“You find us,” said his Majesty, “just about to resign our sceptre into younger and more vigorous hands; in fact, we think we are growing too old to reign, and mean to abdicate in favour of our dear daughter, who will reign in our stead.”
“Before you do any such thing,” said Taboret, “just let me have a little private conversation with you;” and she led the King into a corner, much to his surprise and alarm.
In about half an hour he returned to the council, looking very white, and with a dreadful expression on his face, whilst he held a handkerchief to his eyes.
“My lords,” he faltered, “pray pardon our apparently extraordinary behaviour. We have just received a dreadful blow; we hear on authority, which we cannot doubt, that our dear, dear daughter”—here sobs choked his voice, and he was almost unable to proceed—“is—is—in fact, not our daughter at all, and only a sham.” Here the King sank back in his chair, overpowered with grief, and the fairy Taboret, stepping to the front, told the courtiers the whole story; how she had stolen the real Princess, because she feared they were spoiling her, and how she had placed a toy Princess in her place. The courtiers looked from one to another in surprise, but it was evident they did not believe her.
“The Princess is a truly charming young lady,” said the Prime Minister.
“Has your Majesty any reason to complain of her Royal Highness’s conduct?” asked the old Chancellor.
“None whatever,” sobbed the King; “she was ever an excellent daughter.”
“Then I don’t see,” said the Chancellor, “what reason your Majesty can have for paying any attention to what this—this person says.”
“If you don’t believe me, you old idiots,” cried Taboret, “call the Princess here, and I’ll soon prove my words.”
“By all means,” cried they.
So the King commanded that her Royal Highness should be summoned.
In a few minutes she came, attended by her ladies. She said nothing, but then she never did speak till she was spoken to. So she entered, and stood in the middle of the room silently.
“We have desired that your presence be requested,” the King was beginning, but Taboret without any ceremony advanced towards her, and struck her lightly on the head with her wand. In a moment the head rolled on the floor, leaving the body standing motionless as before, and showing that it was but an empty shell. “Just so,” said the head, as it rolled towards the King, and he and the courtiers nearly swooned with fear.
When they were a little recovered, the King spoke again. “The fairy tells me,” he said, “that there is somewhere a real Princess whom she wishes us to adopt as our daughter. And in the meantime let her Royal Highness be carefully placed in a cupboard, and a general mourning be proclaimed for this dire event.”
So saying he glanced tenderly at the body and head, and turned weeping away.
So it was settled that Taboret was to fetch Princess Ursula, and the King and council were to be assembled to meet her.
That evening the fairy flew to Mark’s cottage, and told them the whole truth about Ursula, and that they must part from her.
Loud were their lamentations, and great their grief, when they heard she must leave them. Poor Ursula herself sobbed bitterly.
“Never mind,” she cried after a time, “if I am really a great Princess, I will have you all to live with me. I am sure the King, my father, will wish it, when he hears how good you have all been to me.”
On the appointed day, Taboret came for Ursula in a grand coach and four, and drove her away to the court. It was a long, long drive; and she stopped on the way and had the Princess dressed in a splendid white silk dress trimmed with gold, and put pearls round her neck and in her hair, that she might appear properly at court.
The King and all the council were assembled with great pomp, to greet their new Princess, and all looked grave and anxious. At last the door opened, and Taboret appeared, leading the young girl by the hand.
“That is your father!” said she to Ursula, pointing to the King; and on this, Ursula, needing no other bidding, ran at once to him, and putting her arms round his neck, gave him a sounding kiss.
His Majesty almost swooned, and all the courtiers shut their eyes and shivered.
“This is really!” said one.
“This is truly!” said another.
“What have I done?” cried Ursula, looking from one to another, and seeing that something was wrong, but not knowing what. “Have I kissed the wrong person?” On hearing which everyone groaned.
“Come now,” cried Taboret, “if you don’t like her, I shall take her away to those who do. I’ll give you a week, and then I’ll come back and see how you’re treating her. She’s a great deal too good for any of you.” So saying she flew away: on her wand, leaving Ursula to get on with her new friends as best she might. But Ursula could not get on with them at all, as she soon began to see.
If she spoke or moved they looked shocked, and at last she was so frightened and troubled by them that she burst into tears, at which they were more shocked still.
“This is indeed a change after our sweet Princess,” said one lady to another.
“Yes, indeed,” was the answer, “when one remembers how even after her head was struck off she behaved so beautifully, and only said, ‘Just so.’ ”
And all the ladies disliked poor Ursula, and soon showed her their dislike. Before the end of the week, when Taboret was to return, she had grown quite thin and pale, and seemed afraid of speaking above a whisper.
“Why, what is wrong?” cried Taboret, when
