under her usual head-dress, and the Doctor-in-Law was provided with a slate, pencil, and sponge.
We were conducted to a kind of dock on one side of the bench, and on the other side appeared what afterwards transpired to be the witness box. The body of the hall was crowded with animals, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of us.
“Silence in court,” screamed out a gaily-dressed ostrich, and the trial began.
“We’ll take the man creature first,” said the Sister-in-Law, regarding me contemptuously. “Now then, speak up! What have you got to say for yourself?”
“There appears to be – ” I began.
“Silence in court,” shouted the ostrich, who was evidently an official.
“Surely I may be allowed to explain,” I protested.
“Silence in court,” shouted the bird again.
I gave it up and remained silent. “Call the first witness,” remarked the Sister-in-Law impatiently, and the Turtle, whom I had seen cleaning the steps in the morning, walked briskly up into the witness-box.
“Well, Turtle, what do you know about this man?” was the first question.
“So please your Importance, I was cleaning my steps very early this morning, when the prisoner opened the door in a stealthy manner and crept out very quietly. ‘Ho!’ thinks I, ‘this ’ere man’s up to no good,’ and so I keeps him in conversation a little while, but his language – oh! – and what with one thing and another and noticing that he hadn’t a hat, I told him he had better move on. I saw him walk over to the rose garden and afterwards join the Wallypug and Mr. Fish. I think that’s all, except – ahem – that I missed a small piece of soap.”
“Soap?” said the Doctor-in-Law, elevating his eyebrows. “This is important – er – er – what kind of soap?”
“Yellow,” said the Turtle. “Fourpence a pound.”
“Hum!” said the Doctor-in-Law, “very mysterious, but not at all surprising from what I know of this person – call the next witness.”
The next witness was the Cockatoo, who scrambled into the box in a great fluster.
“He’s a story-teller, and a pickpocket, and a backbiter, and a fibber, and a bottle-washer,” she screamed excitedly, “and a heartless deceiver, and an organ-grinder, so there!” And she danced out of the witness-box again excitedly, muttering, “Down with him, down with him, the wretch