The Strange Tale of the Snake Ring Page 2

  “Kind young gentleman,” called the beggar in a whining voice, “spare a few coins for a poor old man, wounded in the French wars, no friends or relations – just a few pennies would do.”

  This was the dirtiest, raggedest beggar that he had ever seen, and Thomas felt quite sorry for him. Reaching into his pocket he found a few small coins and dropped them into the begging bowl.

  “Thank you kindly, young gentleman,” said the beggar, “but surely you are a stranger here – what might your business here be?”

  “I am looking for work,” replied Thomas, “and I very much wish to work for the nobleman who owns the castle on the hill.”

  “He is the Prince of Schwarzburg,” said the beggar. “I have never set eyes on him, that is, so far as I know. But it is said that he puts on various disguises, and walks about the town listening to what the people are saying about him. If he hears someone speaking disrespectfully, that person will find himself arrested and thrown into a dungeon.”

  Now Thomas had never heard of a prince who did such a thing, and thought it quite a shabby trick for the prince to play on the townspeople. He could not help exclaiming, in quite a loud voice, “What a peculiar prince!”

  “Hush!” cried the beggar, “do not say such things. The prince himself might be hiding in yonder doorway or round the next corner. You should not even say such things to me, as it’s said that he sometimes disguises himself as a beggar.”

  “Thank you for warning me!” said Thomas, and looked in the doorway and round the corner, but there was no one in sight except an old woman sweeping the doorstep of the house opposite. He said goodbye to the beggar and set off again up the steep hill to the castle. When he explained to the sentry at the gate that he was looking for work, he was directed to the door of the castle kitchens. The chief cook was a fat, jolly man who invited Thomas into the kitchen.

  “Looking for work, are you?” asked the cook. “Well, the only work I have is washing the dishes, but I suppose that a bright young man like you might be too proud to do work like that!”

  “I’m not at all proud,” said Thomas, “and I will do any work you ask.”

  “Very well,” said the cook. “You are hired as third dishwasher. Now go and wash yourself at the pump in the yard, and come back here. I’ll find you some leftovers to eat, and you can start work straight away.”

  The leftovers turned out to be a large piece of game pie, several pieces of bread and a small mug of beer. Thomas was so hungry that this seemed to him like a wonderful banquet. He congratulated himself on his good fortune, and did not mind working as hard as he could, washing what seemed like a mountain of dirty vegetable pans and dishes. At last all was finished, and the two other boys who were the first and second dishwashers showed Thomas the small attic room, furnished with three narrow beds.

  “Our beds are hard and not very comfortable,” said one of the other boys.

  “When you have been sleeping on the ground any bed is better than none,” answered Thomas.

  He stretched out as comfortably as he could and was soon fast asleep.

  Next morning Thomas and his two companions were up at dawn, and were soon in the kitchen washing the first of the day’s dirty dishes.

  “Now, listen to me you three,” said the cook, looking rather worried. “I have just heard that the prince is coming to inspect the kitchens this morning. When he arrives, do not stop work until you are told. Do not say a word unless the prince addresses you, which is unlikely. But if he should happen to do so, bow, answer politely, and call him ‘Your Highness’.”

  The boys went on with their work, and sure enough, later in the morning, the prince strode into the kitchen, followed by his steward and two soldiers with drawn swords. Thomas continued to wash dishes, as he had been told. The prince walked all around the kitchen, the dairy, the stillroom and the larder, and every now and then muttered something to the steward. Just as everyone thought that he was about to leave, the prince moved to where Thomas was working, and stood a few paces behind him.

  “Turn round, boy, and face me,” snapped the prince.

  Thomas did so.

  “Are you new here?”

  Thomas bowed politely. “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “Where do you come from?”

  “From a village south of the forest, Your Highness.”

  “I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!” shouted the prince angrily. “YOU ARE THE PERSON WHO WAS TALKING ABOUT ME IN THE STREET. YOU CRIED OUT LOUDLY THAT I AM PECULIAR!”

  Thomas was too startled to reply.

  “To the dungeon with him!” ordered the prince.

  One of the soldiers sheathed his sword, produced a length of chain from his belt, and secured Thomas’s hands. Then the other soldier joined in and between them they half pushed and half dragged him out of the kitchen, down a flight of stone steps and into a small, dark underground cell. The heavy door shut with a clang, and the key was turned in the lock.

  There was a small, square hole at the top of the door, and by the small amount of light that filtered through, Thomas could just make out the details of his prison. It was just a small bare cell furnished only with a wooden box to sit on, and a heap of straw in one corner. That day went by more slowly than any day that Thomas could remember. At noon a soldier brought in a mug of thin soup and a piece of dry bread.

  In the afternoon he sat on the box and thought about his situation.

  “Well,” he said to himself, “that will teach me a lesson: that it is not always wise to say aloud what you are thinking. That old woman sweeping the steps must have been the prince in disguise. But what can I do now?”

  But no matter how hard he thought, he could not see any way out. He tried the door to make sure it was firmly locked. He felt all round the walls but found nothing but smooth stone. There was nothing to do but make the best of it. When night came he curled up on the straw. At least I’m used to sleeping rough, so I shall probably have a good night’s sleep, he thought.

  But he was mistaken. There was very little straw, and the stone floor was hard and cold. He was still awake when, in the early hours of the next morning, Thomas saw a glimmer of light coming from the door. Then he heard the key turn in the lock, the door was opened, and there stood the cook in his shift and nightcap, with a candle in one hand and Thomas’s knapsack in the other.

  Before Thomas could say anything, the cook began: “The prince said I could let you out as soon as it was morning. When the soldiers had taken you away, he turned to me and said that you couldn’t be all bad because you had given some coins to a beggar, but you had to be taught a lesson so you could stay in the cell till this morning.”

  Thomas nearly said, “What a peculiar prince!” but remembered in time, and instead said: “What a kind prince!”

  “Mind you,” continued the cook, “he’s just as likely to change his mind again as soon as he is awake; so I advise you to leave here as quickly as you can, and be well away from the town before it’s light. Now, I’ve put your belongings, some food and your water bottle in your knapsack – so take it, and good luck to you.”

  “Thank you very much indeed,” said Thomas. “You are the kindest man I’ve met since I left home.”

  “Go out through the kitchen and to the main gate. When you come to the sentry, say to him, ‘Open the gate, in the prince’s name!’ – and he will open it. When you get to the market cross, turn westwards, and in that direction there is a small wicket gate with no guards. Once again, goodbye, and good luck.”

  Thomas followed the cook’s instructions, and by the time the sun rose, he had left the peculiar prince’s kingdom far behind.

  Chapter 4

  Thomas Travels On

  Now followed many days of travelling. The weather became hotter, and the roads drier and more dusty, but Thomas travelled steadily on. Every few days it was necessary to stop and ask for work at some farm or orchard, but this was only to earn a little money for food, which would keep him alive during the next stage of
this journey.

  Once or twice he came to a great mansion or to a castle, where he tried to be taken into the service of the lord, but he had no success.

  “There’s plenty of work to be had on the farms and in the vineyards,” said the steward at one enormous house, and that seemed to be the general opinion. So Thomas had, for the present, to content himself with farm work. As the summer wore on, some of the farms began the corn harvest. When that was gathered in, there was the grape harvest in the vineyards that sloped steeply down the hillsides to the great River Rhine. As usual, Thomas worked hard, and his cheerful nature made him popular with the farmers and with the other workers.

  But at last the grapes, too, were all gathered in. Thomas thought that it was time to set off again to search for a nobleman who would employ him, and thus make it possible to carry out his plan to return and marry Gerda. But just at that time, the weather changed for the worse.

  Instead of day after day of warm sunshine, there was cold, drenching rain, blown along by gale force winds, which swept across the countryside.

  This weather lasted for several weeks, and when it eventually stopped, the roads were almost knee-deep in mud. Even men on horseback were not able to travel far. The farmer who owned the vineyard where Thomas had been working, whose name was Franz, said to him:

  “Thomas, I know you are wishing to be on your way, but you are very welcome to work here for the winter. There are lots of jobs to do indoors.”

  “Thank you very much,” replied Thomas, “but I have told you my story, and you realise why I must go as soon as I can.”

  “Listen to me,” said Franz seriously, “I know the weather in these parts much better than you do. When this rain has passed by, the wind will turn into the east. There will be night after night of snow, until it lies deep on all the hills. The river will run so fast and deep that it is dangerous to take out a boat. In fact, it is almost impossible to travel until the snows melt in the spring. Better to stay here than to be found frozen to death in the hills!”

  All the other workers on the farm told him the same story, and begged him, if he valued his life, to remain safe and warm on the farm until the winter had passed. Thomas agreed. Franz paid him well and gave him excellent food and lodging, and Thomas was even able to save a little money from his wages. The winter soon passed by, and Thomas was happy and comfortable in his work on the farm.

  Spring came, and the outdoor work began, but Thomas did not set off on his journey again. Franz thought to himself: Perhaps he has forgotten his sweetheart at home, and he will be content to stay here and work for me. He is such a good worker that I should be sorry to lose him.

  But when haymaking season came round, the sweet smell of the new mown hay, and the sound of the stone on the scythe, reminded Thomas of home, and of mowing the hay by the river with Gerda. He even remembered the little song, which they had sung together. Then he began to feel guilty that he had stayed with Franz so long.

  Once he had made up his mind to continue his journey, he sought out Franz, and said to him, “Franz, you are a good friend as well as a good master. So much so, that I have stayed too long with you, when I should have been on my way. But now my thoughts are all on my home and my sweetheart, so I must go at once.”

  “I am very sorry to see you go,” replied Franz, “but go with my blessing and a piece of advice: travel north until you come to the Kingdom of the Shining Sea. Everyone says that the king of that country is the richest and most generous nobleman in the whole of Germany.”

  So early the next morning, Thomas set out on his travels once more. The weather had turned fine and warm, and travelling was pleasant in that part of the country. Nevertheless, it was a very long way to the Shining Sea, and it was several more weeks before Thomas, tired and footsore, arrived at the palace of the king. By now he knew that the kitchen was the place where it was possible to obtain employment, but when he arrived at the kitchen door, there were already about twenty men and boys of different ages lining up outside.

  “Get to the back of the queue!” called several of them. “If there’s any work going, it’s first come, first served here,” said one.

  The door opened and a tall man in a chef’s hat and white apron stepped out. “I’m the head cook,” he announced, “and I can tell you that there is a job for only one man today.” The man at the head of the queue stepped forward.

  “Have you ever worked in a nobleman’s kitchen before?” the chef asked him.

  “No, I haven’t,” replied the man.

  “You are no good then,” said the chef. “The king told me only to employ men with experience. Have any of you others ever worked in a nobleman’s kitchen?” No one answered. The chef turned and was just about to disappear into the kitchen again, when Thomas suddenly remembered his experience with the ‘Peculiar Prince’.

  “Yes! I have worked for the Prince of Schwarzburg,” cried Thomas loudly. He thought it wise not to mention that he had only worked there for a few hours.

  The chef turned back, and said to Thomas, “In that case, you are just the man I want. Congratulations! You have just been appointed dishwasher to the king. Come with me, and as for you others, off you go as quickly as possible. You can see that this young man has been given the appointment.”

  The chef led the way into the kitchen, and Thomas followed.

  Chapter 5

  Gerda in Despair

  Gerda missed Thomas very much. She went about her work on the farm very much as before, but she rarely sang at her work as she had done in the past. When she did, her little song had changed, and the words were now like this:

  “I once had a sweetheart, but now I have none;

  And I’m so unhappy now Thomas has gone.”

  Every day after her work was done, she waited for a while at the gate, but no one ever came. The weeks and months went by. Winter came and spring, and then haymaking season came round again.

  One day Gerda had been sent alone to begin mowing the field by the river. It was hard work, as she could never get her scythe as sharp as Thomas used to make it. After a while she tried to lighten the work by singing, but found that the words had changed again:

  “What use is a scythe that’s too blunt to cut hay?

  What use is a sweetheart who is so far away?”

  As soon as she had sung the last line, she was sorry, and thought to herself, I should not sing words like that, as I expect Thomas is working very hard to make enough money to come home and marry me. And she was so unhappy that she stopped her work, sat down on the riverbank and began to cry. To comfort herself, when she had rubbed the tears from her eyes, she took off the ring that Thomas had given her, and pressed it between her hands.

  But her fingers were wet with her tears, and the next moment she had dropped the ring, which rolled down the steep bank into the water. Immediately Gerda stooped down and stared into the water. The river ran deep by the bank, and all she could see in the depths was a large fish, which flicked its tail and disappeared into the middle of the stream.

  Although Gerda had lived by the river all her life, she had never learned to swim and dare not trust herself to the swirling water. So she sought out Wilhelm, who was working on another part of the farm. With tears still streaming down her cheeks, she told him what had happened. He quickly called Robert, and the three of them returned, with nets on long poles, to where the ring had disappeared. They spent a long time dredging the bottom of the river with the nets, but without success. In the end Robert stripped and dived repeatedly into the water, but found nothing.

  “Either the current has carried it away,” he said, “or it has sunk too deeply into the mud to be found.” What none of them realised was that the brightness of the ring as it entered the water had attracted a fish, which had immediately swallowed it.

  This was the selfsame fish that Gerda had seen swimming away when she first looked into the water.

  When Robert had returned to the farm to dry himself, Gerda turned to
Wilhelm, and said sadly, “This is the worst day of my life. What shall I do? How am I to tell Thomas when he returns that I have lost the ring? It was the only valuable thing he possessed, and he gave it to me to keep forever!”

  “You must be in despair,” answered Wilhelm, “but you must remember that you are much more precious than any ring, no matter how valuable. I am sure that Thomas will think so too.”

  Gerda knew that Wilhelm was right, and that Thomas would value her more highly than any possession; but from now on she was torn between a longing for his return, and fear of his discovery that the ring was lost.

  Many times she stood in the place where the ring had disappeared, hoping that one day the water would be clear enough for the ring to be seen at the bottom of the river. But of course, it was nowhere to be found.

  Then, three months later, a letter from Thomas arrived. Now in those days, it was both difficult and expensive to send letters. They could take weeks or even months to be delivered, and sometimes they never arrived at all. Also, not many people could read and write, and it was fortunate that both Gerda and Thomas had been taught to do so when they were children, by the nuns at a nearby convent. The letter consisted of a piece of parchment rolled up, and sealed with a piece of red sealing wax. The letter read as follows:

  Written from the king’s palace.

  My dearest Gerda,

  I miss you very much and I long to be home with you.

  I have good news. After a long and weary journey I arrived at the king’s palace, where I was given work in the kitchen. I have already been promoted from washing dishes to waiting on the king’s table. I have a smart new uniform and get good food from the kitchen. I have already started saving my wages. There is a very important man in the palace called the Lord Chancellor who has been very kind to me. I do not know why, because he has a much higher position than I have, only a little below the king and the queen. One day I told him about you, and he gave me this piece of parchment to write on, and showed me how to send a letter. I’ve nearly filled it now, so keep on watching and waiting for me, and think of me every day when you look at your ring. As soon as I have saved enough I shall be on my way home. Give my love to everyone at the farm. And very much love to you, especially to you,