“My good Mistress Alina,” he said, “I must go out on important business, and perhaps may not return for many hours. Take care, therefore, that there is no noise on my floor, and that no one ventures to enter my room. A lady of rank, and—I may tell you—a very handsome princess, has taken refuge with me. Long ago, at the court of her father, I was her governor; therefore she has confidence in me, and I must and will protect her against all evil machinations. I tell you this, Mistress Alina, that you may show the lady the respect which belongs to her rank. With Mr. Tyss’s permission she will be waited on by you, for which attendance you will be royally rewarded, provided you are silent, and do not betray the princess’ abode to anyone.” So saying, Mr. Swammer had immediately gone off.
Peregrine now asked the old woman, if it did not seem strange that the lady, whom he could swear he met at the bookbinder’s, should be a princess, seeking refuge with old Swammer? But she protested that she believed his words rather than her own eyes, and was therefore of opinion that all which had happened at the bookbinder’s or in the chamber was either a magical illusion, or that the terror and anxiety of the flight had led the princess into so strange an adventure. For the rest, she would soon learn all from the lady herself.
“But,” objected Peregrine, in reality only to continue the conversation about the lady, “but where is the suspicion, the evil opinion, you had of her yesterday?”
“Ah,” replied the old woman simpering, “that is all over. One need only look at the dear creature to be convinced she is a princess, and as beautiful withal as ever was a princess. When Swammer had gone, I could not help looking to see what she was about, and peeping a little through the keyhole. There she lay stretched out upon the sofa, her angel head leaning upon her hand, so that the raven locks poured through the little white fingers, a beautiful sight! Her dress was of silver tissue, through which the bosom and the arms were visible, and on her feet she had golden slippers. One had fallen off, and showed that she wore no stockings, so that the naked foot peeped forth from under the garments. But, my good Mr. Tyss, she is no doubt still lying on the sofa, and if you will take the trouble of peeping through the keyhole—”
“What do you say?” interrupted Peregrine with vehemence, “What do you say? Shall I expose myself to her seductive sight, which might urge me into all manner of follies?”
“Courage, Peregrine! resist the temptation!” lisped a voice close beside him, which he instantly recognised for that of Master Flea.
The old woman laughed mysteriously, and after a few minutes’ silence said, “I will tell you the whole matter, as it seems to me. Whether the strange lady be a princess or not, thus much is certain, that she is of rank and rich, and that Mr. Swammer has taken up her cause warmly, and must have been long acquainted with her. And why did she run after you, dear Mr. Tyss? I say, because she is desperately in love with you, and love makes people blind and mad, and leads even princesses into the strangest and most inconsiderate follies. A gypsy prophesied to your late mother that you would one day be happy in a marriage when you least expected it. Now it is coming true.”
And with this the old woman began again describing how beautiful the lady looked. It may be easily supposed that Peregrine felt overwhelmed. At last he broke out with, “Silence, I pray you, of such things. The lady in love with me! How silly! how absurd!”
“Umph!” said the old woman. “If that were not the case she would not have sighed so piteously, she would not have exclaimed so lamentably, ‘no, my dear Peregrine, my sweet friend, you will not, you cannot be cruel to me. I shall see you again, and enjoy all the happiness of heaven.’ And our old Mr. Swammer! she has quite changed him. Did I ever use to get anything of him but a paltry sixpence for a Christmas box? And now he gave me this morning a crown, with such a kind look—no common thing with him—as a douceur beforehand for my services to the lady. There’s something in it all. I’ll lay you anything that in the end Mr. Swammer is her ambassador to you.”
And again the old woman began to speak of the grace and loveliness of the lady with an animation that sounded strange enough in the mouth of a withered creature like herself, till Peregrine jumped up all fire and fury, and cried out like a madman, “Be it as it will—down, down to the keyhole!” In vain he was warned by Master Flea, who sat in the neckcloth of the enamoured Peregrine, and had hid himself in a fold. Peregrine did not hear his voice, and Master Flea learned what he ought to have known long before: namely, that something may be done with
