And as for my being able to swallow her, I don’t know—I can’t say—I am a little dainty sometimes—at any rate, it is worth your while to try, I should think; for remember, to-morrow is the fourth day! Ho, ho!”
So saying, he went back into his cave; and the prince heard him sharpening his knife and cleaning his frying-pan in a way that froze his marrow.
The unhappy young man now gave himself up for lost, and went home to the palace in the worst possible spirits. “I shall go a very different road this time to-morrow,” thought he. However, he concealed his feelings as well as he could, not to distress his parents; for he was a dutiful son. All night he lay awake; and as soon as it was day he got up and went out to take a last walk in the country, and while away the time till the dreadful hour of noon. After walking some time, he came to a wretched, tumble-down old cottage; and looking in through the window (which was broken) he saw within an equally wretched and tumble-down old woman, dressed in rags, shivering with cold and lean with hunger.
“How now, Goody?” said he, walking into her miserable room through the broken door. “You don’t seem over-comfortable here.”
“Comfortable?” said she, in a cracked and wheezy voice, “I haven’t known what that word means for these twenty years. I am old, and poor, and sick; I have got the ague, and the rheumatics, and the toothache, and the earache, and oh, such dreadful corns! I have nobody in the world to care for me; and I heartily wish I was dead, for I don’t know what good I am here.”
When the prince heard the old woman talk in this way, the wicked thought which the ogre had put into his head came back to him, and began to tempt him. “Surely,” he said to himself, “there can be no great harm in taking this poor wretched creature to the giant. Perhaps he won’t like her, and then all will be well; but even if he does, of what value is her life, compared with the chance of saving mine? I am young, happy, beloved; my death will plunge my parents, my family, the whole nation into grief; and then what plans I had for doing good! How prosperous the people would have been under my reign! Surely I ought not to allow a weak scruple to deprive the world of the immense advantages which depend on my life; and this old thing, if she has any right feeling, ought to be proud of such an opportunity of making herself useful. If she could do any good here, it would be different; but she says herself—”
He was interrupted in these thoughts by a tapping at the broken window; and looking up, he saw a pretty white bird that had flown in.
“What is this?” said he to the old woman.
“Oh,” said she, “it is a pigeon that I picked up with a broken leg when it was young. I brought it home, and nursed it; and now it comes to me every day for such crumbs as I can give it.”
The prince’s heart fairly smote him.
“I take this as a lesson,” he said within himself; “I see now that everybody is of some use in this world; and what right have I to take any one away from his place, and determine he will not be missed? This worthy old soul has been able to do a kindness to a creature more helpless than herself:—I have had my share of comforts, and now I will bear my misfortunes for myself like a man, and not steal the life from another in the hope of saving my own.” “I beg your pardon, ma’am, though you don’t know what for; and pray accept my purse, for which I am afraid I have not much further use.”
Then the prince left the cottage; and as it was now getting near twelve o’clock, walked boldly towards the mountain. Meanwhile the ogre was expecting him very eagerly. The fact was, as perhaps you have guessed, that an old woman was a treat that he was particularly fond of; and he made sure that the prince would take the hint he had given him and provide one, to try and escape from being eaten up himself; for he was so mean and cruel an ogre that he had no idea that anybody could do a generous action, or sacrifice himself rather than be unjust. He had eaten very little breakfast, on purpose to have a good appetite for his luncheon; and there he sat, licking his lips, and watching the path by which the prince was to come; and you may fancy his rage and disappointment when he saw him coming.
“What!” he roared out, “no old woman? I must have one! Where is she? Bring her! Quick!”
“Sir,” said the prince, as bravely as he could, “I have brought you no old woman; but you see I have kept my word, and come back myself.”
“You!” cried the ogre. “You, indeed! What is a poor tender young thing like you, compared to a fine, tough, bony grandmother? Why haven’t you brought me one, you villain? What have you been about? Are you such a goose that you couldn’t find one ever since yesterday?”
“No,” said the prince. “I did find one; but I didn’t choose to bring her.” And then he told the ogre all he had seen at the cottage, and all he had thought, just as I have told it to you.
As he was telling his story, the giant got into such a fury that he could hardly contain himself.
“What!” he bellowed out, as soon as the prince had finished, “do you mean to tell me that you have been such a noodle, such a nincompoop, such a chicken-hearted baby, that when you had a chance of saving yourself at the expense of one poor old woman, you wouldn’t do it? Nonsense! I’ll not believe it! You must tell me some more likely story, for I can’t swallow that!”
No sooner had he uttered these words, than there came a loud clap of thunder, and the monster turned as white as a sheet; and then there came a second clap, and the monster’s knees began to tremble, and his teeth to chatter in his head; and then there came a third clap, and the roof of the cavern burst open, and the Lord Chief Baron of the Fairies came sailing in, seated on his great flying inkstand, drawn by twenty-four bats, with parchment wings, and traces of red tape.
“You wicked and nasty ogre,” said his lordship, in a stern and awful voice, “you have spoken your own sentence, and I have come to see it put in execution. You told the prince that you would give him leave to cut off your head if he could bring you anything that you could not swallow; you have just confessed that he has; and now your hour is come!”
