The Uncrowned King Read online

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  THE UNCROWNED KING

  BYHAROLD BELL WRIGHT

  AUTHOR OF"THE SHEPHERD OF THE HILLS"ETC., ETC.

  ILLUSTRATIONSBY JOHN REA NEILL

  1910

  ToMR. ELSBERY W. REYNOLDSMyPublisher and Friend,Whose belief in my work has made mywork possible, I gratefullydedicate this taleofThe Uncrowned King

  Redlands, California.May fourth, 1910

  "Eyes blinded by the fog of Things cannot see Truth. Ears deafened by the din of Things cannot hear Truth. Brains bewildered by the whirl of Things cannot think Truth. Hearts deadened by the weight of Things cannot feel Truth. Throats choked by the dust of Things cannot speak Truth."

  CONTENTS

  The Pilgrim and His PilgrimageThe Voice of the WavesThe Voice of the Evening WindThe Voice of the NightThe Voice of the New Day

  ILLUSTRATIONSDrawn byJohn Rea Neill

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  THE PILGRIM AND HIS PILGRIMAGE

  The Pilgrim and His Pilgrimage (see king002.png)]

  For many, many, weary months the Pilgrim journeyed in the wide andpathless Desert of Facts. So many indeed were the months that thewayworn Pilgrim, himself, came at last to forget their number.

  And always, for the Pilgrim, the sky by day was a sky of brass, softenednot by so much as a wreath of cloud mist. Always, for him, the hot airwas stirred not by so much as the lift of a wild bird's wing. Never, forhim, was the awful stillness of the night broken by voice of his kind,by foot-fall of beast, or by rustle of creeping thing. For the toilingPilgrim in the vast and pathless Desert of Facts there was no kindlyface, no friendly fire. Only the stars were many--many and very near.

  Day after day, as the Pilgrim labored onward, through the torturingheat, under the sky of brass, he saw on either hand lakes of livingwaters and groves of many palms. And the waters called him to theirhealing coolness: the palms beckoned him to their restful shade andshelter. Night after night, in the dreadful solitude, frightful Shapescame on silent feet out of the silent darkness to stare at him withdoubtful, questioning, threatening eyes; drawing back at last, if hestood still, as silently as they had come, or, if he advanced, vanishingquickly, only to reappear as silently in another place.

  But the Pilgrim knew that the enchanting scenes that lured him by daywere but pictures in the heated air. He knew that the fearful Shapesthat haunted him by night were but creatures of his own overwroughtfancy. And so he journeyed on and ever on, in the staggering heat, underthe sky of brass, in the awful stillness of the night: on and ever on,through the wide and pathless waste, until he came at last to theOuter-Edge-Of-Things--came to the place that is between the Desert ofFacts and the Beautiful Sea, even as it is written in the Law of thePilgrimage.

  The tired feet of the Traveler left now the rough, hot floor of thedesert for a soft, cool carpet of velvet grass all inwrought withblossoms that filled the air with fragrance. Over his head, tall treesgently shook their glistening, shadowy leaves, while sweet voiced birdsof rare and wondrous plumage flitted from bough to bough. Across a skyof deepest blue, fleets of fairy cloud ships, light as feathery down,floated--floated--drifting lazily, as though, piloted only by the wind,their pilot slept. All about him, as he walked, multitudes of sunlightand shadow fairies danced gaily hand in hand. And over the shimmeringsurface of the Sea a thousand thousand fairy waves ran joyously, oneafter the other, from the sky line to the pebbly beach, making liquidmusic clearer and softer than the softest of clear toned bells.

  And there it was, in that wondrously beautiful place, theOuter-Edge-Of-Things, that the Pilgrim found, fashioned of sheerestwhite, with lofty dome, towering spires, and piercing minarets liftingout of the living green, the Temple of Truth.

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  In reverent awe the Pilgrim stood before the sacred object of hisPilgrimage.

  At last, with earnest step, the worshiper approached the holy edifice.But when he would have passed through the high arched door, his way wasbarred by one whose garments were white even as the whiteness of theTemple, whose eyes were clear even as the skies, and whose face shoneeven as the shining Beautiful Sea.

  The Pilgrim, hesitating, spoke: "You are?"

  The other answered in a voice that was even as the soft wind thatstirred the leaves of the forest: "I am Thyself."

  Then the Pilgrim--"And your office?"

  "I am the appointed Keeper of the Temple of Truth; save by my permissionnone may enter here."

  Cried the Pilgrim eagerly: "But I? I may enter? Surely I have fulfilledThe Law! Surely I have paid The Price!"

  "What law have you fulfilled? What price have you paid?" gently asked hein the garments of white.

  Proudly now the other answered: "I have accomplished alone the longjourney through the Desert of Facts. Alone I have endured the days underthe sky of brass; alone I have borne the awful solitude of the nights. Iwas not drawn aside by the lovely scenes that tempted me. I was notturned back by the dreadful Shapes that threatened me. And so I haveattained the Outer-Edge-Of-Things."

  "You have indeed fulfilled The Law," said he of the shining face. "AndThe Price?"

  The Pilgrim answered sadly: "I left behind all things dearest to theheart of man--Wealth of Traditions inherited from the Long Ago, HolyPrejudices painfully gathered through the ages of the past, SacredOpinions, Customs, Favors and Honors of the World that is, in the timesthat are."

  "You have indeed paid The Price," said the soft voice of the other, "butstill, still there is one thing more."

  "And the one thing more?" asked the Pilgrim, "I knew not that therecould be one thing more."

  The Keeper of the Temple was silent for a little, then said very gently:"Is there nothing, O Hadji, that you would ask Thyself?"

  Then all at once the Pilgrim understood. Said he slowly: "There is stillone thing more. Tell me, tell me--Why? Why The Law of the Pilgrimage?Why the journey so long? Why the way so hard? Why is the Temple of Truthhere on the Outer-Edge-Of-Things?"

  And Thyself answered clearly: "He who lives always within Things cannever worship in Truth. Eyes blinded by the fog of Things cannot seeTruth. Ears deafened by the din of Things cannot hear Truth. Brainsbewildered by the whirl of Things cannot think Truth. Hearts deadened bythe weight of Things cannot feel Truth. Throats choked by the dust ofThings cannot speak Truth. Therefore, O Hadji, is the Temple of Truthhere on the Outer-Edge-Of-Things; therefore is The Law of thePilgrimage."

  "And The Price?" asked the Pilgrim; "It was so great a price. Why?"

  Thyself answered: "Found you no bones in the Desert? Found you no gravesby the way?"

  The other replied: "I saw the Desert white with bones--I found the wayset among many graves."

  "And the hands of the dead?"--asked Thyself, in that voice so like thewind that stirred the leaves of the forest--"And the hands of the dead?"

  And the Pilgrim answered now with understanding: "The hands of the deadheld fast to their treasures--held fast to their Wealth of Traditions,to their Holy Prejudices, to the Sacred Opinions, Customs, Favors andHonors of Men."

  Then Thyself, the appointed Keeper of the Temple of Truth, went quietlyaside from the path. With slow and reverent step, with bowed uncoveredhead, the Pilgrim crossed the threshold and through the high archeddoorway entered the sacred corridors.

  But within the Temple, before approaching the altar with his offering,the Pilgrim was constrained to retire to The Quiet Room, there to spendthe hours until a new day in prayerful meditation. It was there thatthis Tale of The Uncrowned King came to him--came to him at the end ofhis long pilgrimage across the Des
ert of Facts--came to him after he hadpaid The Price, after he had fulfilled The Law, after he had asked ofThyself, the Keeper of the Temple, "Why?"

  There, in The Quiet Room in the Temple of Truth on theOuter-Edge-Of-Things, the Voices to the Pilgrim told this Tale of TheUncrowned King.

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  AND THE FIRST VOICE WAS THE VOICE OF THE WAVES

  And the First Voice was the Voice of the Waves (seeking004.png)]

  It was nearing the fall of day when first the Pilgrim laid himself tomeditate upon his couch in The Quiet Room.

  Without the Temple, the tall trees rustled softly their glossy leavesand over the flower-figured carpet of green the sunlight and shadowfairies danced along the lanes of gold. High in the blue above, thefairy cloud-fleets were drifting--drifting--idly floating. Over theBeautiful Sea, the glad wave fairies ran one after the other from beyondthe far horizon to the sandy shore.

  In The Quiet Room where the Pilgrim lay, it was very, very, still. Onlythe liquid music of the waves came through the open window--came to thePilgrim clearer and sweeter than the sweetest notes from clear tonedbells.

  And after a little there was in the music of the waves a Voice.

  Said the Voice: "To thee, O Hadji, I come from the Beautiful Sea; theinterminable, unfathomable sea, that begins at the Outer-Edge-Of-Thingsand stretches away into Neverness. I speak from out the Deeps Beneath. Itell of the Great That Is. I am a Voice of Life, O Hadji, and mine it isto begin for you The Tale of The Uncrowned King."

  And this is the beginning of the Tale that the Voice of the Waves began.

  Very great and very wonderful, O Hadji, is the Land of Allthetime. Verygreat and very wonderful is the Royal City Daybyday. Beautiful inAllthetime are the lakes and rivers, the mountains, plains and streams.Beautiful in Daybyday are the groves and gardens, the drives and parks,the harbors and canals. Countless, in this Royal City, are the palaces.Without number are the people--without number and of many races,languages, and names.

  But amid the countless palaces in this marvelous city Daybyday, there isone Temple only--only one. For the numberless people of the many races,languages, and names, there is but one God--only one. About this RoyalCity there is no Wall. For the King of Allthetime, who dwells inDaybyday, there is no Crown.

  But the days that were were not as the days that are, O Hadji, andtherefore is this Tale.

  In the long ago olden days, when King What-Soever-Youthink ruled overthe Land of Allthetime, there were, in this Royal City Daybyday,religions many--as many quite as the races, languages and names of thepeople. Many then were the temples built by the many followers of themany religions to their many gods. For you must know that KingWhat-Soever-You-think was, of all wise kings that ever were or will be,the very wisest and, therefore, permitted his subjects to worship whomthey would.

  Always in the city streets there were vast throngs of people passing toand fro among the temples, bearing offerings and singing praises to thegods of their choice; for the chiefest occupation of the dwellers inDaybyday was then, as it is now, the old, old, occupation of worship.Some of the temples, it is true, were at times quite deserted, while inothers there was not room for the multitudes; but even in the nearlyempty temples the priests and beggars always remained, for, in that age,the people of Daybyday changed often their gods nor followed any veryfar.

  And you must know, too, O Hadji, that in those long ago olden days--thedays of the reign of What-Soever-Youthink there was for the Ruler ofAllthetime a Crown; and that of all the wonders in that wonderful landthis Crown was the most wonderful. More dear to the people of Daybydaythan their city itself, more precious than their splendid temples, moresacred even than their many gods, was this--the Crown of their King.

  It was so, first, because the Crown was extremely old. From thebeginning of the reign of the Royal Family Everyone, no one knows howmany thousands of ages ago, it had passed from king to king, even untilthat day.

  It was so, second, because the Crown was exceedingly valuable. From thevery beginning of the beginning each ruler had in turn added a jewel tothe golden, gem encrusted emblem of his rank.

  It was so, third, because the Crown was a Magic Crown, though no onethen knew its magic--they knew only that its magic was.

  Therefore, again, O Hadji, is this Tale.

  Also, in those days, there was about this Royal City a Wall--a wallbuilt, so they said, on the very foundations of the world; so strongthat no force could breach it, and so high that the clouds often hid itstowers and battlements. Only from the topmost cupola of the Royal Palacecould one see over this mighty barrier. Only by the Two Great Gatescould one pass through.

  And so the good people of Allthetime could all quite clearly see that inthe Royal City Daybyday the precious Magic Crown was as safe as evercrown could be. And it was so, O Hadji--it was so. The Crown was as safeas ever crown could be--as safe indeed as ever a crown can be.

  And this too is truth, O Hadji; that in Daybyday, even now, you may findruins of the many temples, and here and there a little of the many gods.Even now you may see where the Great Wall was. But of the Crown, inthese days, there is nothing--nothing.

  And this is how it happened--this is the way it came to be.

  King What-Soever-Youthink was the father of two sons; twins they were,and their names--Really-Is and Seemsto-Be. No one in all the kingdomcould tell them one from the other, though the princes themselves knewthat Really-Is was first born, and that when the wise king, theirfather, died, it would be for him to occupy the throne, to wear theCrown, and rule the Land of Allthetime.

  One day when the young princes were playing in the palace yard theydiscovered, by chance, an old door that led to the stairway in a tower.Of course they climbed up, up, up, until they stood at last in thecupola at the very top. Far beneath their feet they saw the roofs of theRoyal Palace, and the gardens, fields, and orchards, like spots andsplashes of color. The walks and courts appeared as lines and squares ofwhite, while the soldiers and servants moved about like tiny animateddots. Reaching away from the palace grounds on every side was thewonderful city Daybyday, so far below that no sound could reach theirears. To their delight, the princes found that they could even look downupon the Great Wall; and, because there were that day no clouds to shutout the view, they could see far, far away over the Land of Allthetime.

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  "Look, brother," cried Seemsto-Be, catching Really-Is by the arm inquick excitement, "Look! what is that flashing and gleaming in the sun?"

  As he spoke, he pointed afar off to the land beyond the river that marksthe end of Allthetime.

  "I'm sure I cannot tell;" answered Really-Is, shading his eyes with hisopen hand and gazing long and earnestly in the direction his brotherindicated; "It looks--it looks like a city."

  "It is, it is," cried Seemsto-Be. "It is the City Sometime in the Landof Yettocome. I remember hearing once the Chief Gardener telling theChief Coachman about it, and he said that the Chief Cook said that heheard the Captain of the Guard say that it is far more wonderful thanour own city Daybyday; and it must be so, Really-Is, for see, brother,how the walls shine like polished silver, and look! Is not that a palaceor a temple blazing so like a ruby flame?"

  Often after that did the twin princes, Really-Is and Seemsto-Be, climbthe winding stairs in the palace tower and look away over the Great Wallof Daybyday to the City Sometime in the Land of Yettocome. Many were thehours they spent talking of the marvelous place that so filled thedistance with dazzling splendor. And at last, when the princes werequite grown, they went before their royal father and asked permission tovisit the city they had seen.

  Now King What-Soever-Youthink was very sad when his sons made theirrequest, but nevertheless, because he was a wise king, he gave his royalconsent, and, that the brothers might make their journey in comfort,presented to each a priceless horse from the palace stables. ToReally-Is he gave Reality; to Seemsto-Be he gave Appearance; and bothwere steeds of noble breedin
g, swift and strong, beautiful and proud--aslike even as the royal twins, their masters.

  So it came that the two princes bade farewell to their father, the King,and rode bravely out of the city Daybyday, through the Land ofAllthetime, and along the way that leads to the City Sometime in theLand of Yettocome.

  "And this, O Hadji," said the Voice of the Waves, "is all of The Tale ofThe Uncrowned King that is given me to tell."

  The liquid music of the waves came no longer through the openwindow--the voice that was in the music came no more to the Pilgrim inThe Quiet Room. Without the Temple the tall trees were still-still andsilent were the sweet-voiced birds. The sunlight and shadow fairies haddanced to the ends of the lanes of gold--danced to the very ends andwere gone. The feathery cloud ships in the blue above seemed to lie atanchor, and over the surface of the Beautiful Sea no laughing ripplesran to play on the pebbly beach.

  The Pilgrim arose from his couch, and, going to the open window, looked,and there, in the still, fathomless, depth of the clear water, he saw asin a crystal glass the wonderful city Daybyday with its canals andharbors, its parks and drives, its groves and gardens, its palaces andtemples.

  Then, even as the Pilgrim looked, quickly the Evening Wind sprang up.Again the tall trees rustled their leaves, the cloud ships lifted theiranchors, the waves of the Beautiful Sea ran joyously; the Vision in theDeeps Beneath was gone.

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  AND THE SECOND VOICE WAS THE VOICE OF THE EVENING WIND

  And the Second Voice wasThe Voice of the Evening Wind (see king006.png)]

  It was early twilight when the Pilgrim in The Quiet Room returned to hiscouch and to his meditations.

  Without the Temple, the last of the day was stealing over the rim of theworld into the mysterious realm of the yesterdays. The feathery cloudships no longer floated white in the depth of blue, but with wide flungsails of rose and crimson swept over an ocean of amethyst and gold. Theripples that ran on the Beautiful Sea were edged with yellow and scarletflame, while leaf, and blade, and flower, and bird, and all of theirkind and kin, were singing their evensong. Sweetly, softly, the choralanthem stole through the open window into The Quiet Room.

  And after a little the Pilgrim heard, whispering low, in the twilighthymn, the Voice of the Evening Wind.

  Said the Voice: "To thee, O Hadji, I come from the Boundless Ocean Abovethat begins wherever you are and extends farther away than the farthestpoint your thought can reach. I speak from out the Deeps Beyond. I tellof the Great That May Be. I too am a Voice of Life and mine it is tocontinue for you The Tale of The Uncrowned King."

  And this is the part of the Tale that was told by the Voice of theEvening Wind.

  The twin princes Really-Is and Seemsto-Be, on their good horses Realityand Appearance, journeyed very pleasantly through the Land of Allthetimetoward the City Sometime in the Land of Yettocome. Ever as they went theRoyal travelers saw before them the walls of the city gleaming likepolished silver in the sun, and high above the shining walls the greatpalace or temple that flamed like a ruby flame. Always as they rode thetwo talked gaily, in glad anticipation of the marvels they wouldcertainly see, of the pleasures they would surely find, and of thedelightful adventures that without doubt awaited them. So at last theyarrived at the city gate, which was a gate all scrolled and patternedwith precious gems.

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  Fairer than the dreams of angels, O Hadji, is the City Sometime in theLand of Yettocome. Of such radiant splendors, such dazzling brilliancy,such transcending glory there are yet no words fashioned to tell. It isa city, in the form and manner of its building, of exquisite loveliness,of fairy grace, of towering grandeur. It is a city in the beauty andrichness of its color, all emerald, rose, and purple, all ruby, crimsonand gold.

  As the twin princes of Allthetime rode slowly through the wide jeweledgate and along the noble streets and stately avenues, they exclaimedaloud with delight and wonder at the enchanting beauty of the scene.More than they had heard at home was true. The poorest of the buildingsin Sometime far exceeded in splendor the richest of the palaces inDaybyday; while before the palaces of Sometime, Really-Is and Seemsto-Bestood speechless and amazed. They were fairly drunken with the flashing,flaming, blazing, blinding glory of the sight.

  The people of Sometime, too, were exceeding fair and very charming intheir manner, and they welcomed the princes from Daybyday with a joyouswelcome, answering their questions gladly and escorting them to thepalace of their king. For you must know, O Hadji, that the CitySometime, too, is a Royal City, the home of Lookingahead, who rules overthe Land of Yettocome. And King Lookingahead received his noble visitorswith gladness and had great pleasure, he said, in presenting them to histwo daughters, the princesses of Yettocome, Fancy and Imagination, whowere fairer than any women the princes of Daybyday had ever seen, evenin the loveliest of their dreams.

  For a long happy, happy time Really-Is and Seemsto-Be remained in theCity Sometime. Every day, and every day, with the royal princesses Fancyand Imagination for their guides, they rode or drove through the widestreets and broad avenues, walked in the beautiful gardens, explored theshadowy groves or visited the many palaces. And in this way it was thatthe charming princesses showed to their noble guests all the wonders ofthe Royal City of the Realm of Yettocome, pointing out for them everyday new beauties, finding for them always new pleasures, leading themever to fresh scenes of enchanting loveliness. And in turn the princestold their fair guides many things of their own city, Daybyday, in theLand of Allthetime; of the people with their many temples and their manygods; of their father What-Soever-Youthink and his wise reign. But mostof all did they tell of the wonderful Crown, so very old, so veryvaluable, and how it was a Magic Crown, though no one then knew itsmagic, but knew only that its magic was.

  Thus Really-Is and Seemsto-Be learned that the dwellers in Sometime wereunlike the people of Daybyday in many ways, but in no way more thanthis, that they worshiped one god only, only one. The temple sacred tothis god stood in the very heart of the city, which is the very heart ofthe land, and it was this temple, blazing like a ruby flame high abovethe shining city walls, the princes had seen from the tower of theirpalace home.

  Often, very often did the four young people visit this shrine inSometime with rich offerings to the god, Itmightbe.

  But there came a time at last when, returning from a long ramble throughthe city, Really-Is and Seemsto-Be were met at the palace door by aroyal messenger from home with the word that King What-Soever-Youthinkwas dead, and that the princes must hasten back to Daybyday, whereReally-Is would be crowned with the Magic Crown and become the Ruler ofAllthetime.

  All was hurry and confusion in the palace of Lookingahead as the guestsmade swift preparations for their journey. Quickly the word wentthroughout the city and many charming people came to express regret, tosympathize and to bid the young men good-speed and safe going on theirhomeward way. The princesses, Fancy and Imagination, were very sad atlosing their pleasant companions; and the Chief High Priest of theTemple commanded services and offerings extraordinary to the godItmightbe.

  "And this, O Hadji," whispered the Voice of the Evening Wind, "is all ofThe Tale of The Uncrowned King that is given me to tell."

  The evening song of leaf and blade, and flower and bird, and all theirkind and kin, ceased to come through the open window into The QuietRoom. The low Voice of the Evening Wind no longer whispered to thePilgrim as he lay upon his couch. Without the Temple the eventide waspassing from over the silent land and over the silent sea.

  For a little the Pilgrim waited; then rising from his couch, again hewent to the open window, and lo! in the evening sky he saw the CitySometime in the Land of Yettocome. All the wondrous castles and palaceswere there, marvelous in their beauty, glorious in their splendor,dazzling in their colors of emerald, rose and purple, of ruby, crimsonand gold. From spire and dome, cupola and turret, tower and battlementthe lights flashed and gleamed, while the Pilgrim looked
in wonder andin awe. And high above the city walls, that shone as burnished silver inthe sun, rose the temple flaming like a ruby flame--the temple sacred tothe god Itmightbe.

  Slowly, slowly, the last of the twilight passed. Slowly, the gracefullines, the proud forms, the majestic piles of the city melted--melted,blurred and were lost even as are lost the form and loveliness of a snowflake on the sleeve. Slowly, slowly, the glorious colors faded as fadethe flowers at the touch of frost. The lights went out. The darknesscame. The city that is fairer than an angel's dream was gone.

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