The Old Tobacco Shop

"Why," he said, "I must be grown up!"

"Grown up is the word," said Toby, "but I'd 'a' known you anywhere. Twenty-one years old, I should say."

"Twenty-two," said Mr. Punch.

Everyone now fell silent. The young and lovely lady, who had said nothing during their talk, was smiling from one to another. She seemed to feel no embarrassment nor concern, nor anything indeed but happiness. She looked at Toby with a smile, and all the men looked at her.

"Do you know me?" she said to Toby.

"You are changed," said he, "that's a fact. But I always knew that Aunt Amanda was like that, down deep inside of her. If she could only have looked like what she was, that's the way she would have looked, and I always knew it. I'm glad you've come to look like yourself at last."

"Ah!" said the beautiful lady. "I am glad you don't feel that I am strange to you. I know you all now, better than I have ever known you. You have been with me a long while, under disguise. I don't seem to remember very well what your disguises were, for I seem to have known you always as you are: my loyal knight," (turning to Freddie), "my body-guard," (turning to Mr. Toby and Mr. Punch), "my confessor," (turning to Thomas the Inferior), "and my courier," (turning to Mr. Hanlon). "In my exile you have been with me, and in my homecoming you shall be with me still."

"We hope to be with you always," said the tall young knight who used to be Freddie. "But we are beginning to be noticed. I have seen one or two people stare from the shop windows. We had better hurry to one of those shops and seek refuge until we can find proper clothes."

"Ah, no!" said the lady, with a radiant smile. "I must hasten home. They have been waiting a long time, and I must not lose a moment. I know the way! This street is changed since I was here, but I know it! I know the way! Come with me! I am going home!"

She placed her empty hour-glass in Freddie's hand, and led the way up the street. Her bare feet trod the pavement swiftly; she walked as if she had never known what it was to be lame; she went swimmingly, with a motion of infinite grace. The others looked about them, uneasily, as they followed, but she seemed to care nothing for the eyes of the people. The ox-cart stopped as it came to them, and the driver who was walking beside it stopped also, and gazed at them with his mouth open. Faces appeared at shop-windows as they went by, and figures appeared at shop-doors. Two or three foot-passengers passed them, and after they had gone, went to the nearest shop-door and stood there for a moment in talk with the shop-keeper. They then began to follow the strange white-clad group up the street. In a few moments others joined them. Freddie looked behind, and wished to run; but the lady who was leading paid no attention.

A little further on she turned a corner, and the party found themselves in a much busier street. The sidewalks were alive with people. In a moment there was a great silence. When the six figures first appeared, some of the people began to laugh. Then they looked at the face of the lady who swept along in advance of her attendants, and they laughed no more. They began to whisper one to another. They fell apart, and made way for her and her attendants. They stopped; they forgot their own affairs; some ran into the shops and called out the persons who were within; they gaped, and whispered, and nodded, and held up their hands, and with one accord began to follow.

Further on, heads appeared from the windows of pleasure-towers and pleasure-domes; doors opened; all who could walk joined themselves to the crowd which was following the wondrous lady and her five strange companions.

Deeper and deeper into the city; on past the region of shops into the region of gardens and mansions; up by a gradual ascent to the place of the largest and tallest towers and domes; on they went, the six white-gowned and bare-footed figures before, and the crowd behind; and the further they went, the greater became the crowd; and still there was no sound from the people, except the sound of an awestruck whispering.

The dark cloud on the mountain-top was now plainly in view before them between the towers and domes, and they could see the great mass of the King's Tower where it rose to the cloud and lost itself within it. At the end of the street which they were now following a majestic gateway could be seen, and beyond it a park.

Behind them the street was choked from wall to wall with a vast multitude. From every house, as the multitude passed, its people poured forth and joined the throng; business was forgotten; shops and houses were deserted; it seemed as if the whole city was in the street, following the lady and her five attendants. She looked not behind her once. She seemed to be unaware of anything in the world about her; her eyes shone like stars; she had forgotten even her companions; she spoke not a word, but looked forward to the stately gateway and the park beyond. Still no sound came from the multitude, except a sound of whispering.

They reached the gateway. On each side was a great stone pillar, supporting a gate of massive bronze. The gates were open. Without an instant's hesitation she led the way within, and as she did so placed her left hand on her heart. The throng seemed to waver a moment, and then as the six barefoot and white-gowned figures moved swiftly up the driveway into the park, it flowed in silently between the gates, and followed at a respectful distance.

Before them, at a distance, on a knoll from which terraces of velvet grass descended, stood the palace of the King; white and broad and flat-roofed.

Passing a grove of trees, the lady left the roadway and stepped into the smooth grass of a lawn, and sped across it directly towards the terraces before the palace of the King. She mounted the gentle slope, her five friends following her; and the vast throng, filling the park to the gates, came on behind. She reached the first terrace; her hand was still on her heart. A dog barked.

Windows in the palace front began to go up, and faces to appear. From an archway sprang a pack of beautiful tall white curly-haired dogs, and rushed on the lady, barking. Freddie made as if to protect her, but she waved him back with a smile. The dogs sprang up as if to devour her, but they did no harm; they barked as if their throats would burst; they leaped and gambolled about her; they thrust their noses into her hand; they almost spoke; and in the midst of it there appeared upon the wide steps before the palace door a noble-looking man, and beside him three children.

At sight of this man and the children, the lady covered her eyes for an instant with her hands, and gave a sob; but she quickly looked up, and sped on more swiftly than before, her hands hanging beside her, and a bright misty look in her eyes.

The man upon the palace steps shaded his eyes with his hands, and gazed upon her and the multitude spread out across the park behind her. One of the children, a tiny boy, he took by the hand, and another, a girl a little older, he grasped with his other hand; and with the third, a boy of something over nine, beside them, they all four came down the steps and crossed the terrace to meet the radiant lady.

On the next terrace they met. He dropped his children's hands, and stopped. He was a man of some thirty years, richly clad, and handsome beyond measure. As he stopped, the multitude found its voice. A mighty shout went up.

"Long live the King! Long live the King!"

He paid no attention. His eyes were on the fair lady before him. A cry from the oldest boy rang out clear and sharp in the silence.

"Mother!"

The King held out his arms.

"My darling!" he cried. "At last! At last!"

"Beloved!" she cried, and rushed into his arms, and buried her face in his shoulder.

The children clung to her, weeping, and with one arm she pressed them close against her side.

The multitude found its voice again.

"Long live Queen Miranda! Long live Queen Miranda!"

CHAPTER XXV

THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN

"There's an Old Man," said Robert to Freddie. "He lives on the mountain. I saw him once."

They were sitting on the palace lawn, looking up at the mountain which rose behind the King's tower. The sun was directly overhead, and was accordingly hidden by the cloud. The lower slopes of the mountain were easy and gradual, but they grew steeper as they ascended, and at the point where the mountain entered the cloud it was a straight and smooth wall of granite, plainly impossible to climb. The King's eldest child fixed his big eyes on the tall young man beside him.

"I like you," said he. "I wish you would take me up the mountain some time for blackberries. Will you?"

"If the Queen permits," said Freddie, "we will go tomorrow."

A long time had passed since the Queen's return; a happy time, during which the five who had come with the Queen were made to feel as if they had lived all their lives in a palace. The two Old Codgers were found by Toby, comfortably established in a double shop of their own, on one side of which the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg sold tobacco, and on the other side of which the Sly Old Fox sold jewelry; each of them entirely contented with his fortune, and settled down for life. The Third Vice-President had paid his respects at the palace, and was unable to talk of anything but his Museum, for which he was devising many plans, including a method whereby the late Mr. Matthew Speak might be assured against ever being blown out of the window.

The saintly person who had once been the Churchwarden was occupied nowadays, in a little room in the basement of the palace, in copying in beautiful letters an ancient book belonging to the King.

Mr. Punch and Mr. Toby spent their time in exploring the city, arm in arm, very inquisitive, very talkative, and making friends with everybody.

Mr. Hanlon's work in life was, it appeared, the climbing of the King's Tower. Every day he disappeared within, and every day he declared that he would mount to the top before he finished; but he had not yet got to the top, and there did not seem much prospect of his ever doing so.

As for Freddie, – not that he was called Freddie now; the King had given him a high-sounding name, – the Chevalier Frederick; and by that name he was spoken of by everybody, except that Toby sometimes forgot and called him the Chandelier. As for the Chevalier Frederick, his interest was mainly in the Queen's three children, Robert, Genevieve, and James; and at the present moment the oldest, Robert, was sitting with the Chevalier on the palace lawn, gossiping.

"We will go tomorrow," the Chevalier was saying, and then the little boy Robert went on about the old man he had seen on the mountain.

"I saw him once," said Robert. "Just before Mother went away. I ran away from home, I did, and I was gone all day. Mother was terribly worried. I ran away to the mountain, and I was muddy all over when I got back, and it was dark, too! Mother was terribly worried. I was gone all day, I was; and I didn't get back until after dark, I didn't; and I was muddy all over. Oh, but it was dark. Mother, she was terribly worried." He stopped to think it over, and then went on again. "There wasn't any Tower then. It was just before the old chap came and built the Tower in a night; you know about that, don't you? I ran away and didn't come home until after dark, I didn't; Mother was worried; and Jenny – I never call her Genevieve, because Jenny's shorter – and Jenny wouldn't go because she was afraid, and James was too little, so I went all by myself; and it was getting pretty dark, and I was starting home down the mountain, because I knew Mother would be worried, and I saw the Old Man coming down the mountain, and he didn't see me, and he had a pack on his back and a long stick in his hand, and a gown belted in about the middle, and he was kind of fat and bald-headed; and he didn't see me but I saw him, and pretty soon he went down into a gully and I didn't see him any more, and I came on home, because it was getting dark, and I knew Mother would be worried."

"Then perhaps we had better not go up there," said Freddie.

"Oh no," said Robert. "It's a grand place to climb and gather berries and flowers. And I'd like to see the Old Man again. Will you take me there today?"

"Tomorrow," said Freddie, "if the Queen will permit."

At this moment Mr. Hanlon appeared, somewhat out of breath, and he and Freddie went into the palace together. He was quite jubilant.

"Faith," said he, "'tis a tower indade, that tower, and a swate little bit of a journey to the top of it, if there's iver a top at all. But it's Michael Hanlon will do it, by the bones of St. Patrick, and don't ye forget what I'm tellin' ye, me b'y. I've been up there this day, so high, so high – ! I'll niver tell ye how high. It's comin' better; me wind and me legs are better; in a wake, or two wakes, 'tis meself will be fit for the grand ascent, and then there'll be news from the top, and a proud look in the eye of Michael Hanlon, Esquire! Wait and see, me b'y!"

The next morning, Queen Miranda having given her consent, Freddie and Robert left the palace for their day on the mountain. All day they wandered up the trails, and in the afternoon, when their luncheon was all gone and they were tired, they began to descend. It was growing dark; they had had a glorious day, and they were sorry it would soon be over. They stretched themselves on the ground beneath a mountain oak, and looked below them, past the Tower, across the roof of the palace to the city. There was no living thing in sight, except a bird which sailed across their view and disappeared. "Well, Robert," said Freddie, "I suppose the Old Man who used to be here is gone. Come; we must go; your mother will be worried."