Part 11 (1/2)
”Is it far away?”
”I afraid it is, Dorothy.”
”Oh!--and hard to get to?”
”Yes though it depends altogether upon who is at the helm.”
Lisbeth very slowly began to tie a knot in the rudder-line.
”Well, Auntie's steering now. Could she get us there?”
”Yes, she could get us there, if she would.”
”Oh!” cried Dorothy, ”do--do steer for the Land of Heart's Delight, Auntie Lisbeth; it sounds so pretty, and I'm sure Louise would like it ever so much.”
But Lisbeth only laughed, and tied another knot in the rudder-line.
”The Land of Heart's Delight!” repeated Dorothy. ”It sounds rather like Auntie's tale of the Fairy Prince. His name was Trueheart.”
”And what was Prince Trueheart like?” I inquired.
”Fine!” broke in the Imp. ”He used to fight dragons, you know.”
”And he lived in a palace of crystal,” continued Dorothy, ”and he was so good and kind that the birds used to make friends with him!”
”An' he wore gold armour, an' a big feather in his helmet!”
supplemented the Imp.
”And of course he loved the beautiful princess,” I ended.
”Yes,” nodded Dorothy; ”but how did you know there was a beautiful princess?”
”Uncle d.i.c.k knows everything, of course,” returned the Imp sententiously.
”Do you think the beautiful princess loved the prince, Dorothy?” I asked, glancing at Lisbeth's averted face.
”Well,” answered Dorothy, pursing her mouth thoughtfully, ”I don't know, Uncle d.i.c.k; you see, Auntie hasn't got to that yet, but everybody loves somebody sometime, you know. Betty--she's our cook, you know--Betty says all nice tales end up in marrying and living happy ever after.”
”Not a doubt of it,” said I, resting on my oars. ”What do you think, Lisbeth?” She leaned back and regarded me demurely beneath her long lashes for a moment.
”I think,” she answered, ”that it would be much nicer if you would go on rowing.”
”One more question,” I said. ”Tell me, has this Prince Trueheart got a moustache?”
”Like Mr. Selwyn?” cried the Imp; ”should think not. The prince was a fine chap, an' used to kill dragons, you know.”
”Ah! I'm glad of that,” I murmured, pa.s.sing my fingers across my shaven upper lip; ”very glad indeed.” Lisbeth laughed, but I saw her colour deepen and she looked away.
”Oh, it must be lovely to kill a dragon!” sighed the Imp.