The Ogre of Oglefort

Ivo had the sense then to go quickly up to the attic and put himself to bed. But he was far too happy to go to sleep. Tomorrow, the day when he would have sat down to claggy meat and lumpy custard, he would be setting off on an amazing adventure.

Ostland. . . . He had heard of it, of course, an island as big as England and Scotland and Wales all put together, afloat on a remote and mysterious ocean. Ivo had longed to see it, poring over maps in the encyclopedia, but he had never dreamed that he would make the journey. And he was going to rescue a young girl from dreadful danger! He could see her now, kneeling in terror before the great beast that threatened her. It was a pity she was a princess—Ivo did not approve of people being royal—but it was not her fault; one cannot choose one’s parents.

And all this because a toad called Gladys had said no.

CHAPTER6MIRELLA

Ostland is an unexpected place. The south of the island is peaceful. It has a string of pretty towns along the coast and the biggest of these, which is called Waterfield, is the capital. In Waterfield you can find everything you can find in London or Dublin—or even in New York. There are the Houses of Parliament and the law courts and theaters and a zoo—and because the town lies by the sea there is a harbor for big boats and a marina for smaller ones.

If one goes farther north toward the center of the island one comes to rich farmland. Here there are orchards and studs for breeding racehorses and beech woods carpeted with bluebells.

But the very north of the country is different. Completely different. There was an earthquake in Ostland many hundreds of thousands of years ago, and it made a deep cleft across the northern tip of the island which cut it off from the rest of the island. On the far side of the cleft the land is rocky and wild and almost empty. At least it is empty of ordinary people and ordinary houses. But in the folds of the dark hills are caves and castles and tunnels, and the people who live there would not be found in any telephone book. This part of the island is only connected to the rest of the island by a narrow bridge across a ravine which is hundreds of feet deep. But even if the bridge were wider and the ravine less deep, the people from the friendly civilized part of Ostland would not have tried to cross it. One of the first things the children of Ostland heard from their nursemaids and their parents was what would happen to a child foolish enough to try and cross the bridge to the north. Sometimes their legs would be torn off and thrown into the ravine, or their eyes would be pecked out. And if they got across there would be all sorts of delightful people waiting for them, ready to turn them into bluebottles or nail them to trees or pull them down into fiery pits.

Although the citizens of Ostland spoke English, they refused to have a monarchy. They didn’t want to have a king and queen ruling over them and bossing them about.

All the same, there was a palace in Waterfield—a big one which was lived in by a royal family called the Montefinos. They had come to the island many years ago, and nobody minded because a palace is a colorful thing to have and it was good for tourists to have something to photograph. There were also a few castles scattered around the south where dukes and princelings spent their time hunting or gardening or playing whist.

Though the Montefinos did not actually rule over the country, they were very grand. They kept their own sentries and bodyguards and had over a hundred servants. They drove about in carriages with their crest on the door, and they waved graciously to the people with their white-gloved hands. They opened bazaars and had their portraits painted and gave balls and rode Thoroughbred horses in the park with their grooms cantering behind them.

The Montefinos had three daughters. Princess Sidony was the eldest, then came Princess Angeline—and a long way behind them came the youngest, Princess Mirella.

Sidony and Angeline were pretty, obedient girls who liked doing all the things that royal people do, but Mirella did not. She was a misfit from the start. Mirella did not look like a princess. Her eyes were black and her hair was straight and her ears stuck out. Mirella would not ride in a closed carriage and wave to the people; she said driving made her sick. She would not have her portrait painted or go and play with children who were “suitable.”