Форд Мэдокс Форд
The Feather
‘But who gave it to you?’
‘How on earth should I know? I could see nobody. Just as I was raising the pistol to shoot – bang! it came. I wouldn’t try it again for anything.’
‘What a nuisance it is that you let that feather fall out of the eagle’s tail. You could have done it easily then. As it is, I don’t know what to do. You won’t try again, and I’m too old, and no one else in the country would hurt him for love or money. There’s only one other thing to do, and it’s not an easy task, anyway.’
‘Oh, never mind the ease or difficulty. If it’s possible to be done, I’ll do it.’
‘Then I’ll tell you. You’ll have to cut his thread of life.’
‘Really, and what with?’
‘Oh, anything you like. The trouble is to get to the place where they’re kept.’
‘Oh! and where is that?’
‘They’re kept by three old women who live in the moon. They’re called the Fates.’
‘And how am I to get to the moon?’
‘That’s just it. You’ll have to take a boat one evening at six, and if you sail straight towards the moon while she is visible, and anchor when she is out of sight, in three weeks and two days you will reach the end of the sea, where the moon touches at night, and then you can get out of the boat; and take care to haul it up out of reach of the sea, or else it’ll be carried off, and you won’t be able to get back to the earth again.’
‘And when I’ve got to the moon what am I to do?’
‘The moon’s not a very large place, although it’s certainly larger than it looks from the earth. There are five people who live in the moon. One is the man in the moon, the rest are all women; these are three Fates, who sit twisting the threads of life into one large rope, and besides that there’s Diana; but she keeps to herself, and never troubles about the other four. When you touch the shore you’ll see the man in the moon. He’s a wrinkled old man, who carries a bundle of sticks and a lanthorn. When you meet him, give him a loaf of bread to pacify him, for the moon being made of green cheese they have nothing else to eat, and so they’re very fond of bread to eat with it. Ask him the way to the Miss Parkers – those are the three Fates. He’ll show you in reward for the bread, and then you’ll see the house. Knock at the door, and when it’s opened, slip in. The Fates are blind, and won’t see you. When you get in you’ll see a lot of reels of silver threads. Among them you’ll see his thread. You’ll know it by the label on the reel. Cut that and those of the King and Queen, and then come back again as soon as you like.’
‘Very well, then; when shall I start?’ asked Wopole.
‘When you will.’
‘Will to-morrow evening do?’
‘Yes, quite well.’
‘Very well, I’ll start to-morrow evening about eight. In the meantime, I must see about getting food, as I’m not a fasting man.’
‘Very well, do.’
Just then came a knock at the door, and Wopole said:
‘Well, I suppose it’s settled. I shall open the door and see who’s knocking.’
‘Yes, do. I suppose it’s some one come to buy this Princess.’
‘Oh, is it?’ and Wopole went to open the door.
The Princess meanwhile quietly slipped upstairs and took the feather out. In a few moments she heard a voice calling her, and she went down. She found the Prince with the other two in the little parlour.
‘Good-morning, Ernalie,’ he said; and she answered, ‘Good-morning.’
‘This absurd man,’ the Prince went on, ‘insists that you shall be weighed, although I offered him two thousand ounces of gold; and I’m sure you don’t weigh that. However, he will have you weighed, and it can’t be helped.’
‘I suppose it can’t,’ said the Princess.
So she was weighed. It doesn’t matter what she did weigh, but it was less than two thousand ounces. The Prince ordered the two men whom he had brought with him as bearers of the gold, to stop and see it properly weighed out, and then he set out with the Princess for the town.
‘I thought you wouldn’t mind there not being an escort,’ he said apologetically; ‘but all the people about the Palace are busy preparing for a festival.’
The Princess said she didn’t mind at all.
She had not had much time to think about what she had heard Wopole and Mumkie say, nevertheless she determined to tell the Prince all she had heard.
When he had listened to it all, he laughed.
‘Ah, well, if that’s all I’ve got to fear I’m quite safe. He’s sure to get drowned if he tries,’ was all he said; and he refused to say anything more on the subject.
So they went quietly on till they came to a slight hill down which the road went, and from the top they could see the city shining in the morning sun.
‘It’s a very beautiful place, isn’t it?’ said the Prince.
‘Very beautiful; only my own country is far more beautiful.’
‘It must be very beautiful indeed, then. However, I suppose this is good enough for you while you are away from your own country.’
‘It’ll have to be, at any rate,’ said the Princess dismally, as they went down the hill.
They soon reached the city, and went, through crowds of bowing citizens and citizenesses, to the Palace, where they found the King and Queen anxiously awaiting them.
‘So you’ve come at last,’ the King said; ‘I was afraid that you would come to some harm with that Mumkie.’
But the Princess laughed.
‘Oh no,’ she said; ‘I’m quite able to take care of myself and of other people too; and while I was in the house I heard something of great importance.’ And she proceeded to tell them what she had heard.
But when she had finished, the King laughed even more than his son had done.
‘Why, my dear little girl,’ he said, ‘do you believe all that rigmarole? They were having a joke at your expense. They must have heard you outside the door and wanted to frighten you. Don’t you think of such rubbish. Why, if they tried it on alone they’d get swallowed up in a storm; and I’m sure none of my people would ever help them.’
But the Princess did not feel at all convinced, all the same.
‘You might just as well have them put in prison, and then they couldn’t do anything.’
But the King shook his head.
‘That’s just it, you see; I’ve only just let them go, and I can’t put them into prison unless they’ve committed some fresh crime.’
‘But isn’t it treason to compass the death of the King or his eldest son?’
‘It is; but then it’s such a foolish scheme that no one would believe any one capable of inventing it. So we’d better leave it alone.’
But still the Princess was not at all convinced.
‘If you won’t stop him going, I shall go with him,’ she said.
‘But he won’t take you,’ said the King.
‘He won’t be able to help it,’ said she.
‘Oh, well, have your own way, my dear,’ said the King good-naturedly; for he thought she would change her mind. But she was quite in earnest.
However, she didn’t say anything more about it, and the rest of the day went on quietly.
The old King and his son attended the council just as if nothing unusual had ever intervened between it and the last council they had held before they had been turned out. As for the Queen and Princess, they occupied themselves with choosing dresses for a grand ball that was to be given on the day after the morrow. So that the time was pretty well filled up until the evening; and as the Princess said she felt rather tired, she went out to take a walk on the sands by the sea. To tell the truth, she intended to see whether Wopole were not making preparations.
Now it so happened that the Prince, too, was going out to take an evening stroll, and so they went together; and as the town was rather full, they walked along the beach to get out of the way of the enthusiastic populace, who insisted on congratulating him on his good fortune. This is a habit of populaces, they are all fond of congratulating any one who is successful – but they never assist any one to success if they can help it. So they walked on for some time, and as the evening was approaching, turned back towards the harbour.
Now it happened that as they came round a bend of the shore they noticed a crowd assembled round one of the boats.
‘I wonder what the excitement is?’ said the Princess.
‘I don’t know, really, unless it’s some gigantic dog-fish, or perhaps they’ve found a scale of the sea-serpent. Shall we go and look at it?’
‘Yes, let us,’ said the Princess eagerly.
And so they went towards the crowd, who made way at their approach.
‘Why, it’s Wopole!’ said the Princess suddenly; and so it was.
‘What is he up to?’ asked the Prince of one of the bystanders.
‘I don’t know, your Majesty, only we saw him coming along bringing packages of things to his boat here, and we thought we’d come and see that he wasn’t up to mischief.’
The Prince then spoke to Wopole, who was looking angrily at him.
‘Well, Wopole,’ he said, ‘what are you up to now?’
‘I’m going to leave the country,’ said he angrily.
‘A good thing for the country,’ said several of the crowd. But the Prince said:
‘I’m sorry you’re going to leave us. However, I shall be glad to make you a small present before you go.’ And he felt in his coat, and after a moment’s search he drew out a minute pair of nail-scissors. ‘Perhaps these might be of some use to you. They’re very good for cutting threads of any kind. Good-day.’
And pretending not to notice his look of astonishment, he drew the Princess’s arm through his, and they walked off.
‘Why did you do that?’ asked the Princess, after they had got out of hearing.
The Prince laughed.
‘I thought it might surprise him a little,’ he said. ‘And they wouldn’t cut butter if they were heated, so he won’t do much harm with them.’
‘So you don’t mean to stop him?’
The Prince laughed.
‘No, no!’ he said; ‘why should I? He’ll never get to the moon.’
‘Then if you don’t stop him I shall go with him.’
‘I think he’ll take care that you don’t,’ retorted the Prince.
‘But he won’t be able to help himself.’
‘And why not?’
Because he won’t be able to see me.’
‘Nonsense!’
‘You may call it nonsense if you like. But do you remember some one who spoke to you last night in the square? You couldn’t see me then, and why should he stop me if he can’t see me?’
‘Good gracious! Was that you last night? How stupid of me not to recognise your voice! But you won’t go with him, will you?’
‘I shall, unless you stop him.’
‘But I promised not to stop him, and I can’t break my promise.’
‘Then I must go, that’s all. I can’t allow you and your father and mother to be killed because you’ve promised not to stop him.’
‘But, Ernalie, can’t I go instead?’
‘He wouldn’t take you, and you can’t make yourself invisible, you see.’
‘But all the same, you must not go; it’s absurd.’
‘Why?’
‘You may be drowned, or anything.’
‘If I’m drowned or anything Wopole will have to be drowned or anythinged too, so that you’ll be safe in any case.’
‘But I don’t want to be safe if you are drowned.’
‘What difference will it make to you if I’m drowned or not?’
‘Oh, Ernalie, you are too bad,’ he said earnestly. ‘Can’t you see I love you more than all the world?’
The Princess looked at him in utter astonishment.
‘You love me!’ she said, with her lips parted and the colour coming and going in her cheeks. ‘Why, whatever made you?’
And the Prince answered naturally:
‘Why, you did, of course.’
‘But you’ve not known me for more than two days.’
‘If I had known you only for two hours it would have been more than enough. You are the most beautiful girl I ever saw.’
‘Perhaps you’ve not seen many,’ said the Princess.
He took no notice of her flippant remark – he was very much in earnest.
‘I love you as much as the whole world, and a great deal besides. And don’t you love me a little in return?’
‘Well, to tell the truth, I never thought of it at all before; but now I come to think of it I do love you, and a very great deal too – if you don’t tease.’
So they prolonged the stroll indefinitely, thinking nothing about the unpleasant walking that the heavy shingle afforded, or even that it was getting very dark, and that the air was chilly with the night and the sea-foam that the wind blew against them, so that it was after supper-time by a great deal when they arrived at the Palace once more. But all that he could say would not persuade her not to go with Wopole, although she was very sorry that she could not stop. But, as she said, it was no use stopping if her love died, and if any one was to die she would be the one. Wopole was sure to die with her, so the Prince would be safe at any rate. And although the King and Queen both tried to dissuade her it made no difference. She refused to promise not to go.
So on the next day they watched her carefully, though without hindering her going about.
The day went past just as the day before had done, and about the same time in the evening she asked the Prince to go down to the beach with her, and they went just as before. But all the while the Prince kept fast hold of her hand.
So they walked along the beach as the wind freshened, and they talked of all sorts of things, – it is not necessary to say what.
But the Princess noticed that the boat which Wopole had loaded with provisions was almost in the water, and Wopole and Mumkie were both standing talking by it.
So she drew the feather quietly out of her pocket, for you may be sure she had not forgotten to bring it. Suddenly she said:
‘Oh dear! my shoe’s full of sand. I must take it off and shake it out.’
‘Will you let me do it for you?’ said the Prince, who stepped easily into the trap.
‘Yes, you might, if it’s not too much trouble,’ she said.
So he knelt down, and unlaced her shoe, took it off, and shook out the sand, and then put it on again for her. He was just getting up again when the Princess gave him a little push, so that he lost his balance altogether, and before he could recover himself she put the feather to her hair, and ran along the sands to the boat which Wopole and Mumkie were just about to launch.
She stepped over the back just before they reached it, and then she went at once to the front of the boat in order not to be in the way of Wopole when he got on board. In a moment the boat was dancing on the water, and Wopole sprang in over the stern. The boat shipped a good deal over the bows, and the Princess got rather wet. However, she was too excited to care much about a little water.
In a few moments Wopole had hauled up the sail, and the boat began to move through the dancing waters. Just at this moment Treblo reached the edge of the sea, and saw the boat well out of his power.
‘Come back!’ he cried to Wopole.
‘Don’t you!’ said Mumkie.
‘You needn’t be afraid!’ Wopole called as loud as he could. ‘I shan’t come back!’
‘But you’ve got the Princess on board!’
‘You bet!’ remarked Wopole with familiar vulgarity now he was out of the Prince’s reach.
The Princess thought it was her turn to say something, so she called:
‘Good-bye, Treblo, my love, good-bye!’
Wopole was naturally somewhat surprised at this voice that appeared to come from nowhere in particular.
‘I suppose she’s hanging in the water,’ he said to himself out loud. ‘I shan’t trouble to help her on board if she is. I shall just let her drown.’
‘How very good of you,’ remarked Ernalie sweetly.
Wopole looked surprised.
‘Sounds as if she was on board. However, she isn’t.’
And as the Princess thought it best to be quiet, he remained of the same opinion.
All the while the boat had been getting rapidly out of the bay, and the Princess thought they were quite safe from pursuit. But suddenly Wopole rose from his seat in the stern and let down the sail.
‘What on earth is he going to do?’ thought the Princess. ‘He can’t be going to stop.’
However, it was soon pretty clear what he was going to do, for she noticed he was steering towards a large vessel that lay near them.
The way that the sail had left on the boat was sufficient to carry them to the vessel, which the boat soon bumped against. Wopole now seemed to be coming forward; and as there was not room in the boat for her to slip past him, she jumped from the bow and managed to scramble on board the ship, although it was rather difficult, and boats have a habit of slipping away under any one who tries jumping off them.
However, she luckily managed it, and was soon safe on board.
She was followed almost immediately by Wopole, who didn’t find much difficulty in getting on board; in fact, he came so quickly that he almost fell on top of the Princess. However, she just managed to slip out of his way, and he did not notice her, as he was occupied in tying the boat-rope to a cleat.
He then went through various nautical exercises – such as boxing the compass, and shivering his timbers, and danging his lee-deadlights, and other things which it takes a sailor, or a nautical novel-writer, to understand. The effect of these operations was to make the sails run up, and then the vessel bent to the freshening gale and began to walk the waters like a thing of life – at least, as like a thing of life as a wet sheet and a flowing sea and a wind to follow after, but no legs, could make it walk.
Wopole had taken the helm by this time, and he was steering a course east by west, so that they stood – that is, they walked – straight out from the shore. Thus they sailed on for an hour or two till the moon began to show itself, and then Wopole altered the course so that they sailed straight towards her. It might be as well to explain that in those days a ship was only provided with two sails, and so one man could manage a pretty large ship; and as Wopole was a very strong man, it stands to reason that he could manage a rather large ship. So, you see, it was not altogether so impossible as it looks to sail for three weeks alone on the sea, although I own it would be somewhat difficult nowadays.
When the moon rose, as I have mentioned before, Wopole steered straight for it, and he continued steering straight towards it all night – at least all the time that the moon could be seen.
Towards sunrise, however, the moon set; and as soon as he could see it no more, he let down the sail, threw his anchor overboard, and in a few moments the ship was at rest.
When this had been done he walked to a hatch, which he opened, and took out some beef, captain’s biscuits, and pickled pork. From these he cut slices and placed the slices on plates, after which he took the joints back to the hatchway and put them in the meat-safes again. Then he filled a glass with water from a little cistern that stood on deck.
After these preparations, he sat down and made a comfortable meal, and then he went downstairs – that is, down the hatchway – and into his cabin.
He seemed to have departed for good, so the Princess followed his example – at least, so far as the eating was concerned; only, she washed the knives, forks, and plates before she used them.
‘I wonder if he’ll see any difference in the size of the joints?’ she thought to herself. ‘If he does, he won’t know how it is, so that’s all right.’
So she made a hearty meal, and then replaced the things just as he had put them.
The question now was – how to pass away the time? – and it was a very difficult one to answer. There were no books to read – at least, she was not able to find any on deck. So she tried playing cat’s-cradle by herself; but that was not a very great success, because there was no one to take it up. She next attempted going to sleep, but that was not a success either. Then she tried counting how many times the ship rolled in the course of an hour; but she always forgot how many hundreds she had counted. At last she went and sat on one of the bulwarks and watched the porpoises as they played about the ship’s bows. So the day passed away and evening came, and just as the sun set Wopole came on deck yawning and stretching himself.
He looked at the vane, which was blown out nearly straight in the evening wind.
‘A nice breeze,’ the Princess heard him say to himself. ‘If the wind holds good like this it won’t take more than a fortnight.’
‘Thank goodness,’ the Princess said to herself; for she was beginning already to grow rather tired of the adventure. ‘I think I’ll go down and see what the vessel is like below-stairs.’
So she descended the dark hatchway as well as she could, though it was no easy matter, for the boat was beginning to roll in a most unpleasant manner; for, you see, the wind was freshening a good deal, and Wopole had not yet hoisted the sails. However, she managed to get to the bottom without tumbling down more than four steps at a time.
It was not quite dark in the cabin below, for an open port-hole let in the last rays of daylight.
The cabin was a very small one, though it did not seem very cosy; however, the Princess was delighted to see one thing, and that was that there were some books on a table in the centre of the cabin.
She went and looked at their titles, but it was too dark to read them, and she didn’t know where to find the matches. Through the porthole she could see that the sea was getting rougher, and the waves were beginning to dash loudly against the side of the boat.
‘It’ll be getting wet on deck,’ she thought to herself; ‘I think I shall stop where I am, for I hate being damp, and I’m quite comfortable here.’ Just at this moment she heard heavy steps coming down the hatchway. ‘Good gracious! here’s Wopole coming down. What does he want, I wonder?’
Wopole opened the door and looked in, but he didn’t seem to notice her. He just put his arm round the door and unhooked a tarpaulin coat that was hanging there. Then he took a sou’-wester from another peg and put it on his head and shut the door again, and she heard him tramp up on to the deck.
‘I suppose he’s gone for good,’ she said to herself. ‘Anyhow, I’ll lock the door, and then he won’t be able to get in.’ So she locked the door with the key that was in the lock. ‘Now I wonder where the bed is?’ she thought. ‘That place like a shelf can’t be it; but it’s got bed-clothes on it. However, I can’t get into it. I shall just lie on this sofa for the night.’
So she lay down and slept all night in spite of the noise that the wind and waves made.
She awoke next morning on hearing a most tremendous rumble and splashing.
‘What is that?’ she said to herself. ‘He must be letting out the anchor.’
And so he was; for in a moment she heard him coming downstairs.
‘I wonder what he’ll do when he finds the door locked?’ she thought.
Just then he reached the door and turned the handle, but the door refused to move; and although he kicked and banged, it was all no use.
‘I’ll go and fetch a hatchet and prise it open,’ he grunted, out of breath with his exertions; and he thumped up the stairs again.
But meanwhile the Princess unlocked the door, and seizing a couple of books at random off the bookshelf she ran up on deck; but she kept possession of the door-key.
Now it so happened that Wopole had dropped his hatchet in front of the hatchway, and he was bending down to pick it up just as she came out of it, so that the result was a collision; and as Wopole was bending down he got considerably the worst of it, although the books that the Princess was carrying were thrown right out of her hands.
Wopole got up from the sitting posture which the sudden shock had made him assume.
‘Well, this is extraordinary! Shiver my old lee-scuppers if it isn’t! Here first I can’t get into my cabin, and then I’m knocked over by my own books that come flying at my head. I think it’s those books that are the cause of the mischief, and I’ll just throw them overboard,’ and he was just bending over to pick them up. But this was too much for the Princess, who had no wish to be left for the whole of another day without books. So she snatched the books from just under his hand – at least, the book he was going to pick up – and as soon as she touched it, it became invisible.
Wopole shook his head dismally as if he had quite expected it, and then he tried to pick up the other one; but just the same thing happened. Now the Princess had just been bending down to pick the book up as he bent down, and the wind blew her hair right across his eyes. He, feeling the tickling, put his hand up to his face and caught the hair before she could draw it away.
‘What is this now?’ he said, as he examined his hand. ‘Feels like hair,’ he mused. But in his fit of musing he let his fingers relax their grasp, and she drew her hair away very quickly.
‘I thought so,’ Wopole said. ‘It was only the hair – the wind, I mean. I wonder what’s the matter with the books, though? It must be the cabin that’s bewitched them. I won’t sleep in that cabin to-day. I’ll change my apartments at once.’
And he did. So, for the rest of the time, the Princess had the cabin all to herself, and she was quite contented; for Wopole was so sure that it was bewitched, that he moved his clothes and things out of it, and never came near it again.
And the Princess had decidedly the best of it; for Wopole slept all day and watched all night, and she kept awake all day and slept all night just as usual. So the time passed away, and every night the moon got larger and larger as they got nearer and nearer, until it was quite close.
They had been a fortnight and three days out before they came to the edge of the sea, but it was eight o’clock in the evening, and the moon had just left the water, as it flew into the air like a large – a very large – white bird.
‘What a confounded nuisance!’ Ernalie heard Wopole say. ‘Now I shall have to wait the whole of another day for it to rise above the sea; and then it’s so jolly dangerous.’
The Princess couldn’t help wondering why it was so jolly dangerous; and how, if it were dangerous, it could be jolly. So she asked – quite without thinking that she was invisible:
‘Why?’
‘Why, you dunderhead!’ retorted Wopole; ‘because we’re quite near the edge of the world, and if a strong wind should rise we should be blown right over it, and then we should fall right into the sun. See, stupid?’
The Princess replied meekly:
‘I thank you.’
‘I should think you ought to thank me,’ Wopole retorted angrily. ‘It’s bad enough to have spirits on board a temperance ship without having to talk to them.’
‘But I’m not a spirit,’ said Ernalie.
‘Then who are you?’
‘I’m – ’ But she thought it best not to tell him more.
‘Oh, you are, are you?’ he replied. ‘Thanks for the information. I’m sure it wasn’t necessary for you to tell me so much, and I don’t want to know any more about you. Only, look here, I don’t know whether you want to be roasted?’
‘Of course not,’ answered the Princess.
‘Well, then, if a storm comes up it will blow us right over the world’s end into the sun; so look out. If the anchor holds, we are safe.’
‘What does the anchor hold?’ asked Ernalie.
‘The ground, of course. If it doesn’t, we shall have to hoist the sails and try to beat against the wind.’
‘I suppose you beat against the wind to make it run away?’ said Ernalie.
But Wopole replied gruffly:
‘No puns allowed on board. Now, if we have to beat against the wind, I shall have to manage the sails, so you must go to the helm.’
‘What is the helm?’ she asked.
‘That’s it,’ said Wopole, pointing to it.
‘Oh, that’s the helm; and what am I to do with it?’
‘Do what I tell you.’
‘Very well.’
‘That’s all.’
So the Princess, not seeing anything better to do, went down below to bed.
The night passed safely, and nearly the whole of the next day; but towards evening the wind began to get up. Wopole was on deck, and as he did not seem to wish to talk she let him alone. About seven the moon was to rise, and at about half-past five Ernalie went down to her cabin to get a book. She selected a small one that she had not noticed before. It was called ‘The Life and Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe of Hull, Mariner, who – ’ But before she had half finished the title-page – which, by the bye, is rather long – a sudden reeling of the vessel threw her right over to one corner of the room, and at the same time from above there sounded a shrieking as of ten thousand demons.
‘What on earth is that?’ she thought as well as she could, for she was lying in one corner of the room among chairs and various other articles of furniture. However, she got out of it as quickly as she could, and ran on deck, or at least she tried to run, for the vessel was rolling and pitching, and the shrieking continued to resound from above. At last she did reach the deck; but she rather wished she had stopped below, for the wind was so biting it nearly bit her hair off, and this same wind behaved so badly to the ropes of the vessel that they shrieked in their pain as the blast cut past them, causing the strange sounds that the Princess had heard below.
It was nearly as difficult to stand on deck as it had been in the cabin, and the spray that came dashing over the boat made it very difficult to see, for it got into her eyes and half blinded her.
However, she managed to steady herself by holding on to a rope, and in a few minutes she was able to see Wopole standing in the bow of the boat, and looking over the side. So she went towards him as well as she could, for the wind and spray came from over the bows. Nevertheless, she reached him somehow. He was leaning quietly against the bulwarks over the hawser-hole watching the straining cable, just as calm as if there were nothing in particular depending on whether the anchor held or not.
As soon as she could find her breath she touched him on the shoulder and shouted in his ear as loud as she could:
‘Will the rope break?’ But it was no use trying to out-roar the tempest – at least for her.
When Wopole felt something touch him on the shoulder he looked round.
‘Oh, it’s you, is it?’ she heard him cry. But the wind was still too high for her to answer. She only nodded; but she might have spared herself the trouble.
Presently, after she had waited some minutes in silence, the wind fell, almost as suddenly as it had risen.
‘Thank goodness! It’s over now,’ she said, and it was so quiet that Wopole overheard her easily.
‘Don’t hulloa till you’re out of the wood,’ he said. ‘Look there!’
The Princess did look, and she saw that the horizon was hidden by masses of white foam that rose and fell as if the sea were one great cauldron full of boiling water.
