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24 - Baron Trump's Marvellous Underground Journey · Classic Adventure Books Library

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  Chapter twenty four. Some few things concerning the dear little Princess Schneebulet, how
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  she and I became fast friends, and how one day she conducted Bulgar and
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  me into her favorite grotto to see the little man with the frozen smile something
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  about him. What came of my having looked upon him quite fully described.
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  At the time of Bulger's and my arrival in the land of the Culti Corps,
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  the Princess Schnebulet was about fifteen years of age, and I must say
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  that rarely had it been my good fortune to make the acquaintance of such a
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  sweet, tempered, lovable little creature. She flitted about the ice palace like
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  a beam of sunlight, and there was nothing of the spoiled child about her.
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  Although a bit mischievous at times, her voice was as full of music
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  as a skylark's. And it was not many days before she and I had
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  become the best of friends in the world. Now you must know, dear
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  friends, that according to the law of the Coulti Corps, a princess is
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  left absolutely free to choose her own husband. And his frigid Majesty was very
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  anxious that Schneebule should pick hers out as soon as possible. Moreover, the
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  law of the land gave her perfect freedom to choose a husband of high or
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  low degree, provided he was young enough. The way in which a Culti
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  court princess was required to make known her preference was to press a kiss upon
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  the cheek of the young man whom she might settle. Upon This ennobled him
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  at once, and he became the heir apparent to the throne of Ice,
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  and entitled to sit on its steps until he should be crowned king. Now
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  his frigid majesty was delighted to see this friendship spring up between Schneebulay and me,
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  for he had hoped to make use of my influence to bring her to
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  set the necessary kiss on some youth's cheek. Before I took my departure from
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  the cold kingdom of the Cultiqourts, I gave him the word of a nobleman
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  that I would do my best to carry out his wishes. With Schnebuley for
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  a guide, Bulgar and I often went for walks through the splendid ice grottos
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  of her father's kingdom, selecting days when the sunlight of the outer world poured
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  strongest through the mighty lens set in the side of the mountain. Then these
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  grottos took on a splendor that my poor tongue is powerless to describe. Their
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  crystal mazes glittered as if their walls were set with massive jewels, most wonderfully
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  cut and polished, and as if their ceilings were fretted with gems so peerless
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  that all the gold of the upper world would fall far short of pain for
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  them. Here there and everywhere, the skill of the Colti corpse had carved
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  and chiseled graceful flights of steps, broad landings with majestic columns, and winding
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  corridors, lined with long rows of statues, single and group wise, and
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  ever and anon, the visitor came upon a terrace, where, seated upon
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  a fur covered divan, he might look out upon the bewildering beauty of King
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  Giladus's icy domains, arch touching arch, and domes springing from dome. While
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  over and above all, through the gigantic lens in its granite a mile above
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  our heads, streamed a flood of glorious sunlight, lighting up this world within
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  a world with a radiance so grand and so complete as to seem to be
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  a sun of a far greater splendor than the one that warmed the upper world
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  and bathed it in so many gorgeous hues at morn and eve. Hardly a
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  day went by now that the Princess of the Colti Corpse did not surprise either
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  Bulgar or me with some gift or other. To tell the truth, dear
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  friends, although my Russian coat was fur trimmed, yet I began to feel
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  the need of warmer garments after a weak sojourn in the icy domain of King
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  Gelidas, and I think Schneebuie must have hurt my teeth chattering. For one
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  morning, upon entering the Palace of Ice, I was delighted to be presented
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  with a full suit of fur, precisely similar to the one worn by King
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  Gelidas himself. Nor was Bulgar forgotten by the loving little Princess, for with
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  her own hands she had knitted him a blanket of the softest wool, which
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  she belted so snugly around his body and tied so tightly round his neck,
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  And henceforth he felt perfectly comfortable in the chill air of the home of the
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  Colt Corpse. One day, the Princess Snebule said to me, Oh,
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  come, little Baron, cut to my favorite grotto. Now that the sun's
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  rays are bright within it, there shalt thou see a wonder, a wonder,
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  Princess Schnebuley, it's little Baron in wonder, She repeated, the little
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  man with a frozen smile, Little man with the frozen smile, I echoed,
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  Come and see, Come and see, little Baron, cried sneebu Ley,
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  hurrying on ahead. In a few moments we had reached the grotto and
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  bounded into it, with the princess leading the way. Suddenly she halted in
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  front of a magnificent block of crystal ice, clear as polished glass, and
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  cried out, there, look, there is the little man with a frozen
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  smile. Even now, as the thought of that moment comes over me,
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  I feel something of the thrill of half fear, half joy, as my
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  eyes fell upon the little creature shut in that superb block of ice himself,
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  a part of it himself, its heart, its contents, its mystery,
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  there in its center, in easy posture, with wide open eyes, and
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  with what might be called a smile upon his face, that is a glint
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  of kindliness and affection. In its strange eyes, with their overhanging brows,
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  sat a small animal of the chimpanzee race. He had possibly been asleep when
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  the icy flood struck him, dreaming of beautiful trees bending beneath purple fruit,
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  of cloudless skies above, and a coral beach below. And death had come
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  to him so quickly that he had become a brother to this block of ice
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  while the happy dream was still in his thoughts. It was wonderful, it
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  was more than wonderful. Spell Bound by the strange spectacle, I stood there,
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  I know not how long, with my eyes looking into his. At
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  last, Schneeblet's voice aroused me. Ha ha, she laughed, Look,
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  little Baron Bulgars, trying to his poor dead brother. In truth, Vulgar
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  did have his nose pressed firmly against the block of ice in his effort to
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  scent the strange animal imprisoned in that crystal cell, so near and yet so
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  far beyond the reach of his kenscent well, little Baron cried, Schneebu leay,
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  did I not speak truly? Have I not shown thee the little man
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  with the frozen smile? Indeed, thou hast fair princess, was my reply,
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  And I cannot tell THEE how grateful I am to THEE for having done
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  so. Then, as she plucked me by the sleeve, I pleaded,
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  nay, gentle Schneebuley, not yet, not yet, let me bide a
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  little longer. The little man, with a frozen smile, seems to beg
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  me not to go. I can almost imagine that I hear him whisper,
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  Oh, little baron, break open the crystal cell of my prison, and
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  take me with THEE back to the world of sunshine, back to the land
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  of the orange tree, where the soft, warm winds used to rock me
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  to sleep in the cradle of the swaying boughs, while the wise and watchful
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  patriarch of our flock stood guard over us all. Schnebuley's big, round gray
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  eyes filled with DearS at these words, would that he were alive, little
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  baron, she murmured, and that I could give him some of my happiness
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  to pay him back for all the long years he has been spending in his
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  icy prison. In a few moments, Schneberley took me by the hand and
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  led me away from the great block of ice with its silent prisoner. My
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  heart was very heavy, and both Schneberley and Bulgar did their utmost to divert
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  me, but al to no purpose. Leaving the princess at the portal of
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  the palace, I went to my dwelling, which was ablaze with the soft
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  glow of its alabaster lamps, and there I found a beautiful new pelt spread
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  over my divan, a new gift from King Gelidus. But I could take
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  no pleasure in it. My thoughts were all with a little man with a
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  frozen smile, locked in the icy embrace of that crystal mold, which,
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  in its cold irony, let him seem to be so free and unfettered,
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  and yet held him in such vice like grip. After a while I dismissed
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  my serving people and laid me down for the night with my dear Bulgar nestled
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  against my breast. But I could not sleep. All night long, those
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  strange eyes, with their uncanny glint followed me about, pleading strong but silent,
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  for me to come again, for me to soften my heart like a
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  child of the sunshine, that I was to shatter his crystal dungeon and set
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  him loose, to bear him away from the icy domain of the colti corpse,
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  out into the warm air of the upper world. What was I dreaming
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  about? Was he not dead? Had not his spirit left his body thousands
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  and thousands of years ago? Why should I let such wild thoughts vex my
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  mind? What good would come of it? None? None, whatsoever?
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  I was a reasonable creature. I must not give lodgment within my brain to
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  such silly ideas. The little man with a frozen smile had been through all
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  most playful fate, laid away in a beautiful tomb. I must not disturb
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  it. No doubt in his lifetime he had been the pet of a noble
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  manner. But to the Northland from some sunny clime by master of powerful argacy.
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  Let him rest in peace. I must not dare to mar the beauty
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  of his crystal tomb, so gloriously transparent. I was even sorry that Schneeberly
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  had led me into her beautiful grotto, and resolved to go thither no more.
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  What poor, weak creatures we are, so fertile in good resolutions,
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  and yet so unfruitful of results, planting whole acres with fair promises. But
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  when the tender shoots pierced the ground, turning our back upon the crop as
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  if it didn't belong to us. End of Chapter twenty four