The Under Folk
"Cathay, darling," Mavis said again, and stopped, for no one could go on saying "darling" to anyone who looked at you as Cathay was looking.
She turned her eyes away as Cathay looked toward the Queen—looked, and went, to lean against the royal knee as though it had been her mother's.
"Dear little thing," said the Queen; "see, it's quite tame. I shall keep it for a pet. Nice little pet then!"
"You shan't keep her," cried Mavis, but again the Princess hushed her, and the Queen treated her cry with contemptuous indifference. Cathay snuggled against her new mistress.
"As for the rest of you," said the Queen, "it is evident from your manner that the draught of oblivion has not yet taken effect on you. So it is impossible for me to make presents of you to those prominent members of the nobility, who are wanting pets, as I should otherwise have done. We will try another draught tomorrow. In the meantime . . . the fetters, Jailer."
A tall sour-looking Under-man stepped forward. Hanging over his arm were scaly tails, which at first sight of the children's hearts leaped, for they hoped they were their own. But no sooner were the tails fitted on than they knew the bitter truth.
"Yes," said the Queen "they are false tails. You will not be able to take them off, and you can neither swim nor walk with them. You can, however, move along quite comfortably on the floor of the ocean. What's the matter?" she asked the Jailer.
"None of the tails will fit this prisoner, your Majesty," said the Jailer.
"I am a Princess of the reigning Mer House," said Freia, "and your false, degrading tails cannot cling to me."
"Oh, put them all in the lockup," said the King, "as sullen a lot of prisoners as ever I saw—what?"
143
