Part 56

(But in the end both boys were captains, because that meant being on the boat, whereas being the Princess's brother, however turbanned, only meant standing on the bank. And there is no rule to prevent captains wearing turbans and Persian daggers, except in the Navy where, of course, it is not done.)

So then they all tore up to the attic where the dressing-up trunk was, and pulled out all the dressing-up things on to the floor. And all the time they were dressing, Alison was telling the others what they were to say and do. The Princess wore a white satin skirt and a red flannel blouse and a veil formed of several motor scarves of various colours. Also a wreath of pink roses off one of Ethel's old hats, and a pair of pink satin slippers with sparkly buckles.

Kenneth wore a blue silk dressing-jacket and a yellow sash, a lace collar, and a towel turban. And the others divided between them an eastern dressing-gown, once the property of their grandfather, a black spangled scarf, very holey, a pair of red and white football stockings, a Chinese coat, and two old muslin curtains, which, rolled up, made turbans of enormous size and fierceness.

On the landing outside cousin Ethel's open door Alison paused and said, 'I say!'

'Oh! come on,' said Conrad, 'we haven't fixed the Chinese lanterns yet, and it's getting dark.'

'You go on,' said Alison, 'I've just thought of something.'

The children were allowed to play in the boat so long as they didn't loose it from its moorings. The painter was extremely long, and quite the effect of coming home from a long voyage was produced when the three boys pushed the boat out as far as it would go among the boughs of the beech-tree which overhung the water, and then reappeared in the circle of red and yellow light thrown by the Chinese lanterns.

'What ho! ashore there!' shouted the captain.

'What ho!' said a voice from the shore which, Alison explained, was disguised.

'We be three poor mariners,' said Conrad by a happy effort of memory, 'just newly come to shore. We seek news of the Princess of Tripoli.'

'She's in her palace,' said the disguised voice, 'wait a minute, and I'll tell her you're here. But what do you want her for? ("A poor minstrel of France") go on, Con.'

'A poor minstrel of France,' said Conrad, '(all right! I remember,) who has heard of the Princess's beauty has come to lay, to lay----'

'His heart,' said Alison.

'All right, I know. His heart at her something or other feet.'

'Pretty feet,' said Alison. 'I go to tell the Princess.'

Next moment from the shadows on the bank a radiant vision stepped into the circle of light, crying--

'Oh! Rudel, is it indeed thou? Thou art come at last. O welcome to the arms of the Princess!'

'What do I do now?' whispered Rudel (who was Kenneth) in the boat, and at the same moment Conrad and George said, as with one voice--

'My hat! Alison, won't you catch it!'

For at the end of the Princess's speech she had thrown back her veils and revealed a blaze of splendour. She wore several necklaces, one of seed pearls, one of topazes, and one of Australian shells, besides a string of amber and one of coral. And the front of the red flannel blouse was studded with brooches, in one at least of which diamonds gleamed. Each arm had one or two bracelets and on her clenched hands glittered as many rings as any Princess could wish to wear.

So her brothers had some excuse for saying, 'You'll catch it.'

'No, I sha'n't. It's my look out, anyhow. Do shut up,' said the Princess, stamping her foot. 'Now then, Ken, go ahead. Ken, you say, "Oh Lady, I faint with rapture!"'

'I faint with rapture,' said Kenneth stolidly. 'Now I land, don't I?'

He landed and stared at the jewelled hand the Princess held out.

'At last, at last,' she said, 'but you ought to say that, Ken. I say, I think I'd better be an eloping Princess, and then I can come in the boat. Rudel dies really, but that's so dull. Lead me to your ship, oh noble stranger! for you have won the Princess, and with you I will live and die. Give me your hand, can't you, silly, and do mind my train.'

So Kenneth led her to the boat, and with some difficulty, for the satin train got between her feet, she managed to flounder into the punt.

'Now you stand and bow,' she said. 'Fair Rudel, with this ring I thee wed,' she pressed a large amethyst ring into his hand, 'remember that the Princess of Tripoli is yours for ever. Now let's sing Integer Vitae because it's Latin.'

So they sat in the boat and sang. And presently the servants came out to listen and admire, and at the sound of the servants' approach the Princess veiled her shining splendour.