The White Mouse.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLIX, Issue 4, 22 January 1913, Page 57

The White Mouse.

A. Fairy) Story Translated from the French

T HERE was once a villainous King of France, named Ixiuis ■the Eleventh. Generally the superstitious and sickly old King reigned unseen behind the walls of Ulis castle; but towards the middle of the year 1483 he went on a pilgrimage, accompanied by his executioner, hiS physician, and his priest. This King had many memories which troubled his conscience, and he repented of many of his cruel deeds. He repented, but he did not atone, and at the very time when, he was making his pilgrimage one of the innocent sons of a duke who had rebelled against him was languishing in a dungeon at Plessis-les-Tours. A most wretched dwelling-place was that castle: its vestibules dark with priests, its courtyards -glittering with soldiers, its chapels ever -ablaze with candles, gave to it the aspects both of a citadel and a convent. People talked in whispers, and walked on tip-toe in its great halls; captives by hundreds lay hidden from the world in its vaults. And it was in this castle that, idle, though with an adventurous spirit, the Dauphin Charles, then in his twelfth year, was being reared. (The King’s son in France was called the Dauphin.) Poor King’s son! He sought in vain

to rest his eyes from the horrors surrounding him, Ibut examples of his father’s cruelty ■were all about him. One day, however, his looks and gestures ibetrayed less weariness than usual.

The noonday bell had already been rung, and his morning meal, consisting in accordance with his orders, of light pastry and sweetmeats, stood untouched on a table, 'which the young Prince rapped impatiently. Every now and then he rose from his seat, panting with hope, and called: —

“Blanchette! Blanchette! Why don’t you come? The breakfast is melting in the sun, and if you don't soon come the flies will eat up your share!” And as no answer came to his appeal, the poor Prince continued to tap the floor with his feet and become more an I more uneasy. Suddenly a slight sound in the tapestry made him start; he turn ed his head, uttered a cry. ami sank back on his chair, filled with joy, and murmuring a sigh of immense relief: — .‘•At last!”

•No doubt you will imagine that th? ‘•Blanchette*’ so much desired was some noble lady, a sister or cousin of the young Prince. She was nothing of the sort. Blanchette was simply -a little white mouse, as her name indicated - so lively that, on seeing her run across the

floor, she might have been mistaken for a flirting sunbeam. Charles caressed his pretty visitor, gazing at her with delight while she nibbled a (biscuit in his hand, but then, remembering that he owed it to his dig nity to scold her a bit, he e*aid to her in a pleasantly grave tone: —

“Now, Miss, will you tell me what you think 1 ought to say to such con duct? Here, I treat you like a duchess; yet every evening, ungrateful that you are, vou leave me to nice about the fields like a mere vagabond mouse! Where do you go in this way, heedless of your own danger and of my anxiety? Where do you go?—tell me; I insist on know

Pressing though the question was, poor Blanchette, us may l>e imagined, returned no answer to it ; but, with a look of sadness, fixing her intelligent eyes on those of the scolding lad. she turned over the pages of the book of the Gos* pels, which was lying upon the table,

and placed her rosy paws upon these words: "Visit the prisoners.”

Charles -was surprised and confused, as happens to presumptuous persons when they receive a lesson nt the moment when they think they are giving one. .For more than onee he had heard tell of strange things concerning the inhabitants of the underground vaults in tail castle, and more than once he bad medi tated making a pious pilgrimage to the prison of the yonng captive who hsn «!•

ready been mentioned. He resolved to do this that very evening.

A few minutes after the curfew had sounded, he slipped from his tower, and, followed by a young valet carrying a basket containing bread, wine, and fruits, he proceeded into one of the interior courtyards of the castle.

One of the company of the Scotch guard, pacing in the moonlight along the walls, challenged him in a hoarse and threatening voice:— “Who goes there?'* “Charles Dauphin.” “He cannot pass.” But Charles approached the officer tn iihe watch and whispered a few' words in his ear. “If it is so, go on. Prince,” replied the soldier. “Go on, and God protect you, for if you are discovered 1 shall be hung!” Persisting in his purpose, the young Dauphin applied the same means successfully with the keeper of the prison, the magic words which he employed being simply these: “The king is very ill.” He had before tried the power of this formula, which reminded the servants of old Louis XI. —soldiers, courtiers, gaolers or valets—that the boyish pout of a Dauphin might suddenly change into the terxible anger of a King.

The Dauphin and the page, guided by the gaoler, ventured, not without some little hesitation, into a damp and dismal vault and down a spiral flight of stairs, every slimy step endangering their foothold. All three proceeded by the fitful light of a torch, now’ beaten by. the blind wings of a startled l>at, now nearly extinguished by water dropping from the roof. At length a sound,-

vague at first, but growing more and more distinct —a sound of sighs and moans —told them that they had reached their journey's end. : ; Locked in an iron cage, fixed to the wall, lay the unfortunate young duke." He -was only seventeen years of age; but he was so pale and thin that be appeared even younger.

To open a conversation with the prisoner, the Dauphhi searched for tender words, but found only tears. Nemours, for that was the captive's name, understood this silent greeting, and responded to it by a smile <>f gratitude; then both conversed through the iron bars. While they were conversing an inter-

ruption occurred, for a third person tn-' tervched without the least hesitation or apology.

Tlie new comer was no other than the Ihiuphin's table companion,' IJa le lietle. I’assing through the hare, she climbed up the chained lego and arms of Nemourn, ami lavished on the prisoner care-eea as fond,‘or even fonder, than those obtained by the Prince at an earlier hour of the name day.

"Ho you know Blanchette?” said Charles, surprised. "Know herl” replied Nemours; "for ten yearn ahe haa been my mouse, rny friend, my sister I”

“The little ingrate! Tire very morning, at the castle, she shared with me my breakfast biscuits'.”

“For ten years, monseigneur, she has come to my dungeon every day to share with me my black bread.”

Indeed!” murmured the young Prince.

Then broke forth .an affecting discussion between the son of Louis XI. and the prisoner, each declaring himself to be more unfortunate than the other, and therefore the one who should have the white mouse as a companion.

But as they could reach no settlement of the question, they agreed to let the mo.use herself decide the matter.

“Now, then, Mies,” said the Dauphin to Blanchette, “say frankly to which of us you wish to belong.”

Thue appealed to, the little white mouse went from one to the other caressingly, and then, stopping midway between them, looked at each in turn, her sparkling little eyes seeming to say:— “To both, my children!”

Here it must be explained that Blanchette, as her intelligence, tender-hearted-ness, and gentle manners may have suggested, was something more than an ordinary mouse; she was. in fact, a fairy—named, for her great compassion, the Fairy of Tears—who, for a slight offence given to a bad sister Fairy, had been transformed into her present shape for one hundred years, ninety-nine of

which she had already passed, going from palace to prison, and from t-orrow to sorrow’, pitilessly gnawing to pieces all the bad books she came upon and even munching up death sentences in the pocket of Tristan, the headsman! (Concluded- next week.)