Part 8

“M-e-w!”

Turning hurriedly about, Ernest ran to the window and threw it open, upon which, with a pleased and grateful purr, a beautiful gray cat stepped upon the table which stood beneath the window, and, looking in the young man’s wondering face, remarked again,

“M-e-w!”

“You said that before, but I don’t know what it means,” said Ernest gayly, who, although he had never seen a real cat, had heard them described and had seen pictures of them, so he at once guessed what his visitor was, and was well pleased that at last he had a companion.

“Let me see; perhaps ‘w’ means fish,” continued he, going to a shelf in the corner, which served him for a pantry, and taking a wooden platter with the remains of a broiled fish upon it. This he set upon the table in front of the gray cat, who, first rubbing herself with a melodious purr against his hand, applied herself to the fish, and daintily eat some of the best pieces, then drank a little water which Ernest offered her with an apology for having no milk to give, which he said he had heard ladies of her degree were very fond of. “But,” as he said, “since I not only have no milk, but never saw it, or even the cows and goats which give it, I am very glad to see that your highness can drink water.”

The cat, having finished her meal, leaped softly to the floor, and, after walking slowly round the room, looking attentively at every thing in it, she sprang gracefully into Ernest’s arm-chair (which was indeed the only chair in the whole house), and, seating herself upright in the middle of the cushion, began to wash her face and paws with her little red tongue.

“That’s right, my queen, don’t be ceremonious,” said Ernest, laughing aloud. “To be sure you have left me nothing to sit on except this log of wood, but then you are company, and should have the best. Pray make yourself entirely at home. I am very sorry I have no fine napkin to offer you to wipe those pretty paws upon now that you have washed them, but perhaps you can dry them by the fire. Let me make it up.”

So Ernest threw some more wood upon the fire; and then, seating himself upon a great block in the opposite chimney corner, leaned his elbows upon his knees and took an attentive survey of his visitor, who, having completed her toilet, sat regarding the fire with half-closed eyes, purring softly a little tune of her own composition, and beating time with her long tail.

She was a very pretty cat, with fur of a rich dark gray, except her paws and face, which were pure white, and a crown or circle about her head, of an indescribable glittering appearance. It was this crown-like circle which had induced Ernest to call her highness and queen.

After looking at her a while, the young man reached across the fire, and, taking the cat gently up, placed her in his lap and began to smoothe her rich fur and fondle her, but in spite of all his endeavors to hold her, Pussy glided from his grasp, and with noiseless leap regained her position in the easy-chair.

“You don’t like familiarity--mustn’t be handled, eh?” said Ernest. “Your majesty is very unkind, I think; but perhaps when we are better acquainted----”

Ernest stopped thunderstruck. It was just twelve o’clock, although he did not know it; and at the moment when the clock, had there been one, would have struck the hour, a cloud of golden sparks rose from the circlet upon the cat’s head and filled the whole room, so that Ernest closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands.

In a moment, however, he looked up and rubbed his eyes. The flaming sparks no longer blinded him, but still he doubted his own sight, for there before him, there where a moment before he had seen the gray cat, he now beheld, seated in his old arm-chair, as if on a throne, a beautiful and majestic woman, in the first bloom of youth and loveliness.

Her long, wide dress, which flowed upon the ground at each side, was a rich, soft velvet of a beautiful silver-gray color, and from its loose sleeves and beneath its hem peeped the smallest and whitest of hands and feet. The beautiful face was surrounded by long, dark hair, and in a circle about the head was the glittering, crown-like appearance which Ernest had noticed on the cat’s head. It did not seem of any substance, like gold, for instance, but merely light and color. The large, light-colored eyes of the beautiful stranger were fixed anxiously upon Ernest, as if waiting for him to speak.

At last he stammered out:

“Are you--can it be--but it was a cat!”

“Yes, it was a cat,” replied the sweetest voice in the world, “but it was also me, Ernest. I am the princess Phelia, only daughter of the king of Catland. All my race have the privilege of assuming at will the human form or the cat form. The nobility and royalty generally appear as men and women, only assuming the cat form in play or as a disguise; but vast numbers of our subjects of the inferior order retain the cat form altogether, and as such live unsuspected among men.

“As for me, I never was degraded from the human form until in an unhappy hour I wandered from my father’s kingdom into that of our neighbor, the Gold King. Here I met his daughter Oriphera, who is an enchantress, and of a very bad disposition. She hated me beside, because she had heard that I was more beautiful than she. So snatching from my head the crown which I always wore as a badge of my rank, she threw some water in my face and said:

“‘Take your cat form, you miserable Pussy, and retain it for the rest of your life, except during the half hour between twelve and one o’clock on Halloween. You never shall be released from this spell unless you can find a young man twenty-five years of age, who has never looked on woman’s face, although free to go wherever he chooses, and who shall be able to take from me this crown, and replace it on your head before two years from this day.’

“As she finished she threw some more water upon me (I never could bear to be wet), and with a mew of grief and anger I ran away as fast as I could go. Of course I could not present myself at my father’s court in such a disguise,--I, who had always taken pride in being as un-cat-like in my demeanor as possible; and so I wandered uneasily about the world, looking for the wonderful youth, who, although at perfect liberty to do so, had never looked upon a woman’s face. Fortunately I was not to be mistaken for a common cat. Oriphera, although she stole my crown, could not deprive me of its light, which is my birthright, and by that I have always been recognized among cats as one of the royal family, although no one knew me as the unhappy Phelia.

“You may be sure I never omitted to ask every cat with whom I met if they had ever heard of a young man such as I described, but every one answered no, and I began to despair, for in one month more, the two years will be gone, and after that all aid is vain. But a few weeks ago I fell in with a seafaring cat, just returned from a whaling voyage, and he, in answer to my inquiries turned two somersets backward (which is equivalent among cats to clapping the hands among men), and said,

“‘I know the very man. My master, who is a sailor, was shipwrecked four years ago, and rescued by the very youth you want to find. I have often heard him speak of him.’

“My friend, the seafaring cat, then proceeded to tell me minutely where to find you; and, not to be tedious, I arrived very tired and discouraged at your window this evening.” Here the princess, overcome by her feelings, covered her face with her hands and made a long pause,--at last looking up and smiling sweetly upon Ernest, she said, “Now tell me, will you recover my crown from that ---- Oriphera, and make me the happiest of princesses”

“Can you ask, revered princess? My life is yours; only tell me how and where to find her,” exclaimed Ernest.

“The kingdom of Aura, her father, is in the centre of the earth. You will find the entrance in the forest of Gnomes; but you can never get the crown unless you have the flute from the Cave of the Four Winds, to lull the Gnomes to sleep.”

“And where is the Cave of the Four Winds, most beautiful of princesses?” asked Ernest, eagerly.

“It is on the top of ---- m-e-w!” This last word was uttered in a very angry voice, for just as Phelia had said “top of,” her half hour of freedom closed, and she was suddenly retransformed into a cat, without even power to add the one word which would have directed Ernest to the Cave of the Four Winds.

The young man was as much disappointed as the princess, but consoled himself by promising her that he would use so much diligence and make so many inquiries, that he did not doubt to soon meet with some one who could direct him to the cave where the magic flute was to be found.