Red Axe | Page 9

be afraid, mannie," she said, laying down the axe on the stock
of the couch, against which its broad red blade and glass-clear cutting
edge made an irregular patch of light. "Come and sit down beside me
on your bed. I shall not hurt you indeed, mannie, and I want to talk to
you. There is nothing but a little boy down-stairs. And I like best to talk
with men."

"I declare it is the dead man's brat I saved last night for Hugo's sake!" I
heard my father mutter, "the maid with the girdle of golden letters."
Presently a smile of amusement struggled about his mouth at her
bairnly imperiousness, but he came obediently enough and sat down.
Nevertheless he took away the heavy axe from her and said, "Put this
down, then, or give it to me. It is not a pretty plaything for little girls!"
The small figure in white put up a tiny fat hand, and solemnly withdrew
the red patch of mask from before the wide-open baby eyes.
"I am not a little girl, remember, mannie," she said, "I am a Princess
and a great lady."
My father bowed without rising.
"I shall not forget," he said.
"You should stand up and bow when I tell you that," said she. "I
declare you have no more manners than the little boy in the brown
blanket down-stairs."
"Princess," said my father, gravely, "during my life I have met a great
many distinguished people of your rank; and, do you know, not one of
them has ever complained of my manners before."
"Ah," cried the little maid, "then you have never met my father, the
Prince. He is terribly particular. You must go so" (she imitated the
mincing walk of a court chamberlain), "you must hold your tails thus"
(wagging her white nightrail and twisting about her head to watch the
effect), "and you must retire--so!" With that she came bowing
backward towards the well of the staircase, so far that I was almost
afraid she would fall plump into my arms. But she checked herself in
time, and without looking round or seeing me she tripped back to my
father's bedside and sat down quite confidingly beside him.
"Now you see," cried she, "what you would have had to put up with if
you had met my father. Be thankful then that it is only the little

Princess Helene that is sitting here."
"I think I had the honor to meet your father," said Gottfried Gottfried,
gravely, again removing the restless baby fingers from the Red Axe and
laying it on the far side of the couch beyond him.
"Then, if you met him, did he not make you bow and bend and walk
backward?" asked the Playmate, looking up very sharply.
"Well, you see, Princess," explained my father, "it was for such a very
short time that I had the honor of converse with him."
"Ah, that does not matter," cried the maid; "often he would be most
difficult when you came running in just for a moment. Why, he would
straighten you up and make you do your bows if you were only racing
after a kitten, or, what was worse, he would call the Court Chamberlain
to show you how to do it. But when I am grown up--ah, then!--I mean
to make the Chamberlain bow and walk backward; for you know he is
only taking care of my princedom for me. Oh, and I shall have you well
taught by that time, long man. It is cold--cold. Let me get into your bed
and I will give you your first lesson now."
So with that she skipped into my father's place and drew the great red
cloak about her.
"Now then, first position," she commanded, clapping her hands like a
Sultana, "your feet together. Draw back your left--so. Very well! Bend
the knee--stupid, not that one. Now your head. If I have to come to you,
sir--there, that is better. Well done! Oh, I shall have a peck of trouble
with you, I can see that. But you will do me credit before I have done
with you."
In a little while she tired of the lesson.
"Come and sit down now"--she waved her hand graciously--"here on
the bed by me. Though I am a Princess really, I am not proud, and, as I
said, I may make something of you yet."

My father came forward gravely, wrapped himself in another of his red
cloaks, and sat down. I shivered in my blanket on the stair-head, but I
could not bear to move nor yet reveal myself. This was better than any
play I had ever watched from the sparred gallery of the palace, to which
Gottfried Gottfried took me sometimes when the mummers came