Nono had not started alone on his trip to Stockholm. He had with him a companion as lively as himself. A black companion it was, and with a voice that could vary from the deepest bass to the highest treble, not only at will, but at the word of command. Alas! this companion had a ring in his nose like a heathen islander, though he had been born in a Christian country, and had enjoyed unusual advantages for education. He was accustomed to be washed, and to be dressed on occasion, and he took his food most respectably considering his ancestry. If he were not “learned,” as some of his race had been, he was at least a most accomplished and amusing companion. Nono had tried hard to make his pet a biped; but the creature was not ambitious of being promoted to walking upright like man, though he could stand on two legs as stiffly as any statue, at least for a few moments. He knew he was after all but a little black pig, with a ring in his nose (as a punishment for rooting), and submitted humbly to being led, and tried to obey his master’s least command as far as his intelligence permitted.

When the little black pig had made his appearance at the colonel’s, in the midst of six rose-coloured brothers, everybody had been reminded of Nono among the fair-haired children at the golden house. Frans at once declared that the eccentric pig ought to belong to the little Italian, and the present had been finally made, with all due ceremonies, and an appropriate speech from Frans, which won great applause from the auditors. Blackie then and there received his name, which he had ever since retained, and to which he seemed willing to bring honour.

Nono had made his pet a rustic home of his own, and had resolved from the first that Blackie should be something remarkable. Oke had described to the boy the learned pigs about which he had read, and Nono betook himself in earnest to the education of Blackie, and found his efforts crowned with amazing success.

Karin had looked rather gloomy at first about piggie’s being destined to an exceptional career, but she relented when she saw what innocent merriment he had introduced into the family. Jan was never too tired to laugh as heartily as the boys to see Blackie giving his hard paw to be shaken, or singing or scolding according to the words of command. If the order were “Scold, Blackie!” he scolded to perfection in his grunting way. If it were “Sing, Blackie!” he laid his head sentimentally on one side, and gave a succession of shrill squeals that brought forth from the listeners a glad round of applause. Blackie’s everyday dress was provided by nature, and was dusky of course, but scrupulously brushed a process which he evidently considered an agreeable luxury.

Blackie had been taken to the yearly fair in a red flannel blanket pointed at the edges, that an elephant might have been proud to wear if it had suited his proportions. Nono had exhibited his pet thus attired, and his accomplishments were so well rewarded that Karin received in advance full pay for Blackie’s winter accommodation, to Nono’s infinite satisfaction.

Nono had not thought of taking Blackie as a companion in his pedestrian trip until he was passing the home of his pet, after bidding good-bye to the elders of the family. The traveller had been suddenly struck with the thought that Blackie might chance to serve instead of a long purse for the exigencies of the journey, and it would be best to take him, as private property, to supply the possible needs of the uncertain future.

It may be that it had unconsciously seemed dreary to the little Italian to start out into the great world alone, and that a four-footed friend would be better than none. The plan promised to prove a good one; for Blackie was a companion who, though he said little, required too much attention for his master to have many anxious thoughts. Accomplished as piggie certainly was, he was evidently puzzled as to Nono’s intentions, and constantly suggested in his own way that the walk had been long enough, and it was time to turn back to the golden house. After a sharp contention on this subject, the travellers came in sight of a house which Nono fancied would suit his purpose, for he rightly guessed that Blackie’s appetite had been sharpened by the long walk in the fresh air. Most abundant refreshments for boy and beast were given on the one side, and on the other a whole family had a hearty laugh to promote their own digestion. Blackie could not have done better if he had fully realized the importance of the occasion.

Towards twilight the glad jingling of bells rang out on the air a perfect concert of its kind. A train of sleighs drawn by prancing horses came dashing down a long hill that Nono could see in the distance, as he trudged over a level stretch below. Nono stepped out into the soft snow as the first sleigh was almost upon him, the pace of the horses being prudently slackened at the sight of the uncommon impediment in the road. Nono took off his hat and bowed, while his face gleamed with delight at the pretty display the festal white nets of the horses, and the fur-covered sleighs where the merry party were so comfortably stowed.

When Nono bowed, at a motion from him the pig did the same, standing in his very best way, if not in most graceful court fashion. The little dark figures on the background of snow brought forth a cheery peal of laughter, as sleigh after sleigh passed by with nods and shouts of approval. Some self-sacrificing lover of children first managed to get his hand into his pocket under the wraps; so came, by example, from one and another a small rain of copper, with now and then a silver bit for company. Nono and Blackie plunging round in the snow to pick up the treasures (Blackie hoping for a dainty morsel, and Nono eager that nothing should be lost) made a funny little roadside scene that sent the gay party on their way even more merry than before.

Nono was not sure that he had gathered up all the results of this unexpected exhibition, but he soon felt obliged to resume his march, as the night was coming on rapidly. Blackie introduced him pleasantly to a little shoemaker, who came up from behind and joined the two pedestrians. Of course he asked Nono all manner of questions, and got true replies, as to where he was going and why. The hardy shoemaker had a leather apron over his heart, but the heart in his broad breast was honest and kind. Nono and Blackie were taken into his poor cottage, and were free to sleep in its one room, where he and his wife and two children, and the leather and the shoes to be mended, and much more of a nondescript nature, were huddled together.

In the morning Nono was assured that one day’s more walk would bring him near to Stockholm. That was a trifle, the shoemaker said. He had walked as far as that to church every Sunday, when he was young, and lived up in the north, where the snow was not to be sneezed at, and the night lasted almost all day, as he inconsistently expressed it.

As to visiting the princess, the shoemaker assured Nono that was sheer madness. A boy like him would hardly dare to look any of the royal family in the face, he was certain. He had never heard anything particular about the princess, to be sure, but high folks didn’t like to be bothered. He advised Nono to show Blackie in the streets. That might bring him a bit of money; and if worst came to worst there was begging, not a bad business in Stockholm he had heard. Money was to be made that way, no doubt, by such a chap as Nono, who had such a pretty story to tell.

The shoemaker meant no harm, after his way of looking at life; but Nono drew himself up straight, and said he believed he should see the princess, he knew about her, and she was almost an angel. He might have added, if he had spoken his thoughts, that he felt acquainted with her after a fashion, and that, further, he hoped he should never come to begging while he was able and willing to work. Nono could pay for food and lodging for himself and Blackie without drawing on Jan’s coppers, and he set off full of courage. The shoemaker and his wife had been kind, and he thanked them in his heart, as he had with his lips, at parting, but he felt more and more grateful for his home in the golden house. Nobody ever swore there, or tipped up a black bottle with something strong in it. And how clean it was always, and how cosy!

The shoemaker’s discouraging words had, however, been for Nono much like the chilling mist that surrounded him when he started on his second day’s journey. He suddenly thought of “the lion and the bear” and “this Philistine,” and he was again convinced that there would be a blessing on his undertaking, and the dear princess would prove to be no Philistine, but just what he had fancied her.

As Nono drew nearer to Stockholm the cottagers seemed to be of a rougher sort; and it was well that he had money to buy what he needed, for nobody seemed to care to look at him or his piggie. When he tried to tell his story about Karin and little Decima, and that he was going to see the princess, he heard only rude shouts of derision or hard words in reply. He got, however, leave to pass the night in a stable, with Blackie beside him, with the parting good-night warning not to steal off with the lent blanket in the morning. It would not have been easy to slip off unobserved, for the stable was locked and barred, and Nono was as safely imprisoned as if he had been in the common jail. The friendly old cart-horse taught him no harm, and mumbled with contentment as it cheerfully ate its humble fare, peering now and then towards the dark corner where Blackie sang and scolded, as if for the special entertainment of the host in the stable.

By making payment in advance in the morning Nono got a glass of milk to take with his hard bread, and Blackie had the same fare, which put him in a good humour for the day.

Nono was surprised to find that he felt a little shy about entering the city, when he saw the spires shining in the morning sun and the houses rising in close lines about them. The mist had fairly rolled away. All nature was bright, but Nono had too solemn a sense of the greatness and the extraordinary nature of his undertaking to be in anything but a serious mood.

He was in the outskirts of Stockholm, when some big apprentice boys who were on their way to their work hailed him as he was in the midst of a contention with Blackie, who seemed convinced that, with all his accomplishments, he was not fit for city life, and it was best for him to stay in the rural districts. The apprentices offered to help Nono, which they did substantially, if subduing Blackie were the matter in question. Two of them took him in their arms and held him firmly, while Nono was ordered to tell honestly how that stylish little pig came into his possession. Nono said simply that it was given to him, and then hurried to tell the story of his errand. He was afraid of the rough, dirty fellows, who had a wild, reckless look about them; and they so interrupted him by loud laughs unpleasant to hear, that Nono got confused, and really gave no very clear account of himself.

The apprentices, putting on an air of mock respect, declared it was quite impossible to go to see the princess with that little pig as a companion, genteel a pig as he seemed to be. They could take care of him, and Nono could call for him on the way home. They lived, they said, in a house at which they pointed in the distant fields. Then they started off in that direction as fast as their feet could carry them, with Blackie held fast in the strong arms of the tallest of the party.

It was in vain that Nono called upon the retiring enemy. They shook their fists at him and laughed mockingly, and called out that they would “give it to him” if he undertook to follow them now. He could call for piggie when he had seen the princess; and again they pointed out the house towards which they seemed to be hastening.

Nono felt inclined to sit down and cry by the roadside. It suddenly struck him that these were Philistines, quite of the scoffing, Goliath sort; but he was not to be discouraged by them, not he! It would have been rather awkward to appear before the princess, in her beautiful home, with Blackie beside him. There was truth in that at least. Perhaps those wild fellows meant well after all. They might have been just teasing him, as “the little boys” teased Decima sometimes, though they really loved her at the bottom. Yes, Decima! he must not forget that it was for her he had undertaken it all. In such a good cause no “Philistines” should make him afraid. He was so far safely on his way. He must thank God and take courage. And he did.