Betsinda wandered on and on, till she passed through the town

  gates, and so on the great Crim Tartary road, the very way on

  which Giglio too was going. 'Ah!' thought she, as the diligence

  passed her, of which the conductor was blowing a delightful tune

  on his horn, 'how I should like to be on that coach!' But the

  coach and the jingling horses were very soon gone. She little

  knew who was in it, though very likely she was thinking of him

  all the time.

  Then came an empty cart, returning from market; and the driver

  being a kind man, and seeing such a very pretty girl trudging

  along the road with bare feet, most good-naturedly gave her a

  seat. He said he lived on the confines of the forest, where his

  old father was a woodman, and, if she liked, he would take her so

  far on her road. All roads were the same to little Betsinda, so

  she very thankfully took this one.

  And the carter put a cloth round her bare feet, and gave her some

  bread and cold bacon, and was very kind to her. For all that she

  was very cold and melancholy. When after travelling on and on,

  evening came, and all the black pines were bending with snow, and

  there, at last, was the comfortable light beaming in the

  woodman's windows; and so they arrived, and went into his

  cottage. He was an old man, and had a number of children, who

  were just at supper, with nice hot bread-and-milk, when their

  elder brother arrived with the cart. And they jumped and clapped

  their hands; for they were good children; and he had brought them

  toys from the town. And when they saw the pretty stranger, they

  ran to her, and brought her to the fire, and rubbed her poor

  little feet, and brought her bread and milk.

  'Look, father!' they said to the old woodman, 'look at this poor

  girl, and see what pretty cold feet she has. They are as white

  as our milk! And look and see what an odd cloak she has, just

  like the bit of velvet that hangs up in our cupboard, and which

  you found that day the little cubs were killed by King Padella,

  in the forest! And look, why, bless us all! she has got round

  her neck just such another little shoe as that you brought home,

  and have shown us so often--a little blue velvet shoe!'

  'What,' said the old woodman, 'what is all this about a shoe and

  a cloak?'

  And Betsinda explained that she had been left, when quite a

  little child, at the town with this cloak and this shoe. And the

  persons who had taken care of her had--had been angry with her,

  for no fault, she hoped, of her own. And they had sent her away

  with her old clothes--and here, in fact, she was. She remembered

  having been in a forest--and perhaps it was a dream--it was so

  very odd and strange--having lived in a cave with lions there;

  and, before that, having lived in a very, very fine house, as

  fine as the King's, in the town.

  When the woodman heard this, he was so astonished, it was quite

  curious to see how astonished he was. He went to his cupboard,

  and took out of a stocking a five-shilling piece of King

  Cavolfiore, and vowed it was exactly like the young woman. And

  then he produced the shoe and piece of velvet which he had kept

  so long, and compared them with the things which Betsinda wore.

  In Betsinda's little shoe was written, 'Hopkins, maker to the

  Royal Family'; so in the other shoe was written, 'Hopkins, maker

  to the Royal Family.' In the inside of Betsinda's piece of cloak

  was embroidered, 'PRIN ROSAL'; in the other piece of cloak was

  embroidered 'CESS BA. NO. 246.' So that when put together you

  read, 'PRINCESS ROSALBA. NO. 246.'

  On seeing this, the dear old woodman fell down on his knee,

  saying, 'O my Princess, O my gracious royal lady, O my rightful

  Queen of Crim Tartary,--I hail thee--I acknowledge thee--I do

  thee homage!' And in token of his fealty, he rubbed his

  venerable nose three times on the ground, and put the Princess's

  foot on his head.

  'Why,' said she, 'my good woodman, you must be a nobleman of my

  royal father's Court!' For in her lowly retreat, and under the

  name of Betsinda, HER MAJESTY, ROSALBA, Queen of Crim Tartary,

  had read of the customs of all foreign courts and nations.

  'Marry, indeed, am I, my gracious liege--the poor Lord Spinachi

  once--the humble woodman these fifteen years syne. Ever since

  the tyrant Padella (may ruin overtake the treacherous knave!)

  dismissed me from my post of First Lord.'

  'First Lord of the Toothpick and Joint Keeper of the Snuffbox? I

  mind me! Thou heldest these posts under our royal Sire. They

  are restored to thee, Lord Spinachi! I make thee knight of the

  second class of our Order of the Pumpkin (the first class being

  reserved for crowned heads alone). Rise, Marquis of Spinachi!'

  And with indescribable majesty, the Queen, who had no sword

  handy, waved the pewter spoon with which she had been taking her

  bread-and-milk, over the bald head of the old nobleman, whose

  tears absolutely made a puddle on the ground, and whose dear

  children went to bed that night Lords and Ladies Bartolomeo,

  Ubaldo, Catarina, and Ottavia degli Spinachi!

  The acquaintance HER MAJESTY showed with the history, and noble

  families of her empire, was wonderful. 'The House of Broccoli

  should remain faithful to us,' she said; 'they were ever welcome

  at our Court. Have the Articiocchi, as was their wont, turned to

  the Rising Sun? The family of Sauerkraut must sure be with

  us--they were ever welcome in the halls of King Cavolfiore.' And

  so she went on enumerating quite a list of the nobility and

  gentry of Crim Tartary, so admirably had Her Majesty profited by

  her studies while in exile.

  The old Marquis of Spinachi said he could answer for them all;

  that the whole country groaned under Padella's tyranny, and

  longed to return to its rightful sovereign; and late as it was,

  he sent his children, who knew the forest well, to summon this

  nobleman and that; and when his eldest son, who had been rubbing

  the horse down and giving him his supper, came into the house for

  his own, the Marquis told him to put his boots on, and a saddle

  on the mare, and ride hither and thither to such and such people.

  When the young man heard who his companion in the cart had been,

  he too knelt down and put her royal foot on his head; he too

  bedewed the ground with his tears; he was frantically in love

  with her, as everybody now was who saw her: so were the young

  Lords Bartolomeo and Ubaldo, who punched each other's little

  heads out of jealousy; and so, when they came from east and west

  at the summons of the Marquis degli Spinachi, were the Crim

  Tartar Lords who still remained faithful to the House of

  Cavolfiore. They were such very old gentlemen for the most part

  that Her Majesty never suspected their absurd passion, and went

  among them quite unaware of the havoc her beauty was causing,

  until an old blind Lord who had joined her party told her what

  the tr
uth was; after which, for fear of making the people too

  much in love with her, she always wore a veil. She went about

  privately, from one nobleman's castle to another; and they

  visited among themselves again, and had meetings, and composed

  proclamations and counterproclamations, and distributed all the

  best places of the kingdom amongst one another, and selected who

  of the opposition party should be executed when the Queen came to

  her own. And so in about a year they were ready to move.

  The party of Fidelity was in truth composed of very feeble old

  fogies for the most part; they went about the country waving

  their old swords and flags, and calling 'God save the Queen!' and

  King Padella happening to be absent upon an invasion, they had

  their own way for a little, and to be sure the people were very

  enthusiastic whenever they saw the Queen; otherwise the vulgar

  took matters very quietly, for they said, as far as they could

  recollect, they were pretty well as much taxed in Cavolfiore's

  time, as now in Padella's.

  XIII. HOW QUEEN ROSALBA CAME TO THE CASTLE OF THE BOLD COUNT

  HOGGINARMO

  Her Majesty, having indeed nothing else to give, made all her

  followers Knights of the Pumpkin, and Marquises, Earls, and

  Baronets; and they had a little court for her, and made her a

  little crown of gilt paper, and a robe of cotton velvet; and they

  quarrelled about the places to be given away in her court, and

  about rank and precedence and dignities;--you can't think how

  they quarrelled! The poor Queen was very tired of her honours

  before she had had them a month, and I dare say sighed sometimes

  even to be a lady's-maid again. But we must all do our duty in

  our respective stations, so the Queen resigned herself to perform

  hers.

  We have said how it happened that none of the Usurper's troops

  came out to oppose this Army of Fidelity: it pottered along as

  nimbly as the gout of the principal commanders allowed: it

  consisted of twice as many officers as soldiers: and at length

  passed near the estates of one of the most powerful noblemen of

  the country, who had not declared for the Queen, but of whom her

  party had hopes, as he was always quarrelling with King Padella.

  When they came close to his park gates, this nobleman sent to say

  he would wait upon Her Majesty: he was a most powerful warrior,

  and his name was Count Hogginarmo, whose helmet it took two

  strong negroes to carry. He knelt down before her and said,

  'Madam and liege lady! it becomes the great nobles of the Crimean

  realm to show every outward sign of respect to the wearer of the

  Crown, whoever that may be. We testify to our own nobility in

  acknowledging yours. The bold Hogginarmo bends the knee to the

  first of the aristocracy of his country.'

  Rosalba said, 'The bold Count of Hogginarmo was uncommonly kind.'

  But she felt afraid of him, even while he was kneeling, and his

  eyes scowled at her from between his whiskers, which grew up to

  them.

  'The first Count of the Empire, madam,' he went on, 'salutes the

  Sovereign. The Prince addresses himself to the not more noble

  lady! Madam, my hand is free, and I offer it, and my heart and

  my sword to your service! My three wives lie buried in my

  ancestral vaults. The third perished but a year since; and this

  heart pines for a consort! Deign to be mine, and I swear to

  bring to your bridal table the head of King Padella, the eyes and

  nose of his son Prince Bulbo, the right hand and ears of the

  usurping Sovereign of Paflagonia, which country shall thenceforth

  be an appanage to your--to OUR Crown! Say yes; Hogginarmo is not

  accustomed to be denied. Indeed I cannot contemplate the

  possibility of a refusal: for frightful will be the result;

  dreadful the murders; furious the devastations; horrible the

  tyranny; tremendous the tortures, misery, taxation, which the

  people of this realm will endure, if Hogginarmo's wrath be

  aroused! I see consent in Your Majesty's lovely eyes-- their

  glances fill my soul with rapture!'

  'Oh, sir!' Rosalba said, withdrawing her hand in great fright.

  'Your Lordship is exceedingly kind; but I am sorry to tell you

  that I have a prior attachment to a young gentleman by the name

  of--Prince Giglio--and never--never can marry any one but him.'

  Who can describe Hogginarmo's wrath at this remark? Rising up

  from the ground, he ground his teeth so that fire flashed out

  of his mouth, from which at the same time issued remarks and

  language, so LOUD, VIOLENT, AND IMPROPER, that this pen shall

  never repeat them! 'R-r-r-r-rr--Rejected! Fiends and

  perdition! The bold Hogginarmo rejected! All the world shall

  hear of my rage; and you, madam, you above all shall rue it!'

  And kicking the two negroes before him, he rushed away, his

  whiskers streaming in the wind.

  Her Majesty's Privy Council was in a dreadful panic when they

  saw Hogginarmo issue from the royal presence in such a towering

  rage, making footballs of the poor negroes--a panic which the

  events justified. They marched off from Hogginarmo's park very

  crestfallen; and in another halfhour they were met by that

  rapacious chieftain with a few of his followers, who cut,

  slashed, charged, whacked, banged, and pommelled amongst them,

  took the Queen prisoner, and drove the Army of Fidelity to I

  don't know where.

  Poor Queen! Hogginarmo, her conqueror, would not condescend to

  see her. 'Get a horse-van!' he said to his grooms, 'clap the

  hussy into it, and send her, with my compliments, to His

  Majesty King Padella.'

  Along with his lovely prisoner, Hogginarmo sent a letter full

  of servile compliments and loathsome flatteries to King

  Padella, for whose life, and that of his royal family, the

  HYPOCRITICAL HUMBUG pretended to offer the most fulsome

  prayers. And Hogginarmo promised speedily to pay his humble

  homage at his august master's throne, of which he begged leave

  to be counted the most loyal and constant defender. Such a

  WARY old BIRD as King Padella was not to be caught by Master

  Hogginarmo's CHAFF and we shall hear presently how the tyrant

  treated his upstart vassal. No, no; depend on's, two such

  rogues do not trust one another.

  So this poor Queen was laid in the straw like Margery Daw, and

  driven along in the dark ever so many miles to the Court, where

  King Padella had now arrived, having vanquished all his

  enemies, murdered most of them, and brought some of the richest

  into captivity with him for the purpose of torturing them and

  finding out where they had hidden their money.

  Rosalba heard their shrieks and groans in the dungeon in which

  she was thrust; a most awful black hole, full of bats, rats,

  mice, toads, frogs, mosquitoes, bugs, fleas, serpents, and

  every kind of horror. No light was let into it, otherwise the

  gaolers might have seen her and fallen in love with her, as an

  owl that lived up in the roof of the tow
er did, and a cat, you

  know, who can see in the dark, and having set its green eyes on

  Rosalba, never would be got to go back to the turnkey's wife to

  whom it belonged. And the toads in the dungeon came and kissed

  her feet, and the vipers wound round her neck and arms, and

  never hurt her, so charming was this poor Princess in the midst

  of her misfortunes.

  At last, after she had been kept in this place EVER SO LONG,

  the door of the dungeon opened, and the terrible KING PADELLA

  came in.

  But what he said and did must be reserved for another chapter,

  as we must now back to Prince Giglio.

  XIV. WHAT BECAME OF GIGLIO

  The idea of marrying such an old creature as Gruffanuff

  frightened Prince Giglio so, that he ran up to his room, packed

  his trunks, fetched in a couple of porters, and was off to the

  diligence office in a twinkling.

  It was well that he was so quick in his operations, did not

  dawdle over his luggage, and took the early coach, for as soon

  as the mistake about Prince Bulbo was found out, that cruel

  Glumboso sent up a couple of policemen to Prince Giglio's room,

  with orders that he should be carried to Newgate, and his head

  taken off before twelve o'clock. But the coach was out of the

  Paflagonian dominions before two o'clock; and I dare say the

  express that was sent after Prince Giglio did not ride very

  quick, for many people in Paflagonia had a regard for Giglio,

  as the son of their old sovereign; a Prince who, with all his

  weaknesses, was very much better than his brother, the

  usurping, lazy, careless, passionate, tyrannical, reigning

  monarch. That Prince busied himself with the balls, fetes,

  masquerades, hunting-parties, and so forth, which he thought

  proper to give on occasion of his daughter's marriage to Prince

  Bulbo; and let us trust was not sorry in his own heart that his

  brother's son had escaped the scaffold.

  It was very cold weather, and the snow was on the ground, and

  Giglio, who gave his name as simple Mr. Giles, was very glad to

  get a comfortable place in the coupe of the diligence, where he

  sat with the conductor and another gentleman. At the first

  stage from Blombodinga, as they stopped to change horses, there

  came up to the diligence a very ordinary, vulgar-looking woman,

  with a bag under her arm, who asked for a place. All the

  inside places were taken, and the young woman was informed that

  if she wished to travel, she must go upon the roof; and the

  passenger inside with Giglio (a rude person, I should think),

  put his head out of the window, and said, 'Nice weather for

  travelling outside! I wish you a pleasant journey, my dear.'

  The poor woman coughed very much, and Giglio pitied her. 'I

  will give up my place to her,' says he, 'rather than she should

  travel in the cold air with that horrid cough.' On which the

  vulgar traveller said, 'YOU'D keep her warm, I am sure, if it's

  a MUFF she wants.' On which Giglio pulled his nose, boxed his

  ears, hit him in the eye, and gave this vulgar person a warning

  never to call him MUFF again.

  Then he sprang up gaily on to the roof of the diligence, and

  made himself very comfortable in the straw.

  The vulgar traveller got down only at the next station, and

  Giglio took his place again, and talked to the person next to

  him. She appeared to be a most agreeable, well-informed, and

  entertaining female. They travelled together till night, and

  she gave Giglio all sorts of things out of the bag which she

  carried, and which indeed seemed to contain the most wonderful

  collection of articles. He was thirsty--out there came a pint

  bottle of Bass's pale ale, and a silver mug! Hungry--she took

  out a cold fowl, some slices of ham, bread, salt, and a most

  delicious piece of cold plum-pudding, and a little glass of

  brandy afterwards.

  As they travelled, this plain-looking, queer woman talked to

  Giglio on a variety of subjects, in which the poor Prince

  showed his ignorance as much as she did her capacity. He

  owned, with many blushes, how ignorant he was; on which the

  lady said, 'My dear Gigl-- my good Mr. Giles, you are a young

  man, and have plenty of time before you. You have nothing to

  do but to improve yourself. Who knows but that you may find

  use for your knowledge some day? When--when you may be wanted