Part 16 (1/2)
”You are very sharp, youngster!” said Red Rex sulkily. ”Begone to your home and leave me to finish my work.”
”If I go,” said Harold slowly, ”I shall tell the whole town what I have discovered. The news will travel through the Five Kingdoms--how a King disguised as an old woman stole six pies--”
”Hold!” cried Red Rex sternly. ”Enough of this impertinence! Remember to whom you speak, boy! I am a King.”
”Yes, you are that King. But I thought always it was the '_Knave_ of Hearts who stole the tarts,' not the King. How did Your Majesty manage to do it?” asked Harold curiously.
”Aha!” The Red King tried to appear easy and unconscious. ”It is my turn now to tell a story, is it? Oho! You want to hear how the old woman got into your careless town, do you? And how she went along your unguarded streets, do you? And how she crept into your unbolted cottage, do you?
And how she found the goodly row of pies sitting on the pantry shelf?
Ah! I shall never look upon their like again!”
”Nor I,” said Harold promptly. ”And one was yours, Your Majesty.”
Red Rex cast down his eyes. ”That is the thing that chiefly troubles me,” he said. ”I am sorry I did not know the fact. Your mother was very thoughtful, Harold.”
”Please tell me all about it, Your Majesty?” begged Harold, settling himself comfortably on the gra.s.s before the War-Lord. ”I want to hear the story. It is your turn now. You owe me that, at least.”
”Well,” said Red Rex choosing his words slowly. ”You see, I had to have those pies. Kings may take what they choose, because,--well, because they are Kings. That is reason enough,--say I! After that first bite you gave me, I felt that I needed more to make me happy. A King has a right to be happy, whatever happens to another,--say I. I had brought disguises with me; for we have ever found them useful in making war.
Last night I dressed up as an old woman, in petticoat and ap.r.o.n, bonnet and shawl. None of my men knew. As soon as it was dark I went to the gate of your town, pretending to be a countrywoman returning to Kisington from a visit beyond the frontier, who had not heard of the siege, and begged the guard to let me in quickly out of danger's way.
Oh! You are such stupid, trusting folk in your Kingdom! The men believed me, and let me in because I seemed old and it was late, and they pitied me. The fools! Pity is out of place in war-time. A city so ill-defended deserves to be taken and hara.s.sed,--say I!”
”We are trustful in our town because our own hearts are truthful and kind,” said Harold.
”When the warders had let me in,” went on Red Rex, ”I pa.s.sed along the main street toward the market-place, with my basket on my arm; and no one noticed me, for it was dark. I knew my way; you told me yesterday how the streets lay. Presently I came to a great, handsome building with a ruined porch,--upon my word, huge as my summer palace by the sea!--out of which people pa.s.sed in a constant stream, with books under their arms.”
”It was our library,” said Harold proudly.
”So I judged,” went on the Red King. ”I concealed myself in an angle of the building until it should be darker, and watched. Little children came out of that library, who in my country would be playing at war with guns and toy cannon. Old men and women, whom I should expect to see caring only to smoke and mumble and gossip about past wars, brought out books which they hugged lovingly. Young maids, such as in my land care only to look at the soldiers and dance and prink; and young men who should be drilling or dueling or talking war,--all these came out looking happy and content with the books which they had in hand. I never saw such a sight!”
”Yes,” said Harold; ”It is always so in Kisington. We have no time to think about war or soldiers or killing.”
”Strange!” muttered Red Rex. ”I was tempted to go myself into that great building and see if any book might be found with a message in it for me.
But I did not take the risk.”
”I know such a Book!” interrupted Harold; ”a Book of Peace.”
”I guess what you mean,” said the Red King hastily. ”We have that Book in my kingdom, too, of course. We honor it highly,--do not think otherwise! We have it in the churches, and bind it in gold, and keep it as something curious and old. But we do not often read it--why should we? A peace book has no message for our brave and warlike people. To think so is absurd!”
”Oh!” said Harold.
”Well,” continued Red Rex; ”after a long, long time the streets were quite empty. Presently I heard the chimes of midnight. Then I crept out of my hiding-place and stole along the High Street, of which you had told me, till I came to the butcher's shop. Beside it, sure enough, was a little cottage with a thatched roof which I knew must be yours. The window was open, and I looked in; no one about. The door was unlocked, and in I went. What carelessness!”
”We never lock our doors in Kisington,” said Harold. ”We think it would be rude not to trust our good neighbors, who trust us.”
”Huh!” grunted the Red King. ”In my Kingdom every door is double-barred, locked and bolted beside. He who trusts n.o.body is never disappointed,--so I say.”
”I should hate to live in that kind of Kingdom,” murmured Harold. ”But I know what happened next,” he went on, continuing the Red King's story.
”You fumbled along the wall with a noise like a mouse. You stepped on a creaky board.”