Cæsar's Column: A Story of the Twentieth Century

dear Estella," I said, "I have been amusing my leisure bycomposing a fairy story."

  "Indeed," she said, smiling, "a strange occupation for aphilanthropist and philosopher, to say nothing of a poet."

  "It is, perhaps," I replied, in the same playful vein, "the poeticalportion of my nature that has set me at this work. But I cannotsatisfy myself as to the denouement of my story, and I desire youraid and counsel."

  "I am all attention," she replied; "proceed with your story;--butfirst, wait a moment. I will get some of my work; and then I canlisten to you without feeling that I am wasting precious time."

  "Otherwise you would feel," I said, "that your time was wastedlistening to me?"

  "No," she said, laughing, "but in listening to a fairy tale." Shereturned in a few moments, and we took seats, I covering my realfeeling by an assumed gayety, and Estella listening attentively, withher eyes on her work.

  "You must know," I commenced, "that my tale is entitled:

  THE STORY OF PRINCESS CHARMING AND THE KNIGHT WEAKHART.

  'Once upon a time'--you know all fairy stories are dated from thateventful period of the world's history--there was a beautifulprincess, who lived in a grand palace, and her name was PrincessCharming; and she was every way worthy of her name; for she was asgood as she was handsome. But a dreadful dwarf, who had slain manypeople in that country, slew her father and mother, and robbed thepoor Princess of her fine house, and carried her off and deliveredher to an old fairy, called Cathel, a wicked and bad old sorceressand witch, who sat all day surrounded by black cats, weavingincantations and making charms, which she sold to all who would buyof her. Now, among the customers of Cathel was a monstrous and bloodygiant, whose castle was not far away. He was called The Ogre Redgore.He was a cannibal, and bought charms from Cathel, with which toentice young men, women and children into his dreadful den, which wassurrounded with heaps of bones of those he had killed and devoured.Now it chanced that when he came one day to buy his charms fromCathel, the old witch asked him if he did not desire to purchase abeautiful young girl. He said he wanted one of that very kind for abanquet he was about to give to some of his fellow giants. Andthereupon the wicked old woman showed him the fair and lovelyPrincess Charming, sitting weeping, among the ashes, on the kitchenhearth. He felt her flesh, to see if she was young and tender enoughfor the feast, and, being satisfied upon this important point, he andthe old witch were not long in coming to terms as to the price to bepaid for her.

  "And so he started home, soon after, with poor Princess Charmingunder his arm; she, the while, filling the air with her piteouslamentations and appeals for help.

  "And now it so chanced that a wandering knight, called Weakhart, froma far country, came riding along the road that very day, clad insteel armor, and with his lance in rest. And when he heard thepitiful cries of Princess Charming, and beheld her beauty, he drovethe spurs into his steed and dashed forward, and would have driventhe lance clear through the giant's body; but that worthy saw himcoming, and, dropping the Princess and springing aside with greatagility, he caught the lance and broke it in many pieces. Then theydrew their swords and a terrible battle ensued; and Princess Charmingknelt down, the while, by the roadside, and prayed long and earnestlyfor the success of the good Knight Weakhart. But if he was weak ofheart he was strong of arm, and at last, with a tremendous blow, hecut the ugly ogre's head off; and the latter fell dead on the road,as an ogre naturally will when his head is taken off. And then theKnight Weakhart was more afraid of being alone with the Princess thanhe had been of the giant. But she rose up, and dried her tears, andthanked him. And then the Princess and the Knight were in a gravequandary; for, of course, she could not go back to the den of thatwicked witch, Cathel, and she had nowhere else to go. And soWeakhart, with many tremblings, asked her to go with him to a cavernin the woods, where he had taken shelter."

  Here I glanced at Estella, and her face was pale and quiet, and thesmile was all gone from it. I continued:

  "There was nothing else for it; and so the poor Princess mounted infront of the Knight on his horse, and they rode off together to thecavern. And there Weakhart fitted up a little room for the Princess,and made her a bed of the fragrant boughs of trees, and placed a doorto the room and showed her how she could fasten it, and brought herflowers. And every day he hunted the deer and the bear, and made afire and cooked for her; and he treated her with as much courtesy andrespect as if she had been a queen sitting upon her throne.

  "And, oh! how that poor Knight Weakhart loved the Princess! He lovedthe very ground she walked on; and he loved all nature because itsurrounded her; and he loved the very sun, moon and stars becausethey shone down upon her.

  Nay, not only did he love her; he worshiped her, as the devoteeworships his god. She was all the constellations of the sky to him.Universal nature had nothing that could displace her for a momentfrom his heart. Night and day she filled his soul with her ineffableimage; and the birds and the breeze and the whispering trees seemedto be all forever speaking her beloved name in his ears.

  "But what could he do? The Princess was poor, helpless, dependentupon him. Would it not be unmanly of him to take advantage of hermisfortunes and frighten or coax her into becoming his wife? Mightshe not mistake gratitude for love? Could she make a free choiceunless she was herself free?

  "And so the poor Knight Weakhart stilled the beating of thefluttering bird in his bosom, and hushed down his emotions, andcontinued to hunt and cook and wait upon his beloved Princess.

  "At last, one day, the Knight Weakhart heard dreadful news. A peoplecalled Vandals, rude and cruel barbarians, bloodthirsty and warlike,conquerors of nations, had arrived in immense numbers near theborders of that country, and in a few days they would pour over andravage the land, killing the men and making slaves of the women. Hemust fly. One man could do nothing against such numbers. He could notleave the Princess Charming behind him: she would fall into the handsof the savages. He knew that she had trust enough in him to go to theends of the earth with him. He had a sort of dim belief that sheloved him. What should he do? Should he overcome his scruples and askthe lady of his love to wed him; or should he invite her to accompanyhim as his friend and sister? Would it not be mean and contemptibleto take advantage of her distresses, her solitude and the very dangerthat threatened the land, and thus coerce her into a marriage whichmight be distasteful to her?

  "Now, my dear Estella," I said, with a beating heart, "thus far haveI progressed with my fairy tale; but I know not how to conclude it.Can you give me any advice?"

  She looked up at me, blushing, but an arch smile played about herlips.

  "Let us play out the play," she said. "I will represent the PrincessCharming--a very poor representative, I fear;--and you will take thepart of the good Knight Weakhart--a part which I imagine you areespecially well fitted to play. Now," she said, "you know the oldrhyme:

  "'He either fears his fate too much, Or his desert is small, Who fears to put it to the touch, And win or lose it all.'

  "Therefore, I would advise that you--acting the Knight Weakhart, ofcourse--take the bolder course and propose to Princess Charming tomarry you."

  I began to see through her device, and fell on my knees, and graspedthe Princess's hand, and poured forth my love in rapturous words,that I shall not pretend to repeat, even to you, my dear brother.When I had paused, for want of breath, Estella said:

  "Now I must, I suppose, act the part of Princess Charming, and givethe foolish Knight his answer."

  And here she put her arms around my neck--I still kneeling--andkissed me on the forehead, and said, laughing, but her eyesglistening with emotion:

  "You silly Knight Weakhart, you are well named; and really I preferthe ogre whose head you were cruel enough to cut off, or even one ofthose hideous Vandals you are trying to frighten me with. What kindof a weak heart or weak head have you, not to know that a woman nevershrinks from dependence upon the man she loves, any more than the ivyregrets that it is clinging to the
oak and cannot stand alone? A truewoman must weave the tendrils of her being around some loved object;she cannot stand alone any more than the ivy. And so--speaking, ofcourse, for the Princess Charming!--I accept the heart and hand ofthe poor, weak-headed Knight Weakhart."

  I folded her in my arms and began to give her all the kisses I hadbeen hoarding up for her since the first day we met. But she put upher hand playfully, and pushed me back, and cried out:

  "Stop! Stop! the play is over!'

  "No! no!" I replied, "it is only beginning; and it will last as longas we two live."

  Her face grew serious in an instant, and she whispered:

  "Yes, until death doth us part."

  CHAPTER XXIII.