I

Once upon a time there was a lonely island in a distant sea where
lived the Kings and Queens, the Aces and the Knaves, in the Kingdom of
Cards. The Tens and Nines, with the Twos and Threes, and all the other
members, had long ago settled there also. But these were not twice-born
people, like the famous Court Cards.

The Ace, the King, and the Knave were the three highest castes. The
fourth Caste was made up of a mixture of the lower Cards. The Twos and
Threes were lowest of all. These inferior Cards were never allowed to
sit in the same row with the great Court Cards.

Wonderful indeed were the regulations and rules of that island kingdom.
The particular rank of each individual had been settled from time
immemorial. Every one had his own appointed work, and never did
anything else. An unseen hand appeared to be directing them wherever
they went, --according to the Rules.

No one in the Kingdom of Cards had any occasion to think: no one had any
need to come to any decision: no one was ever required to debate any new
subject. The citizens all moved along in a listless groove without
speech. When they fell, they made no noise. They lay down on their
backs, and gazed upward at the sky with each prim feature firmly fixed
for ever.

There was a remarkable stillness in the Kingdom of Cards. Satisfaction
and contentment were complete in all their rounded wholeness. There was
never any uproar or violence. There was never any excitement or
enthusiasm.

The great ocean, crooning its lullaby with one unceasing melody, lapped
the island to sleep with a thousand soft touches of its wave's white
hands. The vast sky, like the outspread azure wings of the brooding
mother-bird, nestled the island round with its downy plume. For on the
distant horizon a deep blue line betokened another shore. But no sound
of quarrel or strife could reach the Island of Cards, to break its calm
repose.

II

In that far-off foreign land. across the sea, there lived a young
Prince whose mother was a sorrowing queen. This queen had fallen from
favour, and was living with her only son on the seashore. The Prince
passed his childhood alone and forlorn, sitting by his forlorn mother,
weaving the net of his big desires. He longed to go in search of the
Flying Horse, the Jewel in the Cobra's hood, the Rose of Heaven, the
Magic Roads, or to find where the Princess Beauty was sleeping in the
Ogre's castle over the thirteen rivers and across the seven seas.

>From the Son of the Merchant at school the young Prince learnt the
stories of foreign kingdoms. From the Son of the Kotwal he learnt the
adventures of the Two Genii of the Lamp. And when the rain came beating
down, and the clouds covered the sky, he would sit on the threshold
facing the sea, and say to his sorrowing mother: "Tell me, mother, a
story of some very far-off land."

And his mother would tell him an endless tale she had heard in her
childhood of a wonderful country beyond the sea where dwelt the Princess
Beauty. And the heart of the young Prince would become sick with
longing, as he sat on the threshold, looking out on the ocean, listening
to his mother's wonderful story, while the rain outside came beating
down and the grey clouds covered the sky.

One day the Son of the Merchant came to the Prince, and said boldly:
"Comrade, my studies are over. I am now setting out on my travels to
seek my fortunes on the sea. I have come to bid you good-bye."

The Prince said; "I will go with you."

And the Son of Kotwal said also: "Comrades, trusty and true, you will
not leave me behind. I also will be your companion."

Then the young Prince said to his sorrowing mother; "Mother, I am now
setting out on my travels to seek my fortune. When I come back once
more, I shall surely have found some way to remove all your sorrow."

So the Three Companions set out on their travels together. In the
harbour were anchored the twelve ships of the merchant, and the Three
Companions got on board. The south wind was blowing, and the twelve
ships sailed away, as fast as the desires which rose in the Prince's
breast.

At the Conch Shell Island they filled one ship with conchs. At the
Sandal Wood Island they filled a second ship with sandal-wood, and at
the Coral Island they filled a third ship with coral.

Four years passed away, and they filled four more ships, one with
ivory, one with musk, one with cloves, and one with nutmegs.

But when these ships were all loaded a terrible tempest arose. The
ships were all of them sunk, with their cloves and nutmeg, and musk and
ivory, and coral and sandal-wood and conchs. But the ship with the
Three Companions struck on an island reef, buried them safe ashore, and
itself broke in pieces.

This was the famous Island of Cards, where lived the Ace and King and
Queen and Knave, with the Nines and Tens and all the other Members--
according to the Rules.

III

Up till now there had been nothing to disturb that island stillness. No
new thing had ever happened. No discussion had ever been held.

And then, of a sudden, the Three Companions appeared, thrown up by the
sea,--and the Great Debate began. There were three main points of
dispute.

First, to what caste should these unclassed strangers belong?
Should they rank with the Court Cards? Or were they merely lower-caste
people, to be ranked with the Nines and Tens ? No precedent could be
quoted to decide this weighty question.

Secondly, what was their clan? Had they the fairer hue and bright
complexion of the Hearts, or was theirs the darker complexion of the
Clubs? Over this question there were interminable disputes. The whole
marriage system of the island, with its intricate regulations, would
depend on its nice adjustment.

Thirdly, what food should they take? With whom should they live and
sleep ? And should their heads be placed south-west, north-west, or
only north-east? In all the Kingdom of Cards a series of problems so
vital and critical had never been debated before.

But the Three Companions grew desperately hungry. They had to get food
in some way or other. So while this debate went on, with its
interminable silence and pauses, and while the Aces called their own
meeting, and formed themselves into a Committee, to find some obsolete
dealing with the question, the Three Companions themselves were eating
all they could find, and drinking out of every vessel, and breaking all
regulations.

Even the Twos and Threes were shocked at this outrageous behaviour. The
Threes said; "Brother Twos, these people are openly shameless!" And the
Twos said: "Brother Threes, they are evidently of lower caste than
ourselves! "After their meal was over, the Three Companions went for a
stroll in the city.

When they saw the ponderous people moving in their dismal processions
with prim and solemn faces, then the Prince turned to the Son of the
Merchant and the Son of the Kotwal, and threw back his head, and gave
one stupendous laugh.

Down Royal Street and across Ace Square and along the Knave Embankment
ran the quiver of this strange, unheard-of laughter, the laughter
that, amazed at itself, expired in the vast vacuum of silence.

The Son of the Kotwal and the Son of the Merchant were chilled through
to the bone by the ghost-like stillness around them. They turned to
the Prince, and said: "Comrade, let us away. Let us not stop for a
moment in this awful land of ghosts."

But the Prince said: "Comrades, these people resemble men, so I am going
to find out, by shaking them upside down and outside in, whether they
have a single drop of warm living blood left in their veins.

IV

The days passed one by one, and the placid existence of the Island went
on almost without a ripple. The Three Companions obeyed no rules nor
regulations. They never did anything correctly either in sitting or
standing or turning themselves round or lying on their back. On the
contrary, wherever they saw these things going on precisely and exactly
according to the Rules, they gave way to inordinate laughter. They
remained unimpressed altogether by the eternal gravity of those eternal
regulations.

One day the great Court Cards came to the Son of the Kotwal and the Son
of the Merchant and the Prince.

"Why," they asked slowly, "are you not moving according to the
Rules?"

The Three Companions answered: "Because that is our Ichcha (wish)."

The great Court Cards with hollow, cavernous voices, as if slowly
awakening from an age-long dream, said together: "Ich-cha! And pray who
is Ich-cha?"

They could not understand who Ichcha was then, but the whole island was
to understand it by-and-by. The first glimmer of light passed the
threshold of their minds when they found out, through watching the
actions of the Prince, that they might move in a straight line in an
opposite direction from the one in which they had always gone before.
Then they made another startling discovery, that there was another
side to the Cards which they had never yet noticed with attention. This
was the beginning of the change.

Now that the change had begun, the Three Companions were able to
initiate them more and more deeply into the mysteries of Ichcha. The
Cards gradually became aware that life was not bound by regulations.
They began to feel a secret satisfaction in the kingly power of choosing
for themselves.

But with this first impact of Ichcha the whole pack of cards began to
totter slowly, and then tumble down to the ground. The scene was like
that of some huge python awaking from a long sleep, as it slowly unfolds
its numberless coils with a quiver that runs through its whole frame.

V

Hitherto the Queens of Spades and Clubs and Diamonds and Hearts had
remained behind curtains with eyes that gazed vacantly into space, or
else remained fixed upon the ground.

And now, all of a sudden, on an afternoon in spring the Queen of Hearts
from the balcony raised her dark eyebrows for a moment, and cast a
single glance upon the Prince from the corner of her eye.

"Great God," cried the Prince, "I thought they were all painted images.
But I am wrong. They are women after all."

Then the young Prince called to his side his two Companions, and said in
a meditative voice; "My comrades ! There is a charm about these ladies
that I never noticed before. When I saw that glance of the Queen's
dark, luminous eyes, brightening with new emotion, it seemed to me like
the first faint streak of dawn in a newly created world."

The two Companions smiled a knowing smile, and said: "Is that really so,
Prince?"

And the poor Queen of Hearts from that day went from bad to worse. She
began to forget all rules in a truly scandalous manner. If, for
instance, her place in the row was beside the Knave, she suddenly found
herself quite accidentally standing beside the Prince instead. At this,
the Knave, with motionless face and solemn voice, would say: "Queen, you
have made a mistake."

And the poor Queen of Hearts' red cheeks would get redder than ever.
But the Prince would come gallantly to her rescue and say: "No! There
is no mistake. From to-day I am going to be Knave!"

Now it came to pass that, while every one was trying to correct the
improprieties of the guilty Queen of Hearts, they began to make mistakes
themselves. The Aces found themselves elbowed out by the Kings. The
Kings got muddled up with the Knaves. The Nines and Tens assumed airs
as though they belonged to the Great Court Cards. The Twos and Threes
were found secretly taking the places specially resented for the Fours
and Fives. Confusion had never been so confounded before.

Many spring seasons had come and gone in that Island of Cards. The
Kokil, the bird of Spring, had sung its song year after year. But it
had never stirred the blood as it stirred it now. In days gone by the
sea had sung its tireless melody. But, then, it had proclaimed only
the inflexible monotony of the Rule. And suddenly its waves were
telling, through all their flashing light and luminous shade and myriad
voices, the deepest yearnings of the heart of love!

VI

Where are vanished now their prim, round, regular, complacent features?
Here is a face full of love-sick longing. Here is a heart heating wild
with regrets. Here is a mind racked sore with doubts. Music and
sighing, and smiles and tears, are filling the air. Life is throbbing;
hearts are breaking; passions are kindling.

Every one is now thinking of his own appearance, and comparing himself
with others. The Ace of Clubs is musing to himself, that the King of
Spades may be just passably good-looking. "But," says he, "when I walk
down the street you have only to see how people's eyes turn towards me."
The King of Spades is saying; "Why on earth is that Ace of Clubs always
straining his neck and strutting about like a peacock? He imagines all
the Queens are dying of love for him, while the real fact is --"Here he
pauses, and examines his face in the glass.

But the Queens were the worst of all. They began to spend all their
time in dressing themselves up to the Nines. And the Nines would become
their hopeless and abject slaves. But their cutting remarks about one
another were more shocking still.

So the young men would sit listless on the leaves under the trees,
lolling with outstretched limbs in the forest shade. And the young
maidens, dressed in pale-blue robes, would come walking accidentally to
the same shade of the same forest by the same trees, and turn their eyes
as though they saw no one there, and look as though they came out to see
nothing at all. And then one young man more forward than the rest in a
fit of madness would dare to go near to a maiden in blue. But, as he
drew near, speech would forsake him. He would stand there tongue-tied
and foolish, and the favourable moment would pass.

The Kokil birds were singing in the boughs overhead. The mischievous
South wind was blowing; it disarrayed the hair, it whispered in the ear,
and stirred the music in the blood. The leaves of the trees were
murmuring with rustling delight. And the ceaseless sound of the ocean
made all the mute longings of the heart of man and maid surge backwards
and forwards on the full springtide of love.

The Three Companions had brought into the dried-up channels of the
Kingdom of Cards the full flood-tide of a new life.

VII

And, though the tide was full, there -was a pause as though the
rising waters would not break into foam but remain suspended for
ever. There were no outspoken words, only a cautious going forward one
step and receding two. All seemed busy heaping up their unfulfilled
desires like castles in the air, or fortresses of sand. They were pale
and speechless, their eyes were burning, their lips trembling with
unspoken secrets.

The Prince saw what was wrong. He summoned every one on the Island and
said: "Bring hither the flutes and the cymbals, the pipes and drums.
Let all be played together, and raise loud shouts of rejoicing. For the
Queen of Hearts this very night is going to choose her Mate !"

So the Tens and Nines began to blow on their flutes and pipes; the
Eights and Sevens played on their sackbuts and viols; and even the Twos
and Threes began to beat madly on their drums.

When this tumultous gust of music came, it swept away at one blast all
those sighings and mopings. And then what a torrent of laughter and
words poured forth! There were daring proposals and locking refusals,
and gossip and chatter, and jests and merriment. It was like the
swaying and shaking, and rustling and soughing, in a summer gale, of a
million leaves and branches in the depth of the primeval forest.

But the Queen of Hearts, in a rose-red robe, sat silent in the shadow of
her secret bower, and listened to the great uproarious sound of music
and mirth, that came floating towards her. She shut her eyes, and
dreamt her dream of lore. And when she opened them she found the Prince
seated on the ground before her gazing up at her face. And she covered
her eyes with both hands, and shrank back quivering with an inward
tumult of joy.

And the Prince passed the whole day alone, walking by the side of the
surging sea. He carried in his mind that startled look, that shrinking
gesture of the Queen, and his heart beat high with hope.

That night the serried, gaily-dressed ranks of young men and maidens
waited with smiling faces at the Palace Gates. The Palace Hall was
lighted with fairy lamps and festooned with the flowers of spring.
Slowly the Queen of Hearts entered, and the whole assembly rose to greet
her. With a jasmine garland in her hand, she stood before the Prince
with downcast eyes. In her lowly bashfulness she could hardly raise the
garland to the neck of the Mate she had chosen. But the Prince bowed
his head, and the garland slipped to its place. The assembly of youths
and maidens had waited her choice with eager, expectant hush. And when
the choice was made, the whole vast concourse rocked and swayed with a
tumult of wild delight. And the sound of their shouts was heard in
every part of the island, and by ships far out at sea. Never had such a
shout been raised in the Kingdom of Cards before.

And they carried the Prince and his Bride, and seated them on the
throne, and crowned them then and there in the Ancient Island of Cards.

And the sorrowing Mother Queen, on the 'far-off island shore on the
other side of the sea, came sailing to her son's new kingdom in a ship
adorned with gold.

And the citizens are no longer regulated according to the Rules, but are
good or bad, or both, according to their Ichcha.