“Alice, you are sure there are no mice in this little hovel?”
“There are no mice in the cottage, Princess, and cockroach powder has been laid night and morning for the last month in preparation for your coming.”
“There’s the bell for vespers. Quick! let me to the windows to see the priests’ procession through the cloisters. Alice, you are an angel to have got us this place. I feel like a nun, living thus under the shadow of the Temple. Do these rags become me? Am I dirty enough?”
“I shame to look upon you, Princess, you have disguised yourself so utterly.”
“No--no--look at my teeth. Are they not white as ever?”
“Against your dirty face I think they look still whiter.”
“And my eyes--are they not still a vivid, verdant green?”
“They sparkle more in contrast to the dulness of your skin.”
“And my hair--but it must be dyed. It must, or I shan’t wash it for a year. My hair must be dark like my face, if I am to be a proper beggar girl.”
“Touch your hair by so much as one thread, Princess, and I leave you here alone to the mice and cockroaches.”
“Oh! Alice! the High Priest hasn’t come. There’s only two big Golden Ones. Oh! Look! Yes! There he is! Ah! my darling! Till I have kissed your lips the boiler lid is a dangerous position.”
“Kissed his lips?”
“Of course! Why not? Isn’t it legitimate to want to kiss the man you love?”
“Yes--but his lips look as hard as marble.”
“All the more pleasure in softening them with a kiss. And if that won’t do--put him in the boiler and boil him. Science explains exactly how he must be treated.”
“Princess, he is holy. It shows a want of reverence to speak of him as you are speaking.”
“Ought you to respect the man you love?”
“I know no other meaning for it.”
“What a fat uninteresting Jonathan you’ll marry, Alice--and what fat uninteresting children yours will be. Now, to fall in love--down to the very apex of your heart, means having no respect for yourself, and less for the man in question. As soon as you begin to have respect, all love vanishes.”
“Princess, you have had a better education than I--I cannot argue the point.”
“What time are vespers over?”
“When the High Priest goes they are over in twenty minutes. He isn’t fond of a drawling service.”
“And he doesn’t approve of anything nasal, I hear. On opinions of Service he and I are married already.”
“You could never marry him, Princess. It’s against the law.”
“There are no laws. A strong man is a law unto himself.”
“Heaven protect us during this mad whim of yours! Heaven protect us, I say! Remember we have not now the shelter of the Palace.”
“But who dare come where there are cockroaches--and at one time even--even mice,” and she lifted up her dainty rags--for they were dainty--and shivered to her dainty finger-tips. “Where is my old straw hat? Find it me, quick. They’ll be out before I’m ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“Ready to go and look at him. Did you seriously think I meant to stay in this little cottage all the while? I want to go and stare at the big man just as a poor girl might, to see what it is like. Thanks. I never wore a twenty-guinea hat with half the pleasure as in this crack-brimmed sailor. Ugly! Ugly! Ugly isn’t the word for me,” and the door slammed to behind her, and Alice sat down by the fire with tears and laughter and no small amount of fear in her eyes.
“Ugly? No--ugly isn’t the word. Why don’t the women of fashion take a change and dress themselves in rags? But oh! Serpent, why was I put to look after her, when she even talks of boiling the great High Priest? Thank the Serpent’s three tails I went to the Board-School and learnt self-control and morality, and--and--increased the taxes.”
The Princess of Ellel once out of the shadow of the cottage, crossed the narrow street into the precincts of the Temple. The air was crisp, and the sun setting in accordance with the vesper hour; and she walked up the broad front steps with a heart that beat with much more anticipation than actual love. She had not been there long before the High Priest’s carriage drew up in the spacious square below--and an extravagant lamplighter began lighting the round-glassed street lamps. All this excited her curiosity, for she was young enough to notice everything, but her ears followed the rumbling of the organ inside, and by it she judged the progress of the Service. At last it was over, and the few people who had been in attendance came away. Then a pause followed, and at last the smaller door was again flung open, and this time the High Priest came out, followed by those personally attached to him. For a moment she was seized with such shyness that she stepped back quickly into the shadow, but this was momentary, and the reaction absolute.
“Sir! I beg a penny of you. Please a penny. My mother is dead, my father is drunk, my little sisters and brothers are dependent on me. Please give me a penny, sir; just a penny.”
So she followed him down the many steps with frequent repetition, but he--being a great man--was eaten up with thought, and his Chaplain tried to rebuke her, but she paid no heed. At last, when the august foot was placed on the carriage step, Marigold could stand his absent mind no longer--her tiny fingers clutched at the long sleeve of his gown.
“If you have no copper, sir, give me silver; if no silver, gold. We are dying of hunger, and the Serpent is kind to the poor who believe on him. Sir, if you have none other, give me gold.”
Thus adjured, Alphonso stood and looked at her--the hard, disappointed eyes into the enigmatical eyes of youth.
“Gold!” replied he, with great displeasure and rebuke. “In rags, and asking gold! What is Lucifram coming to? Tell her, Eaglestone, she may come round to the Palace for a bread ticket,” and he got inside.
“Young woman,” said the Chaplain, not unkindly, “the side door of the Palace is open every day at noon that bread and soup may be distributed. Bring your children then--they will be well fed if they are hungry.”
“But supper,” she cried, tears rising in abundance; “we have no food, we have eaten nothing all day. We’ll be dead to-morrow,” and her pretty shoulders shook with the grim hardness of it.
“Eaglestone! I have a meeting at eight. No time for my dinner, absolutely no time. If you’ve promised her the ticket, come.”
“My Lord, she says they’ve nothing in the house to-night.”
“I don’t approve of the colour of her hair--I----”
“Oh, sir, I don’t approve of it myself. I hate my hair, I always have done. Take it if you will, only--only give me something in return.”
The High Priest’s face relaxed almost to a smile--the suffering of beauty is not unpleasant, especially when beauty is in a reckless generous mood.
“Here! silly child, take this silver. It is against my rule to give beggars anything but bread. Get what you want, and thank the Serpent.”
“Indeed I will, your holiness. Indeed I will. I will do both.”
And laughing and smiling, holding the coins to her bosom--its loveliness the more revealed by rags--she watched them drive away.
And the High Priest leaned back and laughed, and rather wished the Chaplain were not present. For what had taken him back to over twenty years ago, he a younger man in the zenith of his power? Why, nothing that he could unravel; only, as they neared the Palace, he suddenly sat up, banging the light stick he walked with on the ground.
“Damn it!” said he, as when Mr Barringcourt’s disciple, “where have I seen those eyes before?”
