The inhabitants of Twilight have a more facile means of transition than the sons of men. While we have our steamboats, railways, telegraphs, and all other nurslings of science as our slaves, the races of the dim region can command the services of the powerful Air King Fancy. Swifter is he than the Wind, and stronger than the fabled Griffin of the Ancients. He can accommodate any number and all manner of travellers at a moment’s notice.
Baron Thimble, standing by the Yarra bank, invoked the rapid harbinger to his aid, and when Tom Brock the barber joined him there, they were fully prepared to start on their voyage.
“Humbug-loo-boo! Tictoleroo! Pish-bosh! Fudge!” cried the son of Twilight, and they were off. The electrical current, girdling the storm-tossed waters, where ships are broken and engulfed, could not outpace the conveyance of the fairy and the barber. The most elegant saloon could not afford more comfort than those trance-stuffed cushions upon which they reclined and gazed out upon the newly brightened landscape.
Then the fairy man spoke and unfolded his mission.
“I am the Baron Thimble. Know, O mortal, that the wise Prince Picnic is Ruler and Governor of Twilight. The Prince hath a beautiful daughter named Bi-ba-be-bi, which in the language of the country implies the Lady Lollypop. Twelve months ago, while the Prince was hunting in the Leap Frog Mountains, he was made prisoner by a huge, powerful chief of the Baboon country, named Gorilla, who demanded the Prince’s daughter in marriage, as ransom. My master consented to the terms, but begged that Gorilla would not press his suit for the space of one year and a day, so that Bi-ba-be-bi might be prepared for the ceremony. The monster agreed. And now, the time specified having elapsed, the horrid creature has crossed the mountains to demand his bride.”
The voice of Baron Thimble trembled with emotion as he continued: “Prince Picnic is full of sorrow, for he cannot think of suffering his lovely daughter to mate with such a monster as Gorilla. Bribes have been offered, gold and silver and gems, besides a large tract of territory known as Shadowsflit, bordering on our country, but the monster will have nothing in lieu of the lady.”
“Why don’t you call out the volunteers, and drive the beast back into the mountains?” inquired the barber.
“Ah, there lies the difficulty,” answered Thimble. “The Governor of Twilight has never broken his word to man or monster, and he will not go from it in this instance. The nobles and churchmen have tried to persuade him that, under the circumstances, he is not bound to redeem his word with Gorilla; but he will not listen to our advice, and I’m afraid the lovely girl, Lady Lollypop, will be sacrificed.”
“What is the Baboon chief like?” asked the barber.
“Tall as a giant, and as strong as a dozen giants combined,” replied his companion. “The Prince quartered him in the summer palace, and the rogue has almost torn it down piecemeal. He has eaten up the shrubs and flowers, and destroyed every animal within his reach.”
“Has Lady Lollypop seen her affianced husband?”
“No; poor Bi-ba-be-bi remains as yet in blissful ignorance of the fact, yet to-morrow the whole matter must be made known to her, except——” and the Baron paused, and looked fixedly at Tom Brock.
“Except what?” said the barber.
“Except you aid us,” rejoined the fairy. “We held a Council yesterday—Gaboon, the Prince’s jester, being President. The Chairman, who understands the manners, customs, and language of Gorilla-land, stated that this monster was not in his opinion a real native Gorilla, inasmuch as the beings of the Baboon regions had only four toes, whereas the visitor had five; further, in conversing with the intended husband of the fair Bi-ba-be-bi, he had discovered that the creature spoke the language of the country with a strong foreign accent—these, together with other matters he did not wish at that meeting to particularise, induced him (the Chairman) to conclude that the monster was other than what he appeared, and that the only way to test the truth or otherwise of his suggestion, with reference to the unwelcome guest, would be to engage a smart barber to shave the Gorilla from head to heel. I need scarcely add that the proposition of the President was unanimously agreed to. And here you are!”
Wee Baron Thimble chuckled and rubbed his hands together until the joints cracked again.
“Why, you surely didn’t engage me to shave a Gorilla?” cried the poor barber in astonishment.
“I certainly did, Tom Brock.”
“What! All over—body and all?” inquired he, with starting eyeballs.
“Body, head and feet, Tom. Wherever there is a hair you must cut it off,” replied Thimble.
“Well, I’ve often heard of a pig being shaved, but never a Gorilla. What do you want to shave the beast for, eh?”
The Baron remained thoughtful for a moment ere he replied. “It will be a sure test to prove whether this monster is really the chief of the Baboon realm or not,” he said. “If he is not, so much the better for Lollypop, and if he is the real Simon Pure, his enormous strength will depart with his heavy coat. He will become docile, and we can then dress him as becomes the bridegroom of a Princess. That is the opinion of Gaboon.”
“Bother Gaboon!” cried the barber. “I only wish the President of the Council had to shave the creature, that’s all.”
“There are no barbers in Twilight,” answered Thimble; “else I had not come to thee; besides, thou hast received thy reward.”
“This monster may kill me,” replied Tom.
“True. Then again he may not. Come, man, whatever thou may’st value thyself at shall be paid to thee when thy task is ended. Great results hang upon thy skill and on the keen edge of thy tools. Although shaving is unknown here, there is a potent influence about it amongst thy race, whether it may be upon their faces or upon their consciences. Here we are at the mansion of Prince Picnic.”
A charming edifice rises to view, nestling its gables and turrets ’midst clouds of richest foliage, upon whose glistening tops rest every shade of green, with brown and russet and yet a colour of amber between, encircling the wave like hills in the distance. Kingdom of Twilight! how I love thee! Not as a stranger do I enter thy gates. I have been here before, long, long ago, when the years were young and full of promise for me; when she was by my side who was too frail, too good for earth. Here we have lingered silently, side by side, while the nightingale warbled forth its soft notes in love for the rose, and the roses gave forth their fragrance until the air became an essence of perfume. Oh, sweet bird of Twilight, thy song yet fills the air, but silent and cold the fond heart that beat in unison with thy sweet music. Will she listen for thy singing when the twilight gathers its shadows o’er her lowly grave on the hillside? Oh, nightingale! oh, twilight memories! Ye preach to my yearning soul more eloquently than words of man. Patience, love, hope, are borne to me upon your voice, and fall gently as the breath of mercy and forgiveness upon the quickened sense, that sees revealed for one brief moment a glimpse of Paradise and its forms of unperishable glory.
The approach of the two travellers was observed by the captain of the guard at the palace gates, who immediately sent a message to the Prince; whereupon, as soon as they arrived they were ushered into the presence of the Ruler of Twilight, who received the Baron and the barber very graciously. Refreshments were ordered to be set before them, and when Tom had satisfied the cravings of hunger, Prince Picnic asked him many questions respecting his journey, and desired to inspect the articles in the bag. While Prince Picnic was engaged with the razors and lather box, our hero had time to have a good look at him. He appeared much smaller than the Baron, and a trifle older looking, yet the Prince was still what many ladies would term a handsome fellow. His white pointed beard was very long and strongly scented, yet his eyes were as keen as a hawk, and his step as supple and light as a boy of fifteen. If Tom Brock had wondered at the richness and texture of Baron Thimble’s clothing, he wondered still more at the magnificence of Prince Picnic’s dressing-gown, and also at the lavish display of pure gold in everything he saw about the room. In fact, the barber had yet to learn that the country was one vast gold mine, which in the absence of other metals was employed for everything in common use.
It was time to retire to rest when the Prince broke up the audience.
The Baron conducted Tom to an elegant sleeping apartment. “The Gorilla has found his way here,” he said at parting. “The beast has selected the sward of the lawn in preference to a bed. Remember, your task must be finished before the assembling of the Court to-morrow. Sleep well. Good-night.”