"At present," replied Inga, uneasily, "I must refuse your kind invitation."
"There will be feasting, and dancing girls, and games and fireworks," said the Queen, speaking as if eager to entice him and at each word coming a step nearer to where he stood.
"I could not enjoy them while my poor parents are slaves," said the boy, sadly.
"Are you sure of that?" asked Queen Cor, and by that time she was close beside Inga. Suddenly she leaned forward and threw both of her long arms around Inga's body, holding him in a grasp that was like a vise.
Now Rinkitink sprang forward to rescue his friend, but Cor kicked out viciously with her foot and struck the King squarely on his stomach -- a very tender place to be kicked, especially if one is fat. Then, still hugging Inga tightly, the Queen called aloud:
"I've got him! Bring in the ropes."
Instantly the four men she had brought with her sprang into the room and bound the boy hand and foot.
Next they seized Rinkitink, who was still rubbing his stomach, and bound him likewise.
With a laugh of wicked triumph, Queen Cor now led her captives down to the boat and returned with them to Coregos.
Great was the astonishment of King Gos and his warriors when they saw that the mighty Prince of Pingaree, who had put them all to flight, had been captured by a woman. Cowards as they were, they now crowded around the boy and jeered at him, and some of them would have struck him had not the Queen cried out:
"Hands off! He is my prisoner, remember not yours."
"Well, Cor, what are you going to do with him?" inquired King Gos.
"I shall make him my slave, that he may amuse my idle hours. For he is a pretty boy, and gentle, although he did frighten all of you big warriors so terribly."
The King scowled at this speech, not liking to be ridiculed, but he said nothing more. He and his men returned that same day to Regos, after restoring the bridge of boats. And they held a wild carnival of rejoicing, both in the King's palace and in the city, although the poor people of Regos who were not warriors were all sorry that the kind young Prince had been captured by his enemies and could rule them no longer.
When her unwelcome guests had all gone back to Regos and the Queen was alone in her palace, she ordered Inga and Rinkitink brought before her and their bonds removed. They came sadly enough, knowing they were in serious straits and at the mercy of a cruel mistress.
Inga had taken counsel of the White Pearl, which had advised him to bear up bravely under his misfortune, promising a change for the better very soon. With this promise to comfort him, Inga faced the Queen with a dignified bearing that indicated both pride and courage.
"Well, youngster," said she, in a cheerful tone because she was pleased with her success, "you played a clever trick on my poor husband and frightened him badly, but for that prank I am inclined to forgive you.
Hereafter I intend you to be my page, which means that you must fetch and carry for me at my will. And let me advise you to obey my every whim without question or delay, for when I am angry I become ugly, and when I am ugly someone is sure to feel the lash. Do you understand me?"
Inga bowed, but made no answer. Then she turned to Rinkitink and said:
"As for you, I cannot decide how to make you useful to me, as you are altogether too fat and awkward to work in the fields. It may be, however, that I can use you as a pincushion.
"What!" cried Rinkitink in horror, "would you stick pins into the King of Gilgad?"
"Why not?" returned Queen Cor. "You are as fat as a pincushion, as you must yourself admit, and whenever I needed a pin I could call you to me." Then she laughed at his frightened look and asked: "By the way, are you ticklish?"
This was the question Rinkitink had been dreading. He gave a moan of despair and shook his head.
"I should love to tickle the bottom of your feet with a feather," continued the cruel woman. "Please take off your shoes."
"Oh, your Majesty!" pleaded poor Rinkitink, "I beg you to allow me to amuse you in some other way. I can dance, or I can sing you a song."
"Well," she answered, shaking with laughter, "you may sing a song -- if it be a merry one. But you do not seem in a merry mood."
"I feel merry -- indeed, Your Majesty, I do!" protested Rinkitink, anxious to escape the tickling.
But even as he professed to "feel merry" his round, red face wore an expression of horror and anxiety that was realty comical.
"Sing, then!" commanded Queen Cor, who was greatly amused.
Rinkitink gave a sigh of relief and after clearing his throat and trying to repress his sobs he began to sing this song-gently, at first, but finally roaring it out at the top of his voice:
"Oh!
There was a Baby Tiger lived in a men-ag-er-ie-- Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy -- they wouldn't set him free;
And ev'rybody thought that he was gentle as could be-- Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy -- Ba-by Ti-ger!
"Oh!
They patted him upon his head and shook him by the paw-- Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy -- he had a bone to gnaw;
But soon he grew the biggest Tiger that you ever saw-- Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy -- what a Ti-ger!
"Oh!
One day they came to pet the brute and he began to fight-- Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy-how he did scratch and bite!
He broke the cage and in a rage he darted out of sight-- Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy was a Ti-ger!"
"And is there a moral to the song?" asked Queen Cor, when King Rinkitink had finished his song with great spirit.
"If there is," replied Rinkitink, "it is a warning not to fool with tigers."
The little Prince could not help smiling at this shrewd answer, but Queen Cor frowned and gave the King a sharp look.
"Oh," said she; "I think I know the difference between a tiger and a lapdog. But I'll bear the warning in mind, just the same."
For, after all her success in capturing them, she was a little afraid of these people who had once displayed such extraordinary powers.
