diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17175-8.txt | 5977 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17175-8.zip | bin | 0 -> 108340 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17175-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 443739 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17175-h/17175-h.htm | 6176 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17175-h/images/4.png | bin | 0 -> 44496 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17175-h/images/5.png | bin | 0 -> 43711 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17175-h/images/6.png | bin | 0 -> 42078 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17175-h/images/7.png | bin | 0 -> 39533 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17175-h/images/8.png | bin | 0 -> 42509 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17175-h/images/9.png | bin | 0 -> 42795 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17175-h/images/divider.png | bin | 0 -> 9645 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17175-h/images/front.png | bin | 0 -> 44876 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17175-h/images/title.png | bin | 0 -> 16198 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17175.txt | 5977 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17175.zip | bin | 0 -> 108293 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
18 files changed, 18146 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/17175-8.txt b/17175-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..23ab889 --- /dev/null +++ b/17175-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5977 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tapestry Room, by Mrs. Molesworth + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Tapestry Room + A Child's Romance + +Author: Mrs. Molesworth + +Illustrator: Walter Crane + +Release Date: November 28, 2005 [EBook #17175] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TAPESTRY ROOM *** + + + + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: TWO CHRISTMAS ANGELS.--p. 122.] + + + + +THE TAPESTRY ROOM + +A Child's Romance + +By MRS. MOLESWORTH + +AUTHOR OF 'CARROTS,' 'CUCKOO CLOCK,' 'GRANDMOTHER DEAR,' 'TELL ME A +STORY,' ETC. + +[Illustration: 'DUDU'] + + 'What tale did Iseult to the children say, + Under the hollies, that bright winter's day?' + MATTHEW ARNOLD + +ILLUSTRATED BY WALTER CRANE + +London +MACMILLAN AND CO., Limited +NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY +1899 + + + + +(By Permission.) + +TO +H.R.H. VITTORIO EMANUELE +PRINCE OF NAPLES +CROWN PRINCE OF ITALY +ONE OF THE KINDLIEST OF MY YOUNG READERS + + MAISON DU CHANOINE, + _October_ 1879. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + CHAPTER I. + PAGE + MADEMOISELLE JEAN 1 + + CHAPTER II. + PRINCE CHÉRI 20 + + CHAPTER III. + ON A MOONLIGHT NIGHT 37 + + CHAPTER IV. + THE FOREST OF THE RAINBOWS 56 + + CHAPTER V. + FROG-LAND 75 + + CHAPTER VI. + THE SONG OF THE SWAN 94 + + CHAPTER VII. + WINGS AND CATS 114 + + CHAPTER VIII. + "THE BROWN BULL OF NORROWA" 135 + + CHAPTER IX. + THE BROWN BULL--(_Continued_) 158 + + CHAPTER X. + THE END OF THE BROWN BULL 177 + + CHAPTER XI. + DUDU'S OLD STORY 197 + + CHAPTER XII. + AU REVOIR 218 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. + + + "DUDU" _Vignette on Title-Page._ + + "ISN'T IT A FUNNY ROOM, CHÉRI?" _To face Page_ 25 + + IT WAS DUDU " 51 + + ONWARDS QUIETLY STEPPED THE LITTLE PROCESSION " 75 + + TWO CHRISTMAS ANGELS " 122 + + STORY SPINNING " 141 + + THE BROWN BULL OF NORROWA " 162 + + "IS THIS A NEW PART OF THE HOUSE?" " 201 + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +MADEMOISELLE JEANNE. + + "Maitre Corbeau, sur un arbre perché." + LA FONTAINE. + + +It was so cold. Ah, so very cold! So thought the old raven as he hobbled +up and down the terrace walk at the back of the house--the walk that was +so pleasant in summer, with its pretty view of the lower garden, gay +with the bright, stiffly-arranged flowerbeds, so pleasantly warm and yet +shady with the old trees overhead, where the raven's second cousins, the +rooks, managed their affairs, not without a good deal of chatter about +it, it must be confessed. "Silly creatures," the raven was in the habit +of calling them with contempt--all to himself, of course, for no one +understood the different tones of his croaking, even though he was a +French raven and had received the best of educations. But to-day he was +too depressed in spirit by the cold to think of his relations or their +behaviour at all. He just hopped or hobbled--I hardly know which you +would call it--slowly and solemnly up and down the long walk, where the +snow lay so thick that at each hop it came ever so far up his black +claws, which annoyed him very much, I assure you, and made him wish more +than ever that summer was back again. + +Poor old fellow! he was not usually of a discontented disposition; but +to-day, it must be allowed, he was in the right about the cold. It was +_very_ cold. + +Several others beside the raven were thinking so--the three chickens who +lived in a queer little house in one corner of the yard thought so, and +huddled the closer together, as they settled themselves for the night. +For though it was only half-past three in the afternoon, they thought it +was no use sitting up any longer on such a make-believe of a day, when +not the least little ray of sunshine had succeeded in creeping through +the leaden-grey sky. And the tortoise _would_ have thought so too if he +could, but he was too sleepy to think at all, as he "cruddled" himself +into his shell in the corner of the laurel hedge, and dreamt of the nice +hot days that were past. + +And upstairs, inside the old house, somebody else was thinking so too--a +little somebody who seemed to be doing her best to make herself, +particularly her nose, colder still, for she was pressing it hard on to +the icy window-pane and staring out on to the deserted, snow-covered +garden, and thinking how cold it was, and wishing it was summer time +again, and fancying how it would feel to be a raven like old "Dudu," all +at once, in the mixed-up, dancing-about way that "thinking" was +generally done in the funny little brain of Mademoiselle Jeanne. + +Inside the room it was getting dark, and the white snow outside seemed +to make it darker. + +"Mademoiselle Jeanne," said a voice belonging to a servant who just then +opened the door; "Mademoiselle Jeanne, what are you doing at the window? +You will catch cold." + +Jeanne gave a little start when she heard herself spoken to. She had +been all alone in the room for some time, with not a sound about her. +She turned slowly from the window and came near the fire. + +"If I did catch cold, it would not be bad," she said. "I would stay in +bed, and you, Marcelline, would make me nice things to eat, and nobody +would say, 'Don't do that, Mademoiselle.' It would be charming." + +Marcelline was Jeanne's old nurse, and she had been her mother's nurse +too. She was really rather old, how old nobody seemed exactly to know, +but Jeanne thought her _very_ old, and asked her once if she had not +been her grandmother's nurse too. Any one else but Marcelline would have +been offended at such a question; but Marcelline was not like any one +else, and she never was offended at anything. She was so old that for +many years no one had seen much difference in her--she had reached a +sort of settled oldness, like an arm-chair which may once have been +covered with bright-coloured silk, but which, with time and wear, has +got to have an all-over-old look which never seems to get any worse. Not +that Marcelline was dull or grey to look at--she was bright and cheery, +and when she had a new clean cap on, all beautifully frilled and crimped +round her face, Jeanne used to tell her that she was beautiful, quite +beautiful, and that if she was _very_ good and always did exactly what +Jeanne asked her, she--Jeanne--would have her to be nurse to her +children when she had grown up to be a lady, married to some very nice +gentleman. + +And when Jeanne chattered like that, Marcelline used to smile; she never +said anything, she just smiled. Sometimes Jeanne liked to see her +smile; sometimes it would make her impatient, and she would say, "Why do +you smile like that, Marcelline? _Speak!_ When I speak I like you to +speak too." + +But all she could get Marcelline to answer would be, "Well, +Mademoiselle, it is very well what you say." + +This evening--or perhaps I should say afternoon, for whatever hour the +chickens' timepiece made it, it was only half-past three by the great +big clock that stood at the end of the long passage by Jeanne's room +door;--this afternoon Jeanne was not quite as lively as she sometimes +was. She sat down on the floor in front of the fire and stared into it. +It was pretty to look at just then, for the wood was burning redly, and +at the tiniest touch a whole bevy of lovely sparks would fly out like +bees from a hive, or a covey of birds, or better still, like a thousand +imprisoned fairies escaping at some magic touch. Of all things, Jeanne +loved to give this magic touch. There was no poker, but she managed just +as well with a stick of unburnt wood, or sometimes, when she was _quite_ +sure Marcelline was not looking, with the toe of her little shoe. Just +now it was Marcelline who set the fairy sparks free by moving the logs a +little and putting on a fresh one behind. + +"How pretty they are, are they not, Marcelline?" said Jeanne. + +Marcelline did not speak, and when Jeanne looked up at her, she saw by +the light of the fire that she was smiling. Jeanne held up her +forefinger. + +"Naughty Marcelline," she said; "you are not to smile. You are to +_speak_. I want you to speak very much, for it is so dull, and I have +nothing to do. I want you to tell me stories, Marcelline. Do you hear, +you naughty little thing?" + +"And what am I to tell you stories about then, Mademoiselle? You have +got all out of my old head long ago; and when the grain is all ground +what can the miller do?" + +"Get some more, of course," said Jeanne. "Why, _I_ could make stories if +I tried, I daresay, and I am only seven, and you who are a hundred--are +you _quite_ a hundred, Marcelline?" + +Marcelline shook her head. + +"Not _quite_, Mademoiselle," she said. + +"Well, never mind, you are old enough to make stories, any way. Tell me +more about the country where you lived when you were little as I; the +country you will never tell me the name of. Oh, I do like that one about +the Golden Princess shut up in the castle by the sea! I like stories +about princesses best of all. I do wish I were a princess; next to my +best wish of all, I wish to be a princess. Marcelline, do you hear? I +want you to tell me a story." + +Still Marcelline did not reply. She in her turn was looking into the +fire. Suddenly she spoke. + +"One, two, three," she said. "Quick, now, Mademoiselle, quick, quick. +Wish a wish before that last spark is gone. Quick, Mademoiselle." + +"Oh dear, what shall I wish?" exclaimed Jeanne. "When you tell me to be +quick it all goes out of my head; but I know now. I wish----" + +"Hush, Mademoiselle," said Marcelline, quickly again. "You must not say +it aloud. Never mind, it is all right. You have wished it before the +spark is gone. It will come true, Mademoiselle." + +Jeanne's bright dark eyes glanced up at Marcelline with an expression of +mingled curiosity and respect. + +"How do you know it will come true?" she said. + +Marcelline's old eyes, nearly as bright and dark still as Jeanne's own, +had a half-mischievous look in them as she replied, solemnly shaking her +head, + +"I know, Mademoiselle, and that is all I can say. And when the time +comes for your wish to be granted, you will see if I am not right." + +"Shall I?" said Jeanne, half impressed, half rebellious. "Do the fairies +tell you things, Marcelline? Not that I believe there are any +fairies--not now, any way." + +"Don't say that, Mademoiselle," said Marcelline. "In that country I have +told you of no one ever said such a thing as that." + +"Why didn't they? Did they really _see_ fairies there?" asked Jeanne, +lowering her voice a little. + +"Perhaps," said Marcelline; but that was all she _would_ say, and Jeanne +couldn't get her to tell her any fairy stories, and had to content +herself with making them for herself instead out of the queer shapes of +the burning wood of the fire. + +She was so busy with these fancies that she did not hear the stopping of +the click-click of Marcelline's knitting needles, nor did she hear the +old nurse get up from her chair and go out of the room. A few minutes +before, the _facteur_ had rung at the great wooden gates of the +courtyard--a rather rare event, for in those days letters came only +twice a week--but this, too, little Jeanne had not heard. She must have +grown drowsy with the quiet and the heat of the fire, for she quite +started when the door again opened, and Marcelline's voice told her that +her mother wanted her to go down to the salon, she had something to say +to her. + +"O Marcelline," said Jeanne, rubbing her eyes, "I didn't know you had +gone away. What does mamma want? O Marcelline, I am so sleepy, I would +like to go to bed." + +"To go to bed, Mademoiselle, and not yet five o'clock! Oh no, you will +wake up nicely by the time you get down to the salon." + +"I am so tired, Marcelline," persisted Jeanne. "These winter days it is +so dull. I don't mind in summer, for then I can play in the garden with +Dudu and the tortoise, and all the creatures. But in winter it is so +dull. I would not be tired if I had a little friend to play with me." + +"Keep up your heart, Mademoiselle. Stranger things have happened than +that you should have some one to play with." + +"What do you mean, Marcelline?" said Jeanne, curiously. "Do you know +something, Marcelline? Tell me, do. Did you know what my wish was?" she +added, eagerly. + +"I know, Mademoiselle, that Madame will be waiting for you in the +salon. We can talk about your wish later; when I am putting you to bed." + +She would say no more, but smoothed Jeanne's soft dark hair, never very +untidy it must be owned, for it was always neatly plaited in two tails +that hung down her back, as was then the fashion for little girls of +Jeanne's age and country, and bade her again not to delay going +downstairs. + +Jeanne set off. In that great rambling old house it was really quite a +journey from her room to her mother's salon. There was the long corridor +to pass, at one end of which were Jeanne's quarters, at the other a room +which had had for her since her babyhood a mingled fascination and awe. +It was hung with tapestry, very old, and in some parts faded, but still +distinct. As Jeanne passed by the door of this room, she noticed that it +was open, and the gleam of the faint moonlight on the snow-covered +garden outside attracted her. + +"I can see the terrace ever so much better from the tapestry room +window," she said to herself. "I wonder what Dudu is doing, poor old +fellow. Oh, how cold he must be! I suppose Grignan is asleep in a hole +in the hedge, and the chickens will be all right any way. I have not +seen Houpet all day." + +"Houpet" was Jeanne's favourite of the three chickens. He had come by +his name on account of a wonderful tuft of feathers on the top of his +head, which stuck straight up and then waved down again, something like +a little umbrella. No doubt he was a very rare and wonderful chicken, +and if I were clever about chickens I would be able to tell you all his +remarkable points. But that I cannot do. I can only say he was the +queerest-looking creature that ever pecked about a poultry-yard, and how +it came to pass that Jeanne admired him so, I cannot tell you either. + +"Poor Houpet!" she repeated, as she ran across the tapestry room to the +uncurtained window; "I am sure he must have been very sad without me all +day. He has such a loving heart. The others are nice too, but not half +so loving. And Grignan has no heart at all; I suppose tortoises never +have; only he is very comical, which is nearly as nice. As for Dudu, I +really cannot say, he is so stuck up, as if he knew better than any one +else. Ah, there he is, the old fellow! Well, Dudu," she called out, as +if the raven could have heard her so far off and through the closely +shut window; "well, Dudu, how are you to-day, my dear sir? How do you +like the snow and the cold?" + +Dudu calmly continued his promenade up and down the terrace. Jeanne +could clearly distinguish his black shape against the white ground. + +"I am going downstairs to see mamma, Dudu," she went on. "I love mamma +very much, but I wish she wasn't my mother at all, but my sister. I wish +she was turned into a little girl to play with me, and that papa was +turned into a little boy. How funny he would look with his white hair, +wouldn't he, Dudu? Oh, you stupid Dudu, why won't you speak to me? I +wish you would come up here; there's a beautiful castle and garden in +the tapestry, where you would have two peacocks to play with;" for just +at that moment the moon, passing from under a cloud, lighted up one side +of the tapestry, which, as Jeanne said, represented a garden with +various curious occupants. And as the wavering brightness caught the +grotesque figures in turn, it really seemed to the little girl as if +they moved. Half pleased, half startled at the fancy, she clapped her +hands. + +"Dudu, Dudu," she cried, "the peacocks want you to come; they're +beginning to jump about;" and almost as she said the words a loud croak +from the raven sounded in her ears, and turning round, there, to her +amazement, she saw Dudu standing on the ledge of the window outside, +his bright eyes shining, his black wings flapping, just as if he would +say, + +"Let me in, Mademoiselle, let me in. Why do you mock me by calling me if +you won't let me in?" + +Completely startled by this time, Jeanne turned and fled. + +"He must be a fairy," she said by herself; "I'll never make fun of Dudu +any more--_never_. He must be a fairy, or how else could he have got up +from the terrace on to the window-sill all in a minute? And I don't +think a raven fairy would be nice at all; he'd be a sort of an imp, I +expect. I wouldn't mind now if Houpet was a fairy, he's so gentle and +loving; but Dudu would be a sort of ogre fairy, he's so black and +solemn. Oh dear, how he startled me! How did he get up there? I'm very +glad _I_ don't sleep in the tapestry room." + +But when she got down to the brightly-lighted salon her cheeks were so +pale and her eyes so startled-looking that her mother was quite +concerned, and eagerly asked what was the matter. + +"Nothing," said Jeanne at first, after the manner of little girls, and +boys too, when they do not want to be cross-questioned; but after a +while she confessed that she had run into the tapestry room on her way +down, and that the moonlight made the figures look as if they were +moving--and--and--that Dudu came and stood on the window-sill and +croaked at her. + +"Dudu stood on the window-sill outside the tapestry room!" repeated her +father; "impossible, my child! Why, Dudu could not by any conceivable +means get up there; you might as well say you saw the tortoise there +too." + +"If I had called him perhaps he _would_ have come too; I believe Dudu +and he are great friends," thought Jeanne to herself, for her mind was +in a queer state of confusion, and she would not have felt very much +astounded at anything. But aloud she only repeated, "I'm sure he was +there, dear papa." + +And to satisfy her, her kind father, though he was not so young as he +had been, and the bad weather made him very rheumatic, mounted upstairs +to the tapestry room, and carefully examined the window inside and out. + +"Nothing of the kind to be seen, my little girl," was his report. +"Master Dudu was hobbling about in the snow on his favourite terrace +walk as usual. I hope the servants give him a little meat in this cold +weather, by the by. I must speak to Eugène about it. What you fancied +was Dudu, my little Jeanne," he continued, "must have been a branch of +the ivy blown across the window. In the moonlight, and with the +reflections of the snow, things take queer shapes." + +"But there is no wind, and the ivy doesn't grow so high up, and the ivy +could not have _croaked_," thought Jeanne to herself again, though she +was far too well brought up a little French girl to contradict her +father by saying so. + +"Perhaps so, dear papa," was all she said. + +But her parents still looked a little uneasy. + +"She cannot be quite well," said her mother. "She must be feverish. I +must tell Marcelline to make her a little tisane when she goes to bed." + +"Ah, bah!" said Jeanne's white-headed papa. "What we were speaking of +will be a much better cure than tisane. She needs companionship of her +own age." + +Jeanne pricked up her ears at this, and glanced at her mother +inquiringly. Instantly there started into her mind Marcelline's prophecy +about her wish. + +"The naughty little Marcelline!" she thought to herself. "She has been +tricking me. I believe she knew something was going to happen. Mamma, my +dear mamma!" she cried, eagerly but respectfully, "have you something to +tell me? Have you had letters, mamma, from the country, where the +little cousin lives?" + +Jeanne's mother softly stroked the cheeks, red enough now, of her +excited little daughter. + +"Yes, my child," she replied. "I have had a letter. It was for that I +sent for you--to tell you about it. I have a letter from the grandfather +of Hugh, with whom he has lived since his parents died, and he accepts +my invitation. Hugh is to come to live with us, as his mother would have +wished. His grandfather can spare him, for he has other grandchildren, +and we need him, do we not, my Jeanne? My little girl needs a little +brother--and I loved his mother so much," she added in a lower voice. + +Jeanne could not speak. Her face was glowing with excitement, her breath +came quick and short, almost, it seemed, as if she were going to cry. +"O, mamma!" was all she could say--"O mamma!" but her mother understood +her. + +"And when will he come?" asked Jeanne next. + +"Soon, I hope. In a few days; but it depends on the weather greatly. The +snow has stopped the diligences in several places, they say; but his +grandfather writes that he would like Hugh to come soon, as he himself +has to leave home." + +"And will he be always with us? Will he do lessons with me, mamma, and +go to the château with us in summer, and always be with us?" + +"I hope so. For a long time at least. And he will do lessons with you at +first--though when he gets big he will need more teachers, of course." + +"He is a year older than I, mamma." + +"Yes, he is eight." + +"And, mamma," added Jeanne, after some consideration, "what room will he +have?" + +"The tapestry room," said her mother. "It is the warmest, and Hugh is +rather delicate, and may feel it cold here. And the tapestry room is not +far from yours, my little Jeanne, so you can keep your toys and books +together. There is only one thing I do not quite understand in the +letter," went on Jeanne's mother, turning to her husband as she always +did in any difficulty--he was so much older and wiser than she, she used +to say. "Hugh's grandfather says Hugh has begged leave to bring a pet +with him, and he hopes I will not mind. What can it be? I cannot read +the other word." + +"A little dog probably," said Jeanne's father, putting on his spectacles +as he took the letter from his wife, "a pet--gu--ga--and then comes +another word beginning with 'p.' It almost looks like 'pig,' but it +could not be a pet pig. No, I cannot read it either; we must wait to see +till he comes." + + * * * * * + +As Marcelline was preparing to put Jeanne to bed that night, the little +girl suddenly put her arms round her nurse's neck, and drew down her old +face till it was on a level with her own. + +"Look in my face, Marcelline," she said. "Now look in my face and +confess. Now, didn't you know that mamma had got a letter to-night and +what it said, and was not that how you knew my wish would come true?" + +Marcelline smiled. + +"That was one way I knew, Mademoiselle," she said. + +"Well, it shows I'm right not to believe in fairies any way. I really +did think at first that the fairies had told you something, but----" +suddenly she stopped as the remembrance of her adventure in the tapestry +room returned to her mind. "Dudu may be a fairy, whether Marcelline has +anything to do with fairies or not," she reflected. It was better +certainly to approach such subjects respectfully. "Marcelline," she +added, after a little silence, "there is only one thing I don't like. I +wish the little cousin were not going to sleep in the tapestry room." + +"Not in the tapestry room, Mademoiselle?" exclaimed Marcelline, "why, it +is the best room in the house! You, who are so fond of stories, +Mademoiselle--why there are stories without end on the walls of the +tapestry room; particularly on a moonlight night." + +"_Are_ there?" said Jeanne. "I wonder then if the little cousin will be +able to find them out. If he does he must tell them to me. Are they +fairy stories, Marcelline?" + +But old Marcelline only smiled. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +PRINCE CHÉRI. + + "I'll take my guinea-pig always to church." + CHILD WORLD. + + +If it were cold just then in the thick-walled, well-warmed old house, +which was Jeanne's home, you may fancy _how_ cold it was in the rumbling +diligence, which in those days was the only way of travelling in France. +And for a little boy whose experience of long journeys was small, this +one was really rather trying. But Jeanne's cousin Hugh was a very +patient little boy. His life, since his parents' death, had not been a +_very_ happy one, and he had learnt to bear troubles without +complaining. And now that he was on his way to the kind cousins his +mother had so often told him of, the cousins who had been so kind to +_her_, before she had any home of her own, his heart was so full of +happiness that, even if the journey had been twice as cold and +uncomfortable, he would not have thought himself to be pitied. + +It was a pale little face, however, which looked out of the diligence +window at the different places where it stopped, and a rather timid +voice which asked in the pretty broken French he had not quite forgotten +since the days that his mother taught him her own language, for a little +milk for his "pet." The pet, which had travelled on his knees all the +way from England--comfortably nestled up in hay and cotton wool in its +cage, which looked something like a big mouse-trap--much better off in +its way certainly than its poor little master. But it was a great +comfort to him: the sight of its funny little nose poking out between +the bars of its cage made Hugh feel ever so much less lonely, and when +he had secured a little milk for his guinea-pig he did not seem to mind +half so much about anything for himself. + +Still it was a long and weary journey, and poor Hugh felt very glad when +he was wakened up from the uncomfortable dose, which was all in the way +of sleep he could manage, to be told that at last they had arrived. This +was the town where his friends lived, and a "monsieur," the conductor +added, was inquiring for him--Jeanne's father's valet it was, who had +been sent to meet him and take him safe to the old house, where an eager +little heart was counting the minutes till he came. + +They looked at each other curiously when at last they met. Jeanne's eyes +were sparkling and her cheeks burning, and her whole little person in a +flutter of joyful excitement, and yet she couldn't speak. Now that the +little cousin was there, actually standing before her, she could not +speak. How was it? He was not _quite_ what she had expected; he looked +paler and quieter than any boys she had seen, and--was he not glad to +see her?--glad to have come?--she asked herself with a little misgiving. +She looked at him again--his blue eyes were very sweet and gentle, and, +tired though he was, Jeanne could see that he was trying to smile and +look pleased. But he was _very_ tired and very shy. That was all that +was the matter. And his shyness made Jeanne feel shy too. + +"Are you very tired, my cousin?" she said at last. + +"Not very, thank you," said Hugh. "I am rather tired, but I am not very +hungry," he added, glancing at a side-table where a little supper had +been laid out for him. "I am not very hungry, but I think Nibble is. +Might I have a little milk for Nibble, please?" + +As he spoke he held up for Jeanne to see the small box he was carrying, +and she gave a little scream of pleasure when, through the bars, she +caught sight of the guinea-pig's soft nose, poking out, saying as +plainly almost as if he had spoken, "I want my supper; please to see at +once about my supper, little girl." + +"Neeble," cried Jeanne, "O my cousin, is Neeble your pet? Why, he is a +'cochon de Barbarie!' O the dear little fellow! We could not--at least +papa and mamma could not--read what he was. And have you brought him all +the way, my cousin, and do you love him very much? Marcelline, +Marcelline, oh, do give us some milk for the cochon de Barbarie--oh, +see, Marcelline, how sweet he is!" + +Once set free, her tongue ran on so fast that sometimes Hugh had +difficulty to understand her. But the ice was broken any way, and when, +an hour or two later, Jeanne's mother told her she might take Hugh up to +show him his room, the two trotted off, hand-in-hand, as if they had +been close companions for years. + +"I hope you will like your room, chéri," said Jeanne, with a tiny tone +of patronising. "It is not very far from mine, and mamma says we can +keep all our toys and books together in my big cupboard in the passage." + +Hugh looked at Jeanne for a moment without speaking. "What was that name +you called me just now, Jeanne?" he asked, after a little pause. + +Jeanne thought for a minute. + +"'Mon cousin,' was it that?" she said. "Oh no, I remember, it was +'chéri.' I _cannot_ say your name--I have tried all these days. I cannot +say it better than 'Ee-ou,' which is not pretty." + +She screwed her rosy little mouth into the funniest shape as she tried +to manage "Hugh." Hugh could hardly help laughing. + +"Never mind," he said. "I like 'chéri' ever so much better. I like it +better than 'mon cousin' or any name, because, do you know," he added, +dropping his voice a little, "I remember now, though I had forgotten +till you said it--that was the name mamma called me by." + +"Chéri!" repeated Jeanne, stopping half-way up the staircase to throw +her arms round Hugh's neck at the greatest risk to the equilibrium of +the whole party, including the guinea-pig--"_Chéri!_ I shall always call +you so, then. You shall be my Prince Chéri. Don't you love fairy +stories, mon cousin?" + +"_Awfully_," said Hugh, from the bottom of his soul. + +[Illustration: 'ISN'T IT A FUNNY ROOM, CHÉRI?'--p. 25] + +"I knew you would," said Jeanne triumphantly. "And oh, so do I! +Marcelline says, Chéri, that the tapestry room--that's the room you're +going to have--is full of fairy stories. I wonder if you'll find out +any of them. You must tell me if you do." + +"The tapestry room?" repeated Hugh; "I don't think I ever saw a tapestry +room. Oh," he added, as a sudden recollection struck him, "is it like +what that queen long ago worked about the battles and all that? I mean +all about William the Conqueror." + +"No," said Jeanne, "it's quite different from that work. I've seen that, +so I know. It isn't pretty at all. It's just long strips of linen with +queer-shaped horses and things worked on. Not _at all_ pretty. And I +think the pictures on the walls of your room _are_ pretty. Here it is. +Isn't it a funny room, Chéri?" + +She opened the door of the tapestry room as she spoke, for while +chattering they had mounted the staircase and made their way along the +corridor. Hugh followed his little cousin into the room, and stood +gazing round him with curious surprise and pleasure. The walls were well +lighted up, for Marcelline had carried a lamp upstairs and set it down +on the table, and a bright fire was burning in the wide old-fashioned +hearth. + +"Jeanne," said Hugh, after a minute's silence, "Jeanne, it is very +funny, but, do you know, I am _sure_ I have seen this room before. I +seem to know the pictures on the walls. Oh, _how_ nice they are! I +didn't think that was what tapestry meant. Oh, how glad I am this is to +be my room--is yours like this too, Jeanne?" + +Jeanne shook her head. + +"Oh no, Chéri," she said. "My room has a nice paper--roses and things +like that running up and down. I am very glad my room is not like this. +I don't think I should like to see all these funny creatures in the +night. You don't know how queer they look in the moonlight. They quite +frightened me once." + +Hugh opened his blue eyes very wide. + +"_Frightened_ you?" he said. "I should never be frightened at them. They +are so nice and funny. Just look at those peacocks, Jeanne. They are +lovely." + +Jeanne still shook her head. + +"I don't think so," she said. "I can't bear those peacocks. But I'm very +glad _you_ like them, Chéri." + +"I wish it was moonlight to-night," continued Hugh. "I don't think I +should go to sleep at all. I would lie awake watching all the pictures. +I dare say they look rather nice in the firelight too, but still not +_so_ nice as in the moonlight." + +"No, Monsieur," said Marcelline, who had followed the children into the +room. "A moonlight night is the time to see them best. It makes the +colours look quite fresh again. Mademoiselle Jeanne has never looked at +the tapestry properly by moonlight, or she would like it better." + +"I shouldn't mind with Chéri," said Jeanne. "You must call me some night +when it's very pretty, Chéri, and we'll look at it together." + +Marcelline smiled and seemed pleased, which was rather funny. Most +nurses would have begun scolding Jeanne for dreaming of such a thing as +running about the house in the middle of the night to admire the +moonlight on tapestry or on anything else. But then Marcelline certainly +was rather a funny person. + +"And the cochon de Barbarie, where is he to sleep, Monsieur?" she said +to Hugh. + +Hugh looked rather distressed. + +"I don't know," he said. "At home he slept in his little house on a sort +of balcony there was outside my window. But there isn't any balcony +here--besides, it's so _very_ cold, and he's quite strange, you know." + +He looked at Marcelline, appealingly. + +"I daresay, while it is so cold, Madame would not mind if we put him in +the cupboard in the passage," she said; but Jeanne interrupted her. + +"Oh no," she said. "He would be far better in the chickens' house. It's +nice and warm, I know, and his cage can be in one corner. He wouldn't be +nearly so lonely, and to-morrow I'll tell Houpet and the others that +they must be very kind to him. Houpet always does what I tell him." + +"Who is Houpet?" said Hugh. + +"He's my pet chicken," replied Jeanne. "They're all pets, of course, but +he's the most of a pet of all. He lives in the chicken-house with the +two other little chickens. O Chéri," she added, glancing round, and +seeing that Marcelline had left the room, "do let us run out and peep at +Houpet for a minute. We can go through the tonnelle, and the chickens' +house is close by." + +She darted off as she spoke, and Hugh, nothing loth, his precious Nibble +still in his arms, followed her. They ran down the long corridor, on to +which opened both the tapestry room and Jeanne's room at the other end, +through a small sort of anteroom, and then--for though they were +_upstairs_, the garden being built in terraces was at this part of the +house on a level with the first floor--then straight out into what +little Jeanne called "the tonnelle." + +Hugh stood still and gazed about him with delight and astonishment. + +"O Jeanne," he exclaimed, "how pretty it is! oh, how very pretty!" + +Jeanne stopped short in her progress along the tonnelle. + +"What's pretty?" she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Do you mean the +garden with the snow?" + +"No, no, that's pretty too, but I mean the trees. Look up, Jeanne, do." + +There was no moonlight, but the light from the windows streamed out to +where the children stood, and shone upon the beautiful icicles on the +branches above their heads. For the tonnelle was a kind of arbour--a +long covered passage made by trees at each side, whose boughs had been +trained to meet and interlace overhead. And now, with their fairy +tracery of snow and frost, the effect of the numberless little branches +forming a sparkling roof was pretty and fanciful in the extreme. Jeanne +looked up as she was told. + +"Yes," she said, "it's pretty. If it was moonlight it would be prettier +still, for then we could see right along the tonnelle to the end." + +"I don't think that _would_ be prettier," said Hugh; "the dark at the +end makes it look so nice--like as if it was a fairy door into some +queer place--a magic cavern, or some place like that." + +"So it does," said Jeanne. "What nice fancies you have, Chéri! But I +wish you could see the tonnelle in summer. It _is_ pretty then, with all +the leaves on. But we must run quick, or else Marcelline will be calling +us before we have got to the chicken-house." + +Off she set again, and Hugh after her, though not so fast, for Jeanne +knew every step of the way, and poor Hugh had never been in the garden +before. It was not very far to go, however--the chickens' house was in a +little courtyard just a few steps from the tonnelle, and guided by +Jeanne's voice in front as much as by the faint glimpses of her figure, +dark against the snow, Hugh soon found himself safe beside her at the +door of the chickens' house. Jeanne felt about till she got hold of the +latch, which she lifted, and was going to push open the door and enter +when Hugh stopped her. + +"Jeanne," he said, "it's _quite_ dark. We can't possibly see the +chickens. Hadn't we better wait till to-morrow, and put Nibble in the +cupboard, as Marcelline said, for to-night?" + +"Oh no," said Jeanne. "It doesn't matter a bit that it's dark." She +opened the door as she spoke, and gently pulled Hugh in after her. +"Look," she went on, "there is a very, very little light from the +kitchen window after all, when the door is opened. Look, Chéri, up in +that corner sleep Houpet and the others. Put the cochon de Barbarie down +here--so--that will do. He will be quite safe here, and you feel it is +not cold." + +"And are there no rats, or naughty dogs about--nothing like that?" asked +Hugh rather anxiously. + +"Of course not," replied Jeanne. "Do you think I'd leave Houpet here if +there were? I'll call to Houpet now, and tell him to be kind to the +little cochon." + +"But Houpet's asleep, and, besides, how would he know what you say?" +objected Hugh. + +For all answer Jeanne gave a sort of little whistle--half whistle, half +coo it was. "Houpet, Houpet," she called softly, "we've brought a little +cochon de Barbarie to sleep in your house. You must be very kind to +him--do you hear, Houpet dear? and in the morning you must fly down and +peep in at his cage and tell him you're very glad to see him." + +A faint, a very faint little rustle was heard up above in the corner +where Jeanne had tried to persuade her cousin that the chickens were to +be _seen_, and delighted at this evidence that any way they were to be +_heard_, she turned to him triumphantly. + +"That's Houpet," she said. "Dear little fellow, he's too sleepy to +crow--he just gives a little wriggle to show that he's heard me. Now put +down the cage, Chéri--oh, you have put it down--and let's run in again. +Your pet will be quite safe, you see, but if we're not quick, Marcelline +will be running out to look for us." + +She felt about for Hugh's hand, and having got it, turned to go. But she +stopped to put her head in again for a moment at the door. + +"Houpet, dear," she said, "don't let Dudu come into your house. If he +tries to, you must fly at him and scold him and peck him." + +"Who is Dudu?" said Hugh, as they were running back to the house +together along the snowy garden path. + +"He is----" began Jeanne. "Hush," she went on, in a lower voice, "there +he is! I do believe he heard what I said, and he's angry." For right +before them on the path stood the old raven, on one leg as usual, though +this it was too dark to see clearly. And, as Jeanne spoke, he gave a +sharp, sudden croak, which made both the children jump, and then +deliberately hopped away. + +"He's a raven!" said Hugh with surprise. "Why, what funny pets you have, +Jeanne!" + +Jeanne laughed. + +"Dudu isn't my pet," she said. "I don't like him. To tell you the truth, +Chéri, I'm rather frightened of him. I think he's a sort of a fairy." + +Hugh looked much impressed, but not at all surprised. + +"Do you really, Jeanne?" he said. + +"Yes," she said, "I do. And I'm not _sure_ but that Grignan is too. At +least I think Grignan is enchanted, and that Dudu is the spiteful fairy +that did it. Grignan is the tortoise, you know." + +"Yes," said Hugh, "you told me about him. I do wonder if what you think +is true," he added reflectively. "We must try to find out, Jeanne." + +"But we mustn't offend Dudu," said Jeanne. "He might, you know, turn +_us_ into something--two little mice, perhaps--that wouldn't be very +nice, would it, Chéri?" + +"I don't know," Hugh replied. "I wouldn't mind for a little, if he would +turn us back again. We could get into such funny places and see such +funny things--couldn't we, Jeanne?" + +They both laughed merrily at the idea, and were still laughing when they +ran against Marcelline at the door which they had left open at the end +of the tonnelle. + +"My children!" she exclaimed. "Monsieur Chéri and Mademoiselle Jeanne! +Where have you been? And in the snow too! Who would have thought it?" + +Her tone was anxious, but not cross. She hurried them in to the warm +fire, however, and carefully examined their feet to make sure that their +shoes and stockings were not wet. + +"Marcelline is very kind," said Hugh, fixing his soft blue eyes on the +old nurse in surprise. "At home, grandmamma's maid would have scolded me +dreadfully if I had run out in the snow." + +"Yes," said Jeanne, flinging her arms round the old nurse's neck, and +giving her a kiss first on one cheek then on the other; "she is very +kind. Nice little old Marcelline." + +"Perhaps," said Hugh, meditatively, "she remembers that when she was a +little girl she liked to do things like that herself." + +"I don't believe you ever were a little girl, were you, Marcelline?" +said Jeanne. "I believe you were always a little old woman like what you +are now." + +Marcelline laughed, but did not speak. + +"Ask Dudu," she said at last. "If he is a fairy, he should know." + +Jeanne pricked up her ears at this. + +"Marcelline," she said solemnly, "I believe you do know something about +Dudu. Oh, _do_ tell us, dear Marcelline." + +But nothing more was to be got out of the old nurse. + +When the children were undressed, Jeanne begged leave to run into Hugh's +room with him to tuck him into bed, and make him feel at home the first +night. There was no lamp in the room, but the firelight danced curiously +on the quaint figures on the walls. + +"You're sure you're not frightened, Chéri?" said little Jeanne in a +motherly way, as she was leaving the room. + +"Frightened! what is there to be frightened at?" said Hugh. + +"The funny figures," said Jeanne. "Those peacocks look just as if they +were going to jump out at you." + +"I think they look very nice," said Hugh. "I am sure I shall have nice +dreams. I shall make the peacocks give a party some night, Jeanne, and +we'll invite Dudu and Grignan, and Houpet and the two little hens, and +Nibble, of course, and we'll make them all tell stories." + +Jeanne clapped her hands. + +"Oh, what fun!" she exclaimed. "And you'll ask me and let me hear the +stories, won't you, Chéri?" + +"_Of course_," said Hugh. So Jeanne skipped off in the highest spirits. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +ON A MOONLIGHT NIGHT. + + "O moon! in the night I have seen you sailing, + And shining so round and low." + CHILD NATURE. + + +"And what did you dream, Chéri?" inquired Jeanne the next morning in a +confidential and mysterious tone. + +Hugh hesitated. + +"I don't know," he said at last. "At least----" he stopped and hesitated +again. + +The two children were having their "little breakfast," consisting of two +great big cups of nice hot milky coffee and two big slices of bread, +with the sweet fresh butter for which the country where Jeanne's home +was is famed. They were alone in Jeanne's room, and Marcelline had drawn +a little table close to the fire for them, for this morning it seemed +colder than ever; fresh snow had fallen during the night, and out in +the garden nothing was to be seen but smoothly-rounded white mounds of +varying sizes and heights, and up in the sky the dull blue-grey curtain +of snow-cloud made one draw back shivering from the window, feeling as +if the sun had gone off in a sulky fit and would _never_ come back +again. + +But inside, close by the brightly-blazing wood fire, Jeanne and Hugh +found themselves "very well," as the little girl called it, very well +indeed. And the hot coffee was very nice, much nicer, Hugh thought, than +the very weak tea which his grandmother's maid used to give him for +breakfast at home. He stirred it round and round slowly with his spoon, +staring into his cup, while he repeated, in answer to little Jeanne's +question about what he had dreamt, "No, I don't know." + +"But you did dream _something_," said Jeanne rather impatiently. "Can't +you tell me about it? I thought you were going to have all sorts of +funny things to tell me. You said you would have a party of the peacocks +and all the pets, and make them tell stories." + +"Yes," said Hugh slowly. "But I couldn't make them--I must wait till +they come. I think I did dream some funny things last night, but I can't +remember. There seemed to be a lot of chattering, and once I thought I +saw the raven standing at the end of the bed, but that time I wasn't +dreaming. I'm sure I wasn't; but I was very sleepy, and I couldn't hear +what he said. He seemed to want me to do something or other, and then he +nodded his head to where the peacocks are, and do you know, Jeanne, I +thought they nodded too. Wasn't that funny? But I daresay it was only +the firelight--the fire had burnt low, and then it bobbed up again all +of a sudden." + +"And what more?" asked Jeanne eagerly. "O Chéri, I think that's +wonderful! Do tell me some more." + +"I don't think I remember any more," said Hugh. "After that I went to +sleep, and then it was all a muddle. There were the chickens and Nibble +and the tortoise all running about, and Dudu seemed to be talking to me +all the time. But it was just a muddle; you know how dreams go +sometimes. And when I woke up the fire was quite out and it was all +dark. And then I saw the light of Marcelline's candle through the hinge +of the door, and she came to tell me it was time to get up." + +"Oh dear," said Jeanne, "I do hope you'll dream some more to-night." + +"I daresay I shan't dream at all," said Hugh. "Some nights I go to +sleep, and it's morning in one minute. I don't like that much, because +it's nice to wake up and feel how cosy it is in bed." + +"But, Chéri," pursued Jeanne after a few moments' silence, and a few +more bites at her bread and butter, "there's one thing I don't +understand. It's about Dudu. You said it wasn't a dream, you were sure. +Do you think he was really there, at the foot of the bed? It might have +been the firelight that made you think you saw the peacocks nodding, but +it couldn't have been the firelight that made you think you saw Dudu." + +"No," said Hugh, "I can't understand it either. If it was a dream it was +a very queer one, for I never felt more awake in my life. I'll tell you +what, Jeanne, the next time I think I see Dudu like that I'll run and +tell you." + +"Yes, do," said Jeanne, "though I don't know that it would be much good. +Dudu's dreadfully tricky." + +She had not told Hugh of the trick the raven had played her, though why +she had not done so she could hardly have explained. Perhaps she was a +little ashamed of having been so frightened; perhaps she was still a +little afraid of Dudu; and most of all, I think, she had a great +curiosity to find out more about the mysterious bird, and thought it +best to leave Hugh to face his own adventures. + +"If Dudu thinks I've told Chéri all about his funny ways," she thought, +"perhaps he'll be angry and not do any more queer things." + +The snow was still, as I said, thick on the ground, thicker, indeed, +than the day before. But the children managed to amuse themselves very +well. Marcelline would not hear of their going out, not even as far as +the chickens' house, but she fetched Nibble to pay them a visit in the +afternoon, and they had great fun with him. + +"He looks very happy, doesn't he, Chéri?" said Jeanne. "I am sure Houpet +has been kind to him. What a pity pets can't speak, isn't it? they could +tell us such nice funny things." + +"Yes," said Hugh, "I've often thought that, and I often have thought +Nibble could speak if he liked." + +"_Houpet_ could, I'm quite sure," said Jeanne, "and I believe Dudu and +he do speak to each other. You should just see them sometimes. Why, +there they are!" she added, going close up to the window near which she +had been standing. "Do come here, Chéri, quick, but come very quietly." + +Hugh came forward and looked out. There were the four birds, making the +quaintest group you could fancy. Houpet with his waving tuft of feathers +was perched on the top rung of a short garden ladder, his two little +hens as usual close beside him. And down below on the path stood the +raven, on one leg of course, his queer black head very much on one side, +as he surveyed the little group above him. + +"Silly young people," he seemed to be saying to himself; but Houpet was +not to be put down so. With a shrill, clear crow he descended from his +perch, stepped close up to Dudu, looked him in the face, and then +quietly marched off, followed by his two companions. The children +watched this little scene with the greatest interest. + +"They _do_ look as if they were talking to each other," said Hugh. "I +wonder what it's about." + +"Perhaps it's about the party," said Jeanne; "the party you said you'd +give to the peacocks on the wall, and all the pets." + +"Perhaps," said Hugh. "I am sure there must be beautiful big rooms in +that castle with the lots of steps up to it, where the peacocks stand. +Don't you think it would be nice to get inside that castle and see what +it's like?" + +"Oh, wouldn't it!" said Jeanne, clapping her hands. "How I do wish we +could! You might tell Dudu to take us, Chéri. Perhaps it's a fairy +palace really, though it only looks like a picture, and if Dudu's a +fairy, he might know about it." + +"I'll ask him if I get a chance," said Hugh. "Good morning, Monsieur +Dudu," he went on, bowing politely from the window to the raven, who had +cocked his head in another direction, and seemed now to be looking up at +the two children with the same supercilious stare he had bestowed upon +the cock and hens. "Good morning, Monsieur Dudu; I hope you won't catch +cold with this snowy weather. It's best to be very polite to him, you +see," added Hugh, turning to Jeanne; "for if he took offence we should +get no fun out of him." + +"Oh yes," said Jeanne, "it is much best to be very polite to him. Look +at him now, Chéri; _doesn't_ he look as if he knew what we were saying?" + +For Dudu was eyeing them unmistakably by this time, his head more on one +side than ever, and his lame leg stuck out in the air like a +walking-stick. + +"That's _just_ how he stood at the foot of the bed, on the wood part, +you know," said Hugh, in a whisper. + +"And weren't you frightened, Chéri?" said Jeanne. "I always think Dudu +looks not at all like a good fairy, when he cocks his head on one side +and sticks his claw out like that. I quite believe then that he's a +wicked enchanter. O Chéri," she went on, catching hold of Hugh, "what +_should_ we do if he was to turn us into two little frogs or toads?" + +"We should have to live in the water, and eat nasty little worms and +flies, I suppose," said Hugh gravely. + +"And that sort of thick green stuff that grows at the top of dirty +ponds; fancy having that for soup," said Jeanne pathetically. "O Chéri, +we must indeed be very polite to Dudu, and take _great_ pains not to +offend him; and if he comes to you in the night, you must be sure to +call me at once." + +But the following night and several nights after that went by, and +nothing was heard or seen of Monsieur Dudu. The weather got a little +milder; that is to say, the snow gradually melted away, and the children +were allowed to go out into the garden and visit their pets. Nibble +seemed quite at home in his new quarters, and was now permitted to run +about the chicken-house at his own sweet will; and Jeanne greatly +commended Houpet for his kindness to the little stranger, which +commendation the chicken received in very good part, particularly when +it took the shape of all the tit-bits left on the children's plates. + +"See how tame he is," said Jeanne one day when she had persuaded the +little cock to peck some crumbs out of her hand; "isn't he a darling, +Chéri, with his _dear_ little tuft of feathers on the top of his head?" + +"He's awfully funny-looking," said Hugh, consideringly; "do you really +think he's very pretty, Jeanne?" + +"Of course I do," said Jeanne, indignantly; "all my pets are pretty, but +Houpet's the prettiest of all." + +"He's prettier than Grignan, certainly," said Hugh, giving an amiable +little push to the tortoise, who happened to be lying at his feet; "but +I like Grignan, he's so comical." + +"I think Grignan must know a great deal," said Jeanne, "he's so solemn." + +"So is Dudu," said Hugh. "By the by, Jeanne," he went on, but stopped +suddenly. + +"What?" said Jeanne. + +"It just came into my head while we were talking that I must have +dreamt of Dudu again last night; but now I try to remember it, it has +all gone out of my head." + +"_What_ a pity," said Jeanne; "do try to remember. Was it that he came +and stood at the foot of the bed again, like the last time? You promised +to call me if he did." + +"No, I don't think he did. I have more a sort of feeling that he and the +peacocks on the wall were whispering to each other--something about +us--you and me, Jeanne--it was, I think." + +"Perhaps they were going to give a party, and were planning about +inviting us," suggested Jeanne. + +"I don't know," said Hugh; "it's no good my trying to think. It's just a +sleepy feeling of having heard something. I can't remember anything +else, and the more I think, the less I remember." + +"Well, you must be sure to tell me if you do hear anything more. I was +awake ever so long in the night, ever so long; but I didn't mind, there +was such nice moonlight." + +"Moonlight, was there?" said Hugh; "I didn't know that. I'll try to keep +awake to-night, because Marcelline says the figures on the walls are so +pretty when it's moonlight." + +"And if Dudu comes, or you see anything funny, you'll promise to call +me?" said Jeanne. + +Hugh nodded his head. There was not much fear of his forgetting his +promise. Jeanne reminded him of it at intervals all that day, and when +the children kissed each other for good-night she whispered again, +"Remember to call me, Chéri." + +Chéri went to sleep with the best possible intentions as to +"remembering." He had, first of all, intended not to go to sleep at all, +for his last glance out of the window before going to bed showed him +Monsieur Dudu on the terrace path, enjoying the moonlight apparently, +but, Hugh strongly suspected, bent on mischief, for his head was very +much on one side and his claw very much stuck out, in the way which +Jeanne declared made him look like a very impish raven indeed. + +"I wonder what Marcelline meant about the moonlight," thought Hugh to +himself as he lay down. "I hardly see the figures on the wall at all. +The moon must be going behind a cloud. I wonder if it will be brighter +in the middle of the night. I don't see that I need stay awake all the +night to see. I can easily wake again. I'll just take a little sleep +first." + +And the little sleep turned out such a long one, that when poor Hugh +opened his eyes, lo and behold! it was to-morrow morning--there was +Marcelline standing beside the bed, telling him it was time to get up, +he would be late for his tutor if he did not dress himself at once. + +"Oh dear," exclaimed Hugh, "what a pity! I meant to stay awake all night +to watch the moonlight." + +Marcelline smiled what Jeanne called her funny smile. + +"You would find it very difficult to do that, I think, my little +Monsieur," she said. "However, you did not miss much last night. The +clouds came over so that the moon had no chance. Perhaps it will be +clearer to-night." + +With this hope Hugh had to be satisfied, and to satisfy also his little +cousin, who was at first quite disappointed that he had nothing +wonderful to tell her. + +"To-night," she said, "_I_ shall stay awake all night, and if the +moonlight is very nice and bright I shall come and wake _you_, you +sleepy Chéri. I do _so_ want to go up those steps and into the castle +where the peacocks are standing at the door." + +"So do I," said Hugh, rather mortified; "but if one goes to sleep, +whose fault is it? I am sure you will go to sleep too, if you try to +keep awake. There's _nothing_ makes people go to sleep so fast as trying +to keep awake." + +"Well, don't try then," said Jeanne, "and see what comes then." + +And when night came, Hugh, partly perhaps because he was particularly +sleepy--the day had been so much finer that the children had had some +splendid runs up and down the long terrace walk in the garden, and the +unusual exercise had made both of them very ready for bed when the time +came--took Jeanne's advice, tucked himself up snugly and went off to +sleep without thinking of the moonlight, or the peacocks, or Dudu, or +anything. He slept so soundly, that when he awoke he thought it was +morning, and brighter morning than had hitherto greeted him since he +came to Jeanne's home. + +"Dear me!" he said to himself, rubbing his eyes, "it must be very late; +it looks just as if summer had come," for the whole room was flooded +with light--such beautiful light--bright and clear, and yet soft. No +wonder that Hugh rubbed his eyes in bewilderment--it was not till he sat +up in bed and looked well about him, quite awake now, that he saw that +after all it was moonlight, not sunshine, which was illumining the old +tapestry room and everything which it contained in this wonderful way. + +"Oh, how pretty it is!" thought Hugh. "No wonder Marcelline told us that +we should see the tapestry in the moonlight. I never could have thought +it would have looked so pretty. Why, even the peacocks' tails seem to +have got all sorts of new colours." + +He leant forward to examine them better. They were standing--just as +usual--one on each side of the flight of steps leading up to the castle. +But as Hugh gazed at them it certainly seemed to him--could it be his +fancy only?--no, it _must_ be true--that their long tails grew longer +and swept the ground more majestically--then that suddenly--fluff! a +sort of little wind seemed to rustle for an instant, and fluff! again, +the two peacocks had spread their tails, and now stood with them proudly +reared fan-like, at their backs, just like the real living birds that +Hugh had often admired in his grandfather's garden. Hugh was too much +amazed to rub his eyes again--he could do nothing but stare, and stare +he did with all his might, but for a moment or two there was nothing +else to be seen. The peacocks stood still--so still that Hugh now +began to doubt whether they had not always stood, tails spread, just as +he saw them now, and whether these same tails having ever drooped on the +ground was not altogether his fancy. A good deal puzzled, and a little +disappointed, he was turning away to look at another part of the +pictured walls, when again a slight flutter of movement caught his eyes. +What was about to happen this time? + +[Illustration:--"IT WAS DUDU!"--p. 51.] + +"Perhaps they are going to furl their tails again," thought Hugh; but +no. One on each side of the castle door, the peacocks solemnly advanced +a few steps, then stood still--quite still--but yet with a certain +waiting look about them as if they were expecting some one or something. +They were not kept waiting long. The door of the castle opened slowly, +very slowly, the peacocks stepped still a little farther forward, and +out of the door of the castle--the castle into which little Jeanne had +so longed to enter--who, what, who _do_ you think came forth? It was +Dudu! + +A small black figure, black from head to foot, head very much cocked on +one side, foot--claw I should say--stuck out like a walking-stick; he +stood between the peacocks, right in Hugh's view, just in front of the +door which had closed behind him, at the top of the high flight of +steps. He stood still with an air of great dignity, which seemed to say, +"Here you see me for the first time in my rightful character--monarch of +all I survey." And somehow Hugh felt that this unspoken address was +directed to _him_. Then, quietly and dignifiedly still, the raven +turned, first to the right, then to the left, and gravely bowed to the +two attendant peacocks, who each in turn saluted him respectfully and +withdrew a little farther back, on which Dudu began a very slow and +imposing progress down the steps. How he succeeded in making it so +imposing was the puzzle, for after all, his descent was undoubtedly a +series of hops, but all the same it was very majestic, and Hugh felt +greatly impressed, and watched him with bated breath. + +"One, two, three, four," said Hugh to himself, half unconsciously +counting each step as the raven advanced, "what a lot of steps! Five, +six, seven," up to twenty-three Hugh counted on. And "what is he going +to do now?" he added, as Dudu, arrived at the foot of the stairs, looked +calmly about him for a minute or two, as if considering his next +movements. Then--how he managed it Hugh could not tell--he suddenly +stepped out of the tapestry landscape, and in another moment was +perched in his old place at the foot of Hugh's bed. + +He looked at Hugh for an instant or two, gravely and scrutinisingly, +then bowed politely. Hugh, who was half sitting up in bed, bowed too, +but without speaking. He remembered Jeanne's charges to be very polite +to the raven, and thought it better to take no liberties with him, but +to wait patiently till he heard what Monsieur Dudu had to say. For +somehow it seemed to him a matter of course that the raven _could_ +speak--he was not the very least surprised when at last Dudu cleared his +throat pompously and began-- + +"You have been expecting me, have you not?" + +Hugh hesitated. + +"I don't know exactly. I'm not quite sure. Yes, I think I thought +perhaps you'd come. But oh! if you please, Monsieur Dudu," he exclaimed, +suddenly starting up, "do let me go and call Jeanne. I promised her I +would if you came, or if I saw anything funny. Do let me go. I won't be +a minute." + +But the raven cocked his head on one side and looked at Hugh rather +sternly. + +"No," he said. "You cannot go for Jeanne. I do not wish it at present." + +Hugh felt rather angry. Why should Dudu lay down the law to him in this +way? + +"But I promised," he began. + +"People should not promise what they are not sure of being able to +perform," he said sententiously. "Besides, even if you did go to get +Jeanne, she couldn't come. She is ever so far away." + +"Away!" repeated Hugh in amazement, "away! Little Jeanne gone away. Oh +no, you must be joking Du--, I beg your pardon, Monsieur Dudu." + +"Not at all," said Dudu. "She _is_ away, and farther away than you or +she has any notion of, even though if you went into her room you would +see her little rosy face lying on the pillow. _She_ is away." + +Hugh still looked puzzled, though rather less so. + +"You mean that her thinking is away, I suppose," he said. "But I could +wake her." + +Again the raven cocked his head on one side. + +"No," he said. "You must be content to do my way at present. Now, tell +me what it is you want. Why did you wish me to come to see you?" + +"I wanted--at least I thought, and Jeanne said so," began Hugh. "We +thought perhaps you were a fairy, Monsieur Dudu, and that you could take +us into the castle in the tapestry. It looked so bright and real a few +minutes ago," he added, turning to the wall, which was now only faintly +illumined by the moonlight, and looked no different from what Hugh had +often seen it in the daytime. "What has become of the beautiful light, +Monsieur Dudu? And the peacocks? They have shut up their tails +again----" + +"Never mind," said the raven. "So you want to see the castle, do you?" +he added. + +"Yes," said Hugh; "but not so much as Jeanne. It was she wanted it most. +She wants dreadfully to see it. _I_ thought," he added, rather timidly, +"_I_ thought we might play at giving a party in the castle, and inviting +Houpet, you know, and Nibble." + +"_Only_," observed the raven, drily, "there is one little objection to +that. _Generally_--I may be mistaken, of course, my notions are very +old-fashioned, I daresay--but, _generally_, people give parties in their +own houses, don't they?" + +And as he spoke he looked straight at Hugh, cocking his head on one side +more than ever. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE FOREST OF THE RAINBOWS. + + "Rose and amethyst, gold and grey." + "ONCE." + + +Hugh felt rather offended. It was natural that he should do so, I think. +At least I am sure that in his place I too should have felt hurt. He had +said nothing to make the raven speak in that disagreeably sarcastic way. + +"I wish Jeanne were here," he said to himself; "she would think of +something to put him down a little." + +But aloud he said nothing, so, great was his surprise, when the raven +coolly remarked in answer to his unspoken thoughts, + +"So Jeanne could put me down, you think? I confess, I don't agree with +you. However, never mind about that. We shall be very good friends in +time. And now, how about visiting the castle?" + +"I should like to go," replied Hugh, thinking it wiser, all things +considered, to get over his offended feelings. "I should like to see +the castle very much, though I should have liked Jeanne to be with me; +but still," he went on, reflecting that Jeanne would be extremely +disappointed if he did not make the most of his present opportunity, +such as it was, "if you will be so kind as to show me the way, Monsieur +Dudu, I'd like to go, and then, any way, I can tell Jeanne all about +it." + +"I cannot exactly show you the way," said the raven, "I am only the +guardian on this side. But if you will attend to what I say, you will +get on very well. Here, in the first place, is a pair of wall-climbers +to put on your feet." + +He held out his claw, on the end of which hung, by a narrow ribbon, two +round little cushions about the size of a macaroon biscuit. Hugh took +them, and examined them curiously. They were soft and elastic, what Hugh +in his own words would have described as "blobby." They seemed to be +made of some stuff like indiarubber, and were just the colour of his +skin. + +"What funny things!" said Hugh. + +"They are made after the pattern of the fly's wall-climbers," remarked +the raven. "Put them on--tie them on, that is to say, so that they will +be just in the middle of your foot, underneath of course. That's right; +now jump out of bed and follow me," and before Hugh knew what he was +doing he found himself walking with the greatest ease straight up the +wall to where the long flight of steps to the tapestry castle began. On +the lowest steps the raven stopped a moment. + +"Shall I take them off now?" asked Hugh. "I don't need them to walk up +steps with." + +"Take them off?" said the raven; "oh dear no. When you don't need them +they won't incommode you, and they'll be all ready for the next time. +Besides, though it mayn't seem so to you, these steps are not so easy to +get up as you think. At least they wouldn't be without the +wall-climbers." + +_With_ them, however, nothing could have been easier. Hugh found himself +in no time at the top of the flight of steps in front of the door from +which the raven had come out. The peacocks, now he was close to them, +seemed to him larger than ordinary peacocks, but the brilliant colours +of their feathers, which he had noticed in the bright moonlight, had +disappeared. It was light enough for him to distinguish their figures, +but that was all. + +"I must leave you now," said the raven; "but you will get on very well. +Only remember these two things--don't be impatient, and don't take off +your wall-climbers; and if you are very much at a loss about anything, +call me." + +"How shall I call you?" asked Hugh. + +"Whistle softly three times. Now, I think it is time to light up. +Peacocks." + +The peacocks, one on each side of the door, came forward solemnly, +saluting the raven with the greatest respect. + +"Ring," said the raven, and to Hugh's surprise each peacock lifted up a +claw, and taking hold of a bell-rope, of which there were two, one on +each side of the door, pulled them vigorously. No sound ensued, but at +the instant there burst forth the same soft yet brilliant light which +had so delighted Hugh when he first awoke, and which he now discovered +to come not from the moon, still shining in gently at the window of the +tapestry room down below, but from those of the castle at whose door he +was standing. He had never before noticed how many windows it had. +Jeanne and he had only remarked the door at the top of the steps, but +now the light which flowed out from above him was so clear and brilliant +that it seemed as if the whole castle must be transparent. Hugh stood +in eager expectation of what was to happen next, and was on the point of +speaking to the raven, standing, as he thought, beside him, when a +sudden sound made him turn round. It was that of the castle door +opening, and at the same moment the two peacocks, coming forward, pushed +him gently, one at each side, so that Hugh found himself obliged to +enter. He was by no means unwilling to do so, but he gave one last look +round for his conductor. He was gone. + +For about half a second Hugh felt a little frightened and bewildered. + +"I wish Dudu had come with me," he said. But almost before he had time +to think the wish, what he saw before him so absorbed his attention that +he forgot everything else. + +It was a long, long passage, high in the roof, though narrow of course +in comparison with its length, but wide enough for Hugh--for Hugh and +Jeanne hand-in-hand even--to walk along with perfect comfort and great +satisfaction, for oh, it was so prettily lighted up! You have, I +daresay, children, often admired in London or Paris, or some great town, +the rows of gas lamps lighting up at night miles of some very long +street. Fancy those lights infinitely brighter and clearer, and yet +softer than any lamps you ever saw, and each one of a different colour, +from the richest crimson to the softest pale blue, and you will have +some idea how pretty the long corridor before him looked to Hugh. He +stepped along delightedly, as well he might. "Why, this of itself is +worth staying awake ever so many nights to see," he said to himself; +"only I do wish Jeanne were with me." + +Where did the corridor lead to? He ran on and on for some time without +thinking much about this, so interested was he in observing the lamps +and the pretty way in which the tints were arranged; but after a while +he began to find it a little monotonous, especially when he noticed that +at long intervals the colours repeated themselves, the succession of +shades beginning again from time to time. + +"I shall learn them by heart if I go on here much longer," thought Hugh. +"I think I'll sit down a little to rest. Not that I feel tired of +walking, but I may as well sit down a little." + +He did so--on the ground, there was nothing else to sit on--and then a +very queer thing happened. The lamps took to moving instead of him, so +that when he looked up at them the impression was just the same as when +he himself had been running along. The colours succeeded each other in +the same order, and Hugh began to wonder whether his eyes were not +deceiving him in some queer way. + +"Anyhow, I'll run on a little farther," he said to himself, "and if I +don't come to the end of this passage soon, I'll run back again to the +other end. It feels just as if I had got inside a kaleidoscope." + +He hastened on, and was beginning really to think of turning back again +and running the other way, when, all of a sudden--everything in this +queer tapestry world he had got into seemed to happen all of a sudden--a +little bell was heard to ring, clear and silvery, but not very loud, and +in another instant--oh dear!--all the pretty coloured lamps were +extinguished, and poor Hugh was left standing all in the dark. Where he +was he did not know, what to do he did not know; had he not been eight +years old on his last birthday I almost think he would have begun to +cry. He felt, too, all of a sudden so cold, even though before he had +got out of bed he had taken the precaution to put on his red flannel +dressing-gown, and till now had felt quite pleasantly warm. It was only +for half a moment, however, that the idea of crying came over him. + +"I'm very glad poor little Jeanne isn't here," he said to himself by way +of keeping up his own courage; "she _would_ have been afraid. But as I'm +a boy it doesn't matter. I'll just try to find my way all the same. I +suppose it's some trick of that Dudu's." + +He felt his way along bravely for a few minutes, and more bravely still +was forcing back his tears, when a sound caught his ears. It was a +cock's crow, sharp and shrill, but yet sounding as if outside the place +where he was. Still it greatly encouraged Hugh, who continued to make +his way on in the dark, much pleased to find that the farther he got the +nearer and clearer sounded the crow, repeated every few seconds. And at +last he found himself at the end of the passage--he knew it must be so, +for in front of him the way was barred, and _quite_ close to him now +apparently, sounded the cock's shrill call. He pushed and pulled--for +some time in vain. If there were a door at this end of the passage, as +surely there must be--who would make a passage and hang it so +beautifully with lamps if it were to lead to nowhere?--it was a door of +which the handle was very difficult to find. + +"Oh dear!" exclaimed Hugh, half in despair, "what shall I do?" + +"Kurroo--kurroorulloo," sounded the cock's crow. "Try again," it seemed +to say, encouragingly. And at last Hugh's hand came in contact with a +little round knob, and as he touched it, all at once everything about +him was lighted up again with the same clear, lovely light coming from +the thousands of lamps down the long corridor behind him. But Hugh never +turned to look at them--what he saw in front of him was so delightful +and surprising. + +The door had opened, Hugh found himself standing at the top of two or +three steps, which apparently were the back approach to the strange long +passage which he had entered from the tapestry room. Outside it was +light too, but not with the wonderful bright radiance that had streamed +out from the castle at the other side. Here it was just very soft, very +clear moonlight. There were trees before him--almost it seemed as if he +were standing at the entrance of a forest. But, strange to say, they +were not winter trees, such as he had left behind him in the garden of +Jeanne's house--bare and leafless, or if covered at all, covered only +with their Christmas dress of snow and icicles--these trees were clothed +with the loveliest foliage, fresh and green and feathery, which no +winter's storms or nipping frosts had ever come near to blight. And in +the little space between the door where Hugh stood and these wonderful +trees was drawn up, as if awaiting him, the prettiest, queerest, most +delicious little carriage that ever was seen. It was open; the cushions +with which it was lined were of rose-coloured plush--not velvet, I +think; at least if they _were_ velvet, it was of some marvellous kind +that couldn't he rubbed the wrong way, that felt exquisitely smooth and +soft whichever way you stroked it; the body of the carriage was shaped +something like a cockle-shell; you could lie back in it so beautifully +without cricking or straining your neck or shoulders in the least; and +there was just room for two. One of these two was already comfortably +settled--shall I tell you who it was now, or shall I keep it for a +tit-bit at the end when I have quite finished about the carriage? Yes, +that will be better. For the funniest things about the carriage have to +be told yet. Up on the box, in the coachman's place, you understand, +holding with an air of the utmost importance in one claw a pair of +yellow silk reins, his tufted head surmounted by a gold-laced livery +hat, which, however, must have had a hole in the middle to let the tuft +through, for there it was in all its glory waving over the hat like a +dragoon's plume, sat, or stood rather, Houpet; while, standing behind, +holding on each with one claw to the back of the carriage, like real +footmen, were the two other chickens. They, too, had gold-laced hats and +an air of solemn propriety, not _quite_ so majestic as Houpet's, for in +their case the imposing tuft was wanting, but still very fine of its +kind. And who do you think were the horses? for there were two--or, to +speak more correctly, there were no horses at all, but in the place +where they should have been were harnessed, tandem-fashion, not abreast, +Nibble the guinea-pig and Grignan the tortoise! Nibble next to the +carriage, Grignan, of all creatures in the world, as leader. + +On sight of them Hugh began to laugh, so that he forgot to look more +closely at the person in the carriage, whose face he had not yet seen, +as it was turned the other way. But the sound of his laughing was too +infectious to be resisted--the small figure began to shake all over, and +at last could contain itself no longer. With a shout of merriment little +Jeanne, for it was she, sprang out of the carriage and threw her arms +round Hugh's neck. + +"O Chéri," she said, "I _couldn't_ keep quiet any longer, though I +wanted to hide my face till you had got into the carriage, and then +surprise you. But it was so nice to hear you laugh--I _couldn't_ keep +still." + +Hugh felt too utterly astonished to reply. He just stared at Jeanne as +if he could not believe his own eyes. And Jeanne did not look surprised +at all! That, to Hugh, was the most surprising part of the whole. + +"Jeanne!" he exclaimed, "you here! Why, Dudu told me you were ever so +far away." + +"And so I am," replied Jeanne, laughing again, "and so are you, Chéri. +You have no idea how far away you are--miles, and miles, and miles, only +in this country they don't have milestones. It's all quite different." + +"How do you mean?" asked Hugh. "How do you know all about it? You have +never been here before, have you? I couldn't quite understand Dudu--_he_ +meant, I think, that it was only your thinking part or your fancying +part, that was away." + +Jeanne laughed again, Hugh felt a little impatient. + +"_Jeanne_," he said, "do leave off laughing and speak to me. What is +this place? and how did you come here? and have you ever been here +before?" + +"Yes," said Jeanne, "I think so; but I don't know how I came. And I +don't want to do anything but laugh and have fun. Never mind how we +came. It's a beautiful country, any way, and did you _ever_ see anything +so sweet as the little carriage they've sent for us, and wasn't it nice +to see Houpet and all the others?" + +"Yes," said Hugh, "very. But whom do you mean by 'they,' Jeanne?" + +"Oh dear, dear!" exclaimed Jeanne, "what a terrible boy you are. Do +leave off asking questions, and let us have fun. Look, there are Grignan +and the little cochon quite eager to be off. Now, do jump in--we shall +have such fun." + +Hugh got in, willingly enough, though still he would have preferred to +have some explanation from Jeanne of all the strange things that were +happening. + +"_Isn't_ it nice?" said Jeanne, when they had both nestled down among +the delicious soft cushions of the carriage. + +"Yes," said Hugh, "it's very nice _now_, but it wasn't very nice when I +was all alone in the dark in that long passage. As you seem to know all +about everything, Jeanne, I suppose you know about that." + +He spoke rather, just a very little, grumpily, but Jeanne, rather to his +surprise, did not laugh at him this time. Instead, she looked up in his +face earnestly, with a strange deep look in her eyes. + +"I think very often we have to find our way in the dark," she said +dreamily. "I think I remember about that. But," she went on, with a +complete change of voice, her eyes dancing merrily as if they had never +looked grave in their life, "it's not dark now, Chéri, and it's going to +be ever so bright. Just look at the lovely moon through the trees. Do +let us go now. Gee-up, gee-up, crack your whip, Houpet, and make them +gallop as fast as you can." + +Off they set--they went nice and fast certainly, but not so fast but +that the children could admire the beautiful feathery foliage as they +passed. They drove through the forest--for the trees that Hugh had so +admired were those of a forest--on and on, swiftly but yet smoothly; +never in his life had Hugh felt any motion so delightful. + +"_What_ a good coachman Houpet is!" exclaimed Hugh. "I never should have +thought he could drive so well. How does he know the road, Jeanne?" + +"There isn't any road, so he doesn't need to know it," said Jeanne. +"Look before you, Chéri. You see there is no road. It makes itself as we +go, so we can't go wrong." + +Hugh looked straight before him. It was as Jeanne had said. The trees +grew thick and close in front, only dividing--melting away like a +mist--as the quaint little carriage approached them. + +Hugh looked at them with fresh surprise. + +"Are they not real trees?" he said. + +"Of course they are," said Jeanne. "Now they're beginning to change; +that shows we are getting to the middle of the forest. Look, look, +Chéri!" + +Hugh "looked" with all his eyes. What Jeanne called "changing" was a +very wonderful process. The trees, which hitherto had been of a very +bright, delicate green, began gradually to pale in colour, becoming +first greenish-yellow, then canary colour, then down to the purest +white. And from white they grew into silver, sparkling like innumerable +diamonds, and then slowly altered into a sort of silver-grey, gradually +rising into grey-blue, then into a more purple-blue, till they reached +the richest corn-flower shade. Then began another series of lessening +shades, which again, passing through a boundary line of gold, rose by +indescribable degrees to deep yet brilliant crimson. It would be +impossible to name all the variations through which they passed. I use +the names of the colours and shades which are familiar to you, +children, but the very naming any shade gives an unfair idea of the +marvellous delicacy with which one tint melted into another,--as well +try to divide and mark off the hues of a dove's breast, or of the sky at +sunset. And all the time the trees themselves were of the same form and +foliage as at first, the leaves--or fronds I feel inclined to call them, +for they were more like very, very delicate ferns or ferny grass than +leaves--with which each branch was luxuriantly clothed, seeming to bathe +themselves in each new colour as the petals of a flower welcome a flood +of brilliant sunshine. + +"Oh, how pretty!" said Hugh, with a deep sigh of pleasure. "It is like +the lamps, only much prettier. I think, Jeanne, this must be the country +of pretty colours." + +"This forest is called the Forest of the Rainbows. I know _that_," said +Jeanne. "But I don't think they call this the country of pretty colours, +Chéri. You see it is the country of so many pretty things. If we lived +in it always, we should never see the end of the beautiful things there +are. Only----" + +"Only what?" asked Hugh. + +"I don't think it would be a good plan to live in it _always_. Just +sometimes is best, I think. Either the things wouldn't be so pretty, or +our eyes wouldn't see them so well after a while. But see, Chéri, the +trees are growing common-coloured again, and Houpet is stopping. We must +have got to the end of the Forest of the Rainbows." + +"And where shall we be going to now?" asked Hugh. "Must we get out, do +you think, Jeanne? Oh, listen, I hear the sound of water! Do you hear +it, Jeanne? There must be a river near here. I wish the moonlight was a +little brighter. Now that the trees don't shine, it seems quite dull. +But oh, how plainly I hear the water. Listen, Jeanne, don't you hear it +too?" + +"Yes," said Jeanne. "It must be----" but before she had time to say more +they suddenly came out of the enchanted forest; in an instant every +trace of the feathery trees had disappeared. Houpet pulled up his +steeds, the two chickens got down from behind, and stood one on each +side of the carriage door, waiting apparently for their master and +mistress to descend. And plainer and nearer than before came the sound +of fast-rushing water. + +"You see we are to get down," said Hugh. + +"Yes," said Jeanne again, looking round her a little timidly. "Chéri, do +you know, I feel just a very, very little bit frightened. It is such a +queer place, and I don't know what we should do. Don't you think we'd +better ask Houpet to take us back again?" + +"Oh no," said Hugh. "I'm sure we'll be all right. You said you wanted to +have some fun, Jeanne, and you seemed to know all about it. You needn't +be frightened with _me_, Jeanne." + +"No, of course not," said Jeanne, quite brightly again; "but let us +stand up a minute, Hugh, before we get out of the carriage, and look all +about us. _Isn't_ it a queer place?" + +"It" was a wide, far-stretching plain, over which the moonlight shone +softly. Far or near not a shrub or tree was to be seen, yet it was not +like a desert, for the ground was entirely covered with most beautiful +moss, so fresh and green, even by the moonlight, that it was difficult +to believe the hot sunshine had ever glared upon it. And here and there, +all over this great plain--all over it, at least, as far as the children +could see--rose suddenly from the ground innumerable jets of water, not +so much like fountains as like little waterfalls turned the wrong way; +they rushed upwards with such surprising force and noise, and fell to +the earth again in numberless tiny threads much more gently and softly +than they left it. + +"It seems as if somebody must be shooting them up with a gun, doesn't +it?" said Hugh. "I never saw such queer fountains." + +"Let's go and look at them close," said Jeanne, preparing to get down. +But before she could do so, Houpet gave a shrill, rather peremptory +crow, and Jeanne stopped short in surprise. + +"What do you want, Houpet?" she said. + +By way of reply, Houpet hopped down from his box, and in some +wonderfully clever way of his own, before the children could see what he +was about, had unharnessed Nibble and Grignan. Then the three arranged +themselves in a little procession, and drew up a few steps from the side +of the carriage where still stood the chicken-footmen. Though they could +not speak, there was no mistaking their meaning. + +"They're going to show us the way," said Hugh; and as he spoke he jumped +out of the carriage, and Jeanne after him. + +[Illustration: ONWARDS QUIETLY STEPPED THE LITTLE PROCESSION.--p. 75.] + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +FROG-LAND. + + "They have a pretty island, + Whereon at night they rest; + They have a sparkling lakelet, + And float upon its breast." + THE TWO SWANS. + + +Onwards quietly stepped the little procession, Houpet first, his tuft +waving as usual, with a comfortable air of importance and satisfaction; +then Nibble and Grignan abreast--hand-in-hand, I was going to have said; +next Hugh and Jeanne; with the two attendant chickens behind bringing up +the rear. + +"I wonder where they are going to take us to," said Hugh in a low voice. +Somehow the soft light; the strange loneliness of the great plain, +where, now that they were accustomed to it, the rushing of the +numberless water-springs seemed to be but one single, steady sound; the +solemn behaviour of their curious guides, altogether, had subdued the +children's spirits. Jeanne said no more about "having fun," yet she did +not seem the least frightened or depressed; she was only quiet and +serious. + +"Where _do_ you think they are going to take us to?" repeated Hugh. + +"I don't know--at least I'm not sure," said Jeanne; "but, Chéri, isn't +it a good thing that Houpet and the others are with us to show us the +way, for though the ground looks so pretty it is quite boggy here and +there. I notice that Houpet never goes quite close to the fountains, and +just when I went the least bit near one a minute ago my feet began to +slip down." + +"I haven't felt it like that at all," said Hugh. "Perhaps it's because +of my wall-climbers. Dudu gave me a pair of wall-climbers like the +flies', you know, Jeanne." + +"Did he?" said Jeanne, not at all surprised, and as if wall-climbers +were no more uncommon than goloshes. "He didn't give me any, but then I +came a different way from you. I think every one comes a different way +to this country, do you know, Chéri?" + +"And very likely Dudu thought I could carry you if there was anywhere +you couldn't climb," said Hugh, importantly. "I'm sure I----" he stopped +abruptly, for a sudden crow from Houpet had brought all the party to a +standstill. At first the children could not make out why their guide had +stopped here--there was nothing to be seen. But pressing forward a few +steps to where Houpet stood, Hugh saw, imbedded in the moss at his feet, +a stone with a ring in it, just like those which one reads of in the +_Arabian Nights_. Houpet stood at the edge of the stone eyeing it +gravely, and somehow he managed to make Hugh understand that he was to +lift it. Nothing loth, but rather doubtful as to whether he would be +strong enough, the boy leant forward to reach the ring, first +whispering, however, to Jeanne, + +"It's getting like a quite real fairy tale, isn't it, Jeanne?" + +Jeanne nodded, but looked rather anxious. + +"I'm _afraid_ you can't lift it, Chéri," she said. "I think I'd better +stand behind and pull _you_--the ring isn't big enough for us both to +put our hands in it." + +Hugh made no objection to her proposal, so Jeanne put her arms round his +waist, and when he gave a great pug to the ring she gave a great pug to +him. The first time it was no use, the stone did not move in the least. + +"Try again," said Hugh, and try again they did. But no--the second try +succeeded no better than the first--and the children looked at each +other in perplexity. Suddenly there was a movement among the animals, +who had all been standing round watching the children's attempts; Jeanne +felt a sort of little pecking tug at her skirts--how it came about I +cannot say, but I think I forgot to tell you that, unlike Hugh in his +red flannel dressing gown, _she_ was arrayed for their adventures in her +best Sunday pelisse, trimmed with fur--and, looking round, lo and +behold! there was Houpet holding on to her with his beak, then came +Nibble, his two front paws embracing Houpet's feathered body, Grignan +behind him again, clutching with his mouth at Nibble's fur, and the two +chickens at the end holding on to Grignan and each other in some +indescribable and marvellous way. It was, for all the world, as if they +were preparing for the finish-up part of the game of "oranges and +lemons," or for that of "fox and geese!" + +The sight was so comical that it was all the children could do to keep +their gravity, they succeeded in doing so, however, fearing that it +might hurt the animals' feelings to seem to make fun of their well-meant +efforts. + +"Not that _they_ can be any use," whispered Hugh, "but it's very +good-natured of them all the same." + +"I am not so sure that they can't be of any use," returned Jeanne. +"Think of how well Houpet drove." + +"Here goes, then," said Hugh. "One, two, _three_;" and with "three" he +gave a tremendous tug--a much more tremendous tug than was required, +for, to his surprise, the stone yielded at once without the slightest +resistance, and back they all fell, one on the top of the other, Hugh, +Jeanne, Houpet, Nibble, Grignan, and the two chickens! But none of them +were any the worse, and with the greatest eagerness to see what was to +be seen where the stone had been, up jumped Hugh and Jeanne and ran +forward to the spot. + +"There should be," said Jeanne, half out of breath--"there _should_ be a +little staircase for us to go down, if it is like the stories in the +_Arabian Nights_." + +And, wonderful to relate, so there was! The children could hardly +believe their eyes, when below them they saw the most tempting little +spiral staircase of white stone or marble steps, with a neat little +brass balustrade at one side. It looked quite light all the way down, +though of course they could distinguish nothing at the bottom, as the +corkscrew twists of the staircase entirely filled up the space. + +Houpet hopped forward and stood at the top of the steps crowing softly. + +"He means that we're to go down," said Hugh. "Shall we?" + +"Of course," said Jeanne. "I'm not a bit afraid. We won't have any fun +if we don't go on." + +"Well then," said Hugh, "I'll go first as I'm a boy, just _in case_, you +know, Jeanne, of our meeting anything disagreeable." + +So down he went, Jeanne following close after. + +"I suppose Houpet and the others will come after us," said Jeanne, +rather anxiously. But just as she uttered the words a rather shrill crow +made both Hugh and her stop short and look up to the top. They saw +Houpet and the others standing round the edge of the hole. Houpet gave +another crow, in which the two chickens joined him, and then suddenly +the stone was shut down--the two children found themselves alone in this +strange place, leading to they knew not where! Jeanne gave a little +cry--Hugh, too, for a moment was rather startled, but he soon recovered +himself. + +"Jeanne," he said, "it must be all right. I don't think we need be +frightened. See, it is quite light! The light comes up from below--down +there it must be quite bright and cheerful. Give me your hand--if we go +down sideways--so--we can hold each other's hands all the way." + +So, in a rather queer fashion, they clambered down the long staircase. +By the time they got to its end they were really quite tired of turning +round and round so many times. But now the view before them was so +pleasant that they forgot all their troubles. + +They had found a little door at the foot of the stair, which opened +easily. They passed through it, and there lay before them a beautiful +expanse of water surrounded by hills; the door which had closed behind +them seemed on this side to have been cut out of the turf of the hill, +and was all but invisible. It was light, as Hugh had said, but not with +the light of either sun or moon; a soft radiance was over everything, +but whence it came they could not tell. The hills on each side of the +water, which was more like a calmly flowing river than a lake, prevented +their seeing very far, but close to the shore by which they stood a +little boat was moored--a little boat with seats for two, and one light +pair of oars. + +"Oh, how lovely!" said Jeanne. "It is even nicer than the carriage. Get +in, Hugh, and let us row down the river. The boat must be on purpose for +us." + +They were soon settled in it, and Hugh, though he had only rowed once or +twice before in his life, found it very easy and pleasant, and they went +over the water swiftly and smoothly. After a while the hills approached +more nearly, gradually the broad river dwindled to a mere stream, so +narrow and small at last, that even their tiny boat could go no farther. +Hugh was forced to leave off rowing. + +"I suppose we are meant to go on shore here," he said. "The boat won't +go any farther, any way." + +Jeanne was peering forward: just before them the brook, or what still +remained of it, almost disappeared in a narrow little gorge between the +hills. + +"Chéri," said she, "I shouldn't wonder if the stream gets wider again on +the other side of this little narrow place. Don't you think we'd better +try to pull the boat through, and then we might get into it again?" + +"Perhaps," said Hugh. "We may try." So out the children got--Jeanne +pulled in front, Hugh pushed behind. It was so very light that there was +no difficulty as to its weight; only the gorge was so narrow that at +last the boat stuck fast. + +"We'd better leave it and clamber through ourselves," said Hugh. + +"But, O Chéri, we can't!" cried Jeanne. "From where I am I can see that +the water gets wider again a little farther on. And the rocks come quite +sharp down to the side. There is nowhere we could clamber on to, and I +dare say the water is very deep. There are lots of little streams +trickling into it from the rocks, and the boat could go quite well if we +could but get it a little farther." + +"But we can't," said Hugh; "it just won't go." + +"Oh dear," said Jeanne, "we'll have to go back. But how should we find +the door in the hillside to go up the stair; or if we did get up, how +should we push away the stone? And even then, there would be the forest +to go through, and perhaps we couldn't find our way among the trees as +Houpet did. O Chéri, what shall we do?" + +Hugh stood still and considered. + +"I think," he said at last, "I think the time's come for whistling." + +And before Jeanne could ask him what he meant, he gave three clear, +short whistles, and then waited to see the effect. + +It was a most unexpected one. Hugh had anticipated nothing else than the +sudden appearance, somehow and somewhere, of Monsieur Dudu himself, as +large as life--possibly, in this queer country of surprises, where they +found themselves, a little larger! When and how he would appear Hugh was +perfectly at a loss to imagine--he might fly down from the sky; he +might spring up from the water; he might just suddenly stand before them +without their having any idea how he had come. Hugh laughed to himself +at the thought of Jeanne's astonishment, and after all it was Jeanne who +first drew his attention to what was really happening. + +"Hark, Chéri, hark!" she cried, "what a queer noise! What can it be?" + +Hugh's attention had been so taken up in staring about in every +direction for the raven that he had not noticed the sound which Jeanne +had heard, and which now increased every moment. + +It was a soft, swishy sound--as if innumerable little boats were making +their way through water, or as if innumerable little fairies were +bathing themselves, only every instant it came nearer and nearer, till +at last, on every side of the boat in which the children were still +standing, came creeping up from below lots and lots and _lots_ of small, +bright green frogs, who clambered over the sides and arranged themselves +in lines along the edges in the most methodical and orderly manner. +Jeanne gave a scream of horror, and darted across the boat to where Hugh +was standing. + +"O Chéri," she cried, "why did you whistle? It's all that naughty Dudu. +He's going to turn us into frogs too, I do believe, because he thinks I +laughed at him. Oh dear, oh dear, what shall we do?" + +Chéri himself, though not quite so frightened as Jeanne, was not much +pleased with the result of his summons to the raven. + +"It does look like a shabby trick," he said; "but still I do not think +the creatures mean to do us any harm. And I don't feel myself being +turned into a frog yet; do you, Jeanne?" + +"I don't know," said Jeanne, a very little comforted; "I don't know what +it would feel like to be turned into a frog; I've always been a little +girl, and so I can't tell. I feel rather creepy and chilly, but perhaps +it's only with seeing the frogs. What funny red eyes they've got. What +can they be going to do?" + +She forgot her fears in the interest of watching them; Hugh, too, stared +with all his eyes at the frogs, who, arranged in regular lines round the +edge of the boat, began working away industriously at something which, +for a minute or two, the children could not make out. At last Jeanne +called out eagerly, + +"They are throwing over little lines, Chéri--lots and lots of little +lines. There must be frogs down below waiting to catch them." + +So it was; each frog threw over several threads which he seemed to +unwind from his body; these threads were caught by something invisible +down below, and twisted round and round several times, till at last they +became as firm and strong as a fine twine. And when, apparently, the +frogs considered that they had made cables enough, they settled +themselves down, each firmly on his two hind legs, still holding by the +rope with their front ones, and then--in another moment--to the +children's great delight, they felt the boat beginning to move. It moved +on smoothly--almost as smoothly as when on the water--there were no jogs +or tugs, as might have been the case if it had been pulled by two or +three coarse, strong ropes, for all the hundreds of tiny cables pulling +together made one even force. + +"Why, how clever they are!" cried Jeanne. "We go as smoothly as if we +were on wheels. Nice little frogs. I am sure we are very much obliged to +them--aren't we, Chéri?" + +"And to Dudu," observed Hugh. + +Jeanne shrugged her shoulders. She was not over and above sure of Dudu +even now. + +The boat moved along for some time; the pass between the hills was dark +and gloomy, and though the water got wider, as Jeanne had seen, it would +not for some distance have been possible for the children to row. After +a time it suddenly grew much lighter; they came out from the narrow pass +and found themselves but a few yards from a sheet of still water with +trees all round it--a sort of mountain lake it seemed, silent and +solitary, and reflecting back from its calm bosom the soft, silvery, +even radiance which since they came out from the door on the hillside +had been the children's only light. + +And in the middle of this lake lay a little island--a perfect nest of +trees, whose long drooping branches hung down into the water. + +"Oh, do let us row on to the island," said Jeanne eagerly, for by this +time the frogs had drawn them to the edge of the lake; there could no +longer be any difficulty in rowing for themselves. + +"First, any way, we must thank the frogs," said Hugh, standing up. He +would have taken off his cap if he had had one on; as it was, he could +only bow politely. + +As he did so, each frog turned round so as to face him, and each gave a +little bob of the head, which, though not very graceful, was evidently +meant as an acknowledgment of Hugh's courtesy. + +"They are very polite frogs," whispered Hugh. "Jeanne, do stand up and +bow to them too." + +Jeanne, who all this time had been sitting with her feet tucked up under +her, showed no inclination to move. + +"I don't like to stand up," she said, "for fear the frogs should run up +my legs. But I can thank them just as well sitting down. Frogs," she +added, "frogs, I am very much obliged to you, and I hope you will excuse +my not standing up." + +The frogs bowed again, which was very considerate of them; then suddenly +there seemed a movement among them, those at the end of the boat drew +back a little, and a frog, whom the children had not hitherto specially +observed, came forward and stood in front of the others. He was bigger, +his colour was a brighter green, and his eyes more brilliantly red. He +stood up on his hind legs and bowed politely. Then, after clearing his +throat, of which there was much need, for even with this precaution it +sounded very croaky, he addressed the children. + +"Monsieur and Mademoiselle," he began, "are very welcome to what we have +done for them--the small service we have rendered. Monsieur and +Mademoiselle, I and my companions"--"He should say, 'My companions and +I,'" whispered Jeanne--"are well brought up frogs. We know our place in +society. We disapprove of newfangled notions. We are frogs--we desire to +be nothing else, and we are deeply sensible of the honour Monsieur and +Mademoiselle have done us by this visit." + +"He really speaks very nicely," said Jeanne in a whisper. + +"Before Monsieur and Mademoiselle bid us farewell--before they leave our +shores," continued the frog with a wave of his "top legs," as Jeanne +afterwards called them, "we should desire to give them what, without +presumption, I may call a treat. Monsieur and Mademoiselle are, +doubtless, aware that in our humble way we are artists. Our +weakness--our strength I should rather say--is music. Our croaking +concerts are renowned far and wide, and by a most fortunate coincidence +one is about to take place, to celebrate the farewell--the departure to +other regions--of a songster whose family fame for many ages has been +renowned. Monsieur and Mademoiselle, to-night is to be heard for the +first time in this century the 'Song of the Swan.'" + +"The song of the swan," repeated Hugh, rather puzzled; "I didn't know +swans ever sang. I thought it was just an old saying that they sing once +only--when they are dying." + +The frog bowed. + +"Just so," he said; "it is the truth. And, therefore, the extreme +difficulty of assisting at so unique a performance. It is but +seldom--not above half-a-dozen times in the recollection of the oldest +of my venerated cousins, the toads, that such an opportunity has +occurred--and as to whether human ears have _ever_ before been regaled +with what you are about to enjoy, you must allow me, Monsieur and +Mademoiselle, with all deference to your race, for whom naturally we +cherish the highest respect, to express a doubt." + +"It's a little difficult to understand quite what he means, isn't it, +Chéri?" whispered Jeanne. "But, of course, we mustn't say so. It might +hurt his feelings." + +"Yes," agreed Hugh, "it might. But we must say something polite." + +"You say it," said Jeanne. "I really daren't stand up, and it's not so +easy to make a speech sitting down." + +"Monsieur Frog, we are very much obliged to you," began Hugh. "Please +tell all the other frogs so too. We would like very much to hear the +concert. When does it begin, and where will it be?" + +"All round the lake the performers will be stationed," replied the frog +pompously. "The chief artist occupies the island which you see from +here. If you move forward a little--to about half-way between the shore +and the island--you will, I think, be excellently placed. But first," +seeing that Hugh was preparing to take up the oars, "first, you will +allow us, Monsieur and Mademoiselle, to offer you a little +collation--some slight refreshment after all the fatigues of your +journey to our shores." + +"Oh dear! oh dear!" whispered Jeanne in a terrible fright; "please say +'No, thank you,' Chéri. I _know_ they'll be bringing us that horrid +green stuff for soup." + +"Thank you very much," said Hugh; "you are very kind indeed, Monsieur +Frog, only, really, we're not hungry." + +"A little refreshment--a mere nothing," said the frog, waving his hands +in an elegantly persuasive manner. "Tadpoles"--in a brisk, authoritative +tone--"tadpoles, refreshments for our guests." + +Jeanne shivered, but nevertheless could not help watching with +curiosity. Scores of little tadpoles came hopping up the sides of the +boat, each dozen or so of them carrying among them large water-lily +leaves, on each of which curious and dainty-looking little cakes and +bonbons were arranged. The first that was presented to Jeanne contained +neat little biscuits about the size of a half-crown piece, of a tempting +rich brown colour. + +"Flag-flour cakes," said the frog. "We roast and grind the flour in our +own mills. You will find them good." + +Jeanne took one and found it very good. She would have taken another, +but already a second tray-ful or leaf-ful was before her, with +pinky-looking balls. + +"Those are made from the sugar of water-brambles," remarked the frog, +with a self-satisfied smile. "No doubt you are surprised at the delicacy +and refinement of our tastes. Many human beings are under the deplorable +mistake of supposing we live on slimy water and dirty insects--ha, ha, +ha! whereas our cuisine is astounding in variety and delicacy of +material and flavour. If it were not too late in the season, I wish you +could have tasted our mushroom pâtés and minnows' eggs vols-au-vent." + +"Thank you," said Hugh, "what we have had is very nice indeed." + +"I _couldn't_ eat minnows' eggs," whispered Jeanne, looking rather +doubtfully at the succession of leaf trays that continued to appear. She +nibbled away at some of the least extraordinary-looking cakes, which the +frog informed her were made from the pith of rushes roasted and ground +down, and then flavoured with essence of marsh marigold, and found them +nearly as nice as macaroons. Then, having eaten quite as much as they +wanted, the tadpoles handed to each a leaf of the purest water, which +they drank with great satisfaction. + +"Now," said Hugh, "we're quite ready for the concert. Shall I row out to +the middle of the lake, Monsieur Frog?" + +"Midway between the shore and the island," said the frog; "that will be +the best position;" and, as by this time all the frogs that had been +sitting round the edge of the boat had disappeared, Hugh took the oars +and paddled away. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE SONG OF THE SWAN. + + "----If I were on that shore, + I should live there and not die, but sing evermore." + JEAN INGELOW. + + +"About here will do, I should think--eh, Monsieur Frog?" said Hugh, +resting on his oars half-way to the island. But there was no answer. The +frog had disappeared. + +"What a queer way all these creatures behave, don't they, Jeanne?" he +said. "First Dudu, then Houpet and the others. They go off all of a +sudden in the oddest way." + +"I suppose they have to go when we don't need them any more," said +Jeanne. "I daresay they are obliged to." + +"Who obliges them?" said Hugh. + +"Oh, I don't know! The fairies, I suppose," said Jeanne. + +"Was it the fairies you meant when you kept saying 'they'?" asked Hugh. + +"I don't know--perhaps--it's no use asking me," said Jeanne. "Fairies, +or dream-spirits, or something like that. Never mind who they are if +they give us nice things. I am sure the frogs have been _very_ kind, +haven't they?" + +"Yes; you won't be so afraid of them now, will you, Jeanne?" + +"Oh, I don't know. I daresay I shall be, for they're quite different +from _our_ frogs. Ours aren't so bright green, and their eyes aren't +red, and they can't _talk_. Oh no, our frogs are quite different from +_theirs_, Chéri," she added with profound conviction. + +"Just like our trees and everything else, I suppose," said Hugh. +"Certainly this is a funny country. But hush, Jeanne! I believe the +concert's going to begin." + +They sat perfectly still to listen, but for a minute or two the sound +which had caught Hugh's attention was not repeated. Everything about +them was silent, except that now and then a soft faint breeze seemed to +flutter across the water, slightly rippling its surface as it passed. +The strange, even light which had shone over all the scene ever since +the children had stepped out at the hillside door had now grown paler: +it was not now bright enough to distinguish more than can be seen by an +autumn twilight. The air was fresh and clear, though not the least cold; +the drooping forms of the low-hanging branches of the island trees gave +the children a melancholy feeling when they glanced in that direction. + +"I don't like this very much," said Jeanne. "It makes me sad, and I +wanted to have fun." + +"It must be sad for the poor swan if it's going to die," said Hugh. "But +I don't mind this sort of sad feeling. I think it's rather nice. Ah! +Jeanne, listen, there it is again. They must be going to begin." + +"It" was a low sort of "call" which seemed to run round the shores of +the lake like a preliminary note, and then completely died away. +Instantly began from all sides the most curious music that Hugh and +Jeanne had ever heard. It was croaking, but croaking in unison and +regular time, and harsh as it was, there was a very strange charm about +it--quite impossible to describe. It sounded pathetic at times, and at +times monotonous, and yet inspiriting, like the beating of a drum; and +the children listened to it with actual enjoyment. It went on for a good +while, and then stopped as suddenly as it had begun; and then again, +after some minutes of perfect silence, it recommenced in a low and +regular chant--if such a word can be used for croaking--a steady, +regular croak, croak, as if an immense number of harsh-sounding +instruments were giving forth one note in such precise tune and measure +that the harshness was softened and lost by the union of sound. It grew +lower and lower, seeming almost to be about to die altogether away, +when, from another direction--from the tree-shaded island in the centre +of the lake--rose, low and faint at first, gathering strange strength as +it mounted ever higher and higher, the song of the swan. + +The children listened breathlessly and in perfect silence to the +wonderful notes which fell on their ears--notes which no words of mine +could describe, for in themselves they were words, telling of suffering +and sorrow, of beautiful things and sad things, of strange fantastic +dreams, of sunshine and flowers and summer days, of icy winds from the +snow-clad hills, and days of dreariness and solitude. Each and all came +in their turn; but, at the last, all melted, all grew rather, into one +magnificent song of bliss and triumph, of joyful tenderness and +brilliant hope, too pure and perfect to be imagined but in a dream. And +as the last clear mellow notes fell on the children's ears, a sound of +wings seemed to come with them, and gazing ever more intently towards +the island they saw rising upwards the pure white snow-like +bird--upwards and upwards, ever higher, till at last, with the sound of +its own joyous song, it faded and melted into the opal radiance of the +calm sky above. + +For long the children gazed after it--a spot of light seemed to linger +for some time in the sky just where it had disappeared--almost, to their +fancy, as if the white swan was resting there, again to return to earth. +But it was not so. Slowly, like the light of a dying star, the +brightness faded; there was no longer a trace of the swan's radiant +flight; again a soft low breeze, like a farewell sigh, fluttered across +the lake, and the children withdrew their eyes from the sky and looked +at each other. + +"Jeanne!" said Hugh. + +"Chéri!" said Jeanne. + +"What was it? Was it not an angel, and not a swan?" + +Jeanne shook her little head in perplexity. + +"I don't know," she said. "It was wonderful. Did you hear all it told, +Chéri?" + +"Yes," said Hugh. "But no one could ever tell it again, Jeanne. It is a +secret for us." + +"And for the frogs," added Jeanne. + +"And for the frogs," said Hugh. + +"But," said Jeanne, "I thought the swan was going to die. _That_ was not +dying." + +"Yes," said the queer croaking voice of the frog, suddenly reappearing +on the edge of the boat; "yes, my children," he repeated, with a strange +solemnity, "for such as the swan that _is_ dying. And now once more--for +you will never see me again, nor revisit this country--once again, my +children, I bid you farewell." + +He waved his hands in adieu, and hopped away. + +"Chéri," said Jeanne, after a short silence, "I feel rather sad, and a +very little sleepy. Do you think I might lie down a little--it is not +the least cold--and take a tiny sleep? You might go to sleep too, if you +like. I should think there will be time before we row back to the shore, +only I do not know how we shall get the boat through the narrow part if +the frogs have all gone. And no doubt Houpet and the others will be +wondering why we are so long." + +"We can whistle for Dudu again if we need," said Hugh. "He helped us +very well the last time. I too am rather sleepy, Jeanne, but still I +think I had better not go _quite_ asleep. You lie down, and I'll just +paddle on very slowly and softly for a little, and when you wake up +we'll fix whether we should whistle or not." + +Jeanne seemed to fall asleep in a moment when she lay down. Hugh paddled +on quietly, as he had said, thinking dreamily of the queer things they +had seen and heard in this nameless country inside the tapestry door. He +did not feel troubled as to how they were to get back again; he had +great faith in Dudu, and felt sure it would all come right. But +gradually he too began to feel very sleepy; the dip of the oars and the +sound of little Jeanne's regular breathing seemed to keep time together +in a curious way. And at last the oars slipped from Hugh's hold; he lay +down beside Jeanne, letting the boat drift; he was so _very_ sleepy, he +could keep up no more. + +But after a minute or two when, not _quite_ asleep, he lay listening to +the soft breathing of the little girl, it seemed to him he heard still +the gentle dip of the oars. The more he listened, the more sure he +became that it was so, and at last his curiosity grew so great that it +half overcame his drowsiness. He opened his eyes just enough to look up. +Yes, he was right, the boat was gliding steadily along, the oars were +doing their work, and who do you think were the rowers? Dudu on one +side, Houpet on the other, rowing away as cleverly as if they had never +done anything else in their lives, steadying themselves on one claw, +rowing with the other. Hugh did not feel the least surprised; he smiled +sleepily, and turned over quite satisfied. + +"They'll take us safe back," he said to himself: and that was all he +thought about it. + +"Good-night, Chéri, good-night," was the next thing he heard, or +remembered hearing. + +Hugh half sat up and rubbed his eyes. + +Where was he? + +Not in the boat, there was no sound of oars, the light that met his gaze +was not that of the strange country where Jeanne and he had had all +these adventures, it was just clear ordinary moonlight; and as for where +he was, he was lying on the floor of the tapestry room close to the part +of the wall where stood, or hung, the castle with the long flight of +steps, which Jeanne and he had so wished to enter. And from the other +side of the tapestry--from inside the castle, one might almost say--came +the voice he had heard in his sleep, the voice which seemed to have +awakened him. + +"Good-night, Chéri," it said, "good-night. I have gone home the other +way." + +"Jeanne, Jeanne, where are you? Wait!" cried Hugh, starting to his feet. +But there was no reply. + +Hugh looked all round. The room seemed just the same as usual, and if he +had looked out of the window, though this he did not know, he would have +seen the old raven on the terrace marching about, and, in his usual +philosophical way, failing the sunshine, enjoying the moonlight; while +down in the chickens' house, in the corner of the yard, Houpet and his +friends were calmly roosting; fat little Nibble soundly sleeping in his +cage, cuddled up in the hay; poor, placid Grignan reposing in his usual +corner under the laurel bush. All these things Hugh would have seen, and +would no doubt have wondered much at them. But though neither tired nor +cold, he was still sleepy, very sleepy, so, after another stare all +round, he decided that he would defer further inquiry till the morning, +and in the meantime follow the advice of Jeanne's farewell "good-night." + +And "after all," he said to himself, as he climbed up into his +comfortable bed, "after all, bed is very nice, even though that little +carriage was awfully jolly, and the boat almost better. What fun it will +be to talk about it all to-morrow morning with Jeanne." + +It was rather queer when to-morrow morning came--when he woke to find it +had come, at least; it was rather queer to see everything looking just +the same as on other to-morrow mornings. Hugh had not time to think very +much about it, for it had been Marcelline's knock at the door that had +wakened him, and she told him it was rather later than usual. Hugh, +however, was so eager to see Jeanne and talk over with her their +wonderful adventures that he needed no hurrying. But, to his surprise, +when he got to Jeanne's room, where as usual their "little breakfast" +was prepared for them on the table by the fire, Jeanne was seated on her +low chair, drinking her coffee in her every-day manner, not the least +different from what she always was, not in any particular hurry to see +him, nor, apparently, with anything particular to say. + +"Well, Chéri," she said, merrily, "you are rather late this morning. +Have you slept well?" + +Hugh looked at her; there was no mischief in her face; she simply meant +what she said. In his astonishment, Hugh rubbed his eyes and then stared +at her again. + +"Jeanne," he said, quite bewildered. + +"Well, Chéri," she repeated, "what is the matter? How funny you look!" +and in her turn Jeanne seemed surprised. + +Hugh looked round; old Marcelline had left the room. + +"Jeanne," he said, "it is so queer to see you just the same as usual, +with nothing to say about it all." + +"About all what?" said Jeanne, seemingly more and more puzzled. + +"About our adventures--the drive in the carriage, with Houpet as +coachman, and the stair down to the frog's country, and the frogs and +the boat, and the concert, and O Jeanne! the song of the swan." + +Jeanne opened wide her eyes. + +"Chéri!" she said, "you've been dreaming all these funny things." + +Hugh was so hurt and disappointed that he nearly began to cry. + +"O Jeanne," he said, "it is very unkind to say that," and he turned away +quite chilled and perplexed. + +Jeanne ran after him and threw her arms round his neck. + +"Chéri, Chéri," she said, "I didn't mean to vex you, but I _don't_ +understand." + +Hugh looked into her dark eyes with his earnest blue ones. + +"Jeanne," he said, "don't you remember _any_ of it--don't you remember +the trees changing their colours so prettily?--don't you remember the +frogs' banquet?" + +Jeanne stared at him so earnestly that she quite frowned. + +"I think--I think," she said, and then she stopped. "When you say that +of the trees, I think I did see rainbow colours all turning into each +other. I think, Chéri, part of me was there and part not; can there be +two of me, I wonder? But please, Chéri, don't ask me any more. It +puzzles me so, and then perhaps I may say something to vex you. Let us +play at our day games now, Chéri, and never mind about the other things. +But if you go anywhere else like that, ask the fairies to take me too, +for I always like to be with you, you know, Chéri." + +So they kissed and made friends. But still it seemed very queer to Hugh. +Till now Jeanne had always been eager to talk about the tapestry castle, +and full of fancies about Dudu and Houpet and the rest of the animals, +and anxious to hear Hugh's dreams. Now she seemed perfectly content with +her every-day world, delighted with a new and beautiful china +dinner-service which her godmother had sent her, and absorbed in cooking +all manner of wonderful dishes for a grand dolls' feast, for which she +was sending invitations to all her dolls, young and old, ugly and +pretty, armless, footless, as were some, in the perfection of Parisian +toilettes as were others. For she had, like most only daughters, an +immense collection of dolls, though she was not as fond of them as many +little girls. + +"I thought you didn't much care for dolls. It was one of the things I +liked you for at the first," said Hugh, in a slightly aggrieved tone of +voice. Lessons were over, and the children were busy at the important +business of cooking the feast. Hugh didn't mind the cooking; he had even +submitted to a paper cap which Jeanne had constructed for him on the +model of that of the "chef" downstairs; he found great consolation in +the beating up an egg which Marcelline had got for them as a great +treat, and immense satisfaction in watching the stewing, in one of +Jeanne's toy pans on the nursery fire, of a preparation of squashed +prunes, powdered chocolate, and bread crumbs, which was to represent a +"ragout à la"--I really do not remember what. + +"I thought you didn't care for dolls, Jeanne," Hugh repeated. "It would +be ever so much nicer to have all the animals at our feast. We could put +them on chairs all round the table. That _would_ be some fun." + +"They wouldn't sit still one minute," said Jeanne. "How funny you are to +think of such a thing, Chéri! Of course it would be fun if they _would_, +but fancy Dudu and Grignan helping themselves with knives and forks like +people." + +Jeanne burst out laughing at the idea, and laughed so heartily that Hugh +could not help laughing too. But all the same he said to himself, + +"I'm sure Dudu and the others _could_ sit at the table and behave like +ladies and gentlemen if they chose. How _very_ funny of Jeanne to forget +about all the clever things they did! But it is no use saying any more +to her. It would only make us quarrel. There must be two Jeannes, or +else 'they,' whoever they are, make her forget on purpose." + +And as Hugh, for all his fancifulness, was a good deal of a philosopher, +he made up his mind to amuse himself happily with little Jeanne as she +was. The feast was a great success. The dolls behaved irreproachably, +with which their owner was rather inclined to twit Hugh, when, just at +the end of the banquet, greatly to his satisfaction, a certain +Mademoiselle Zéphyrine, a blonde with flaxen ringlets and turquoise +blue eyes, suddenly toppled over, something having no doubt upset her +equilibrium, and fell flat on her nose on the table. + +"Ah!" cried Jeanne, greatly concerned, "my poor Zéphyrine has fainted," +and, rushing forward to her assistance, worse results followed. Mesdames +Lili and Joséphine, two middle-aged ladies somewhat the worse for wear, +overcome by the distressing spectacle, _or_ by the sleeve of Jeanne's +dress as she leant across them, fell off their chairs too--one, like +Zéphyrine, on to the table, the other on to the floor, dragging down +with her the plateful of ragout in front of her, while her friend's +sudden descent upon the table completed the general knockings over and +spillings which Zéphyrine had begun. + +"Oh dear! oh dear!" cried Jeanne; "all the chocolate ragout is spilt, +and the whipped-up egg is mixed with the orange-juice soup. Oh dear! oh +dear! and I thought we should have had the whole feast to eat up +ourselves after the dolls had had enough." + +"Yes," said Hugh, "that's what comes of having stupid sticks of dolls at +your feasts. The _animals_ wouldn't have behaved like that." + +But, seeing that poor Jeanne was really in tears at this unfortunate +termination of her entertainment, he left off teasing her, and having +succeeded in rescuing some remains of the good things, they sat down on +the floor together and ate them up very amicably. + +"I don't think I _do_ care much for dolls," said Jeanne meditatively, +when she had munched the last crumbs of the snipped-up almonds, which +were supposed to represent some very marvellous dish. ("I like almonds +terribly--don't you, Chéri?") she added, as a parenthesis. "No, I don't +care for dolls. You are quite right about them; they _are_ stupid, and +you can't make fancies about them, because their faces always have the +same silly look. I don't know what I like playing at best. O +Marcelline!" she exclaimed, as the old nurse just then came into the +room, "O Marcelline! _do_ tell us a story; we are tired of playing." + +"Does Monsieur Chéri, too, wish me tell him a story?" asked Marcelline, +looking curiously at Hugh. + +"Yes, of course," said Hugh. "Why do you look at me that funny way, +Marcelline?" + +"Why," said Marcelline, smiling, "I was thinking only that perhaps +Monsieur finds so many stories in the tapestry that he would no longer +care for my stupid little old tales." + +Hugh did not answer. He was wondering to himself what Marcelline really +meant; whether she knew of the wonders concealed behind the tapestry, or +was only teasing him a little in the kind but queer way she sometimes +did. + +"Marcelline," he said suddenly at last, "I don't understand you." + +"Do you understand yourself, my little Monsieur?" said Marcelline. "Do +any of us understand ourselves? all the different selves that each of us +is?" + +"No," said Hugh, "I daresay we don't. It is very puzzling; it's all very +puzzling." + +"In the country where I lived when I was a little girl," began +Marcelline, but Jeanne interrupted her. + +"Have you never been there since, Marcelline?" she asked. + +Marcelline smiled again her funny smile. + +"Oh dear, yes," she said; "often, very often. I should not have been +near so happy as I am if I had not often visited that country." + +"Dear me," exclaimed Jeanne, "how very queer! I had no idea of that. You +haven't been there for a great many years any way, Marcelline. I heard +mamma telling a lady the other day that she never remembered your going +away, not even for a day--never since she was born." + +"Ah!" said Marcelline, "but, Mademoiselle, we don't always know what +even those nearest us do. I might have gone to that country without your +mamma knowing. Sometimes we are far away when those beside us think us +close to them." + +"Yes," said Hugh, looking up suddenly, "that is true, Marcelline." + +What she said made him remember Dudu's remark about Jeanne the night +before, that she was far, far away, and he began to feel that Marcelline +understood much that she seldom alluded to. + +But Jeanne took it up differently. She jumped on to Marcelline's knee +and pretended to beat her. + +"You naughty little old woman," she said; "you very naughty little old +woman, to say things like that to puzzle me--just what you know I don't +like. Go back to your own country, naughty old Marcelline; go back to +your fairyland, or wherever it was you came from, if you are going to +tease poor little Jeanne so." + +"_Tease_ you, Mademoiselle?" Marcelline repeated. + +"Yes, tease me," insisted Jeanne. "You know I hate people to go on +about things I don't understand. Now you're to tell us a story at once, +do you hear, Marcelline?" + +Hugh said nothing, but he looked up in Marcelline's face with his grave +blue eyes, and the old woman smiled again. She seemed as if she was +going to speak, when just then a servant came upstairs to say that +Jeanne's mother wished the children to go downstairs to her for a +little. Jeanne jumped up, delighted to welcome any change. + +"You must keep the story for another day, Marcelline," she said, as she +ran out of the room. + +"I am getting too old to tell stories," said Marcelline, half to +herself, half to Hugh, who was following his cousin more slowly. He +stopped for a moment. + +"Too old?" he repeated. + +"Yes, Monsieur Chéri, too old," the nurse replied. "The thoughts do not +come so quickly as they once did, and the words, too, hobble along like +lamesters on crutches." + +"But," said Hugh, half timidly, "it is never--you would never, I mean, +be too old to visit that country, where there are so many stories to be +found?" + +"Perhaps not," said Marcelline, "but even if I found them, I might not +be able to tell them. Go and look for them for yourself, Monsieur +Chéri; you have not half seen the tapestry castle yet." + +But when Hugh would have asked her more she would not reply, only smiled +and shook her head. So the boy went slowly downstairs after Jeanne, +wondering what old Marcelline could mean, half puzzled and half pleased. + +"Only," he said to himself, "if I get into the castle, Jeanne really +must come with me, especially if it is to hear stories." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +WINGS AND CATS. + + "And all their cattish gestures plainly spoke + They thought the affair they'd come upon no joke." + CHARLES LAMB. + + +Some days went on, and nothing more was said by the children about the +adventures which had so puzzled poor Hugh. After a while he seemed to +lose the wish to talk about them to little Jeanne; or rather, he began +to feel as if he could not, that the words would not come, or that if +they did, they would not tell what he wanted. He thought about the +strange things he had seen very often, but it was as if he had read of +them rather than as if he had seen and heard them, or as if they had +happened to some one else. Whenever he saw Dudu and Houpet and the rest +of the pets, he looked at them at first in a half dreamy way, wondering +if they too were puzzled about it all, or if, being really fairies, they +did not find anything to puzzle them! The only person (for, after all, +he could often not prevent himself from looking upon all the animals as +persons)--the only person who he somehow felt sure _did_ understand him, +was Marcelline, and this was a great satisfaction. She said nothing; she +almost never even smiled in what Jeanne called her "funny" way; but +there was just a very tiny little undersound in the tone of her voice +sometimes, a little wee smile in her eyes more than on her lips, that +told Hugh that, fairy or no fairy, old Marcelline knew all about it, and +it pleased him to think so. + +One night when Hugh was warmly tucked up in bed Marcelline came in as +usual before he went to sleep to put out his light. + +"There's been no moonlight for a good while Marcelline, has there?" he +said. + +"No, Monsieur, there has not," said Marcelline. + +"Will it be coming back soon?" asked Hugh. + +"Do you like it so much, my child?" said the old nurse. She had a funny +way of sometimes answering a question by asking another. + +"Yes," said Hugh. "At least, of course when I'm fast asleep it doesn't +matter to me if it's moonlight or not. But you know what I like it for, +Marcelline, and you said the other day that I hadn't half seen the +tapestry castle, and I want very much to see it, Marcelline, only I'd +like Jeanne to be with me; for I don't think I could tell her well about +the fairy things if she hadn't been with me. She didn't seem to +understand the words, and I don't think I could get the right ones to +tell, do you know, Marcelline?" + +He half sat up in bed, resting his head on his elbow, which was leaning +on the pillow, and looking up in the old woman's face with his earnest +blue eyes. Marcelline shook her head slowly. + +"No," she said, "you're right. The words wouldn't come, and if they did, +it would be no use. You're older than Mademoiselle Jeanne, Monsieur +Hugh, and it's different for her. But it doesn't matter--the days bring +their own pleasures and interests, which the moonlight wouldn't suit. +You wouldn't have cared for a dinner like what you have every day when +you were listening to the song of the swan?" + +"No, certainly not," said Hugh. "I see you do understand, Marcelline, +better than anybody. It must be as I said; there must be two of me, and +two of Jeanne, and two of you, and----" + +"And two of everything," said Marcelline; "and the great thing is to +keep each of the twos in its right place." + +She smiled now, right out, and was turning away with the light in her +hand, when Hugh called after her, + +"_Will_ the moonlight nights come again soon, Marcelline? Do tell me. +I'm sure you know." + +"Have a little patience," said the old nurse, "you shall be told. Never +fear." + +And, a little inclined to be _im_patient, Hugh was nevertheless obliged +to shut his eyes and go to sleep. There was no moonlight _that_ night +any way. + +But not many nights after there came a great surprise. + +Curiously enough Hugh had gone to sleep _that_ night without any thought +of tapestry adventures. He and Jeanne had been very merry indeed; they +had been dressing up, and playing delightful tricks--such as tapping at +the salon door, and on being told to come in, making their appearance +like two very, very old peasants, hobbling along on sticks--Jeanne with +a cap and little knitted shawl of Marcelline's, Hugh with a blouse and +cotton nightcap, so that Jeanne's mother quite jumped at first sight of +the quaint little figures. Then Jeanne dressed up like a fairy, and +pretended to turn Hugh into a guinea-pig, and they got Nibble up into +the nursery, and Hugh hid in a cupboard, and tried to make his voice +sound as if it came from Nibble, and the effect of his ventriloquism was +so comical that the children laughed till they actually rolled on the +floor. And they had hardly got over the laughing--though Marcelline did +her best to make them sit still for half an hour or so before going to +bed--when it was time to say good-night and compose themselves to sleep. + +"I shan't be able to go to sleep for ever so long," said Hugh; "I shall +stay awake all the night, I believe." + +"Oh no, you won't," said Marcelline, with a smile, as she went off with +the light. + +And strange to say, hardly had she shut the door when Hugh did fall +asleep--soundly asleep. He knew no more about who he was, or where he +was, or anything--he just slept as soundly as a little top, without +dreaming or starting in the least, for--dear me, I don't know for how +long!--any way it must have been for several hours, when--in the strange +sudden way in which once or twice before it had happened to him to awake +in this curious tapestry room, he opened his eyes as if startled by an +electric shock, and gazed out before him, as much awake as if he had +never been asleep in his life. + +What had awakened him, and what did he see? He could hardly have told +what had awakened him but for what he _now_ saw and heard. A voice, a +very well-known little voice, was speaking to him. "Chéri dear," it +said, "Chéri, I have come for you. And see what I have got for you." And +there before him stood little Jeanne--but Jeanne as he had never seen +her before. She seemed all glistening and shining--her dress was of some +kind of sparkling white, and round her waist was a lovely silver +girdle--her sleeves too were looped up with silver bands, and, prettiest +of all, two snow-white wings were fastened to her shoulders. She looked +like a fairy queen, or like a silvery bird turned into a little girl. +And in her hand she held another pair of wings exactly like her own. + +Hugh gazed at her. + +"Have you been dressing up?" he said, "and in the middle of the night? +oh how funny! But O, Jeanne, how pretty you look!" + +Jeanne laughed merrily. "Come, get up quick, then," she said, "and I'll +make you pretty too. Only I can't promise you a head-dress like mine, +Chéri." + +She gave her head a little toss, which made Hugh look at it. And now he +noticed that on it she wore something very funny indeed, which at first, +being black--for Jeanne's hair, you know, was black too--had not caught +his attention. At first he thought it was some kind of black silk hood +or cap, such as he had seen worn by some of the peasants in Switzerland, +but looking again--no, it was nothing of the kind--the head-dress had a +head of its own, and as Hugh stared, it cocked it pertly on one side in +a way Hugh would have known again anywhere. Yes, it was Dudu, sitting on +Jeanne's smooth little head as comfortably as if he had always been +intended to serve the purpose of a bonnet. + +"Dudu!" exclaimed Hugh. + +"Of course," said Jeanne. "You didn't suppose we could have gone without +him, Chéri." + +"Gone where?" said Hugh, quite sitting up in bed by this time, but still +a good deal puzzled. + +"Up into the tapestry castle," said Jeanne, "where we've been wishing so +to go, though we had to wait for the moonlight, you know." + +The word made Hugh glance towards the window, for, for the first time he +began to wonder how it was his room was so bright. Yes, it was streaming +in, in a beautiful flood, and the tapestry on the walls had taken again +the lovely tints which by daylight were no longer visible. + +Hugh sprang out of bed. "Are these for me?" he said, touching the wings +which Jeanne held. + +"Certainly," she replied. "Aren't they pretty? Much nicer than your +wall-climbers, Chéri. I chose them. Turn round and let me put them on." + +She slipped them over his head--they seemed to be fastened to a band, +and in a moment they had fitted themselves perfectly into their place. +They were so light that Hugh was hardly conscious of them, and yet he +could move them about--backwards and forwards, swiftly or slowly, just +as he chose--and as easily as he could move his arms. Hugh was extremely +pleased with them, but he looked at his little night-gown with sudden +dismay. + +"You said you'd make me look pretty too, Jeanne," he observed. "I don't +care for myself--boys never care about being grandly dressed--but I +shall look rather funny beside you, shan't I?" + +"Wait a minute," said Jeanne, "you're not ready yet. I'm going to powder +you. Shut your eyes." + +He did so, and therefore could not see what Jeanne did, but he felt a +sort of soft puff fly all over him, and opening his eyes again at +Jeanne's bidding, saw, to his amazement, that he too was now dressed in +the same pretty shiny stuff as his little cousin. They looked just like +two Christmas angels on the top of a frosted Twelfth Night cake. + +"There now," said Jeanne, "aren't you pleased? You don't know how nice +you look. Now, Dudu we're quite ready. Are we to fly up to the castle?" + +Dudu nodded his wise head. Jeanne took Hugh's hand, and without Hugh's +quite knowing how it was managed, they all flew up the wall together, +and found themselves standing on the castle terrace. There was no light +streaming out from the windows this time, and the peacocks were quite +motionless at their post. + +"Are they asleep?" said Hugh. + +"Perhaps," said Dudu, speaking for the first time. "They lead a +monotonous life, you see. But there is no occasion to disturb them." + +They were standing just in front of the door, by which, the last time, +Hugh had entered the long lighted-up passage. As they stood waiting, the +door slowly opened, but to Hugh's great surprise the inside was +perfectly different. A very large white-painted hall was revealed to +them. The ceiling was arched, and looking up, it seemed so very high, +that it gave one more the feeling of being the sky than the roof of a +house. This great hall was perfectly empty, but yet it did not feel +chilly, and a faint pleasant perfume stole through it, as if not far off +sweet-scented flowers and plants were growing. + +Hugh and Jeanne stood hand-in-hand and looked around them. The door by +which they had entered had closed noiselessly, and when they turned to +see the way by which they had come in, no sign of a door was there. In +the panels of white wood which formed the walls, it was somehow +concealed. + +"How shall we ever get out again?" said Hugh. + +But Jeanne only laughed. + +"We needn't trouble about that," she said. "We got back all right the +last time. What I want to know is what are we to do next? I see no way +out of this hall, and though it's rather nice, it's not very amusing. +Dudu, I wish you would sit still--you keep giving little juggles on my +head that are very uncomfortable, and make me feel as if I had a hat on +that was always tumbling off." + +"I beg your pardon, Mademoiselle Jeanne," replied Dudu with great +dignity. "You really do say such foolish things sometimes that it is +impossible to restrain one's feelings altogether. No way out of this +hall, do you say, when it is the entrance to everywhere?" + +"But how are we to get to everywhere, or anywhere?" asked Jeanne. + +"Really!" said Dudu, as if quite out of patience. "When you are running +up and down the terrace, in your other life, you don't stand still at +one end and say, 'Dudu, how am I to get to the other?' You move your +feet, which were given you for the purpose. And in present +circumstances, instead of your feet, you naturally----" + +"Move our wings," cried Jeanne. "Oh, of course. We're to fly. But you +see, Dudu, we're accustomed to having feet, and to running and walking +with them, but having wings is something new." + +Dudu still looked rather contemptuous, and Hugh gave a little pull to +Jeanne's hand. + +"Let's set off," he said. + +"But where are we to go to?" asked Jeanne. + +Dudu gave a little croak. "Really," he said again. "What am I here for?" + +"Oh, to show us the way, of course," said Jeanne. "You're going to steer +us, I suppose, on the top of my head. Well, we're quite ready." + +Off they set. The flying this time was really quite a pleasure in +itself, and the higher up they rose the easier and swifter it seemed to +become. The hall was lighted from the roof--at least the light seemed to +come down from among the arches so high up that their form was only +vaguely seen. But whether it was daylight or what, the children did not +know, and perhaps it did not occur to them to think. They just flew +softly on, till suddenly Dudu veered to one side and stopped them in +front of a low carved door with a step before it just large enough for +them to stand on. They had not noticed this door before--the hall was so +very large and the door in comparison so small, and the step before it +had looked just like a little jutting-out ledge in the carving, till +they were close to it. + +"Don't turn round," said Dudu, "for fear it should make you giddy. Push +the door and go in at once." + +The children did so. The door yielded, and then immediately--they were +such well-behaved doors in the tapestry palace--closed behind them. And +what the children now saw was a small winding stair, the lowest steps of +which were close to their feet. + +"Here," said Dudu, "I will leave you. You can't go wrong." + +He flew down from Jeanne's head as he spoke. Jeanne gave her head a +little shake; she seemed not altogether sorry to be freed from her +head-dress, for a head-dress with _feelings_ is a somewhat uncomfortable +affair. + +"I don't mind you getting off my head, Dudu," she said. "But you might +take a turn on Chéri's for a change. I think it's rather shabby of you +to leave us already." + +Hugh looked at Jeanne in surprise. He could not understand how it was +that Jeanne ventured to speak so coolly to the raven--she who in their +daylight life was so frightened of him that she would hardly go near him +for fear he should turn her into a mouse, or in some other way bewitch +her! + +"I think it's very good-natured of Monsieur Dudu to have come with us so +far," he said. "We could never have got into the tapestry castle at all +but for him." + +"No," said Dudu, "that you certainly wouldn't." But he didn't seem +offended. "Good-bye," he said, "and if you're in any trouble remember +the former arrangement. Whistle three times." + +"Good-bye," said Hugh and Jeanne. But as they said it, their looks met +each other in astonishment--there was no Dudu there--he had already +disappeared. + +"What a queer way he has of going off all of a sudden," said Jeanne. + +"And what are we to do now?" said Hugh. + +"Go up the stairs, of course, till we find where they lead to," said +Jeanne. + +"It will be rather awkward with our wings," said Hugh. "The stair is so +very narrow and twisting." + +Jeanne made an exclamation. + +"Wings!" she said. "Why, Chéri, your wings are gone!" + +"And so are yours!" said Hugh. + +Both the children stared at each other and turned round to look at their +shoulders, as if they could hardly believe it. + +"It's too bad," said Jeanne. "It's all Dudu." + +"Never mind," said Hugh. "He wouldn't have taken them away if we had +been going to need them again; and really, Jeanne, the more I think of +it the more sure I am we could never have got up that stair with our +wings on." + +"Perhaps not," said Jeanne. "Any way _I_ couldn't have got up it with +Dudu on my head. But let's go on, Chéri. Are you frightened? I'm not a +bit." + +"I'm not, either," said Hugh. "Still, it's a very queer place. I wish +Dudu, or Houpet, or some of them, had come with us!" + +They set off on their climb up the steep spiral staircase. So narrow it +was, that going hand-in-hand was out of the question. + +"It's worse than the staircase down to the frogs' country," said Jeanne. + +Hugh looked at her triumphantly. + +"There now, Jeanne, you _do_ remember," he said. "I believe it was just +pretence your saying you thought I had dreamt it all." + +"No," said Jeanne, "it wasn't. You don't understand, Chéri. I'm +moonlight Jeanne, now--when we were having the dolls' feast I was +daylight Jeanne. And you know it's never moonlight in the day-time." + +"Well, certainly, I _don't_ understand," said Hugh. "And one thing +particularly--how is it that in the moon-time you remember about the +day-time, if in the day you forget all about the other." + +"I don't exactly forget," said Jeanne, "but it spoils things to mix them +together. And lots of things would be _quite_ spoilt if you took them +into the regular daylight. I fancy, too, one can see farther in the +moonlight--one can see more ways." + +She was standing at the foot of the stair, a step or two higher than +Hugh, and the soft light, which still, in some mysterious way, seemed to +come down from above--though, looking up the spiral stair, its top +seemed lost in gloom--fell on her pretty little face. Her hair had +fallen back over her shoulders and lay dark on her pure white shiny +dress; there was a look in her eyes which Hugh had never noticed before, +as if she could see a long way off. Hugh looked at her earnestly. + +"Jeanne," he said, "you're a perfect puzzle. I do wonder whether you're +half a fairy, or an angel, or a dream. I do hope you're not a dream when +you're in the moonlight. But, oh dear, I cannot understand." + +"Do leave off trying to understand, Chéri," said Jeanne, "and let us +amuse ourselves. I always love _you_, Chéri, whatever I am, don't I?" + +She turned towards him brightly, with such a merry smile on her face +that Hugh could not help smiling too. + +"Do let us go on quickly," she said; "I do so want to see where this +stair goes to." + +"Let me go first. I'm a boy, you know, and it's right I should go first +in case of meeting anything that might frighten you," said Hugh. + +So he stepped up in front of Jeanne, and they slowly made their way. + +It was impossible to go fast. Never was there such a twisty little +stair. Here and there, too, it got darker, so that they could only just +find their way, step by step. And it really seemed as if they had +climbed a very long way, when from above came faintly and softly the +sound of a plaintive "mew." "Mew, mew," it said again, whoever the "it" +was, and then stopped. + +The children looked at each other. + +"Cats!" they said at the same instant. + +"It's just as well," said Hugh, "that none of the animals did come with +us, as so many of them are birds." + +Another step or two and the mystery was explained. They had reached the +top of the turret stair; it led them into a little hall, all, like the +great hall below, painted white. It looked perfectly pure and clean, as +if it had only been painted the day before, and yet there was a +curiously _old_ look about it too, and a faint scent of dried rose +leaves seemed to be in the air. + +There was a door in this little hall, exactly opposite the top of the +stair, and at each side of the door was an arm-chair, also all white, +and with a white satin cushion instead of a seat. And on each of these +chairs sat a most beautiful white cat. The only colour in the hall was +the flash of their green eyes, as they turned them full on the two +children. + +Jeanne crept a little closer to Hugh. But there was no reason for fear. +The cats were most amiably disposed. + +"Mew!" said the one on the right-hand chair. + +"Mew!" said the one on the left-hand chair. + +Then they looked at each other for a moment, and at last, seeming to +have made up their minds, each held out his right paw. Something in the +way they did it reminded Hugh and Jeanne of Dudu when he stood on one +leg, and stuck out the other like a walking-stick. + +"Mew!" they said again, both together this time. And then in a clear, +though rather mewey voice, the right-hand cat spoke to the children. + +"Madame is expecting you," he said. + +The children did not know what else to say, so they said, "Thank you." + +"She has been waiting a good while," said the left-hand cat. + +"I'm very sorry to have kept her waiting," said Hugh, feeling Jeanne +nudge him. "I hope she has not been waiting very long?" + +"Oh no," said the right-hand cat, "not long; not above three hundred +years." + +Jeanne gave a start of astonishment. + +"Three hundred----" "years," she was going to say, but the left-hand cat +interrupted her. + +"You are not to be surprised," he said, very hastily, and Jeanne could +not quite make out if he was frightened or angry, or a little of both. +"You must not _think_ of being surprised. Nobody is ever surprised +here." + +"No one is ever surprised here," repeated the right-hand cat. "This is +the Castle of Whiteness, you know. You are sure you have nothing +coloured about you?" he added, anxiously. + +Instinctively both the children put their hands up to their heads. + +"Only our hair," they said. + +"Mine's light-brown, you see," said Hugh. + +"And mine's bl----" Jeanne was saying, but the cats, both speaking +together this time, stopped her with a squeal of horror. + +"Oh, oh, oh!" they said. "Where are your manners? You must never mention +such a word. Your hair, Mademoiselle, is _shadowy_. That is the proper +expression." + +Jeanne was annoyed, and did not speak. Hugh felt himself bound to defend +her from the charge of bad manners. + +"You needn't be so sharp," he said to the cats; "your eyes are as green +as they can be." + +"Green doesn't count," said the right-hand cat, coolly. + +"And how were we to know that?" said Hugh. + +"I don't know," said the left-hand cat. + +"Well, but can't you be sensible?" said Hugh, who didn't feel inclined +to give in to two cats. + +"Perhaps we might be if we tried," said the right-hand cat. "But----" + +A sudden sound interrupted him. It was as if some one had moved a piece +of furniture with squeaking castors. + +"Madame's turning her wheel," said the left-hand cat. "Now's the time." + +Both cats got down from their chairs, and each, standing on their hind +legs, proceeded to open his side of the door between the chairs--or +"doors" I should almost say, for it was a double-hinged one, opening in +the middle, and the funny thing about it was that one side opened +outwards, and the other inwards, so that at first, unless you were +standing just exactly in the middle, you did not see very clearly into +the inside. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +"THE BROWN BULL OF NORROWA." + + "Delicate, strong, and white, + Hurrah for the magic thread! + The warp and the woof come right." + CHILD WORLD. + + +They were not to be surprised! Both the children remembered that, and +yet it was a little difficult to avoid being so. + +At first all they saw was just another white room, a small one, and with +a curious pointed window in one corner. But when the doors were fully +opened there was more to be seen. In the first place, at the opposite +corner, was a second window exactly like the other, and in front of this +window a spinning-wheel was placed, and before this spinning-wheel sat, +on a white chair, a white-haired lady. + +She was spinning busily. She did not look up as the children came in. +She seemed quite absorbed in her work. So the children stood and gazed +at her, and the cats stood quietly in front, the right-hand one before +Hugh, the left-hand one before Jeanne, not seeming, of course, the least +surprised. Whether I should call the white-haired lady an "old" lady or +not, I really do not know. No doubt she was old, as we count old, but +yet, except for her hair, she did not look so. She was very small, and +she was dressed entirely in white, and her hands were the prettiest +little things you ever saw. But as she did not look up, Hugh and Jeanne +could not at first judge of her face. They stood staring at her for some +minutes without speaking. At last, as they were not allowed to be +surprised, and indeed felt afraid of being reproached with bad manners +by the cats if they made any remarks at all, it began, especially for +Jeanne, to grow rather stupid. + +She gave Hugh a little tug. + +"Won't you speak to her?" she whispered, very, _very_ softly. + +Instantly both cats lifted their right paws. + +"You see," replied Hugh, looking at Jeanne reproachfully, "they're +getting angry." + +On this the cats wheeled right round and looked at the children. + +"I don't care," said Jeanne, working herself up. "I don't care. It's +not our fault. They said she was waiting for us, and they made us come +in." + +"'_She_ is the cat,' so I've been told," said a soft voice suddenly. +"And 'don't care;' something was once spun about 'don't care,' I think." + +Immediately the two cats threw themselves on the ground, apparently in +an agony of grief. + +"_She_ the cat," they cried. "Oh, what presumption! And who said 'don't +care'? Oh dear! oh dear! who would have thought of such a thing?" + +The lady lifted her head, and looked at the cats and the children. There +was a curious expression on her face, as if she had just awakened. Her +eyes were very soft blue, softer and dreamier than Hugh's, and her +mouth, even while it smiled, had a rather sad look. But the look of her +whole face was very--I can't find a very good word for it. It seemed to +ask you questions, and yet to know more about you than you did yourself. +It was impossible not to keep looking at her once you had begun. + +"Hush, cats," were the next words she said. "Don't be silly; it's nearly +as bad as being surprised." + +Immediately the cats sat up in their places again, as quiet and +dignified as if they had not been at all put about, and Jeanne glanced +at Hugh as much as to say, "Aren't you glad she has put them down a +little?" + +Then the lady looked over the cats to the children. + +"It is quite ready," she said; "the threads are all straight." + +What could they say? They had not the least idea what she meant, and +they were afraid of asking. Evidently the white lady was of the same +opinion as the cats as to the rudeness of being surprised; very probably +asking questions would be considered still ruder. + +Jeanne was the first to pick up courage. + +"Madame," she said, "I don't mean to be rude, but I _am_ so thirsty. +It's with flying, I think, for we're not accustomed to it." + +"Why did you not say so before?" said the lady. "I can give you anything +you want. It has all been ready a long time. Will you have snow water or +milk?" + +"Milk, please," said Jeanne. + +The lady looked at the cats. + +"Fetch it," she said quietly. The cats trotted off, they opened the door +as before, but left it open this time, and in another moment they +returned, carrying between them a white china tray, on which were two +cups of beautiful rich-looking milk. They handed them to the children, +who each took one and drank it with great satisfaction. Then the cats +took away the cups and tray, and returned and sat down as before. + +The lady smiled at the children. + +"Now," she said, "are you ready?" + +She had been so kind about the milk that Hugh this time took courage. + +"We are _very_ sorry," he said, "but we really don't understand what it +is you would like us to do." + +"Do?" said the lady. "Why, you have nothing to do but to listen. Isn't +that what you came for? To hear some of the stories I spin?" + +The children opened their eyes--with pleasure it is to be supposed +rather than surprise--for the white lady did not seem at all annoyed. + +"Oh!" said they, both at once. "Is _that_ what you're spinning? +Stories!" + +"Of course," said the lady. "Where did you think they all come +from?--all the stories down there?" She pointed downwards in the +direction of the stair and the great hall. "Why, here I have been +for--no, it would frighten you to tell you how long, by your counting, I +have been up here at my spinning. I spin the round of the clock at this +window, then I turn my wheel--to get the light, you see--and spin the +round again at the other. If you saw the tangle it comes to me in! And +the threads I send down! It is not _often_ such little people as you +come up here themselves, but it does happen sometimes. And there is +plenty ready for you--all ready for the wheel." + +"How wonderful!" said Hugh. "And oh!" he exclaimed, "I suppose sometimes +the threads get twisted again when you have to send them down such a +long way, and that's how stories get muddled sometimes." + +"Just so," said the white lady. "My story threads need gentle handling, +and sometimes people seize them roughly and tear and soil them, and then +of course they are no longer pretty. But listen now. What will you have? +The first in the wheel is a very, very old fairy story. I span it for +your great-great-grandmothers; shall I spin it again for you?" + +"Oh, please," said both children at once. + +"Then sit down on the floor and lean your heads against my knees," said +the lady. "Shut your eyes and listen. That is all you have to do. Never +mind the cats, they will be quite quiet." + +[Illustration: STORY SPINNING.--p. 141.] + +Hugh and Jeanne did as she told them. They leaned their heads, the +smooth black one of the little girl, the fair-haired curly one of the +boy, on the lady's white robe. You can hardly imagine how soft and +pleasant it was to the touch. A half-sleepy feeling came over them; they +shut their eyes and did not feel inclined to open them again. But they +did not really go to sleep; the fairy lady began to work the wheel, and +through the soft whirr came the sound of a voice--whether it was the +voice of the lady or of the wheel they could not tell. And this was the +old, old story the wheel spun for them. + +"Listen, children," it began. + +"We are listening," said Jeanne, rather testily. "You needn't say that +again." + +"Hush, Jeanne," said Hugh; "you'll stop the story if you're not quiet." + +"Listen, children," said the voice again. And Jeanne was quite quiet. + +"Once on a time--a very long time ago--in a beautiful castle there lived +a beautiful Princess. She was young and sweet and very fair to see. And +she was the only child of her parents, who thought nothing too rare or +too good for her. At her birth all the fairies had given her valuable +gifts--no evil wishes had been breathed over her cradle. Only the fairy +who had endowed her with good sense and ready wit had dropped certain +words, which had left some anxiety in the minds of her parents. + +"'She will need my gifts,' the fairy had said. 'If she uses them well, +they and these golden balls will stand her in good need. + +"And as she kissed the baby she left by her pillow three lovely golden +balls, at which, as soon as the little creature saw them, she smiled +with pleasure, and held out her tiny hands to catch them. + +"They were of course balls of fairy make--they were small enough for the +little Princess at first to hold in her baby hands, but as she grew they +grew, till, when she had reached her sixteenth year, they were the size +of an orange. They were golden, but yet neither hard nor heavy, and +nothing had power to dint or stain them. And all through her babyhood +and childhood, and on into her girlhood, they were the Princess's +favourite toy. They were never away from her, and by the time she had +grown to be a tall and beautiful girl, with constant practice she had +learnt to catch them as cleverly as an Indian juggler. She could whiz +them all three in the air at a time, and never let one drop to the +ground. And all the people about grew used to seeing their pretty +Princess, as she wandered through the gardens and woods near the castle, +throwing her balls in the air as she walked, and catching them again +without the slightest effort. + +"And remembering the words of the fairy who had given them, naturally +her father and mother were pleased to see her love for the magic gift, +and every one about the palace was forbidden to laugh at her, or to say +that it was babyish for a tall Princess to play so much with a toy that +had amused her as an infant. + +"She was not a silly Princess at all. She was clever at learning, and +liked it, and she was sensible and quick-witted and very brave. So no +one was inclined to laugh at her pretty play, even if they had not been +forbidden to do so. And she was so kind-hearted and merry, that if ever +in her rambles she met any little children who stared at her balls with +wondering eyes, she would make her ladies stop, while she threw the +balls up in the air, higher and yet higher, ever catching them again as +they flew back, and laughed with pleasure to see the little creatures' +delight in her skill. + +"She was such a happy Princess that the bright balls seemed like +herself--ready to catch every ray of sunshine and make it prisoner. And +till she had reached her sixteenth year no cloud had come over her +brightness. About this time she noticed that the king, her father, began +to look anxious and grave, and messengers often came in haste to see him +from far-off parts of his kingdom. And once or twice she overheard words +dropped which she could not understand, except that it was evident some +misfortune was at hand. But in their desire to save their daughter all +sorrow, the king and queen had given orders that the trouble which had +come to the country was not to be told her; so the Princess could find +out nothing even by questioning her ladies or her old nurse, who +hitherto had never refused to tell her anything she wanted to know. + +"One day when she was walking about the gardens, playing as usual with +her golden balls, she came upon a young girl half hidden among the +shrubs, crying bitterly. The Princess stopped at once to ask her what +was the matter, but the girl only shook her head and went on weeping, +refusing to answer. + +"'I dare not tell you, Princess,' she said. 'I dare not. You are good +and kind, and I do not blame you for my misfortunes. If you knew all, +you would pity me.' + +"And that was all she would say. + +"She was a pretty girl, about the same age and height as the Princess, +and the Princess, after speaking to her, remembered that she had +sometimes seen her before. + +"'You are the daughter of the gardener, are you not?' she inquired. + +"'Yes,' said the girl. 'My father is the king's gardener. But I have +been away with my grandmother. They only sent for me yesterday to come +home--and--and--oh, I was to have been married next week to a young +shepherd, who has loved me since my childhood!' + +"And with this the girl burst into fresh weeping, but not another word +would she say. + +"Just then the Princess's governess, who had been a little behind--for +sometimes in playing with her balls the Princess ran on faster--came up +to where the two young girls were talking together. When the governess +saw who the Princess's companion was she seemed uneasy. + +"'What has she been saying to you, Princess?' she asked eagerly. 'It is +the gardener's daughter, I see.' + +"'Yes,' said the Princess. 'She is the gardener's daughter, and she is +in some great trouble. That is all I know, for she will tell me nothing +but that she was to have been married next week, and then she weeps. I +wish I knew what her sorrow is, for, perhaps, I could be of use to her. +I would give her all my money if it would do her any good,' and the +Princess looked ready to cry herself. But the girl only shook her head. +'No Princess,' she said; 'it would do me no good. It is not your fault; +but oh, it is very hard on me!' + +"The governess seemed very frightened and spoke sharply to the girl, +reproving her for annoying the Princess with her distress. The Princess +was surprised, for all her ladies hitherto had, by the king and queen's +desire, encouraged her to be kind and sympathising to those in trouble, +and to do all she could to console them. But as she had also been taught +to be very obedient, she made no remonstrance when her governess desired +her to leave the girl and return to the castle. But all that day the +Princess remained silent and depressed. It was the first time a shadow +had come near her happiness. + +"The next morning when she awoke the sun was shining brilliantly. It was +a most lovely spring day. The Princess's happy spirits seemed all to +have returned. She said to herself that she would confide to the queen +her mother her concern about the poor girl that she had seen, and no +doubt the queen would devise some way of helping her. And the thought +made her feel so light-hearted that she told her attendants to fetch her +a beautiful white dress trimmed with silver, which had been made for her +but the day before. To her surprise the maidens looked at each other in +confusion. At last one replied that the queen had not been pleased with +the dress and had sent it away, but that a still more beautiful one +trimmed with gold should be ready by that evening. The Princess was +perplexed; she was not so silly as to care about the dress, but it +seemed to her very strange that her mother should not admire what she +had thought so lovely a robe. But still more surprised was she at a +message which was brought to her, as soon as she was dressed, from the +king and queen, desiring her to remain in her own rooms the whole of +that day without going out, for a reason that should afterwards be +explained to her. She made no objection, as she was submissive and +obedient to her parents' wishes, but she found it strange and sad to +spend that beautiful spring day shut up in her rooms, more especially as +in her favourite boudoir, a turret chamber which overlooked the castle +courtyard, she found the curtains drawn closely, as if it were night, +and was told by her governess that this too was by the king's orders; +the Princess was requested not to look out of the windows. She grew at +this a little impatient. + +"'I am willing to obey my parents,' she said, 'but I would fain they +trusted me, for I am no longer a child. Some misfortune is threatening +us, I feel, and it is concealed from me, as if I could be happy or at +rest if sorrow is hanging over my dear parents or the nation.' + +"But no explanation was given to her, and all that day she sat in her +darkened chamber playing sadly with her golden balls and thinking deeply +to herself about the mystery. And towards the middle of the day sounds +of excitement reached her from the courtyard beneath. There seemed a +running to and fro, a noise of horses and of heavy feet, and now and +then faint sounds of weeping. + +"'Goes the king a hunting to-day?' she asked her ladies. 'And whose +weeping is it I hear?' + +"But the ladies only shook their heads without speaking. + +"By the evening all seemed quiet. The Princess was desired to join her +parents as usual, and the white and golden robe was brought to her to +wear. She put it on with pleasure, and said to herself there could after +all be no terrible misfortune at hand, for if so there would not be the +signs of rejoicing she observed as she passed through the palace. And +never had her parents been more tender and loving. They seemed to look +at her as if never before they had known how they treasured her, and the +Princess was so touched by these proofs of their affection that she +could not make up her mind to trouble them by asking questions which +they might not wish to answer. + +"The next day everything went on as usual in the palace, and it seemed +to the Princess that there was a general feeling as if some great danger +was safely passed. But this happiness did not last long; about three +days later, again a messenger, dusty and wearied with riding fast and +hard, made his appearance at the castle; and faces grew gloomy, and the +king and queen were evidently overwhelmed with grief. Yet nothing was +told to the Princess. + +"She wandered out about the gardens and castle grounds, playing as usual +with her balls, but wondering sadly what meant this mysterious trouble. +And as she was passing the poultry-yard, she heard a sound which seemed +to suit her thoughts--some one was crying sadly. The Princess turned to +see who it was. This time too it was a young girl about her own age, a +girl whom she knew very well by sight, for she was the daughter of the +queen's henwife, and the Princess had often seen her driving the flocks +of turkeys or geese to their fields, or feeding the pretty cocks and +hens which the queen took great pride in. + +"'What is the matter, Bruna?' said the Princess, leaning over the gate. +'Have the rats eaten any of the little chickens, or has your mother been +scolding you for breaking some eggs?' + +"'Neither, Princess,' said the girl among her sobs. 'The chickens are +never eaten, and my mother seldom scolds me. My trouble is far worse +than that, but I dare not tell it to you--to you of all people in the +world.' + +"And the Princess's governess, who just then came up, looked again very +frightened and uneasy. + +"'Princess, Princess,' she said, 'what a habit you are getting of +talking to all these foolish girls. Come back to the palace at once with +me.' + +"'I have often talked to Bruna before,' said the Princess gently, 'and +I never was blamed for doing so. She is a pretty girl, and I have known +her all my life. Some one said she was betrothed to one of my father's +huntsmen, and I would like to ask if it is true. Perhaps they are too +poor to marry, and it may be for that she is weeping.' + +"Bruna heard what the Princess said, and wept still more violently. 'Ah, +yes, it is true!' she said, 'but never, never shall I now be married to +him.' + +"But the Princess's governess would not let her wait to ask more. She +hurried her back to the castle, and the Princess--more sure than ever +that some mysterious trouble was in question--could get no explanation. + +"She did not see the king and queen that night, and the next morning a +strange thing happened--her white and golden robe was missing. And all +that her attendants could tell her was that it had been taken away by +the queen's orders. + +"'Then,' said the Princess, 'there is some sad trouble afloat which is +hidden from me.' + +"And when she went to her turret room, and found, as before, that the +windows were all closed, so that she could not see out, she sat down and +cried with distress and anxiety. + +"And, again, about mid-day, the same confused noises were to be heard. A +sound of horses and people moving about in the courtyard, a tramping of +heavy feet, and through all a faint and smothered weeping. The Princess +could bear her anxiety no longer. She drew back the curtains, and +unfastened the shutters, and leaned out. From her window she could +clearly see the courtyard. It was, as she suspected, filled with people; +rows of soldiers on horse-back lined the sides, and in front, on the +steps, the king and queen were standing looking at a strange object. It +was an enormous bull: never had the Princess seen such a bull. He was +dark brown in colour, and pawed the ground in front of him impatiently, +and on his back was seated a young girl whom the Princess gazed at with +astonishment. She really thought for a moment it was herself, and that +she was dreaming! For the girl was dressed in the Princess's own white +and golden robe, and her face could not be seen, for it was covered with +a thick veil, and numbers of women and servants standing about were +weeping bitterly. And so, evidently, was the girl herself. Then the +great bull gave another impatient toss, the girl seized his horns to +keep herself from falling, and off he set, with a terrible rush: and a +great shout, half of fear, half of rejoicing, as seeing him go, rose +from the people about. + +"Just at this moment the Princess heard some one approaching her room. +She hastily drew the curtains, and sat down playing with her balls, as +if she had seen nothing. + +"She said not a word to any one, but she had her own thoughts, and that +evening she was sent for to her father and mother, who, as usual, +received her with caresses and every sign of the tenderest affection. +And several days passed quietly, but still the Princess had her own +thoughts. + +"And one evening when she was sitting with her mother, suddenly the king +entered the room in the greatest trouble, and not seeing the Princess, +for it was dusk, he exclaimed, + +"'It has failed again. The monster is not to be deceived. He vows he +will not cease his ravages till he gets the real Princess, our beloved +daughter. He has appeared again, and is more infuriated than ever, +tearing up trees by the roots, destroying the people's houses, tramping +over their fields, and half killing all the country with terror. What is +to be done? The people say they can endure it no longer. The girl Bruna +was found bruised and bleeding by the wayside a long way from this, and +she gives the same account as the gardener's daughter of the monster's +rage at finding he had been deceived.' + +"The queen had tried to prevent the king's relating all this, but he was +too excited to notice her hints, and, indeed, after the first few words, +the Princess had heard enough. She started from her seat and came +forward. And when he saw her, the king threw up his hands in despair. +But the Princess said quietly, 'Father, you must tell me the whole.' + +"So they had to tell her the whole. For many weeks past the terrible +monster she had seen in the courtyard had been filling the country with +fear. He had suddenly appeared at a distant part of the kingdom--having +come, it was said, from a country over the sea named 'Norrowa'--and had +laid it waste, for though he did not actually kill or devour, he tore +down trees, trampled crops, and terrified every one that came in his +way, as the king had said. And when begged to have mercy and to return +to his own country, he roared out with a voice between the voice of a +man and the bellow of a bull, that he would leave them in peace once the +king gave him his daughter in marriage. + +"Messenger after messenger had been sent to the palace to entreat for +assistance. Soldiers in numbers had been despatched to seize the monster +and imprison him. But it was no use--he was not to be caught. Nothing +would content him but the promise of the Princess; and as it was of +course plain that he was not a common bull, but a creature endowed with +magical power, the country-people's fear of him was unbounded. They +threatened to rise in revolution unless some means were found of ridding +them of their terrible visitor. Then the king called together the wisest +of his counsellors, and finding force of no avail, they determined to +try cunning. The giving the Princess was not to be thought of, but a +pretty girl about her age and size--the gardener's daughter, the same +whom the Princess had found weeping over her fate--was chosen, dressed +in one of her royal mistress's beautiful robes, and a message sent to +the bull that his request was to be granted. He came. All round, the +castle was protected by soldiers, though they well knew their power +against him was nothing. The king and queen, feigning to weep over the +loss of their daughter, themselves presented to him the false Princess. + +"She was mounted on his back, and off he rushed with her--up hill, down +dale, by rocky ground and smooth, across rivers and through forests he +rushed, said the girl, faster and faster, till at last, as evening fell, +he came to a stand and spoke to her for the first time. + +"'What time of day must it be by this, king's daughter?' he said. + +"The girl considered for a moment. Then, forgetting her pretended +position, she replied thoughtlessly, + +"'It must be getting late. About the time that my father gathers the +flowers to adorn the king's and queen's supper table.' + +"'Throw thee once, throw thee twice, throw thee _thrice_,' roared the +bull, each time shaking the girl roughly, and the last time flinging her +off his back. 'Shame on thee, gardener's daughter, and thou wouldst call +thyself a true Princess.' + +"And with that he left her bruised and frightened out of her wits on the +ground, and rushed off by himself whither she knew not. And it was not +till two days later that the unfortunate gardener's daughter found her +way home, glad enough, one may be sure, to be again there in safety. + +"In the meantime the ravages and terrors caused by the terrible bull had +begun again, and, as before, messengers came incessantly to the king +entreating him to find some means of protecting his unfortunate +subjects. And the king and queen were half beside themselves with +anxiety. Only one thing they were determined on--nothing must be told to +the Princess. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE BROWN BULL--(_Continued_). + + "And she + Told them an old-world history." + MATTHEW ARNOLD. + + +"'She is so courageous,' said the queen, 'there is no knowing what she +might not do.' + +"'She is so kind-hearted,' said the king; 'she might imagine it her duty +to sacrifice herself to our people.' + +"And the poor king and queen wept copiously at the mere thought, and all +the ladies and attendants of the Princess were ordered on no account to +let a breath of the terrible story be heard by her. Yet, after all, it +so happened that her suspicions were aroused afresh by the sight this +time of the weeping Bruna. For nothing else could be suggested than +again to try to deceive the monster; and Bruna, a still prettier girl +than the gardener's daughter, was this time chosen to represent the +Princess. But all happened as before. The brown bull rushed off with +his prize, the whole day the unfortunate Bruna was shaken on his back, +and again, as night began to fall, he stopped at the same spot. + +"'What time must it be by this, king's daughter?' he asked. + +"Foolish Bruna, thankful to have a moment's rest, answered hastily, + +"'O brown bull, it must be getting late, and I am sorely tired. It must +be about the time that my mother takes all the eggs that have been laid +in the day to the king's kitchen.' + +"'Throw thee once, throw thee twice, throw thee _thrice_,' roared the +bull, each time shaking the henwife's daughter roughly, at the end +flinging her to the ground. 'Shame on thee, thou henwife's daughter, to +call thyself a true Princess.' + +"And with that off he rushed, furious, and from that day the ravages and +the terrors began again, and Bruna found her way home, bruised and +weeping, to tell her story. + +"This was the tale now related to the Princess, and as she listened a +strange look of determination and courage came over her face. + +"'There is but one thing to be done,' she said. 'It is childish to +attempt to deceive a creature who is evidently not what he seems. Let me +go myself, my parents. Trust me to do my best. And, at worst, if I +perish, it will be in a good cause. Better it should be so than that our +people should be driven from their homes, the whole country devastated, +and all its happiness destroyed.' + +"The king and queen had no answer to give but their tears. But the +Princess remained firm, and they found themselves obliged to do as she +directed. A messenger was sent to the monster to inform him, for the +third time, that his terms were to be agreed to, and the rest of the day +was spent in the palace in weeping and lamentation. + +"Only, strange to say, the Princess shed no tears. She seemed as +cheerful as usual; she played with her golden balls, and endeavoured to +comfort her sorrowful parents, and was so brave and hopeful that in +spite of themselves the poor king and queen could not help feeling a +little comforted. + +"'It is a good sign that she has never left off playing with her balls,' +they said to each other. 'Who knows but what the fairy's prediction may +be true, and that in some way the balls may be the means of saving +her?' + +"'They and my wits,' said the Princess, laughing, for she had often been +told of the fairy's saying. + +"And the king and queen and all the ladies and gentlemen of the court +looked at her in astonishment, admiring her courage, but marvelling at +her having the spirit to laugh at such a moment. + +"The next morning, at the usual time, the terrible visitor made his +appearance. He came slowly up to the castle courtyard and stood at the +great entrance, tossing his enormous head with impatience. But he was +not kept waiting long; the doors were flung open, and at the top of the +flight of steps leading down from them appeared the young Princess, pale +but resolute, her fair hair floating over her shoulders, her golden +balls flashing as she slowly walked down the steps, tossing them as she +went. And, unlike the false princesses, she was dressed entirely in +black, without a single jewel or ornament of any kind--nothing but her +balls, and her hair caught the sunlight as she passed. There were no +soldiers this time, no crowd of weeping friends; the grief of the king +and queen was now too real to be shown, and the Princess had asked that +there should be no one to see her go. + +"The brown bull stood still as a lamb for her to mount, and then at a +gentle pace he set off. The Princess had no need to catch hold of his +horns to keep herself from falling, his step was so even. And all along +as she rode she threw her balls up softly in the air, catching them as +they fell. But the brown bull spoke not a word. + +"On and on they went; the sun rose high in the heavens and poured down +on the girl's uncovered head the full heat of his rays. But just as she +began to feel it painfully, they entered a forest, where the green shade +of the summer trees made a pleasant shelter. And when they came out from +the forest again on the other side the sun was declining; before long he +had sunk below the horizon, evening was at hand. And as before, the +brown bull stopped. + +"'King's daughter,' he said, in a voice so gentle, though deep, that the +Princess started with surprise, 'what hour must it be by this? Tell me, +king's daughter, I pray.' + +"'Brown bull,' replied the Princess, without a moment's hesitation, for +those who have nothing to conceal are fearless and ready; 'brown bull, +it is getting late. By now must the king and queen, my father and +mother, be sitting down to their solitary supper and thinking of me, for +at this hour I was used to hasten to them, throwing my pretty balls +as I went.' + +[Illustration: THE BROWN BULL OF NORROWA.--p. 162.] + +"'I thank thee, thou true Princess,' said the bull in the same tone, and +he hastened on. + +"And ere long the night fell, and the poor Princess was so tired and +sleepy, that without knowing it her pretty head drooped lower and lower, +and at last she lay fast asleep on the bull's broad back, her fair head +resting between his horns. + +"She slept so soundly that she did not notice when he stopped, only she +had a strange dream. Some one lifted her gently and laid her on a couch, +it seemed to her, and a kind voice whispered in her ear, 'Good-night, my +fair Princess.' + +"But it must have been a dream, she said to herself. How could a bull +have arms to lift her, or how could a rough, ferocious creature like him +be so gentle and kind? It must have been a dream, for when she awoke she +saw the great monster standing beside her on his four legs as usual; yet +it was strange, for she found herself lying on a delicious mossy couch, +and the softest and driest moss had been gathered together for a pillow, +and beside her a cup of fresh milk and a cake of oaten bread were lying +for her breakfast. How had all this been done for her? she asked +herself, as she ate with a very good appetite, for she had had no food +since the morning before. She began to think the bull not so bad after +all, and to wonder if it was to Fairyland he was going to take her. And +as she thought this to herself she threw her balls, which were lying +beside her, up into the air, and the morning sun caught their sparkle +and seemed to send it dancing back again on to her bright fair hair. And +a sudden fancy seized her. + +"'Catch,' she said to the bull, throwing a ball at him as she spoke. He +tossed his head, and to her surprise the ball was caught on one of his +horns. + +"'Catch,' she said again, and he had caught the second. + +"'Catch,' a third time. The great creature caught it in his mouth like a +dog, and brought it gently to the Princess and laid it at her feet. She +took it and half timidly stroked his head; and no one who had seen the +soft pathetic look which crept into his large round eyes would have +believed in his being the cruel monster he had been described. He did +not speak, he seemed without the power to do so now, but by signs he +made the Princess understand it was time to continue their journey, and +she mounted his back as before. + +"All that day the bull travelled on, but the Princess was now getting +accustomed to her strange steed, and felt less tired and frightened. And +when the sun grew hot the bull was sure to find a sheltered path, where +the trees shaded her from the glare, and when the road was rough he went +the more slowly, that she should not be shaken. + +"Late in the evening the Princess heard a far-off rushing sound, that as +they went seemed to grow louder and louder. + +"'What is that, brown bull?' she asked, feeling somehow a little +frightened. + +"The brown bull raised his head and looked round him. Yes, the sun had +sunk, he might speak. And in the same deep voice he answered, + +"'The sea, king's daughter, the sea that is to bear you and me to my +country of Norrowa.' + +"'And how shall we cross it, brown bull?' she said. + +"'Have no fear,' he replied. 'Lay down your head and shut your eyes, and +no harm will come near you.' + +"The Princess did as he bade her. She heard the roar of the waves come +nearer and nearer, a cold wind blew over her face, and she felt at last +that her huge steed had plunged into the water, for it splashed on to +her hand, which was hanging downwards, and then she heard him, with a +gasp and a snort, strike out boldly. The Princess drew herself up on the +bull's back as closely as she could; she had no wish to get wet. But she +was not frightened. She grew accustomed to the motion of her great +steed's swimming, and as she kept her eyes fast shut she did not see how +near she was to the water, and felt as if in a peaceful dream. And after +a while the feeling became reality, for she fell fast asleep and dreamt +she was in her little turret chamber, listening to the wind softly +blowing through the casement. + +"When she awoke she was alone. She was lying on a couch, but this time +not of moss, but of the richest and softest silk. She rubbed her eyes +and looked about her. Was she in her father's castle? Had her youth and +her courage softened the monster's heart, and made him carry her back +again to her happy home? For a moment she thought it must be so; but no, +when she looked again, none of the rooms in her old home were so +beautiful as this one where she found herself. Not even her mother's +great saloon, which she had always thought so magnificent, was to be +compared with it. It was not very large, but it was more like Fairyland +than anything she had ever dreamt of. The loveliest flowers were +trained against the walls, here and there fountains of delicately +scented waters refreshed the air, the floor was covered with carpets of +the richest hues and the softest texture. There were birds singing among +the flowers, gold and silver fish sporting in the marble basins--it was +a perfect fairy's bower. The Princess sat up and looked about her. There +was no one to be seen, not a sound but the dropping of the fountains and +the soft chatter of the birds. The Princess admired it all exceedingly, +but she was very hungry, and as her long sleep had completely refreshed +her, she felt no longer inclined to lie still. So she crossed the room +to where a curtain was hanging, which she thought perhaps concealed a +door. She drew aside the curtain, the door behind was already open; she +found herself in a second room, almost as beautiful as the first, and +lighted in the same way with coloured lamps hanging from the roof. And +to her great delight, before her was a table already laid for supper +with every kind of delicious fruit and bread, and cakes, and everything +that a young Princess could desire. She was so hungry that she at once +sat down to the table, and then she perceived to her surprise that it +was laid for two! + +"'Can the bull be coming to sup with me?' she said to herself, half +laughing at the idea. And she added aloud, 'Come if you like, Mr. Bull; +I find your house very pretty, and I thank you for your hospitality.' + +"And as she said the words, a voice which somehow seemed familiar to +her, replied, + +"'I thank you, gracious Princess, for your permission. Without it I +could not have entered your presence as I do now,' and looking up, she +saw, coming in by another door that she had not noticed, a most +unexpected visitor. + +"It was not the bull, it was a young Prince such as our pretty Princess, +who was not without her daydreams, like other young girls, had sometimes +pictured to herself as coming on a splendid horse, with his followers +around him in gallant attire, to ask her of her parents. He was well +made and manly, with a bright and pleasant expression, and dressed, of +course, to perfection. The Princess glanced at her plain black robe in +vexation, and her fair face flushed. + +"'I knew not,' she began. 'I thought I should see no one but the brown +bull.' + +"The Prince laughed merrily. He was in good spirits naturally, as any +one would be who, after being forced for ten years to wear a frightful +and hideous disguise, and to behave like a rough and surly bull, +instead of like a well-born gentleman, should suddenly find himself in +his own pleasant person again. + +"'I _was_ the bull,' he said, 'but you, Princess, have transformed me. +How can I ever show you my gratitude?' + +"'You owe me none,' said the Princess gently. 'What I did was to save my +parents and their people. If it has served you in good stead, that for +me is reward enough. But,' she added, 'I wish I had brought some of my +pretty dresses with me. It must look so rude to you to have this ugly +black one.' + +"The Prince begged her not to trouble herself about such a trifle--to +him she was beautiful as the day in whatever attire she happened to be. +And then they ate their supper with a good appetite, though it seemed +strange to the Princess to be quite without attendants, sitting alone at +table with a young man whom she had never seen before. + +"And after supper a new idea struck her. + +"'Catch,' she said, drawing the first ball out of the little pocket in +the front of her dress, where she always carried her balls, and flinging +it across the table to the Prince with her usual skill, not breaking a +glass or bending a leaf of the flowers with which the dishes were +adorned. + +"In an instant the Prince had caught it, and as she sent off the second, +crying again 'Catch,' he returned her the first, leaving his hand free +for the third. + +"'Yes,' said the Princess, after continuing this game for a little +while. 'Yes, I see that you are a true Prince,' for strange to say, he +was as skilful at her game as she was herself. + +"And they played with her balls for a long time throwing them higher and +higher without ever missing, and laughing with pleasure, like two merry +children. + +"Then suddenly the Prince started from his seat, and his face grew sad +and grave. + +"'I must go,' he said; 'my hour of liberty is over.' + +"'Go?' said the Princess in surprise and distress, for she had found the +Prince a very pleasant companion. 'You must go? and leave me alone +here?' + +"She looked as if she were going to cry, and the Prince looked as if he +were going to cry too. + +"'Alas, Princess!' he said, 'in my joy for the moment, I had almost +forgotten my sad fate;' and then he went on to explain to her that for +many years past he had been under a fairy spell, the work of an evil +fairy who had vowed to revenge herself on his parents for some fancied +insult to her. He had been forced to take the form of a bull and to +spread terror wherever he went; and the power of this spell was to +continue till he should meet with a beautiful Princess who of her own +free will would return with him to his country and treat him with +friendliness, both of which conditions had been now fulfilled. + +"'Then all is right!' exclaimed the Princess joyfully. 'Why should you +look so sad?' + +"'Alas! no,' repeated the Prince, 'the spell is but partly broken. I +have only power to regain my natural form for three hours every evening +after sunset. And for three years more must it be so. Then, if your +goodness continues so long, all will indeed be right. But during that +time it will be necessary for you to live alone, except for the three +hours I can pass with you, in this enchanted palace of mine. No harm +will befall you, all your wants will be supplied by invisible hands; but +for a young and beautiful Princess like you, it will be a sad trial, and +one that I feel I have no right to ask your consent to.' + +"'And can nothing be done?' said the Princess, 'nothing to shorten your +endurance of the spell?' + +"'Nothing,' said the Prince, sadly. 'Any effort to do so would only +cause fearful troubles. I drop my hated skin at sunset, but three hours +later I must resume it.' + +"He glanced towards the corner of the room where, though the Princess +had not before observed it, the brown bull's skin lay in a heap. + +"'Hateful thing!' said the Princess, clenching her pretty hands, 'I +would like to burn it.' + +"The Prince grew pale with fright. 'Hush! Princess,' he said. 'Never +breathe such words. Any rash act would have the most fearful +consequences.' + +"'What?' said the Princess, curiously. + +"The Prince came nearer her and said in a low voice, 'For _me_ they +would be such. In such a case I might too probably never see you more.' + +"The Princess blushed. Considering that he had spent ten years as a +bull, it seemed to her that the Prince's manners were really not to be +found fault with, and she promised him that she would consider the +matter over, and by the next evening tell him her decision. + +"She felt rather inclined to cry when she found herself again quite +alone in the great strange palace, for she was only sixteen, even though +so brave and cheerful. But still she had nothing whatever to complain +of. Not a wish was formed in her heart but it was at once fulfilled, for +this power was still the Prince's. She found, in what was evidently +intended for her dressing-room, everything a young Princess could +possibly desire in the shape of dresses, each more lovely than the +others; shoes of silk or satin, exquisitely embroidered to suit her +various costumes; laces and shawls, ribbons and feathers, and jewels of +every conceivable kind in far greater abundance than so sensible a young +lady found at all necessary. But believing all these pretty things to be +provided to please her by the Prince's desire, she endeavoured to amuse +herself with them, and found it rather interesting for the first time in +her life to have to choose for herself. Her breakfasts and dinners, and +everything conceivable in the shape of delicate and delicious food, +appeared whenever she wished for anything of the kind; invisible hands +opened the windows and shut the doors, lighted the lamps when the +evening closed in, arranged her long fair hair more skilfully than any +mortal maid, and brushed it softly when at night she wished to have it +unfastened. Books in every language to interest her, for the Princess +had been well taught, appeared on the tables, also materials for +painting and for embroidery, in which she was very clever. Altogether it +was impossible to complain, and the next day passed pleasantly enough, +though it must be confessed the young Princess often found herself +counting the hours till it should be that of sunset. + +"Punctual to the moment the Prince made his appearance, but to his +guest's distress he seemed careworn and anxious. + +"'Has some new misfortune threatened you?' she asked. + +"'No,' replied the Prince, 'but I have to-day scarcely been able to +endure my anxiety to learn your decision. Never in all these terrible +years has my suffering been greater, never have I so loathed the hideous +disguise in which I am compelled to live.' + +"Tears filled the Princess's eyes. Had anything been wanting to decide +her, the deep pity which she now felt for the unfortunate Prince would +have done so. + +"'I _have_ decided!' she exclaimed. 'Three years will soon pass, and I +shall be well able to amuse myself with all the charming things with +which I am surrounded. Besides, I shall see you every day, and the +looking forward to that will help to cheer me.' + +"It would be impossible to tell the Prince's delight. He became at once +as gay and lively as the day before. The Princess and he had supper +together, and amused themselves afterwards with the enchanted balls, and +the evening passed so quickly that the princess could hardly believe +more than one hour instead of three had gone, when he started up, saying +his time was over. It was sad to see him go, forced, through no fault of +his own, to return to his hated disguise; but still it was with a +lightened heart that the poor brown bull went tramping about during the +next one-and-twenty hours. + +"And on her side the Princess's lonely hours were cheered by the thought +that she was to be the means of freeing him from the power of the +terrible spell, for all that she saw of him only served to increase her +sympathy and respect. + +"So time went on. The Princess got more and more accustomed to her +strange life, and every day more attached to the Prince, who on his side +could not do enough to prove to her his gratitude. For many weeks he +never failed to enter her presence the instant the sun had sunk below +the horizon, and the three hours they spent together made amends to both +for the loneliness of the rest of the day. And whenever the Princess +felt inclined to murmur, she renewed her patience and courage by the +thought of how much harder to bear was the Prince's share of the trial. +She was allowed to remain in peaceful security, and to employ her time +in pleasant and interesting ways; while he was forced to rove the world +as a hateful monster, shunned by any of the human race whom he happened +to meet, constantly exposed to fatigue and privation. + +"Sometimes they spent a part of the evening in the beautiful gardens +surrounding the palace. There, one day, as sunset was approaching, the +Princess had betaken herself to wait the Prince's arrival, when a sad +shock met her. It was past the usual hour of his coming. Several times +she had wandered up and down the path by which he generally approached +the castle, tossing her balls as she went, for more than once he had +seen their glitter from a distance, and known by it that she was +waiting. But this evening she waited and watched in vain, and at last, a +strange anxiety seizing her, she turned towards the castle to see if +possibly he had entered from the other side, and was hurrying back when +a low moan reached her ears, causing her heart for an instant almost to +leave off beating with terror. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE END OF THE BROWN BULL. + + "'And happy they ever lived after'-- + Yes, that was the end of the tale." + + +"The Princess collected her courage, and turned in the direction of the +sound. It seemed to come from a little thicket of close-growing bushes +near which she had been passing. For a minute or two she could +distinguish nothing, but another moan guided her in the right direction, +and there, to her horror and distress, she saw the poor Prince lying on +the ground, pale and death-like. At first she thought he was without +consciousness, but when she hastened up to him with a cry, he opened his +eyes. + +"'Ah!' he said, faintly; 'I never thought I should have escaped alive. +How good of you to have come to seek for me, Princess; otherwise I might +have died here without seeing you again.' + +"'But you must not die,' said the Princess, weeping; 'can nothing be +done for you?' + +"He tried to sit up, and when the Princess had fetched him some water +from one of the numerous springs in the garden, he seemed better. But +his right arm was badly injured. + +"'How did it happen?' asked the Princess. 'I thought no mortal weapon +had power to hurt you. That has been my only consolation through these +lonely days of waiting.' + +"'You are right,' replied the Prince; 'as a bull nothing can injure me, +but in my own form I am in no way magically preserved. All day long I +have been chased by hunters, who saw in me, I suppose, a valuable prize. +I was terrified of the hour of sunset arriving and finding me far from +home. I used my utmost endeavour to reach this in time, but, alas! I was +overcome with fatigue, from which no spell protects me. At the entrance +to these gardens I saw the sun disappear, and I fell exhausted, just as +an arrow struck my right arm at the moment of my transformation. All I +could do was to crawl in among these bushes, and here I have lain, +thankful to escape from my persecutors, and most thankful to the happy +thought, Princess, which brought you this way.' + +"The Princess, her eyes still full of tears, helped him to the palace, +where she bound up his arm and tended him carefully, for, young as she +was, she had learnt many useful acts of this kind in her father's +castle. The wound was not a very serious one; the Prince was suffering +more from exhaustion and fatigue. + +"'If I could spend a day or two here in peace,' he said sadly, 'I should +quickly recover. But, alas! that is impossible. I must submit to my +cruel fate. But this night I must confine my wanderings to the forests +in this neighbourhood, where, perhaps, I may be able to hide from the +huntsmen, who, no doubt, will be watching for me.' + +"He sighed heavily, and the Princess's heart grew very sad. + +"'I have little more than an hour left,' he said. + +"'Yes,' said the Princess, 'sleep if you can; I will not disturb you.' + +"And when she saw that he had fallen asleep she went into the other +room, where in a corner lay the bull's skin, which the Prince had +dragged behind him from the spot where it had fallen off as the sun +sank. + +"The Princess looked at it with a fierce expression, very different to +the usual gentle look in her pretty eyes. + +"'Hateful thing!' she said, giving it a kick with her little foot; 'I +wonder how I could get rid of you. Even if the Prince did risk never +seeing me again, I am not sure but that it would be better for him than +to lead this dreadful life.' + +"And as her fancy pictured her poor Prince forced in this monstrous +disguise to wander about all night tired and shelterless, her +indignation rose beyond her control. She forgot where she was, she +forgot the magic power that surrounded her, she forgot everything except +her distress and anxiety. + +"'Hateful thing!' she repeated, giving the skin another kick; 'I wish +you were burnt to cinders.' + +"Hardly had she said the words when a sudden noise like a clap of +thunder shook the air; a flash of lightning seemed to glance past her +and alight on the skin, which in an instant shrivelled up to a cinder +like a burnt glove. Too startled at first to know whether she should +rejoice or not, the Princess gazed at her work in bewilderment, when a +voice of anguish, but, alas! a well-known voice, made her turn round. It +was the Prince, hastening from the palace with an expression half of +anger half of sorrowful reproach on his face. + +"'O Princess, Princess,' he cried, 'what have you done? But a little +more patience and all might have been well. And now I know not if I +shall ever see you again.' + +"'O Prince, forgive me, I did not mean it,' sobbed the poor Princess. 'I +_will_ see you again, and all shall yet be well.' + +"'Seek for me across the hill of ice and the sea of glass,' said the +Prince; but almost before the words had passed his lips a second +thunderclap, louder and more terrific than the first, was heard. The +Princess sank half fainting on the ground. When she again opened her +eyes, Prince, palace, everything had disappeared. She was alone, quite +alone, on a barren moorland, night coming on, and a cold cutting wind +freezing the blood in her veins. And she was clothed in the plain black +dress with which she had made her strange journey riding on the brown +bull. + +"It must be a dream, she thought, a terrible dream, and she shut her +eyes again. But no, it was no dream, and soon her courage revived, and +she began to ask herself what she should do. + +"'Seek me beyond the hill of ice and the sea of glass,' the Prince had +said; and she rose up to begin her weary journey. As she rose her hand +came in contact with something hard in the folds of her dress; it was +her golden balls. With the greatest delight she took them out of her +pocket and looked at them. They were as bright and beautiful as ever, +and the fairy's prophecy returned to the Princess's mind. + +"'With my balls and my ready wit I shall yet conquer the evil powers +that are against my poor Prince,' she said to herself cheerfully. +'Courage! all will be well." + +"But there were sore trials to go through in the first place. The +Princess set off on her journey. She had to walk many weary miles across +the moor, the cold wind blowing in her face, the rough ground pricking +her tender feet. But she walked on and on till at last the morning broke +and she saw a road before her, bordered on one side by a forest of +trees, for she had reached the extreme edge of the moor. She had gone +but a little way when she came to a small and miserable hovel, from +which issued feeble sounds of distress. The Princess went up to the door +and looked in--a very old woman sat huddled up in a corner weeping and +lamenting herself. + +"'What is the matter, my friend?' asked the Princess. + +"'Matter enough,' replied the old woman. 'I cannot light my fire, and I +am bitterly cold. Either the sticks are wet, or the strength has gone +out of my poor old arms.' + +"'Let me help you,' said the Princess. 'My arms are strong enough.' + +"She took the sticks and arranged them cleverly in the fireplace, and +just as she was choosing two of the driest to rub together to get a +light, one of her balls dropped out of her pocket. It fell on to the +piled-up wood, and immediately a bright flame danced up the chimney. The +Princess picked up her ball and put it back in her pocket, cheered and +encouraged by this proof of their magic power. The old woman came near +to the fire, and stretched out her withered hands to the blaze. + +"'What can I do for you, my pretty lady,' she said, 'in return for your +good nature?' + +"'Give me a cup of milk to refresh me for my journey,' said the +Princess. 'And perhaps, too, you can tell me something about my journey. +Are the hill of ice and the sea of glass anywhere in this +neighbourhood?' + +"The old woman smiled and nodded her head two or three times. + +"'Seven days must you travel,' she said, 'before you see them. At the +foot of the hill of ice lies the sea of glass. No mortal foot unaided +has ever crossed the one or ascended the other. Here, take these +shoes--with them you can safely walk over the sea of glass, and with +this staff you can mount the hill of ice,' and as she spoke she handed +to the Princess a pair of curiously carved wooden shoes and a short +sharp-pointed stick. The Princess took them gratefully, and would have +thanked the old woman, whom she now knew to be a fairy, but she stopped +her. "'Think not,' she said, 'that your difficulties will be over when +you have reached the summit of the hill of ice. But all I can do for you +more is to give you this nut, which you must open in your moment of +sorest perplexity.' + +"And as the Princess held out her hand for the nut the old woman had +disappeared. + +"But refreshed and encouraged the Princess left the cottage, carrying +with her her three gifts, and prepared to face all the perils of her +journey with an undaunted heart. + +"It would be impossible to describe all she went through during the +seven days which passed before she reached the sea of glass. She saw +some strange and wonderful sights, for in those days the world was very +different from what it is now. She was often tired and hungry, thankful +for a cup of milk or crust of bread from those she happened to meet on +the way. But her courage never failed her, and at last, on the morning +of the eighth day, she saw shining before her in the sunlight the great +silent sea of glass of which she had been told. + +"It would have been hopeless to attempt to cross it without fairy aid, +for it was polished more brightly than any mirror, and so hard that no +young Princess's bones could have borne a fall on its cruel surface. But +with the magic shoes there was less than no difficulty, for no sooner +had the Princess slipped her feet into them than they turned into +skates, and very wonderful skates, for they possessed the power of +enabling their wearer to glide along with the greatest swiftness. The +Princess had never skated in her life, and she was delighted. + +"'Next to flying,' she said to herself, 'nothing could be pleasanter,' +and she was almost sorry when her skim across the sea of glass was over, +and she found herself at the foot of the hill of ice. + +"She looked upwards with something like despair. It was a terrible +ascent to attempt, for the mountain was all but straight, so steep were +its sides of hard, clear, sparkling ice. The Princess looked at her +feet, the magic shoes had already disappeared; she looked at the staff +she still held in her hand--how could a stick help her up such a +mountain? and half impatiently, half hopelessly, she threw it from her. +Instantly it stretched itself out, growing wider and wider, the notches +in the wood expanding, till it had taken the shape of a roughly-made +ladder of irregular steps, hooked on to the ice by the sharp spike at +its end, and the Princess, ashamed of her discouragement, mounted up the +steps without difficulty, and as she reached the top one, of itself the +ladder pushed up before her, so that she could mount straight up without +hesitation. + +"She stepped forward bravely. It took a long time, even though she had +the fairy aid, and by the time she reached the top of the hill night had +fallen, and but for the light of the stars, she would not have known +where to step. A long plain stretched before her--no trees or bushes +even broke the wide expanse. There was no shelter of any kind, and the +Princess found herself obliged to walk on and on, for the wind was very +cold, and she dared not let herself rest. This night and the next day +were the hardest part of all the journey, and seemed even more so, +because the Princess had hoped that the sea of glass and the hill of ice +were to be the worst of her difficulties. More than once she was tempted +to crack the nut, the last of the old woman's presents, but she +refrained, saying to herself she might yet be in greater need, and she +walked on and on, though nearly dead with cold and fatigue, till late in +the afternoon. Then at last, far before her still, she saw gleaming the +lights of a city, and, encouraged by the sight, she gathered her courage +together and pressed on, till, at the door of a little cottage at the +outskirts of the town, she sank down with fatigue. An old woman, with a +kind face, came out of the house and invited her to enter and rest. + +"'You look sorely tired, my child,' she said. 'Have you travelled far?' + +"'Ah yes!' replied the poor Princess, 'very far. I am nearly dead with +fatigue;' and indeed she looked very miserable. Her beautiful fair hair +was all tumbled and soiled, her poor little feet were scratched and +blistered, her black dress torn and draggled--she looked far more like a +beggar-maiden than like a princess. But yet, her pretty way of speaking +and gentle manners showed she was not what she seemed, and when she had +washed her face and combed her hair, the old woman looked at her with +admiration. + +"'Tis a pity you have not a better dress,' she said, 'for then you could +have gone with me to see the rejoicings in the town for the marriage of +our Prince.' + +"'Is your Prince to be married to-day?' asked the Princess. + +"'No, not to-day--to-morrow,' said the old woman. 'But the strange thing +is that it is not yet known who is to be his bride. The Prince has only +lately returned to his home, for, for many years, he has been shut up by +a fairy spell in a beautiful palace in the north, and now that the spell +is broken and he is restored to his parents, they are anxious to see him +married. But he must still be under a spell of some kind, they say, for +though he has all that heart can wish, he is ever sad and silent, and as +if he were thinking of something far away. And he has said that he will +marry no princess but one who can catch three golden balls at a time, as +if young princesses were brought up to be jugglers! Nevertheless, all +the princesses far and wide have been practising their best at catching +balls, and to-morrow the great feasts are to begin, and she who catches +best is to be chosen out of all the princesses as the bride of our +Prince.' + +"The poor Princess listened with a beating heart to the old woman's +talk. There could be no doubt as to who the Prince of this country was. + +"'I have come but just in time,' she said to herself, and then she +rose, and thanking her hostess for her kindness, said she must be going. + +"'But where are you going, you poor child?' said the old woman. 'You +look far too tired to go farther and for two or three days all these +rejoicings will make the country unpleasant for a young girl to travel +through alone. Stay with me till you are rested.' + +"The Princess thanked her with tears in her eyes for her kindness. 'I +have nothing to reward you with,' she said, 'but some day I may be able +to do so' and then she thankfully accepted her offer. + +"'And to-morrow,' said the old woman, 'you must smarten yourself up as +well as you can, and then we shall go out to see the gay doings.' + +"But the Princess lay awake all night thinking what she should do to +make herself known to her faithful Prince. + +"The next day the old woman went out early to hear all about the +festivities. She came back greatly excited. + +"'Come quickly,' she said. 'The crowd is so great that no one will +notice your poor clothes. And, indeed, among all the pretty girls there +will be none prettier than you,' she added, looking admiringly at the +Princess, who had arranged her beautiful hair and brushed her soiled +dress, and who looked sweeter than ever now that she was rested and +refreshed. 'There are three princesses who have come to the feast,' she +went on, 'the first from the south, the second from the east, the third +from the west, each more beautiful than another, the people say. The +trial of the golden balls is to be in the great hall of the palace, and +a friend of mine has promised me a place at one of the windows which +overlook it, so that we can see the whole;' and the Princess, feeling as +if she were in a dream, rose up to accompany the old woman, her balls +and her precious nut in her pocket. + +"They made their way through the crowd and placed themselves at the +window, as the old woman had said. The Princess looked down at the great +hall below, all magnificently decorated and already filled with +spectators. Suddenly the trumpet sounded, and the Prince in whose honour +was all the rejoicing entered. At sight of him--her own Prince indeed, +but looking so strangely pale and sad that she would hardly have +recognised him--the Princess could not restrain a little cry. + +"'What is it?' said the old woman. + +"'A passer-by trod on my foot,' said the Princess, fearful of attracting +attention. And the old woman said no more, for at this moment another +blast of trumpets announced the arrival of the princesses, who were to +make the trial of the balls. The first was tall and dark, with raven +tresses and brilliant, flashing eyes. She was dressed in a robe of rich +maize colour, and as she took her place on the dais she looked round +her, as if to say, 'Who can compete with me in beauty or in skill?' And +she was the Princess of the south. + +"The second was also tall, and her hair was of a deep rich brown, and +her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks rosy. She was dressed in bright +pink, and laughed as she came forward, as if sure of herself and her +attractions. And she was the Princess of the east. + +"The third moved slowly, and as if she cared little what was thought of +her, so confident was she of her pre-eminence. She wore a blue robe, and +her face was pale and her eyes cold, though beautiful. And her hair had +a reddish tinge, but yet she too was beautiful. And she was the Princess +of the west. + +"The Prince bowed low to each, but no smile lit up his grave face, and +his glance rested but an instant on each fair Princess as she +approached. + +"'Are these ladies all?' he asked, in a low voice, as if expecting yet +more. And when the answer came, 'Yes, these are all,' a still deeper +melancholy settled on his face, and he seemed indifferent to all about +him. + +"Then the trial began. The Prince had three golden balls, one of which +he offered to each Princess. They took them, and each threw one back to +him. Then one after another, as quick as lightning, he threw all three +to the yellow Princess. She caught them all and threw them back; again +he returned them, but the first only, reached her hand, the second and +third fell to the ground, and with another low bow the Prince turned +from her, and her proud face grew scarlet with anger. The pink Princess +fared no better. She was laughing so, as if to show her confidence, that +she missed the third ball, even at the first throw, and when the Prince +turned also from her she laughed again, though this time her laughter +was not all mirth. Then the cold blue Princess came forward. She caught +the balls better, but at the third throw, one of them rising higher than +the others, she would not trouble herself to stretch her arm out +farther, so it fell to the ground, and as the Prince turned from her +likewise, a great silence came over the crowd. + +"Suddenly a cry arose. 'A fourth Princess,' the people shouted, and the +old woman up at the window was so eager to see the new-comer that she +did not notice that her companion had disappeared. She had watched the +failure of the two first Princesses, then seeing what was coming she had +quietly made her way through the crowd to a hidden corner behind the +great pillars of the hall. There, her hands trembling with eagerness, +she drew forth from the magic nut, which she had cracked with her pretty +teeth, a wonderful fairy robe of spotless white. In an instant her black +dress was thrown to her feet, and the white garment, which fitted her as +if by magic, had taken its place. Never was Princess dressed in such a +hurry, but never was toilette more successful. And as the cry arose of +'A fourth Princess' she made her way up the hall. From one end to the +other she came, rapidly making her way through the crowd, which cleared +before her in surprise and admiration, for as she walked she threw +before her, catching them ever as she went, her golden balls. Her fair +hair floated on her shoulders, her white robe gleamed like snow, her +sweet face, flushed with hope and eagerness, was like that of a happy +child, her eyes saw nothing but the one figure standing at the far end +of the hall, the figure of the Prince, who, as the cry reached his +ears, started forward with a hope he hardly dared encourage, holding out +his hands as she came nearer and yet nearer in joyfulness of welcome. + +"But she waved him back--then, taking her place where the other +Princesses had stood, she threw her balls, one, two, three; in an +instant they were caught by the Prince, and returned to her like flashes +of lightning over and over again, never failing, never falling, as if +attached by invisible cords, till at last a great cry arose from the +crowds, and the Prince led forward, full in the view of the people, his +beautiful bride, his true Princess. + +"Then all her troubles were forgotten, and every one rejoiced, save +perhaps the three unsuccessful Princesses, who consoled themselves by +saying there was magic in it, and so possibly there was. But there is +more than one kind of magic, and some kinds, it is to be hoped, the +world will never be without. And messengers were sent to summon to the +wedding the father and mother of the Princess, who all this time had +been in doubt and anxiety as to the fate of their dear child. And the +kind old woman who had sheltered her in her poverty and distress was not +forgotten." + +The voice stopped--for a minute or two the children sat silent, not +sure if they were to hear anything else. Strangely enough, as the story +went on, it seemed more and more as if it were Marcelline's voice that +was telling it, and at last Hugh looked up to see if it was still the +white lady, whose knee his head was resting on. Jeanne too looked up at +the same moment, and both children gave a little cry of surprise. The +white lady had disappeared, and it was indeed Marcelline who was in her +place. The white room, the white chairs, the white cats, the +spinning-wheel, and the pointed windows, had all gone, and instead there +was old Marcelline with her knitting-needles gently clicking in a +regular way, that somehow to Hugh seemed mixed up with his remembrance +of the soft whirr of the wheel, her neatly frilled cap round her face, +and her bright dark eyes smiling down at the children. Hugh felt so +sorry and disappointed that he shut his eyes tight and tried to go on +dreaming, if indeed dreaming it was. But it was no use. He leant his +face against Marcelline's soft white apron and tried to fancy it the +fairy lady's fairy robe; but it was no use. He had to sit up and look +about him. + +"Well," said Marcelline, "and didn't you like the story?" + +Hugh looked at Jeanne. It couldn't be a dream then--there _had_ been a +story, for if he had been asleep, of course he couldn't have heard it. +He said nothing, however--he waited to see what Jeanne would say. Jeanne +tossed back her head impatiently. + +"Of course I liked it," she said. "It's a beautiful story. But, +Marcelline, how did you turn into yourself--_was_ it you all the time? +Why didn't you leave us with the white lady?" + +Hugh was so pleased at what Jeanne said that he didn't mind a bit about +Marcelline having taken the place of the white lady. Jeanne was the same +as he was--that was all he cared about. He jumped up eagerly--they were +in Jeanne's room, close to the fire, and both Jeanne and he had their +little red flannel dressing-gowns on. + +"How did these come here?" he said, touching the sleeve of his own one. + +"Yes," said Jeanne. "And where are our wings, if you please, Mrs. +Marcelline?" + +Marcelline only smiled. + +"I went to fetch you," she said, "and of course I didn't want you to +catch cold on the way back." + +But that was _all_ they could get her to say, and then she carried them +off to bed, and they both slept soundly till morning. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +DUDU'S OLD STORY. + + "It was not a story, however, + But just of old days that had been." + CHILD NATURE. + + +It was queer, but so it was. The children said very little to each other +the next day of their new adventures. Only Hugh felt satisfied that this +time little Jeanne had forgotten nothing; daylight Jeanne and moonlight +Jeanne were the same. Yet he had a feeling that if he said much about +it, if he persisted in trying to convince Jeanne that he had been right +all through, he might spoil it all. It would be like seizing the fairy +lady's cobweb threads roughly, and spoiling them, and finding you had +nothing left. He felt now quite content to let it all be like a pretty +dream which they both knew about, but which was not for everyday life. + +Only one impression remained on his mind. He got the greatest wish to +learn to throw balls like the princess of the Brown Bull story, and for +some days every time they went out, he kept peering in at the toy-shop +windows to see if such a thing as golden balls was to be had. And at +last Jeanne asked him what he was always looking for, and then he told +her. + +She agreed with him that golden balls would be a very pretty play, but +she was afraid such a thing could not be found. + +"They were fairy balls, you know, Chéri," she said, gravely. + +"Yes," Hugh replied, "he knew they were; he did not expect such balls as +they were, of course, but still he didn't see why they might not get +some sort of gold-looking balls. There were red and blue, and green ones +in plenty. He didn't see why there should be no gold ones." + +"Gold is so very dear," said Jeanne. + +"Yes, real gold is, of course," said Hugh; "but there are lots of things +that look like gold that can't be real gold--picture frames, and the +edges of books, and lots of other things." + +"Yes," said Jeanne, "but still, I don't see that the stuff any of those +are made of would do to make balls of." + +However, she joined Hugh in the search, and many a day when they were +out they peeped together not only into the toy-shops, but into the +windows of the queer old curiosity shops, of which, in the ancient town +which was Jeanne's home, there were many. And at last one day they told +Marcelline what it was they were so anxious to find. She shook her head. +There was no such toy in _this_ country, she said, but she did not laugh +at them, or seem to think them silly. And she advised them to be content +with the prettiest balls they _could_ get, which were of nice smooth +buff-coloured leather, very well made, and neither too soft nor too +hard. And in the sunlight, said Jeanne, they really had rather a shiny, +goldy look. + +For several days to come these balls were a great interest to the +children. Early and late they were practising at them, and, with +patience and perseverance, they before long arrived at a good deal of +skill. Jeanne was the quicker in the first place, but Hugh was so +patient that he soon equalled her, and then the interest grew still +greater. + +"I really think, Chéri," said Jeanne, one evening, when they had been +playing for a good while, "I really think our balls are _getting_ to be +rather like fairy ones. Every day they go better and better." + +"Perhaps it is our hands that are getting to be like fairy ones," said +Hugh. "But it is growing too dark to see to play any more." + +They were playing in the tapestry room, for Marcelline had told them +they would have more space there, as it was large, and Hugh's little bed +in the corner did not take up much room. It was getting dusk, for the +days were not yet very long, though winter was almost over, and they had +been playing a good while. As Hugh spoke he gave the last ball a final +throw high up in the air, higher than usual, for though Jeanne sprang +forward to catch it, she missed it somehow. It dropped to the ground +behind her. + +"O Chéri!" she cried, reproachfully, "that is the first time I have +missed. Oh dear, where can the ball have gone to?" + +She stooped down to look for it, and in a minute Hugh was down beside +her. They felt all about, creeping on their hands and knees, but the +missing ball was not to be so easily found. + +[Illustration: 'IS THIS A NEW PART OF THE HOUSE?'--p. 201.] + +"It must have got behind the tapestry," said Hugh, pulling back as he +spoke, a corner of the hangings close to where he and Jeanne were, +which seemed loose. And at the same moment both children gave a little +cry of astonishment. Instead of the bare wall which they expected to +see, or to feel rather, behind the tapestry, a flight of steps met their +view--a rather narrow flight of steps running straight upwards, without +twisting or turning, and lighted from above by a curious hanging lamp, +hanging by long chains from a roof high up, which they could not see. + +"Why, is this a new part of the house?" cried Hugh. "Jeanne, did you +know there were stairs behind the tapestry?" + +"No, of course not," said Jeanne. "It must be a part of our house, I +suppose, but I never saw it before. Shall we go up, Chéri, and see where +it takes us to? Perhaps it's another way to the white lady's turret, and +she'll tell us another story." + +"No," said Hugh, "I don't believe it leads to her turret, and I don't +think we could find our way there again. She seemed to mean we could +never go again, I think. But we may as well go up this stair, and see +what we do find, Jeanne." + +And just at that moment a funny thing happened. They heard a little +noise, and looking up, there--hopping down the stair before them, step +by step, as if some one had started it from the top, came the lost +ball, or what the children thought the lost ball, for with an +exclamation Hugh darted forward to pick it up, and held it out to +Jeanne. But Jeanne looked at it with astonishment. + +"Why, Chéri," she cried, "it's turned into gold." + +So it was, or at least into something which looked just like it. + +"Chéri," Jeanne went on, her eyes dancing with excitement, "I do believe +this is another way into Fairyland, or into some other queer place like +what we've seen. Come on, quick." + +The children seized hold of each other's hands, and hurried up the +stair. The steps were easier to mount than those of the corkscrew +staircase up to the white lady's turret, and very soon the children +found themselves at the top of the first flight. There, looking upwards, +they could see the roof. It was a sort of cupola; the chains from which +the lamps hung were fastened to the centre, but the rest of the roof was +of glass, and through it the children saw the sky, already quite dark, +and with innumerable stars dotting its surface. + +"Come on, Chéri," said Jeanne; "I believe this stair leads out on to the +roof of the house." + +So it did. A door at the top opened as they ran up the last steps, and a +familiar figure stepped out. + +"Dudu!" exclaimed Jeanne, in a tone of some disappointment. + +"Did you not expect to see me?" said the raven. "Why, I thought it would +amuse you to come up here and see the stars." + +"So it will," said Hugh, anxious to make up for Jeanne's abruptness. +"But, you see, we thought--at least we hoped--we should find some new +adventures up here, especially when the ball hopped down the stairs, all +gold." + +"What did you expect?" said Dudu, cocking his head. "Fairies, I suppose, +or enchanted princesses, or something of that kind. What creatures +children are for wonders, to be sure." + +"Now, Dudu," said Jeanne, "you needn't talk that way. Whether we're fond +of wonders or not, anyhow it's you that's given us them to be fond of. +It was you that sent us to the frogs' country, and all that, and it was +you that took us to hear the white lady's story. So you're not to laugh +at us, and you must find us some more adventures, now you've brought us +up here." + +"Adventures don't grow on every tree, Mademoiselle Jeanne," remarked +Dudu. + +"Well, _Dudus_ don't either," replied Jeanne; "but as we've got _you_, +you see, it all depends on you to get us the adventures. I know you can, +if you like." + +Dudu shook his head. + +"No," he said, "there are many things I can't do. But come out on to the +roof, we can talk there just as well." + +He just turned towards the door by which he had entered, and it opened +of itself. He hopped through, and the children followed him. They found +themselves, as Dudu had said, on the roof of the house, of a part of the +house, that is to say. It seemed more like the roof of a little tower or +turret. + +Hugh and Jeanne stood for a moment or two in silence, looking up at the +brilliant show of stars overhead. It was not cold, the air seemed +peculiarly fresh and sweet, as if it were purer and finer than that +lower down. + +"It's rather nice up here, eh?" said Dudu. + +"Yes, very," replied Hugh. "We're very much obliged to you for bringing +us up here. Aren't we, Jeanne?" + +"Yes," said Jeanne, "not counting fairies and adventures that's to say, +it's very nice up here." + +"I often come up here at night," said Dudu. "I wonder how many thousand +times I've been up here." + +"Are you so very old, Dudu?" said Jeanne, "as old as the white lady?" + +"I daresay," said Dudu, vaguely--he seemed to be thinking to himself. +"Yes," he continued, cocking his head on one side, "I suppose I am what +_you_ would call very old, though the white lady would consider me quite +a baby. Yes, I've seen queer things in my time." + +"_What?_" said the children both together, eagerly, "oh, do tell us some +of them. If you would tell us a story, Dudu, it would be as nice as an +adventure." + +"Stories," said Dudu, "are hardly in my line. I might tell you a little +of some things I've seen, but I don't know that they would interest +you." + +"Oh yes! oh yes!" cried the children, "of course they would. And it's so +nice and warm up here, Dudu--much warmer than in the house." + +"Sit down, then," said Dudu, "here, in this corner. You can lean against +the parapet,"--for a low wall ran round the roof--"and look at the stars +while you listen to me. Well--one day, a good long while ago you would +consider it, no doubt----" + +"Was it a hundred years ago?" interrupted Jeanne. + +"About that, I daresay," said the raven carelessly. "I cannot be quite +exact to twenty or thirty years, or so. Well, one day--it was a very hot +day, I remember, and I had come up here for a little change of air--I +was standing on the edge of the parapet watching our two young ladies +who were walking up and down the terrace path down there, and thinking +how nice they looked in their white dresses and blue sashes tied close +up under their arms, like the picture of your great-grandmother as a +young girl, in the great salon, Mademoiselle Jeanne." + +"Oh yes, I know it," said Jeanne. "She has a nice face, but _I_ don't +think her dress is at all pretty, Dudu." + +"And I don't suppose your great-grandmother would think yours at all +pretty, either, Mademoiselle Jeanne," said Dudu, with the queer sort of +croak which he used for a laugh. "It is one of the things that has +amazed me very much in my observations--the strange fancies the human +race has about clothes. Of course you are not so fortunate as we are in +having them ready-made, but still I cannot understand why you don't do +the best you can--adopt a pattern and keep to it always. It would be the +next best thing to having feathers, _I_ should say." + +"I don't think so," said Jeanne. "It would be very stupid every morning +when you got up, and every time you were going out, or friends coming to +see you, or anything like that--it would be _very_ stupid never to have +to think, 'What shall I put on?' or to plan what colours would look nice +together. There would hardly be any use in having shops or dressmakers, +or anything. And _certainly_, Monsieur Dudu, I wouldn't choose to be +dressed like you, never anything but black--as if one were always going +to a funeral." + +"It is all a matter of taste, Mademoiselle," replied Dudu, so amiably +that Hugh wondered more and more at his politeness to Jeanne, who was +certainly not very civil to him. "For my part, I confess I have always +had a great fancy for white--the force of contrast, I suppose--and this +brings me back to telling you how very nice your great-grandmother and +her sister looked that day walking up and down the terrace path in their +white dresses." + +"My great-grandmother!" exclaimed Jeanne. "Why, you said 'our young +ladies.'" + +"So they were our young ladies," replied Dudu. "Even though one was your +great-grandmother, Mademoiselle, and not yours only but Monsieur Chéri's +too, and the other, of course, your great-grand-aunt. There have been +many 'our young ladies' that I can remember in this house, which has so +long been the home of one family, and my home always. In three or four +hundred years one sees a good deal. Ah yes! Well, as I was saying, I was +standing on the edge of the parapet looking over at the young ladies, +and admiring them and the sunshine and the flowers in the garden all at +once, when I suddenly heard a window open. It was not one of the windows +of our house. I have very quick ears, and I knew that in an instant, so +I looked about to see what window it was. In those days there were not +quite so many houses behind our garden as there are now. Your +great-great-grandfather sold some of the land about that time, and then +houses were built, but just then there were only two or three that +overlooked one side of the garden. One of them was a large high house, +which was let in flats to various families, often visitors to the town, +or strangers who had come for a short time for the education of their +children, or some other reason. It was not long before I discovered +that the window I had heard open was in this house. It was one on the +second story, looking on to a little balcony which at one end was not +very high above the terrace walk. I watched to see who had opened the +window, and in a few moments I saw peeping out half timidly the pretty +fair face of a little girl. Quite a little girl she was, not much older +than you, Mademoiselle Jeanne, but not like you, for she had light hair +and soft blue eyes, and a fair face like Monsieur Chéri. She was a +little English girl. She peeped out, and then, seeing that no one was +observing her, she came quietly on to the balcony, and, creeping down +into a corner where she could scarcely be seen, she sat watching our two +pretty young ladies with all her eyes. No wonder, I thought; they were +very pretty young ladies, and it was nice to see them together, walking +up and down with arms intertwined, and talking eagerly, their talk +sometimes interrupted by merry bursts of soft girlish laughter. And all +the time the lonely little creature on the balcony sat and watched them +longingly, her little pale face pressed against the bars, her plain +black dress almost hiding her from notice. + +"'How happy they look, those pretty young ladies,' the lonely little +girl said to herself. 'How happy I should be if I had a sister, for I +have no one to talk to, no one to kiss me and play with me and if ever I +say I am sad my aunt is angry. O mother! why did you go away and leave +me?'" + +"Could you hear all that from up here on the roof?" said Jeanne. "Dear +me, Dudu, you must have good ears." + +"Of course I have; I told you so, Mademoiselle," said Dudu drily. "I had +better ears than your great-grandmother and her sister, for they heard +nothing, not even when the poor little girl took courage to push her +face farther forward between the railings, and to say very softly and +timidly, + +"'Mesdemoiselles, Mesdemoiselles, _might_ I come and walk with you? I am +so tired of being here all alone.' + +"They did not hear her. They were talking too busily about the fête of +their mother, I think, which was to be in a few days, and of what they +were to prepare for her. And the poor little girl sat up there for more +than an hour watching them with longing eyes, but not daring to call out +more loudly. It made me quite melancholy to see her, and when at last +our young ladies went in, and she had to give up hopes of gaining their +attention, it made me more melancholy still, she looked so +disappointed, and her eyes were full of tears; and I felt quite upset +about her, and kept turning over in my head what I could do to make her +happier. I thought about it for some time, and at last I decided that +the first thing to do was to find out more about the little stranger and +the cause of her grief. For this purpose I stationed myself the next +morning just below the window of the kitchen of her house, which, by +hopping from the balcony, I was easily able to do, and by listening to +the conversation of the servants I soon learned all I wanted to know. +She was, as I had supposed, a little English girl. Her mother had died +in Italy but a short time before, and she was now in the charge of her +mother's aunt, an elderly and severe lady, who understood nothing about +children, and took no pains to make poor little Charlotte happy. So it +was a sad life for the child, whose father also was dead; and as from +the talk of the servants I gathered that she was a good and gentle +little girl, I felt more sorry for her than before; and as I hopped back +on to the balcony I looked to see if she was again at the window. Yes, +there she was, her face pressed against the glass, staring out in the +direction of the terrace walk, watching, no doubt, to see if our young +ladies were coming out again. I hopped in front of the window backwards +and forwards two or three times to catch her attention, and a smile lit +up her little pale face when she saw me. + +"'Good day, Mr. Raven,' she said politely. 'Have you come to see me? It +is very kind of you if you have, for I have nobody to play with. But, +oh! if you could tell those pretty young ladies how I should like to +walk about their garden with them, how pleased I should be.' + +"I bowed to her in token of understanding what she said, but I was not +sure that she noticed it, for she just went on chattering in her soft +little voice. + +"'Poor old raven,' she said. 'What a pity you can't speak, for if you +could I might send a message by you to those pretty young ladies;' and +though I walked slowly backwards and forwards on the balcony, and bowed +most politely each time I passed her, yet she did not seem to +understand." + +"Why didn't you speak?" interrupted Jeanne. "You can speak quite well to +Chéri and me. Had you not learned to speak at that time, Dudu?" + +The raven hemmed and hawed and cleared his throat. + +"It is not to the point, Mademoiselle," he said, "to enter into all +these explanations. If you would have the goodness to let me continue my +reminiscences without interrupting me, I should really be obliged. I +warned you I had not any amusing stories to tell, merely recollections +of scenes in my past life. If you would prefer my leaving off, you have +only to say so." + +"Oh no, no. Please go on," exclaimed Jeanne, seeing that the raven was +really ruffled. "I think it's _very_ interesting, and I'll promise not +to interrupt you any more." + +"Well," continued Dudu, "I bowed, as I told you, very politely two or +three times, and at last I hopped away, still revolving in my mind how I +could serve the poor little girl. That afternoon our young ladies came +again on to the terrace, but they did not stay long, and the little girl +was not to be seen on the balcony, though I daresay she was peering out +through the window to see as far as she could. And the next day and the +day after were very rainy, so there was nothing I could do. But after +that again there came a very fine day--a beautiful sunny day it was, I +remember it well--and our young ladies came out like the flowers and the +birds to enjoy it. Out, too, came the forlorn little black figure, +hiding itself as before behind the railings of the balcony, but looking +with longing eyes at the garden below, which to her must have seemed a +kind of Paradise. I directed my steps to the terrace, and walked slowly +in front of the young ladies, slowly and solemnly straight in front of +them, for I wanted to attract their attention. + +"'How particularly solemn Dudu looks to-day,' said one of them to the +other. + +"'Yes,' she replied, 'quite as if he had something on his mind. Have you +been doing anything naughty, Dudu?' + +"I turned and looked at her reproachfully. I was not offended, I knew +she was only joking, my character stood far above any imputation; but +still, there are subjects on which jokes are better avoided, and there +_was_ a cousin of mine whose honesty, I am sorry to say, had been more +than once suspected; altogether, I hardly thought the remark in good +taste, and Mademoiselle Eliane was not slow to perceive it. + +"'Poor old Dudu,' she cried; 'have I hurt your feelings? But tell me +what are you looking so solemn about?' + +"I looked at her again, and then, sure that she and her sister were +both watching me with attention, I sprang up the side of the wall next +the little stranger's house, hopped over the balcony railings, and +finding, as I expected, my little friend crouched down in the corner, I +gave a loud, sharp croak, as if something were the matter. Charlotte +started up in a fright, and the young ladies, watching me curiously, for +the first time observed her little figure. + +"'Why, Dudu has a friend up there!' exclaimed Mademoiselle Jeanne--your +great-grandmother, my dears. 'Mademoiselle,' she called out to the +little girl, whose small black figure did not look very much bigger than +mine as we stood up there side by side; 'Mademoiselle, do not be +frightened of our old raven. He will not hurt you.' + +"'I am not frightened, thank you,' said the little girl's gentle voice. +'He has been to see me before. I was only startled when he made that +funny noise. But O Mesdemoiselles,' she continued, clasping her hands in +entreaty, 'you do not know how I should like to come down into your +garden and play with you, or at least,' as she suddenly recollected that +such tall young ladies were rather past the age for mere 'playing,' +'walk about and talk with you. I have watched you so many days, and I am +so lonely. But I did not like to speak to you unless you spoke to me.' + +"'We never saw you,' said Mademoiselle Eliane. 'We should have seen you +now but for the funny way Dudu has been going on, as if he wanted to +introduce us to each other.' + +"I felt quite proud when Mademoiselle Eliane said that. It has always +been a gratification to me to find myself understood. And I felt still +prouder when the little girl replied, looking at me gratefully, + +"'How nice of him! He must have understood what I said to him in fun the +other day. But O Mesdemoiselles,' she went on, '_may_ I come down to +you?' + +"'How can you get down?' said Mademoiselle Jeanne; 'and are you sure your +mother would not mind?' + +"'I have no mother,' said the little girl sadly, 'and my aunt would not +mind, I know. She never minds what I do, if I don't make a noise.' + +"'But how can you get down?' repeated Mademoiselle Jeanne, 'unless Dudu +can take you on his back and fly with you!' + +"'Oh, I can easily get down,' said the little girl; 'I have often +planned it. I can climb over the railings at this end--look, there is a +jutting-out ledge that I can put my foot on. Then I can stand a minute +outside and jump--if you will come close to, so that I shall not roll +down the terrace bank.' + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +AU REVOIR. + + "One after another they flew away + Far up to the heavenly blue, + To the better country, the upper day----" + JEAN INGELOW. + + +"Little Charlotte climbed over the railings," continued Dudu, "but she +did not jump down on the other side, for Mademoiselle Eliane, who was +tall, found that by standing half-way up the bank she could reach the +child and hand her down to Mademoiselle Jeanne, a little way below. +There was a good deal of laughing over it all, and this helped them to +make friends more quickly than anything else would have done. But indeed +Charlotte was not a shy child, she had travelled too much and seen too +many people to be so, and our young ladies, besides, were so kind and +merry that no little girl could long have been strange with them. She +ran about the garden in the greatest delight; her new friends showed +her all their favourite nooks, and allowed her to make a bouquet of the +flowers she liked best; and when they were tired of standing about they +all sat down together on a bank, and Charlotte told to the young ladies +the story of her short life. It was a sad little story; her father had +died when she was very young, and her mother, whose health had never +been good after the shock of his death, had gone to Italy with the aunt +who had brought her up, in hopes of growing stronger. But through two or +three years of sometimes seeming better and sometimes worse, she had +really been steadily failing, and at last she died, leaving her poor +little girl almost alone, 'for the old aunt was now,' said Charlotte, +'always ill, and not ill as mamma used to be,' she added, for however +tired _she_ was, she always liked her little girl to be beside her, and +never wearied of listening to all she had to say. + +"'But now,' said the child, 'I am always alone, and it is _so_ sad. And +I have watched you so often from the balcony, and wished I might come +down to you. And now, if you will let me come to see you every day, I +shall be _so_ happy.' + +"She was a dear little girl, so sweet, and simple, and loving. She +quite gained our young ladies' hearts with her pretty ways and her funny +little English, accent. They kissed her on both cheeks, and told her +they would be very pleased for her to come to them in the garden +whenever she saw them from the balcony, as she was so sure her aunt +would not object to it. They could not invite her to the house, they +explained, unless their mother and her aunt had made acquaintance. Of +course it would not have done, as little Charlotte quite understood; for +in those days," Dudu observed in passing, "politeness and ceremony were +much more observed than is at present, I am sorry to say, the case. + +"The little English girl, however," he went on, "was only too delighted +to have received permission to visit them in their garden. And not many +days passed on which she did not join them there. It was a lovely summer +that year--I remember it so well. Never now does the sun seem to me to +shine quite so brightly as in those days. Perhaps it is that I am +growing old, perhaps the sad days that soon after followed left a cloud +on my memory and a mist on my spirit which have never since entirely +cleared away; however that may be, I never remember so bright and +beautiful a summer as the one I am telling you of. And little +Charlotte's merry laugh was often heard on the terrace walk, as she ran +races with Mademoiselle Eliane's dog, or made daisy wreaths for +Mademoiselle Jeanne's dark hair. Kindness and companionship were all she +required to make her a bright and happy child. But the pleasant summer +faded, and with the first autumn days came a fresh sorrow for the little +girl. One morning, before the usual time for meeting in the garden, I +caught sight of her on the balcony, her face looking again like the +little pale Charlotte I had first known her, her eyes red with weeping. +And as by good chance the young ladies came out soon the reason was soon +explained. + +"'I am going away, my dear young ladies,' cried Charlotte, as she threw +herself into their arms. 'My aunt has just told me. We return to England +in a few days. To England, where I have no friends, where I shall be +again all alone. O Mademoiselle Eliane! O Mademoiselle Jeanne! what +shall I do without you, and your pretty garden, and your kindness, and +poor old Dudu, and the flowers, and everything?' + +"They consoled her as well as they could, my kind young ladies, whose +hearts were always full of sympathy. But the tears came to their own +eyes when they saw how real and acute was the little girl's grief. + +"'You will come back to see us again, little Charlotte, perhaps,' they +said. 'Your aunt has travelled so much, very likely she will not wish to +remain always in England. And you would always find us here--in the +winter at any rate; generally in the summer we spend some months at our +château, though this summer our father had business which obliged him to +stay here. But for that we should not have seen you so much.' + +"But Charlotte was not to be consoled. Her aunt, she was sure, would +never travel any more. She had said only that very morning, that once +she got back to England she would stay there for the rest of her life, +she was too old to move about any more. + +"'And I,' added Charlotte, with a fresh burst of weeping, 'I am to be +sent to an English school as soon as aunt can settle about it.' + +"'But you will be happier at school, dear,' said Mademoiselle Eliane. +'You will have friends of your own age.' + +"'I don't want friends of my own age. I shall never love _any_ friends +as much as my dear Mademoiselle Jeanne and my dear Mademoiselle +Eliane,' sobbed Charlotte; and the only thing that consoled her at all +was when the two young ladies found for her among their little treasures +a very prettily painted 'bonbonnière,' and a quaint little workcase, +fitted with thimble, scissors, and all such things, which she promised +them she would always keep, _always_, as souvenirs of their kindness. + +"And in return, the poor little thing went out with her aunt's maid the +next morning and bought two little keepsakes--a scent-bottle for +Mademoiselle Jeanne, and a fan for Mademoiselle Eliane. She spent on +them all the money she had; and at this very moment," added Dudu, "the +scent-bottle is downstairs in your mother's large old dressing-case, the +dressing-case she got from her grandfather. What became of the fan I +cannot say. + +"Well, the few remaining days passed, and one cold, dreary morning poor +Charlotte clambered over the railings for the last time, to embrace her +friends and bid them farewell. She might have come in by the door and +seen them in the salon; of course neither her aunt nor our young ladies' +mother would have objected to such a thing, as she was going away, even +though no visits of ceremony had been exchanged between the families. +But this would not have suited Charlotte; it was in the garden she had +first seen her friends, and in the garden must she bid them good-bye. I +assisted at the interview," continued Dudu, "and very touching it was. +Had I been of a nature to shed tears, I really think my feelings would +have been too much for me. And Charlotte would have kissed and hugged me +too, no doubt, had I encouraged anything of the kind. But, fortunately +perhaps for the preservation of my feathers and my dignity, I am not, +and never have been, of a demonstrative disposition." + +Dudu cleared his throat and stopped to rest for a moment. Then he +continued-- + +"The parting was over at last, and little Charlotte was away--quite away +over the sea in cold, rainy England. Cold and rainy it must have been +that winter in any case, for it was cold and rainy even here, and many +changes happened, and shadows of strange events were already faintly +darkening the future. It was the next year that our pretty Mademoiselle +Jeanne married and went away with her husband from the old house, which +yet was to be her home, and the home of her children in the end, for +Mademoiselle Eliane never married, and so all came to be inherited by +her sister's sons. But with that we have nothing to do at present. I +wished only to tell you what concerns our young ladies' friendship with +the little stranger. Years went on, as they always do, whether they +leave the world happy or miserable, and the shadows I have told you of +grew darker and darker. Then, at last, the terrible days began--the +storm burst forth, our happy, peaceful home, with hundreds and thousands +of others, was broken up, and its kindly inhabitants forced to flee. +Mademoiselle Jeanne came hurrying up from her husband's home, where +things were even worse than with us, with her boys, to seek for shelter +and safety, which, alas! could not be given her here. For all had to +flee--my poor old master, frail as he was, his delicate wife, our young +ladies, and the boys--all fled together, and after facing perils such as +I trust none of their descendants will ever know, they reached a safe +refuge. And then they had to endure a new misery, for months and months +went by before they had any tidings of poor Mademoiselle Jeanne's +husband, your great-grandfather, my children, who, like all of his +name--a name you may well be proud of, my little Mademoiselle +Jeanne--stayed at the post of danger till every hope was passed. Then at +last, in disguise, he managed to escape, and reached this place in +safety, hoping here to find something to guide him as to where his wife +and children were. But he found nothing--the house was deserted, not a +servant or retainer of any kind left except myself, and what, alas! +could _I_ do? He was worn out and exhausted, poor man; he hid in the +house for a few days, creeping out at dusk in fear and trembling to buy +a loaf of bread, trusting to his disguise and to his not being well +known in the town. But he would have died, I believe, had he been long +left as he was, for distress of mind added to his other miseries, not +knowing anything as to what had become of your great-grandmother and his +children. + +"She was a good wife," continued Dudu, after another little pause. "Our +Mademoiselle Jeanne, I mean. Just when her poor husband was losing heart +altogether, beginning to think they must all be dead, that there was +nothing left for him to do but to die too, she came to him. She had +travelled alone, quite alone, our delicate young lady--who in former +days had scarcely been allowed to set her little foot on the +pavement--from Switzerland to the old home, with a strange belief that +here if anywhere she should find him. And she was rewarded. The worst of +the terrible days were now past, but still disguise was necessary, and +it was in the dress of one of her own peasants--the dress in which she +had fled--that Mademoiselle Jeanne returned. But he knew her--through +all disguises he would have known her--and she him. And the first +evening they were together in the bare, deserted house, even with all +the terrors behind them, the perils before them, the husband and wife +were happy." + +Dudu paused again. The children, too interested to speak, listened +eagerly. + +"Go on, dear Dudu," whispered Jeanne at last, softly. + +"How were they to get away to safety? That was the question," continued +Dudu. "They dared not stay long where they were; yet they dared not go. +Monsieur was far too feeble to stand much fatigue, and the two of them +journeying together might attract notice. + +"'If we could get to the sea,' said Mademoiselle Jeanne--Madame I should +call her, but it never comes naturally--there we might find a ship to +take us to England or Holland, and thence find our way to our dear ones +again.' + +"But Monsieur shook his head. 'Impossible,' he said. 'I have not the +strength for even the four leagues' walk to the sea, and finding a ship +that would take us is a mere chance. We have almost no money. Here at +least we have shelter, and still some sous for bread. Jeanne, my +beloved, you must make up your mind to leave me again--alone and +unhindered you might find your way back in safety.' + +"'I will never leave you,' said Jeanne. 'We will die together, if it +must be so. The boys are safe--my father and mother and Eliane will care +for them. I will never leave you.' + +"And Monsieur said no more; but in his own mind I could see that he +thought himself fast dying, that want of comforts and nourishment much +longer would exhaust his little strength, and that his poor Jeanne +would, in the end, be forced to attempt the journey back alone. They +were sitting at the end of the terrace walk that evening--the end near +little Charlotte's balcony; it was a mild, still evening--it seemed less +dreary and miserable than in the house; from the distance came the sound +of the children playing in the old streets, and near at hand some birds +were singing still--for children will play and birds will sing whatever +happens. Suddenly a sound close at hand made Mademoiselle Jeanne look +up. And I too, for I was close beside them on the terrace, I looked up +in amazement, half imagining it must be a dream. For we heard--both +Mademoiselle Jeanne and I knew it again--the sound of the window on to +the balcony opening, the window through which the little English girl +used to come out to meet her friends. We looked and could scarcely +believe our eyes. Out on to the balcony stepped a young lady, a young +girl rather she seemed, for she was tall and slight and had fair curls +about her sweet fresh face. She stood for one instant looking at us all +as if bewildered, then, with a sudden cry, almost before we knew what +she was doing, she was over the railings and down the bank. + +"'Mademoiselle Jeanne or Mademoiselle Eliane!' she cried, 'which of you +is it? for it is one of you, I know! And you are _not_ dead--not all +dead and gone--and there is Dudu, too. Oh, how glad, how very glad, I am +that I came!' + +"Laughing and crying both at once, she threw herself into Madame's arms, +while Monsieur looked on in amazement. + +"'You know me?' she cried--'your little English Charlotte. See, here is +the bonbonnière,' feeling for it in her pocket as she spoke. 'And you +are Mademoiselle Jeanne. I know you now--if you had twenty peasant caps +on I should know you. But how thin and pale you are, my poor Jeanne! +And is this your husband? I knew you were married. I saw it in the +newspapers ever so many years ago. Do you know it is fifteen years since +I went away? And I am married, too. But tell me first how it is you are +here and dressed like that, and why you look so sad and Monsieur so ill. +Tell me all. You may trust me, you may indeed, and perhaps my husband +and I may be able to be of some use. You may trust me,' seeing that +Madame and her husband looked at each other in bewilderment; 'may they +not, Dudu?' she added, turning to me. 'Tell Mademoiselle Jeanne that she +can indeed trust me.' + +"I flapped my wings and croaked. + +"'You see,' said Charlotte, and at that they all laughed. + +"'It is not that we do not trust you, my dear friend,' said Madame; 'and +indeed you see all in seeing us here as you do. There is nothing to tell +but the same sad story that has been to tell in so many once happy +French homes. But explain to me, my dear Charlotte, how you are here. It +is so strange, so extraordinary.' + +"And Charlotte explained. Her husband was a sailor. To be near him, she +had been in Spain at the outbreak of the revolution, and had remained +there till he was ordered home. Now that the terror was subsiding, there +was--for them, as foreigners--but little risk. She had persuaded her +husband, whose vessel, owing to some slight accident at sea, had been +obliged to put in at the neighbouring port, to let her come to have a +look at the old town, at the old house, or garden rather, she still +loved so dearly. 'The house we used to live in,' she said, 'was empty. I +easily found my way in, and out on to the balcony, as you saw. I had a +sort of wild idea that perhaps I might see or hear something of you. Yet +I was almost afraid to ask, such terrible things have happened,' added +Charlotte, with a shudder. + +"But nothing more terrible was in store for our young ladies, I am glad +to say," continued Dudu. "The faithful-hearted Charlotte and her husband +were able to be of the greatest service to Mademoiselle Jeanne and _her_ +husband. They conveyed them in safety to the port and saw them on board +a friendly vessel, and not many weeks passed before they were again with +their children and the old Monsieur and Madame and Mademoiselle Eliane +in their home for the time in Switzerland." + +"Oh, how glad I am!" exclaimed Jeanne. "I was dreadfully afraid your +story was going to end badly, Dudu." + +"It is not ended yet," said Dudu. + +"Isn't it?" cried Jeanne. "Oh dear, then go on quick, please. I _hope_ +Mademoiselle Jeanne's poor husband----" + +"Your great-grandfather, you mean," corrected Dudu. + +"Oh, well then, my great-grandfather, _our_ great-grandfather, for he +was Chéri's, too, you said. I do so hope he got better. Did he, Dudu?" + +"Yes," said Dudu, "he got better, but never quite well again. However, +he lived some years, long enough to see his boys grown up and to +return--after the death of our old Monsieur and Madame--to return to his +own country with his wife and sister-in-law. But before very long, while +still far from an old man, he died. Then our young ladies, young no +longer, came back, after a time, to their childish home; and here they +lived together quietly, kind and charitable to all, cheered from time to +time by the visits of Madame's two sons, out in the world now and +married, and with homes of their own. And time went on gently and +uneventfully, and gradually Madame's hair became quite, quite white, and +Mademoiselle Eliane took to limping a little in her walk with the +rheumatism, and when they slowly paced up and down the terrace it was +difficult for me to think they were really my pretty young ladies with +the white dresses and blue ribbons of half a century ago. For it was now +just thirty-five years since the last visit of their English friend. She +too, if she were alive, must be a woman of more than sixty. They had +never heard of her again. In the hurry and anxiety of their last meeting +they had forgotten to ask and she to give her exact address, so they +could not write. She might have written to them to the old house +perhaps, on the chance of it finding them; but if so, they had never got +the letter. Yet they often spoke of her, and never saw the balcony at +the end of the terrace without a kindly thought of those long ago days. + +"One evening--an autumn evening--mild and balmy, the two old ladies were +slowly pacing up and down their favourite walk, when a servant came out +to say that they were wanted--a lady was asking for them. But not to +disturb them, he added, the visitor would be glad to see them in the +garden, if they would allow it. Wondering who it could be, Madame and +her sister were hesitating what to do, when a figure was seen +approaching them from the house. + +"'I could not wait,' she said, almost before she reached them. 'I wished +so much to see you once more in the old spot, dear friends;' and they +knew her at once. They recognised in the bowed and worn but still sweet +and lovely woman, their pretty child-friend of fifty years ago. She had +come to bid them farewell, she said. She was on her way to the +south--not to live but to die, for she had suffered much and her days +were numbered. + +"'My dear husband is dead some years ago,' she said. 'But we were very +happy together, which is a blessed thought. And my children--one after +another they faded. So I am an old woman now and quite alone, and I am +glad to go to them all. My friends wished me to go to the south, for I +have always loved the sunshine, and there my little daughter died, and +perhaps death will there come to me in gentler shape. But on my way, I +wished to say good-bye to you, dear friends of long ago, whom I have +always loved, though we have been so little together.' + +"And then they took each other's hands, gently and quietly, the three +old ladies, and softly kissed each other's withered cheeks, down which a +few tears made their way; the time was past for them for anything but +gentle and chastened feelings. And whispering to their old friend not +good-bye, but 'Au revoir, au revoir in a better country,' my ladies +parted once more with their childish friend. + +"She died a few months later; news of her death was sent them. _They_ +lived to be old--past eighty both of them, when they died within a few +days of each other. But I never hobble up and down the terrace walk +without thinking of them," added Dudu, "and on the whole, my dears, even +if I had my choice, I don't think I should care to live another two or +three hundred years in a world where changes come so quickly." + +Hugh and Jeanne were silent for a moment. Then "Thank you, dear Dudu," +they said together. + +And Dudu cocked his head on one side. "There is Marcelline calling you," +he said, in a matter-of-fact tone. "Run downstairs. Take a look at the +beautiful stars overhead before you go. Good-bye, my dears." + +"Good-night, Dudu, and thank you again," said the children, as they +hastened away. + +They found their way back to the tapestry room without difficulty. They +were standing in the middle of the room, half puzzled as to how they had +got there, when Marcelline appeared. + +"We have been with Dudu," they told her, before she had time to ask them +anything. "He has told us lovely stories--nicer even than fairy +adventures." And Marcelline smiled and seemed pleased, but not at all +surprised. + + * * * * * + +"A strange thing has happened," said Jeanne's father the next day. "I +feel quite distressed about it. Old Dudu the raven has disappeared. He +is nowhere to be found since yesterday afternoon, the gardener tells me. +They have looked for him everywhere in vain. I feel quite sorry--he has +been in the family so long--how long indeed I should be afraid to say, +for my father remembered him as a child." + +The children looked at each other. + +"Dudu has gone!" they said softly. + +"We shall have no more stories," whispered Hugh. + +"Nor fairy adventures," said Jeanne. + +"He may come back again," said Hugh. + +"I think not," said Jeanne, shaking her smooth little black head. "Don't +you remember, Chéri, what he said about not wishing to stay here +longer?" + +"And he said 'good-bye,'" added Hugh sadly. "I fear he will not come +back." + +But if he _ever_ does, children dear, and if you care to hear what he +has to tell, you shall not be forgotten, I promise you. + + + +THE END + + + +_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_. + + + + + +Transcriber's notes: + +Title page, closing single quote added to poetry quotation. + +Page 4, period added to end of sentence. "any worse. Not" + +Page 66, word "to" inserted in "Nibble next to the carriage". + +Page 87, period added: "to row. After a time" + +Page 94, single end-quote changed to double end-quote " ...sing +evermore." + +Page 128, opening quote added to "There now, ..." + +Page 137, opening quote added to "And 'don't care;' ..." + +Page 148, opening single quote added to "'but I would fain ...'" + +Page 158, opening quote added to "'She is so courageous ...'" + +Page 165, double end-quote changed to single end-quote "'Have no fear,' +he replied ..." + +Page 168, '" changed to "' in "'I knew not ...'" + +Page 170, closing quote changed to closing single quote "'Go?' said ..." + +Page 170, extraneous ' removed from "She looked ..." + +Page 180, opening ' added. "'Hateful thing!' she ..." + +Page 189, double quotes changed to single quotes 'The crowd is so +great...prettier than you,' + +Page 230, opening quote added to "And Charlotte explained..." + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tapestry Room, by Mrs. Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TAPESTRY ROOM *** + +***** This file should be named 17175-8.txt or 17175-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/1/7/17175/ + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** + diff --git a/17175-8.zip b/17175-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..90d2668 --- /dev/null +++ b/17175-8.zip diff --git a/17175-h.zip b/17175-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f932343 --- /dev/null +++ b/17175-h.zip diff --git a/17175-h/17175-h.htm b/17175-h/17175-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ba61c70 --- /dev/null +++ b/17175-h/17175-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6176 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Tapestry Room, by Mrs. Molesworth. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + .right {text-align: right;} + .address {margin-left: 30%;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {text-align: center;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tapestry Room, by Mrs. Molesworth + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Tapestry Room + A Child's Romance + +Author: Mrs. Molesworth + +Illustrator: Walter Crane + +Release Date: November 28, 2005 [EBook #17175] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TAPESTRY ROOM *** + + + + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + + + + + +<h1>THE TAPESTRY ROOM</h1> + +<h3>A Child's Romance</h3> + +<h2>By <span class="smcap">Mrs.</span> MOLESWORTH</h2> + +<div class='center'>AUTHOR OF 'CARROTS,' 'CUCKOO CLOCK,' 'GRANDMOTHER DEAR,'<br />'TELL ME A +STORY,' ETC.</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 248px;"><a name="title" id="title"></a> +<img src="images/title.png" width="248" height="200" alt="'DUDU'" title="'DUDU'" /> +<span class="caption">'DUDU'</span> +</div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="What tale did"> +<tr><td align='left'>'What tale did Iseult to the children say,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Under the hollies, that bright winter's <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Original missing closing quote">day?'</ins></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 13em;">M</span><span class="smcap">atthew Arnold</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<div class='center'><br /><br />ILLUSTRATED BY WALTER CRANE<br /><br /><br /></div> + +<div class="center">London<br /> +MACMILLAN AND CO., Limited<br /> +NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY<br /><br /> +1899 +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="300" height="88" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> + +<div class="center">(By Permission.)</div> + +<div class="center"><small>TO</small><br /><br /> +<big>H.R.H. VITTORIO EMANUELE</big><br /><br /> +PRINCE OF NAPLES<br /><br /> +CROWN PRINCE OF ITALY<br /><br /> +ONE OF THE KINDLIEST OF MY YOUNG READERS</div> + + +<div class='address'> +<br /><br /><span class='smallcap'>Maison du Chanoine</span>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>October</i> 1879.</span></div> + + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="300" height="88" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + + + + + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='right'>CHAPTER I.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">page</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mademoiselle Jean</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><br />CHAPTER II.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Prince Chéri</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_20'>20</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><br />CHAPTER III.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">On a Moonlight Night</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_37'>37</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><br />CHAPTER IV.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Forest of the Rainbows</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_56'>56</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><br />CHAPTER V.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Frog-land</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_75'>75</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><br />CHAPTER VI.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Song of the Swan</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_94'>94</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><br />CHAPTER VII.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Wings and Cats</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_114'>114</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><br />CHAPTER VIII.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"The Brown Bull of Norrowa"</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_135'>135</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><br />CHAPTER IX.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Brown Bull</span>—(<i>Continued</i>)</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_158'>158</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><br />CHAPTER X.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The End of the Brown Bull</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_177'>177</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><br />CHAPTER XI.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Dudu's Old Story</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_197'>197</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><br />CHAPTER XII.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Au Revoir</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_218'>218</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="300" height="88" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"Dudu"</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#title'><i>Vignette on Title-Page.</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"Isn't it a Funny Room, Chéri?"</span></td><td align='center'><i>To face Page</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#funny'>25</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">It was Dudu</span></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href='#dudu'>51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Onwards quietly stepped the Little Procession</span></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href='#onwards'>75</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Two Christmas Angels</span></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href='#two'>122</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Story Spinning</span></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href='#story'>141</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Brown Bull of Norrowa</span></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href='#bull'>162</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"Is this a new part of the House?"</span></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href='#new'>201</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="300" height="88" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>MADEMOISELLE JEANNE.</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Maitre Corbeau"> +<tr><td align='left'>"Maitre Corbeau, sur un arbre perché."</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 13em;">L</span><span class="smcap">a Fontaine.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<p>It was so cold. Ah, so very cold! So thought the old raven as he hobbled +up and down the terrace walk at the back of the house—the walk that was +so pleasant in summer, with its pretty view of the lower garden, gay +with the bright, stiffly-arranged flowerbeds, so pleasantly warm and yet +shady with the old trees overhead, where the raven's second cousins, the +rooks, managed their affairs, not without a good deal of chatter about +it, it must be confessed. "Silly creatures," the raven was in the habit +of calling them with contempt—all to himself, of course, for no one +understood the different tones of his croaking, even though he was a +French raven and had received the best of educations. But to-day he was +too depressed in spirit by the cold to think of his relations or their +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>behaviour at all. He just hopped or hobbled—I hardly know which you +would call it—slowly and solemnly up and down the long walk, where the +snow lay so thick that at each hop it came ever so far up his black +claws, which annoyed him very much, I assure you, and made him wish more +than ever that summer was back again.</p> + +<p>Poor old fellow! he was not usually of a discontented disposition; but +to-day, it must be allowed, he was in the right about the cold. It was +<i>very</i> cold.</p> + +<p>Several others beside the raven were thinking so—the three chickens who +lived in a queer little house in one corner of the yard thought so, and +huddled the closer together, as they settled themselves for the night. +For though it was only half-past three in the afternoon, they thought it +was no use sitting up any longer on such a make-believe of a day, when +not the least little ray of sunshine had succeeded in creeping through +the leaden-grey sky. And the tortoise <i>would</i> have thought so too if he +could, but he was too sleepy to think at all, as he "cruddled" himself +into his shell in the corner of the laurel hedge, and dreamt of the nice +hot days that were past.</p> + +<p>And upstairs, inside the old house, somebody else was thinking so too—a +little somebody who seemed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>to be doing her best to make herself, +particularly her nose, colder still, for she was pressing it hard on to +the icy window-pane and staring out on to the deserted, snow-covered +garden, and thinking how cold it was, and wishing it was summer time +again, and fancying how it would feel to be a raven like old "Dudu," all +at once, in the mixed-up, dancing-about way that "thinking" was +generally done in the funny little brain of Mademoiselle Jeanne.</p> + +<p>Inside the room it was getting dark, and the white snow outside seemed +to make it darker.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle Jeanne," said a voice belonging to a servant who just then +opened the door; "Mademoiselle Jeanne, what are you doing at the window? +You will catch cold."</p> + +<p>Jeanne gave a little start when she heard herself spoken to. She had +been all alone in the room for some time, with not a sound about her. +She turned slowly from the window and came near the fire.</p> + +<p>"If I did catch cold, it would not be bad," she said. "I would stay in +bed, and you, Marcelline, would make me nice things to eat, and nobody +would say, 'Don't do that, Mademoiselle.' It would be charming."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> + +<p>Marcelline was Jeanne's old nurse, and she had been her mother's nurse +too. She was really rather old, how old nobody seemed exactly to know, +but Jeanne thought her <i>very</i> old, and asked her once if she had not +been her grandmother's nurse too. Any one else but Marcelline would have +been offended at such a question; but Marcelline was not like any one +else, and she never was offended at anything. She was so old that for +many years no one had seen much difference in her—she had reached a +sort of settled oldness, like an arm-chair which may once have been +covered with bright-coloured silk, but which, with time and wear, has +got to have an all-over-old look which never seems to get any <ins title="Transcriber's Note: period missing in original">worse.</ins> Not +that Marcelline was dull or grey to look at—she was bright and cheery, +and when she had a new clean cap on, all beautifully frilled and crimped +round her face, Jeanne used to tell her that she was beautiful, quite +beautiful, and that if she was <i>very</i> good and always did exactly what +Jeanne asked her, she—Jeanne—would have her to be nurse to her +children when she had grown up to be a lady, married to some very nice +gentleman.</p> + +<p>And when Jeanne chattered like that, Marcelline used to smile; she never +said anything, she just <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>smiled. Sometimes Jeanne liked to see her +smile; sometimes it would make her impatient, and she would say, "Why do +you smile like that, Marcelline? <i>Speak!</i> When I speak I like you to +speak too."</p> + +<p>But all she could get Marcelline to answer would be, "Well, +Mademoiselle, it is very well what you say."</p> + +<p>This evening—or perhaps I should say afternoon, for whatever hour the +chickens' timepiece made it, it was only half-past three by the great +big clock that stood at the end of the long passage by Jeanne's room +door;—this afternoon Jeanne was not quite as lively as she sometimes +was. She sat down on the floor in front of the fire and stared into it. +It was pretty to look at just then, for the wood was burning redly, and +at the tiniest touch a whole bevy of lovely sparks would fly out like +bees from a hive, or a covey of birds, or better still, like a thousand +imprisoned fairies escaping at some magic touch. Of all things, Jeanne +loved to give this magic touch. There was no poker, but she managed just +as well with a stick of unburnt wood, or sometimes, when she was <i>quite</i> +sure Marcelline was not looking, with the toe of her little shoe. Just +now it was Marcelline who set the fairy sparks free by moving the logs a +little and putting on a fresh one behind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How pretty they are, are they not, Marcelline?" said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>Marcelline did not speak, and when Jeanne looked up at her, she saw by +the light of the fire that she was smiling. Jeanne held up her +forefinger.</p> + +<p>"Naughty Marcelline," she said; "you are not to smile. You are to +<i>speak</i>. I want you to speak very much, for it is so dull, and I have +nothing to do. I want you to tell me stories, Marcelline. Do you hear, +you naughty little thing?"</p> + +<p>"And what am I to tell you stories about then, Mademoiselle? You have +got all out of my old head long ago; and when the grain is all ground +what can the miller do?"</p> + +<p>"Get some more, of course," said Jeanne. "Why, <i>I</i> could make stories if +I tried, I daresay, and I am only seven, and you who are a hundred—are +you <i>quite</i> a hundred, Marcelline?"</p> + +<p>Marcelline shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Not <i>quite</i>, Mademoiselle," she said.</p> + +<p>"Well, never mind, you are old enough to make stories, any way. Tell me +more about the country where you lived when you were little as I; the +country you will never tell me the name of. Oh, I do like that one about +the Golden Princess shut up <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>in the castle by the sea! I like stories +about princesses best of all. I do wish I were a princess; next to my +best wish of all, I wish to be a princess. Marcelline, do you hear? I +want you to tell me a story."</p> + +<p>Still Marcelline did not reply. She in her turn was looking into the +fire. Suddenly she spoke.</p> + +<p>"One, two, three," she said. "Quick, now, Mademoiselle, quick, quick. +Wish a wish before that last spark is gone. Quick, Mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, what shall I wish?" exclaimed Jeanne. "When you tell me to be +quick it all goes out of my head; but I know now. I wish——"</p> + +<p>"Hush, Mademoiselle," said Marcelline, quickly again. "You must not say +it aloud. Never mind, it is all right. You have wished it before the +spark is gone. It will come true, Mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>Jeanne's bright dark eyes glanced up at Marcelline with an expression of +mingled curiosity and respect.</p> + +<p>"How do you know it will come true?" she said.</p> + +<p>Marcelline's old eyes, nearly as bright and dark still as Jeanne's own, +had a half-mischievous look in them as she replied, solemnly shaking her +head,</p> + +<p>"I know, Mademoiselle, and that is all I can say.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> And when the time +comes for your wish to be granted, you will see if I am not right."</p> + +<p>"Shall I?" said Jeanne, half impressed, half rebellious. "Do the fairies +tell you things, Marcelline? Not that I believe there are any +fairies—not now, any way."</p> + +<p>"Don't say that, Mademoiselle," said Marcelline. "In that country I have +told you of no one ever said such a thing as that."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't they? Did they really <i>see</i> fairies there?" asked Jeanne, +lowering her voice a little.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Marcelline; but that was all she <i>would</i> say, and Jeanne +couldn't get her to tell her any fairy stories, and had to content +herself with making them for herself instead out of the queer shapes of +the burning wood of the fire.</p> + +<p>She was so busy with these fancies that she did not hear the stopping of +the click-click of Marcelline's knitting needles, nor did she hear the +old nurse get up from her chair and go out of the room. A few minutes +before, the <i>facteur</i> had rung at the great wooden gates of the +courtyard—a rather rare event, for in those days letters came only +twice a week—but this, too, little Jeanne had not heard. She must have +grown drowsy with the quiet and the heat of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>the fire, for she quite +started when the door again opened, and Marcelline's voice told her that +her mother wanted her to go down to the salon, she had something to say +to her.</p> + +<p>"O Marcelline," said Jeanne, rubbing her eyes, "I didn't know you had +gone away. What does mamma want? O Marcelline, I am so sleepy, I would +like to go to bed."</p> + +<p>"To go to bed, Mademoiselle, and not yet five o'clock! Oh no, you will +wake up nicely by the time you get down to the salon."</p> + +<p>"I am so tired, Marcelline," persisted Jeanne. "These winter days it is +so dull. I don't mind in summer, for then I can play in the garden with +Dudu and the tortoise, and all the creatures. But in winter it is so +dull. I would not be tired if I had a little friend to play with me."</p> + +<p>"Keep up your heart, Mademoiselle. Stranger things have happened than +that you should have some one to play with."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Marcelline?" said Jeanne, curiously. "Do you know +something, Marcelline? Tell me, do. Did you know what my wish was?" she +added, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"I know, Mademoiselle, that Madame will be <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>waiting for you in the +salon. We can talk about your wish later; when I am putting you to bed."</p> + +<p>She would say no more, but smoothed Jeanne's soft dark hair, never very +untidy it must be owned, for it was always neatly plaited in two tails +that hung down her back, as was then the fashion for little girls of +Jeanne's age and country, and bade her again not to delay going +downstairs.</p> + +<p>Jeanne set off. In that great rambling old house it was really quite a +journey from her room to her mother's salon. There was the long corridor +to pass, at one end of which were Jeanne's quarters, at the other a room +which had had for her since her babyhood a mingled fascination and awe. +It was hung with tapestry, very old, and in some parts faded, but still +distinct. As Jeanne passed by the door of this room, she noticed that it +was open, and the gleam of the faint moonlight on the snow-covered +garden outside attracted her.</p> + +<p>"I can see the terrace ever so much better from the tapestry room +window," she said to herself. "I wonder what Dudu is doing, poor old +fellow. Oh, how cold he must be! I suppose Grignan is asleep in a hole +in the hedge, and the chickens will be all right any way. I have not +seen Houpet all day."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Houpet" was Jeanne's favourite of the three chickens. He had come by +his name on account of a wonderful tuft of feathers on the top of his +head, which stuck straight up and then waved down again, something like +a little umbrella. No doubt he was a very rare and wonderful chicken, +and if I were clever about chickens I would be able to tell you all his +remarkable points. But that I cannot do. I can only say he was the +queerest-looking creature that ever pecked about a poultry-yard, and how +it came to pass that Jeanne admired him so, I cannot tell you either.</p> + +<p>"Poor Houpet!" she repeated, as she ran across the tapestry room to the +uncurtained window; "I am sure he must have been very sad without me all +day. He has such a loving heart. The others are nice too, but not half +so loving. And Grignan has no heart at all; I suppose tortoises never +have; only he is very comical, which is nearly as nice. As for Dudu, I +really cannot say, he is so stuck up, as if he knew better than any one +else. Ah, there he is, the old fellow! Well, Dudu," she called out, as +if the raven could have heard her so far off and through the closely +shut window; "well, Dudu, how are you to-day, my dear sir? How do you +like the snow and the cold?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dudu calmly continued his promenade up and down the terrace. Jeanne +could clearly distinguish his black shape against the white ground.</p> + +<p>"I am going downstairs to see mamma, Dudu," she went on. "I love mamma +very much, but I wish she wasn't my mother at all, but my sister. I wish +she was turned into a little girl to play with me, and that papa was +turned into a little boy. How funny he would look with his white hair, +wouldn't he, Dudu? Oh, you stupid Dudu, why won't you speak to me? I +wish you would come up here; there's a beautiful castle and garden in +the tapestry, where you would have two peacocks to play with;" for just +at that moment the moon, passing from under a cloud, lighted up one side +of the tapestry, which, as Jeanne said, represented a garden with +various curious occupants. And as the wavering brightness caught the +grotesque figures in turn, it really seemed to the little girl as if +they moved. Half pleased, half startled at the fancy, she clapped her +hands.</p> + +<p>"Dudu, Dudu," she cried, "the peacocks want you to come; they're +beginning to jump about;" and almost as she said the words a loud croak +from the raven sounded in her ears, and turning round, there, to her +amazement, she saw Dudu standing on the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>ledge of the window outside, +his bright eyes shining, his black wings flapping, just as if he would +say,</p> + +<p>"Let me in, Mademoiselle, let me in. Why do you mock me by calling me if +you won't let me in?"</p> + +<p>Completely startled by this time, Jeanne turned and fled.</p> + +<p>"He must be a fairy," she said by herself; "I'll never make fun of Dudu +any more—<i>never</i>. He must be a fairy, or how else could he have got up +from the terrace on to the window-sill all in a minute? And I don't +think a raven fairy would be nice at all; he'd be a sort of an imp, I +expect. I wouldn't mind now if Houpet was a fairy, he's so gentle and +loving; but Dudu would be a sort of ogre fairy, he's so black and +solemn. Oh dear, how he startled me! How did he get up there? I'm very +glad <i>I</i> don't sleep in the tapestry room."</p> + +<p>But when she got down to the brightly-lighted salon her cheeks were so +pale and her eyes so startled-looking that her mother was quite +concerned, and eagerly asked what was the matter.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," said Jeanne at first, after the manner of little girls, and +boys too, when they do not want to be cross-questioned; but after a +while she confessed that she had run into the tapestry room on her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>way +down, and that the moonlight made the figures look as if they were +moving—and—and—that Dudu came and stood on the window-sill and +croaked at her.</p> + +<p>"Dudu stood on the window-sill outside the tapestry room!" repeated her +father; "impossible, my child! Why, Dudu could not by any conceivable +means get up there; you might as well say you saw the tortoise there +too."</p> + +<p>"If I had called him perhaps he <i>would</i> have come too; I believe Dudu +and he are great friends," thought Jeanne to herself, for her mind was +in a queer state of confusion, and she would not have felt very much +astounded at anything. But aloud she only repeated, "I'm sure he was +there, dear papa."</p> + +<p>And to satisfy her, her kind father, though he was not so young as he +had been, and the bad weather made him very rheumatic, mounted upstairs +to the tapestry room, and carefully examined the window inside and out.</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the kind to be seen, my little girl," was his report. +"Master Dudu was hobbling about in the snow on his favourite terrace +walk as usual. I hope the servants give him a little meat in this cold +weather, by the by. I must speak to Eugène about it. What you fancied +was Dudu, my little Jeanne,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> he continued, "must have been a branch of +the ivy blown across the window. In the moonlight, and with the +reflections of the snow, things take queer shapes."</p> + +<p>"But there is no wind, and the ivy doesn't grow so high up, and the ivy +could not have <i>croaked</i>," thought Jeanne to herself again, though she +was far too well brought up a little French girl to contradict her +father by saying so.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps so, dear papa," was all she said.</p> + +<p>But her parents still looked a little uneasy.</p> + +<p>"She cannot be quite well," said her mother. "She must be feverish. I +must tell Marcelline to make her a little tisane when she goes to bed."</p> + +<p>"Ah, bah!" said Jeanne's white-headed papa. "What we were speaking of +will be a much better cure than tisane. She needs companionship of her +own age."</p> + +<p>Jeanne pricked up her ears at this, and glanced at her mother +inquiringly. Instantly there started into her mind Marcelline's prophecy +about her wish.</p> + +<p>"The naughty little Marcelline!" she thought to herself. "She has been +tricking me. I believe she knew something was going to happen. Mamma, my +dear mamma!" she cried, eagerly but respectfully, "have you something to +tell me? Have you had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>letters, mamma, from the country, where the +little cousin lives?"</p> + +<p>Jeanne's mother softly stroked the cheeks, red enough now, of her +excited little daughter.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my child," she replied. "I have had a letter. It was for that I +sent for you—to tell you about it. I have a letter from the grandfather +of Hugh, with whom he has lived since his parents died, and he accepts +my invitation. Hugh is to come to live with us, as his mother would have +wished. His grandfather can spare him, for he has other grandchildren, +and we need him, do we not, my Jeanne? My little girl needs a little +brother—and I loved his mother so much," she added in a lower voice.</p> + +<p>Jeanne could not speak. Her face was glowing with excitement, her breath +came quick and short, almost, it seemed, as if she were going to cry. +"O, mamma!" was all she could say—"O mamma!" but her mother understood +her.</p> + +<p>"And when will he come?" asked Jeanne next.</p> + +<p>"Soon, I hope. In a few days; but it depends on the weather greatly. The +snow has stopped the diligences in several places, they say; but his +grandfather writes that he would like Hugh to come soon, as he himself +has to leave home."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And will he be always with us? Will he do lessons with me, mamma, and +go to the château with us in summer, and always be with us?"</p> + +<p>"I hope so. For a long time at least. And he will do lessons with you at +first—though when he gets big he will need more teachers, of course."</p> + +<p>"He is a year older than I, mamma."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is eight."</p> + +<p>"And, mamma," added Jeanne, after some consideration, "what room will he +have?"</p> + +<p>"The tapestry room," said her mother. "It is the warmest, and Hugh is +rather delicate, and may feel it cold here. And the tapestry room is not +far from yours, my little Jeanne, so you can keep your toys and books +together. There is only one thing I do not quite understand in the +letter," went on Jeanne's mother, turning to her husband as she always +did in any difficulty—he was so much older and wiser than she, she used +to say. "Hugh's grandfather says Hugh has begged leave to bring a pet +with him, and he hopes I will not mind. What can it be? I cannot read +the other word."</p> + +<p>"A little dog probably," said Jeanne's father, putting on his spectacles +as he took the letter from his wife, "a pet—gu—ga—and then comes +another word <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>beginning with 'p.' It almost looks like 'pig,' but it +could not be a pet pig. No, I cannot read it either; we must wait to see +till he comes."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As Marcelline was preparing to put Jeanne to bed that night, the little +girl suddenly put her arms round her nurse's neck, and drew down her old +face till it was on a level with her own.</p> + +<p>"Look in my face, Marcelline," she said. "Now look in my face and +confess. Now, didn't you know that mamma had got a letter to-night and +what it said, and was not that how you knew my wish would come true?"</p> + +<p>Marcelline smiled.</p> + +<p>"That was one way I knew, Mademoiselle," she said.</p> + +<p>"Well, it shows I'm right not to believe in fairies any way. I really +did think at first that the fairies had told you something, but——" +suddenly she stopped as the remembrance of her adventure in the tapestry +room returned to her mind. "Dudu may be a fairy, whether Marcelline has +anything to do with fairies or not," she reflected. It was better +certainly to approach such subjects respectfully. "Marcelline," she +added, after a little silence, "there is only one thing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> I don't like. I +wish the little cousin were not going to sleep in the tapestry room."</p> + +<p>"Not in the tapestry room, Mademoiselle?" exclaimed Marcelline, "why, it +is the best room in the house! You, who are so fond of stories, +Mademoiselle—why there are stories without end on the walls of the +tapestry room; particularly on a moonlight night."</p> + +<p>"<i>Are</i> there?" said Jeanne. "I wonder then if the little cousin will be +able to find them out. If he does he must tell them to me. Are they +fairy stories, Marcelline?"</p> + +<p>But old Marcelline only smiled.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="300" height="88" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>PRINCE CHÉRI.</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="I'll take my guinea-pig"> +<tr><td align='left'>"I'll take my guinea-pig always to church."</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 13em;">C</span><span class="smcap">hild World.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>If it were cold just then in the thick-walled, well-warmed old house, +which was Jeanne's home, you may fancy <i>how</i> cold it was in the rumbling +diligence, which in those days was the only way of travelling in France. +And for a little boy whose experience of long journeys was small, this +one was really rather trying. But Jeanne's cousin Hugh was a very +patient little boy. His life, since his parents' death, had not been a +<i>very</i> happy one, and he had learnt to bear troubles without +complaining. And now that he was on his way to the kind cousins his +mother had so often told him of, the cousins who had been so kind to +<i>her</i>, before she had any home of her own, his heart was so full of +happiness that, even if the journey had been twice as cold and +uncomfortable, he would not have thought himself to be pitied.</p> + +<p>It was a pale little face, however, which looked <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>out of the diligence +window at the different places where it stopped, and a rather timid +voice which asked in the pretty broken French he had not quite forgotten +since the days that his mother taught him her own language, for a little +milk for his "pet." The pet, which had travelled on his knees all the +way from England—comfortably nestled up in hay and cotton wool in its +cage, which looked something like a big mouse-trap—much better off in +its way certainly than its poor little master. But it was a great +comfort to him: the sight of its funny little nose poking out between +the bars of its cage made Hugh feel ever so much less lonely, and when +he had secured a little milk for his guinea-pig he did not seem to mind +half so much about anything for himself.</p> + +<p>Still it was a long and weary journey, and poor Hugh felt very glad when +he was wakened up from the uncomfortable dose, which was all in the way +of sleep he could manage, to be told that at last they had arrived. This +was the town where his friends lived, and a "monsieur," the conductor +added, was inquiring for him—Jeanne's father's valet it was, who had +been sent to meet him and take him safe to the old house, where an eager +little heart was counting the minutes till he came.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<p>They looked at each other curiously when at last they met. Jeanne's eyes +were sparkling and her cheeks burning, and her whole little person in a +flutter of joyful excitement, and yet she couldn't speak. Now that the +little cousin was there, actually standing before her, she could not +speak. How was it? He was not <i>quite</i> what she had expected; he looked +paler and quieter than any boys she had seen, and—was he not glad to +see her?—glad to have come?—she asked herself with a little misgiving. +She looked at him again—his blue eyes were very sweet and gentle, and, +tired though he was, Jeanne could see that he was trying to smile and +look pleased. But he was <i>very</i> tired and very shy. That was all that +was the matter. And his shyness made Jeanne feel shy too.</p> + +<p>"Are you very tired, my cousin?" she said at last.</p> + +<p>"Not very, thank you," said Hugh. "I am rather tired, but I am not very +hungry," he added, glancing at a side-table where a little supper had +been laid out for him. "I am not very hungry, but I think Nibble is. +Might I have a little milk for Nibble, please?"</p> + +<p>As he spoke he held up for Jeanne to see the small box he was carrying, +and she gave a little scream of pleasure when, through the bars, she +caught <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>sight of the guinea-pig's soft nose, poking out, saying as +plainly almost as if he had spoken, "I want my supper; please to see at +once about my supper, little girl."</p> + +<p>"Neeble," cried Jeanne, "O my cousin, is Neeble your pet? Why, he is a +'cochon de Barbarie!' O the dear little fellow! We could not—at least +papa and mamma could not—read what he was. And have you brought him all +the way, my cousin, and do you love him very much? Marcelline, +Marcelline, oh, do give us some milk for the cochon de Barbarie—oh, +see, Marcelline, how sweet he is!"</p> + +<p>Once set free, her tongue ran on so fast that sometimes Hugh had +difficulty to understand her. But the ice was broken any way, and when, +an hour or two later, Jeanne's mother told her she might take Hugh up to +show him his room, the two trotted off, hand-in-hand, as if they had +been close companions for years.</p> + +<p>"I hope you will like your room, chéri," said Jeanne, with a tiny tone +of patronising. "It is not very far from mine, and mamma says we can +keep all our toys and books together in my big cupboard in the passage."</p> + +<p>Hugh looked at Jeanne for a moment without speaking. "What was that name +you called me just now, Jeanne?" he asked, after a little pause.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jeanne thought for a minute.</p> + +<p>"'Mon cousin,' was it that?" she said. "Oh no, I remember, it was +'chéri.' I <i>cannot</i> say your name—I have tried all these days. I cannot +say it better than 'Ee-ou,' which is not pretty."</p> + +<p>She screwed her rosy little mouth into the funniest shape as she tried +to manage "Hugh." Hugh could hardly help laughing.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," he said. "I like 'chéri' ever so much better. I like it +better than 'mon cousin' or any name, because, do you know," he added, +dropping his voice a little, "I remember now, though I had forgotten +till you said it—that was the name mamma called me by."</p> + +<p>"Chéri!" repeated Jeanne, stopping half-way up the staircase to throw +her arms round Hugh's neck at the greatest risk to the equilibrium of +the whole party, including the guinea-pig—"<i>Chéri!</i> I shall always call +you so, then. You shall be my Prince Chéri. Don't you love fairy +stories, mon cousin?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Awfully</i>," said Hugh, from the bottom of his soul.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 259px;"><a name="funny" id="funny"></a> +<img src="images/4.png" width="259" height="400" alt="'ISN'T IT A FUNNY ROOM, CHÉRI?'—p. 25" title="'ISN'T IT A FUNNY ROOM, CHÉRI?'—p. 25" /> +<span class="caption">'ISN'T IT A FUNNY ROOM, CHÉRI?'—<a href='#Page_25'>p. 25</a></span> +</div> + +<p>"I knew you would," said Jeanne triumphantly. "And oh, so do I! +Marcelline says, Chéri, that the tapestry room—that's the room you're +going to have—<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>is full of fairy stories. I wonder if you'll find out +any of them. You must tell me if you do."</p> + +<p>"The tapestry room?" repeated Hugh; "I don't think I ever saw a tapestry +room. Oh," he added, as a sudden recollection struck him, "is it like +what that queen long ago worked about the battles and all that? I mean +all about William the Conqueror."</p> + +<p>"No," said Jeanne, "it's quite different from that work. I've seen that, +so I know. It isn't pretty at all. It's just long strips of linen with +queer-shaped horses and things worked on. Not <i>at all</i> pretty. And I +think the pictures on the walls of your room <i>are</i> pretty. Here it is. +Isn't it a funny room, Chéri?"</p> + +<p>She opened the door of the tapestry room as she spoke, for while +chattering they had mounted the staircase and made their way along the +corridor. Hugh followed his little cousin into the room, and stood +gazing round him with curious surprise and pleasure. The walls were well +lighted up, for Marcelline had carried a lamp upstairs and set it down +on the table, and a bright fire was burning in the wide old-fashioned +hearth.</p> + +<p>"Jeanne," said Hugh, after a minute's silence, "Jeanne, it is very +funny, but, do you know, I am<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> <i>sure</i> I have seen this room before. I +seem to know the pictures on the walls. Oh, <i>how</i> nice they are! I +didn't think that was what tapestry meant. Oh, how glad I am this is to +be my room—is yours like this too, Jeanne?"</p> + +<p>Jeanne shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, Chéri," she said. "My room has a nice paper—roses and things +like that running up and down. I am very glad my room is not like this. +I don't think I should like to see all these funny creatures in the +night. You don't know how queer they look in the moonlight. They quite +frightened me once."</p> + +<p>Hugh opened his blue eyes very wide.</p> + +<p>"<i>Frightened</i> you?" he said. "I should never be frightened at them. They +are so nice and funny. Just look at those peacocks, Jeanne. They are +lovely."</p> + +<p>Jeanne still shook her head.</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," she said. "I can't bear those peacocks. But I'm very +glad <i>you</i> like them, Chéri."</p> + +<p>"I wish it was moonlight to-night," continued Hugh. "I don't think I +should go to sleep at all. I would lie awake watching all the pictures. +I dare say they look rather nice in the firelight too, but still not +<i>so</i> nice as in the moonlight."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, Monsieur," said Marcelline, who had followed the children into the +room. "A moonlight night is the time to see them best. It makes the +colours look quite fresh again. Mademoiselle Jeanne has never looked at +the tapestry properly by moonlight, or she would like it better."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't mind with Chéri," said Jeanne. "You must call me some night +when it's very pretty, Chéri, and we'll look at it together."</p> + +<p>Marcelline smiled and seemed pleased, which was rather funny. Most +nurses would have begun scolding Jeanne for dreaming of such a thing as +running about the house in the middle of the night to admire the +moonlight on tapestry or on anything else. But then Marcelline certainly +was rather a funny person.</p> + +<p>"And the cochon de Barbarie, where is he to sleep, Monsieur?" she said +to Hugh.</p> + +<p>Hugh looked rather distressed.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," he said. "At home he slept in his little house on a sort +of balcony there was outside my window. But there isn't any balcony +here—besides, it's so <i>very</i> cold, and he's quite strange, you know."</p> + +<p>He looked at Marcelline, appealingly.</p> + +<p>"I daresay, while it is so cold, Madame would not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>mind if we put him in +the cupboard in the passage," she said; but Jeanne interrupted her.</p> + +<p>"Oh no," she said. "He would be far better in the chickens' house. It's +nice and warm, I know, and his cage can be in one corner. He wouldn't be +nearly so lonely, and to-morrow I'll tell Houpet and the others that +they must be very kind to him. Houpet always does what I tell him."</p> + +<p>"Who is Houpet?" said Hugh.</p> + +<p>"He's my pet chicken," replied Jeanne. "They're all pets, of course, but +he's the most of a pet of all. He lives in the chicken-house with the +two other little chickens. O Chéri," she added, glancing round, and +seeing that Marcelline had left the room, "do let us run out and peep at +Houpet for a minute. We can go through the tonnelle, and the chickens' +house is close by."</p> + +<p>She darted off as she spoke, and Hugh, nothing loth, his precious Nibble +still in his arms, followed her. They ran down the long corridor, on to +which opened both the tapestry room and Jeanne's room at the other end, +through a small sort of anteroom, and then—for though they were +<i>upstairs</i>, the garden being built in terraces was at this part of the +house on a level with the first floor—then straight out into what +little Jeanne called "the tonnelle."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hugh stood still and gazed about him with delight and astonishment.</p> + +<p>"O Jeanne," he exclaimed, "how pretty it is! oh, how very pretty!"</p> + +<p>Jeanne stopped short in her progress along the tonnelle.</p> + +<p>"What's pretty?" she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Do you mean the +garden with the snow?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, that's pretty too, but I mean the trees. Look up, Jeanne, do."</p> + +<p>There was no moonlight, but the light from the windows streamed out to +where the children stood, and shone upon the beautiful icicles on the +branches above their heads. For the tonnelle was a kind of arbour—a +long covered passage made by trees at each side, whose boughs had been +trained to meet and interlace overhead. And now, with their fairy +tracery of snow and frost, the effect of the numberless little branches +forming a sparkling roof was pretty and fanciful in the extreme. Jeanne +looked up as she was told.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "it's pretty. If it was moonlight it would be prettier +still, for then we could see right along the tonnelle to the end."</p> + +<p>"I don't think that <i>would</i> be prettier," said Hugh;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> "the dark at the +end makes it look so nice—like as if it was a fairy door into some +queer place—a magic cavern, or some place like that."</p> + +<p>"So it does," said Jeanne. "What nice fancies you have, Chéri! But I +wish you could see the tonnelle in summer. It <i>is</i> pretty then, with all +the leaves on. But we must run quick, or else Marcelline will be calling +us before we have got to the chicken-house."</p> + +<p>Off she set again, and Hugh after her, though not so fast, for Jeanne +knew every step of the way, and poor Hugh had never been in the garden +before. It was not very far to go, however—the chickens' house was in a +little courtyard just a few steps from the tonnelle, and guided by +Jeanne's voice in front as much as by the faint glimpses of her figure, +dark against the snow, Hugh soon found himself safe beside her at the +door of the chickens' house. Jeanne felt about till she got hold of the +latch, which she lifted, and was going to push open the door and enter +when Hugh stopped her.</p> + +<p>"Jeanne," he said, "it's <i>quite</i> dark. We can't possibly see the +chickens. Hadn't we better wait till to-morrow, and put Nibble in the +cupboard, as Marcelline said, for to-night?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh no," said Jeanne. "It doesn't matter a bit that it's dark." She +opened the door as she spoke, and gently pulled Hugh in after her. +"Look," she went on, "there is a very, very little light from the +kitchen window after all, when the door is opened. Look, Chéri, up in +that corner sleep Houpet and the others. Put the cochon de Barbarie down +here—so—that will do. He will be quite safe here, and you feel it is +not cold."</p> + +<p>"And are there no rats, or naughty dogs about—nothing like that?" asked +Hugh rather anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Of course not," replied Jeanne. "Do you think I'd leave Houpet here if +there were? I'll call to Houpet now, and tell him to be kind to the +little cochon."</p> + +<p>"But Houpet's asleep, and, besides, how would he know what you say?" +objected Hugh.</p> + +<p>For all answer Jeanne gave a sort of little whistle—half whistle, half +coo it was. "Houpet, Houpet," she called softly, "we've brought a little +cochon de Barbarie to sleep in your house. You must be very kind to +him—do you hear, Houpet dear? and in the morning you must fly down and +peep in at his cage and tell him you're very glad to see him."</p> + +<p>A faint, a very faint little rustle was heard up <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>above in the corner +where Jeanne had tried to persuade her cousin that the chickens were to +be <i>seen</i>, and delighted at this evidence that any way they were to be +<i>heard</i>, she turned to him triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"That's Houpet," she said. "Dear little fellow, he's too sleepy to +crow—he just gives a little wriggle to show that he's heard me. Now put +down the cage, Chéri—oh, you have put it down—and let's run in again. +Your pet will be quite safe, you see, but if we're not quick, Marcelline +will be running out to look for us."</p> + +<p>She felt about for Hugh's hand, and having got it, turned to go. But she +stopped to put her head in again for a moment at the door.</p> + +<p>"Houpet, dear," she said, "don't let Dudu come into your house. If he +tries to, you must fly at him and scold him and peck him."</p> + +<p>"Who is Dudu?" said Hugh, as they were running back to the house +together along the snowy garden path.</p> + +<p>"He is——" began Jeanne. "Hush," she went on, in a lower voice, "there +he is! I do believe he heard what I said, and he's angry." For right +before them on the path stood the old raven, on one leg as usual, though +this it was too dark to see clearly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> And, as Jeanne spoke, he gave a +sharp, sudden croak, which made both the children jump, and then +deliberately hopped away.</p> + +<p>"He's a raven!" said Hugh with surprise. "Why, what funny pets you have, +Jeanne!"</p> + +<p>Jeanne laughed.</p> + +<p>"Dudu isn't my pet," she said. "I don't like him. To tell you the truth, +Chéri, I'm rather frightened of him. I think he's a sort of a fairy."</p> + +<p>Hugh looked much impressed, but not at all surprised.</p> + +<p>"Do you really, Jeanne?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "I do. And I'm not <i>sure</i> but that Grignan is too. At +least I think Grignan is enchanted, and that Dudu is the spiteful fairy +that did it. Grignan is the tortoise, you know."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Hugh, "you told me about him. I do wonder if what you think +is true," he added reflectively. "We must try to find out, Jeanne."</p> + +<p>"But we mustn't offend Dudu," said Jeanne. "He might, you know, turn +<i>us</i> into something—two little mice, perhaps—that wouldn't be very +nice, would it, Chéri?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Hugh replied. "I wouldn't mind for a little, if he would +turn us back again. We <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>could get into such funny places and see such +funny things—couldn't we, Jeanne?"</p> + +<p>They both laughed merrily at the idea, and were still laughing when they +ran against Marcelline at the door which they had left open at the end +of the tonnelle.</p> + +<p>"My children!" she exclaimed. "Monsieur Chéri and Mademoiselle Jeanne! +Where have you been? And in the snow too! Who would have thought it?"</p> + +<p>Her tone was anxious, but not cross. She hurried them in to the warm +fire, however, and carefully examined their feet to make sure that their +shoes and stockings were not wet.</p> + +<p>"Marcelline is very kind," said Hugh, fixing his soft blue eyes on the +old nurse in surprise. "At home, grandmamma's maid would have scolded me +dreadfully if I had run out in the snow."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Jeanne, flinging her arms round the old nurse's neck, and +giving her a kiss first on one cheek then on the other; "she is very +kind. Nice little old Marcelline."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Hugh, meditatively, "she remembers that when she was a +little girl she liked to do things like that herself."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you ever were a little girl, were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>you, Marcelline?" +said Jeanne. "I believe you were always a little old woman like what you +are now."</p> + +<p>Marcelline laughed, but did not speak.</p> + +<p>"Ask Dudu," she said at last. "If he is a fairy, he should know."</p> + +<p>Jeanne pricked up her ears at this.</p> + +<p>"Marcelline," she said solemnly, "I believe you do know something about +Dudu. Oh, <i>do</i> tell us, dear Marcelline."</p> + +<p>But nothing more was to be got out of the old nurse.</p> + +<p>When the children were undressed, Jeanne begged leave to run into Hugh's +room with him to tuck him into bed, and make him feel at home the first +night. There was no lamp in the room, but the firelight danced curiously +on the quaint figures on the walls.</p> + +<p>"You're sure you're not frightened, Chéri?" said little Jeanne in a +motherly way, as she was leaving the room.</p> + +<p>"Frightened! what is there to be frightened at?" said Hugh.</p> + +<p>"The funny figures," said Jeanne. "Those peacocks look just as if they +were going to jump out at you."</p> + +<p>"I think they look very nice," said Hugh. "I am <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>sure I shall have nice +dreams. I shall make the peacocks give a party some night, Jeanne, and +we'll invite Dudu and Grignan, and Houpet and the two little hens, and +Nibble, of course, and we'll make them all tell stories."</p> + +<p>Jeanne clapped her hands.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what fun!" she exclaimed. "And you'll ask me and let me hear the +stories, won't you, Chéri?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Of course</i>," said Hugh. So Jeanne skipped off in the highest spirits.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="300" height="88" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>ON A MOONLIGHT NIGHT.</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="O moon!"> +<tr><td align='left'>"O moon! in the night I have seen you sailing,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And shining so round and low."</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 8em;">C</span><span class="smcap">hild Nature.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>"And what did you dream, Chéri?" inquired Jeanne the next morning in a +confidential and mysterious tone.</p> + +<p>Hugh hesitated.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," he said at last. "At least——" he stopped and hesitated +again.</p> + +<p>The two children were having their "little breakfast," consisting of two +great big cups of nice hot milky coffee and two big slices of bread, +with the sweet fresh butter for which the country where Jeanne's home +was is famed. They were alone in Jeanne's room, and Marcelline had drawn +a little table close to the fire for them, for this morning it seemed +colder than ever; fresh snow had fallen <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>during the night, and out in +the garden nothing was to be seen but smoothly-rounded white mounds of +varying sizes and heights, and up in the sky the dull blue-grey curtain +of snow-cloud made one draw back shivering from the window, feeling as +if the sun had gone off in a sulky fit and would <i>never</i> come back +again.</p> + +<p>But inside, close by the brightly-blazing wood fire, Jeanne and Hugh +found themselves "very well," as the little girl called it, very well +indeed. And the hot coffee was very nice, much nicer, Hugh thought, than +the very weak tea which his grandmother's maid used to give him for +breakfast at home. He stirred it round and round slowly with his spoon, +staring into his cup, while he repeated, in answer to little Jeanne's +question about what he had dreamt, "No, I don't know."</p> + +<p>"But you did dream <i>something</i>," said Jeanne rather impatiently. "Can't +you tell me about it? I thought you were going to have all sorts of +funny things to tell me. You said you would have a party of the peacocks +and all the pets, and make them tell stories."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Hugh slowly. "But I couldn't make them—I must wait till +they come. I think I did dream some funny things last night, but I can't +re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>member. There seemed to be a lot of chattering, and once I thought I +saw the raven standing at the end of the bed, but that time I wasn't +dreaming. I'm sure I wasn't; but I was very sleepy, and I couldn't hear +what he said. He seemed to want me to do something or other, and then he +nodded his head to where the peacocks are, and do you know, Jeanne, I +thought they nodded too. Wasn't that funny? But I daresay it was only +the firelight—the fire had burnt low, and then it bobbed up again all +of a sudden."</p> + +<p>"And what more?" asked Jeanne eagerly. "O Chéri, I think that's +wonderful! Do tell me some more."</p> + +<p>"I don't think I remember any more," said Hugh. "After that I went to +sleep, and then it was all a muddle. There were the chickens and Nibble +and the tortoise all running about, and Dudu seemed to be talking to me +all the time. But it was just a muddle; you know how dreams go +sometimes. And when I woke up the fire was quite out and it was all +dark. And then I saw the light of Marcelline's candle through the hinge +of the door, and she came to tell me it was time to get up."</p> + +<p>"Oh dear," said Jeanne, "I do hope you'll dream some more to-night."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I daresay I shan't dream at all," said Hugh. "Some nights I go to +sleep, and it's morning in one minute. I don't like that much, because +it's nice to wake up and feel how cosy it is in bed."</p> + +<p>"But, Chéri," pursued Jeanne after a few moments' silence, and a few +more bites at her bread and butter, "there's one thing I don't +understand. It's about Dudu. You said it wasn't a dream, you were sure. +Do you think he was really there, at the foot of the bed? It might have +been the firelight that made you think you saw the peacocks nodding, but +it couldn't have been the firelight that made you think you saw Dudu."</p> + +<p>"No," said Hugh, "I can't understand it either. If it was a dream it was +a very queer one, for I never felt more awake in my life. I'll tell you +what, Jeanne, the next time I think I see Dudu like that I'll run and +tell you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, do," said Jeanne, "though I don't know that it would be much good. +Dudu's dreadfully tricky."</p> + +<p>She had not told Hugh of the trick the raven had played her, though why +she had not done so she could hardly have explained. Perhaps she was a +little ashamed of having been so frightened; perhaps she was still a +little afraid of Dudu; and most of all,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> I think, she had a great +curiosity to find out more about the mysterious bird, and thought it +best to leave Hugh to face his own adventures.</p> + +<p>"If Dudu thinks I've told Chéri all about his funny ways," she thought, +"perhaps he'll be angry and not do any more queer things."</p> + +<p>The snow was still, as I said, thick on the ground, thicker, indeed, +than the day before. But the children managed to amuse themselves very +well. Marcelline would not hear of their going out, not even as far as +the chickens' house, but she fetched Nibble to pay them a visit in the +afternoon, and they had great fun with him.</p> + +<p>"He looks very happy, doesn't he, Chéri?" said Jeanne. "I am sure Houpet +has been kind to him. What a pity pets can't speak, isn't it? they could +tell us such nice funny things."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Hugh, "I've often thought that, and I often have thought +Nibble could speak if he liked."</p> + +<p>"<i>Houpet</i> could, I'm quite sure," said Jeanne, "and I believe Dudu and +he do speak to each other. You should just see them sometimes. Why, +there they are!" she added, going close up to the window near which she +had been standing. "Do come here, Chéri, quick, but come very quietly."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hugh came forward and looked out. There were the four birds, making the +quaintest group you could fancy. Houpet with his waving tuft of feathers +was perched on the top rung of a short garden ladder, his two little +hens as usual close beside him. And down below on the path stood the +raven, on one leg of course, his queer black head very much on one side, +as he surveyed the little group above him.</p> + +<p>"Silly young people," he seemed to be saying to himself; but Houpet was +not to be put down so. With a shrill, clear crow he descended from his +perch, stepped close up to Dudu, looked him in the face, and then +quietly marched off, followed by his two companions. The children +watched this little scene with the greatest interest.</p> + +<p>"They <i>do</i> look as if they were talking to each other," said Hugh. "I +wonder what it's about."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it's about the party," said Jeanne; "the party you said you'd +give to the peacocks on the wall, and all the pets."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Hugh. "I am sure there must be beautiful big rooms in +that castle with the lots of steps up to it, where the peacocks stand. +Don't you think it would be nice to get inside that castle and see what +it's like?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, wouldn't it!" said Jeanne, clapping her hands. "How I do wish we +could! You might tell Dudu to take us, Chéri. Perhaps it's a fairy +palace really, though it only looks like a picture, and if Dudu's a +fairy, he might know about it."</p> + +<p>"I'll ask him if I get a chance," said Hugh. "Good morning, Monsieur +Dudu," he went on, bowing politely from the window to the raven, who had +cocked his head in another direction, and seemed now to be looking up at +the two children with the same supercilious stare he had bestowed upon +the cock and hens. "Good morning, Monsieur Dudu; I hope you won't catch +cold with this snowy weather. It's best to be very polite to him, you +see," added Hugh, turning to Jeanne; "for if he took offence we should +get no fun out of him."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," said Jeanne, "it is much best to be very polite to him. Look +at him now, Chéri; <i>doesn't</i> he look as if he knew what we were saying?"</p> + +<p>For Dudu was eyeing them unmistakably by this time, his head more on one +side than ever, and his lame leg stuck out in the air like a +walking-stick.</p> + +<p>"That's <i>just</i> how he stood at the foot of the bed, on the wood part, +you know," said Hugh, in a whisper.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And weren't you frightened, Chéri?" said Jeanne. "I always think Dudu +looks not at all like a good fairy, when he cocks his head on one side +and sticks his claw out like that. I quite believe then that he's a +wicked enchanter. O Chéri," she went on, catching hold of Hugh, "what +<i>should</i> we do if he was to turn us into two little frogs or toads?"</p> + +<p>"We should have to live in the water, and eat nasty little worms and +flies, I suppose," said Hugh gravely.</p> + +<p>"And that sort of thick green stuff that grows at the top of dirty +ponds; fancy having that for soup," said Jeanne pathetically. "O Chéri, +we must indeed be very polite to Dudu, and take <i>great</i> pains not to +offend him; and if he comes to you in the night, you must be sure to +call me at once."</p> + +<p>But the following night and several nights after that went by, and +nothing was heard or seen of Monsieur Dudu. The weather got a little +milder; that is to say, the snow gradually melted away, and the children +were allowed to go out into the garden and visit their pets. Nibble +seemed quite at home in his new quarters, and was now permitted to run +about the chicken-house at his own sweet will; and Jeanne greatly +commended Houpet for his kindness <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>to the little stranger, which +commendation the chicken received in very good part, particularly when +it took the shape of all the tit-bits left on the children's plates.</p> + +<p>"See how tame he is," said Jeanne one day when she had persuaded the +little cock to peck some crumbs out of her hand; "isn't he a darling, +Chéri, with his <i>dear</i> little tuft of feathers on the top of his head?"</p> + +<p>"He's awfully funny-looking," said Hugh, consideringly; "do you really +think he's very pretty, Jeanne?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I do," said Jeanne, indignantly; "all my pets are pretty, but +Houpet's the prettiest of all."</p> + +<p>"He's prettier than Grignan, certainly," said Hugh, giving an amiable +little push to the tortoise, who happened to be lying at his feet; "but +I like Grignan, he's so comical."</p> + +<p>"I think Grignan must know a great deal," said Jeanne, "he's so solemn."</p> + +<p>"So is Dudu," said Hugh. "By the by, Jeanne," he went on, but stopped +suddenly.</p> + +<p>"What?" said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"It just came into my head while we were talking <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>that I must have +dreamt of Dudu again last night; but now I try to remember it, it has +all gone out of my head."</p> + +<p>"<i>What</i> a pity," said Jeanne; "do try to remember. Was it that he came +and stood at the foot of the bed again, like the last time? You promised +to call me if he did."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think he did. I have more a sort of feeling that he and the +peacocks on the wall were whispering to each other—something about +us—you and me, Jeanne—it was, I think."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps they were going to give a party, and were planning about +inviting us," suggested Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Hugh; "it's no good my trying to think. It's just a +sleepy feeling of having heard something. I can't remember anything +else, and the more I think, the less I remember."</p> + +<p>"Well, you must be sure to tell me if you do hear anything more. I was +awake ever so long in the night, ever so long; but I didn't mind, there +was such nice moonlight."</p> + +<p>"Moonlight, was there?" said Hugh; "I didn't know that. I'll try to keep +awake to-night, because Marcelline says the figures on the walls are so +pretty when it's moonlight."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And if Dudu comes, or you see anything funny, you'll promise to call +me?" said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>Hugh nodded his head. There was not much fear of his forgetting his +promise. Jeanne reminded him of it at intervals all that day, and when +the children kissed each other for good-night she whispered again, +"Remember to call me, Chéri."</p> + +<p>Chéri went to sleep with the best possible intentions as to +"remembering." He had, first of all, intended not to go to sleep at all, +for his last glance out of the window before going to bed showed him +Monsieur Dudu on the terrace path, enjoying the moonlight apparently, +but, Hugh strongly suspected, bent on mischief, for his head was very +much on one side and his claw very much stuck out, in the way which +Jeanne declared made him look like a very impish raven indeed.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what Marcelline meant about the moonlight," thought Hugh to +himself as he lay down. "I hardly see the figures on the wall at all. +The moon must be going behind a cloud. I wonder if it will be brighter +in the middle of the night. I don't see that I need stay awake all the +night to see. I can easily wake again. I'll just take a little sleep +first."</p> + +<p>And the little sleep turned out such a long one, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>that when poor Hugh +opened his eyes, lo and behold! it was to-morrow morning—there was +Marcelline standing beside the bed, telling him it was time to get up, +he would be late for his tutor if he did not dress himself at once.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear," exclaimed Hugh, "what a pity! I meant to stay awake all night +to watch the moonlight."</p> + +<p>Marcelline smiled what Jeanne called her funny smile.</p> + +<p>"You would find it very difficult to do that, I think, my little +Monsieur," she said. "However, you did not miss much last night. The +clouds came over so that the moon had no chance. Perhaps it will be +clearer to-night."</p> + +<p>With this hope Hugh had to be satisfied, and to satisfy also his little +cousin, who was at first quite disappointed that he had nothing +wonderful to tell her.</p> + +<p>"To-night," she said, "<i>I</i> shall stay awake all night, and if the +moonlight is very nice and bright I shall come and wake <i>you</i>, you +sleepy Chéri. I do <i>so</i> want to go up those steps and into the castle +where the peacocks are standing at the door."</p> + +<p>"So do I," said Hugh, rather mortified; "but if <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>one goes to sleep, +whose fault is it? I am sure you will go to sleep too, if you try to +keep awake. There's <i>nothing</i> makes people go to sleep so fast as trying +to keep awake."</p> + +<p>"Well, don't try then," said Jeanne, "and see what comes then."</p> + +<p>And when night came, Hugh, partly perhaps because he was particularly +sleepy—the day had been so much finer that the children had had some +splendid runs up and down the long terrace walk in the garden, and the +unusual exercise had made both of them very ready for bed when the time +came—took Jeanne's advice, tucked himself up snugly and went off to +sleep without thinking of the moonlight, or the peacocks, or Dudu, or +anything. He slept so soundly, that when he awoke he thought it was +morning, and brighter morning than had hitherto greeted him since he +came to Jeanne's home.</p> + +<p>"Dear me!" he said to himself, rubbing his eyes, "it must be very late; +it looks just as if summer had come," for the whole room was flooded +with light—such beautiful light—bright and clear, and yet soft. No +wonder that Hugh rubbed his eyes in bewilderment—it was not till he sat +up in bed and looked well about him, quite awake now, that he saw that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>after all it was moonlight, not sunshine, which was illumining the old +tapestry room and everything which it contained in this wonderful way.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how pretty it is!" thought Hugh. "No wonder Marcelline told us that +we should see the tapestry in the moonlight. I never could have thought +it would have looked so pretty. Why, even the peacocks' tails seem to +have got all sorts of new colours."</p> + +<p>He leant forward to examine them better. They were standing—just as +usual—one on each side of the flight of steps leading up to the castle. +But as Hugh gazed at them it certainly seemed to him—could it be his +fancy only?—no, it <i>must</i> be true—that their long tails grew longer +and swept the ground more majestically—then that suddenly—fluff! a +sort of little wind seemed to rustle for an instant, and fluff! again, +the two peacocks had spread their tails, and now stood with them proudly +reared fan-like, at their backs, just like the real living birds that +Hugh had often admired in his grandfather's garden. Hugh was too much +amazed to rub his eyes again—he could do nothing but stare, and stare +he did with all his might, but for a moment or two there was nothing +else to be seen. The pea<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>cocks stood still—so still that Hugh now +began to doubt whether they had not always stood, tails spread, just as +he saw them now, and whether these same tails having ever drooped on the +ground was not altogether his fancy. A good deal puzzled, and a little +disappointed, he was turning away to look at another part of the +pictured walls, when again a slight flutter of movement caught his eyes. +What was about to happen this time?</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 257px;"><a name="dudu" id="dudu"></a> +<img src="images/5.png" width="257" height="400" alt="—"IT WAS DUDU!"—p. 51." title="—"IT WAS DUDU!"—p. 51." /> +<span class="caption">—"IT WAS DUDU!"—<a href='#Page_51'>p. 51</a></span> +</div> + +<p>"Perhaps they are going to furl their tails again," thought Hugh; but +no. One on each side of the castle door, the peacocks solemnly advanced +a few steps, then stood still—quite still—but yet with a certain +waiting look about them as if they were expecting some one or something. +They were not kept waiting long. The door of the castle opened slowly, +very slowly, the peacocks stepped still a little farther forward, and +out of the door of the castle—the castle into which little Jeanne had +so longed to enter—who, what, who <i>do</i> you think came forth? It was +Dudu!</p> + +<p>A small black figure, black from head to foot, head very much cocked on +one side, foot—claw I should say—stuck out like a walking-stick; he +stood between the peacocks, right in Hugh's view, just in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>front of the +door which had closed behind him, at the top of the high flight of +steps. He stood still with an air of great dignity, which seemed to say, +"Here you see me for the first time in my rightful character—monarch of +all I survey." And somehow Hugh felt that this unspoken address was +directed to <i>him</i>. Then, quietly and dignifiedly still, the raven +turned, first to the right, then to the left, and gravely bowed to the +two attendant peacocks, who each in turn saluted him respectfully and +withdrew a little farther back, on which Dudu began a very slow and +imposing progress down the steps. How he succeeded in making it so +imposing was the puzzle, for after all, his descent was undoubtedly a +series of hops, but all the same it was very majestic, and Hugh felt +greatly impressed, and watched him with bated breath.</p> + +<p>"One, two, three, four," said Hugh to himself, half unconsciously +counting each step as the raven advanced, "what a lot of steps! Five, +six, seven," up to twenty-three Hugh counted on. And "what is he going +to do now?" he added, as Dudu, arrived at the foot of the stairs, looked +calmly about him for a minute or two, as if considering his next +movements. Then—how he managed it Hugh could not tell—he suddenly +stepped out of the tapestry landscape, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>and in another moment was +perched in his old place at the foot of Hugh's bed.</p> + +<p>He looked at Hugh for an instant or two, gravely and scrutinisingly, +then bowed politely. Hugh, who was half sitting up in bed, bowed too, +but without speaking. He remembered Jeanne's charges to be very polite +to the raven, and thought it better to take no liberties with him, but +to wait patiently till he heard what Monsieur Dudu had to say. For +somehow it seemed to him a matter of course that the raven <i>could</i> +speak—he was not the very least surprised when at last Dudu cleared his +throat pompously and began—</p> + +<p>"You have been expecting me, have you not?"</p> + +<p>Hugh hesitated.</p> + +<p>"I don't know exactly. I'm not quite sure. Yes, I think I thought +perhaps you'd come. But oh! if you please, Monsieur Dudu," he exclaimed, +suddenly starting up, "do let me go and call Jeanne. I promised her I +would if you came, or if I saw anything funny. Do let me go. I won't be +a minute."</p> + +<p>But the raven cocked his head on one side and looked at Hugh rather +sternly.</p> + +<p>"No," he said. "You cannot go for Jeanne. I do not wish it at present."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hugh felt rather angry. Why should Dudu lay down the law to him in this +way?</p> + +<p>"But I promised," he began.</p> + +<p>"People should not promise what they are not sure of being able to +perform," he said sententiously. "Besides, even if you did go to get +Jeanne, she couldn't come. She is ever so far away."</p> + +<p>"Away!" repeated Hugh in amazement, "away! Little Jeanne gone away. Oh +no, you must be joking Du—, I beg your pardon, Monsieur Dudu."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said Dudu. "She <i>is</i> away, and farther away than you or +she has any notion of, even though if you went into her room you would +see her little rosy face lying on the pillow. <i>She</i> is away."</p> + +<p>Hugh still looked puzzled, though rather less so.</p> + +<p>"You mean that her thinking is away, I suppose," he said. "But I could +wake her."</p> + +<p>Again the raven cocked his head on one side.</p> + +<p>"No," he said. "You must be content to do my way at present. Now, tell +me what it is you want. Why did you wish me to come to see you?"</p> + +<p>"I wanted—at least I thought, and Jeanne said so," began Hugh. "We +thought perhaps you were a fairy, Monsieur Dudu, and that you could take +us into the castle in the tapestry. It looked so bright <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>and real a few +minutes ago," he added, turning to the wall, which was now only faintly +illumined by the moonlight, and looked no different from what Hugh had +often seen it in the daytime. "What has become of the beautiful light, +Monsieur Dudu? And the peacocks? They have shut up their tails +again——"</p> + +<p>"Never mind," said the raven. "So you want to see the castle, do you?" +he added.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Hugh; "but not so much as Jeanne. It was she wanted it most. +She wants dreadfully to see it. <i>I</i> thought," he added, rather timidly, +"<i>I</i> thought we might play at giving a party in the castle, and inviting +Houpet, you know, and Nibble."</p> + +<p>"<i>Only</i>," observed the raven, drily, "there is one little objection to +that. <i>Generally</i>—I may be mistaken, of course, my notions are very +old-fashioned, I daresay—but, <i>generally</i>, people give parties in their +own houses, don't they?"</p> + +<p>And as he spoke he looked straight at Hugh, cocking his head on one side +more than ever.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="300" height="88" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div><h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>THE FOREST OF THE RAINBOWS.</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Rose and amethyst"> +<tr><td align='left'>"Rose and amethyst, gold and grey."</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 10em;">"</span><span class="smcap">Once.</span>"</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>Hugh felt rather offended. It was natural that he should do so, I think. +At least I am sure that in his place I too should have felt hurt. He had +said nothing to make the raven speak in that disagreeably sarcastic way.</p> + +<p>"I wish Jeanne were here," he said to himself; "she would think of +something to put him down a little."</p> + +<p>But aloud he said nothing, so, great was his surprise, when the raven +coolly remarked in answer to his unspoken thoughts,</p> + +<p>"So Jeanne could put me down, you think? I confess, I don't agree with +you. However, never mind about that. We shall be very good friends in +time. And now, how about visiting the castle?"</p> + +<p>"I should like to go," replied Hugh, thinking it wiser, all things +considered, to get over his offended <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>feelings. "I should like to see +the castle very much, though I should have liked Jeanne to be with me; +but still," he went on, reflecting that Jeanne would be extremely +disappointed if he did not make the most of his present opportunity, +such as it was, "if you will be so kind as to show me the way, Monsieur +Dudu, I'd like to go, and then, any way, I can tell Jeanne all about +it."</p> + +<p>"I cannot exactly show you the way," said the raven, "I am only the +guardian on this side. But if you will attend to what I say, you will +get on very well. Here, in the first place, is a pair of wall-climbers +to put on your feet."</p> + +<p>He held out his claw, on the end of which hung, by a narrow ribbon, two +round little cushions about the size of a macaroon biscuit. Hugh took +them, and examined them curiously. They were soft and elastic, what Hugh +in his own words would have described as "blobby." They seemed to be +made of some stuff like indiarubber, and were just the colour of his +skin.</p> + +<p>"What funny things!" said Hugh.</p> + +<p>"They are made after the pattern of the fly's wall-climbers," remarked +the raven. "Put them on—tie them on, that is to say, so that they will +be <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>just in the middle of your foot, underneath of course. That's right; +now jump out of bed and follow me," and before Hugh knew what he was +doing he found himself walking with the greatest ease straight up the +wall to where the long flight of steps to the tapestry castle began. On +the lowest steps the raven stopped a moment.</p> + +<p>"Shall I take them off now?" asked Hugh. "I don't need them to walk up +steps with."</p> + +<p>"Take them off?" said the raven; "oh dear no. When you don't need them +they won't incommode you, and they'll be all ready for the next time. +Besides, though it mayn't seem so to you, these steps are not so easy to +get up as you think. At least they wouldn't be without the +wall-climbers."</p> + +<p><i>With</i> them, however, nothing could have been easier. Hugh found himself +in no time at the top of the flight of steps in front of the door from +which the raven had come out. The peacocks, now he was close to them, +seemed to him larger than ordinary peacocks, but the brilliant colours +of their feathers, which he had noticed in the bright moonlight, had +disappeared. It was light enough for him to distinguish their figures, +but that was all.</p> + +<p>"I must leave you now," said the raven; "but <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>you will get on very well. +Only remember these two things—don't be impatient, and don't take off +your wall-climbers; and if you are very much at a loss about anything, +call me."</p> + +<p>"How shall I call you?" asked Hugh.</p> + +<p>"Whistle softly three times. Now, I think it is time to light up. +Peacocks."</p> + +<p>The peacocks, one on each side of the door, came forward solemnly, +saluting the raven with the greatest respect.</p> + +<p>"Ring," said the raven, and to Hugh's surprise each peacock lifted up a +claw, and taking hold of a bell-rope, of which there were two, one on +each side of the door, pulled them vigorously. No sound ensued, but at +the instant there burst forth the same soft yet brilliant light which +had so delighted Hugh when he first awoke, and which he now discovered +to come not from the moon, still shining in gently at the window of the +tapestry room down below, but from those of the castle at whose door he +was standing. He had never before noticed how many windows it had. +Jeanne and he had only remarked the door at the top of the steps, but +now the light which flowed out from above him was so clear and brilliant +that it seemed as if the whole castle must <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>be transparent. Hugh stood +in eager expectation of what was to happen next, and was on the point of +speaking to the raven, standing, as he thought, beside him, when a +sudden sound made him turn round. It was that of the castle door +opening, and at the same moment the two peacocks, coming forward, pushed +him gently, one at each side, so that Hugh found himself obliged to +enter. He was by no means unwilling to do so, but he gave one last look +round for his conductor. He was gone.</p> + +<p>For about half a second Hugh felt a little frightened and bewildered.</p> + +<p>"I wish Dudu had come with me," he said. But almost before he had time +to think the wish, what he saw before him so absorbed his attention that +he forgot everything else.</p> + +<p>It was a long, long passage, high in the roof, though narrow of course +in comparison with its length, but wide enough for Hugh—for Hugh and +Jeanne hand-in-hand even—to walk along with perfect comfort and great +satisfaction, for oh, it was so prettily lighted up! You have, I +daresay, children, often admired in London or Paris, or some great town, +the rows of gas lamps lighting up at night miles of some very long +street. Fancy those lights <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>infinitely brighter and clearer, and yet +softer than any lamps you ever saw, and each one of a different colour, +from the richest crimson to the softest pale blue, and you will have +some idea how pretty the long corridor before him looked to Hugh. He +stepped along delightedly, as well he might. "Why, this of itself is +worth staying awake ever so many nights to see," he said to himself; +"only I do wish Jeanne were with me."</p> + +<p>Where did the corridor lead to? He ran on and on for some time without +thinking much about this, so interested was he in observing the lamps +and the pretty way in which the tints were arranged; but after a while +he began to find it a little monotonous, especially when he noticed that +at long intervals the colours repeated themselves, the succession of +shades beginning again from time to time.</p> + +<p>"I shall learn them by heart if I go on here much longer," thought Hugh. +"I think I'll sit down a little to rest. Not that I feel tired of +walking, but I may as well sit down a little."</p> + +<p>He did so—on the ground, there was nothing else to sit on—and then a +very queer thing happened. The lamps took to moving instead of him, so +that when he looked up at them the impression was just <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>the same as when +he himself had been running along. The colours succeeded each other in +the same order, and Hugh began to wonder whether his eyes were not +deceiving him in some queer way.</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, I'll run on a little farther," he said to himself, "and if I +don't come to the end of this passage soon, I'll run back again to the +other end. It feels just as if I had got inside a kaleidoscope."</p> + +<p>He hastened on, and was beginning really to think of turning back again +and running the other way, when, all of a sudden—everything in this +queer tapestry world he had got into seemed to happen all of a sudden—a +little bell was heard to ring, clear and silvery, but not very loud, and +in another instant—oh dear!—all the pretty coloured lamps were +extinguished, and poor Hugh was left standing all in the dark. Where he +was he did not know, what to do he did not know; had he not been eight +years old on his last birthday I almost think he would have begun to +cry. He felt, too, all of a sudden so cold, even though before he had +got out of bed he had taken the precaution to put on his red flannel +dressing-gown, and till now had felt quite pleasantly warm. It was only +for half a moment, however, that the idea of crying came over him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm very glad poor little Jeanne isn't here," he said to himself by way +of keeping up his own courage; "she <i>would</i> have been afraid. But as I'm +a boy it doesn't matter. I'll just try to find my way all the same. I +suppose it's some trick of that Dudu's."</p> + +<p>He felt his way along bravely for a few minutes, and more bravely still +was forcing back his tears, when a sound caught his ears. It was a +cock's crow, sharp and shrill, but yet sounding as if outside the place +where he was. Still it greatly encouraged Hugh, who continued to make +his way on in the dark, much pleased to find that the farther he got the +nearer and clearer sounded the crow, repeated every few seconds. And at +last he found himself at the end of the passage—he knew it must be so, +for in front of him the way was barred, and <i>quite</i> close to him now +apparently, sounded the cock's shrill call. He pushed and pulled—for +some time in vain. If there were a door at this end of the passage, as +surely there must be—who would make a passage and hang it so +beautifully with lamps if it were to lead to nowhere?—it was a door of +which the handle was very difficult to find.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear!" exclaimed Hugh, half in despair, "what shall I do?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Kurroo—kurroorulloo," sounded the cock's crow. "Try again," it seemed +to say, encouragingly. And at last Hugh's hand came in contact with a +little round knob, and as he touched it, all at once everything about +him was lighted up again with the same clear, lovely light coming from +the thousands of lamps down the long corridor behind him. But Hugh never +turned to look at them—what he saw in front of him was so delightful +and surprising.</p> + +<p>The door had opened, Hugh found himself standing at the top of two or +three steps, which apparently were the back approach to the strange long +passage which he had entered from the tapestry room. Outside it was +light too, but not with the wonderful bright radiance that had streamed +out from the castle at the other side. Here it was just very soft, very +clear moonlight. There were trees before him—almost it seemed as if he +were standing at the entrance of a forest. But, strange to say, they +were not winter trees, such as he had left behind him in the garden of +Jeanne's house—bare and leafless, or if covered at all, covered only +with their Christmas dress of snow and icicles—these trees were clothed +with the loveliest foliage, fresh and green and feathery, which no +winter's storms or nipping frosts had ever come near <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>to blight. And in +the little space between the door where Hugh stood and these wonderful +trees was drawn up, as if awaiting him, the prettiest, queerest, most +delicious little carriage that ever was seen. It was open; the cushions +with which it was lined were of rose-coloured plush—not velvet, I +think; at least if they <i>were</i> velvet, it was of some marvellous kind +that couldn't he rubbed the wrong way, that felt exquisitely smooth and +soft whichever way you stroked it; the body of the carriage was shaped +something like a cockle-shell; you could lie back in it so beautifully +without cricking or straining your neck or shoulders in the least; and +there was just room for two. One of these two was already comfortably +settled—shall I tell you who it was now, or shall I keep it for a +tit-bit at the end when I have quite finished about the carriage? Yes, +that will be better. For the funniest things about the carriage have to +be told yet. Up on the box, in the coachman's place, you understand, +holding with an air of the utmost importance in one claw a pair of +yellow silk reins, his tufted head surmounted by a gold-laced livery +hat, which, however, must have had a hole in the middle to let the tuft +through, for there it was in all its glory waving over the hat like a +dragoon's plume, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>sat, or stood rather, Houpet; while, standing behind, +holding on each with one claw to the back of the carriage, like real +footmen, were the two other chickens. They, too, had gold-laced hats and +an air of solemn propriety, not <i>quite</i> so majestic as Houpet's, for in +their case the imposing tuft was wanting, but still very fine of its +kind. And who do you think were the horses? for there were two—or, to +speak more correctly, there were no horses at all, but in the place +where they should have been were harnessed, tandem-fashion, not abreast, +Nibble the guinea-pig and Grignan the tortoise! Nibble next <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original does not have word 'to'">to</ins> the +carriage, Grignan, of all creatures in the world, as leader.</p> + +<p>On sight of them Hugh began to laugh, so that he forgot to look more +closely at the person in the carriage, whose face he had not yet seen, +as it was turned the other way. But the sound of his laughing was too +infectious to be resisted—the small figure began to shake all over, and +at last could contain itself no longer. With a shout of merriment little +Jeanne, for it was she, sprang out of the carriage and threw her arms +round Hugh's neck.</p> + +<p>"O Chéri," she said, "I <i>couldn't</i> keep quiet any longer, though I +wanted to hide my face till you had got into the carriage, and then +surprise you. But it <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>was so nice to hear you laugh—I <i>couldn't</i> keep +still."</p> + +<p>Hugh felt too utterly astonished to reply. He just stared at Jeanne as +if he could not believe his own eyes. And Jeanne did not look surprised +at all! That, to Hugh, was the most surprising part of the whole.</p> + +<p>"Jeanne!" he exclaimed, "you here! Why, Dudu told me you were ever so +far away."</p> + +<p>"And so I am," replied Jeanne, laughing again, "and so are you, Chéri. +You have no idea how far away you are—miles, and miles, and miles, only +in this country they don't have milestones. It's all quite different."</p> + +<p>"How do you mean?" asked Hugh. "How do you know all about it? You have +never been here before, have you? I couldn't quite understand Dudu—<i>he</i> +meant, I think, that it was only your thinking part or your fancying +part, that was away."</p> + +<p>Jeanne laughed again, Hugh felt a little impatient.</p> + +<p>"<i>Jeanne</i>," he said, "do leave off laughing and speak to me. What is +this place? and how did you come here? and have you ever been here +before?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Jeanne, "I think so; but I don't know <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>how I came. And I +don't want to do anything but laugh and have fun. Never mind how we +came. It's a beautiful country, any way, and did you <i>ever</i> see anything +so sweet as the little carriage they've sent for us, and wasn't it nice +to see Houpet and all the others?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Hugh, "very. But whom do you mean by 'they,' Jeanne?"</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, dear!" exclaimed Jeanne, "what a terrible boy you are. Do +leave off asking questions, and let us have fun. Look, there are Grignan +and the little cochon quite eager to be off. Now, do jump in—we shall +have such fun."</p> + +<p>Hugh got in, willingly enough, though still he would have preferred to +have some explanation from Jeanne of all the strange things that were +happening.</p> + +<p>"<i>Isn't</i> it nice?" said Jeanne, when they had both nestled down among +the delicious soft cushions of the carriage.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Hugh, "it's very nice <i>now</i>, but it wasn't very nice when I +was all alone in the dark in that long passage. As you seem to know all +about everything, Jeanne, I suppose you know about that."</p> + +<p>He spoke rather, just a very little, grumpily, but Jeanne, rather to his +surprise, did not laugh at him <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>this time. Instead, she looked up in his +face earnestly, with a strange deep look in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"I think very often we have to find our way in the dark," she said +dreamily. "I think I remember about that. But," she went on, with a +complete change of voice, her eyes dancing merrily as if they had never +looked grave in their life, "it's not dark now, Chéri, and it's going to +be ever so bright. Just look at the lovely moon through the trees. Do +let us go now. Gee-up, gee-up, crack your whip, Houpet, and make them +gallop as fast as you can."</p> + +<p>Off they set—they went nice and fast certainly, but not so fast but +that the children could admire the beautiful feathery foliage as they +passed. They drove through the forest—for the trees that Hugh had so +admired were those of a forest—on and on, swiftly but yet smoothly; +never in his life had Hugh felt any motion so delightful.</p> + +<p>"<i>What</i> a good coachman Houpet is!" exclaimed Hugh. "I never should have +thought he could drive so well. How does he know the road, Jeanne?"</p> + +<p>"There isn't any road, so he doesn't need to know it," said Jeanne. +"Look before you, Chéri. You see there is no road. It makes itself as we +go, so we can't go wrong."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hugh looked straight before him. It was as Jeanne had said. The trees +grew thick and close in front, only dividing—melting away like a +mist—as the quaint little carriage approached them.</p> + +<p>Hugh looked at them with fresh surprise.</p> + +<p>"Are they not real trees?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Of course they are," said Jeanne. "Now they're beginning to change; +that shows we are getting to the middle of the forest. Look, look, +Chéri!"</p> + +<p>Hugh "looked" with all his eyes. What Jeanne called "changing" was a +very wonderful process. The trees, which hitherto had been of a very +bright, delicate green, began gradually to pale in colour, becoming +first greenish-yellow, then canary colour, then down to the purest +white. And from white they grew into silver, sparkling like innumerable +diamonds, and then slowly altered into a sort of silver-grey, gradually +rising into grey-blue, then into a more purple-blue, till they reached +the richest corn-flower shade. Then began another series of lessening +shades, which again, passing through a boundary line of gold, rose by +indescribable degrees to deep yet brilliant crimson. It would be +impossible to name all the variations through which they passed. I use +the names of the colours and shades which are familiar <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>to you, +children, but the very naming any shade gives an unfair idea of the +marvellous delicacy with which one tint melted into another,—as well +try to divide and mark off the hues of a dove's breast, or of the sky at +sunset. And all the time the trees themselves were of the same form and +foliage as at first, the leaves—or fronds I feel inclined to call them, +for they were more like very, very delicate ferns or ferny grass than +leaves—with which each branch was luxuriantly clothed, seeming to bathe +themselves in each new colour as the petals of a flower welcome a flood +of brilliant sunshine.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how pretty!" said Hugh, with a deep sigh of pleasure. "It is like +the lamps, only much prettier. I think, Jeanne, this must be the country +of pretty colours."</p> + +<p>"This forest is called the Forest of the Rainbows. I know <i>that</i>," said +Jeanne. "But I don't think they call this the country of pretty colours, +Chéri. You see it is the country of so many pretty things. If we lived +in it always, we should never see the end of the beautiful things there +are. Only——"</p> + +<p>"Only what?" asked Hugh.</p> + +<p>"I don't think it would be a good plan to live in it <i>always</i>. Just +sometimes is best, I think. Either <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>the things wouldn't be so pretty, or +our eyes wouldn't see them so well after a while. But see, Chéri, the +trees are growing common-coloured again, and Houpet is stopping. We must +have got to the end of the Forest of the Rainbows."</p> + +<p>"And where shall we be going to now?" asked Hugh. "Must we get out, do +you think, Jeanne? Oh, listen, I hear the sound of water! Do you hear +it, Jeanne? There must be a river near here. I wish the moonlight was a +little brighter. Now that the trees don't shine, it seems quite dull. +But oh, how plainly I hear the water. Listen, Jeanne, don't you hear it +too?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Jeanne. "It must be——" but before she had time to say more +they suddenly came out of the enchanted forest; in an instant every +trace of the feathery trees had disappeared. Houpet pulled up his +steeds, the two chickens got down from behind, and stood one on each +side of the carriage door, waiting apparently for their master and +mistress to descend. And plainer and nearer than before came the sound +of fast-rushing water.</p> + +<p>"You see we are to get down," said Hugh.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Jeanne again, looking round her a little timidly. "Chéri, do +you know, I feel just a very, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>very little bit frightened. It is such a +queer place, and I don't know what we should do. Don't you think we'd +better ask Houpet to take us back again?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no," said Hugh. "I'm sure we'll be all right. You said you wanted to +have some fun, Jeanne, and you seemed to know all about it. You needn't +be frightened with <i>me</i>, Jeanne."</p> + +<p>"No, of course not," said Jeanne, quite brightly again; "but let us +stand up a minute, Hugh, before we get out of the carriage, and look all +about us. <i>Isn't</i> it a queer place?"</p> + +<p>"It" was a wide, far-stretching plain, over which the moonlight shone +softly. Far or near not a shrub or tree was to be seen, yet it was not +like a desert, for the ground was entirely covered with most beautiful +moss, so fresh and green, even by the moonlight, that it was difficult +to believe the hot sunshine had ever glared upon it. And here and there, +all over this great plain—all over it, at least, as far as the children +could see—rose suddenly from the ground innumerable jets of water, not +so much like fountains as like little waterfalls turned the wrong way; +they rushed upwards with such surprising force and noise, and fell to +the earth again in numberless tiny threads much more gently and softly +than they left it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It seems as if somebody must be shooting them up with a gun, doesn't +it?" said Hugh. "I never saw such queer fountains."</p> + +<p>"Let's go and look at them close," said Jeanne, preparing to get down. +But before she could do so, Houpet gave a shrill, rather peremptory +crow, and Jeanne stopped short in surprise.</p> + +<p>"What do you want, Houpet?" she said.</p> + +<p>By way of reply, Houpet hopped down from his box, and in some +wonderfully clever way of his own, before the children could see what he +was about, had unharnessed Nibble and Grignan. Then the three arranged +themselves in a little procession, and drew up a few steps from the side +of the carriage where still stood the chicken-footmen. Though they could +not speak, there was no mistaking their meaning.</p> + +<p>"They're going to show us the way," said Hugh; and as he spoke he jumped +out of the carriage, and Jeanne after him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 253px;"><a name="onwards" id="onwards"></a> +<img src="images/6.png" width="253" height="400" alt="ONWARDS QUIETLY STEPPED THE LITTLE PROCESSION.—p. 75." title="ONWARDS QUIETLY STEPPED THE LITTLE PROCESSION.—p. 75." /> +<span class="caption">ONWARDS QUIETLY STEPPED THE LITTLE PROCESSION.—<a href='#Page_75'>p. 75</a></span> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="300" height="88" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>FROG-LAND.</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="They have a pretty island"> +<tr><td align='left'>"They have a pretty island,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Whereon at night they rest;</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">They have a sparkling lakelet,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">And float upon its breast."</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">T</span><span class="smcap">he Two Swans.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>Onwards quietly stepped the little procession, Houpet first, his tuft +waving as usual, with a comfortable air of importance and satisfaction; +then Nibble and Grignan abreast—hand-in-hand, I was going to have said; +next Hugh and Jeanne; with the two attendant chickens behind bringing up +the rear.</p> + +<p>"I wonder where they are going to take us to," said Hugh in a low voice. +Somehow the soft light; the strange loneliness of the great plain, +where, now that they were accustomed to it, the rushing of the +numberless water-springs seemed to be but one single, steady sound; the +solemn behaviour of their curious guides, altogether, had subdued the +children's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>spirits. Jeanne said no more about "having fun," yet she did +not seem the least frightened or depressed; she was only quiet and +serious.</p> + +<p>"Where <i>do</i> you think they are going to take us to?" repeated Hugh.</p> + +<p>"I don't know—at least I'm not sure," said Jeanne; "but, Chéri, isn't +it a good thing that Houpet and the others are with us to show us the +way, for though the ground looks so pretty it is quite boggy here and +there. I notice that Houpet never goes quite close to the fountains, and +just when I went the least bit near one a minute ago my feet began to +slip down."</p> + +<p>"I haven't felt it like that at all," said Hugh. "Perhaps it's because +of my wall-climbers. Dudu gave me a pair of wall-climbers like the +flies', you know, Jeanne."</p> + +<p>"Did he?" said Jeanne, not at all surprised, and as if wall-climbers +were no more uncommon than goloshes. "He didn't give me any, but then I +came a different way from you. I think every one comes a different way +to this country, do you know, Chéri?"</p> + +<p>"And very likely Dudu thought I could carry you if there was anywhere +you couldn't climb," said Hugh, importantly. "I'm sure I——" he stopped +abruptly, for a sudden crow from Houpet had brought all the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>party to a +standstill. At first the children could not make out why their guide had +stopped here—there was nothing to be seen. But pressing forward a few +steps to where Houpet stood, Hugh saw, imbedded in the moss at his feet, +a stone with a ring in it, just like those which one reads of in the +<i>Arabian Nights</i>. Houpet stood at the edge of the stone eyeing it +gravely, and somehow he managed to make Hugh understand that he was to +lift it. Nothing loth, but rather doubtful as to whether he would be +strong enough, the boy leant forward to reach the ring, first +whispering, however, to Jeanne,</p> + +<p>"It's getting like a quite real fairy tale, isn't it, Jeanne?"</p> + +<p>Jeanne nodded, but looked rather anxious.</p> + +<p>"I'm <i>afraid</i> you can't lift it, Chéri," she said. "I think I'd better +stand behind and pull <i>you</i>—the ring isn't big enough for us both to +put our hands in it."</p> + +<p>Hugh made no objection to her proposal, so Jeanne put her arms round his +waist, and when he gave a great pug to the ring she gave a great pug to +him. The first time it was no use, the stone did not move in the least.</p> + +<p>"Try again," said Hugh, and try again they did. But no—the second try +succeeded no better than the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>first—and the children looked at each +other in perplexity. Suddenly there was a movement among the animals, +who had all been standing round watching the children's attempts; Jeanne +felt a sort of little pecking tug at her skirts—how it came about I +cannot say, but I think I forgot to tell you that, unlike Hugh in his +red flannel dressing gown, <i>she</i> was arrayed for their adventures in her +best Sunday pelisse, trimmed with fur—and, looking round, lo and +behold! there was Houpet holding on to her with his beak, then came +Nibble, his two front paws embracing Houpet's feathered body, Grignan +behind him again, clutching with his mouth at Nibble's fur, and the two +chickens at the end holding on to Grignan and each other in some +indescribable and marvellous way. It was, for all the world, as if they +were preparing for the finish-up part of the game of "oranges and +lemons," or for that of "fox and geese!"</p> + +<p>The sight was so comical that it was all the children could do to keep +their gravity, they succeeded in doing so, however, fearing that it +might hurt the animals' feelings to seem to make fun of their well-meant +efforts.</p> + +<p>"Not that <i>they</i> can be any use," whispered Hugh, "but it's very +good-natured of them all the same."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am not so sure that they can't be of any use," returned Jeanne. +"Think of how well Houpet drove."</p> + +<p>"Here goes, then," said Hugh. "One, two, <i>three</i>;" and with "three" he +gave a tremendous tug—a much more tremendous tug than was required, +for, to his surprise, the stone yielded at once without the slightest +resistance, and back they all fell, one on the top of the other, Hugh, +Jeanne, Houpet, Nibble, Grignan, and the two chickens! But none of them +were any the worse, and with the greatest eagerness to see what was to +be seen where the stone had been, up jumped Hugh and Jeanne and ran +forward to the spot.</p> + +<p>"There should be," said Jeanne, half out of breath—"there <i>should</i> be a +little staircase for us to go down, if it is like the stories in the +<i>Arabian Nights</i>."</p> + +<p>And, wonderful to relate, so there was! The children could hardly +believe their eyes, when below them they saw the most tempting little +spiral staircase of white stone or marble steps, with a neat little +brass balustrade at one side. It looked quite light all the way down, +though of course they could distinguish nothing at the bottom, as the +corkscrew twists of the staircase entirely filled up the space.</p> + +<p>Houpet hopped forward and stood at the top of the steps crowing softly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He means that we're to go down," said Hugh. "Shall we?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Jeanne. "I'm not a bit afraid. We won't have any fun +if we don't go on."</p> + +<p>"Well then," said Hugh, "I'll go first as I'm a boy, just <i>in case</i>, you +know, Jeanne, of our meeting anything disagreeable."</p> + +<p>So down he went, Jeanne following close after.</p> + +<p>"I suppose Houpet and the others will come after us," said Jeanne, +rather anxiously. But just as she uttered the words a rather shrill crow +made both Hugh and her stop short and look up to the top. They saw +Houpet and the others standing round the edge of the hole. Houpet gave +another crow, in which the two chickens joined him, and then suddenly +the stone was shut down—the two children found themselves alone in this +strange place, leading to they knew not where! Jeanne gave a little +cry—Hugh, too, for a moment was rather startled, but he soon recovered +himself.</p> + +<p>"Jeanne," he said, "it must be all right. I don't think we need be +frightened. See, it is quite light! The light comes up from below—down +there it must be quite bright and cheerful. Give me your hand—if we go +down sideways—so—we can hold each other's hands all the way."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + +<p>So, in a rather queer fashion, they clambered down the long staircase. +By the time they got to its end they were really quite tired of turning +round and round so many times. But now the view before them was so +pleasant that they forgot all their troubles.</p> + +<p>They had found a little door at the foot of the stair, which opened +easily. They passed through it, and there lay before them a beautiful +expanse of water surrounded by hills; the door which had closed behind +them seemed on this side to have been cut out of the turf of the hill, +and was all but invisible. It was light, as Hugh had said, but not with +the light of either sun or moon; a soft radiance was over everything, +but whence it came they could not tell. The hills on each side of the +water, which was more like a calmly flowing river than a lake, prevented +their seeing very far, but close to the shore by which they stood a +little boat was moored—a little boat with seats for two, and one light +pair of oars.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how lovely!" said Jeanne. "It is even nicer than the carriage. Get +in, Hugh, and let us row down the river. The boat must be on purpose for +us."</p> + +<p>They were soon settled in it, and Hugh, though he had only rowed once or +twice before in his life, found it very easy and pleasant, and they went +over the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>water swiftly and smoothly. After a while the hills approached +more nearly, gradually the broad river dwindled to a mere stream, so +narrow and small at last, that even their tiny boat could go no farther. +Hugh was forced to leave off rowing.</p> + +<p>"I suppose we are meant to go on shore here," he said. "The boat won't +go any farther, any way."</p> + +<p>Jeanne was peering forward: just before them the brook, or what still +remained of it, almost disappeared in a narrow little gorge between the +hills.</p> + +<p>"Chéri," said she, "I shouldn't wonder if the stream gets wider again on +the other side of this little narrow place. Don't you think we'd better +try to pull the boat through, and then we might get into it again?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Hugh. "We may try." So out the children got—Jeanne +pulled in front, Hugh pushed behind. It was so very light that there was +no difficulty as to its weight; only the gorge was so narrow that at +last the boat stuck fast.</p> + +<p>"We'd better leave it and clamber through ourselves," said Hugh.</p> + +<p>"But, O Chéri, we can't!" cried Jeanne. "From where I am I can see that +the water gets wider again a little farther on. And the rocks come quite +sharp down to the side. There is nowhere we could clamber <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>on to, and I +dare say the water is very deep. There are lots of little streams +trickling into it from the rocks, and the boat could go quite well if we +could but get it a little farther."</p> + +<p>"But we can't," said Hugh; "it just won't go."</p> + +<p>"Oh dear," said Jeanne, "we'll have to go back. But how should we find +the door in the hillside to go up the stair; or if we did get up, how +should we push away the stone? And even then, there would be the forest +to go through, and perhaps we couldn't find our way among the trees as +Houpet did. O Chéri, what shall we do?"</p> + +<p>Hugh stood still and considered.</p> + +<p>"I think," he said at last, "I think the time's come for whistling."</p> + +<p>And before Jeanne could ask him what he meant, he gave three clear, +short whistles, and then waited to see the effect.</p> + +<p>It was a most unexpected one. Hugh had anticipated nothing else than the +sudden appearance, somehow and somewhere, of Monsieur Dudu himself, as +large as life—possibly, in this queer country of surprises, where they +found themselves, a little larger! When and how he would appear Hugh was +perfectly at a loss to imagine—he might fly down from the sky; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>he +might spring up from the water; he might just suddenly stand before them +without their having any idea how he had come. Hugh laughed to himself +at the thought of Jeanne's astonishment, and after all it was Jeanne who +first drew his attention to what was really happening.</p> + +<p>"Hark, Chéri, hark!" she cried, "what a queer noise! What can it be?"</p> + +<p>Hugh's attention had been so taken up in staring about in every +direction for the raven that he had not noticed the sound which Jeanne +had heard, and which now increased every moment.</p> + +<p>It was a soft, swishy sound—as if innumerable little boats were making +their way through water, or as if innumerable little fairies were +bathing themselves, only every instant it came nearer and nearer, till +at last, on every side of the boat in which the children were still +standing, came creeping up from below lots and lots and <i>lots</i> of small, +bright green frogs, who clambered over the sides and arranged themselves +in lines along the edges in the most methodical and orderly manner. +Jeanne gave a scream of horror, and darted across the boat to where Hugh +was standing.</p> + +<p>"O Chéri," she cried, "why did you whistle?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> It's all that naughty Dudu. +He's going to turn us into frogs too, I do believe, because he thinks I +laughed at him. Oh dear, oh dear, what shall we do?"</p> + +<p>Chéri himself, though not quite so frightened as Jeanne, was not much +pleased with the result of his summons to the raven.</p> + +<p>"It does look like a shabby trick," he said; "but still I do not think +the creatures mean to do us any harm. And I don't feel myself being +turned into a frog yet; do you, Jeanne?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Jeanne, a very little comforted; "I don't know what +it would feel like to be turned into a frog; I've always been a little +girl, and so I can't tell. I feel rather creepy and chilly, but perhaps +it's only with seeing the frogs. What funny red eyes they've got. What +can they be going to do?"</p> + +<p>She forgot her fears in the interest of watching them; Hugh, too, stared +with all his eyes at the frogs, who, arranged in regular lines round the +edge of the boat, began working away industriously at something which, +for a minute or two, the children could not make out. At last Jeanne +called out eagerly,</p> + +<p>"They are throwing over little lines, Chéri—lots <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>and lots of little +lines. There must be frogs down below waiting to catch them."</p> + +<p>So it was; each frog threw over several threads which he seemed to +unwind from his body; these threads were caught by something invisible +down below, and twisted round and round several times, till at last they +became as firm and strong as a fine twine. And when, apparently, the +frogs considered that they had made cables enough, they settled +themselves down, each firmly on his two hind legs, still holding by the +rope with their front ones, and then—in another moment—to the +children's great delight, they felt the boat beginning to move. It moved +on smoothly—almost as smoothly as when on the water—there were no jogs +or tugs, as might have been the case if it had been pulled by two or +three coarse, strong ropes, for all the hundreds of tiny cables pulling +together made one even force.</p> + +<p>"Why, how clever they are!" cried Jeanne. "We go as smoothly as if we +were on wheels. Nice little frogs. I am sure we are very much obliged to +them—aren't we, Chéri?"</p> + +<p>"And to Dudu," observed Hugh.</p> + +<p>Jeanne shrugged her shoulders. She was not over and above sure of Dudu +even now.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + +<p>The boat moved along for some time; the pass between the hills was dark +and gloomy, and though the water got wider, as Jeanne had seen, it would +not for some distance have been possible for the children to <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Period missing in original">row.</ins> After +a time it suddenly grew much lighter; they came out from the narrow pass +and found themselves but a few yards from a sheet of still water with +trees all round it—a sort of mountain lake it seemed, silent and +solitary, and reflecting back from its calm bosom the soft, silvery, +even radiance which since they came out from the door on the hillside +had been the children's only light.</p> + +<p>And in the middle of this lake lay a little island—a perfect nest of +trees, whose long drooping branches hung down into the water.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do let us row on to the island," said Jeanne eagerly, for by this +time the frogs had drawn them to the edge of the lake; there could no +longer be any difficulty in rowing for themselves.</p> + +<p>"First, any way, we must thank the frogs," said Hugh, standing up. He +would have taken off his cap if he had had one on; as it was, he could +only bow politely.</p> + +<p>As he did so, each frog turned round so as to face him, and each gave a +little bob of the head, which, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>though not very graceful, was evidently +meant as an acknowledgment of Hugh's courtesy.</p> + +<p>"They are very polite frogs," whispered Hugh. "Jeanne, do stand up and +bow to them too."</p> + +<p>Jeanne, who all this time had been sitting with her feet tucked up under +her, showed no inclination to move.</p> + +<p>"I don't like to stand up," she said, "for fear the frogs should run up +my legs. But I can thank them just as well sitting down. Frogs," she +added, "frogs, I am very much obliged to you, and I hope you will excuse +my not standing up."</p> + +<p>The frogs bowed again, which was very considerate of them; then suddenly +there seemed a movement among them, those at the end of the boat drew +back a little, and a frog, whom the children had not hitherto specially +observed, came forward and stood in front of the others. He was bigger, +his colour was a brighter green, and his eyes more brilliantly red. He +stood up on his hind legs and bowed politely. Then, after clearing his +throat, of which there was much need, for even with this precaution it +sounded very croaky, he addressed the children.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur and Mademoiselle," he began, "are very welcome to what we have +done for them—the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>small service we have rendered. Monsieur and +Mademoiselle, I and my companions"—"He should say, 'My companions and +I,'" whispered Jeanne—"are well brought up frogs. We know our place in +society. We disapprove of newfangled notions. We are frogs—we desire to +be nothing else, and we are deeply sensible of the honour Monsieur and +Mademoiselle have done us by this visit."</p> + +<p>"He really speaks very nicely," said Jeanne in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"Before Monsieur and Mademoiselle bid us farewell—before they leave our +shores," continued the frog with a wave of his "top legs," as Jeanne +afterwards called them, "we should desire to give them what, without +presumption, I may call a treat. Monsieur and Mademoiselle are, +doubtless, aware that in our humble way we are artists. Our +weakness—our strength I should rather say—is music. Our croaking +concerts are renowned far and wide, and by a most fortunate coincidence +one is about to take place, to celebrate the farewell—the departure to +other regions—of a songster whose family fame for many ages has been +renowned. Monsieur and Mademoiselle, to-night is to be heard for the +first time in this century the 'Song of the Swan.'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The song of the swan," repeated Hugh, rather puzzled; "I didn't know +swans ever sang. I thought it was just an old saying that they sing once +only—when they are dying."</p> + +<p>The frog bowed.</p> + +<p>"Just so," he said; "it is the truth. And, therefore, the extreme +difficulty of assisting at so unique a performance. It is but +seldom—not above half-a-dozen times in the recollection of the oldest +of my venerated cousins, the toads, that such an opportunity has +occurred—and as to whether human ears have <i>ever</i> before been regaled +with what you are about to enjoy, you must allow me, Monsieur and +Mademoiselle, with all deference to your race, for whom naturally we +cherish the highest respect, to express a doubt."</p> + +<p>"It's a little difficult to understand quite what he means, isn't it, +Chéri?" whispered Jeanne. "But, of course, we mustn't say so. It might +hurt his feelings."</p> + +<p>"Yes," agreed Hugh, "it might. But we must say something polite."</p> + +<p>"You say it," said Jeanne. "I really daren't stand up, and it's not so +easy to make a speech sitting down."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Frog, we are very much obliged to you," began Hugh. "Please +tell all the other frogs so too.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> We would like very much to hear the +concert. When does it begin, and where will it be?"</p> + +<p>"All round the lake the performers will be stationed," replied the frog +pompously. "The chief artist occupies the island which you see from +here. If you move forward a little—to about half-way between the shore +and the island—you will, I think, be excellently placed. But first," +seeing that Hugh was preparing to take up the oars, "first, you will +allow us, Monsieur and Mademoiselle, to offer you a little +collation—some slight refreshment after all the fatigues of your +journey to our shores."</p> + +<p>"Oh dear! oh dear!" whispered Jeanne in a terrible fright; "please say +'No, thank you,' Chéri. I <i>know</i> they'll be bringing us that horrid +green stuff for soup."</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much," said Hugh; "you are very kind indeed, Monsieur +Frog, only, really, we're not hungry."</p> + +<p>"A little refreshment—a mere nothing," said the frog, waving his hands +in an elegantly persuasive manner. "Tadpoles"—in a brisk, authoritative +tone—"tadpoles, refreshments for our guests."</p> + +<p>Jeanne shivered, but nevertheless could not help watching with +curiosity. Scores of little tadpoles <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>came hopping up the sides of the +boat, each dozen or so of them carrying among them large water-lily +leaves, on each of which curious and dainty-looking little cakes and +bonbons were arranged. The first that was presented to Jeanne contained +neat little biscuits about the size of a half-crown piece, of a tempting +rich brown colour.</p> + +<p>"Flag-flour cakes," said the frog. "We roast and grind the flour in our +own mills. You will find them good."</p> + +<p>Jeanne took one and found it very good. She would have taken another, +but already a second tray-ful or leaf-ful was before her, with +pinky-looking balls.</p> + +<p>"Those are made from the sugar of water-brambles," remarked the frog, +with a self-satisfied smile. "No doubt you are surprised at the delicacy +and refinement of our tastes. Many human beings are under the deplorable +mistake of supposing we live on slimy water and dirty insects—ha, ha, +ha! whereas our cuisine is astounding in variety and delicacy of +material and flavour. If it were not too late in the season, I wish you +could have tasted our mushroom pâtés and minnows' eggs vols-au-vent."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Hugh, "what we have had is very nice indeed."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I <i>couldn't</i> eat minnows' eggs," whispered Jeanne, looking rather +doubtfully at the succession of leaf trays that continued to appear. She +nibbled away at some of the least extraordinary-looking cakes, which the +frog informed her were made from the pith of rushes roasted and ground +down, and then flavoured with essence of marsh marigold, and found them +nearly as nice as macaroons. Then, having eaten quite as much as they +wanted, the tadpoles handed to each a leaf of the purest water, which +they drank with great satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Hugh, "we're quite ready for the concert. Shall I row out to +the middle of the lake, Monsieur Frog?"</p> + +<p>"Midway between the shore and the island," said the frog; "that will be +the best position;" and, as by this time all the frogs that had been +sitting round the edge of the boat had disappeared, Hugh took the oars +and paddled away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="300" height="88" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>THE SONG OF THE SWAN.</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="If I were on that shore"> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 4em;">"——If I were on that shore,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>I should live there and not die, but sing <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Single quotation mark changed to double">evermore."</ins></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 15em;">J</span><span class="smcap">ean Ingelow</span>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>"About here will do, I should think—eh, Monsieur Frog?" said Hugh, +resting on his oars half-way to the island. But there was no answer. The +frog had disappeared.</p> + +<p>"What a queer way all these creatures behave, don't they, Jeanne?" he +said. "First Dudu, then Houpet and the others. They go off all of a +sudden in the oddest way."</p> + +<p>"I suppose they have to go when we don't need them any more," said +Jeanne. "I daresay they are obliged to."</p> + +<p>"Who obliges them?" said Hugh.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know! The fairies, I suppose," said Jeanne.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Was it the fairies you meant when you kept saying 'they'?" asked Hugh.</p> + +<p>"I don't know—perhaps—it's no use asking me," said Jeanne. "Fairies, +or dream-spirits, or something like that. Never mind who they are if +they give us nice things. I am sure the frogs have been <i>very</i> kind, +haven't they?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; you won't be so afraid of them now, will you, Jeanne?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know. I daresay I shall be, for they're quite different +from <i>our</i> frogs. Ours aren't so bright green, and their eyes aren't +red, and they can't <i>talk</i>. Oh no, our frogs are quite different from +<i>theirs</i>, Chéri," she added with profound conviction.</p> + +<p>"Just like our trees and everything else, I suppose," said Hugh. +"Certainly this is a funny country. But hush, Jeanne! I believe the +concert's going to begin."</p> + +<p>They sat perfectly still to listen, but for a minute or two the sound +which had caught Hugh's attention was not repeated. Everything about +them was silent, except that now and then a soft faint breeze seemed to +flutter across the water, slightly rippling its surface as it passed. +The strange, even light which had shone over all the scene ever since +the children had stepped out at the hillside door had now grown paler: +it <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>was not now bright enough to distinguish more than can be seen by an +autumn twilight. The air was fresh and clear, though not the least cold; +the drooping forms of the low-hanging branches of the island trees gave +the children a melancholy feeling when they glanced in that direction.</p> + +<p>"I don't like this very much," said Jeanne. "It makes me sad, and I +wanted to have fun."</p> + +<p>"It must be sad for the poor swan if it's going to die," said Hugh. "But +I don't mind this sort of sad feeling. I think it's rather nice. Ah! +Jeanne, listen, there it is again. They must be going to begin."</p> + +<p>"It" was a low sort of "call" which seemed to run round the shores of +the lake like a preliminary note, and then completely died away. +Instantly began from all sides the most curious music that Hugh and +Jeanne had ever heard. It was croaking, but croaking in unison and +regular time, and harsh as it was, there was a very strange charm about +it—quite impossible to describe. It sounded pathetic at times, and at +times monotonous, and yet inspiriting, like the beating of a drum; and +the children listened to it with actual enjoyment. It went on for a good +while, and then stopped as suddenly as it had begun; and then again, +after some minutes of perfect silence, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>it recommenced in a low and +regular chant—if such a word can be used for croaking—a steady, +regular croak, croak, as if an immense number of harsh-sounding +instruments were giving forth one note in such precise tune and measure +that the harshness was softened and lost by the union of sound. It grew +lower and lower, seeming almost to be about to die altogether away, +when, from another direction—from the tree-shaded island in the centre +of the lake—rose, low and faint at first, gathering strange strength as +it mounted ever higher and higher, the song of the swan.</p> + +<p>The children listened breathlessly and in perfect silence to the +wonderful notes which fell on their ears—notes which no words of mine +could describe, for in themselves they were words, telling of suffering +and sorrow, of beautiful things and sad things, of strange fantastic +dreams, of sunshine and flowers and summer days, of icy winds from the +snow-clad hills, and days of dreariness and solitude. Each and all came +in their turn; but, at the last, all melted, all grew rather, into one +magnificent song of bliss and triumph, of joyful tenderness and +brilliant hope, too pure and perfect to be imagined but in a dream. And +as the last clear mellow notes fell on the children's ears, a sound of +wings seemed to come with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>them, and gazing ever more intently towards +the island they saw rising upwards the pure white snow-like +bird—upwards and upwards, ever higher, till at last, with the sound of +its own joyous song, it faded and melted into the opal radiance of the +calm sky above.</p> + +<p>For long the children gazed after it—a spot of light seemed to linger +for some time in the sky just where it had disappeared—almost, to their +fancy, as if the white swan was resting there, again to return to earth. +But it was not so. Slowly, like the light of a dying star, the +brightness faded; there was no longer a trace of the swan's radiant +flight; again a soft low breeze, like a farewell sigh, fluttered across +the lake, and the children withdrew their eyes from the sky and looked +at each other.</p> + +<p>"Jeanne!" said Hugh.</p> + +<p>"Chéri!" said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"What was it? Was it not an angel, and not a swan?"</p> + +<p>Jeanne shook her little head in perplexity.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," she said. "It was wonderful. Did you hear all it told, +Chéri?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Hugh. "But no one could ever tell it again, Jeanne. It is a +secret for us."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And for the frogs," added Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"And for the frogs," said Hugh.</p> + +<p>"But," said Jeanne, "I thought the swan was going to die. <i>That</i> was not +dying."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the queer croaking voice of the frog, suddenly reappearing +on the edge of the boat; "yes, my children," he repeated, with a strange +solemnity, "for such as the swan that <i>is</i> dying. And now once more—for +you will never see me again, nor revisit this country—once again, my +children, I bid you farewell."</p> + +<p>He waved his hands in adieu, and hopped away.</p> + +<p>"Chéri," said Jeanne, after a short silence, "I feel rather sad, and a +very little sleepy. Do you think I might lie down a little—it is not +the least cold—and take a tiny sleep? You might go to sleep too, if you +like. I should think there will be time before we row back to the shore, +only I do not know how we shall get the boat through the narrow part if +the frogs have all gone. And no doubt Houpet and the others will be +wondering why we are so long."</p> + +<p>"We can whistle for Dudu again if we need," said Hugh. "He helped us +very well the last time. I too am rather sleepy, Jeanne, but still I +think I had better not go <i>quite</i> asleep. You lie down, and I'll just +paddle on very slowly and softly for a little, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>when you wake up +we'll fix whether we should whistle or not."</p> + +<p>Jeanne seemed to fall asleep in a moment when she lay down. Hugh paddled +on quietly, as he had said, thinking dreamily of the queer things they +had seen and heard in this nameless country inside the tapestry door. He +did not feel troubled as to how they were to get back again; he had +great faith in Dudu, and felt sure it would all come right. But +gradually he too began to feel very sleepy; the dip of the oars and the +sound of little Jeanne's regular breathing seemed to keep time together +in a curious way. And at last the oars slipped from Hugh's hold; he lay +down beside Jeanne, letting the boat drift; he was so <i>very</i> sleepy, he +could keep up no more.</p> + +<p>But after a minute or two when, not <i>quite</i> asleep, he lay listening to +the soft breathing of the little girl, it seemed to him he heard still +the gentle dip of the oars. The more he listened, the more sure he +became that it was so, and at last his curiosity grew so great that it +half overcame his drowsiness. He opened his eyes just enough to look up. +Yes, he was right, the boat was gliding steadily along, the oars were +doing their work, and who do you think were the rowers? Dudu on one +side, Houpet on the other, rowing away <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>as cleverly as if they had never +done anything else in their lives, steadying themselves on one claw, +rowing with the other. Hugh did not feel the least surprised; he smiled +sleepily, and turned over quite satisfied.</p> + +<p>"They'll take us safe back," he said to himself: and that was all he +thought about it.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Chéri, good-night," was the next thing he heard, or +remembered hearing.</p> + +<p>Hugh half sat up and rubbed his eyes.</p> + +<p>Where was he?</p> + +<p>Not in the boat, there was no sound of oars, the light that met his gaze +was not that of the strange country where Jeanne and he had had all +these adventures, it was just clear ordinary moonlight; and as for where +he was, he was lying on the floor of the tapestry room close to the part +of the wall where stood, or hung, the castle with the long flight of +steps, which Jeanne and he had so wished to enter. And from the other +side of the tapestry—from inside the castle, one might almost say—came +the voice he had heard in his sleep, the voice which seemed to have +awakened him.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Chéri," it said, "good-night. I have gone home the other +way."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Jeanne, Jeanne, where are you? Wait!" cried Hugh, starting to his feet. +But there was no reply.</p> + +<p>Hugh looked all round. The room seemed just the same as usual, and if he +had looked out of the window, though this he did not know, he would have +seen the old raven on the terrace marching about, and, in his usual +philosophical way, failing the sunshine, enjoying the moonlight; while +down in the chickens' house, in the corner of the yard, Houpet and his +friends were calmly roosting; fat little Nibble soundly sleeping in his +cage, cuddled up in the hay; poor, placid Grignan reposing in his usual +corner under the laurel bush. All these things Hugh would have seen, and +would no doubt have wondered much at them. But though neither tired nor +cold, he was still sleepy, very sleepy, so, after another stare all +round, he decided that he would defer further inquiry till the morning, +and in the meantime follow the advice of Jeanne's farewell "good-night."</p> + +<p>And "after all," he said to himself, as he climbed up into his +comfortable bed, "after all, bed is very nice, even though that little +carriage was awfully jolly, and the boat almost better. What fun it will +be to talk about it all to-morrow morning with Jeanne."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was rather queer when to-morrow morning came—when he woke to find it +had come, at least; it was rather queer to see everything looking just +the same as on other to-morrow mornings. Hugh had not time to think very +much about it, for it had been Marcelline's knock at the door that had +wakened him, and she told him it was rather later than usual. Hugh, +however, was so eager to see Jeanne and talk over with her their +wonderful adventures that he needed no hurrying. But, to his surprise, +when he got to Jeanne's room, where as usual their "little breakfast" +was prepared for them on the table by the fire, Jeanne was seated on her +low chair, drinking her coffee in her every-day manner, not the least +different from what she always was, not in any particular hurry to see +him, nor, apparently, with anything particular to say.</p> + +<p>"Well, Chéri," she said, merrily, "you are rather late this morning. +Have you slept well?"</p> + +<p>Hugh looked at her; there was no mischief in her face; she simply meant +what she said. In his astonishment, Hugh rubbed his eyes and then stared +at her again.</p> + +<p>"Jeanne," he said, quite bewildered.</p> + +<p>"Well, Chéri," she repeated, "what is the matter?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> How funny you look!" +and in her turn Jeanne seemed surprised.</p> + +<p>Hugh looked round; old Marcelline had left the room.</p> + +<p>"Jeanne," he said, "it is so queer to see you just the same as usual, +with nothing to say about it all."</p> + +<p>"About all what?" said Jeanne, seemingly more and more puzzled.</p> + +<p>"About our adventures—the drive in the carriage, with Houpet as +coachman, and the stair down to the frog's country, and the frogs and +the boat, and the concert, and O Jeanne! the song of the swan."</p> + +<p>Jeanne opened wide her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Chéri!" she said, "you've been dreaming all these funny things."</p> + +<p>Hugh was so hurt and disappointed that he nearly began to cry.</p> + +<p>"O Jeanne," he said, "it is very unkind to say that," and he turned away +quite chilled and perplexed.</p> + +<p>Jeanne ran after him and threw her arms round his neck.</p> + +<p>"Chéri, Chéri," she said, "I didn't mean to vex you, but I <i>don't</i> +understand."</p> + +<p>Hugh looked into her dark eyes with his earnest blue ones.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Jeanne," he said, "don't you remember <i>any</i> of it—don't you remember +the trees changing their colours so prettily?—don't you remember the +frogs' banquet?"</p> + +<p>Jeanne stared at him so earnestly that she quite frowned.</p> + +<p>"I think—I think," she said, and then she stopped. "When you say that +of the trees, I think I did see rainbow colours all turning into each +other. I think, Chéri, part of me was there and part not; can there be +two of me, I wonder? But please, Chéri, don't ask me any more. It +puzzles me so, and then perhaps I may say something to vex you. Let us +play at our day games now, Chéri, and never mind about the other things. +But if you go anywhere else like that, ask the fairies to take me too, +for I always like to be with you, you know, Chéri."</p> + +<p>So they kissed and made friends. But still it seemed very queer to Hugh. +Till now Jeanne had always been eager to talk about the tapestry castle, +and full of fancies about Dudu and Houpet and the rest of the animals, +and anxious to hear Hugh's dreams. Now she seemed perfectly content with +her every-day world, delighted with a new and beautiful china +dinner-service which her godmother had sent her, and absorbed in cooking +all manner of wonderful dishes <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>for a grand dolls' feast, for which she +was sending invitations to all her dolls, young and old, ugly and +pretty, armless, footless, as were some, in the perfection of Parisian +toilettes as were others. For she had, like most only daughters, an +immense collection of dolls, though she was not as fond of them as many +little girls.</p> + +<p>"I thought you didn't much care for dolls. It was one of the things I +liked you for at the first," said Hugh, in a slightly aggrieved tone of +voice. Lessons were over, and the children were busy at the important +business of cooking the feast. Hugh didn't mind the cooking; he had even +submitted to a paper cap which Jeanne had constructed for him on the +model of that of the "chef" downstairs; he found great consolation in +the beating up an egg which Marcelline had got for them as a great +treat, and immense satisfaction in watching the stewing, in one of +Jeanne's toy pans on the nursery fire, of a preparation of squashed +prunes, powdered chocolate, and bread crumbs, which was to represent a +"ragout à la"—I really do not remember what.</p> + +<p>"I thought you didn't care for dolls, Jeanne," Hugh repeated. "It would +be ever so much nicer to have all the animals at our feast. We could put +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>them on chairs all round the table. That <i>would</i> be some fun."</p> + +<p>"They wouldn't sit still one minute," said Jeanne. "How funny you are to +think of such a thing, Chéri! Of course it would be fun if they <i>would</i>, +but fancy Dudu and Grignan helping themselves with knives and forks like +people."</p> + +<p>Jeanne burst out laughing at the idea, and laughed so heartily that Hugh +could not help laughing too. But all the same he said to himself,</p> + +<p>"I'm sure Dudu and the others <i>could</i> sit at the table and behave like +ladies and gentlemen if they chose. How <i>very</i> funny of Jeanne to forget +about all the clever things they did! But it is no use saying any more +to her. It would only make us quarrel. There must be two Jeannes, or +else 'they,' whoever they are, make her forget on purpose."</p> + +<p>And as Hugh, for all his fancifulness, was a good deal of a philosopher, +he made up his mind to amuse himself happily with little Jeanne as she +was. The feast was a great success. The dolls behaved irreproachably, +with which their owner was rather inclined to twit Hugh, when, just at +the end of the banquet, greatly to his satisfaction, a certain +Mademoiselle Zéphyrine, a blonde with flaxen ringlets and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>turquoise +blue eyes, suddenly toppled over, something having no doubt upset her +equilibrium, and fell flat on her nose on the table.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" cried Jeanne, greatly concerned, "my poor Zéphyrine has fainted," +and, rushing forward to her assistance, worse results followed. Mesdames +Lili and Joséphine, two middle-aged ladies somewhat the worse for wear, +overcome by the distressing spectacle, <i>or</i> by the sleeve of Jeanne's +dress as she leant across them, fell off their chairs too—one, like +Zéphyrine, on to the table, the other on to the floor, dragging down +with her the plateful of ragout in front of her, while her friend's +sudden descent upon the table completed the general knockings over and +spillings which Zéphyrine had begun.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear! oh dear!" cried Jeanne; "all the chocolate ragout is spilt, +and the whipped-up egg is mixed with the orange-juice soup. Oh dear! oh +dear! and I thought we should have had the whole feast to eat up +ourselves after the dolls had had enough."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Hugh, "that's what comes of having stupid sticks of dolls at +your feasts. The <i>animals</i> wouldn't have behaved like that."</p> + +<p>But, seeing that poor Jeanne was really in tears <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>at this unfortunate +termination of her entertainment, he left off teasing her, and having +succeeded in rescuing some remains of the good things, they sat down on +the floor together and ate them up very amicably.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I <i>do</i> care much for dolls," said Jeanne meditatively, +when she had munched the last crumbs of the snipped-up almonds, which +were supposed to represent some very marvellous dish. ("I like almonds +terribly—don't you, Chéri?") she added, as a parenthesis. "No, I don't +care for dolls. You are quite right about them; they <i>are</i> stupid, and +you can't make fancies about them, because their faces always have the +same silly look. I don't know what I like playing at best. O +Marcelline!" she exclaimed, as the old nurse just then came into the +room, "O Marcelline! <i>do</i> tell us a story; we are tired of playing."</p> + +<p>"Does Monsieur Chéri, too, wish me tell him a story?" asked Marcelline, +looking curiously at Hugh.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course," said Hugh. "Why do you look at me that funny way, +Marcelline?"</p> + +<p>"Why," said Marcelline, smiling, "I was thinking only that perhaps +Monsieur finds so many stories <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>in the tapestry that he would no longer +care for my stupid little old tales."</p> + +<p>Hugh did not answer. He was wondering to himself what Marcelline really +meant; whether she knew of the wonders concealed behind the tapestry, or +was only teasing him a little in the kind but queer way she sometimes +did.</p> + +<p>"Marcelline," he said suddenly at last, "I don't understand you."</p> + +<p>"Do you understand yourself, my little Monsieur?" said Marcelline. "Do +any of us understand ourselves? all the different selves that each of us +is?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Hugh, "I daresay we don't. It is very puzzling; it's all very +puzzling."</p> + +<p>"In the country where I lived when I was a little girl," began +Marcelline, but Jeanne interrupted her.</p> + +<p>"Have you never been there since, Marcelline?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Marcelline smiled again her funny smile.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, yes," she said; "often, very often. I should not have been +near so happy as I am if I had not often visited that country."</p> + +<p>"Dear me," exclaimed Jeanne, "how very queer! I had no idea of that. You +haven't been there for a great many years any way, Marcelline. I heard +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>mamma telling a lady the other day that she never remembered your going +away, not even for a day—never since she was born."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Marcelline, "but, Mademoiselle, we don't always know what +even those nearest us do. I might have gone to that country without your +mamma knowing. Sometimes we are far away when those beside us think us +close to them."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Hugh, looking up suddenly, "that is true, Marcelline."</p> + +<p>What she said made him remember Dudu's remark about Jeanne the night +before, that she was far, far away, and he began to feel that Marcelline +understood much that she seldom alluded to.</p> + +<p>But Jeanne took it up differently. She jumped on to Marcelline's knee +and pretended to beat her.</p> + +<p>"You naughty little old woman," she said; "you very naughty little old +woman, to say things like that to puzzle me—just what you know I don't +like. Go back to your own country, naughty old Marcelline; go back to +your fairyland, or wherever it was you came from, if you are going to +tease poor little Jeanne so."</p> + +<p>"<i>Tease</i> you, Mademoiselle?" Marcelline repeated.</p> + +<p>"Yes, tease me," insisted Jeanne. "You know I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>hate people to go on +about things I don't understand. Now you're to tell us a story at once, +do you hear, Marcelline?"</p> + +<p>Hugh said nothing, but he looked up in Marcelline's face with his grave +blue eyes, and the old woman smiled again. She seemed as if she was +going to speak, when just then a servant came upstairs to say that +Jeanne's mother wished the children to go downstairs to her for a +little. Jeanne jumped up, delighted to welcome any change.</p> + +<p>"You must keep the story for another day, Marcelline," she said, as she +ran out of the room.</p> + +<p>"I am getting too old to tell stories," said Marcelline, half to +herself, half to Hugh, who was following his cousin more slowly. He +stopped for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Too old?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur Chéri, too old," the nurse replied. "The thoughts do not +come so quickly as they once did, and the words, too, hobble along like +lamesters on crutches."</p> + +<p>"But," said Hugh, half timidly, "it is never—you would never, I mean, +be too old to visit that country, where there are so many stories to be +found?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not," said Marcelline, "but even if I found them, I might not +be able to tell them. Go <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>and look for them for yourself, Monsieur +Chéri; you have not half seen the tapestry castle yet."</p> + +<p>But when Hugh would have asked her more she would not reply, only smiled +and shook her head. So the boy went slowly downstairs after Jeanne, +wondering what old Marcelline could mean, half puzzled and half pleased.</p> + +<p>"Only," he said to himself, "if I get into the castle, Jeanne really +must come with me, especially if it is to hear stories."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="300" height="88" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>WINGS AND CATS.</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="And all their cattish gestures"> +<tr><td align='left'>"And all their cattish gestures plainly spoke</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">They thought the affair they'd come upon no joke."</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 15.5em;">C</span><span class="smcap">harles Lamb.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>Some days went on, and nothing more was said by the children about the +adventures which had so puzzled poor Hugh. After a while he seemed to +lose the wish to talk about them to little Jeanne; or rather, he began +to feel as if he could not, that the words would not come, or that if +they did, they would not tell what he wanted. He thought about the +strange things he had seen very often, but it was as if he had read of +them rather than as if he had seen and heard them, or as if they had +happened to some one else. Whenever he saw Dudu and Houpet and the rest +of the pets, he looked at them at first in a half dreamy way, wondering +if they too were puzzled about it all, or if, being really fairies, they +did not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>find anything to puzzle them! The only person (for, after all, +he could often not prevent himself from looking upon all the animals as +persons)—the only person who he somehow felt sure <i>did</i> understand him, +was Marcelline, and this was a great satisfaction. She said nothing; she +almost never even smiled in what Jeanne called her "funny" way; but +there was just a very tiny little undersound in the tone of her voice +sometimes, a little wee smile in her eyes more than on her lips, that +told Hugh that, fairy or no fairy, old Marcelline knew all about it, and +it pleased him to think so.</p> + +<p>One night when Hugh was warmly tucked up in bed Marcelline came in as +usual before he went to sleep to put out his light.</p> + +<p>"There's been no moonlight for a good while Marcelline, has there?" he +said.</p> + +<p>"No, Monsieur, there has not," said Marcelline.</p> + +<p>"Will it be coming back soon?" asked Hugh.</p> + +<p>"Do you like it so much, my child?" said the old nurse. She had a funny +way of sometimes answering a question by asking another.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Hugh. "At least, of course when I'm fast asleep it doesn't +matter to me if it's moonlight or not. But you know what I like it for, +Marcelline, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>and you said the other day that I hadn't half seen the +tapestry castle, and I want very much to see it, Marcelline, only I'd +like Jeanne to be with me; for I don't think I could tell her well about +the fairy things if she hadn't been with me. She didn't seem to +understand the words, and I don't think I could get the right ones to +tell, do you know, Marcelline?"</p> + +<p>He half sat up in bed, resting his head on his elbow, which was leaning +on the pillow, and looking up in the old woman's face with his earnest +blue eyes. Marcelline shook her head slowly.</p> + +<p>"No," she said, "you're right. The words wouldn't come, and if they did, +it would be no use. You're older than Mademoiselle Jeanne, Monsieur +Hugh, and it's different for her. But it doesn't matter—the days bring +their own pleasures and interests, which the moonlight wouldn't suit. +You wouldn't have cared for a dinner like what you have every day when +you were listening to the song of the swan?"</p> + +<p>"No, certainly not," said Hugh. "I see you do understand, Marcelline, +better than anybody. It must be as I said; there must be two of me, and +two of Jeanne, and two of you, and——"</p> + +<p>"And two of everything," said Marcelline; "and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>the great thing is to +keep each of the twos in its right place."</p> + +<p>She smiled now, right out, and was turning away with the light in her +hand, when Hugh called after her,</p> + +<p>"<i>Will</i> the moonlight nights come again soon, Marcelline? Do tell me. +I'm sure you know."</p> + +<p>"Have a little patience," said the old nurse, "you shall be told. Never +fear."</p> + +<p>And, a little inclined to be <i>im</i>patient, Hugh was nevertheless obliged +to shut his eyes and go to sleep. There was no moonlight <i>that</i> night +any way.</p> + +<p>But not many nights after there came a great surprise.</p> + +<p>Curiously enough Hugh had gone to sleep <i>that</i> night without any thought +of tapestry adventures. He and Jeanne had been very merry indeed; they +had been dressing up, and playing delightful tricks—such as tapping at +the salon door, and on being told to come in, making their appearance +like two very, very old peasants, hobbling along on sticks—Jeanne with +a cap and little knitted shawl of Marcelline's, Hugh with a blouse and +cotton nightcap, so that Jeanne's mother quite jumped at first sight of +the quaint little figures. Then Jeanne dressed up like a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>fairy, and +pretended to turn Hugh into a guinea-pig, and they got Nibble up into +the nursery, and Hugh hid in a cupboard, and tried to make his voice +sound as if it came from Nibble, and the effect of his ventriloquism was +so comical that the children laughed till they actually rolled on the +floor. And they had hardly got over the laughing—though Marcelline did +her best to make them sit still for half an hour or so before going to +bed—when it was time to say good-night and compose themselves to sleep.</p> + +<p>"I shan't be able to go to sleep for ever so long," said Hugh; "I shall +stay awake all the night, I believe."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, you won't," said Marcelline, with a smile, as she went off with +the light.</p> + +<p>And strange to say, hardly had she shut the door when Hugh did fall +asleep—soundly asleep. He knew no more about who he was, or where he +was, or anything—he just slept as soundly as a little top, without +dreaming or starting in the least, for—dear me, I don't know for how +long!—any way it must have been for several hours, when—in the strange +sudden way in which once or twice before it had happened to him to awake +in this curious tapestry room, he opened his eyes as if startled by an +electric <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>shock, and gazed out before him, as much awake as if he had +never been asleep in his life.</p> + +<p>What had awakened him, and what did he see? He could hardly have told +what had awakened him but for what he <i>now</i> saw and heard. A voice, a +very well-known little voice, was speaking to him. "Chéri dear," it +said, "Chéri, I have come for you. And see what I have got for you." And +there before him stood little Jeanne—but Jeanne as he had never seen +her before. She seemed all glistening and shining—her dress was of some +kind of sparkling white, and round her waist was a lovely silver +girdle—her sleeves too were looped up with silver bands, and, prettiest +of all, two snow-white wings were fastened to her shoulders. She looked +like a fairy queen, or like a silvery bird turned into a little girl. +And in her hand she held another pair of wings exactly like her own.</p> + +<p>Hugh gazed at her.</p> + +<p>"Have you been dressing up?" he said, "and in the middle of the night? +oh how funny! But O, Jeanne, how pretty you look!"</p> + +<p>Jeanne laughed merrily. "Come, get up quick, then," she said, "and I'll +make you pretty too. Only I can't promise you a head-dress like mine, +Chéri."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> + +<p>She gave her head a little toss, which made Hugh look at it. And now he +noticed that on it she wore something very funny indeed, which at first, +being black—for Jeanne's hair, you know, was black too—had not caught +his attention. At first he thought it was some kind of black silk hood +or cap, such as he had seen worn by some of the peasants in Switzerland, +but looking again—no, it was nothing of the kind—the head-dress had a +head of its own, and as Hugh stared, it cocked it pertly on one side in +a way Hugh would have known again anywhere. Yes, it was Dudu, sitting on +Jeanne's smooth little head as comfortably as if he had always been +intended to serve the purpose of a bonnet.</p> + +<p>"Dudu!" exclaimed Hugh.</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Jeanne. "You didn't suppose we could have gone without +him, Chéri."</p> + +<p>"Gone where?" said Hugh, quite sitting up in bed by this time, but still +a good deal puzzled.</p> + +<p>"Up into the tapestry castle," said Jeanne, "where we've been wishing so +to go, though we had to wait for the moonlight, you know."</p> + +<p>The word made Hugh glance towards the window, for, for the first time he +began to wonder how it was his room was so bright. Yes, it was streaming +in, in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>a beautiful flood, and the tapestry on the walls had taken again +the lovely tints which by daylight were no longer visible.</p> + +<p>Hugh sprang out of bed. "Are these for me?" he said, touching the wings +which Jeanne held.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," she replied. "Aren't they pretty? Much nicer than your +wall-climbers, Chéri. I chose them. Turn round and let me put them on."</p> + +<p>She slipped them over his head—they seemed to be fastened to a band, +and in a moment they had fitted themselves perfectly into their place. +They were so light that Hugh was hardly conscious of them, and yet he +could move them about—backwards and forwards, swiftly or slowly, just +as he chose—and as easily as he could move his arms. Hugh was extremely +pleased with them, but he looked at his little night-gown with sudden +dismay.</p> + +<p>"You said you'd make me look pretty too, Jeanne," he observed. "I don't +care for myself—boys never care about being grandly dressed—but I +shall look rather funny beside you, shan't I?"</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," said Jeanne, "you're not ready yet. I'm going to powder +you. Shut your eyes."</p> + +<p>He did so, and therefore could not see what Jeanne did, but he felt a +sort of soft puff fly all over <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>him, and opening his eyes again at +Jeanne's bidding, saw, to his amazement, that he too was now dressed in +the same pretty shiny stuff as his little cousin. They looked just like +two Christmas angels on the top of a frosted Twelfth Night cake.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 257px;"><a name="two" id="two"></a> +<img src="images/front.png" width="257" height="400" alt="TWO CHRISTMAS ANGELS.—p. 122." title="TWO CHRISTMAS ANGELS.—p. 122." /> +<span class="caption">TWO CHRISTMAS ANGELS.—<a href='#Page_122'>p. 122</a></span> +</div> +<p><ins title="Transcriber's Note: Opening quotation mark added">"There</ins> now," said Jeanne, "aren't you pleased? You don't know how nice +you look. Now, Dudu we're quite ready. Are we to fly up to the castle?"</p> + +<p>Dudu nodded his wise head. Jeanne took Hugh's hand, and without Hugh's +quite knowing how it was managed, they all flew up the wall together, +and found themselves standing on the castle terrace. There was no light +streaming out from the windows this time, and the peacocks were quite +motionless at their post.</p> + +<p>"Are they asleep?" said Hugh.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Dudu, speaking for the first time. "They lead a +monotonous life, you see. But there is no occasion to disturb them."</p> + +<p>They were standing just in front of the door, by which, the last time, +Hugh had entered the long lighted-up passage. As they stood waiting, the +door slowly opened, but to Hugh's great surprise the inside was +perfectly different. A very large white-painted hall was revealed to +them. The ceiling was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>arched, and looking up, it seemed so very high, +that it gave one more the feeling of being the sky than the roof of a +house. This great hall was perfectly empty, but yet it did not feel +chilly, and a faint pleasant perfume stole through it, as if not far off +sweet-scented flowers and plants were growing.</p> + +<p>Hugh and Jeanne stood hand-in-hand and looked around them. The door by +which they had entered had closed noiselessly, and when they turned to +see the way by which they had come in, no sign of a door was there. In +the panels of white wood which formed the walls, it was somehow +concealed.</p> + +<p>"How shall we ever get out again?" said Hugh.</p> + +<p>But Jeanne only laughed.</p> + +<p>"We needn't trouble about that," she said. "We got back all right the +last time. What I want to know is what are we to do next? I see no way +out of this hall, and though it's rather nice, it's not very amusing. +Dudu, I wish you would sit still—you keep giving little juggles on my +head that are very uncomfortable, and make me feel as if I had a hat on +that was always tumbling off."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, Mademoiselle Jeanne," replied Dudu with great +dignity. "You really do say such foolish things sometimes that it is +impossible to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>restrain one's feelings altogether. No way out of this +hall, do you say, when it is the entrance to everywhere?"</p> + +<p>"But how are we to get to everywhere, or anywhere?" asked Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"Really!" said Dudu, as if quite out of patience. "When you are running +up and down the terrace, in your other life, you don't stand still at +one end and say, 'Dudu, how am I to get to the other?' You move your +feet, which were given you for the purpose. And in present +circumstances, instead of your feet, you naturally——"</p> + +<p>"Move our wings," cried Jeanne. "Oh, of course. We're to fly. But you +see, Dudu, we're accustomed to having feet, and to running and walking +with them, but having wings is something new."</p> + +<p>Dudu still looked rather contemptuous, and Hugh gave a little pull to +Jeanne's hand.</p> + +<p>"Let's set off," he said.</p> + +<p>"But where are we to go to?" asked Jeanne.</p> + +<p>Dudu gave a little croak. "Really," he said again. "What am I here for?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, to show us the way, of course," said Jeanne. "You're going to steer +us, I suppose, on the top of my head. Well, we're quite ready."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + +<p>Off they set. The flying this time was really quite a pleasure in +itself, and the higher up they rose the easier and swifter it seemed to +become. The hall was lighted from the roof—at least the light seemed to +come down from among the arches so high up that their form was only +vaguely seen. But whether it was daylight or what, the children did not +know, and perhaps it did not occur to them to think. They just flew +softly on, till suddenly Dudu veered to one side and stopped them in +front of a low carved door with a step before it just large enough for +them to stand on. They had not noticed this door before—the hall was so +very large and the door in comparison so small, and the step before it +had looked just like a little jutting-out ledge in the carving, till +they were close to it.</p> + +<p>"Don't turn round," said Dudu, "for fear it should make you giddy. Push +the door and go in at once."</p> + +<p>The children did so. The door yielded, and then immediately—they were +such well-behaved doors in the tapestry palace—closed behind them. And +what the children now saw was a small winding stair, the lowest steps of +which were close to their feet.</p> + +<p>"Here," said Dudu, "I will leave you. You can't go wrong."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> + +<p>He flew down from Jeanne's head as he spoke. Jeanne gave her head a +little shake; she seemed not altogether sorry to be freed from her +head-dress, for a head-dress with <i>feelings</i> is a somewhat uncomfortable +affair.</p> + +<p>"I don't mind you getting off my head, Dudu," she said. "But you might +take a turn on Chéri's for a change. I think it's rather shabby of you +to leave us already."</p> + +<p>Hugh looked at Jeanne in surprise. He could not understand how it was +that Jeanne ventured to speak so coolly to the raven—she who in their +daylight life was so frightened of him that she would hardly go near him +for fear he should turn her into a mouse, or in some other way bewitch +her!</p> + +<p>"I think it's very good-natured of Monsieur Dudu to have come with us so +far," he said. "We could never have got into the tapestry castle at all +but for him."</p> + +<p>"No," said Dudu, "that you certainly wouldn't." But he didn't seem +offended. "Good-bye," he said, "and if you're in any trouble remember +the former arrangement. Whistle three times."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," said Hugh and Jeanne. But as they said it, their looks met +each other in astonishment—<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>there was no Dudu there—he had already +disappeared.</p> + +<p>"What a queer way he has of going off all of a sudden," said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"And what are we to do now?" said Hugh.</p> + +<p>"Go up the stairs, of course, till we find where they lead to," said +Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"It will be rather awkward with our wings," said Hugh. "The stair is so +very narrow and twisting."</p> + +<p>Jeanne made an exclamation.</p> + +<p>"Wings!" she said. "Why, Chéri, your wings are gone!"</p> + +<p>"And so are yours!" said Hugh.</p> + +<p>Both the children stared at each other and turned round to look at their +shoulders, as if they could hardly believe it.</p> + +<p>"It's too bad," said Jeanne. "It's all Dudu."</p> + +<p>"Never mind," said Hugh. "He wouldn't have taken them away if we had +been going to need them again; and really, Jeanne, the more I think of +it the more sure I am we could never have got up that stair with our +wings on."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not," said Jeanne. "Any way <i>I</i> couldn't have got up it with +Dudu on my head. But let's go on, Chéri. Are you frightened? I'm not a +bit."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm not, either," said Hugh. "Still, it's a very queer place. I wish +Dudu, or Houpet, or some of them, had come with us!"</p> + +<p>They set off on their climb up the steep spiral staircase. So narrow it +was, that going hand-in-hand was out of the question.</p> + +<p>"It's worse than the staircase down to the frogs' country," said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>Hugh looked at her triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"There now, Jeanne, you <i>do</i> remember," he said. "I believe it was just +pretence your saying you thought I had dreamt it all."</p> + +<p>"No," said Jeanne, "it wasn't. You don't understand, Chéri. I'm +moonlight Jeanne, now—when we were having the dolls' feast I was +daylight Jeanne. And you know it's never moonlight in the day-time."</p> + +<p>"Well, certainly, I <i>don't</i> understand," said Hugh. "And one thing +particularly—how is it that in the moon-time you remember about the +day-time, if in the day you forget all about the other."</p> + +<p>"I don't exactly forget," said Jeanne, "but it spoils things to mix them +together. And lots of things would be <i>quite</i> spoilt if you took them +into the regular daylight. I fancy, too, one can see farther in the +moonlight—one can see more ways."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<p>She was standing at the foot of the stair, a step or two higher than +Hugh, and the soft light, which still, in some mysterious way, seemed to +come down from above—though, looking up the spiral stair, its top +seemed lost in gloom—fell on her pretty little face. Her hair had +fallen back over her shoulders and lay dark on her pure white shiny +dress; there was a look in her eyes which Hugh had never noticed before, +as if she could see a long way off. Hugh looked at her earnestly.</p> + +<p>"Jeanne," he said, "you're a perfect puzzle. I do wonder whether you're +half a fairy, or an angel, or a dream. I do hope you're not a dream when +you're in the moonlight. But, oh dear, I cannot understand."</p> + +<p>"Do leave off trying to understand, Chéri," said Jeanne, "and let us +amuse ourselves. I always love <i>you</i>, Chéri, whatever I am, don't I?"</p> + +<p>She turned towards him brightly, with such a merry smile on her face +that Hugh could not help smiling too.</p> + +<p>"Do let us go on quickly," she said; "I do so want to see where this +stair goes to."</p> + +<p>"Let me go first. I'm a boy, you know, and it's right I should go first +in case of meeting anything that might frighten you," said Hugh.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p> + +<p>So he stepped up in front of Jeanne, and they slowly made their way.</p> + +<p>It was impossible to go fast. Never was there such a twisty little +stair. Here and there, too, it got darker, so that they could only just +find their way, step by step. And it really seemed as if they had +climbed a very long way, when from above came faintly and softly the +sound of a plaintive "mew." "Mew, mew," it said again, whoever the "it" +was, and then stopped.</p> + +<p>The children looked at each other.</p> + +<p>"Cats!" they said at the same instant.</p> + +<p>"It's just as well," said Hugh, "that none of the animals did come with +us, as so many of them are birds."</p> + +<p>Another step or two and the mystery was explained. They had reached the +top of the turret stair; it led them into a little hall, all, like the +great hall below, painted white. It looked perfectly pure and clean, as +if it had only been painted the day before, and yet there was a +curiously <i>old</i> look about it too, and a faint scent of dried rose +leaves seemed to be in the air.</p> + +<p>There was a door in this little hall, exactly opposite the top of the +stair, and at each side of the door <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>was an arm-chair, also all white, +and with a white satin cushion instead of a seat. And on each of these +chairs sat a most beautiful white cat. The only colour in the hall was +the flash of their green eyes, as they turned them full on the two +children.</p> + +<p>Jeanne crept a little closer to Hugh. But there was no reason for fear. +The cats were most amiably disposed.</p> + +<p>"Mew!" said the one on the right-hand chair.</p> + +<p>"Mew!" said the one on the left-hand chair.</p> + +<p>Then they looked at each other for a moment, and at last, seeming to +have made up their minds, each held out his right paw. Something in the +way they did it reminded Hugh and Jeanne of Dudu when he stood on one +leg, and stuck out the other like a walking-stick.</p> + +<p>"Mew!" they said again, both together this time. And then in a clear, +though rather mewey voice, the right-hand cat spoke to the children.</p> + +<p>"Madame is expecting you," he said.</p> + +<p>The children did not know what else to say, so they said, "Thank you."</p> + +<p>"She has been waiting a good while," said the left-hand cat.</p> + +<p>"I'm very sorry to have kept her waiting," said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> Hugh, feeling Jeanne +nudge him. "I hope she has not been waiting very long?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no," said the right-hand cat, "not long; not above three hundred +years."</p> + +<p>Jeanne gave a start of astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Three hundred——" "years," she was going to say, but the left-hand cat +interrupted her.</p> + +<p>"You are not to be surprised," he said, very hastily, and Jeanne could +not quite make out if he was frightened or angry, or a little of both. +"You must not <i>think</i> of being surprised. Nobody is ever surprised +here."</p> + +<p>"No one is ever surprised here," repeated the right-hand cat. "This is +the Castle of Whiteness, you know. You are sure you have nothing +coloured about you?" he added, anxiously.</p> + +<p>Instinctively both the children put their hands up to their heads.</p> + +<p>"Only our hair," they said.</p> + +<p>"Mine's light-brown, you see," said Hugh.</p> + +<p>"And mine's bl——" Jeanne was saying, but the cats, both speaking +together this time, stopped her with a squeal of horror.</p> + +<p>"Oh, oh, oh!" they said. "Where are your manners? You must never mention +such a word. Your <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>hair, Mademoiselle, is <i>shadowy</i>. That is the proper +expression."</p> + +<p>Jeanne was annoyed, and did not speak. Hugh felt himself bound to defend +her from the charge of bad manners.</p> + +<p>"You needn't be so sharp," he said to the cats; "your eyes are as green +as they can be."</p> + +<p>"Green doesn't count," said the right-hand cat, coolly.</p> + +<p>"And how were we to know that?" said Hugh.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said the left-hand cat.</p> + +<p>"Well, but can't you be sensible?" said Hugh, who didn't feel inclined +to give in to two cats.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps we might be if we tried," said the right-hand cat. "But——"</p> + +<p>A sudden sound interrupted him. It was as if some one had moved a piece +of furniture with squeaking castors.</p> + +<p>"Madame's turning her wheel," said the left-hand cat. "Now's the time."</p> + +<p>Both cats got down from their chairs, and each, standing on their hind +legs, proceeded to open his side of the door between the chairs—or +"doors" I should almost say, for it was a double-hinged one, opening in +the middle, and the funny thing about it <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>was that one side opened +outwards, and the other inwards, so that at first, unless you were +standing just exactly in the middle, you did not see very clearly into +the inside.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="300" height="88" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>"THE BROWN BULL OF NORROWA."</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Delicate, strong, and white"> +<tr><td align='left'>"Delicate, strong, and white,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Hurrah for the magic thread!</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The warp and the woof come right."</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 11em;">C</span><span class="smcap">hild World.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>They were not to be surprised! Both the children remembered that, and +yet it was a little difficult to avoid being so.</p> + +<p>At first all they saw was just another white room, a small one, and with +a curious pointed window in one corner. But when the doors were fully +opened there was more to be seen. In the first place, at the opposite +corner, was a second window exactly like the other, and in front of this +window a spinning-wheel was placed, and before this spinning-wheel sat, +on a white chair, a white-haired lady.</p> + +<p>She was spinning busily. She did not look up as the children came in. +She seemed quite absorbed in her work. So the children stood and gazed +at her, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>and the cats stood quietly in front, the right-hand one before +Hugh, the left-hand one before Jeanne, not seeming, of course, the least +surprised. Whether I should call the white-haired lady an "old" lady or +not, I really do not know. No doubt she was old, as we count old, but +yet, except for her hair, she did not look so. She was very small, and +she was dressed entirely in white, and her hands were the prettiest +little things you ever saw. But as she did not look up, Hugh and Jeanne +could not at first judge of her face. They stood staring at her for some +minutes without speaking. At last, as they were not allowed to be +surprised, and indeed felt afraid of being reproached with bad manners +by the cats if they made any remarks at all, it began, especially for +Jeanne, to grow rather stupid.</p> + +<p>She gave Hugh a little tug.</p> + +<p>"Won't you speak to her?" she whispered, very, <i>very</i> softly.</p> + +<p>Instantly both cats lifted their right paws.</p> + +<p>"You see," replied Hugh, looking at Jeanne reproachfully, "they're +getting angry."</p> + +<p>On this the cats wheeled right round and looked at the children.</p> + +<p>"I don't care," said Jeanne, working herself up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> "I don't care. It's +not our fault. They said she was waiting for us, and they made us come +in."</p> + +<p>"'<i>She</i> is the cat,' so I've been told," said a soft voice suddenly. +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: Opening quotation mark added">"And</ins> 'don't care;' something was once spun about 'don't care,' I think."</p> + +<p>Immediately the two cats threw themselves on the ground, apparently in +an agony of grief.</p> + +<p>"<i>She</i> the cat," they cried. "Oh, what presumption! And who said 'don't +care'? Oh dear! oh dear! who would have thought of such a thing?"</p> + +<p>The lady lifted her head, and looked at the cats and the children. There +was a curious expression on her face, as if she had just awakened. Her +eyes were very soft blue, softer and dreamier than Hugh's, and her +mouth, even while it smiled, had a rather sad look. But the look of her +whole face was very—I can't find a very good word for it. It seemed to +ask you questions, and yet to know more about you than you did yourself. +It was impossible not to keep looking at her once you had begun.</p> + +<p>"Hush, cats," were the next words she said. "Don't be silly; it's nearly +as bad as being surprised."</p> + +<p>Immediately the cats sat up in their places again, as quiet and +dignified as if they had not been at all put about, and Jeanne glanced +at Hugh as much as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>to say, "Aren't you glad she has put them down a +little?"</p> + +<p>Then the lady looked over the cats to the children.</p> + +<p>"It is quite ready," she said; "the threads are all straight."</p> + +<p>What could they say? They had not the least idea what she meant, and +they were afraid of asking. Evidently the white lady was of the same +opinion as the cats as to the rudeness of being surprised; very probably +asking questions would be considered still ruder.</p> + +<p>Jeanne was the first to pick up courage.</p> + +<p>"Madame," she said, "I don't mean to be rude, but I <i>am</i> so thirsty. +It's with flying, I think, for we're not accustomed to it."</p> + +<p>"Why did you not say so before?" said the lady. "I can give you anything +you want. It has all been ready a long time. Will you have snow water or +milk?"</p> + +<p>"Milk, please," said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>The lady looked at the cats.</p> + +<p>"Fetch it," she said quietly. The cats trotted off, they opened the door +as before, but left it open this time, and in another moment they +returned, carrying between them a white china tray, on which <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>were two +cups of beautiful rich-looking milk. They handed them to the children, +who each took one and drank it with great satisfaction. Then the cats +took away the cups and tray, and returned and sat down as before.</p> + +<p>The lady smiled at the children.</p> + +<p>"Now," she said, "are you ready?"</p> + +<p>She had been so kind about the milk that Hugh this time took courage.</p> + +<p>"We are <i>very</i> sorry," he said, "but we really don't understand what it +is you would like us to do."</p> + +<p>"Do?" said the lady. "Why, you have nothing to do but to listen. Isn't +that what you came for? To hear some of the stories I spin?"</p> + +<p>The children opened their eyes—with pleasure it is to be supposed +rather than surprise—for the white lady did not seem at all annoyed.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said they, both at once. "Is <i>that</i> what you're spinning? +Stories!"</p> + +<p>"Of course," said the lady. "Where did you think they all come +from?—all the stories down there?" She pointed downwards in the +direction of the stair and the great hall. "Why, here I have been +for—no, it would frighten you to tell you how long, by your counting, I +have been up here at my spin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>ning. I spin the round of the clock at this +window, then I turn my wheel—to get the light, you see—and spin the +round again at the other. If you saw the tangle it comes to me in! And +the threads I send down! It is not <i>often</i> such little people as you +come up here themselves, but it does happen sometimes. And there is +plenty ready for you—all ready for the wheel."</p> + +<p>"How wonderful!" said Hugh. "And oh!" he exclaimed, "I suppose sometimes +the threads get twisted again when you have to send them down such a +long way, and that's how stories get muddled sometimes."</p> + +<p>"Just so," said the white lady. "My story threads need gentle handling, +and sometimes people seize them roughly and tear and soil them, and then +of course they are no longer pretty. But listen now. What will you have? +The first in the wheel is a very, very old fairy story. I span it for +your great-great-grandmothers; shall I spin it again for you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, please," said both children at once.</p> + +<p>"Then sit down on the floor and lean your heads against my knees," said +the lady. "Shut your eyes and listen. That is all you have to do. Never +mind the cats, they will be quite quiet."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 256px;"><a name="story" id="story"></a> +<img src="images/7.png" width="256" height="400" alt="STORY SPINNING.—p. 141." title="STORY SPINNING.—p. 141." /> +<span class="caption">STORY SPINNING.—<a href='#Page_141'>p. 141</a></span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hugh and Jeanne did as she told them. They leaned their heads, the +smooth black one of the little girl, the fair-haired curly one of the +boy, on the lady's white robe. You can hardly imagine how soft and +pleasant it was to the touch. A half-sleepy feeling came over them; they +shut their eyes and did not feel inclined to open them again. But they +did not really go to sleep; the fairy lady began to work the wheel, and +through the soft whirr came the sound of a voice—whether it was the +voice of the lady or of the wheel they could not tell. And this was the +old, old story the wheel spun for them.</p> + +<p>"Listen, children," it began.</p> + +<p>"We are listening," said Jeanne, rather testily. "You needn't say that +again."</p> + +<p>"Hush, Jeanne," said Hugh; "you'll stop the story if you're not quiet."</p> + +<p>"Listen, children," said the voice again. And Jeanne was quite quiet.</p> + +<p>"Once on a time—a very long time ago—in a beautiful castle there lived +a beautiful Princess. She was young and sweet and very fair to see. And +she was the only child of her parents, who thought nothing too rare or +too good for her. At her birth all the fairies had given her valuable +gifts—no evil <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>wishes had been breathed over her cradle. Only the fairy +who had endowed her with good sense and ready wit had dropped certain +words, which had left some anxiety in the minds of her parents.</p> + +<p>"'She will need my gifts,' the fairy had said. 'If she uses them well, +they and these golden balls will stand her in good need.</p> + +<p>"And as she kissed the baby she left by her pillow three lovely golden +balls, at which, as soon as the little creature saw them, she smiled +with pleasure, and held out her tiny hands to catch them.</p> + +<p>"They were of course balls of fairy make—they were small enough for the +little Princess at first to hold in her baby hands, but as she grew they +grew, till, when she had reached her sixteenth year, they were the size +of an orange. They were golden, but yet neither hard nor heavy, and +nothing had power to dint or stain them. And all through her babyhood +and childhood, and on into her girlhood, they were the Princess's +favourite toy. They were never away from her, and by the time she had +grown to be a tall and beautiful girl, with constant practice she had +learnt to catch them as cleverly as an Indian juggler. She could whiz +them all three in the air at a time, and never let one drop to the +ground. And all the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>people about grew used to seeing their pretty +Princess, as she wandered through the gardens and woods near the castle, +throwing her balls in the air as she walked, and catching them again +without the slightest effort.</p> + +<p>"And remembering the words of the fairy who had given them, naturally +her father and mother were pleased to see her love for the magic gift, +and every one about the palace was forbidden to laugh at her, or to say +that it was babyish for a tall Princess to play so much with a toy that +had amused her as an infant.</p> + +<p>"She was not a silly Princess at all. She was clever at learning, and +liked it, and she was sensible and quick-witted and very brave. So no +one was inclined to laugh at her pretty play, even if they had not been +forbidden to do so. And she was so kind-hearted and merry, that if ever +in her rambles she met any little children who stared at her balls with +wondering eyes, she would make her ladies stop, while she threw the +balls up in the air, higher and yet higher, ever catching them again as +they flew back, and laughed with pleasure to see the little creatures' +delight in her skill.</p> + +<p>"She was such a happy Princess that the bright balls seemed like +herself—ready to catch every ray <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>of sunshine and make it prisoner. And +till she had reached her sixteenth year no cloud had come over her +brightness. About this time she noticed that the king, her father, began +to look anxious and grave, and messengers often came in haste to see him +from far-off parts of his kingdom. And once or twice she overheard words +dropped which she could not understand, except that it was evident some +misfortune was at hand. But in their desire to save their daughter all +sorrow, the king and queen had given orders that the trouble which had +come to the country was not to be told her; so the Princess could find +out nothing even by questioning her ladies or her old nurse, who +hitherto had never refused to tell her anything she wanted to know.</p> + +<p>"One day when she was walking about the gardens, playing as usual with +her golden balls, she came upon a young girl half hidden among the +shrubs, crying bitterly. The Princess stopped at once to ask her what +was the matter, but the girl only shook her head and went on weeping, +refusing to answer.</p> + +<p>"'I dare not tell you, Princess,' she said. 'I dare not. You are good +and kind, and I do not blame you for my misfortunes. If you knew all, +you would pity me.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And that was all she would say.</p> + +<p>"She was a pretty girl, about the same age and height as the Princess, +and the Princess, after speaking to her, remembered that she had +sometimes seen her before.</p> + +<p>"'You are the daughter of the gardener, are you not?' she inquired.</p> + +<p>"'Yes,' said the girl. 'My father is the king's gardener. But I have +been away with my grandmother. They only sent for me yesterday to come +home—and—and—oh, I was to have been married next week to a young +shepherd, who has loved me since my childhood!'</p> + +<p>"And with this the girl burst into fresh weeping, but not another word +would she say.</p> + +<p>"Just then the Princess's governess, who had been a little behind—for +sometimes in playing with her balls the Princess ran on faster—came up +to where the two young girls were talking together. When the governess +saw who the Princess's companion was she seemed uneasy.</p> + +<p>"'What has she been saying to you, Princess?' she asked eagerly. 'It is +the gardener's daughter, I see.'</p> + +<p>"'Yes,' said the Princess. 'She is the gardener's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>daughter, and she is +in some great trouble. That is all I know, for she will tell me nothing +but that she was to have been married next week, and then she weeps. I +wish I knew what her sorrow is, for, perhaps, I could be of use to her. +I would give her all my money if it would do her any good,' and the +Princess looked ready to cry herself. But the girl only shook her head. +'No Princess,' she said; 'it would do me no good. It is not your fault; +but oh, it is very hard on me!'</p> + +<p>"The governess seemed very frightened and spoke sharply to the girl, +reproving her for annoying the Princess with her distress. The Princess +was surprised, for all her ladies hitherto had, by the king and queen's +desire, encouraged her to be kind and sympathising to those in trouble, +and to do all she could to console them. But as she had also been taught +to be very obedient, she made no remonstrance when her governess desired +her to leave the girl and return to the castle. But all that day the +Princess remained silent and depressed. It was the first time a shadow +had come near her happiness.</p> + +<p>"The next morning when she awoke the sun was shining brilliantly. It was +a most lovely spring day. The Princess's happy spirits seemed all to +have <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>returned. She said to herself that she would confide to the queen +her mother her concern about the poor girl that she had seen, and no +doubt the queen would devise some way of helping her. And the thought +made her feel so light-hearted that she told her attendants to fetch her +a beautiful white dress trimmed with silver, which had been made for her +but the day before. To her surprise the maidens looked at each other in +confusion. At last one replied that the queen had not been pleased with +the dress and had sent it away, but that a still more beautiful one +trimmed with gold should be ready by that evening. The Princess was +perplexed; she was not so silly as to care about the dress, but it +seemed to her very strange that her mother should not admire what she +had thought so lovely a robe. But still more surprised was she at a +message which was brought to her, as soon as she was dressed, from the +king and queen, desiring her to remain in her own rooms the whole of +that day without going out, for a reason that should afterwards be +explained to her. She made no objection, as she was submissive and +obedient to her parents' wishes, but she found it strange and sad to +spend that beautiful spring day shut up in her rooms, more especially as +in her favourite boudoir, a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>turret chamber which overlooked the castle +courtyard, she found the curtains drawn closely, as if it were night, +and was told by her governess that this too was by the king's orders; +the Princess was requested not to look out of the windows. She grew at +this a little impatient.</p> + +<p>"'I am willing to obey my parents,' she said, <ins title="Transcriber's Note: Original missing opening '">'but</ins> I would fain they +trusted me, for I am no longer a child. Some misfortune is threatening +us, I feel, and it is concealed from me, as if I could be happy or at +rest if sorrow is hanging over my dear parents or the nation.'</p> + +<p>"But no explanation was given to her, and all that day she sat in her +darkened chamber playing sadly with her golden balls and thinking deeply +to herself about the mystery. And towards the middle of the day sounds +of excitement reached her from the courtyard beneath. There seemed a +running to and fro, a noise of horses and of heavy feet, and now and +then faint sounds of weeping.</p> + +<p>"'Goes the king a hunting to-day?' she asked her ladies. 'And whose +weeping is it I hear?'</p> + +<p>"But the ladies only shook their heads without speaking.</p> + +<p>"By the evening all seemed quiet. The Princess <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>was desired to join her +parents as usual, and the white and golden robe was brought to her to +wear. She put it on with pleasure, and said to herself there could after +all be no terrible misfortune at hand, for if so there would not be the +signs of rejoicing she observed as she passed through the palace. And +never had her parents been more tender and loving. They seemed to look +at her as if never before they had known how they treasured her, and the +Princess was so touched by these proofs of their affection that she +could not make up her mind to trouble them by asking questions which +they might not wish to answer.</p> + +<p>"The next day everything went on as usual in the palace, and it seemed +to the Princess that there was a general feeling as if some great danger +was safely passed. But this happiness did not last long; about three +days later, again a messenger, dusty and wearied with riding fast and +hard, made his appearance at the castle; and faces grew gloomy, and the +king and queen were evidently overwhelmed with grief. Yet nothing was +told to the Princess.</p> + +<p>"She wandered out about the gardens and castle grounds, playing as usual +with her balls, but wondering sadly what meant this mysterious trouble. +And <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>as she was passing the poultry-yard, she heard a sound which seemed +to suit her thoughts—some one was crying sadly. The Princess turned to +see who it was. This time too it was a young girl about her own age, a +girl whom she knew very well by sight, for she was the daughter of the +queen's henwife, and the Princess had often seen her driving the flocks +of turkeys or geese to their fields, or feeding the pretty cocks and +hens which the queen took great pride in.</p> + +<p>"'What is the matter, Bruna?' said the Princess, leaning over the gate. +'Have the rats eaten any of the little chickens, or has your mother been +scolding you for breaking some eggs?'</p> + +<p>"'Neither, Princess,' said the girl among her sobs. 'The chickens are +never eaten, and my mother seldom scolds me. My trouble is far worse +than that, but I dare not tell it to you—to you of all people in the +world.'</p> + +<p>"And the Princess's governess, who just then came up, looked again very +frightened and uneasy.</p> + +<p>"'Princess, Princess,' she said, 'what a habit you are getting of +talking to all these foolish girls. Come back to the palace at once with +me.'</p> + +<p>"'I have often talked to Bruna before,' said the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> Princess gently, 'and +I never was blamed for doing so. She is a pretty girl, and I have known +her all my life. Some one said she was betrothed to one of my father's +huntsmen, and I would like to ask if it is true. Perhaps they are too +poor to marry, and it may be for that she is weeping.'</p> + +<p>"Bruna heard what the Princess said, and wept still more violently. 'Ah, +yes, it is true!' she said, 'but never, never shall I now be married to +him.'</p> + +<p>"But the Princess's governess would not let her wait to ask more. She +hurried her back to the castle, and the Princess—more sure than ever +that some mysterious trouble was in question—could get no explanation.</p> + +<p>"She did not see the king and queen that night, and the next morning a +strange thing happened—her white and golden robe was missing. And all +that her attendants could tell her was that it had been taken away by +the queen's orders.</p> + +<p>"'Then,' said the Princess, 'there is some sad trouble afloat which is +hidden from me.'</p> + +<p>"And when she went to her turret room, and found, as before, that the +windows were all closed, so that she could not see out, she sat down and +cried with distress and anxiety.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And, again, about mid-day, the same confused noises were to be heard. A +sound of horses and people moving about in the courtyard, a tramping of +heavy feet, and through all a faint and smothered weeping. The Princess +could bear her anxiety no longer. She drew back the curtains, and +unfastened the shutters, and leaned out. From her window she could +clearly see the courtyard. It was, as she suspected, filled with people; +rows of soldiers on horse-back lined the sides, and in front, on the +steps, the king and queen were standing looking at a strange object. It +was an enormous bull: never had the Princess seen such a bull. He was +dark brown in colour, and pawed the ground in front of him impatiently, +and on his back was seated a young girl whom the Princess gazed at with +astonishment. She really thought for a moment it was herself, and that +she was dreaming! For the girl was dressed in the Princess's own white +and golden robe, and her face could not be seen, for it was covered with +a thick veil, and numbers of women and servants standing about were +weeping bitterly. And so, evidently, was the girl herself. Then the +great bull gave another impatient toss, the girl seized his horns to +keep herself from falling, and off he set, with a terrible rush:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> and a +great shout, half of fear, half of rejoicing, as seeing him go, rose +from the people about.</p> + +<p>"Just at this moment the Princess heard some one approaching her room. +She hastily drew the curtains, and sat down playing with her balls, as +if she had seen nothing.</p> + +<p>"She said not a word to any one, but she had her own thoughts, and that +evening she was sent for to her father and mother, who, as usual, +received her with caresses and every sign of the tenderest affection. +And several days passed quietly, but still the Princess had her own +thoughts.</p> + +<p>"And one evening when she was sitting with her mother, suddenly the king +entered the room in the greatest trouble, and not seeing the Princess, +for it was dusk, he exclaimed,</p> + +<p>"'It has failed again. The monster is not to be deceived. He vows he +will not cease his ravages till he gets the real Princess, our beloved +daughter. He has appeared again, and is more infuriated than ever, +tearing up trees by the roots, destroying the people's houses, tramping +over their fields, and half killing all the country with terror. What is +to be done? The people say they can endure it no longer. The girl Bruna +was found bruised and bleeding by the wayside <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>a long way from this, and +she gives the same account as the gardener's daughter of the monster's +rage at finding he had been deceived.'</p> + +<p>"The queen had tried to prevent the king's relating all this, but he was +too excited to notice her hints, and, indeed, after the first few words, +the Princess had heard enough. She started from her seat and came +forward. And when he saw her, the king threw up his hands in despair. +But the Princess said quietly, 'Father, you must tell me the whole.'</p> + +<p>"So they had to tell her the whole. For many weeks past the terrible +monster she had seen in the courtyard had been filling the country with +fear. He had suddenly appeared at a distant part of the kingdom—having +come, it was said, from a country over the sea named 'Norrowa'—and had +laid it waste, for though he did not actually kill or devour, he tore +down trees, trampled crops, and terrified every one that came in his +way, as the king had said. And when begged to have mercy and to return +to his own country, he roared out with a voice between the voice of a +man and the bellow of a bull, that he would leave them in peace once the +king gave him his daughter in marriage.</p> + +<p>"Messenger after messenger had been sent to the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>palace to entreat for +assistance. Soldiers in numbers had been despatched to seize the monster +and imprison him. But it was no use—he was not to be caught. Nothing +would content him but the promise of the Princess; and as it was of +course plain that he was not a common bull, but a creature endowed with +magical power, the country-people's fear of him was unbounded. They +threatened to rise in revolution unless some means were found of ridding +them of their terrible visitor. Then the king called together the wisest +of his counsellors, and finding force of no avail, they determined to +try cunning. The giving the Princess was not to be thought of, but a +pretty girl about her age and size—the gardener's daughter, the same +whom the Princess had found weeping over her fate—was chosen, dressed +in one of her royal mistress's beautiful robes, and a message sent to +the bull that his request was to be granted. He came. All round, the +castle was protected by soldiers, though they well knew their power +against him was nothing. The king and queen, feigning to weep over the +loss of their daughter, themselves presented to him the false Princess.</p> + +<p>"She was mounted on his back, and off he rushed with her—up hill, down +dale, by rocky ground and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>smooth, across rivers and through forests he +rushed, said the girl, faster and faster, till at last, as evening fell, +he came to a stand and spoke to her for the first time.</p> + +<p>"'What time of day must it be by this, king's daughter?' he said.</p> + +<p>"The girl considered for a moment. Then, forgetting her pretended +position, she replied thoughtlessly,</p> + +<p>"'It must be getting late. About the time that my father gathers the +flowers to adorn the king's and queen's supper table.'</p> + +<p>"'Throw thee once, throw thee twice, throw thee <i>thrice</i>,' roared the +bull, each time shaking the girl roughly, and the last time flinging her +off his back. 'Shame on thee, gardener's daughter, and thou wouldst call +thyself a true Princess.'</p> + +<p>"And with that he left her bruised and frightened out of her wits on the +ground, and rushed off by himself whither she knew not. And it was not +till two days later that the unfortunate gardener's daughter found her +way home, glad enough, one may be sure, to be again there in safety.</p> + +<p>"In the meantime the ravages and terrors caused by the terrible bull had +begun again, and, as before, messengers came incessantly to the king +entreating <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>him to find some means of protecting his unfortunate +subjects. And the king and queen were half beside themselves with +anxiety. Only one thing they were determined on—nothing must be told to +the Princess.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="300" height="88" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>THE BROWN BULL—(<i>Continued</i>).</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="And she told them an old world history"> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">"And she</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Told them an old-world history."</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 9em;">M</span><span class="smcap">atthew Arnold.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p><ins title="Transcriber's Note: Opening quotation mark added'">"'She</ins> is so courageous,' said the queen, 'there is no knowing what she +might not do.'</p> + +<p>"'She is so kind-hearted,' said the king; 'she might imagine it her duty +to sacrifice herself to our people.'</p> + +<p>"And the poor king and queen wept copiously at the mere thought, and all +the ladies and attendants of the Princess were ordered on no account to +let a breath of the terrible story be heard by her. Yet, after all, it +so happened that her suspicions were aroused afresh by the sight this +time of the weeping Bruna. For nothing else could be suggested than +again to try to deceive the monster; and Bruna, a still prettier girl +than the gardener's daughter, was this time chosen to represent the +Princess. But all <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>happened as before. The brown bull rushed off with +his prize, the whole day the unfortunate Bruna was shaken on his back, +and again, as night began to fall, he stopped at the same spot.</p> + +<p>"'What time must it be by this, king's daughter?' he asked.</p> + +<p>"Foolish Bruna, thankful to have a moment's rest, answered hastily,</p> + +<p>"'O brown bull, it must be getting late, and I am sorely tired. It must +be about the time that my mother takes all the eggs that have been laid +in the day to the king's kitchen.'</p> + +<p>"'Throw thee once, throw thee twice, throw thee <i>thrice</i>,' roared the +bull, each time shaking the henwife's daughter roughly, at the end +flinging her to the ground. 'Shame on thee, thou henwife's daughter, to +call thyself a true Princess.'</p> + +<p>"And with that off he rushed, furious, and from that day the ravages and +the terrors began again, and Bruna found her way home, bruised and +weeping, to tell her story.</p> + +<p>"This was the tale now related to the Princess, and as she listened a +strange look of determination and courage came over her face.</p> + +<p>"'There is but one thing to be done,' she said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> 'It is childish to +attempt to deceive a creature who is evidently not what he seems. Let me +go myself, my parents. Trust me to do my best. And, at worst, if I +perish, it will be in a good cause. Better it should be so than that our +people should be driven from their homes, the whole country devastated, +and all its happiness destroyed.'</p> + +<p>"The king and queen had no answer to give but their tears. But the +Princess remained firm, and they found themselves obliged to do as she +directed. A messenger was sent to the monster to inform him, for the +third time, that his terms were to be agreed to, and the rest of the day +was spent in the palace in weeping and lamentation.</p> + +<p>"Only, strange to say, the Princess shed no tears. She seemed as +cheerful as usual; she played with her golden balls, and endeavoured to +comfort her sorrowful parents, and was so brave and hopeful that in +spite of themselves the poor king and queen could not help feeling a +little comforted.</p> + +<p>"'It is a good sign that she has never left off playing with her balls,' +they said to each other. 'Who knows but what the fairy's prediction may +be true, and that in some way the balls may be the means of saving +her?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'They and my wits,' said the Princess, laughing, for she had often been +told of the fairy's saying.</p> + +<p>"And the king and queen and all the ladies and gentlemen of the court +looked at her in astonishment, admiring her courage, but marvelling at +her having the spirit to laugh at such a moment.</p> + +<p>"The next morning, at the usual time, the terrible visitor made his +appearance. He came slowly up to the castle courtyard and stood at the +great entrance, tossing his enormous head with impatience. But he was +not kept waiting long; the doors were flung open, and at the top of the +flight of steps leading down from them appeared the young Princess, pale +but resolute, her fair hair floating over her shoulders, her golden +balls flashing as she slowly walked down the steps, tossing them as she +went. And, unlike the false princesses, she was dressed entirely in +black, without a single jewel or ornament of any kind—nothing but her +balls, and her hair caught the sunlight as she passed. There were no +soldiers this time, no crowd of weeping friends; the grief of the king +and queen was now too real to be shown, and the Princess had asked that +there should be no one to see her go.</p> + +<p>"The brown bull stood still as a lamb for her to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>mount, and then at a +gentle pace he set off. The Princess had no need to catch hold of his +horns to keep herself from falling, his step was so even. And all along +as she rode she threw her balls up softly in the air, catching them as +they fell. But the brown bull spoke not a word.</p> + +<p>"On and on they went; the sun rose high in the heavens and poured down +on the girl's uncovered head the full heat of his rays. But just as she +began to feel it painfully, they entered a forest, where the green shade +of the summer trees made a pleasant shelter. And when they came out from +the forest again on the other side the sun was declining; before long he +had sunk below the horizon, evening was at hand. And as before, the +brown bull stopped.</p> + +<p>"'King's daughter,' he said, in a voice so gentle, though deep, that the +Princess started with surprise, 'what hour must it be by this? Tell me, +king's daughter, I pray.'</p> + +<p>"'Brown bull,' replied the Princess, without a moment's hesitation, for +those who have nothing to conceal are fearless and ready; 'brown bull, +it is getting late. By now must the king and queen, my father and +mother, be sitting down to their solitary supper and thinking of me, for +at this hour I was used <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>to hasten to them, throwing my pretty balls +as I went.'</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 255px;"><a name="bull" id="bull"></a> +<img src="images/8.png" width="255" height="400" alt="THE BROWN BULL OF NORROWA.—p. 162." title="THE BROWN BULL OF NORROWA.—p. 162." /> +<span class="caption">THE BROWN BULL OF NORROWA.—<a href='#Page_162'>p. 162</a></span> +</div> + +<p>"'I thank thee, thou true Princess,' said the bull in the same tone, and +he hastened on.</p> + +<p>"And ere long the night fell, and the poor Princess was so tired and +sleepy, that without knowing it her pretty head drooped lower and lower, +and at last she lay fast asleep on the bull's broad back, her fair head +resting between his horns.</p> + +<p>"She slept so soundly that she did not notice when he stopped, only she +had a strange dream. Some one lifted her gently and laid her on a couch, +it seemed to her, and a kind voice whispered in her ear, 'Good-night, my +fair Princess.'</p> + +<p>"But it must have been a dream, she said to herself. How could a bull +have arms to lift her, or how could a rough, ferocious creature like him +be so gentle and kind? It must have been a dream, for when she awoke she +saw the great monster standing beside her on his four legs as usual; yet +it was strange, for she found herself lying on a delicious mossy couch, +and the softest and driest moss had been gathered together for a pillow, +and beside her a cup of fresh milk and a cake of oaten bread were lying +for her breakfast. How had all this been done for her? she asked +her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>self, as she ate with a very good appetite, for she had had no food +since the morning before. She began to think the bull not so bad after +all, and to wonder if it was to Fairyland he was going to take her. And +as she thought this to herself she threw her balls, which were lying +beside her, up into the air, and the morning sun caught their sparkle +and seemed to send it dancing back again on to her bright fair hair. And +a sudden fancy seized her.</p> + +<p>"'Catch,' she said to the bull, throwing a ball at him as she spoke. He +tossed his head, and to her surprise the ball was caught on one of his +horns.</p> + +<p>"'Catch,' she said again, and he had caught the second.</p> + +<p>"'Catch,' a third time. The great creature caught it in his mouth like a +dog, and brought it gently to the Princess and laid it at her feet. She +took it and half timidly stroked his head; and no one who had seen the +soft pathetic look which crept into his large round eyes would have +believed in his being the cruel monster he had been described. He did +not speak, he seemed without the power to do so now, but by signs he +made the Princess understand it was time to continue their journey, and +she mounted his back as before.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All that day the bull travelled on, but the Princess was now getting +accustomed to her strange steed, and felt less tired and frightened. And +when the sun grew hot the bull was sure to find a sheltered path, where +the trees shaded her from the glare, and when the road was rough he went +the more slowly, that she should not be shaken.</p> + +<p>"Late in the evening the Princess heard a far-off rushing sound, that as +they went seemed to grow louder and louder.</p> + +<p>"'What is that, brown bull?' she asked, feeling somehow a little +frightened.</p> + +<p>"The brown bull raised his head and looked round him. Yes, the sun had +sunk, he might speak. And in the same deep voice he answered,</p> + +<p>"'The sea, king's daughter, the sea that is to bear you and me to my +country of Norrowa.'</p> + +<p>"'And how shall we cross it, brown bull?' she said.</p> + +<p>"'Have no <ins title="Transcriber's Note: double end-quote changed to single end-quote">fear,'</ins> he replied. 'Lay down your head and shut your eyes, and +no harm will come near you.'</p> + +<p>"The Princess did as he bade her. She heard the roar of the waves come +nearer and nearer, a cold wind blew over her face, and she felt at last +that her huge steed had plunged into the water, for it splashed on to +her hand, which was hanging downwards, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>then she heard him, with a +gasp and a snort, strike out boldly. The Princess drew herself up on the +bull's back as closely as she could; she had no wish to get wet. But she +was not frightened. She grew accustomed to the motion of her great +steed's swimming, and as she kept her eyes fast shut she did not see how +near she was to the water, and felt as if in a peaceful dream. And after +a while the feeling became reality, for she fell fast asleep and dreamt +she was in her little turret chamber, listening to the wind softly +blowing through the casement.</p> + +<p>"When she awoke she was alone. She was lying on a couch, but this time +not of moss, but of the richest and softest silk. She rubbed her eyes +and looked about her. Was she in her father's castle? Had her youth and +her courage softened the monster's heart, and made him carry her back +again to her happy home? For a moment she thought it must be so; but no, +when she looked again, none of the rooms in her old home were so +beautiful as this one where she found herself. Not even her mother's +great saloon, which she had always thought so magnificent, was to be +compared with it. It was not very large, but it was more like Fairyland +than anything she had ever dreamt of. The loveliest flowers <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>were +trained against the walls, here and there fountains of delicately +scented waters refreshed the air, the floor was covered with carpets of +the richest hues and the softest texture. There were birds singing among +the flowers, gold and silver fish sporting in the marble basins—it was +a perfect fairy's bower. The Princess sat up and looked about her. There +was no one to be seen, not a sound but the dropping of the fountains and +the soft chatter of the birds. The Princess admired it all exceedingly, +but she was very hungry, and as her long sleep had completely refreshed +her, she felt no longer inclined to lie still. So she crossed the room +to where a curtain was hanging, which she thought perhaps concealed a +door. She drew aside the curtain, the door behind was already open; she +found herself in a second room, almost as beautiful as the first, and +lighted in the same way with coloured lamps hanging from the roof. And +to her great delight, before her was a table already laid for supper +with every kind of delicious fruit and bread, and cakes, and everything +that a young Princess could desire. She was so hungry that she at once +sat down to the table, and then she perceived to her surprise that it +was laid for two!</p> + +<p>"'Can the bull be coming to sup with me?' she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>said to herself, half +laughing at the idea. And she added aloud, 'Come if you like, Mr. Bull; +I find your house very pretty, and I thank you for your hospitality.'</p> + +<p>"And as she said the words, a voice which somehow seemed familiar to +her, replied,</p> + +<p>"'I thank you, gracious Princess, for your permission. Without it I +could not have entered your presence as I do now,' and looking up, she +saw, coming in by another door that she had not noticed, a most +unexpected visitor.</p> + +<p>"It was not the bull, it was a young Prince such as our pretty Princess, +who was not without her daydreams, like other young girls, had sometimes +pictured to herself as coming on a splendid horse, with his followers +around him in gallant attire, to ask her of her parents. He was well +made and manly, with a bright and pleasant expression, and dressed, of +course, to perfection. The Princess glanced at her plain black robe in +vexation, and her fair face flushed.</p> + +<p><ins title="Transcriber's Note: '" changed to "'">"'I</ins> knew not,' she began. 'I thought I should see no one but the brown +bull.'</p> + +<p>"The Prince laughed merrily. He was in good spirits naturally, as any +one would be who, after being forced for ten years to wear a frightful +and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>hideous disguise, and to behave like a rough and surly bull, +instead of like a well-born gentleman, should suddenly find himself in +his own pleasant person again.</p> + +<p>"'I <i>was</i> the bull,' he said, 'but you, Princess, have transformed me. +How can I ever show you my gratitude?'</p> + +<p>"'You owe me none,' said the Princess gently. 'What I did was to save my +parents and their people. If it has served you in good stead, that for +me is reward enough. But,' she added, 'I wish I had brought some of my +pretty dresses with me. It must look so rude to you to have this ugly +black one.'</p> + +<p>"The Prince begged her not to trouble herself about such a trifle—to +him she was beautiful as the day in whatever attire she happened to be. +And then they ate their supper with a good appetite, though it seemed +strange to the Princess to be quite without attendants, sitting alone at +table with a young man whom she had never seen before.</p> + +<p>"And after supper a new idea struck her.</p> + +<p>"'Catch,' she said, drawing the first ball out of the little pocket in +the front of her dress, where she always carried her balls, and flinging +it across the table to the Prince with her usual skill, not breaking <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>a +glass or bending a leaf of the flowers with which the dishes were +adorned.</p> + +<p>"In an instant the Prince had caught it, and as she sent off the second, +crying again 'Catch,' he returned her the first, leaving his hand free +for the third.</p> + +<p>"'Yes,' said the Princess, after continuing this game for a little +while. 'Yes, I see that you are a true Prince,' for strange to say, he +was as skilful at her game as she was herself.</p> + +<p>"And they played with her balls for a long time throwing them higher and +higher without ever missing, and laughing with pleasure, like two merry +children.</p> + +<p>"Then suddenly the Prince started from his seat, and his face grew sad +and grave.</p> + +<p>"'I must go,' he said; 'my hour of liberty is over.'</p> + +<p><ins title="Transcriber's Note: closing quote changed to closing single quote">"'Go?'</ins> said the Princess in surprise and distress, for she had found the +Prince a very pleasant companion. 'You must go? and leave me alone +here?'</p> + +<p>"She looked as if she were going to cry, and the Prince looked as if he +were going to cry too.</p> + +<p>"'Alas, Princess!' he said, 'in my joy for the moment, I had almost +forgotten my sad fate;' and then he went on to explain to her that for +many <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>years past he had been under a fairy spell, the work of an evil +fairy who had vowed to revenge herself on his parents for some fancied +insult to her. He had been forced to take the form of a bull and to +spread terror wherever he went; and the power of this spell was to +continue till he should meet with a beautiful Princess who of her own +free will would return with him to his country and treat him with +friendliness, both of which conditions had been now fulfilled.</p> + +<p>"'Then all is right!' exclaimed the Princess joyfully. 'Why should you +look so sad?'</p> + +<p>"'Alas! no,' repeated the Prince, 'the spell is but partly broken. I +have only power to regain my natural form for three hours every evening +after sunset. And for three years more must it be so. Then, if your +goodness continues so long, all will indeed be right. But during that +time it will be necessary for you to live alone, except for the three +hours I can pass with you, in this enchanted palace of mine. No harm +will befall you, all your wants will be supplied by invisible hands; but +for a young and beautiful Princess like you, it will be a sad trial, and +one that I feel I have no right to ask your consent to.'</p> + +<p>"'And can nothing be done?' said the Princess, 'nothing to shorten your +endurance of the spell?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Nothing,' said the Prince, sadly. 'Any effort to do so would only +cause fearful troubles. I drop my hated skin at sunset, but three hours +later I must resume it.'</p> + +<p>"He glanced towards the corner of the room where, though the Princess +had not before observed it, the brown bull's skin lay in a heap.</p> + +<p><ins title="Transcriber's Note: opening ' added">"'Hateful</ins> thing!' said the Princess, clenching her pretty hands, 'I +would like to burn it.'</p> + +<p>"The Prince grew pale with fright. 'Hush! Princess,' he said. 'Never +breathe such words. Any rash act would have the most fearful +consequences.'</p> + +<p>"'What?' said the Princess, curiously.</p> + +<p>"The Prince came nearer her and said in a low voice, 'For <i>me</i> they +would be such. In such a case I might too probably never see you more.'</p> + +<p>"The Princess blushed. Considering that he had spent ten years as a +bull, it seemed to her that the Prince's manners were really not to be +found fault with, and she promised him that she would consider the +matter over, and by the next evening tell him her decision.</p> + +<p>"She felt rather inclined to cry when she found herself again quite +alone in the great strange palace, for she was only sixteen, even though +so brave and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>cheerful. But still she had nothing whatever to complain +of. Not a wish was formed in her heart but it was at once fulfilled, for +this power was still the Prince's. She found, in what was evidently +intended for her dressing-room, everything a young Princess could +possibly desire in the shape of dresses, each more lovely than the +others; shoes of silk or satin, exquisitely embroidered to suit her +various costumes; laces and shawls, ribbons and feathers, and jewels of +every conceivable kind in far greater abundance than so sensible a young +lady found at all necessary. But believing all these pretty things to be +provided to please her by the Prince's desire, she endeavoured to amuse +herself with them, and found it rather interesting for the first time in +her life to have to choose for herself. Her breakfasts and dinners, and +everything conceivable in the shape of delicate and delicious food, +appeared whenever she wished for anything of the kind; invisible hands +opened the windows and shut the doors, lighted the lamps when the +evening closed in, arranged her long fair hair more skilfully than any +mortal maid, and brushed it softly when at night she wished to have it +unfastened. Books in every language to interest her, for the Princess +had been well taught, appeared on the tables, also <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>materials for +painting and for embroidery, in which she was very clever. Altogether it +was impossible to complain, and the next day passed pleasantly enough, +though it must be confessed the young Princess often found herself +counting the hours till it should be that of sunset.</p> + +<p>"Punctual to the moment the Prince made his appearance, but to his +guest's distress he seemed careworn and anxious.</p> + +<p>"'Has some new misfortune threatened you?' she asked.</p> + +<p>"'No,' replied the Prince, 'but I have to-day scarcely been able to +endure my anxiety to learn your decision. Never in all these terrible +years has my suffering been greater, never have I so loathed the hideous +disguise in which I am compelled to live.'</p> + +<p>"Tears filled the Princess's eyes. Had anything been wanting to decide +her, the deep pity which she now felt for the unfortunate Prince would +have done so.</p> + +<p>"'I <i>have</i> decided!' she exclaimed. 'Three years will soon pass, and I +shall be well able to amuse myself with all the charming things with +which I am surrounded. Besides, I shall see you every day, and the +looking forward to that will help to cheer me.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It would be impossible to tell the Prince's delight. He became at once +as gay and lively as the day before. The Princess and he had supper +together, and amused themselves afterwards with the enchanted balls, and +the evening passed so quickly that the princess could hardly believe +more than one hour instead of three had gone, when he started up, saying +his time was over. It was sad to see him go, forced, through no fault of +his own, to return to his hated disguise; but still it was with a +lightened heart that the poor brown bull went tramping about during the +next one-and-twenty hours.</p> + +<p>"And on her side the Princess's lonely hours were cheered by the thought +that she was to be the means of freeing him from the power of the +terrible spell, for all that she saw of him only served to increase her +sympathy and respect.</p> + +<p>"So time went on. The Princess got more and more accustomed to her +strange life, and every day more attached to the Prince, who on his side +could not do enough to prove to her his gratitude. For many weeks he +never failed to enter her presence the instant the sun had sunk below +the horizon, and the three hours they spent together made amends to both +for the loneliness of the rest of the day. And when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>ever the Princess +felt inclined to murmur, she renewed her patience and courage by the +thought of how much harder to bear was the Prince's share of the trial. +She was allowed to remain in peaceful security, and to employ her time +in pleasant and interesting ways; while he was forced to rove the world +as a hateful monster, shunned by any of the human race whom he happened +to meet, constantly exposed to fatigue and privation.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes they spent a part of the evening in the beautiful gardens +surrounding the palace. There, one day, as sunset was approaching, the +Princess had betaken herself to wait the Prince's arrival, when a sad +shock met her. It was past the usual hour of his coming. Several times +she had wandered up and down the path by which he generally approached +the castle, tossing her balls as she went, for more than once he had +seen their glitter from a distance, and known by it that she was +waiting. But this evening she waited and watched in vain, and at last, a +strange anxiety seizing her, she turned towards the castle to see if +possibly he had entered from the other side, and was hurrying back when +a low moan reached her ears, causing her heart for an instant almost to +leave off beating with terror.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="300" height="88" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>THE END OF THE BROWN BULL.</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="And happy they ever lived after"> +<tr><td align='left'>"'And happy they ever lived after'—</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yes, that was the end of the tale."</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<p>"The Princess collected her courage, and turned in the direction of the +sound. It seemed to come from a little thicket of close-growing bushes +near which she had been passing. For a minute or two she could +distinguish nothing, but another moan guided her in the right direction, +and there, to her horror and distress, she saw the poor Prince lying on +the ground, pale and death-like. At first she thought he was without +consciousness, but when she hastened up to him with a cry, he opened his +eyes.</p> + +<p>"'Ah!' he said, faintly; 'I never thought I should have escaped alive. +How good of you to have come to seek for me, Princess; otherwise I might +have died here without seeing you again.'</p> + +<p>"'But you must not die,' said the Princess, weeping; 'can nothing be +done for you?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He tried to sit up, and when the Princess had fetched him some water +from one of the numerous springs in the garden, he seemed better. But +his right arm was badly injured.</p> + +<p>"'How did it happen?' asked the Princess. 'I thought no mortal weapon +had power to hurt you. That has been my only consolation through these +lonely days of waiting.'</p> + +<p>"'You are right,' replied the Prince; 'as a bull nothing can injure me, +but in my own form I am in no way magically preserved. All day long I +have been chased by hunters, who saw in me, I suppose, a valuable prize. +I was terrified of the hour of sunset arriving and finding me far from +home. I used my utmost endeavour to reach this in time, but, alas! I was +overcome with fatigue, from which no spell protects me. At the entrance +to these gardens I saw the sun disappear, and I fell exhausted, just as +an arrow struck my right arm at the moment of my transformation. All I +could do was to crawl in among these bushes, and here I have lain, +thankful to escape from my persecutors, and most thankful to the happy +thought, Princess, which brought you this way.'</p> + +<p>"The Princess, her eyes still full of tears, helped him to the palace, +where she bound up his arm and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>tended him carefully, for, young as she +was, she had learnt many useful acts of this kind in her father's +castle. The wound was not a very serious one; the Prince was suffering +more from exhaustion and fatigue.</p> + +<p>"'If I could spend a day or two here in peace,' he said sadly, 'I should +quickly recover. But, alas! that is impossible. I must submit to my +cruel fate. But this night I must confine my wanderings to the forests +in this neighbourhood, where, perhaps, I may be able to hide from the +huntsmen, who, no doubt, will be watching for me.'</p> + +<p>"He sighed heavily, and the Princess's heart grew very sad.</p> + +<p>"'I have little more than an hour left,' he said.</p> + +<p>"'Yes,' said the Princess, 'sleep if you can; I will not disturb you.'</p> + +<p>"And when she saw that he had fallen asleep she went into the other +room, where in a corner lay the bull's skin, which the Prince had +dragged behind him from the spot where it had fallen off as the sun +sank.</p> + +<p>"The Princess looked at it with a fierce expression, very different to +the usual gentle look in her pretty eyes.</p> + +<p>"'Hateful thing!' she said, giving it a kick with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>her little foot; 'I +wonder how I could get rid of you. Even if the Prince did risk never +seeing me again, I am not sure but that it would be better for him than +to lead this dreadful life.'</p> + +<p>"And as her fancy pictured her poor Prince forced in this monstrous +disguise to wander about all night tired and shelterless, her +indignation rose beyond her control. She forgot where she was, she +forgot the magic power that surrounded her, she forgot everything except +her distress and anxiety.</p> + +<p>"'Hateful thing!' she repeated, giving the skin another kick; 'I wish +you were burnt to cinders.'</p> + +<p>"Hardly had she said the words when a sudden noise like a clap of +thunder shook the air; a flash of lightning seemed to glance past her +and alight on the skin, which in an instant shrivelled up to a cinder +like a burnt glove. Too startled at first to know whether she should +rejoice or not, the Princess gazed at her work in bewilderment, when a +voice of anguish, but, alas! a well-known voice, made her turn round. It +was the Prince, hastening from the palace with an expression half of +anger half of sorrowful reproach on his face.</p> + +<p>"'O Princess, Princess,' he cried, 'what have you done? But a little +more patience and all might <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>have been well. And now I know not if I +shall ever see you again.'</p> + +<p>"'O Prince, forgive me, I did not mean it,' sobbed the poor Princess. 'I +<i>will</i> see you again, and all shall yet be well.'</p> + +<p>"'Seek for me across the hill of ice and the sea of glass,' said the +Prince; but almost before the words had passed his lips a second +thunderclap, louder and more terrific than the first, was heard. The +Princess sank half fainting on the ground. When she again opened her +eyes, Prince, palace, everything had disappeared. She was alone, quite +alone, on a barren moorland, night coming on, and a cold cutting wind +freezing the blood in her veins. And she was clothed in the plain black +dress with which she had made her strange journey riding on the brown +bull.</p> + +<p>"It must be a dream, she thought, a terrible dream, and she shut her +eyes again. But no, it was no dream, and soon her courage revived, and +she began to ask herself what she should do.</p> + +<p>"'Seek me beyond the hill of ice and the sea of glass,' the Prince had +said; and she rose up to begin her weary journey. As she rose her hand +came in contact with something hard in the folds of her dress; it was +her golden balls. With the greatest delight <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>she took them out of her +pocket and looked at them. They were as bright and beautiful as ever, +and the fairy's prophecy returned to the Princess's mind.</p> + +<p>"'With my balls and my ready wit I shall yet conquer the evil powers +that are against my poor Prince,' she said to herself cheerfully. +'Courage! all will be well."</p> + +<p>"But there were sore trials to go through in the first place. The +Princess set off on her journey. She had to walk many weary miles across +the moor, the cold wind blowing in her face, the rough ground pricking +her tender feet. But she walked on and on till at last the morning broke +and she saw a road before her, bordered on one side by a forest of +trees, for she had reached the extreme edge of the moor. She had gone +but a little way when she came to a small and miserable hovel, from +which issued feeble sounds of distress. The Princess went up to the door +and looked in—a very old woman sat huddled up in a corner weeping and +lamenting herself.</p> + +<p>"'What is the matter, my friend?' asked the Princess.</p> + +<p>"'Matter enough,' replied the old woman. 'I cannot light my fire, and I +am bitterly cold. Either the sticks are wet, or the strength has gone +out of my poor old arms.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Let me help you,' said the Princess. 'My arms are strong enough.'</p> + +<p>"She took the sticks and arranged them cleverly in the fireplace, and +just as she was choosing two of the driest to rub together to get a +light, one of her balls dropped out of her pocket. It fell on to the +piled-up wood, and immediately a bright flame danced up the chimney. The +Princess picked up her ball and put it back in her pocket, cheered and +encouraged by this proof of their magic power. The old woman came near +to the fire, and stretched out her withered hands to the blaze.</p> + +<p>"'What can I do for you, my pretty lady,' she said, 'in return for your +good nature?'</p> + +<p>"'Give me a cup of milk to refresh me for my journey,' said the +Princess. 'And perhaps, too, you can tell me something about my journey. +Are the hill of ice and the sea of glass anywhere in this +neighbourhood?'</p> + +<p>"The old woman smiled and nodded her head two or three times.</p> + +<p>"'Seven days must you travel,' she said, 'before you see them. At the +foot of the hill of ice lies the sea of glass. No mortal foot unaided +has ever crossed the one or ascended the other. Here, take these +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>shoes—with them you can safely walk over the sea of glass, and with +this staff you can mount the hill of ice,' and as she spoke she handed +to the Princess a pair of curiously carved wooden shoes and a short +sharp-pointed stick. The Princess took them gratefully, and would have +thanked the old woman, whom she now knew to be a fairy, but she stopped +her. "'Think not,' she said, 'that your difficulties will be over when +you have reached the summit of the hill of ice. But all I can do for you +more is to give you this nut, which you must open in your moment of +sorest perplexity.'</p> + +<p>"And as the Princess held out her hand for the nut the old woman had +disappeared.</p> + +<p>"But refreshed and encouraged the Princess left the cottage, carrying +with her her three gifts, and prepared to face all the perils of her +journey with an undaunted heart.</p> + +<p>"It would be impossible to describe all she went through during the +seven days which passed before she reached the sea of glass. She saw +some strange and wonderful sights, for in those days the world was very +different from what it is now. She was often tired and hungry, thankful +for a cup of milk or crust of bread from those she happened to meet on +the way.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> But her courage never failed her, and at last, on the morning +of the eighth day, she saw shining before her in the sunlight the great +silent sea of glass of which she had been told.</p> + +<p>"It would have been hopeless to attempt to cross it without fairy aid, +for it was polished more brightly than any mirror, and so hard that no +young Princess's bones could have borne a fall on its cruel surface. But +with the magic shoes there was less than no difficulty, for no sooner +had the Princess slipped her feet into them than they turned into +skates, and very wonderful skates, for they possessed the power of +enabling their wearer to glide along with the greatest swiftness. The +Princess had never skated in her life, and she was delighted.</p> + +<p>"'Next to flying,' she said to herself, 'nothing could be pleasanter,' +and she was almost sorry when her skim across the sea of glass was over, +and she found herself at the foot of the hill of ice.</p> + +<p>"She looked upwards with something like despair. It was a terrible +ascent to attempt, for the mountain was all but straight, so steep were +its sides of hard, clear, sparkling ice. The Princess looked at her +feet, the magic shoes had already disappeared; she looked at the staff +she still held in her hand—how could a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>stick help her up such a +mountain? and half impatiently, half hopelessly, she threw it from her. +Instantly it stretched itself out, growing wider and wider, the notches +in the wood expanding, till it had taken the shape of a roughly-made +ladder of irregular steps, hooked on to the ice by the sharp spike at +its end, and the Princess, ashamed of her discouragement, mounted up the +steps without difficulty, and as she reached the top one, of itself the +ladder pushed up before her, so that she could mount straight up without +hesitation.</p> + +<p>"She stepped forward bravely. It took a long time, even though she had +the fairy aid, and by the time she reached the top of the hill night had +fallen, and but for the light of the stars, she would not have known +where to step. A long plain stretched before her—no trees or bushes +even broke the wide expanse. There was no shelter of any kind, and the +Princess found herself obliged to walk on and on, for the wind was very +cold, and she dared not let herself rest. This night and the next day +were the hardest part of all the journey, and seemed even more so, +because the Princess had hoped that the sea of glass and the hill of ice +were to be the worst of her difficulties. More than once she was tempted +to crack the nut, the last <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>of the old woman's presents, but she +refrained, saying to herself she might yet be in greater need, and she +walked on and on, though nearly dead with cold and fatigue, till late in +the afternoon. Then at last, far before her still, she saw gleaming the +lights of a city, and, encouraged by the sight, she gathered her courage +together and pressed on, till, at the door of a little cottage at the +outskirts of the town, she sank down with fatigue. An old woman, with a +kind face, came out of the house and invited her to enter and rest.</p> + +<p>"'You look sorely tired, my child,' she said. 'Have you travelled far?'</p> + +<p>"'Ah yes!' replied the poor Princess, 'very far. I am nearly dead with +fatigue;' and indeed she looked very miserable. Her beautiful fair hair +was all tumbled and soiled, her poor little feet were scratched and +blistered, her black dress torn and draggled—she looked far more like a +beggar-maiden than like a princess. But yet, her pretty way of speaking +and gentle manners showed she was not what she seemed, and when she had +washed her face and combed her hair, the old woman looked at her with +admiration.</p> + +<p>"'Tis a pity you have not a better dress,' she said, 'for then you could +have gone with me to see the rejoicings in the town for the marriage of +our Prince.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Is your Prince to be married to-day?' asked the Princess.</p> + +<p>"'No, not to-day—to-morrow,' said the old woman. 'But the strange thing +is that it is not yet known who is to be his bride. The Prince has only +lately returned to his home, for, for many years, he has been shut up by +a fairy spell in a beautiful palace in the north, and now that the spell +is broken and he is restored to his parents, they are anxious to see him +married. But he must still be under a spell of some kind, they say, for +though he has all that heart can wish, he is ever sad and silent, and as +if he were thinking of something far away. And he has said that he will +marry no princess but one who can catch three golden balls at a time, as +if young princesses were brought up to be jugglers! Nevertheless, all +the princesses far and wide have been practising their best at catching +balls, and to-morrow the great feasts are to begin, and she who catches +best is to be chosen out of all the princesses as the bride of our +Prince.'</p> + +<p>"The poor Princess listened with a beating heart to the old woman's +talk. There could be no doubt as to who the Prince of this country was.</p> + +<p>"'I have come but just in time,' she said to her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>self, and then she +rose, and thanking her hostess for her kindness, said she must be going.</p> + +<p>"'But where are you going, you poor child?' said the old woman. 'You +look far too tired to go farther and for two or three days all these +rejoicings will make the country unpleasant for a young girl to travel +through alone. Stay with me till you are rested.'</p> + +<p>"The Princess thanked her with tears in her eyes for her kindness. 'I +have nothing to reward you with,' she said, 'but some day I may be able +to do so' and then she thankfully accepted her offer.</p> + +<p>"'And to-morrow,' said the old woman, 'you must smarten yourself up as +well as you can, and then we shall go out to see the gay doings.'</p> + +<p>"But the Princess lay awake all night thinking what she should do to +make herself known to her faithful Prince.</p> + +<p>"The next day the old woman went out early to hear all about the +festivities. She came back greatly excited.</p> + +<p>"'Come quickly,' she said. 'The crowd is so great that no one will +notice your poor clothes. And, indeed, among all the pretty girls there +will be none prettier than you,' she added, looking admiringly at the +Princess, who had arranged her beautiful hair <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>and brushed her soiled +dress, and who looked sweeter than ever now that she was rested and +refreshed. 'There are three princesses who have come to the feast,' she +went on, 'the first from the south, the second from the east, the third +from the west, each more beautiful than another, the people say. The +trial of the golden balls is to be in the great hall of the palace, and +a friend of mine has promised me a place at one of the windows which +overlook it, so that we can see the whole;' and the Princess, feeling as +if she were in a dream, rose up to accompany the old woman, her balls +and her precious nut in her pocket.</p> + +<p>"They made their way through the crowd and placed themselves at the +window, as the old woman had said. The Princess looked down at the great +hall below, all magnificently decorated and already filled with +spectators. Suddenly the trumpet sounded, and the Prince in whose honour +was all the rejoicing entered. At sight of him—her own Prince indeed, +but looking so strangely pale and sad that she would hardly have +recognised him—the Princess could not restrain a little cry.</p> + +<p>"'What is it?' said the old woman.</p> + +<p>"'A passer-by trod on my foot,' said the Princess, fearful of attracting +attention. And the old woman <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>said no more, for at this moment another +blast of trumpets announced the arrival of the princesses, who were to +make the trial of the balls. The first was tall and dark, with raven +tresses and brilliant, flashing eyes. She was dressed in a robe of rich +maize colour, and as she took her place on the dais she looked round +her, as if to say, 'Who can compete with me in beauty or in skill?' And +she was the Princess of the south.</p> + +<p>"The second was also tall, and her hair was of a deep rich brown, and +her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks rosy. She was dressed in bright +pink, and laughed as she came forward, as if sure of herself and her +attractions. And she was the Princess of the east.</p> + +<p>"The third moved slowly, and as if she cared little what was thought of +her, so confident was she of her pre-eminence. She wore a blue robe, and +her face was pale and her eyes cold, though beautiful. And her hair had +a reddish tinge, but yet she too was beautiful. And she was the Princess +of the west.</p> + +<p>"The Prince bowed low to each, but no smile lit up his grave face, and +his glance rested but an instant on each fair Princess as she +approached.</p> + +<p>"'Are these ladies all?' he asked, in a low voice, as if expecting yet +more. And when the answer <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>came, 'Yes, these are all,' a still deeper +melancholy settled on his face, and he seemed indifferent to all about +him.</p> + +<p>"Then the trial began. The Prince had three golden balls, one of which +he offered to each Princess. They took them, and each threw one back to +him. Then one after another, as quick as lightning, he threw all three +to the yellow Princess. She caught them all and threw them back; again +he returned them, but the first only, reached her hand, the second and +third fell to the ground, and with another low bow the Prince turned +from her, and her proud face grew scarlet with anger. The pink Princess +fared no better. She was laughing so, as if to show her confidence, that +she missed the third ball, even at the first throw, and when the Prince +turned also from her she laughed again, though this time her laughter +was not all mirth. Then the cold blue Princess came forward. She caught +the balls better, but at the third throw, one of them rising higher than +the others, she would not trouble herself to stretch her arm out +farther, so it fell to the ground, and as the Prince turned from her +likewise, a great silence came over the crowd.</p> + +<p>"Suddenly a cry arose. 'A fourth Princess,' the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>people shouted, and the +old woman up at the window was so eager to see the new-comer that she +did not notice that her companion had disappeared. She had watched the +failure of the two first Princesses, then seeing what was coming she had +quietly made her way through the crowd to a hidden corner behind the +great pillars of the hall. There, her hands trembling with eagerness, +she drew forth from the magic nut, which she had cracked with her pretty +teeth, a wonderful fairy robe of spotless white. In an instant her black +dress was thrown to her feet, and the white garment, which fitted her as +if by magic, had taken its place. Never was Princess dressed in such a +hurry, but never was toilette more successful. And as the cry arose of +'A fourth Princess' she made her way up the hall. From one end to the +other she came, rapidly making her way through the crowd, which cleared +before her in surprise and admiration, for as she walked she threw +before her, catching them ever as she went, her golden balls. Her fair +hair floated on her shoulders, her white robe gleamed like snow, her +sweet face, flushed with hope and eagerness, was like that of a happy +child, her eyes saw nothing but the one figure standing at the far end +of the hall, the figure of the Prince, who, as the cry <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>reached his +ears, started forward with a hope he hardly dared encourage, holding out +his hands as she came nearer and yet nearer in joyfulness of welcome.</p> + +<p>"But she waved him back—then, taking her place where the other +Princesses had stood, she threw her balls, one, two, three; in an +instant they were caught by the Prince, and returned to her like flashes +of lightning over and over again, never failing, never falling, as if +attached by invisible cords, till at last a great cry arose from the +crowds, and the Prince led forward, full in the view of the people, his +beautiful bride, his true Princess.</p> + +<p>"Then all her troubles were forgotten, and every one rejoiced, save +perhaps the three unsuccessful Princesses, who consoled themselves by +saying there was magic in it, and so possibly there was. But there is +more than one kind of magic, and some kinds, it is to be hoped, the +world will never be without. And messengers were sent to summon to the +wedding the father and mother of the Princess, who all this time had +been in doubt and anxiety as to the fate of their dear child. And the +kind old woman who had sheltered her in her poverty and distress was not +forgotten."</p> + +<p>The voice stopped—for a minute or two the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>children sat silent, not +sure if they were to hear anything else. Strangely enough, as the story +went on, it seemed more and more as if it were Marcelline's voice that +was telling it, and at last Hugh looked up to see if it was still the +white lady, whose knee his head was resting on. Jeanne too looked up at +the same moment, and both children gave a little cry of surprise. The +white lady had disappeared, and it was indeed Marcelline who was in her +place. The white room, the white chairs, the white cats, the +spinning-wheel, and the pointed windows, had all gone, and instead there +was old Marcelline with her knitting-needles gently clicking in a +regular way, that somehow to Hugh seemed mixed up with his remembrance +of the soft whirr of the wheel, her neatly frilled cap round her face, +and her bright dark eyes smiling down at the children. Hugh felt so +sorry and disappointed that he shut his eyes tight and tried to go on +dreaming, if indeed dreaming it was. But it was no use. He leant his +face against Marcelline's soft white apron and tried to fancy it the +fairy lady's fairy robe; but it was no use. He had to sit up and look +about him.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Marcelline, "and didn't you like the story?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hugh looked at Jeanne. It couldn't be a dream then—there <i>had</i> been a +story, for if he had been asleep, of course he couldn't have heard it. +He said nothing, however—he waited to see what Jeanne would say. Jeanne +tossed back her head impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Of course I liked it," she said. "It's a beautiful story. But, +Marcelline, how did you turn into yourself—<i>was</i> it you all the time? +Why didn't you leave us with the white lady?"</p> + +<p>Hugh was so pleased at what Jeanne said that he didn't mind a bit about +Marcelline having taken the place of the white lady. Jeanne was the same +as he was—that was all he cared about. He jumped up eagerly—they were +in Jeanne's room, close to the fire, and both Jeanne and he had their +little red flannel dressing-gowns on.</p> + +<p>"How did these come here?" he said, touching the sleeve of his own one.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Jeanne. "And where are our wings, if you please, Mrs. +Marcelline?"</p> + +<p>Marcelline only smiled.</p> + +<p>"I went to fetch you," she said, "and of course I didn't want you to +catch cold on the way back."</p> + +<p>But that was <i>all</i> they could get her to say, and then she carried them +off to bed, and they both slept soundly till morning.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="300" height="88" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>DUDU'S OLD STORY.</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="It was not a story"> +<tr><td align='left'>"It was not a story, however,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">But just of old days that had been."</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">C</span><span class="smcap">hild Nature.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>It was queer, but so it was. The children said very little to each other +the next day of their new adventures. Only Hugh felt satisfied that this +time little Jeanne had forgotten nothing; daylight Jeanne and moonlight +Jeanne were the same. Yet he had a feeling that if he said much about +it, if he persisted in trying to convince Jeanne that he had been right +all through, he might spoil it all. It would be like seizing the fairy +lady's cobweb threads roughly, and spoiling them, and finding you had +nothing left. He felt now quite content to let it all be like a pretty +dream which they both knew about, but which was not for everyday life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> + +<p>Only one impression remained on his mind. He got the greatest wish to +learn to throw balls like the princess of the Brown Bull story, and for +some days every time they went out, he kept peering in at the toy-shop +windows to see if such a thing as golden balls was to be had. And at +last Jeanne asked him what he was always looking for, and then he told +her.</p> + +<p>She agreed with him that golden balls would be a very pretty play, but +she was afraid such a thing could not be found.</p> + +<p>"They were fairy balls, you know, Chéri," she said, gravely.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Hugh replied, "he knew they were; he did not expect such balls as +they were, of course, but still he didn't see why they might not get +some sort of gold-looking balls. There were red and blue, and green ones +in plenty. He didn't see why there should be no gold ones."</p> + +<p>"Gold is so very dear," said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"Yes, real gold is, of course," said Hugh; "but there are lots of things +that look like gold that can't be real gold—picture frames, and the +edges of books, and lots of other things."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Jeanne, "but still, I don't see that the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>stuff any of those +are made of would do to make balls of."</p> + +<p>However, she joined Hugh in the search, and many a day when they were +out they peeped together not only into the toy-shops, but into the +windows of the queer old curiosity shops, of which, in the ancient town +which was Jeanne's home, there were many. And at last one day they told +Marcelline what it was they were so anxious to find. She shook her head. +There was no such toy in <i>this</i> country, she said, but she did not laugh +at them, or seem to think them silly. And she advised them to be content +with the prettiest balls they <i>could</i> get, which were of nice smooth +buff-coloured leather, very well made, and neither too soft nor too +hard. And in the sunlight, said Jeanne, they really had rather a shiny, +goldy look.</p> + +<p>For several days to come these balls were a great interest to the +children. Early and late they were practising at them, and, with +patience and perseverance, they before long arrived at a good deal of +skill. Jeanne was the quicker in the first place, but Hugh was so +patient that he soon equalled her, and then the interest grew still +greater.</p> + +<p>"I really think, Chéri," said Jeanne, one evening, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>when they had been +playing for a good while, "I really think our balls are <i>getting</i> to be +rather like fairy ones. Every day they go better and better."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it is our hands that are getting to be like fairy ones," said +Hugh. "But it is growing too dark to see to play any more."</p> + +<p>They were playing in the tapestry room, for Marcelline had told them +they would have more space there, as it was large, and Hugh's little bed +in the corner did not take up much room. It was getting dusk, for the +days were not yet very long, though winter was almost over, and they had +been playing a good while. As Hugh spoke he gave the last ball a final +throw high up in the air, higher than usual, for though Jeanne sprang +forward to catch it, she missed it somehow. It dropped to the ground +behind her.</p> + +<p>"O Chéri!" she cried, reproachfully, "that is the first time I have +missed. Oh dear, where can the ball have gone to?"</p> + +<p>She stooped down to look for it, and in a minute Hugh was down beside +her. They felt all about, creeping on their hands and knees, but the +missing ball was not to be so easily found.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 256px;"><a name="new" id="new"></a> +<img src="images/9.png" width="256" height="400" alt="'IS THIS A NEW PART OF THE HOUSE?'—p. 201." title="'IS THIS A NEW PART OF THE HOUSE?'—p. 201." /> +<span class="caption">'IS THIS A NEW PART OF THE HOUSE?'—<a href='#Page_201'>p. 201</a></span> +</div> + +<p>"It must have got behind the tapestry," said Hugh, pulling back as he +spoke, a corner of the hang<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>ings close to where he and Jeanne were, +which seemed loose. And at the same moment both children gave a little +cry of astonishment. Instead of the bare wall which they expected to +see, or to feel rather, behind the tapestry, a flight of steps met their +view—a rather narrow flight of steps running straight upwards, without +twisting or turning, and lighted from above by a curious hanging lamp, +hanging by long chains from a roof high up, which they could not see.</p> + +<p>"Why, is this a new part of the house?" cried Hugh. "Jeanne, did you +know there were stairs behind the tapestry?"</p> + +<p>"No, of course not," said Jeanne. "It must be a part of our house, I +suppose, but I never saw it before. Shall we go up, Chéri, and see where +it takes us to? Perhaps it's another way to the white lady's turret, and +she'll tell us another story."</p> + +<p>"No," said Hugh, "I don't believe it leads to her turret, and I don't +think we could find our way there again. She seemed to mean we could +never go again, I think. But we may as well go up this stair, and see +what we do find, Jeanne."</p> + +<p>And just at that moment a funny thing happened. They heard a little +noise, and looking up, there—hopping down the stair before them, step +by step, as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>if some one had started it from the top, came the lost +ball, or what the children thought the lost ball, for with an +exclamation Hugh darted forward to pick it up, and held it out to +Jeanne. But Jeanne looked at it with astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Why, Chéri," she cried, "it's turned into gold."</p> + +<p>So it was, or at least into something which looked just like it.</p> + +<p>"Chéri," Jeanne went on, her eyes dancing with excitement, "I do believe +this is another way into Fairyland, or into some other queer place like +what we've seen. Come on, quick."</p> + +<p>The children seized hold of each other's hands, and hurried up the +stair. The steps were easier to mount than those of the corkscrew +staircase up to the white lady's turret, and very soon the children +found themselves at the top of the first flight. There, looking upwards, +they could see the roof. It was a sort of cupola; the chains from which +the lamps hung were fastened to the centre, but the rest of the roof was +of glass, and through it the children saw the sky, already quite dark, +and with innumerable stars dotting its surface.</p> + +<p>"Come on, Chéri," said Jeanne; "I believe this stair leads out on to the +roof of the house."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> + +<p>So it did. A door at the top opened as they ran up the last steps, and a +familiar figure stepped out.</p> + +<p>"Dudu!" exclaimed Jeanne, in a tone of some disappointment.</p> + +<p>"Did you not expect to see me?" said the raven. "Why, I thought it would +amuse you to come up here and see the stars."</p> + +<p>"So it will," said Hugh, anxious to make up for Jeanne's abruptness. +"But, you see, we thought—at least we hoped—we should find some new +adventures up here, especially when the ball hopped down the stairs, all +gold."</p> + +<p>"What did you expect?" said Dudu, cocking his head. "Fairies, I suppose, +or enchanted princesses, or something of that kind. What creatures +children are for wonders, to be sure."</p> + +<p>"Now, Dudu," said Jeanne, "you needn't talk that way. Whether we're fond +of wonders or not, anyhow it's you that's given us them to be fond of. +It was you that sent us to the frogs' country, and all that, and it was +you that took us to hear the white lady's story. So you're not to laugh +at us, and you must find us some more adventures, now you've brought us +up here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Adventures don't grow on every tree, Mademoiselle Jeanne," remarked +Dudu.</p> + +<p>"Well, <i>Dudus</i> don't either," replied Jeanne; "but as we've got <i>you</i>, +you see, it all depends on you to get us the adventures. I know you can, +if you like."</p> + +<p>Dudu shook his head.</p> + +<p>"No," he said, "there are many things I can't do. But come out on to the +roof, we can talk there just as well."</p> + +<p>He just turned towards the door by which he had entered, and it opened +of itself. He hopped through, and the children followed him. They found +themselves, as Dudu had said, on the roof of the house, of a part of the +house, that is to say. It seemed more like the roof of a little tower or +turret.</p> + +<p>Hugh and Jeanne stood for a moment or two in silence, looking up at the +brilliant show of stars overhead. It was not cold, the air seemed +peculiarly fresh and sweet, as if it were purer and finer than that +lower down.</p> + +<p>"It's rather nice up here, eh?" said Dudu.</p> + +<p>"Yes, very," replied Hugh. "We're very much obliged to you for bringing +us up here. Aren't we, Jeanne?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes," said Jeanne, "not counting fairies and adventures that's to say, +it's very nice up here."</p> + +<p>"I often come up here at night," said Dudu. "I wonder how many thousand +times I've been up here."</p> + +<p>"Are you so very old, Dudu?" said Jeanne, "as old as the white lady?"</p> + +<p>"I daresay," said Dudu, vaguely—he seemed to be thinking to himself. +"Yes," he continued, cocking his head on one side, "I suppose I am what +<i>you</i> would call very old, though the white lady would consider me quite +a baby. Yes, I've seen queer things in my time."</p> + +<p>"<i>What?</i>" said the children both together, eagerly, "oh, do tell us some +of them. If you would tell us a story, Dudu, it would be as nice as an +adventure."</p> + +<p>"Stories," said Dudu, "are hardly in my line. I might tell you a little +of some things I've seen, but I don't know that they would interest +you."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes! oh yes!" cried the children, "of course they would. And it's so +nice and warm up here, Dudu—much warmer than in the house."</p> + +<p>"Sit down, then," said Dudu, "here, in this corner. You can lean against +the parapet,"—for a low wall ran round the roof—"and look at the stars +while you <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>listen to me. Well—one day, a good long while ago you would +consider it, no doubt——"</p> + +<p>"Was it a hundred years ago?" interrupted Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"About that, I daresay," said the raven carelessly. "I cannot be quite +exact to twenty or thirty years, or so. Well, one day—it was a very hot +day, I remember, and I had come up here for a little change of air—I +was standing on the edge of the parapet watching our two young ladies +who were walking up and down the terrace path down there, and thinking +how nice they looked in their white dresses and blue sashes tied close +up under their arms, like the picture of your great-grandmother as a +young girl, in the great salon, Mademoiselle Jeanne."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I know it," said Jeanne. "She has a nice face, but <i>I</i> don't +think her dress is at all pretty, Dudu."</p> + +<p>"And I don't suppose your great-grandmother would think yours at all +pretty, either, Mademoiselle Jeanne," said Dudu, with the queer sort of +croak which he used for a laugh. "It is one of the things that has +amazed me very much in my observations—the strange fancies the human +race has about clothes. Of course you are not so fortunate as we are in +having them ready-made, but still I cannot understand why <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>you don't do +the best you can—adopt a pattern and keep to it always. It would be the +next best thing to having feathers, <i>I</i> should say."</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," said Jeanne. "It would be very stupid every morning +when you got up, and every time you were going out, or friends coming to +see you, or anything like that—it would be <i>very</i> stupid never to have +to think, 'What shall I put on?' or to plan what colours would look nice +together. There would hardly be any use in having shops or dressmakers, +or anything. And <i>certainly</i>, Monsieur Dudu, I wouldn't choose to be +dressed like you, never anything but black—as if one were always going +to a funeral."</p> + +<p>"It is all a matter of taste, Mademoiselle," replied Dudu, so amiably +that Hugh wondered more and more at his politeness to Jeanne, who was +certainly not very civil to him. "For my part, I confess I have always +had a great fancy for white—the force of contrast, I suppose—and this +brings me back to telling you how very nice your great-grandmother and +her sister looked that day walking up and down the terrace path in their +white dresses."</p> + +<p>"My great-grandmother!" exclaimed Jeanne. "Why, you said 'our young +ladies.'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So they were our young ladies," replied Dudu. "Even though one was your +great-grandmother, Mademoiselle, and not yours only but Monsieur Chéri's +too, and the other, of course, your great-grand-aunt. There have been +many 'our young ladies' that I can remember in this house, which has so +long been the home of one family, and my home always. In three or four +hundred years one sees a good deal. Ah yes! Well, as I was saying, I was +standing on the edge of the parapet looking over at the young ladies, +and admiring them and the sunshine and the flowers in the garden all at +once, when I suddenly heard a window open. It was not one of the windows +of our house. I have very quick ears, and I knew that in an instant, so +I looked about to see what window it was. In those days there were not +quite so many houses behind our garden as there are now. Your +great-great-grandfather sold some of the land about that time, and then +houses were built, but just then there were only two or three that +overlooked one side of the garden. One of them was a large high house, +which was let in flats to various families, often visitors to the town, +or strangers who had come for a short time for the education of their +children, or some other reason. It was not long before I discovered +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>that the window I had heard open was in this house. It was one on the +second story, looking on to a little balcony which at one end was not +very high above the terrace walk. I watched to see who had opened the +window, and in a few moments I saw peeping out half timidly the pretty +fair face of a little girl. Quite a little girl she was, not much older +than you, Mademoiselle Jeanne, but not like you, for she had light hair +and soft blue eyes, and a fair face like Monsieur Chéri. She was a +little English girl. She peeped out, and then, seeing that no one was +observing her, she came quietly on to the balcony, and, creeping down +into a corner where she could scarcely be seen, she sat watching our two +pretty young ladies with all her eyes. No wonder, I thought; they were +very pretty young ladies, and it was nice to see them together, walking +up and down with arms intertwined, and talking eagerly, their talk +sometimes interrupted by merry bursts of soft girlish laughter. And all +the time the lonely little creature on the balcony sat and watched them +longingly, her little pale face pressed against the bars, her plain +black dress almost hiding her from notice.</p> + +<p>"'How happy they look, those pretty young ladies,' the lonely little +girl said to herself. 'How happy I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>should be if I had a sister, for I +have no one to talk to, no one to kiss me and play with me and if ever I +say I am sad my aunt is angry. O mother! why did you go away and leave +me?'"</p> + +<p>"Could you hear all that from up here on the roof?" said Jeanne. "Dear +me, Dudu, you must have good ears."</p> + +<p>"Of course I have; I told you so, Mademoiselle," said Dudu drily. "I had +better ears than your great-grandmother and her sister, for they heard +nothing, not even when the poor little girl took courage to push her +face farther forward between the railings, and to say very softly and +timidly,</p> + +<p>"'Mesdemoiselles, Mesdemoiselles, <i>might</i> I come and walk with you? I am +so tired of being here all alone.'</p> + +<p>"They did not hear her. They were talking too busily about the fête of +their mother, I think, which was to be in a few days, and of what they +were to prepare for her. And the poor little girl sat up there for more +than an hour watching them with longing eyes, but not daring to call out +more loudly. It made me quite melancholy to see her, and when at last +our young ladies went in, and she had to give up hopes of gaining their +attention, it made me more <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>melancholy still, she looked so +disappointed, and her eyes were full of tears; and I felt quite upset +about her, and kept turning over in my head what I could do to make her +happier. I thought about it for some time, and at last I decided that +the first thing to do was to find out more about the little stranger and +the cause of her grief. For this purpose I stationed myself the next +morning just below the window of the kitchen of her house, which, by +hopping from the balcony, I was easily able to do, and by listening to +the conversation of the servants I soon learned all I wanted to know. +She was, as I had supposed, a little English girl. Her mother had died +in Italy but a short time before, and she was now in the charge of her +mother's aunt, an elderly and severe lady, who understood nothing about +children, and took no pains to make poor little Charlotte happy. So it +was a sad life for the child, whose father also was dead; and as from +the talk of the servants I gathered that she was a good and gentle +little girl, I felt more sorry for her than before; and as I hopped back +on to the balcony I looked to see if she was again at the window. Yes, +there she was, her face pressed against the glass, staring out in the +direction of the terrace walk, watching, no doubt, to see if our young +ladies were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>coming out again. I hopped in front of the window backwards +and forwards two or three times to catch her attention, and a smile lit +up her little pale face when she saw me.</p> + +<p>"'Good day, Mr. Raven,' she said politely. 'Have you come to see me? It +is very kind of you if you have, for I have nobody to play with. But, +oh! if you could tell those pretty young ladies how I should like to +walk about their garden with them, how pleased I should be.'</p> + +<p>"I bowed to her in token of understanding what she said, but I was not +sure that she noticed it, for she just went on chattering in her soft +little voice.</p> + +<p>"'Poor old raven,' she said. 'What a pity you can't speak, for if you +could I might send a message by you to those pretty young ladies;' and +though I walked slowly backwards and forwards on the balcony, and bowed +most politely each time I passed her, yet she did not seem to +understand."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you speak?" interrupted Jeanne. "You can speak quite well to +Chéri and me. Had you not learned to speak at that time, Dudu?"</p> + +<p>The raven hemmed and hawed and cleared his throat.</p> + +<p>"It is not to the point, Mademoiselle," he said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> "to enter into all +these explanations. If you would have the goodness to let me continue my +reminiscences without interrupting me, I should really be obliged. I +warned you I had not any amusing stories to tell, merely recollections +of scenes in my past life. If you would prefer my leaving off, you have +only to say so."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, no. Please go on," exclaimed Jeanne, seeing that the raven was +really ruffled. "I think it's <i>very</i> interesting, and I'll promise not +to interrupt you any more."</p> + +<p>"Well," continued Dudu, "I bowed, as I told you, very politely two or +three times, and at last I hopped away, still revolving in my mind how I +could serve the poor little girl. That afternoon our young ladies came +again on to the terrace, but they did not stay long, and the little girl +was not to be seen on the balcony, though I daresay she was peering out +through the window to see as far as she could. And the next day and the +day after were very rainy, so there was nothing I could do. But after +that again there came a very fine day—a beautiful sunny day it was, I +remember it well—and our young ladies came out like the flowers and the +birds to enjoy it. Out, too, came the forlorn little black figure, +hiding itself as before <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>behind the railings of the balcony, but looking +with longing eyes at the garden below, which to her must have seemed a +kind of Paradise. I directed my steps to the terrace, and walked slowly +in front of the young ladies, slowly and solemnly straight in front of +them, for I wanted to attract their attention.</p> + +<p>"'How particularly solemn Dudu looks to-day,' said one of them to the +other.</p> + +<p>"'Yes,' she replied, 'quite as if he had something on his mind. Have you +been doing anything naughty, Dudu?'</p> + +<p>"I turned and looked at her reproachfully. I was not offended, I knew +she was only joking, my character stood far above any imputation; but +still, there are subjects on which jokes are better avoided, and there +<i>was</i> a cousin of mine whose honesty, I am sorry to say, had been more +than once suspected; altogether, I hardly thought the remark in good +taste, and Mademoiselle Eliane was not slow to perceive it.</p> + +<p>"'Poor old Dudu,' she cried; 'have I hurt your feelings? But tell me +what are you looking so solemn about?'</p> + +<p>"I looked at her again, and then, sure that she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>and her sister were +both watching me with attention, I sprang up the side of the wall next +the little stranger's house, hopped over the balcony railings, and +finding, as I expected, my little friend crouched down in the corner, I +gave a loud, sharp croak, as if something were the matter. Charlotte +started up in a fright, and the young ladies, watching me curiously, for +the first time observed her little figure.</p> + +<p>"'Why, Dudu has a friend up there!' exclaimed Mademoiselle Jeanne—your +great-grandmother, my dears. 'Mademoiselle,' she called out to the +little girl, whose small black figure did not look very much bigger than +mine as we stood up there side by side; 'Mademoiselle, do not be +frightened of our old raven. He will not hurt you.'</p> + +<p>"'I am not frightened, thank you,' said the little girl's gentle voice. +'He has been to see me before. I was only startled when he made that +funny noise. But O Mesdemoiselles,' she continued, clasping her hands in +entreaty, 'you do not know how I should like to come down into your +garden and play with you, or at least,' as she suddenly recollected that +such tall young ladies were rather past the age for mere 'playing,' +'walk about and talk with you. I have watched you so many days, and I am +so lonely.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> But I did not like to speak to you unless you spoke to me.'</p> + +<p>"'We never saw you,' said Mademoiselle Eliane. 'We should have seen you +now but for the funny way Dudu has been going on, as if he wanted to +introduce us to each other.'</p> + +<p>"I felt quite proud when Mademoiselle Eliane said that. It has always +been a gratification to me to find myself understood. And I felt still +prouder when the little girl replied, looking at me gratefully,</p> + +<p>"'How nice of him! He must have understood what I said to him in fun the +other day. But O Mesdemoiselles,' she went on, '<i>may</i> I come down to +you?'</p> + +<p>"'How can you get down?' said Mademoiselle Jeanne; 'and are you sure your +mother would not mind?'</p> + +<p>"'I have no mother,' said the little girl sadly, 'and my aunt would not +mind, I know. She never minds what I do, if I don't make a noise.'</p> + +<p>"'But how can you get down?' repeated Mademoiselle Jeanne, 'unless Dudu +can take you on his back and fly with you!'</p> + +<p>"'Oh, I can easily get down,' said the little girl; 'I have often +planned it. I can climb over the rail<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>ings at this end—look, there is a +jutting-out ledge that I can put my foot on. Then I can stand a minute +outside and jump—if you will come close to, so that I shall not roll +down the terrace bank.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="300" height="88" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>AU REVOIR.</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="One after another they flew away"> +<tr><td align='left'>"One after another they flew away</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Far up to the heavenly blue,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">To the better country, the upper day——"</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 11.5em;">J</span><span class="smcap">ean Ingelow.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>"Little Charlotte climbed over the railings," continued Dudu, "but she +did not jump down on the other side, for Mademoiselle Eliane, who was +tall, found that by standing half-way up the bank she could reach the +child and hand her down to Mademoiselle Jeanne, a little way below. +There was a good deal of laughing over it all, and this helped them to +make friends more quickly than anything else would have done. But indeed +Charlotte was not a shy child, she had travelled too much and seen too +many people to be so, and our young ladies, besides, were so kind and +merry that no little girl could long have been strange with them. She +ran about the garden <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>in the greatest delight; her new friends showed +her all their favourite nooks, and allowed her to make a bouquet of the +flowers she liked best; and when they were tired of standing about they +all sat down together on a bank, and Charlotte told to the young ladies +the story of her short life. It was a sad little story; her father had +died when she was very young, and her mother, whose health had never +been good after the shock of his death, had gone to Italy with the aunt +who had brought her up, in hopes of growing stronger. But through two or +three years of sometimes seeming better and sometimes worse, she had +really been steadily failing, and at last she died, leaving her poor +little girl almost alone, 'for the old aunt was now,' said Charlotte, +'always ill, and not ill as mamma used to be,' she added, for however +tired <i>she</i> was, she always liked her little girl to be beside her, and +never wearied of listening to all she had to say.</p> + +<p>"'But now,' said the child, 'I am always alone, and it is <i>so</i> sad. And +I have watched you so often from the balcony, and wished I might come +down to you. And now, if you will let me come to see you every day, I +shall be <i>so</i> happy.'</p> + +<p>"She was a dear little girl, so sweet, and simple, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>and loving. She +quite gained our young ladies' hearts with her pretty ways and her funny +little English, accent. They kissed her on both cheeks, and told her +they would be very pleased for her to come to them in the garden +whenever she saw them from the balcony, as she was so sure her aunt +would not object to it. They could not invite her to the house, they +explained, unless their mother and her aunt had made acquaintance. Of +course it would not have done, as little Charlotte quite understood; for +in those days," Dudu observed in passing, "politeness and ceremony were +much more observed than is at present, I am sorry to say, the case.</p> + +<p>"The little English girl, however," he went on, "was only too delighted +to have received permission to visit them in their garden. And not many +days passed on which she did not join them there. It was a lovely summer +that year—I remember it so well. Never now does the sun seem to me to +shine quite so brightly as in those days. Perhaps it is that I am +growing old, perhaps the sad days that soon after followed left a cloud +on my memory and a mist on my spirit which have never since entirely +cleared away; however that may be, I never remember so bright and +beautiful a summer as the one I am telling <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>you of. And little +Charlotte's merry laugh was often heard on the terrace walk, as she ran +races with Mademoiselle Eliane's dog, or made daisy wreaths for +Mademoiselle Jeanne's dark hair. Kindness and companionship were all she +required to make her a bright and happy child. But the pleasant summer +faded, and with the first autumn days came a fresh sorrow for the little +girl. One morning, before the usual time for meeting in the garden, I +caught sight of her on the balcony, her face looking again like the +little pale Charlotte I had first known her, her eyes red with weeping. +And as by good chance the young ladies came out soon the reason was soon +explained.</p> + +<p>"'I am going away, my dear young ladies,' cried Charlotte, as she threw +herself into their arms. 'My aunt has just told me. We return to England +in a few days. To England, where I have no friends, where I shall be +again all alone. O Mademoiselle Eliane! O Mademoiselle Jeanne! what +shall I do without you, and your pretty garden, and your kindness, and +poor old Dudu, and the flowers, and everything?'</p> + +<p>"They consoled her as well as they could, my kind young ladies, whose +hearts were always full of sympathy. But the tears came to their own +eyes <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>when they saw how real and acute was the little girl's grief.</p> + +<p>"'You will come back to see us again, little Charlotte, perhaps,' they +said. 'Your aunt has travelled so much, very likely she will not wish to +remain always in England. And you would always find us here—in the +winter at any rate; generally in the summer we spend some months at our +château, though this summer our father had business which obliged him to +stay here. But for that we should not have seen you so much.'</p> + +<p>"But Charlotte was not to be consoled. Her aunt, she was sure, would +never travel any more. She had said only that very morning, that once +she got back to England she would stay there for the rest of her life, +she was too old to move about any more.</p> + +<p>"'And I,' added Charlotte, with a fresh burst of weeping, 'I am to be +sent to an English school as soon as aunt can settle about it.'</p> + +<p>"'But you will be happier at school, dear,' said Mademoiselle Eliane. +'You will have friends of your own age.'</p> + +<p>"'I don't want friends of my own age. I shall never love <i>any</i> friends +as much as my dear Mademoiselle Jeanne and my dear Mademoiselle +Eliane,'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> sobbed Charlotte; and the only thing that consoled her at all +was when the two young ladies found for her among their little treasures +a very prettily painted 'bonbonnière,' and a quaint little workcase, +fitted with thimble, scissors, and all such things, which she promised +them she would always keep, <i>always</i>, as souvenirs of their kindness.</p> + +<p>"And in return, the poor little thing went out with her aunt's maid the +next morning and bought two little keepsakes—a scent-bottle for +Mademoiselle Jeanne, and a fan for Mademoiselle Eliane. She spent on +them all the money she had; and at this very moment," added Dudu, "the +scent-bottle is downstairs in your mother's large old dressing-case, the +dressing-case she got from her grandfather. What became of the fan I +cannot say.</p> + +<p>"Well, the few remaining days passed, and one cold, dreary morning poor +Charlotte clambered over the railings for the last time, to embrace her +friends and bid them farewell. She might have come in by the door and +seen them in the salon; of course neither her aunt nor our young ladies' +mother would have objected to such a thing, as she was going away, even +though no visits of ceremony had been exchanged between the families. +But this would not have <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>suited Charlotte; it was in the garden she had +first seen her friends, and in the garden must she bid them good-bye. I +assisted at the interview," continued Dudu, "and very touching it was. +Had I been of a nature to shed tears, I really think my feelings would +have been too much for me. And Charlotte would have kissed and hugged me +too, no doubt, had I encouraged anything of the kind. But, fortunately +perhaps for the preservation of my feathers and my dignity, I am not, +and never have been, of a demonstrative disposition."</p> + +<p>Dudu cleared his throat and stopped to rest for a moment. Then he +continued—</p> + +<p>"The parting was over at last, and little Charlotte was away—quite away +over the sea in cold, rainy England. Cold and rainy it must have been +that winter in any case, for it was cold and rainy even here, and many +changes happened, and shadows of strange events were already faintly +darkening the future. It was the next year that our pretty Mademoiselle +Jeanne married and went away with her husband from the old house, which +yet was to be her home, and the home of her children in the end, for +Mademoiselle Eliane never married, and so all came to be inherited by +her sister's sons. But with that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>we have nothing to do at present. I +wished only to tell you what concerns our young ladies' friendship with +the little stranger. Years went on, as they always do, whether they +leave the world happy or miserable, and the shadows I have told you of +grew darker and darker. Then, at last, the terrible days began—the +storm burst forth, our happy, peaceful home, with hundreds and thousands +of others, was broken up, and its kindly inhabitants forced to flee. +Mademoiselle Jeanne came hurrying up from her husband's home, where +things were even worse than with us, with her boys, to seek for shelter +and safety, which, alas! could not be given her here. For all had to +flee—my poor old master, frail as he was, his delicate wife, our young +ladies, and the boys—all fled together, and after facing perils such as +I trust none of their descendants will ever know, they reached a safe +refuge. And then they had to endure a new misery, for months and months +went by before they had any tidings of poor Mademoiselle Jeanne's +husband, your great-grandfather, my children, who, like all of his +name—a name you may well be proud of, my little Mademoiselle +Jeanne—stayed at the post of danger till every hope was passed. Then at +last, in disguise, he managed to escape, and reached this place <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>in +safety, hoping here to find something to guide him as to where his wife +and children were. But he found nothing—the house was deserted, not a +servant or retainer of any kind left except myself, and what, alas! +could <i>I</i> do? He was worn out and exhausted, poor man; he hid in the +house for a few days, creeping out at dusk in fear and trembling to buy +a loaf of bread, trusting to his disguise and to his not being well +known in the town. But he would have died, I believe, had he been long +left as he was, for distress of mind added to his other miseries, not +knowing anything as to what had become of your great-grandmother and his +children.</p> + +<p>"She was a good wife," continued Dudu, after another little pause. "Our +Mademoiselle Jeanne, I mean. Just when her poor husband was losing heart +altogether, beginning to think they must all be dead, that there was +nothing left for him to do but to die too, she came to him. She had +travelled alone, quite alone, our delicate young lady—who in former +days had scarcely been allowed to set her little foot on the +pavement—from Switzerland to the old home, with a strange belief that +here if anywhere she should find him. And she was rewarded. The worst of +the terrible days were now past, but still disguise was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>necessary, and +it was in the dress of one of her own peasants—the dress in which she +had fled—that Mademoiselle Jeanne returned. But he knew her—through +all disguises he would have known her—and she him. And the first +evening they were together in the bare, deserted house, even with all +the terrors behind them, the perils before them, the husband and wife +were happy."</p> + +<p>Dudu paused again. The children, too interested to speak, listened +eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Go on, dear Dudu," whispered Jeanne at last, softly.</p> + +<p>"How were they to get away to safety? That was the question," continued +Dudu. "They dared not stay long where they were; yet they dared not go. +Monsieur was far too feeble to stand much fatigue, and the two of them +journeying together might attract notice.</p> + +<p>"'If we could get to the sea,' said Mademoiselle Jeanne—Madame I should +call her, but it never comes naturally—there we might find a ship to +take us to England or Holland, and thence find our way to our dear ones +again.'</p> + +<p>"But Monsieur shook his head. 'Impossible,' he said. 'I have not the +strength for even the four leagues' walk to the sea, and finding a ship +that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>would take us is a mere chance. We have almost no money. Here at +least we have shelter, and still some sous for bread. Jeanne, my +beloved, you must make up your mind to leave me again—alone and +unhindered you might find your way back in safety.'</p> + +<p>"'I will never leave you,' said Jeanne. 'We will die together, if it +must be so. The boys are safe—my father and mother and Eliane will care +for them. I will never leave you.'</p> + +<p>"And Monsieur said no more; but in his own mind I could see that he +thought himself fast dying, that want of comforts and nourishment much +longer would exhaust his little strength, and that his poor Jeanne +would, in the end, be forced to attempt the journey back alone. They +were sitting at the end of the terrace walk that evening—the end near +little Charlotte's balcony; it was a mild, still evening—it seemed less +dreary and miserable than in the house; from the distance came the sound +of the children playing in the old streets, and near at hand some birds +were singing still—for children will play and birds will sing whatever +happens. Suddenly a sound close at hand made Mademoiselle Jeanne look +up. And I too, for I was close beside them on the terrace, I looked up +in amazement, half imagining it must be a dream. For we <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>heard—both +Mademoiselle Jeanne and I knew it again—the sound of the window on to +the balcony opening, the window through which the little English girl +used to come out to meet her friends. We looked and could scarcely +believe our eyes. Out on to the balcony stepped a young lady, a young +girl rather she seemed, for she was tall and slight and had fair curls +about her sweet fresh face. She stood for one instant looking at us all +as if bewildered, then, with a sudden cry, almost before we knew what +she was doing, she was over the railings and down the bank.</p> + +<p>"'Mademoiselle Jeanne or Mademoiselle Eliane!' she cried, 'which of you +is it? for it is one of you, I know! And you are <i>not</i> dead—not all +dead and gone—and there is Dudu, too. Oh, how glad, how very glad, I am +that I came!'</p> + +<p>"Laughing and crying both at once, she threw herself into Madame's arms, +while Monsieur looked on in amazement.</p> + +<p>"'You know me?' she cried—'your little English Charlotte. See, here is +the bonbonnière,' feeling for it in her pocket as she spoke. 'And you +are Mademoiselle Jeanne. I know you now—if you had twenty peasant caps +on I should know you. But how thin and pale you are, my poor Jeanne!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +And is this your husband? I knew you were married. I saw it in the +newspapers ever so many years ago. Do you know it is fifteen years since +I went away? And I am married, too. But tell me first how it is you are +here and dressed like that, and why you look so sad and Monsieur so ill. +Tell me all. You may trust me, you may indeed, and perhaps my husband +and I may be able to be of some use. You may trust me,' seeing that +Madame and her husband looked at each other in bewilderment; 'may they +not, Dudu?' she added, turning to me. 'Tell Mademoiselle Jeanne that she +can indeed trust me.'</p> + +<p>"I flapped my wings and croaked.</p> + +<p>"'You see,' said Charlotte, and at that they all laughed.</p> + +<p>"'It is not that we do not trust you, my dear friend,' said Madame; 'and +indeed you see all in seeing us here as you do. There is nothing to tell +but the same sad story that has been to tell in so many once happy +French homes. But explain to me, my dear Charlotte, how you are here. It +is so strange, so extraordinary.'</p> + +<p><ins title="Transcriber's Note: opening quotation mark added">"And</ins> Charlotte explained. Her husband was a sailor. To be near him, she +had been in Spain at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>the outbreak of the revolution, and had remained +there till he was ordered home. Now that the terror was subsiding, there +was—for them, as foreigners—but little risk. She had persuaded her +husband, whose vessel, owing to some slight accident at sea, had been +obliged to put in at the neighbouring port, to let her come to have a +look at the old town, at the old house, or garden rather, she still +loved so dearly. 'The house we used to live in,' she said, 'was empty. I +easily found my way in, and out on to the balcony, as you saw. I had a +sort of wild idea that perhaps I might see or hear something of you. Yet +I was almost afraid to ask, such terrible things have happened,' added +Charlotte, with a shudder.</p> + +<p>"But nothing more terrible was in store for our young ladies, I am glad +to say," continued Dudu. "The faithful-hearted Charlotte and her husband +were able to be of the greatest service to Mademoiselle Jeanne and <i>her</i> +husband. They conveyed them in safety to the port and saw them on board +a friendly vessel, and not many weeks passed before they were again with +their children and the old Monsieur and Madame and Mademoiselle Eliane +in their home for the time in Switzerland."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how glad I am!" exclaimed Jeanne. "I was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>dreadfully afraid your +story was going to end badly, Dudu."</p> + +<p>"It is not ended yet," said Dudu.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it?" cried Jeanne. "Oh dear, then go on quick, please. I <i>hope</i> +Mademoiselle Jeanne's poor husband——"</p> + +<p>"Your great-grandfather, you mean," corrected Dudu.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well then, my great-grandfather, <i>our</i> great-grandfather, for he +was Chéri's, too, you said. I do so hope he got better. Did he, Dudu?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Dudu, "he got better, but never quite well again. However, +he lived some years, long enough to see his boys grown up and to +return—after the death of our old Monsieur and Madame—to return to his +own country with his wife and sister-in-law. But before very long, while +still far from an old man, he died. Then our young ladies, young no +longer, came back, after a time, to their childish home; and here they +lived together quietly, kind and charitable to all, cheered from time to +time by the visits of Madame's two sons, out in the world now and +married, and with homes of their own. And time went on gently and +uneventfully, and gradually Madame's hair became quite, quite white, and +Mademoiselle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> Eliane took to limping a little in her walk with the +rheumatism, and when they slowly paced up and down the terrace it was +difficult for me to think they were really my pretty young ladies with +the white dresses and blue ribbons of half a century ago. For it was now +just thirty-five years since the last visit of their English friend. She +too, if she were alive, must be a woman of more than sixty. They had +never heard of her again. In the hurry and anxiety of their last meeting +they had forgotten to ask and she to give her exact address, so they +could not write. She might have written to them to the old house +perhaps, on the chance of it finding them; but if so, they had never got +the letter. Yet they often spoke of her, and never saw the balcony at +the end of the terrace without a kindly thought of those long ago days.</p> + +<p>"One evening—an autumn evening—mild and balmy, the two old ladies were +slowly pacing up and down their favourite walk, when a servant came out +to say that they were wanted—a lady was asking for them. But not to +disturb them, he added, the visitor would be glad to see them in the +garden, if they would allow it. Wondering who it could be, Madame and +her sister were hesitating what to do, when a figure was seen +approaching them from the house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'I could not wait,' she said, almost before she reached them. 'I wished +so much to see you once more in the old spot, dear friends;' and they +knew her at once. They recognised in the bowed and worn but still sweet +and lovely woman, their pretty child-friend of fifty years ago. She had +come to bid them farewell, she said. She was on her way to the +south—not to live but to die, for she had suffered much and her days +were numbered.</p> + +<p>"'My dear husband is dead some years ago,' she said. 'But we were very +happy together, which is a blessed thought. And my children—one after +another they faded. So I am an old woman now and quite alone, and I am +glad to go to them all. My friends wished me to go to the south, for I +have always loved the sunshine, and there my little daughter died, and +perhaps death will there come to me in gentler shape. But on my way, I +wished to say good-bye to you, dear friends of long ago, whom I have +always loved, though we have been so little together.'</p> + +<p>"And then they took each other's hands, gently and quietly, the three +old ladies, and softly kissed each other's withered cheeks, down which a +few tears made their way; the time was past for them for anything but +gentle and chastened feelings. And whispering <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>to their old friend not +good-bye, but 'Au revoir, au revoir in a better country,' my ladies +parted once more with their childish friend.</p> + +<p>"She died a few months later; news of her death was sent them. <i>They</i> +lived to be old—past eighty both of them, when they died within a few +days of each other. But I never hobble up and down the terrace walk +without thinking of them," added Dudu, "and on the whole, my dears, even +if I had my choice, I don't think I should care to live another two or +three hundred years in a world where changes come so quickly."</p> + +<p>Hugh and Jeanne were silent for a moment. Then "Thank you, dear Dudu," +they said together.</p> + +<p>And Dudu cocked his head on one side. "There is Marcelline calling you," +he said, in a matter-of-fact tone. "Run downstairs. Take a look at the +beautiful stars overhead before you go. Good-bye, my dears."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Dudu, and thank you again," said the children, as they +hastened away.</p> + +<p>They found their way back to the tapestry room without difficulty. They +were standing in the middle of the room, half puzzled as to how they had +got there, when Marcelline appeared.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We have been with Dudu," they told her, before she had time to ask them +anything. "He has told us lovely stories—nicer even than fairy +adventures." And Marcelline smiled and seemed pleased, but not at all +surprised.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"A strange thing has happened," said Jeanne's father the next day. "I +feel quite distressed about it. Old Dudu the raven has disappeared. He +is nowhere to be found since yesterday afternoon, the gardener tells me. +They have looked for him everywhere in vain. I feel quite sorry—he has +been in the family so long—how long indeed I should be afraid to say, +for my father remembered him as a child."</p> + +<p>The children looked at each other.</p> + +<p>"Dudu has gone!" they said softly.</p> + +<p>"We shall have no more stories," whispered Hugh.</p> + +<p>"Nor fairy adventures," said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"He may come back again," said Hugh.</p> + +<p>"I think not," said Jeanne, shaking her smooth little black head. "Don't +you remember, Chéri, what he said about not wishing to stay here +longer?"</p> + +<p>"And he said 'good-bye,'" added Hugh sadly. "I fear he will not come +back."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> + +<p>But if he <i>ever</i> does, children dear, and if you care to hear what he +has to tell, you shall not be forgotten, I promise you.</p> + + + +<h2>THE END</h2> + + + +<div class='center'><i>Printed by</i> <span class="smcap">R. & R. Clark, Limited</span>, <i>Edinburgh</i>.</div> + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="300" height="88" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> + +<div class='tnote'><h3><span class='smallcap'>Transcriber's notes:</span></h3> + +<p>Page 170, extraneous ' removed from "She looked ..."</p> + +<p>Page 189, Double quotes changed to single quotes 'The crowd is so +great...prettier than you,'</p> + +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. +Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p></div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tapestry Room, by Mrs. Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TAPESTRY ROOM *** + +***** This file should be named 17175-h.htm or 17175-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/1/7/17175/ + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** + + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/17175-h/images/4.png b/17175-h/images/4.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a2c09d3 --- /dev/null +++ b/17175-h/images/4.png diff --git a/17175-h/images/5.png b/17175-h/images/5.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2a0d284 --- /dev/null +++ b/17175-h/images/5.png diff --git a/17175-h/images/6.png b/17175-h/images/6.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3e3f729 --- /dev/null +++ b/17175-h/images/6.png diff --git a/17175-h/images/7.png b/17175-h/images/7.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..93a72f9 --- /dev/null +++ b/17175-h/images/7.png diff --git a/17175-h/images/8.png b/17175-h/images/8.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..232212d --- /dev/null +++ b/17175-h/images/8.png diff --git a/17175-h/images/9.png b/17175-h/images/9.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..947fcab --- /dev/null +++ b/17175-h/images/9.png diff --git a/17175-h/images/divider.png b/17175-h/images/divider.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c5c3aff --- /dev/null +++ b/17175-h/images/divider.png diff --git a/17175-h/images/front.png b/17175-h/images/front.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..47e8c7f --- /dev/null +++ b/17175-h/images/front.png diff --git a/17175-h/images/title.png b/17175-h/images/title.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..816b110 --- /dev/null +++ b/17175-h/images/title.png diff --git a/17175.txt b/17175.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..adfb983 --- /dev/null +++ b/17175.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5977 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tapestry Room, by Mrs. Molesworth + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Tapestry Room + A Child's Romance + +Author: Mrs. Molesworth + +Illustrator: Walter Crane + +Release Date: November 28, 2005 [EBook #17175] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TAPESTRY ROOM *** + + + + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: TWO CHRISTMAS ANGELS.--p. 122.] + + + + +THE TAPESTRY ROOM + +A Child's Romance + +By MRS. MOLESWORTH + +AUTHOR OF 'CARROTS,' 'CUCKOO CLOCK,' 'GRANDMOTHER DEAR,' 'TELL ME A +STORY,' ETC. + +[Illustration: 'DUDU'] + + 'What tale did Iseult to the children say, + Under the hollies, that bright winter's day?' + MATTHEW ARNOLD + +ILLUSTRATED BY WALTER CRANE + +London +MACMILLAN AND CO., Limited +NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY +1899 + + + + +(By Permission.) + +TO +H.R.H. VITTORIO EMANUELE +PRINCE OF NAPLES +CROWN PRINCE OF ITALY +ONE OF THE KINDLIEST OF MY YOUNG READERS + + MAISON DU CHANOINE, + _October_ 1879. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + CHAPTER I. + PAGE + MADEMOISELLE JEAN 1 + + CHAPTER II. + PRINCE CHERI 20 + + CHAPTER III. + ON A MOONLIGHT NIGHT 37 + + CHAPTER IV. + THE FOREST OF THE RAINBOWS 56 + + CHAPTER V. + FROG-LAND 75 + + CHAPTER VI. + THE SONG OF THE SWAN 94 + + CHAPTER VII. + WINGS AND CATS 114 + + CHAPTER VIII. + "THE BROWN BULL OF NORROWA" 135 + + CHAPTER IX. + THE BROWN BULL--(_Continued_) 158 + + CHAPTER X. + THE END OF THE BROWN BULL 177 + + CHAPTER XI. + DUDU'S OLD STORY 197 + + CHAPTER XII. + AU REVOIR 218 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. + + + "DUDU" _Vignette on Title-Page._ + + "ISN'T IT A FUNNY ROOM, CHERI?" _To face Page_ 25 + + IT WAS DUDU " 51 + + ONWARDS QUIETLY STEPPED THE LITTLE PROCESSION " 75 + + TWO CHRISTMAS ANGELS " 122 + + STORY SPINNING " 141 + + THE BROWN BULL OF NORROWA " 162 + + "IS THIS A NEW PART OF THE HOUSE?" " 201 + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +MADEMOISELLE JEANNE. + + "Maitre Corbeau, sur un arbre perche." + LA FONTAINE. + + +It was so cold. Ah, so very cold! So thought the old raven as he hobbled +up and down the terrace walk at the back of the house--the walk that was +so pleasant in summer, with its pretty view of the lower garden, gay +with the bright, stiffly-arranged flowerbeds, so pleasantly warm and yet +shady with the old trees overhead, where the raven's second cousins, the +rooks, managed their affairs, not without a good deal of chatter about +it, it must be confessed. "Silly creatures," the raven was in the habit +of calling them with contempt--all to himself, of course, for no one +understood the different tones of his croaking, even though he was a +French raven and had received the best of educations. But to-day he was +too depressed in spirit by the cold to think of his relations or their +behaviour at all. He just hopped or hobbled--I hardly know which you +would call it--slowly and solemnly up and down the long walk, where the +snow lay so thick that at each hop it came ever so far up his black +claws, which annoyed him very much, I assure you, and made him wish more +than ever that summer was back again. + +Poor old fellow! he was not usually of a discontented disposition; but +to-day, it must be allowed, he was in the right about the cold. It was +_very_ cold. + +Several others beside the raven were thinking so--the three chickens who +lived in a queer little house in one corner of the yard thought so, and +huddled the closer together, as they settled themselves for the night. +For though it was only half-past three in the afternoon, they thought it +was no use sitting up any longer on such a make-believe of a day, when +not the least little ray of sunshine had succeeded in creeping through +the leaden-grey sky. And the tortoise _would_ have thought so too if he +could, but he was too sleepy to think at all, as he "cruddled" himself +into his shell in the corner of the laurel hedge, and dreamt of the nice +hot days that were past. + +And upstairs, inside the old house, somebody else was thinking so too--a +little somebody who seemed to be doing her best to make herself, +particularly her nose, colder still, for she was pressing it hard on to +the icy window-pane and staring out on to the deserted, snow-covered +garden, and thinking how cold it was, and wishing it was summer time +again, and fancying how it would feel to be a raven like old "Dudu," all +at once, in the mixed-up, dancing-about way that "thinking" was +generally done in the funny little brain of Mademoiselle Jeanne. + +Inside the room it was getting dark, and the white snow outside seemed +to make it darker. + +"Mademoiselle Jeanne," said a voice belonging to a servant who just then +opened the door; "Mademoiselle Jeanne, what are you doing at the window? +You will catch cold." + +Jeanne gave a little start when she heard herself spoken to. She had +been all alone in the room for some time, with not a sound about her. +She turned slowly from the window and came near the fire. + +"If I did catch cold, it would not be bad," she said. "I would stay in +bed, and you, Marcelline, would make me nice things to eat, and nobody +would say, 'Don't do that, Mademoiselle.' It would be charming." + +Marcelline was Jeanne's old nurse, and she had been her mother's nurse +too. She was really rather old, how old nobody seemed exactly to know, +but Jeanne thought her _very_ old, and asked her once if she had not +been her grandmother's nurse too. Any one else but Marcelline would have +been offended at such a question; but Marcelline was not like any one +else, and she never was offended at anything. She was so old that for +many years no one had seen much difference in her--she had reached a +sort of settled oldness, like an arm-chair which may once have been +covered with bright-coloured silk, but which, with time and wear, has +got to have an all-over-old look which never seems to get any worse. Not +that Marcelline was dull or grey to look at--she was bright and cheery, +and when she had a new clean cap on, all beautifully frilled and crimped +round her face, Jeanne used to tell her that she was beautiful, quite +beautiful, and that if she was _very_ good and always did exactly what +Jeanne asked her, she--Jeanne--would have her to be nurse to her +children when she had grown up to be a lady, married to some very nice +gentleman. + +And when Jeanne chattered like that, Marcelline used to smile; she never +said anything, she just smiled. Sometimes Jeanne liked to see her +smile; sometimes it would make her impatient, and she would say, "Why do +you smile like that, Marcelline? _Speak!_ When I speak I like you to +speak too." + +But all she could get Marcelline to answer would be, "Well, +Mademoiselle, it is very well what you say." + +This evening--or perhaps I should say afternoon, for whatever hour the +chickens' timepiece made it, it was only half-past three by the great +big clock that stood at the end of the long passage by Jeanne's room +door;--this afternoon Jeanne was not quite as lively as she sometimes +was. She sat down on the floor in front of the fire and stared into it. +It was pretty to look at just then, for the wood was burning redly, and +at the tiniest touch a whole bevy of lovely sparks would fly out like +bees from a hive, or a covey of birds, or better still, like a thousand +imprisoned fairies escaping at some magic touch. Of all things, Jeanne +loved to give this magic touch. There was no poker, but she managed just +as well with a stick of unburnt wood, or sometimes, when she was _quite_ +sure Marcelline was not looking, with the toe of her little shoe. Just +now it was Marcelline who set the fairy sparks free by moving the logs a +little and putting on a fresh one behind. + +"How pretty they are, are they not, Marcelline?" said Jeanne. + +Marcelline did not speak, and when Jeanne looked up at her, she saw by +the light of the fire that she was smiling. Jeanne held up her +forefinger. + +"Naughty Marcelline," she said; "you are not to smile. You are to +_speak_. I want you to speak very much, for it is so dull, and I have +nothing to do. I want you to tell me stories, Marcelline. Do you hear, +you naughty little thing?" + +"And what am I to tell you stories about then, Mademoiselle? You have +got all out of my old head long ago; and when the grain is all ground +what can the miller do?" + +"Get some more, of course," said Jeanne. "Why, _I_ could make stories if +I tried, I daresay, and I am only seven, and you who are a hundred--are +you _quite_ a hundred, Marcelline?" + +Marcelline shook her head. + +"Not _quite_, Mademoiselle," she said. + +"Well, never mind, you are old enough to make stories, any way. Tell me +more about the country where you lived when you were little as I; the +country you will never tell me the name of. Oh, I do like that one about +the Golden Princess shut up in the castle by the sea! I like stories +about princesses best of all. I do wish I were a princess; next to my +best wish of all, I wish to be a princess. Marcelline, do you hear? I +want you to tell me a story." + +Still Marcelline did not reply. She in her turn was looking into the +fire. Suddenly she spoke. + +"One, two, three," she said. "Quick, now, Mademoiselle, quick, quick. +Wish a wish before that last spark is gone. Quick, Mademoiselle." + +"Oh dear, what shall I wish?" exclaimed Jeanne. "When you tell me to be +quick it all goes out of my head; but I know now. I wish----" + +"Hush, Mademoiselle," said Marcelline, quickly again. "You must not say +it aloud. Never mind, it is all right. You have wished it before the +spark is gone. It will come true, Mademoiselle." + +Jeanne's bright dark eyes glanced up at Marcelline with an expression of +mingled curiosity and respect. + +"How do you know it will come true?" she said. + +Marcelline's old eyes, nearly as bright and dark still as Jeanne's own, +had a half-mischievous look in them as she replied, solemnly shaking her +head, + +"I know, Mademoiselle, and that is all I can say. And when the time +comes for your wish to be granted, you will see if I am not right." + +"Shall I?" said Jeanne, half impressed, half rebellious. "Do the fairies +tell you things, Marcelline? Not that I believe there are any +fairies--not now, any way." + +"Don't say that, Mademoiselle," said Marcelline. "In that country I have +told you of no one ever said such a thing as that." + +"Why didn't they? Did they really _see_ fairies there?" asked Jeanne, +lowering her voice a little. + +"Perhaps," said Marcelline; but that was all she _would_ say, and Jeanne +couldn't get her to tell her any fairy stories, and had to content +herself with making them for herself instead out of the queer shapes of +the burning wood of the fire. + +She was so busy with these fancies that she did not hear the stopping of +the click-click of Marcelline's knitting needles, nor did she hear the +old nurse get up from her chair and go out of the room. A few minutes +before, the _facteur_ had rung at the great wooden gates of the +courtyard--a rather rare event, for in those days letters came only +twice a week--but this, too, little Jeanne had not heard. She must have +grown drowsy with the quiet and the heat of the fire, for she quite +started when the door again opened, and Marcelline's voice told her that +her mother wanted her to go down to the salon, she had something to say +to her. + +"O Marcelline," said Jeanne, rubbing her eyes, "I didn't know you had +gone away. What does mamma want? O Marcelline, I am so sleepy, I would +like to go to bed." + +"To go to bed, Mademoiselle, and not yet five o'clock! Oh no, you will +wake up nicely by the time you get down to the salon." + +"I am so tired, Marcelline," persisted Jeanne. "These winter days it is +so dull. I don't mind in summer, for then I can play in the garden with +Dudu and the tortoise, and all the creatures. But in winter it is so +dull. I would not be tired if I had a little friend to play with me." + +"Keep up your heart, Mademoiselle. Stranger things have happened than +that you should have some one to play with." + +"What do you mean, Marcelline?" said Jeanne, curiously. "Do you know +something, Marcelline? Tell me, do. Did you know what my wish was?" she +added, eagerly. + +"I know, Mademoiselle, that Madame will be waiting for you in the +salon. We can talk about your wish later; when I am putting you to bed." + +She would say no more, but smoothed Jeanne's soft dark hair, never very +untidy it must be owned, for it was always neatly plaited in two tails +that hung down her back, as was then the fashion for little girls of +Jeanne's age and country, and bade her again not to delay going +downstairs. + +Jeanne set off. In that great rambling old house it was really quite a +journey from her room to her mother's salon. There was the long corridor +to pass, at one end of which were Jeanne's quarters, at the other a room +which had had for her since her babyhood a mingled fascination and awe. +It was hung with tapestry, very old, and in some parts faded, but still +distinct. As Jeanne passed by the door of this room, she noticed that it +was open, and the gleam of the faint moonlight on the snow-covered +garden outside attracted her. + +"I can see the terrace ever so much better from the tapestry room +window," she said to herself. "I wonder what Dudu is doing, poor old +fellow. Oh, how cold he must be! I suppose Grignan is asleep in a hole +in the hedge, and the chickens will be all right any way. I have not +seen Houpet all day." + +"Houpet" was Jeanne's favourite of the three chickens. He had come by +his name on account of a wonderful tuft of feathers on the top of his +head, which stuck straight up and then waved down again, something like +a little umbrella. No doubt he was a very rare and wonderful chicken, +and if I were clever about chickens I would be able to tell you all his +remarkable points. But that I cannot do. I can only say he was the +queerest-looking creature that ever pecked about a poultry-yard, and how +it came to pass that Jeanne admired him so, I cannot tell you either. + +"Poor Houpet!" she repeated, as she ran across the tapestry room to the +uncurtained window; "I am sure he must have been very sad without me all +day. He has such a loving heart. The others are nice too, but not half +so loving. And Grignan has no heart at all; I suppose tortoises never +have; only he is very comical, which is nearly as nice. As for Dudu, I +really cannot say, he is so stuck up, as if he knew better than any one +else. Ah, there he is, the old fellow! Well, Dudu," she called out, as +if the raven could have heard her so far off and through the closely +shut window; "well, Dudu, how are you to-day, my dear sir? How do you +like the snow and the cold?" + +Dudu calmly continued his promenade up and down the terrace. Jeanne +could clearly distinguish his black shape against the white ground. + +"I am going downstairs to see mamma, Dudu," she went on. "I love mamma +very much, but I wish she wasn't my mother at all, but my sister. I wish +she was turned into a little girl to play with me, and that papa was +turned into a little boy. How funny he would look with his white hair, +wouldn't he, Dudu? Oh, you stupid Dudu, why won't you speak to me? I +wish you would come up here; there's a beautiful castle and garden in +the tapestry, where you would have two peacocks to play with;" for just +at that moment the moon, passing from under a cloud, lighted up one side +of the tapestry, which, as Jeanne said, represented a garden with +various curious occupants. And as the wavering brightness caught the +grotesque figures in turn, it really seemed to the little girl as if +they moved. Half pleased, half startled at the fancy, she clapped her +hands. + +"Dudu, Dudu," she cried, "the peacocks want you to come; they're +beginning to jump about;" and almost as she said the words a loud croak +from the raven sounded in her ears, and turning round, there, to her +amazement, she saw Dudu standing on the ledge of the window outside, +his bright eyes shining, his black wings flapping, just as if he would +say, + +"Let me in, Mademoiselle, let me in. Why do you mock me by calling me if +you won't let me in?" + +Completely startled by this time, Jeanne turned and fled. + +"He must be a fairy," she said by herself; "I'll never make fun of Dudu +any more--_never_. He must be a fairy, or how else could he have got up +from the terrace on to the window-sill all in a minute? And I don't +think a raven fairy would be nice at all; he'd be a sort of an imp, I +expect. I wouldn't mind now if Houpet was a fairy, he's so gentle and +loving; but Dudu would be a sort of ogre fairy, he's so black and +solemn. Oh dear, how he startled me! How did he get up there? I'm very +glad _I_ don't sleep in the tapestry room." + +But when she got down to the brightly-lighted salon her cheeks were so +pale and her eyes so startled-looking that her mother was quite +concerned, and eagerly asked what was the matter. + +"Nothing," said Jeanne at first, after the manner of little girls, and +boys too, when they do not want to be cross-questioned; but after a +while she confessed that she had run into the tapestry room on her way +down, and that the moonlight made the figures look as if they were +moving--and--and--that Dudu came and stood on the window-sill and +croaked at her. + +"Dudu stood on the window-sill outside the tapestry room!" repeated her +father; "impossible, my child! Why, Dudu could not by any conceivable +means get up there; you might as well say you saw the tortoise there +too." + +"If I had called him perhaps he _would_ have come too; I believe Dudu +and he are great friends," thought Jeanne to herself, for her mind was +in a queer state of confusion, and she would not have felt very much +astounded at anything. But aloud she only repeated, "I'm sure he was +there, dear papa." + +And to satisfy her, her kind father, though he was not so young as he +had been, and the bad weather made him very rheumatic, mounted upstairs +to the tapestry room, and carefully examined the window inside and out. + +"Nothing of the kind to be seen, my little girl," was his report. +"Master Dudu was hobbling about in the snow on his favourite terrace +walk as usual. I hope the servants give him a little meat in this cold +weather, by the by. I must speak to Eugene about it. What you fancied +was Dudu, my little Jeanne," he continued, "must have been a branch of +the ivy blown across the window. In the moonlight, and with the +reflections of the snow, things take queer shapes." + +"But there is no wind, and the ivy doesn't grow so high up, and the ivy +could not have _croaked_," thought Jeanne to herself again, though she +was far too well brought up a little French girl to contradict her +father by saying so. + +"Perhaps so, dear papa," was all she said. + +But her parents still looked a little uneasy. + +"She cannot be quite well," said her mother. "She must be feverish. I +must tell Marcelline to make her a little tisane when she goes to bed." + +"Ah, bah!" said Jeanne's white-headed papa. "What we were speaking of +will be a much better cure than tisane. She needs companionship of her +own age." + +Jeanne pricked up her ears at this, and glanced at her mother +inquiringly. Instantly there started into her mind Marcelline's prophecy +about her wish. + +"The naughty little Marcelline!" she thought to herself. "She has been +tricking me. I believe she knew something was going to happen. Mamma, my +dear mamma!" she cried, eagerly but respectfully, "have you something to +tell me? Have you had letters, mamma, from the country, where the +little cousin lives?" + +Jeanne's mother softly stroked the cheeks, red enough now, of her +excited little daughter. + +"Yes, my child," she replied. "I have had a letter. It was for that I +sent for you--to tell you about it. I have a letter from the grandfather +of Hugh, with whom he has lived since his parents died, and he accepts +my invitation. Hugh is to come to live with us, as his mother would have +wished. His grandfather can spare him, for he has other grandchildren, +and we need him, do we not, my Jeanne? My little girl needs a little +brother--and I loved his mother so much," she added in a lower voice. + +Jeanne could not speak. Her face was glowing with excitement, her breath +came quick and short, almost, it seemed, as if she were going to cry. +"O, mamma!" was all she could say--"O mamma!" but her mother understood +her. + +"And when will he come?" asked Jeanne next. + +"Soon, I hope. In a few days; but it depends on the weather greatly. The +snow has stopped the diligences in several places, they say; but his +grandfather writes that he would like Hugh to come soon, as he himself +has to leave home." + +"And will he be always with us? Will he do lessons with me, mamma, and +go to the chateau with us in summer, and always be with us?" + +"I hope so. For a long time at least. And he will do lessons with you at +first--though when he gets big he will need more teachers, of course." + +"He is a year older than I, mamma." + +"Yes, he is eight." + +"And, mamma," added Jeanne, after some consideration, "what room will he +have?" + +"The tapestry room," said her mother. "It is the warmest, and Hugh is +rather delicate, and may feel it cold here. And the tapestry room is not +far from yours, my little Jeanne, so you can keep your toys and books +together. There is only one thing I do not quite understand in the +letter," went on Jeanne's mother, turning to her husband as she always +did in any difficulty--he was so much older and wiser than she, she used +to say. "Hugh's grandfather says Hugh has begged leave to bring a pet +with him, and he hopes I will not mind. What can it be? I cannot read +the other word." + +"A little dog probably," said Jeanne's father, putting on his spectacles +as he took the letter from his wife, "a pet--gu--ga--and then comes +another word beginning with 'p.' It almost looks like 'pig,' but it +could not be a pet pig. No, I cannot read it either; we must wait to see +till he comes." + + * * * * * + +As Marcelline was preparing to put Jeanne to bed that night, the little +girl suddenly put her arms round her nurse's neck, and drew down her old +face till it was on a level with her own. + +"Look in my face, Marcelline," she said. "Now look in my face and +confess. Now, didn't you know that mamma had got a letter to-night and +what it said, and was not that how you knew my wish would come true?" + +Marcelline smiled. + +"That was one way I knew, Mademoiselle," she said. + +"Well, it shows I'm right not to believe in fairies any way. I really +did think at first that the fairies had told you something, but----" +suddenly she stopped as the remembrance of her adventure in the tapestry +room returned to her mind. "Dudu may be a fairy, whether Marcelline has +anything to do with fairies or not," she reflected. It was better +certainly to approach such subjects respectfully. "Marcelline," she +added, after a little silence, "there is only one thing I don't like. I +wish the little cousin were not going to sleep in the tapestry room." + +"Not in the tapestry room, Mademoiselle?" exclaimed Marcelline, "why, it +is the best room in the house! You, who are so fond of stories, +Mademoiselle--why there are stories without end on the walls of the +tapestry room; particularly on a moonlight night." + +"_Are_ there?" said Jeanne. "I wonder then if the little cousin will be +able to find them out. If he does he must tell them to me. Are they +fairy stories, Marcelline?" + +But old Marcelline only smiled. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +PRINCE CHERI. + + "I'll take my guinea-pig always to church." + CHILD WORLD. + + +If it were cold just then in the thick-walled, well-warmed old house, +which was Jeanne's home, you may fancy _how_ cold it was in the rumbling +diligence, which in those days was the only way of travelling in France. +And for a little boy whose experience of long journeys was small, this +one was really rather trying. But Jeanne's cousin Hugh was a very +patient little boy. His life, since his parents' death, had not been a +_very_ happy one, and he had learnt to bear troubles without +complaining. And now that he was on his way to the kind cousins his +mother had so often told him of, the cousins who had been so kind to +_her_, before she had any home of her own, his heart was so full of +happiness that, even if the journey had been twice as cold and +uncomfortable, he would not have thought himself to be pitied. + +It was a pale little face, however, which looked out of the diligence +window at the different places where it stopped, and a rather timid +voice which asked in the pretty broken French he had not quite forgotten +since the days that his mother taught him her own language, for a little +milk for his "pet." The pet, which had travelled on his knees all the +way from England--comfortably nestled up in hay and cotton wool in its +cage, which looked something like a big mouse-trap--much better off in +its way certainly than its poor little master. But it was a great +comfort to him: the sight of its funny little nose poking out between +the bars of its cage made Hugh feel ever so much less lonely, and when +he had secured a little milk for his guinea-pig he did not seem to mind +half so much about anything for himself. + +Still it was a long and weary journey, and poor Hugh felt very glad when +he was wakened up from the uncomfortable dose, which was all in the way +of sleep he could manage, to be told that at last they had arrived. This +was the town where his friends lived, and a "monsieur," the conductor +added, was inquiring for him--Jeanne's father's valet it was, who had +been sent to meet him and take him safe to the old house, where an eager +little heart was counting the minutes till he came. + +They looked at each other curiously when at last they met. Jeanne's eyes +were sparkling and her cheeks burning, and her whole little person in a +flutter of joyful excitement, and yet she couldn't speak. Now that the +little cousin was there, actually standing before her, she could not +speak. How was it? He was not _quite_ what she had expected; he looked +paler and quieter than any boys she had seen, and--was he not glad to +see her?--glad to have come?--she asked herself with a little misgiving. +She looked at him again--his blue eyes were very sweet and gentle, and, +tired though he was, Jeanne could see that he was trying to smile and +look pleased. But he was _very_ tired and very shy. That was all that +was the matter. And his shyness made Jeanne feel shy too. + +"Are you very tired, my cousin?" she said at last. + +"Not very, thank you," said Hugh. "I am rather tired, but I am not very +hungry," he added, glancing at a side-table where a little supper had +been laid out for him. "I am not very hungry, but I think Nibble is. +Might I have a little milk for Nibble, please?" + +As he spoke he held up for Jeanne to see the small box he was carrying, +and she gave a little scream of pleasure when, through the bars, she +caught sight of the guinea-pig's soft nose, poking out, saying as +plainly almost as if he had spoken, "I want my supper; please to see at +once about my supper, little girl." + +"Neeble," cried Jeanne, "O my cousin, is Neeble your pet? Why, he is a +'cochon de Barbarie!' O the dear little fellow! We could not--at least +papa and mamma could not--read what he was. And have you brought him all +the way, my cousin, and do you love him very much? Marcelline, +Marcelline, oh, do give us some milk for the cochon de Barbarie--oh, +see, Marcelline, how sweet he is!" + +Once set free, her tongue ran on so fast that sometimes Hugh had +difficulty to understand her. But the ice was broken any way, and when, +an hour or two later, Jeanne's mother told her she might take Hugh up to +show him his room, the two trotted off, hand-in-hand, as if they had +been close companions for years. + +"I hope you will like your room, cheri," said Jeanne, with a tiny tone +of patronising. "It is not very far from mine, and mamma says we can +keep all our toys and books together in my big cupboard in the passage." + +Hugh looked at Jeanne for a moment without speaking. "What was that name +you called me just now, Jeanne?" he asked, after a little pause. + +Jeanne thought for a minute. + +"'Mon cousin,' was it that?" she said. "Oh no, I remember, it was +'cheri.' I _cannot_ say your name--I have tried all these days. I cannot +say it better than 'Ee-ou,' which is not pretty." + +She screwed her rosy little mouth into the funniest shape as she tried +to manage "Hugh." Hugh could hardly help laughing. + +"Never mind," he said. "I like 'cheri' ever so much better. I like it +better than 'mon cousin' or any name, because, do you know," he added, +dropping his voice a little, "I remember now, though I had forgotten +till you said it--that was the name mamma called me by." + +"Cheri!" repeated Jeanne, stopping half-way up the staircase to throw +her arms round Hugh's neck at the greatest risk to the equilibrium of +the whole party, including the guinea-pig--"_Cheri!_ I shall always call +you so, then. You shall be my Prince Cheri. Don't you love fairy +stories, mon cousin?" + +"_Awfully_," said Hugh, from the bottom of his soul. + +[Illustration: 'ISN'T IT A FUNNY ROOM, CHERI?'--p. 25] + +"I knew you would," said Jeanne triumphantly. "And oh, so do I! +Marcelline says, Cheri, that the tapestry room--that's the room you're +going to have--is full of fairy stories. I wonder if you'll find out +any of them. You must tell me if you do." + +"The tapestry room?" repeated Hugh; "I don't think I ever saw a tapestry +room. Oh," he added, as a sudden recollection struck him, "is it like +what that queen long ago worked about the battles and all that? I mean +all about William the Conqueror." + +"No," said Jeanne, "it's quite different from that work. I've seen that, +so I know. It isn't pretty at all. It's just long strips of linen with +queer-shaped horses and things worked on. Not _at all_ pretty. And I +think the pictures on the walls of your room _are_ pretty. Here it is. +Isn't it a funny room, Cheri?" + +She opened the door of the tapestry room as she spoke, for while +chattering they had mounted the staircase and made their way along the +corridor. Hugh followed his little cousin into the room, and stood +gazing round him with curious surprise and pleasure. The walls were well +lighted up, for Marcelline had carried a lamp upstairs and set it down +on the table, and a bright fire was burning in the wide old-fashioned +hearth. + +"Jeanne," said Hugh, after a minute's silence, "Jeanne, it is very +funny, but, do you know, I am _sure_ I have seen this room before. I +seem to know the pictures on the walls. Oh, _how_ nice they are! I +didn't think that was what tapestry meant. Oh, how glad I am this is to +be my room--is yours like this too, Jeanne?" + +Jeanne shook her head. + +"Oh no, Cheri," she said. "My room has a nice paper--roses and things +like that running up and down. I am very glad my room is not like this. +I don't think I should like to see all these funny creatures in the +night. You don't know how queer they look in the moonlight. They quite +frightened me once." + +Hugh opened his blue eyes very wide. + +"_Frightened_ you?" he said. "I should never be frightened at them. They +are so nice and funny. Just look at those peacocks, Jeanne. They are +lovely." + +Jeanne still shook her head. + +"I don't think so," she said. "I can't bear those peacocks. But I'm very +glad _you_ like them, Cheri." + +"I wish it was moonlight to-night," continued Hugh. "I don't think I +should go to sleep at all. I would lie awake watching all the pictures. +I dare say they look rather nice in the firelight too, but still not +_so_ nice as in the moonlight." + +"No, Monsieur," said Marcelline, who had followed the children into the +room. "A moonlight night is the time to see them best. It makes the +colours look quite fresh again. Mademoiselle Jeanne has never looked at +the tapestry properly by moonlight, or she would like it better." + +"I shouldn't mind with Cheri," said Jeanne. "You must call me some night +when it's very pretty, Cheri, and we'll look at it together." + +Marcelline smiled and seemed pleased, which was rather funny. Most +nurses would have begun scolding Jeanne for dreaming of such a thing as +running about the house in the middle of the night to admire the +moonlight on tapestry or on anything else. But then Marcelline certainly +was rather a funny person. + +"And the cochon de Barbarie, where is he to sleep, Monsieur?" she said +to Hugh. + +Hugh looked rather distressed. + +"I don't know," he said. "At home he slept in his little house on a sort +of balcony there was outside my window. But there isn't any balcony +here--besides, it's so _very_ cold, and he's quite strange, you know." + +He looked at Marcelline, appealingly. + +"I daresay, while it is so cold, Madame would not mind if we put him in +the cupboard in the passage," she said; but Jeanne interrupted her. + +"Oh no," she said. "He would be far better in the chickens' house. It's +nice and warm, I know, and his cage can be in one corner. He wouldn't be +nearly so lonely, and to-morrow I'll tell Houpet and the others that +they must be very kind to him. Houpet always does what I tell him." + +"Who is Houpet?" said Hugh. + +"He's my pet chicken," replied Jeanne. "They're all pets, of course, but +he's the most of a pet of all. He lives in the chicken-house with the +two other little chickens. O Cheri," she added, glancing round, and +seeing that Marcelline had left the room, "do let us run out and peep at +Houpet for a minute. We can go through the tonnelle, and the chickens' +house is close by." + +She darted off as she spoke, and Hugh, nothing loth, his precious Nibble +still in his arms, followed her. They ran down the long corridor, on to +which opened both the tapestry room and Jeanne's room at the other end, +through a small sort of anteroom, and then--for though they were +_upstairs_, the garden being built in terraces was at this part of the +house on a level with the first floor--then straight out into what +little Jeanne called "the tonnelle." + +Hugh stood still and gazed about him with delight and astonishment. + +"O Jeanne," he exclaimed, "how pretty it is! oh, how very pretty!" + +Jeanne stopped short in her progress along the tonnelle. + +"What's pretty?" she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Do you mean the +garden with the snow?" + +"No, no, that's pretty too, but I mean the trees. Look up, Jeanne, do." + +There was no moonlight, but the light from the windows streamed out to +where the children stood, and shone upon the beautiful icicles on the +branches above their heads. For the tonnelle was a kind of arbour--a +long covered passage made by trees at each side, whose boughs had been +trained to meet and interlace overhead. And now, with their fairy +tracery of snow and frost, the effect of the numberless little branches +forming a sparkling roof was pretty and fanciful in the extreme. Jeanne +looked up as she was told. + +"Yes," she said, "it's pretty. If it was moonlight it would be prettier +still, for then we could see right along the tonnelle to the end." + +"I don't think that _would_ be prettier," said Hugh; "the dark at the +end makes it look so nice--like as if it was a fairy door into some +queer place--a magic cavern, or some place like that." + +"So it does," said Jeanne. "What nice fancies you have, Cheri! But I +wish you could see the tonnelle in summer. It _is_ pretty then, with all +the leaves on. But we must run quick, or else Marcelline will be calling +us before we have got to the chicken-house." + +Off she set again, and Hugh after her, though not so fast, for Jeanne +knew every step of the way, and poor Hugh had never been in the garden +before. It was not very far to go, however--the chickens' house was in a +little courtyard just a few steps from the tonnelle, and guided by +Jeanne's voice in front as much as by the faint glimpses of her figure, +dark against the snow, Hugh soon found himself safe beside her at the +door of the chickens' house. Jeanne felt about till she got hold of the +latch, which she lifted, and was going to push open the door and enter +when Hugh stopped her. + +"Jeanne," he said, "it's _quite_ dark. We can't possibly see the +chickens. Hadn't we better wait till to-morrow, and put Nibble in the +cupboard, as Marcelline said, for to-night?" + +"Oh no," said Jeanne. "It doesn't matter a bit that it's dark." She +opened the door as she spoke, and gently pulled Hugh in after her. +"Look," she went on, "there is a very, very little light from the +kitchen window after all, when the door is opened. Look, Cheri, up in +that corner sleep Houpet and the others. Put the cochon de Barbarie down +here--so--that will do. He will be quite safe here, and you feel it is +not cold." + +"And are there no rats, or naughty dogs about--nothing like that?" asked +Hugh rather anxiously. + +"Of course not," replied Jeanne. "Do you think I'd leave Houpet here if +there were? I'll call to Houpet now, and tell him to be kind to the +little cochon." + +"But Houpet's asleep, and, besides, how would he know what you say?" +objected Hugh. + +For all answer Jeanne gave a sort of little whistle--half whistle, half +coo it was. "Houpet, Houpet," she called softly, "we've brought a little +cochon de Barbarie to sleep in your house. You must be very kind to +him--do you hear, Houpet dear? and in the morning you must fly down and +peep in at his cage and tell him you're very glad to see him." + +A faint, a very faint little rustle was heard up above in the corner +where Jeanne had tried to persuade her cousin that the chickens were to +be _seen_, and delighted at this evidence that any way they were to be +_heard_, she turned to him triumphantly. + +"That's Houpet," she said. "Dear little fellow, he's too sleepy to +crow--he just gives a little wriggle to show that he's heard me. Now put +down the cage, Cheri--oh, you have put it down--and let's run in again. +Your pet will be quite safe, you see, but if we're not quick, Marcelline +will be running out to look for us." + +She felt about for Hugh's hand, and having got it, turned to go. But she +stopped to put her head in again for a moment at the door. + +"Houpet, dear," she said, "don't let Dudu come into your house. If he +tries to, you must fly at him and scold him and peck him." + +"Who is Dudu?" said Hugh, as they were running back to the house +together along the snowy garden path. + +"He is----" began Jeanne. "Hush," she went on, in a lower voice, "there +he is! I do believe he heard what I said, and he's angry." For right +before them on the path stood the old raven, on one leg as usual, though +this it was too dark to see clearly. And, as Jeanne spoke, he gave a +sharp, sudden croak, which made both the children jump, and then +deliberately hopped away. + +"He's a raven!" said Hugh with surprise. "Why, what funny pets you have, +Jeanne!" + +Jeanne laughed. + +"Dudu isn't my pet," she said. "I don't like him. To tell you the truth, +Cheri, I'm rather frightened of him. I think he's a sort of a fairy." + +Hugh looked much impressed, but not at all surprised. + +"Do you really, Jeanne?" he said. + +"Yes," she said, "I do. And I'm not _sure_ but that Grignan is too. At +least I think Grignan is enchanted, and that Dudu is the spiteful fairy +that did it. Grignan is the tortoise, you know." + +"Yes," said Hugh, "you told me about him. I do wonder if what you think +is true," he added reflectively. "We must try to find out, Jeanne." + +"But we mustn't offend Dudu," said Jeanne. "He might, you know, turn +_us_ into something--two little mice, perhaps--that wouldn't be very +nice, would it, Cheri?" + +"I don't know," Hugh replied. "I wouldn't mind for a little, if he would +turn us back again. We could get into such funny places and see such +funny things--couldn't we, Jeanne?" + +They both laughed merrily at the idea, and were still laughing when they +ran against Marcelline at the door which they had left open at the end +of the tonnelle. + +"My children!" she exclaimed. "Monsieur Cheri and Mademoiselle Jeanne! +Where have you been? And in the snow too! Who would have thought it?" + +Her tone was anxious, but not cross. She hurried them in to the warm +fire, however, and carefully examined their feet to make sure that their +shoes and stockings were not wet. + +"Marcelline is very kind," said Hugh, fixing his soft blue eyes on the +old nurse in surprise. "At home, grandmamma's maid would have scolded me +dreadfully if I had run out in the snow." + +"Yes," said Jeanne, flinging her arms round the old nurse's neck, and +giving her a kiss first on one cheek then on the other; "she is very +kind. Nice little old Marcelline." + +"Perhaps," said Hugh, meditatively, "she remembers that when she was a +little girl she liked to do things like that herself." + +"I don't believe you ever were a little girl, were you, Marcelline?" +said Jeanne. "I believe you were always a little old woman like what you +are now." + +Marcelline laughed, but did not speak. + +"Ask Dudu," she said at last. "If he is a fairy, he should know." + +Jeanne pricked up her ears at this. + +"Marcelline," she said solemnly, "I believe you do know something about +Dudu. Oh, _do_ tell us, dear Marcelline." + +But nothing more was to be got out of the old nurse. + +When the children were undressed, Jeanne begged leave to run into Hugh's +room with him to tuck him into bed, and make him feel at home the first +night. There was no lamp in the room, but the firelight danced curiously +on the quaint figures on the walls. + +"You're sure you're not frightened, Cheri?" said little Jeanne in a +motherly way, as she was leaving the room. + +"Frightened! what is there to be frightened at?" said Hugh. + +"The funny figures," said Jeanne. "Those peacocks look just as if they +were going to jump out at you." + +"I think they look very nice," said Hugh. "I am sure I shall have nice +dreams. I shall make the peacocks give a party some night, Jeanne, and +we'll invite Dudu and Grignan, and Houpet and the two little hens, and +Nibble, of course, and we'll make them all tell stories." + +Jeanne clapped her hands. + +"Oh, what fun!" she exclaimed. "And you'll ask me and let me hear the +stories, won't you, Cheri?" + +"_Of course_," said Hugh. So Jeanne skipped off in the highest spirits. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +ON A MOONLIGHT NIGHT. + + "O moon! in the night I have seen you sailing, + And shining so round and low." + CHILD NATURE. + + +"And what did you dream, Cheri?" inquired Jeanne the next morning in a +confidential and mysterious tone. + +Hugh hesitated. + +"I don't know," he said at last. "At least----" he stopped and hesitated +again. + +The two children were having their "little breakfast," consisting of two +great big cups of nice hot milky coffee and two big slices of bread, +with the sweet fresh butter for which the country where Jeanne's home +was is famed. They were alone in Jeanne's room, and Marcelline had drawn +a little table close to the fire for them, for this morning it seemed +colder than ever; fresh snow had fallen during the night, and out in +the garden nothing was to be seen but smoothly-rounded white mounds of +varying sizes and heights, and up in the sky the dull blue-grey curtain +of snow-cloud made one draw back shivering from the window, feeling as +if the sun had gone off in a sulky fit and would _never_ come back +again. + +But inside, close by the brightly-blazing wood fire, Jeanne and Hugh +found themselves "very well," as the little girl called it, very well +indeed. And the hot coffee was very nice, much nicer, Hugh thought, than +the very weak tea which his grandmother's maid used to give him for +breakfast at home. He stirred it round and round slowly with his spoon, +staring into his cup, while he repeated, in answer to little Jeanne's +question about what he had dreamt, "No, I don't know." + +"But you did dream _something_," said Jeanne rather impatiently. "Can't +you tell me about it? I thought you were going to have all sorts of +funny things to tell me. You said you would have a party of the peacocks +and all the pets, and make them tell stories." + +"Yes," said Hugh slowly. "But I couldn't make them--I must wait till +they come. I think I did dream some funny things last night, but I can't +remember. There seemed to be a lot of chattering, and once I thought I +saw the raven standing at the end of the bed, but that time I wasn't +dreaming. I'm sure I wasn't; but I was very sleepy, and I couldn't hear +what he said. He seemed to want me to do something or other, and then he +nodded his head to where the peacocks are, and do you know, Jeanne, I +thought they nodded too. Wasn't that funny? But I daresay it was only +the firelight--the fire had burnt low, and then it bobbed up again all +of a sudden." + +"And what more?" asked Jeanne eagerly. "O Cheri, I think that's +wonderful! Do tell me some more." + +"I don't think I remember any more," said Hugh. "After that I went to +sleep, and then it was all a muddle. There were the chickens and Nibble +and the tortoise all running about, and Dudu seemed to be talking to me +all the time. But it was just a muddle; you know how dreams go +sometimes. And when I woke up the fire was quite out and it was all +dark. And then I saw the light of Marcelline's candle through the hinge +of the door, and she came to tell me it was time to get up." + +"Oh dear," said Jeanne, "I do hope you'll dream some more to-night." + +"I daresay I shan't dream at all," said Hugh. "Some nights I go to +sleep, and it's morning in one minute. I don't like that much, because +it's nice to wake up and feel how cosy it is in bed." + +"But, Cheri," pursued Jeanne after a few moments' silence, and a few +more bites at her bread and butter, "there's one thing I don't +understand. It's about Dudu. You said it wasn't a dream, you were sure. +Do you think he was really there, at the foot of the bed? It might have +been the firelight that made you think you saw the peacocks nodding, but +it couldn't have been the firelight that made you think you saw Dudu." + +"No," said Hugh, "I can't understand it either. If it was a dream it was +a very queer one, for I never felt more awake in my life. I'll tell you +what, Jeanne, the next time I think I see Dudu like that I'll run and +tell you." + +"Yes, do," said Jeanne, "though I don't know that it would be much good. +Dudu's dreadfully tricky." + +She had not told Hugh of the trick the raven had played her, though why +she had not done so she could hardly have explained. Perhaps she was a +little ashamed of having been so frightened; perhaps she was still a +little afraid of Dudu; and most of all, I think, she had a great +curiosity to find out more about the mysterious bird, and thought it +best to leave Hugh to face his own adventures. + +"If Dudu thinks I've told Cheri all about his funny ways," she thought, +"perhaps he'll be angry and not do any more queer things." + +The snow was still, as I said, thick on the ground, thicker, indeed, +than the day before. But the children managed to amuse themselves very +well. Marcelline would not hear of their going out, not even as far as +the chickens' house, but she fetched Nibble to pay them a visit in the +afternoon, and they had great fun with him. + +"He looks very happy, doesn't he, Cheri?" said Jeanne. "I am sure Houpet +has been kind to him. What a pity pets can't speak, isn't it? they could +tell us such nice funny things." + +"Yes," said Hugh, "I've often thought that, and I often have thought +Nibble could speak if he liked." + +"_Houpet_ could, I'm quite sure," said Jeanne, "and I believe Dudu and +he do speak to each other. You should just see them sometimes. Why, +there they are!" she added, going close up to the window near which she +had been standing. "Do come here, Cheri, quick, but come very quietly." + +Hugh came forward and looked out. There were the four birds, making the +quaintest group you could fancy. Houpet with his waving tuft of feathers +was perched on the top rung of a short garden ladder, his two little +hens as usual close beside him. And down below on the path stood the +raven, on one leg of course, his queer black head very much on one side, +as he surveyed the little group above him. + +"Silly young people," he seemed to be saying to himself; but Houpet was +not to be put down so. With a shrill, clear crow he descended from his +perch, stepped close up to Dudu, looked him in the face, and then +quietly marched off, followed by his two companions. The children +watched this little scene with the greatest interest. + +"They _do_ look as if they were talking to each other," said Hugh. "I +wonder what it's about." + +"Perhaps it's about the party," said Jeanne; "the party you said you'd +give to the peacocks on the wall, and all the pets." + +"Perhaps," said Hugh. "I am sure there must be beautiful big rooms in +that castle with the lots of steps up to it, where the peacocks stand. +Don't you think it would be nice to get inside that castle and see what +it's like?" + +"Oh, wouldn't it!" said Jeanne, clapping her hands. "How I do wish we +could! You might tell Dudu to take us, Cheri. Perhaps it's a fairy +palace really, though it only looks like a picture, and if Dudu's a +fairy, he might know about it." + +"I'll ask him if I get a chance," said Hugh. "Good morning, Monsieur +Dudu," he went on, bowing politely from the window to the raven, who had +cocked his head in another direction, and seemed now to be looking up at +the two children with the same supercilious stare he had bestowed upon +the cock and hens. "Good morning, Monsieur Dudu; I hope you won't catch +cold with this snowy weather. It's best to be very polite to him, you +see," added Hugh, turning to Jeanne; "for if he took offence we should +get no fun out of him." + +"Oh yes," said Jeanne, "it is much best to be very polite to him. Look +at him now, Cheri; _doesn't_ he look as if he knew what we were saying?" + +For Dudu was eyeing them unmistakably by this time, his head more on one +side than ever, and his lame leg stuck out in the air like a +walking-stick. + +"That's _just_ how he stood at the foot of the bed, on the wood part, +you know," said Hugh, in a whisper. + +"And weren't you frightened, Cheri?" said Jeanne. "I always think Dudu +looks not at all like a good fairy, when he cocks his head on one side +and sticks his claw out like that. I quite believe then that he's a +wicked enchanter. O Cheri," she went on, catching hold of Hugh, "what +_should_ we do if he was to turn us into two little frogs or toads?" + +"We should have to live in the water, and eat nasty little worms and +flies, I suppose," said Hugh gravely. + +"And that sort of thick green stuff that grows at the top of dirty +ponds; fancy having that for soup," said Jeanne pathetically. "O Cheri, +we must indeed be very polite to Dudu, and take _great_ pains not to +offend him; and if he comes to you in the night, you must be sure to +call me at once." + +But the following night and several nights after that went by, and +nothing was heard or seen of Monsieur Dudu. The weather got a little +milder; that is to say, the snow gradually melted away, and the children +were allowed to go out into the garden and visit their pets. Nibble +seemed quite at home in his new quarters, and was now permitted to run +about the chicken-house at his own sweet will; and Jeanne greatly +commended Houpet for his kindness to the little stranger, which +commendation the chicken received in very good part, particularly when +it took the shape of all the tit-bits left on the children's plates. + +"See how tame he is," said Jeanne one day when she had persuaded the +little cock to peck some crumbs out of her hand; "isn't he a darling, +Cheri, with his _dear_ little tuft of feathers on the top of his head?" + +"He's awfully funny-looking," said Hugh, consideringly; "do you really +think he's very pretty, Jeanne?" + +"Of course I do," said Jeanne, indignantly; "all my pets are pretty, but +Houpet's the prettiest of all." + +"He's prettier than Grignan, certainly," said Hugh, giving an amiable +little push to the tortoise, who happened to be lying at his feet; "but +I like Grignan, he's so comical." + +"I think Grignan must know a great deal," said Jeanne, "he's so solemn." + +"So is Dudu," said Hugh. "By the by, Jeanne," he went on, but stopped +suddenly. + +"What?" said Jeanne. + +"It just came into my head while we were talking that I must have +dreamt of Dudu again last night; but now I try to remember it, it has +all gone out of my head." + +"_What_ a pity," said Jeanne; "do try to remember. Was it that he came +and stood at the foot of the bed again, like the last time? You promised +to call me if he did." + +"No, I don't think he did. I have more a sort of feeling that he and the +peacocks on the wall were whispering to each other--something about +us--you and me, Jeanne--it was, I think." + +"Perhaps they were going to give a party, and were planning about +inviting us," suggested Jeanne. + +"I don't know," said Hugh; "it's no good my trying to think. It's just a +sleepy feeling of having heard something. I can't remember anything +else, and the more I think, the less I remember." + +"Well, you must be sure to tell me if you do hear anything more. I was +awake ever so long in the night, ever so long; but I didn't mind, there +was such nice moonlight." + +"Moonlight, was there?" said Hugh; "I didn't know that. I'll try to keep +awake to-night, because Marcelline says the figures on the walls are so +pretty when it's moonlight." + +"And if Dudu comes, or you see anything funny, you'll promise to call +me?" said Jeanne. + +Hugh nodded his head. There was not much fear of his forgetting his +promise. Jeanne reminded him of it at intervals all that day, and when +the children kissed each other for good-night she whispered again, +"Remember to call me, Cheri." + +Cheri went to sleep with the best possible intentions as to +"remembering." He had, first of all, intended not to go to sleep at all, +for his last glance out of the window before going to bed showed him +Monsieur Dudu on the terrace path, enjoying the moonlight apparently, +but, Hugh strongly suspected, bent on mischief, for his head was very +much on one side and his claw very much stuck out, in the way which +Jeanne declared made him look like a very impish raven indeed. + +"I wonder what Marcelline meant about the moonlight," thought Hugh to +himself as he lay down. "I hardly see the figures on the wall at all. +The moon must be going behind a cloud. I wonder if it will be brighter +in the middle of the night. I don't see that I need stay awake all the +night to see. I can easily wake again. I'll just take a little sleep +first." + +And the little sleep turned out such a long one, that when poor Hugh +opened his eyes, lo and behold! it was to-morrow morning--there was +Marcelline standing beside the bed, telling him it was time to get up, +he would be late for his tutor if he did not dress himself at once. + +"Oh dear," exclaimed Hugh, "what a pity! I meant to stay awake all night +to watch the moonlight." + +Marcelline smiled what Jeanne called her funny smile. + +"You would find it very difficult to do that, I think, my little +Monsieur," she said. "However, you did not miss much last night. The +clouds came over so that the moon had no chance. Perhaps it will be +clearer to-night." + +With this hope Hugh had to be satisfied, and to satisfy also his little +cousin, who was at first quite disappointed that he had nothing +wonderful to tell her. + +"To-night," she said, "_I_ shall stay awake all night, and if the +moonlight is very nice and bright I shall come and wake _you_, you +sleepy Cheri. I do _so_ want to go up those steps and into the castle +where the peacocks are standing at the door." + +"So do I," said Hugh, rather mortified; "but if one goes to sleep, +whose fault is it? I am sure you will go to sleep too, if you try to +keep awake. There's _nothing_ makes people go to sleep so fast as trying +to keep awake." + +"Well, don't try then," said Jeanne, "and see what comes then." + +And when night came, Hugh, partly perhaps because he was particularly +sleepy--the day had been so much finer that the children had had some +splendid runs up and down the long terrace walk in the garden, and the +unusual exercise had made both of them very ready for bed when the time +came--took Jeanne's advice, tucked himself up snugly and went off to +sleep without thinking of the moonlight, or the peacocks, or Dudu, or +anything. He slept so soundly, that when he awoke he thought it was +morning, and brighter morning than had hitherto greeted him since he +came to Jeanne's home. + +"Dear me!" he said to himself, rubbing his eyes, "it must be very late; +it looks just as if summer had come," for the whole room was flooded +with light--such beautiful light--bright and clear, and yet soft. No +wonder that Hugh rubbed his eyes in bewilderment--it was not till he sat +up in bed and looked well about him, quite awake now, that he saw that +after all it was moonlight, not sunshine, which was illumining the old +tapestry room and everything which it contained in this wonderful way. + +"Oh, how pretty it is!" thought Hugh. "No wonder Marcelline told us that +we should see the tapestry in the moonlight. I never could have thought +it would have looked so pretty. Why, even the peacocks' tails seem to +have got all sorts of new colours." + +He leant forward to examine them better. They were standing--just as +usual--one on each side of the flight of steps leading up to the castle. +But as Hugh gazed at them it certainly seemed to him--could it be his +fancy only?--no, it _must_ be true--that their long tails grew longer +and swept the ground more majestically--then that suddenly--fluff! a +sort of little wind seemed to rustle for an instant, and fluff! again, +the two peacocks had spread their tails, and now stood with them proudly +reared fan-like, at their backs, just like the real living birds that +Hugh had often admired in his grandfather's garden. Hugh was too much +amazed to rub his eyes again--he could do nothing but stare, and stare +he did with all his might, but for a moment or two there was nothing +else to be seen. The peacocks stood still--so still that Hugh now +began to doubt whether they had not always stood, tails spread, just as +he saw them now, and whether these same tails having ever drooped on the +ground was not altogether his fancy. A good deal puzzled, and a little +disappointed, he was turning away to look at another part of the +pictured walls, when again a slight flutter of movement caught his eyes. +What was about to happen this time? + +[Illustration:--"IT WAS DUDU!"--p. 51.] + +"Perhaps they are going to furl their tails again," thought Hugh; but +no. One on each side of the castle door, the peacocks solemnly advanced +a few steps, then stood still--quite still--but yet with a certain +waiting look about them as if they were expecting some one or something. +They were not kept waiting long. The door of the castle opened slowly, +very slowly, the peacocks stepped still a little farther forward, and +out of the door of the castle--the castle into which little Jeanne had +so longed to enter--who, what, who _do_ you think came forth? It was +Dudu! + +A small black figure, black from head to foot, head very much cocked on +one side, foot--claw I should say--stuck out like a walking-stick; he +stood between the peacocks, right in Hugh's view, just in front of the +door which had closed behind him, at the top of the high flight of +steps. He stood still with an air of great dignity, which seemed to say, +"Here you see me for the first time in my rightful character--monarch of +all I survey." And somehow Hugh felt that this unspoken address was +directed to _him_. Then, quietly and dignifiedly still, the raven +turned, first to the right, then to the left, and gravely bowed to the +two attendant peacocks, who each in turn saluted him respectfully and +withdrew a little farther back, on which Dudu began a very slow and +imposing progress down the steps. How he succeeded in making it so +imposing was the puzzle, for after all, his descent was undoubtedly a +series of hops, but all the same it was very majestic, and Hugh felt +greatly impressed, and watched him with bated breath. + +"One, two, three, four," said Hugh to himself, half unconsciously +counting each step as the raven advanced, "what a lot of steps! Five, +six, seven," up to twenty-three Hugh counted on. And "what is he going +to do now?" he added, as Dudu, arrived at the foot of the stairs, looked +calmly about him for a minute or two, as if considering his next +movements. Then--how he managed it Hugh could not tell--he suddenly +stepped out of the tapestry landscape, and in another moment was +perched in his old place at the foot of Hugh's bed. + +He looked at Hugh for an instant or two, gravely and scrutinisingly, +then bowed politely. Hugh, who was half sitting up in bed, bowed too, +but without speaking. He remembered Jeanne's charges to be very polite +to the raven, and thought it better to take no liberties with him, but +to wait patiently till he heard what Monsieur Dudu had to say. For +somehow it seemed to him a matter of course that the raven _could_ +speak--he was not the very least surprised when at last Dudu cleared his +throat pompously and began-- + +"You have been expecting me, have you not?" + +Hugh hesitated. + +"I don't know exactly. I'm not quite sure. Yes, I think I thought +perhaps you'd come. But oh! if you please, Monsieur Dudu," he exclaimed, +suddenly starting up, "do let me go and call Jeanne. I promised her I +would if you came, or if I saw anything funny. Do let me go. I won't be +a minute." + +But the raven cocked his head on one side and looked at Hugh rather +sternly. + +"No," he said. "You cannot go for Jeanne. I do not wish it at present." + +Hugh felt rather angry. Why should Dudu lay down the law to him in this +way? + +"But I promised," he began. + +"People should not promise what they are not sure of being able to +perform," he said sententiously. "Besides, even if you did go to get +Jeanne, she couldn't come. She is ever so far away." + +"Away!" repeated Hugh in amazement, "away! Little Jeanne gone away. Oh +no, you must be joking Du--, I beg your pardon, Monsieur Dudu." + +"Not at all," said Dudu. "She _is_ away, and farther away than you or +she has any notion of, even though if you went into her room you would +see her little rosy face lying on the pillow. _She_ is away." + +Hugh still looked puzzled, though rather less so. + +"You mean that her thinking is away, I suppose," he said. "But I could +wake her." + +Again the raven cocked his head on one side. + +"No," he said. "You must be content to do my way at present. Now, tell +me what it is you want. Why did you wish me to come to see you?" + +"I wanted--at least I thought, and Jeanne said so," began Hugh. "We +thought perhaps you were a fairy, Monsieur Dudu, and that you could take +us into the castle in the tapestry. It looked so bright and real a few +minutes ago," he added, turning to the wall, which was now only faintly +illumined by the moonlight, and looked no different from what Hugh had +often seen it in the daytime. "What has become of the beautiful light, +Monsieur Dudu? And the peacocks? They have shut up their tails +again----" + +"Never mind," said the raven. "So you want to see the castle, do you?" +he added. + +"Yes," said Hugh; "but not so much as Jeanne. It was she wanted it most. +She wants dreadfully to see it. _I_ thought," he added, rather timidly, +"_I_ thought we might play at giving a party in the castle, and inviting +Houpet, you know, and Nibble." + +"_Only_," observed the raven, drily, "there is one little objection to +that. _Generally_--I may be mistaken, of course, my notions are very +old-fashioned, I daresay--but, _generally_, people give parties in their +own houses, don't they?" + +And as he spoke he looked straight at Hugh, cocking his head on one side +more than ever. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE FOREST OF THE RAINBOWS. + + "Rose and amethyst, gold and grey." + "ONCE." + + +Hugh felt rather offended. It was natural that he should do so, I think. +At least I am sure that in his place I too should have felt hurt. He had +said nothing to make the raven speak in that disagreeably sarcastic way. + +"I wish Jeanne were here," he said to himself; "she would think of +something to put him down a little." + +But aloud he said nothing, so, great was his surprise, when the raven +coolly remarked in answer to his unspoken thoughts, + +"So Jeanne could put me down, you think? I confess, I don't agree with +you. However, never mind about that. We shall be very good friends in +time. And now, how about visiting the castle?" + +"I should like to go," replied Hugh, thinking it wiser, all things +considered, to get over his offended feelings. "I should like to see +the castle very much, though I should have liked Jeanne to be with me; +but still," he went on, reflecting that Jeanne would be extremely +disappointed if he did not make the most of his present opportunity, +such as it was, "if you will be so kind as to show me the way, Monsieur +Dudu, I'd like to go, and then, any way, I can tell Jeanne all about +it." + +"I cannot exactly show you the way," said the raven, "I am only the +guardian on this side. But if you will attend to what I say, you will +get on very well. Here, in the first place, is a pair of wall-climbers +to put on your feet." + +He held out his claw, on the end of which hung, by a narrow ribbon, two +round little cushions about the size of a macaroon biscuit. Hugh took +them, and examined them curiously. They were soft and elastic, what Hugh +in his own words would have described as "blobby." They seemed to be +made of some stuff like indiarubber, and were just the colour of his +skin. + +"What funny things!" said Hugh. + +"They are made after the pattern of the fly's wall-climbers," remarked +the raven. "Put them on--tie them on, that is to say, so that they will +be just in the middle of your foot, underneath of course. That's right; +now jump out of bed and follow me," and before Hugh knew what he was +doing he found himself walking with the greatest ease straight up the +wall to where the long flight of steps to the tapestry castle began. On +the lowest steps the raven stopped a moment. + +"Shall I take them off now?" asked Hugh. "I don't need them to walk up +steps with." + +"Take them off?" said the raven; "oh dear no. When you don't need them +they won't incommode you, and they'll be all ready for the next time. +Besides, though it mayn't seem so to you, these steps are not so easy to +get up as you think. At least they wouldn't be without the +wall-climbers." + +_With_ them, however, nothing could have been easier. Hugh found himself +in no time at the top of the flight of steps in front of the door from +which the raven had come out. The peacocks, now he was close to them, +seemed to him larger than ordinary peacocks, but the brilliant colours +of their feathers, which he had noticed in the bright moonlight, had +disappeared. It was light enough for him to distinguish their figures, +but that was all. + +"I must leave you now," said the raven; "but you will get on very well. +Only remember these two things--don't be impatient, and don't take off +your wall-climbers; and if you are very much at a loss about anything, +call me." + +"How shall I call you?" asked Hugh. + +"Whistle softly three times. Now, I think it is time to light up. +Peacocks." + +The peacocks, one on each side of the door, came forward solemnly, +saluting the raven with the greatest respect. + +"Ring," said the raven, and to Hugh's surprise each peacock lifted up a +claw, and taking hold of a bell-rope, of which there were two, one on +each side of the door, pulled them vigorously. No sound ensued, but at +the instant there burst forth the same soft yet brilliant light which +had so delighted Hugh when he first awoke, and which he now discovered +to come not from the moon, still shining in gently at the window of the +tapestry room down below, but from those of the castle at whose door he +was standing. He had never before noticed how many windows it had. +Jeanne and he had only remarked the door at the top of the steps, but +now the light which flowed out from above him was so clear and brilliant +that it seemed as if the whole castle must be transparent. Hugh stood +in eager expectation of what was to happen next, and was on the point of +speaking to the raven, standing, as he thought, beside him, when a +sudden sound made him turn round. It was that of the castle door +opening, and at the same moment the two peacocks, coming forward, pushed +him gently, one at each side, so that Hugh found himself obliged to +enter. He was by no means unwilling to do so, but he gave one last look +round for his conductor. He was gone. + +For about half a second Hugh felt a little frightened and bewildered. + +"I wish Dudu had come with me," he said. But almost before he had time +to think the wish, what he saw before him so absorbed his attention that +he forgot everything else. + +It was a long, long passage, high in the roof, though narrow of course +in comparison with its length, but wide enough for Hugh--for Hugh and +Jeanne hand-in-hand even--to walk along with perfect comfort and great +satisfaction, for oh, it was so prettily lighted up! You have, I +daresay, children, often admired in London or Paris, or some great town, +the rows of gas lamps lighting up at night miles of some very long +street. Fancy those lights infinitely brighter and clearer, and yet +softer than any lamps you ever saw, and each one of a different colour, +from the richest crimson to the softest pale blue, and you will have +some idea how pretty the long corridor before him looked to Hugh. He +stepped along delightedly, as well he might. "Why, this of itself is +worth staying awake ever so many nights to see," he said to himself; +"only I do wish Jeanne were with me." + +Where did the corridor lead to? He ran on and on for some time without +thinking much about this, so interested was he in observing the lamps +and the pretty way in which the tints were arranged; but after a while +he began to find it a little monotonous, especially when he noticed that +at long intervals the colours repeated themselves, the succession of +shades beginning again from time to time. + +"I shall learn them by heart if I go on here much longer," thought Hugh. +"I think I'll sit down a little to rest. Not that I feel tired of +walking, but I may as well sit down a little." + +He did so--on the ground, there was nothing else to sit on--and then a +very queer thing happened. The lamps took to moving instead of him, so +that when he looked up at them the impression was just the same as when +he himself had been running along. The colours succeeded each other in +the same order, and Hugh began to wonder whether his eyes were not +deceiving him in some queer way. + +"Anyhow, I'll run on a little farther," he said to himself, "and if I +don't come to the end of this passage soon, I'll run back again to the +other end. It feels just as if I had got inside a kaleidoscope." + +He hastened on, and was beginning really to think of turning back again +and running the other way, when, all of a sudden--everything in this +queer tapestry world he had got into seemed to happen all of a sudden--a +little bell was heard to ring, clear and silvery, but not very loud, and +in another instant--oh dear!--all the pretty coloured lamps were +extinguished, and poor Hugh was left standing all in the dark. Where he +was he did not know, what to do he did not know; had he not been eight +years old on his last birthday I almost think he would have begun to +cry. He felt, too, all of a sudden so cold, even though before he had +got out of bed he had taken the precaution to put on his red flannel +dressing-gown, and till now had felt quite pleasantly warm. It was only +for half a moment, however, that the idea of crying came over him. + +"I'm very glad poor little Jeanne isn't here," he said to himself by way +of keeping up his own courage; "she _would_ have been afraid. But as I'm +a boy it doesn't matter. I'll just try to find my way all the same. I +suppose it's some trick of that Dudu's." + +He felt his way along bravely for a few minutes, and more bravely still +was forcing back his tears, when a sound caught his ears. It was a +cock's crow, sharp and shrill, but yet sounding as if outside the place +where he was. Still it greatly encouraged Hugh, who continued to make +his way on in the dark, much pleased to find that the farther he got the +nearer and clearer sounded the crow, repeated every few seconds. And at +last he found himself at the end of the passage--he knew it must be so, +for in front of him the way was barred, and _quite_ close to him now +apparently, sounded the cock's shrill call. He pushed and pulled--for +some time in vain. If there were a door at this end of the passage, as +surely there must be--who would make a passage and hang it so +beautifully with lamps if it were to lead to nowhere?--it was a door of +which the handle was very difficult to find. + +"Oh dear!" exclaimed Hugh, half in despair, "what shall I do?" + +"Kurroo--kurroorulloo," sounded the cock's crow. "Try again," it seemed +to say, encouragingly. And at last Hugh's hand came in contact with a +little round knob, and as he touched it, all at once everything about +him was lighted up again with the same clear, lovely light coming from +the thousands of lamps down the long corridor behind him. But Hugh never +turned to look at them--what he saw in front of him was so delightful +and surprising. + +The door had opened, Hugh found himself standing at the top of two or +three steps, which apparently were the back approach to the strange long +passage which he had entered from the tapestry room. Outside it was +light too, but not with the wonderful bright radiance that had streamed +out from the castle at the other side. Here it was just very soft, very +clear moonlight. There were trees before him--almost it seemed as if he +were standing at the entrance of a forest. But, strange to say, they +were not winter trees, such as he had left behind him in the garden of +Jeanne's house--bare and leafless, or if covered at all, covered only +with their Christmas dress of snow and icicles--these trees were clothed +with the loveliest foliage, fresh and green and feathery, which no +winter's storms or nipping frosts had ever come near to blight. And in +the little space between the door where Hugh stood and these wonderful +trees was drawn up, as if awaiting him, the prettiest, queerest, most +delicious little carriage that ever was seen. It was open; the cushions +with which it was lined were of rose-coloured plush--not velvet, I +think; at least if they _were_ velvet, it was of some marvellous kind +that couldn't he rubbed the wrong way, that felt exquisitely smooth and +soft whichever way you stroked it; the body of the carriage was shaped +something like a cockle-shell; you could lie back in it so beautifully +without cricking or straining your neck or shoulders in the least; and +there was just room for two. One of these two was already comfortably +settled--shall I tell you who it was now, or shall I keep it for a +tit-bit at the end when I have quite finished about the carriage? Yes, +that will be better. For the funniest things about the carriage have to +be told yet. Up on the box, in the coachman's place, you understand, +holding with an air of the utmost importance in one claw a pair of +yellow silk reins, his tufted head surmounted by a gold-laced livery +hat, which, however, must have had a hole in the middle to let the tuft +through, for there it was in all its glory waving over the hat like a +dragoon's plume, sat, or stood rather, Houpet; while, standing behind, +holding on each with one claw to the back of the carriage, like real +footmen, were the two other chickens. They, too, had gold-laced hats and +an air of solemn propriety, not _quite_ so majestic as Houpet's, for in +their case the imposing tuft was wanting, but still very fine of its +kind. And who do you think were the horses? for there were two--or, to +speak more correctly, there were no horses at all, but in the place +where they should have been were harnessed, tandem-fashion, not abreast, +Nibble the guinea-pig and Grignan the tortoise! Nibble next to the +carriage, Grignan, of all creatures in the world, as leader. + +On sight of them Hugh began to laugh, so that he forgot to look more +closely at the person in the carriage, whose face he had not yet seen, +as it was turned the other way. But the sound of his laughing was too +infectious to be resisted--the small figure began to shake all over, and +at last could contain itself no longer. With a shout of merriment little +Jeanne, for it was she, sprang out of the carriage and threw her arms +round Hugh's neck. + +"O Cheri," she said, "I _couldn't_ keep quiet any longer, though I +wanted to hide my face till you had got into the carriage, and then +surprise you. But it was so nice to hear you laugh--I _couldn't_ keep +still." + +Hugh felt too utterly astonished to reply. He just stared at Jeanne as +if he could not believe his own eyes. And Jeanne did not look surprised +at all! That, to Hugh, was the most surprising part of the whole. + +"Jeanne!" he exclaimed, "you here! Why, Dudu told me you were ever so +far away." + +"And so I am," replied Jeanne, laughing again, "and so are you, Cheri. +You have no idea how far away you are--miles, and miles, and miles, only +in this country they don't have milestones. It's all quite different." + +"How do you mean?" asked Hugh. "How do you know all about it? You have +never been here before, have you? I couldn't quite understand Dudu--_he_ +meant, I think, that it was only your thinking part or your fancying +part, that was away." + +Jeanne laughed again, Hugh felt a little impatient. + +"_Jeanne_," he said, "do leave off laughing and speak to me. What is +this place? and how did you come here? and have you ever been here +before?" + +"Yes," said Jeanne, "I think so; but I don't know how I came. And I +don't want to do anything but laugh and have fun. Never mind how we +came. It's a beautiful country, any way, and did you _ever_ see anything +so sweet as the little carriage they've sent for us, and wasn't it nice +to see Houpet and all the others?" + +"Yes," said Hugh, "very. But whom do you mean by 'they,' Jeanne?" + +"Oh dear, dear!" exclaimed Jeanne, "what a terrible boy you are. Do +leave off asking questions, and let us have fun. Look, there are Grignan +and the little cochon quite eager to be off. Now, do jump in--we shall +have such fun." + +Hugh got in, willingly enough, though still he would have preferred to +have some explanation from Jeanne of all the strange things that were +happening. + +"_Isn't_ it nice?" said Jeanne, when they had both nestled down among +the delicious soft cushions of the carriage. + +"Yes," said Hugh, "it's very nice _now_, but it wasn't very nice when I +was all alone in the dark in that long passage. As you seem to know all +about everything, Jeanne, I suppose you know about that." + +He spoke rather, just a very little, grumpily, but Jeanne, rather to his +surprise, did not laugh at him this time. Instead, she looked up in his +face earnestly, with a strange deep look in her eyes. + +"I think very often we have to find our way in the dark," she said +dreamily. "I think I remember about that. But," she went on, with a +complete change of voice, her eyes dancing merrily as if they had never +looked grave in their life, "it's not dark now, Cheri, and it's going to +be ever so bright. Just look at the lovely moon through the trees. Do +let us go now. Gee-up, gee-up, crack your whip, Houpet, and make them +gallop as fast as you can." + +Off they set--they went nice and fast certainly, but not so fast but +that the children could admire the beautiful feathery foliage as they +passed. They drove through the forest--for the trees that Hugh had so +admired were those of a forest--on and on, swiftly but yet smoothly; +never in his life had Hugh felt any motion so delightful. + +"_What_ a good coachman Houpet is!" exclaimed Hugh. "I never should have +thought he could drive so well. How does he know the road, Jeanne?" + +"There isn't any road, so he doesn't need to know it," said Jeanne. +"Look before you, Cheri. You see there is no road. It makes itself as we +go, so we can't go wrong." + +Hugh looked straight before him. It was as Jeanne had said. The trees +grew thick and close in front, only dividing--melting away like a +mist--as the quaint little carriage approached them. + +Hugh looked at them with fresh surprise. + +"Are they not real trees?" he said. + +"Of course they are," said Jeanne. "Now they're beginning to change; +that shows we are getting to the middle of the forest. Look, look, +Cheri!" + +Hugh "looked" with all his eyes. What Jeanne called "changing" was a +very wonderful process. The trees, which hitherto had been of a very +bright, delicate green, began gradually to pale in colour, becoming +first greenish-yellow, then canary colour, then down to the purest +white. And from white they grew into silver, sparkling like innumerable +diamonds, and then slowly altered into a sort of silver-grey, gradually +rising into grey-blue, then into a more purple-blue, till they reached +the richest corn-flower shade. Then began another series of lessening +shades, which again, passing through a boundary line of gold, rose by +indescribable degrees to deep yet brilliant crimson. It would be +impossible to name all the variations through which they passed. I use +the names of the colours and shades which are familiar to you, +children, but the very naming any shade gives an unfair idea of the +marvellous delicacy with which one tint melted into another,--as well +try to divide and mark off the hues of a dove's breast, or of the sky at +sunset. And all the time the trees themselves were of the same form and +foliage as at first, the leaves--or fronds I feel inclined to call them, +for they were more like very, very delicate ferns or ferny grass than +leaves--with which each branch was luxuriantly clothed, seeming to bathe +themselves in each new colour as the petals of a flower welcome a flood +of brilliant sunshine. + +"Oh, how pretty!" said Hugh, with a deep sigh of pleasure. "It is like +the lamps, only much prettier. I think, Jeanne, this must be the country +of pretty colours." + +"This forest is called the Forest of the Rainbows. I know _that_," said +Jeanne. "But I don't think they call this the country of pretty colours, +Cheri. You see it is the country of so many pretty things. If we lived +in it always, we should never see the end of the beautiful things there +are. Only----" + +"Only what?" asked Hugh. + +"I don't think it would be a good plan to live in it _always_. Just +sometimes is best, I think. Either the things wouldn't be so pretty, or +our eyes wouldn't see them so well after a while. But see, Cheri, the +trees are growing common-coloured again, and Houpet is stopping. We must +have got to the end of the Forest of the Rainbows." + +"And where shall we be going to now?" asked Hugh. "Must we get out, do +you think, Jeanne? Oh, listen, I hear the sound of water! Do you hear +it, Jeanne? There must be a river near here. I wish the moonlight was a +little brighter. Now that the trees don't shine, it seems quite dull. +But oh, how plainly I hear the water. Listen, Jeanne, don't you hear it +too?" + +"Yes," said Jeanne. "It must be----" but before she had time to say more +they suddenly came out of the enchanted forest; in an instant every +trace of the feathery trees had disappeared. Houpet pulled up his +steeds, the two chickens got down from behind, and stood one on each +side of the carriage door, waiting apparently for their master and +mistress to descend. And plainer and nearer than before came the sound +of fast-rushing water. + +"You see we are to get down," said Hugh. + +"Yes," said Jeanne again, looking round her a little timidly. "Cheri, do +you know, I feel just a very, very little bit frightened. It is such a +queer place, and I don't know what we should do. Don't you think we'd +better ask Houpet to take us back again?" + +"Oh no," said Hugh. "I'm sure we'll be all right. You said you wanted to +have some fun, Jeanne, and you seemed to know all about it. You needn't +be frightened with _me_, Jeanne." + +"No, of course not," said Jeanne, quite brightly again; "but let us +stand up a minute, Hugh, before we get out of the carriage, and look all +about us. _Isn't_ it a queer place?" + +"It" was a wide, far-stretching plain, over which the moonlight shone +softly. Far or near not a shrub or tree was to be seen, yet it was not +like a desert, for the ground was entirely covered with most beautiful +moss, so fresh and green, even by the moonlight, that it was difficult +to believe the hot sunshine had ever glared upon it. And here and there, +all over this great plain--all over it, at least, as far as the children +could see--rose suddenly from the ground innumerable jets of water, not +so much like fountains as like little waterfalls turned the wrong way; +they rushed upwards with such surprising force and noise, and fell to +the earth again in numberless tiny threads much more gently and softly +than they left it. + +"It seems as if somebody must be shooting them up with a gun, doesn't +it?" said Hugh. "I never saw such queer fountains." + +"Let's go and look at them close," said Jeanne, preparing to get down. +But before she could do so, Houpet gave a shrill, rather peremptory +crow, and Jeanne stopped short in surprise. + +"What do you want, Houpet?" she said. + +By way of reply, Houpet hopped down from his box, and in some +wonderfully clever way of his own, before the children could see what he +was about, had unharnessed Nibble and Grignan. Then the three arranged +themselves in a little procession, and drew up a few steps from the side +of the carriage where still stood the chicken-footmen. Though they could +not speak, there was no mistaking their meaning. + +"They're going to show us the way," said Hugh; and as he spoke he jumped +out of the carriage, and Jeanne after him. + +[Illustration: ONWARDS QUIETLY STEPPED THE LITTLE PROCESSION.--p. 75.] + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +FROG-LAND. + + "They have a pretty island, + Whereon at night they rest; + They have a sparkling lakelet, + And float upon its breast." + THE TWO SWANS. + + +Onwards quietly stepped the little procession, Houpet first, his tuft +waving as usual, with a comfortable air of importance and satisfaction; +then Nibble and Grignan abreast--hand-in-hand, I was going to have said; +next Hugh and Jeanne; with the two attendant chickens behind bringing up +the rear. + +"I wonder where they are going to take us to," said Hugh in a low voice. +Somehow the soft light; the strange loneliness of the great plain, +where, now that they were accustomed to it, the rushing of the +numberless water-springs seemed to be but one single, steady sound; the +solemn behaviour of their curious guides, altogether, had subdued the +children's spirits. Jeanne said no more about "having fun," yet she did +not seem the least frightened or depressed; she was only quiet and +serious. + +"Where _do_ you think they are going to take us to?" repeated Hugh. + +"I don't know--at least I'm not sure," said Jeanne; "but, Cheri, isn't +it a good thing that Houpet and the others are with us to show us the +way, for though the ground looks so pretty it is quite boggy here and +there. I notice that Houpet never goes quite close to the fountains, and +just when I went the least bit near one a minute ago my feet began to +slip down." + +"I haven't felt it like that at all," said Hugh. "Perhaps it's because +of my wall-climbers. Dudu gave me a pair of wall-climbers like the +flies', you know, Jeanne." + +"Did he?" said Jeanne, not at all surprised, and as if wall-climbers +were no more uncommon than goloshes. "He didn't give me any, but then I +came a different way from you. I think every one comes a different way +to this country, do you know, Cheri?" + +"And very likely Dudu thought I could carry you if there was anywhere +you couldn't climb," said Hugh, importantly. "I'm sure I----" he stopped +abruptly, for a sudden crow from Houpet had brought all the party to a +standstill. At first the children could not make out why their guide had +stopped here--there was nothing to be seen. But pressing forward a few +steps to where Houpet stood, Hugh saw, imbedded in the moss at his feet, +a stone with a ring in it, just like those which one reads of in the +_Arabian Nights_. Houpet stood at the edge of the stone eyeing it +gravely, and somehow he managed to make Hugh understand that he was to +lift it. Nothing loth, but rather doubtful as to whether he would be +strong enough, the boy leant forward to reach the ring, first +whispering, however, to Jeanne, + +"It's getting like a quite real fairy tale, isn't it, Jeanne?" + +Jeanne nodded, but looked rather anxious. + +"I'm _afraid_ you can't lift it, Cheri," she said. "I think I'd better +stand behind and pull _you_--the ring isn't big enough for us both to +put our hands in it." + +Hugh made no objection to her proposal, so Jeanne put her arms round his +waist, and when he gave a great pug to the ring she gave a great pug to +him. The first time it was no use, the stone did not move in the least. + +"Try again," said Hugh, and try again they did. But no--the second try +succeeded no better than the first--and the children looked at each +other in perplexity. Suddenly there was a movement among the animals, +who had all been standing round watching the children's attempts; Jeanne +felt a sort of little pecking tug at her skirts--how it came about I +cannot say, but I think I forgot to tell you that, unlike Hugh in his +red flannel dressing gown, _she_ was arrayed for their adventures in her +best Sunday pelisse, trimmed with fur--and, looking round, lo and +behold! there was Houpet holding on to her with his beak, then came +Nibble, his two front paws embracing Houpet's feathered body, Grignan +behind him again, clutching with his mouth at Nibble's fur, and the two +chickens at the end holding on to Grignan and each other in some +indescribable and marvellous way. It was, for all the world, as if they +were preparing for the finish-up part of the game of "oranges and +lemons," or for that of "fox and geese!" + +The sight was so comical that it was all the children could do to keep +their gravity, they succeeded in doing so, however, fearing that it +might hurt the animals' feelings to seem to make fun of their well-meant +efforts. + +"Not that _they_ can be any use," whispered Hugh, "but it's very +good-natured of them all the same." + +"I am not so sure that they can't be of any use," returned Jeanne. +"Think of how well Houpet drove." + +"Here goes, then," said Hugh. "One, two, _three_;" and with "three" he +gave a tremendous tug--a much more tremendous tug than was required, +for, to his surprise, the stone yielded at once without the slightest +resistance, and back they all fell, one on the top of the other, Hugh, +Jeanne, Houpet, Nibble, Grignan, and the two chickens! But none of them +were any the worse, and with the greatest eagerness to see what was to +be seen where the stone had been, up jumped Hugh and Jeanne and ran +forward to the spot. + +"There should be," said Jeanne, half out of breath--"there _should_ be a +little staircase for us to go down, if it is like the stories in the +_Arabian Nights_." + +And, wonderful to relate, so there was! The children could hardly +believe their eyes, when below them they saw the most tempting little +spiral staircase of white stone or marble steps, with a neat little +brass balustrade at one side. It looked quite light all the way down, +though of course they could distinguish nothing at the bottom, as the +corkscrew twists of the staircase entirely filled up the space. + +Houpet hopped forward and stood at the top of the steps crowing softly. + +"He means that we're to go down," said Hugh. "Shall we?" + +"Of course," said Jeanne. "I'm not a bit afraid. We won't have any fun +if we don't go on." + +"Well then," said Hugh, "I'll go first as I'm a boy, just _in case_, you +know, Jeanne, of our meeting anything disagreeable." + +So down he went, Jeanne following close after. + +"I suppose Houpet and the others will come after us," said Jeanne, +rather anxiously. But just as she uttered the words a rather shrill crow +made both Hugh and her stop short and look up to the top. They saw +Houpet and the others standing round the edge of the hole. Houpet gave +another crow, in which the two chickens joined him, and then suddenly +the stone was shut down--the two children found themselves alone in this +strange place, leading to they knew not where! Jeanne gave a little +cry--Hugh, too, for a moment was rather startled, but he soon recovered +himself. + +"Jeanne," he said, "it must be all right. I don't think we need be +frightened. See, it is quite light! The light comes up from below--down +there it must be quite bright and cheerful. Give me your hand--if we go +down sideways--so--we can hold each other's hands all the way." + +So, in a rather queer fashion, they clambered down the long staircase. +By the time they got to its end they were really quite tired of turning +round and round so many times. But now the view before them was so +pleasant that they forgot all their troubles. + +They had found a little door at the foot of the stair, which opened +easily. They passed through it, and there lay before them a beautiful +expanse of water surrounded by hills; the door which had closed behind +them seemed on this side to have been cut out of the turf of the hill, +and was all but invisible. It was light, as Hugh had said, but not with +the light of either sun or moon; a soft radiance was over everything, +but whence it came they could not tell. The hills on each side of the +water, which was more like a calmly flowing river than a lake, prevented +their seeing very far, but close to the shore by which they stood a +little boat was moored--a little boat with seats for two, and one light +pair of oars. + +"Oh, how lovely!" said Jeanne. "It is even nicer than the carriage. Get +in, Hugh, and let us row down the river. The boat must be on purpose for +us." + +They were soon settled in it, and Hugh, though he had only rowed once or +twice before in his life, found it very easy and pleasant, and they went +over the water swiftly and smoothly. After a while the hills approached +more nearly, gradually the broad river dwindled to a mere stream, so +narrow and small at last, that even their tiny boat could go no farther. +Hugh was forced to leave off rowing. + +"I suppose we are meant to go on shore here," he said. "The boat won't +go any farther, any way." + +Jeanne was peering forward: just before them the brook, or what still +remained of it, almost disappeared in a narrow little gorge between the +hills. + +"Cheri," said she, "I shouldn't wonder if the stream gets wider again on +the other side of this little narrow place. Don't you think we'd better +try to pull the boat through, and then we might get into it again?" + +"Perhaps," said Hugh. "We may try." So out the children got--Jeanne +pulled in front, Hugh pushed behind. It was so very light that there was +no difficulty as to its weight; only the gorge was so narrow that at +last the boat stuck fast. + +"We'd better leave it and clamber through ourselves," said Hugh. + +"But, O Cheri, we can't!" cried Jeanne. "From where I am I can see that +the water gets wider again a little farther on. And the rocks come quite +sharp down to the side. There is nowhere we could clamber on to, and I +dare say the water is very deep. There are lots of little streams +trickling into it from the rocks, and the boat could go quite well if we +could but get it a little farther." + +"But we can't," said Hugh; "it just won't go." + +"Oh dear," said Jeanne, "we'll have to go back. But how should we find +the door in the hillside to go up the stair; or if we did get up, how +should we push away the stone? And even then, there would be the forest +to go through, and perhaps we couldn't find our way among the trees as +Houpet did. O Cheri, what shall we do?" + +Hugh stood still and considered. + +"I think," he said at last, "I think the time's come for whistling." + +And before Jeanne could ask him what he meant, he gave three clear, +short whistles, and then waited to see the effect. + +It was a most unexpected one. Hugh had anticipated nothing else than the +sudden appearance, somehow and somewhere, of Monsieur Dudu himself, as +large as life--possibly, in this queer country of surprises, where they +found themselves, a little larger! When and how he would appear Hugh was +perfectly at a loss to imagine--he might fly down from the sky; he +might spring up from the water; he might just suddenly stand before them +without their having any idea how he had come. Hugh laughed to himself +at the thought of Jeanne's astonishment, and after all it was Jeanne who +first drew his attention to what was really happening. + +"Hark, Cheri, hark!" she cried, "what a queer noise! What can it be?" + +Hugh's attention had been so taken up in staring about in every +direction for the raven that he had not noticed the sound which Jeanne +had heard, and which now increased every moment. + +It was a soft, swishy sound--as if innumerable little boats were making +their way through water, or as if innumerable little fairies were +bathing themselves, only every instant it came nearer and nearer, till +at last, on every side of the boat in which the children were still +standing, came creeping up from below lots and lots and _lots_ of small, +bright green frogs, who clambered over the sides and arranged themselves +in lines along the edges in the most methodical and orderly manner. +Jeanne gave a scream of horror, and darted across the boat to where Hugh +was standing. + +"O Cheri," she cried, "why did you whistle? It's all that naughty Dudu. +He's going to turn us into frogs too, I do believe, because he thinks I +laughed at him. Oh dear, oh dear, what shall we do?" + +Cheri himself, though not quite so frightened as Jeanne, was not much +pleased with the result of his summons to the raven. + +"It does look like a shabby trick," he said; "but still I do not think +the creatures mean to do us any harm. And I don't feel myself being +turned into a frog yet; do you, Jeanne?" + +"I don't know," said Jeanne, a very little comforted; "I don't know what +it would feel like to be turned into a frog; I've always been a little +girl, and so I can't tell. I feel rather creepy and chilly, but perhaps +it's only with seeing the frogs. What funny red eyes they've got. What +can they be going to do?" + +She forgot her fears in the interest of watching them; Hugh, too, stared +with all his eyes at the frogs, who, arranged in regular lines round the +edge of the boat, began working away industriously at something which, +for a minute or two, the children could not make out. At last Jeanne +called out eagerly, + +"They are throwing over little lines, Cheri--lots and lots of little +lines. There must be frogs down below waiting to catch them." + +So it was; each frog threw over several threads which he seemed to +unwind from his body; these threads were caught by something invisible +down below, and twisted round and round several times, till at last they +became as firm and strong as a fine twine. And when, apparently, the +frogs considered that they had made cables enough, they settled +themselves down, each firmly on his two hind legs, still holding by the +rope with their front ones, and then--in another moment--to the +children's great delight, they felt the boat beginning to move. It moved +on smoothly--almost as smoothly as when on the water--there were no jogs +or tugs, as might have been the case if it had been pulled by two or +three coarse, strong ropes, for all the hundreds of tiny cables pulling +together made one even force. + +"Why, how clever they are!" cried Jeanne. "We go as smoothly as if we +were on wheels. Nice little frogs. I am sure we are very much obliged to +them--aren't we, Cheri?" + +"And to Dudu," observed Hugh. + +Jeanne shrugged her shoulders. She was not over and above sure of Dudu +even now. + +The boat moved along for some time; the pass between the hills was dark +and gloomy, and though the water got wider, as Jeanne had seen, it would +not for some distance have been possible for the children to row. After +a time it suddenly grew much lighter; they came out from the narrow pass +and found themselves but a few yards from a sheet of still water with +trees all round it--a sort of mountain lake it seemed, silent and +solitary, and reflecting back from its calm bosom the soft, silvery, +even radiance which since they came out from the door on the hillside +had been the children's only light. + +And in the middle of this lake lay a little island--a perfect nest of +trees, whose long drooping branches hung down into the water. + +"Oh, do let us row on to the island," said Jeanne eagerly, for by this +time the frogs had drawn them to the edge of the lake; there could no +longer be any difficulty in rowing for themselves. + +"First, any way, we must thank the frogs," said Hugh, standing up. He +would have taken off his cap if he had had one on; as it was, he could +only bow politely. + +As he did so, each frog turned round so as to face him, and each gave a +little bob of the head, which, though not very graceful, was evidently +meant as an acknowledgment of Hugh's courtesy. + +"They are very polite frogs," whispered Hugh. "Jeanne, do stand up and +bow to them too." + +Jeanne, who all this time had been sitting with her feet tucked up under +her, showed no inclination to move. + +"I don't like to stand up," she said, "for fear the frogs should run up +my legs. But I can thank them just as well sitting down. Frogs," she +added, "frogs, I am very much obliged to you, and I hope you will excuse +my not standing up." + +The frogs bowed again, which was very considerate of them; then suddenly +there seemed a movement among them, those at the end of the boat drew +back a little, and a frog, whom the children had not hitherto specially +observed, came forward and stood in front of the others. He was bigger, +his colour was a brighter green, and his eyes more brilliantly red. He +stood up on his hind legs and bowed politely. Then, after clearing his +throat, of which there was much need, for even with this precaution it +sounded very croaky, he addressed the children. + +"Monsieur and Mademoiselle," he began, "are very welcome to what we have +done for them--the small service we have rendered. Monsieur and +Mademoiselle, I and my companions"--"He should say, 'My companions and +I,'" whispered Jeanne--"are well brought up frogs. We know our place in +society. We disapprove of newfangled notions. We are frogs--we desire to +be nothing else, and we are deeply sensible of the honour Monsieur and +Mademoiselle have done us by this visit." + +"He really speaks very nicely," said Jeanne in a whisper. + +"Before Monsieur and Mademoiselle bid us farewell--before they leave our +shores," continued the frog with a wave of his "top legs," as Jeanne +afterwards called them, "we should desire to give them what, without +presumption, I may call a treat. Monsieur and Mademoiselle are, +doubtless, aware that in our humble way we are artists. Our +weakness--our strength I should rather say--is music. Our croaking +concerts are renowned far and wide, and by a most fortunate coincidence +one is about to take place, to celebrate the farewell--the departure to +other regions--of a songster whose family fame for many ages has been +renowned. Monsieur and Mademoiselle, to-night is to be heard for the +first time in this century the 'Song of the Swan.'" + +"The song of the swan," repeated Hugh, rather puzzled; "I didn't know +swans ever sang. I thought it was just an old saying that they sing once +only--when they are dying." + +The frog bowed. + +"Just so," he said; "it is the truth. And, therefore, the extreme +difficulty of assisting at so unique a performance. It is but +seldom--not above half-a-dozen times in the recollection of the oldest +of my venerated cousins, the toads, that such an opportunity has +occurred--and as to whether human ears have _ever_ before been regaled +with what you are about to enjoy, you must allow me, Monsieur and +Mademoiselle, with all deference to your race, for whom naturally we +cherish the highest respect, to express a doubt." + +"It's a little difficult to understand quite what he means, isn't it, +Cheri?" whispered Jeanne. "But, of course, we mustn't say so. It might +hurt his feelings." + +"Yes," agreed Hugh, "it might. But we must say something polite." + +"You say it," said Jeanne. "I really daren't stand up, and it's not so +easy to make a speech sitting down." + +"Monsieur Frog, we are very much obliged to you," began Hugh. "Please +tell all the other frogs so too. We would like very much to hear the +concert. When does it begin, and where will it be?" + +"All round the lake the performers will be stationed," replied the frog +pompously. "The chief artist occupies the island which you see from +here. If you move forward a little--to about half-way between the shore +and the island--you will, I think, be excellently placed. But first," +seeing that Hugh was preparing to take up the oars, "first, you will +allow us, Monsieur and Mademoiselle, to offer you a little +collation--some slight refreshment after all the fatigues of your +journey to our shores." + +"Oh dear! oh dear!" whispered Jeanne in a terrible fright; "please say +'No, thank you,' Cheri. I _know_ they'll be bringing us that horrid +green stuff for soup." + +"Thank you very much," said Hugh; "you are very kind indeed, Monsieur +Frog, only, really, we're not hungry." + +"A little refreshment--a mere nothing," said the frog, waving his hands +in an elegantly persuasive manner. "Tadpoles"--in a brisk, authoritative +tone--"tadpoles, refreshments for our guests." + +Jeanne shivered, but nevertheless could not help watching with +curiosity. Scores of little tadpoles came hopping up the sides of the +boat, each dozen or so of them carrying among them large water-lily +leaves, on each of which curious and dainty-looking little cakes and +bonbons were arranged. The first that was presented to Jeanne contained +neat little biscuits about the size of a half-crown piece, of a tempting +rich brown colour. + +"Flag-flour cakes," said the frog. "We roast and grind the flour in our +own mills. You will find them good." + +Jeanne took one and found it very good. She would have taken another, +but already a second tray-ful or leaf-ful was before her, with +pinky-looking balls. + +"Those are made from the sugar of water-brambles," remarked the frog, +with a self-satisfied smile. "No doubt you are surprised at the delicacy +and refinement of our tastes. Many human beings are under the deplorable +mistake of supposing we live on slimy water and dirty insects--ha, ha, +ha! whereas our cuisine is astounding in variety and delicacy of +material and flavour. If it were not too late in the season, I wish you +could have tasted our mushroom pates and minnows' eggs vols-au-vent." + +"Thank you," said Hugh, "what we have had is very nice indeed." + +"I _couldn't_ eat minnows' eggs," whispered Jeanne, looking rather +doubtfully at the succession of leaf trays that continued to appear. She +nibbled away at some of the least extraordinary-looking cakes, which the +frog informed her were made from the pith of rushes roasted and ground +down, and then flavoured with essence of marsh marigold, and found them +nearly as nice as macaroons. Then, having eaten quite as much as they +wanted, the tadpoles handed to each a leaf of the purest water, which +they drank with great satisfaction. + +"Now," said Hugh, "we're quite ready for the concert. Shall I row out to +the middle of the lake, Monsieur Frog?" + +"Midway between the shore and the island," said the frog; "that will be +the best position;" and, as by this time all the frogs that had been +sitting round the edge of the boat had disappeared, Hugh took the oars +and paddled away. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE SONG OF THE SWAN. + + "----If I were on that shore, + I should live there and not die, but sing evermore." + JEAN INGELOW. + + +"About here will do, I should think--eh, Monsieur Frog?" said Hugh, +resting on his oars half-way to the island. But there was no answer. The +frog had disappeared. + +"What a queer way all these creatures behave, don't they, Jeanne?" he +said. "First Dudu, then Houpet and the others. They go off all of a +sudden in the oddest way." + +"I suppose they have to go when we don't need them any more," said +Jeanne. "I daresay they are obliged to." + +"Who obliges them?" said Hugh. + +"Oh, I don't know! The fairies, I suppose," said Jeanne. + +"Was it the fairies you meant when you kept saying 'they'?" asked Hugh. + +"I don't know--perhaps--it's no use asking me," said Jeanne. "Fairies, +or dream-spirits, or something like that. Never mind who they are if +they give us nice things. I am sure the frogs have been _very_ kind, +haven't they?" + +"Yes; you won't be so afraid of them now, will you, Jeanne?" + +"Oh, I don't know. I daresay I shall be, for they're quite different +from _our_ frogs. Ours aren't so bright green, and their eyes aren't +red, and they can't _talk_. Oh no, our frogs are quite different from +_theirs_, Cheri," she added with profound conviction. + +"Just like our trees and everything else, I suppose," said Hugh. +"Certainly this is a funny country. But hush, Jeanne! I believe the +concert's going to begin." + +They sat perfectly still to listen, but for a minute or two the sound +which had caught Hugh's attention was not repeated. Everything about +them was silent, except that now and then a soft faint breeze seemed to +flutter across the water, slightly rippling its surface as it passed. +The strange, even light which had shone over all the scene ever since +the children had stepped out at the hillside door had now grown paler: +it was not now bright enough to distinguish more than can be seen by an +autumn twilight. The air was fresh and clear, though not the least cold; +the drooping forms of the low-hanging branches of the island trees gave +the children a melancholy feeling when they glanced in that direction. + +"I don't like this very much," said Jeanne. "It makes me sad, and I +wanted to have fun." + +"It must be sad for the poor swan if it's going to die," said Hugh. "But +I don't mind this sort of sad feeling. I think it's rather nice. Ah! +Jeanne, listen, there it is again. They must be going to begin." + +"It" was a low sort of "call" which seemed to run round the shores of +the lake like a preliminary note, and then completely died away. +Instantly began from all sides the most curious music that Hugh and +Jeanne had ever heard. It was croaking, but croaking in unison and +regular time, and harsh as it was, there was a very strange charm about +it--quite impossible to describe. It sounded pathetic at times, and at +times monotonous, and yet inspiriting, like the beating of a drum; and +the children listened to it with actual enjoyment. It went on for a good +while, and then stopped as suddenly as it had begun; and then again, +after some minutes of perfect silence, it recommenced in a low and +regular chant--if such a word can be used for croaking--a steady, +regular croak, croak, as if an immense number of harsh-sounding +instruments were giving forth one note in such precise tune and measure +that the harshness was softened and lost by the union of sound. It grew +lower and lower, seeming almost to be about to die altogether away, +when, from another direction--from the tree-shaded island in the centre +of the lake--rose, low and faint at first, gathering strange strength as +it mounted ever higher and higher, the song of the swan. + +The children listened breathlessly and in perfect silence to the +wonderful notes which fell on their ears--notes which no words of mine +could describe, for in themselves they were words, telling of suffering +and sorrow, of beautiful things and sad things, of strange fantastic +dreams, of sunshine and flowers and summer days, of icy winds from the +snow-clad hills, and days of dreariness and solitude. Each and all came +in their turn; but, at the last, all melted, all grew rather, into one +magnificent song of bliss and triumph, of joyful tenderness and +brilliant hope, too pure and perfect to be imagined but in a dream. And +as the last clear mellow notes fell on the children's ears, a sound of +wings seemed to come with them, and gazing ever more intently towards +the island they saw rising upwards the pure white snow-like +bird--upwards and upwards, ever higher, till at last, with the sound of +its own joyous song, it faded and melted into the opal radiance of the +calm sky above. + +For long the children gazed after it--a spot of light seemed to linger +for some time in the sky just where it had disappeared--almost, to their +fancy, as if the white swan was resting there, again to return to earth. +But it was not so. Slowly, like the light of a dying star, the +brightness faded; there was no longer a trace of the swan's radiant +flight; again a soft low breeze, like a farewell sigh, fluttered across +the lake, and the children withdrew their eyes from the sky and looked +at each other. + +"Jeanne!" said Hugh. + +"Cheri!" said Jeanne. + +"What was it? Was it not an angel, and not a swan?" + +Jeanne shook her little head in perplexity. + +"I don't know," she said. "It was wonderful. Did you hear all it told, +Cheri?" + +"Yes," said Hugh. "But no one could ever tell it again, Jeanne. It is a +secret for us." + +"And for the frogs," added Jeanne. + +"And for the frogs," said Hugh. + +"But," said Jeanne, "I thought the swan was going to die. _That_ was not +dying." + +"Yes," said the queer croaking voice of the frog, suddenly reappearing +on the edge of the boat; "yes, my children," he repeated, with a strange +solemnity, "for such as the swan that _is_ dying. And now once more--for +you will never see me again, nor revisit this country--once again, my +children, I bid you farewell." + +He waved his hands in adieu, and hopped away. + +"Cheri," said Jeanne, after a short silence, "I feel rather sad, and a +very little sleepy. Do you think I might lie down a little--it is not +the least cold--and take a tiny sleep? You might go to sleep too, if you +like. I should think there will be time before we row back to the shore, +only I do not know how we shall get the boat through the narrow part if +the frogs have all gone. And no doubt Houpet and the others will be +wondering why we are so long." + +"We can whistle for Dudu again if we need," said Hugh. "He helped us +very well the last time. I too am rather sleepy, Jeanne, but still I +think I had better not go _quite_ asleep. You lie down, and I'll just +paddle on very slowly and softly for a little, and when you wake up +we'll fix whether we should whistle or not." + +Jeanne seemed to fall asleep in a moment when she lay down. Hugh paddled +on quietly, as he had said, thinking dreamily of the queer things they +had seen and heard in this nameless country inside the tapestry door. He +did not feel troubled as to how they were to get back again; he had +great faith in Dudu, and felt sure it would all come right. But +gradually he too began to feel very sleepy; the dip of the oars and the +sound of little Jeanne's regular breathing seemed to keep time together +in a curious way. And at last the oars slipped from Hugh's hold; he lay +down beside Jeanne, letting the boat drift; he was so _very_ sleepy, he +could keep up no more. + +But after a minute or two when, not _quite_ asleep, he lay listening to +the soft breathing of the little girl, it seemed to him he heard still +the gentle dip of the oars. The more he listened, the more sure he +became that it was so, and at last his curiosity grew so great that it +half overcame his drowsiness. He opened his eyes just enough to look up. +Yes, he was right, the boat was gliding steadily along, the oars were +doing their work, and who do you think were the rowers? Dudu on one +side, Houpet on the other, rowing away as cleverly as if they had never +done anything else in their lives, steadying themselves on one claw, +rowing with the other. Hugh did not feel the least surprised; he smiled +sleepily, and turned over quite satisfied. + +"They'll take us safe back," he said to himself: and that was all he +thought about it. + +"Good-night, Cheri, good-night," was the next thing he heard, or +remembered hearing. + +Hugh half sat up and rubbed his eyes. + +Where was he? + +Not in the boat, there was no sound of oars, the light that met his gaze +was not that of the strange country where Jeanne and he had had all +these adventures, it was just clear ordinary moonlight; and as for where +he was, he was lying on the floor of the tapestry room close to the part +of the wall where stood, or hung, the castle with the long flight of +steps, which Jeanne and he had so wished to enter. And from the other +side of the tapestry--from inside the castle, one might almost say--came +the voice he had heard in his sleep, the voice which seemed to have +awakened him. + +"Good-night, Cheri," it said, "good-night. I have gone home the other +way." + +"Jeanne, Jeanne, where are you? Wait!" cried Hugh, starting to his feet. +But there was no reply. + +Hugh looked all round. The room seemed just the same as usual, and if he +had looked out of the window, though this he did not know, he would have +seen the old raven on the terrace marching about, and, in his usual +philosophical way, failing the sunshine, enjoying the moonlight; while +down in the chickens' house, in the corner of the yard, Houpet and his +friends were calmly roosting; fat little Nibble soundly sleeping in his +cage, cuddled up in the hay; poor, placid Grignan reposing in his usual +corner under the laurel bush. All these things Hugh would have seen, and +would no doubt have wondered much at them. But though neither tired nor +cold, he was still sleepy, very sleepy, so, after another stare all +round, he decided that he would defer further inquiry till the morning, +and in the meantime follow the advice of Jeanne's farewell "good-night." + +And "after all," he said to himself, as he climbed up into his +comfortable bed, "after all, bed is very nice, even though that little +carriage was awfully jolly, and the boat almost better. What fun it will +be to talk about it all to-morrow morning with Jeanne." + +It was rather queer when to-morrow morning came--when he woke to find it +had come, at least; it was rather queer to see everything looking just +the same as on other to-morrow mornings. Hugh had not time to think very +much about it, for it had been Marcelline's knock at the door that had +wakened him, and she told him it was rather later than usual. Hugh, +however, was so eager to see Jeanne and talk over with her their +wonderful adventures that he needed no hurrying. But, to his surprise, +when he got to Jeanne's room, where as usual their "little breakfast" +was prepared for them on the table by the fire, Jeanne was seated on her +low chair, drinking her coffee in her every-day manner, not the least +different from what she always was, not in any particular hurry to see +him, nor, apparently, with anything particular to say. + +"Well, Cheri," she said, merrily, "you are rather late this morning. +Have you slept well?" + +Hugh looked at her; there was no mischief in her face; she simply meant +what she said. In his astonishment, Hugh rubbed his eyes and then stared +at her again. + +"Jeanne," he said, quite bewildered. + +"Well, Cheri," she repeated, "what is the matter? How funny you look!" +and in her turn Jeanne seemed surprised. + +Hugh looked round; old Marcelline had left the room. + +"Jeanne," he said, "it is so queer to see you just the same as usual, +with nothing to say about it all." + +"About all what?" said Jeanne, seemingly more and more puzzled. + +"About our adventures--the drive in the carriage, with Houpet as +coachman, and the stair down to the frog's country, and the frogs and +the boat, and the concert, and O Jeanne! the song of the swan." + +Jeanne opened wide her eyes. + +"Cheri!" she said, "you've been dreaming all these funny things." + +Hugh was so hurt and disappointed that he nearly began to cry. + +"O Jeanne," he said, "it is very unkind to say that," and he turned away +quite chilled and perplexed. + +Jeanne ran after him and threw her arms round his neck. + +"Cheri, Cheri," she said, "I didn't mean to vex you, but I _don't_ +understand." + +Hugh looked into her dark eyes with his earnest blue ones. + +"Jeanne," he said, "don't you remember _any_ of it--don't you remember +the trees changing their colours so prettily?--don't you remember the +frogs' banquet?" + +Jeanne stared at him so earnestly that she quite frowned. + +"I think--I think," she said, and then she stopped. "When you say that +of the trees, I think I did see rainbow colours all turning into each +other. I think, Cheri, part of me was there and part not; can there be +two of me, I wonder? But please, Cheri, don't ask me any more. It +puzzles me so, and then perhaps I may say something to vex you. Let us +play at our day games now, Cheri, and never mind about the other things. +But if you go anywhere else like that, ask the fairies to take me too, +for I always like to be with you, you know, Cheri." + +So they kissed and made friends. But still it seemed very queer to Hugh. +Till now Jeanne had always been eager to talk about the tapestry castle, +and full of fancies about Dudu and Houpet and the rest of the animals, +and anxious to hear Hugh's dreams. Now she seemed perfectly content with +her every-day world, delighted with a new and beautiful china +dinner-service which her godmother had sent her, and absorbed in cooking +all manner of wonderful dishes for a grand dolls' feast, for which she +was sending invitations to all her dolls, young and old, ugly and +pretty, armless, footless, as were some, in the perfection of Parisian +toilettes as were others. For she had, like most only daughters, an +immense collection of dolls, though she was not as fond of them as many +little girls. + +"I thought you didn't much care for dolls. It was one of the things I +liked you for at the first," said Hugh, in a slightly aggrieved tone of +voice. Lessons were over, and the children were busy at the important +business of cooking the feast. Hugh didn't mind the cooking; he had even +submitted to a paper cap which Jeanne had constructed for him on the +model of that of the "chef" downstairs; he found great consolation in +the beating up an egg which Marcelline had got for them as a great +treat, and immense satisfaction in watching the stewing, in one of +Jeanne's toy pans on the nursery fire, of a preparation of squashed +prunes, powdered chocolate, and bread crumbs, which was to represent a +"ragout a la"--I really do not remember what. + +"I thought you didn't care for dolls, Jeanne," Hugh repeated. "It would +be ever so much nicer to have all the animals at our feast. We could put +them on chairs all round the table. That _would_ be some fun." + +"They wouldn't sit still one minute," said Jeanne. "How funny you are to +think of such a thing, Cheri! Of course it would be fun if they _would_, +but fancy Dudu and Grignan helping themselves with knives and forks like +people." + +Jeanne burst out laughing at the idea, and laughed so heartily that Hugh +could not help laughing too. But all the same he said to himself, + +"I'm sure Dudu and the others _could_ sit at the table and behave like +ladies and gentlemen if they chose. How _very_ funny of Jeanne to forget +about all the clever things they did! But it is no use saying any more +to her. It would only make us quarrel. There must be two Jeannes, or +else 'they,' whoever they are, make her forget on purpose." + +And as Hugh, for all his fancifulness, was a good deal of a philosopher, +he made up his mind to amuse himself happily with little Jeanne as she +was. The feast was a great success. The dolls behaved irreproachably, +with which their owner was rather inclined to twit Hugh, when, just at +the end of the banquet, greatly to his satisfaction, a certain +Mademoiselle Zephyrine, a blonde with flaxen ringlets and turquoise +blue eyes, suddenly toppled over, something having no doubt upset her +equilibrium, and fell flat on her nose on the table. + +"Ah!" cried Jeanne, greatly concerned, "my poor Zephyrine has fainted," +and, rushing forward to her assistance, worse results followed. Mesdames +Lili and Josephine, two middle-aged ladies somewhat the worse for wear, +overcome by the distressing spectacle, _or_ by the sleeve of Jeanne's +dress as she leant across them, fell off their chairs too--one, like +Zephyrine, on to the table, the other on to the floor, dragging down +with her the plateful of ragout in front of her, while her friend's +sudden descent upon the table completed the general knockings over and +spillings which Zephyrine had begun. + +"Oh dear! oh dear!" cried Jeanne; "all the chocolate ragout is spilt, +and the whipped-up egg is mixed with the orange-juice soup. Oh dear! oh +dear! and I thought we should have had the whole feast to eat up +ourselves after the dolls had had enough." + +"Yes," said Hugh, "that's what comes of having stupid sticks of dolls at +your feasts. The _animals_ wouldn't have behaved like that." + +But, seeing that poor Jeanne was really in tears at this unfortunate +termination of her entertainment, he left off teasing her, and having +succeeded in rescuing some remains of the good things, they sat down on +the floor together and ate them up very amicably. + +"I don't think I _do_ care much for dolls," said Jeanne meditatively, +when she had munched the last crumbs of the snipped-up almonds, which +were supposed to represent some very marvellous dish. ("I like almonds +terribly--don't you, Cheri?") she added, as a parenthesis. "No, I don't +care for dolls. You are quite right about them; they _are_ stupid, and +you can't make fancies about them, because their faces always have the +same silly look. I don't know what I like playing at best. O +Marcelline!" she exclaimed, as the old nurse just then came into the +room, "O Marcelline! _do_ tell us a story; we are tired of playing." + +"Does Monsieur Cheri, too, wish me tell him a story?" asked Marcelline, +looking curiously at Hugh. + +"Yes, of course," said Hugh. "Why do you look at me that funny way, +Marcelline?" + +"Why," said Marcelline, smiling, "I was thinking only that perhaps +Monsieur finds so many stories in the tapestry that he would no longer +care for my stupid little old tales." + +Hugh did not answer. He was wondering to himself what Marcelline really +meant; whether she knew of the wonders concealed behind the tapestry, or +was only teasing him a little in the kind but queer way she sometimes +did. + +"Marcelline," he said suddenly at last, "I don't understand you." + +"Do you understand yourself, my little Monsieur?" said Marcelline. "Do +any of us understand ourselves? all the different selves that each of us +is?" + +"No," said Hugh, "I daresay we don't. It is very puzzling; it's all very +puzzling." + +"In the country where I lived when I was a little girl," began +Marcelline, but Jeanne interrupted her. + +"Have you never been there since, Marcelline?" she asked. + +Marcelline smiled again her funny smile. + +"Oh dear, yes," she said; "often, very often. I should not have been +near so happy as I am if I had not often visited that country." + +"Dear me," exclaimed Jeanne, "how very queer! I had no idea of that. You +haven't been there for a great many years any way, Marcelline. I heard +mamma telling a lady the other day that she never remembered your going +away, not even for a day--never since she was born." + +"Ah!" said Marcelline, "but, Mademoiselle, we don't always know what +even those nearest us do. I might have gone to that country without your +mamma knowing. Sometimes we are far away when those beside us think us +close to them." + +"Yes," said Hugh, looking up suddenly, "that is true, Marcelline." + +What she said made him remember Dudu's remark about Jeanne the night +before, that she was far, far away, and he began to feel that Marcelline +understood much that she seldom alluded to. + +But Jeanne took it up differently. She jumped on to Marcelline's knee +and pretended to beat her. + +"You naughty little old woman," she said; "you very naughty little old +woman, to say things like that to puzzle me--just what you know I don't +like. Go back to your own country, naughty old Marcelline; go back to +your fairyland, or wherever it was you came from, if you are going to +tease poor little Jeanne so." + +"_Tease_ you, Mademoiselle?" Marcelline repeated. + +"Yes, tease me," insisted Jeanne. "You know I hate people to go on +about things I don't understand. Now you're to tell us a story at once, +do you hear, Marcelline?" + +Hugh said nothing, but he looked up in Marcelline's face with his grave +blue eyes, and the old woman smiled again. She seemed as if she was +going to speak, when just then a servant came upstairs to say that +Jeanne's mother wished the children to go downstairs to her for a +little. Jeanne jumped up, delighted to welcome any change. + +"You must keep the story for another day, Marcelline," she said, as she +ran out of the room. + +"I am getting too old to tell stories," said Marcelline, half to +herself, half to Hugh, who was following his cousin more slowly. He +stopped for a moment. + +"Too old?" he repeated. + +"Yes, Monsieur Cheri, too old," the nurse replied. "The thoughts do not +come so quickly as they once did, and the words, too, hobble along like +lamesters on crutches." + +"But," said Hugh, half timidly, "it is never--you would never, I mean, +be too old to visit that country, where there are so many stories to be +found?" + +"Perhaps not," said Marcelline, "but even if I found them, I might not +be able to tell them. Go and look for them for yourself, Monsieur +Cheri; you have not half seen the tapestry castle yet." + +But when Hugh would have asked her more she would not reply, only smiled +and shook her head. So the boy went slowly downstairs after Jeanne, +wondering what old Marcelline could mean, half puzzled and half pleased. + +"Only," he said to himself, "if I get into the castle, Jeanne really +must come with me, especially if it is to hear stories." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +WINGS AND CATS. + + "And all their cattish gestures plainly spoke + They thought the affair they'd come upon no joke." + CHARLES LAMB. + + +Some days went on, and nothing more was said by the children about the +adventures which had so puzzled poor Hugh. After a while he seemed to +lose the wish to talk about them to little Jeanne; or rather, he began +to feel as if he could not, that the words would not come, or that if +they did, they would not tell what he wanted. He thought about the +strange things he had seen very often, but it was as if he had read of +them rather than as if he had seen and heard them, or as if they had +happened to some one else. Whenever he saw Dudu and Houpet and the rest +of the pets, he looked at them at first in a half dreamy way, wondering +if they too were puzzled about it all, or if, being really fairies, they +did not find anything to puzzle them! The only person (for, after all, +he could often not prevent himself from looking upon all the animals as +persons)--the only person who he somehow felt sure _did_ understand him, +was Marcelline, and this was a great satisfaction. She said nothing; she +almost never even smiled in what Jeanne called her "funny" way; but +there was just a very tiny little undersound in the tone of her voice +sometimes, a little wee smile in her eyes more than on her lips, that +told Hugh that, fairy or no fairy, old Marcelline knew all about it, and +it pleased him to think so. + +One night when Hugh was warmly tucked up in bed Marcelline came in as +usual before he went to sleep to put out his light. + +"There's been no moonlight for a good while Marcelline, has there?" he +said. + +"No, Monsieur, there has not," said Marcelline. + +"Will it be coming back soon?" asked Hugh. + +"Do you like it so much, my child?" said the old nurse. She had a funny +way of sometimes answering a question by asking another. + +"Yes," said Hugh. "At least, of course when I'm fast asleep it doesn't +matter to me if it's moonlight or not. But you know what I like it for, +Marcelline, and you said the other day that I hadn't half seen the +tapestry castle, and I want very much to see it, Marcelline, only I'd +like Jeanne to be with me; for I don't think I could tell her well about +the fairy things if she hadn't been with me. She didn't seem to +understand the words, and I don't think I could get the right ones to +tell, do you know, Marcelline?" + +He half sat up in bed, resting his head on his elbow, which was leaning +on the pillow, and looking up in the old woman's face with his earnest +blue eyes. Marcelline shook her head slowly. + +"No," she said, "you're right. The words wouldn't come, and if they did, +it would be no use. You're older than Mademoiselle Jeanne, Monsieur +Hugh, and it's different for her. But it doesn't matter--the days bring +their own pleasures and interests, which the moonlight wouldn't suit. +You wouldn't have cared for a dinner like what you have every day when +you were listening to the song of the swan?" + +"No, certainly not," said Hugh. "I see you do understand, Marcelline, +better than anybody. It must be as I said; there must be two of me, and +two of Jeanne, and two of you, and----" + +"And two of everything," said Marcelline; "and the great thing is to +keep each of the twos in its right place." + +She smiled now, right out, and was turning away with the light in her +hand, when Hugh called after her, + +"_Will_ the moonlight nights come again soon, Marcelline? Do tell me. +I'm sure you know." + +"Have a little patience," said the old nurse, "you shall be told. Never +fear." + +And, a little inclined to be _im_patient, Hugh was nevertheless obliged +to shut his eyes and go to sleep. There was no moonlight _that_ night +any way. + +But not many nights after there came a great surprise. + +Curiously enough Hugh had gone to sleep _that_ night without any thought +of tapestry adventures. He and Jeanne had been very merry indeed; they +had been dressing up, and playing delightful tricks--such as tapping at +the salon door, and on being told to come in, making their appearance +like two very, very old peasants, hobbling along on sticks--Jeanne with +a cap and little knitted shawl of Marcelline's, Hugh with a blouse and +cotton nightcap, so that Jeanne's mother quite jumped at first sight of +the quaint little figures. Then Jeanne dressed up like a fairy, and +pretended to turn Hugh into a guinea-pig, and they got Nibble up into +the nursery, and Hugh hid in a cupboard, and tried to make his voice +sound as if it came from Nibble, and the effect of his ventriloquism was +so comical that the children laughed till they actually rolled on the +floor. And they had hardly got over the laughing--though Marcelline did +her best to make them sit still for half an hour or so before going to +bed--when it was time to say good-night and compose themselves to sleep. + +"I shan't be able to go to sleep for ever so long," said Hugh; "I shall +stay awake all the night, I believe." + +"Oh no, you won't," said Marcelline, with a smile, as she went off with +the light. + +And strange to say, hardly had she shut the door when Hugh did fall +asleep--soundly asleep. He knew no more about who he was, or where he +was, or anything--he just slept as soundly as a little top, without +dreaming or starting in the least, for--dear me, I don't know for how +long!--any way it must have been for several hours, when--in the strange +sudden way in which once or twice before it had happened to him to awake +in this curious tapestry room, he opened his eyes as if startled by an +electric shock, and gazed out before him, as much awake as if he had +never been asleep in his life. + +What had awakened him, and what did he see? He could hardly have told +what had awakened him but for what he _now_ saw and heard. A voice, a +very well-known little voice, was speaking to him. "Cheri dear," it +said, "Cheri, I have come for you. And see what I have got for you." And +there before him stood little Jeanne--but Jeanne as he had never seen +her before. She seemed all glistening and shining--her dress was of some +kind of sparkling white, and round her waist was a lovely silver +girdle--her sleeves too were looped up with silver bands, and, prettiest +of all, two snow-white wings were fastened to her shoulders. She looked +like a fairy queen, or like a silvery bird turned into a little girl. +And in her hand she held another pair of wings exactly like her own. + +Hugh gazed at her. + +"Have you been dressing up?" he said, "and in the middle of the night? +oh how funny! But O, Jeanne, how pretty you look!" + +Jeanne laughed merrily. "Come, get up quick, then," she said, "and I'll +make you pretty too. Only I can't promise you a head-dress like mine, +Cheri." + +She gave her head a little toss, which made Hugh look at it. And now he +noticed that on it she wore something very funny indeed, which at first, +being black--for Jeanne's hair, you know, was black too--had not caught +his attention. At first he thought it was some kind of black silk hood +or cap, such as he had seen worn by some of the peasants in Switzerland, +but looking again--no, it was nothing of the kind--the head-dress had a +head of its own, and as Hugh stared, it cocked it pertly on one side in +a way Hugh would have known again anywhere. Yes, it was Dudu, sitting on +Jeanne's smooth little head as comfortably as if he had always been +intended to serve the purpose of a bonnet. + +"Dudu!" exclaimed Hugh. + +"Of course," said Jeanne. "You didn't suppose we could have gone without +him, Cheri." + +"Gone where?" said Hugh, quite sitting up in bed by this time, but still +a good deal puzzled. + +"Up into the tapestry castle," said Jeanne, "where we've been wishing so +to go, though we had to wait for the moonlight, you know." + +The word made Hugh glance towards the window, for, for the first time he +began to wonder how it was his room was so bright. Yes, it was streaming +in, in a beautiful flood, and the tapestry on the walls had taken again +the lovely tints which by daylight were no longer visible. + +Hugh sprang out of bed. "Are these for me?" he said, touching the wings +which Jeanne held. + +"Certainly," she replied. "Aren't they pretty? Much nicer than your +wall-climbers, Cheri. I chose them. Turn round and let me put them on." + +She slipped them over his head--they seemed to be fastened to a band, +and in a moment they had fitted themselves perfectly into their place. +They were so light that Hugh was hardly conscious of them, and yet he +could move them about--backwards and forwards, swiftly or slowly, just +as he chose--and as easily as he could move his arms. Hugh was extremely +pleased with them, but he looked at his little night-gown with sudden +dismay. + +"You said you'd make me look pretty too, Jeanne," he observed. "I don't +care for myself--boys never care about being grandly dressed--but I +shall look rather funny beside you, shan't I?" + +"Wait a minute," said Jeanne, "you're not ready yet. I'm going to powder +you. Shut your eyes." + +He did so, and therefore could not see what Jeanne did, but he felt a +sort of soft puff fly all over him, and opening his eyes again at +Jeanne's bidding, saw, to his amazement, that he too was now dressed in +the same pretty shiny stuff as his little cousin. They looked just like +two Christmas angels on the top of a frosted Twelfth Night cake. + +"There now," said Jeanne, "aren't you pleased? You don't know how nice +you look. Now, Dudu we're quite ready. Are we to fly up to the castle?" + +Dudu nodded his wise head. Jeanne took Hugh's hand, and without Hugh's +quite knowing how it was managed, they all flew up the wall together, +and found themselves standing on the castle terrace. There was no light +streaming out from the windows this time, and the peacocks were quite +motionless at their post. + +"Are they asleep?" said Hugh. + +"Perhaps," said Dudu, speaking for the first time. "They lead a +monotonous life, you see. But there is no occasion to disturb them." + +They were standing just in front of the door, by which, the last time, +Hugh had entered the long lighted-up passage. As they stood waiting, the +door slowly opened, but to Hugh's great surprise the inside was +perfectly different. A very large white-painted hall was revealed to +them. The ceiling was arched, and looking up, it seemed so very high, +that it gave one more the feeling of being the sky than the roof of a +house. This great hall was perfectly empty, but yet it did not feel +chilly, and a faint pleasant perfume stole through it, as if not far off +sweet-scented flowers and plants were growing. + +Hugh and Jeanne stood hand-in-hand and looked around them. The door by +which they had entered had closed noiselessly, and when they turned to +see the way by which they had come in, no sign of a door was there. In +the panels of white wood which formed the walls, it was somehow +concealed. + +"How shall we ever get out again?" said Hugh. + +But Jeanne only laughed. + +"We needn't trouble about that," she said. "We got back all right the +last time. What I want to know is what are we to do next? I see no way +out of this hall, and though it's rather nice, it's not very amusing. +Dudu, I wish you would sit still--you keep giving little juggles on my +head that are very uncomfortable, and make me feel as if I had a hat on +that was always tumbling off." + +"I beg your pardon, Mademoiselle Jeanne," replied Dudu with great +dignity. "You really do say such foolish things sometimes that it is +impossible to restrain one's feelings altogether. No way out of this +hall, do you say, when it is the entrance to everywhere?" + +"But how are we to get to everywhere, or anywhere?" asked Jeanne. + +"Really!" said Dudu, as if quite out of patience. "When you are running +up and down the terrace, in your other life, you don't stand still at +one end and say, 'Dudu, how am I to get to the other?' You move your +feet, which were given you for the purpose. And in present +circumstances, instead of your feet, you naturally----" + +"Move our wings," cried Jeanne. "Oh, of course. We're to fly. But you +see, Dudu, we're accustomed to having feet, and to running and walking +with them, but having wings is something new." + +Dudu still looked rather contemptuous, and Hugh gave a little pull to +Jeanne's hand. + +"Let's set off," he said. + +"But where are we to go to?" asked Jeanne. + +Dudu gave a little croak. "Really," he said again. "What am I here for?" + +"Oh, to show us the way, of course," said Jeanne. "You're going to steer +us, I suppose, on the top of my head. Well, we're quite ready." + +Off they set. The flying this time was really quite a pleasure in +itself, and the higher up they rose the easier and swifter it seemed to +become. The hall was lighted from the roof--at least the light seemed to +come down from among the arches so high up that their form was only +vaguely seen. But whether it was daylight or what, the children did not +know, and perhaps it did not occur to them to think. They just flew +softly on, till suddenly Dudu veered to one side and stopped them in +front of a low carved door with a step before it just large enough for +them to stand on. They had not noticed this door before--the hall was so +very large and the door in comparison so small, and the step before it +had looked just like a little jutting-out ledge in the carving, till +they were close to it. + +"Don't turn round," said Dudu, "for fear it should make you giddy. Push +the door and go in at once." + +The children did so. The door yielded, and then immediately--they were +such well-behaved doors in the tapestry palace--closed behind them. And +what the children now saw was a small winding stair, the lowest steps of +which were close to their feet. + +"Here," said Dudu, "I will leave you. You can't go wrong." + +He flew down from Jeanne's head as he spoke. Jeanne gave her head a +little shake; she seemed not altogether sorry to be freed from her +head-dress, for a head-dress with _feelings_ is a somewhat uncomfortable +affair. + +"I don't mind you getting off my head, Dudu," she said. "But you might +take a turn on Cheri's for a change. I think it's rather shabby of you +to leave us already." + +Hugh looked at Jeanne in surprise. He could not understand how it was +that Jeanne ventured to speak so coolly to the raven--she who in their +daylight life was so frightened of him that she would hardly go near him +for fear he should turn her into a mouse, or in some other way bewitch +her! + +"I think it's very good-natured of Monsieur Dudu to have come with us so +far," he said. "We could never have got into the tapestry castle at all +but for him." + +"No," said Dudu, "that you certainly wouldn't." But he didn't seem +offended. "Good-bye," he said, "and if you're in any trouble remember +the former arrangement. Whistle three times." + +"Good-bye," said Hugh and Jeanne. But as they said it, their looks met +each other in astonishment--there was no Dudu there--he had already +disappeared. + +"What a queer way he has of going off all of a sudden," said Jeanne. + +"And what are we to do now?" said Hugh. + +"Go up the stairs, of course, till we find where they lead to," said +Jeanne. + +"It will be rather awkward with our wings," said Hugh. "The stair is so +very narrow and twisting." + +Jeanne made an exclamation. + +"Wings!" she said. "Why, Cheri, your wings are gone!" + +"And so are yours!" said Hugh. + +Both the children stared at each other and turned round to look at their +shoulders, as if they could hardly believe it. + +"It's too bad," said Jeanne. "It's all Dudu." + +"Never mind," said Hugh. "He wouldn't have taken them away if we had +been going to need them again; and really, Jeanne, the more I think of +it the more sure I am we could never have got up that stair with our +wings on." + +"Perhaps not," said Jeanne. "Any way _I_ couldn't have got up it with +Dudu on my head. But let's go on, Cheri. Are you frightened? I'm not a +bit." + +"I'm not, either," said Hugh. "Still, it's a very queer place. I wish +Dudu, or Houpet, or some of them, had come with us!" + +They set off on their climb up the steep spiral staircase. So narrow it +was, that going hand-in-hand was out of the question. + +"It's worse than the staircase down to the frogs' country," said Jeanne. + +Hugh looked at her triumphantly. + +"There now, Jeanne, you _do_ remember," he said. "I believe it was just +pretence your saying you thought I had dreamt it all." + +"No," said Jeanne, "it wasn't. You don't understand, Cheri. I'm +moonlight Jeanne, now--when we were having the dolls' feast I was +daylight Jeanne. And you know it's never moonlight in the day-time." + +"Well, certainly, I _don't_ understand," said Hugh. "And one thing +particularly--how is it that in the moon-time you remember about the +day-time, if in the day you forget all about the other." + +"I don't exactly forget," said Jeanne, "but it spoils things to mix them +together. And lots of things would be _quite_ spoilt if you took them +into the regular daylight. I fancy, too, one can see farther in the +moonlight--one can see more ways." + +She was standing at the foot of the stair, a step or two higher than +Hugh, and the soft light, which still, in some mysterious way, seemed to +come down from above--though, looking up the spiral stair, its top +seemed lost in gloom--fell on her pretty little face. Her hair had +fallen back over her shoulders and lay dark on her pure white shiny +dress; there was a look in her eyes which Hugh had never noticed before, +as if she could see a long way off. Hugh looked at her earnestly. + +"Jeanne," he said, "you're a perfect puzzle. I do wonder whether you're +half a fairy, or an angel, or a dream. I do hope you're not a dream when +you're in the moonlight. But, oh dear, I cannot understand." + +"Do leave off trying to understand, Cheri," said Jeanne, "and let us +amuse ourselves. I always love _you_, Cheri, whatever I am, don't I?" + +She turned towards him brightly, with such a merry smile on her face +that Hugh could not help smiling too. + +"Do let us go on quickly," she said; "I do so want to see where this +stair goes to." + +"Let me go first. I'm a boy, you know, and it's right I should go first +in case of meeting anything that might frighten you," said Hugh. + +So he stepped up in front of Jeanne, and they slowly made their way. + +It was impossible to go fast. Never was there such a twisty little +stair. Here and there, too, it got darker, so that they could only just +find their way, step by step. And it really seemed as if they had +climbed a very long way, when from above came faintly and softly the +sound of a plaintive "mew." "Mew, mew," it said again, whoever the "it" +was, and then stopped. + +The children looked at each other. + +"Cats!" they said at the same instant. + +"It's just as well," said Hugh, "that none of the animals did come with +us, as so many of them are birds." + +Another step or two and the mystery was explained. They had reached the +top of the turret stair; it led them into a little hall, all, like the +great hall below, painted white. It looked perfectly pure and clean, as +if it had only been painted the day before, and yet there was a +curiously _old_ look about it too, and a faint scent of dried rose +leaves seemed to be in the air. + +There was a door in this little hall, exactly opposite the top of the +stair, and at each side of the door was an arm-chair, also all white, +and with a white satin cushion instead of a seat. And on each of these +chairs sat a most beautiful white cat. The only colour in the hall was +the flash of their green eyes, as they turned them full on the two +children. + +Jeanne crept a little closer to Hugh. But there was no reason for fear. +The cats were most amiably disposed. + +"Mew!" said the one on the right-hand chair. + +"Mew!" said the one on the left-hand chair. + +Then they looked at each other for a moment, and at last, seeming to +have made up their minds, each held out his right paw. Something in the +way they did it reminded Hugh and Jeanne of Dudu when he stood on one +leg, and stuck out the other like a walking-stick. + +"Mew!" they said again, both together this time. And then in a clear, +though rather mewey voice, the right-hand cat spoke to the children. + +"Madame is expecting you," he said. + +The children did not know what else to say, so they said, "Thank you." + +"She has been waiting a good while," said the left-hand cat. + +"I'm very sorry to have kept her waiting," said Hugh, feeling Jeanne +nudge him. "I hope she has not been waiting very long?" + +"Oh no," said the right-hand cat, "not long; not above three hundred +years." + +Jeanne gave a start of astonishment. + +"Three hundred----" "years," she was going to say, but the left-hand cat +interrupted her. + +"You are not to be surprised," he said, very hastily, and Jeanne could +not quite make out if he was frightened or angry, or a little of both. +"You must not _think_ of being surprised. Nobody is ever surprised +here." + +"No one is ever surprised here," repeated the right-hand cat. "This is +the Castle of Whiteness, you know. You are sure you have nothing +coloured about you?" he added, anxiously. + +Instinctively both the children put their hands up to their heads. + +"Only our hair," they said. + +"Mine's light-brown, you see," said Hugh. + +"And mine's bl----" Jeanne was saying, but the cats, both speaking +together this time, stopped her with a squeal of horror. + +"Oh, oh, oh!" they said. "Where are your manners? You must never mention +such a word. Your hair, Mademoiselle, is _shadowy_. That is the proper +expression." + +Jeanne was annoyed, and did not speak. Hugh felt himself bound to defend +her from the charge of bad manners. + +"You needn't be so sharp," he said to the cats; "your eyes are as green +as they can be." + +"Green doesn't count," said the right-hand cat, coolly. + +"And how were we to know that?" said Hugh. + +"I don't know," said the left-hand cat. + +"Well, but can't you be sensible?" said Hugh, who didn't feel inclined +to give in to two cats. + +"Perhaps we might be if we tried," said the right-hand cat. "But----" + +A sudden sound interrupted him. It was as if some one had moved a piece +of furniture with squeaking castors. + +"Madame's turning her wheel," said the left-hand cat. "Now's the time." + +Both cats got down from their chairs, and each, standing on their hind +legs, proceeded to open his side of the door between the chairs--or +"doors" I should almost say, for it was a double-hinged one, opening in +the middle, and the funny thing about it was that one side opened +outwards, and the other inwards, so that at first, unless you were +standing just exactly in the middle, you did not see very clearly into +the inside. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +"THE BROWN BULL OF NORROWA." + + "Delicate, strong, and white, + Hurrah for the magic thread! + The warp and the woof come right." + CHILD WORLD. + + +They were not to be surprised! Both the children remembered that, and +yet it was a little difficult to avoid being so. + +At first all they saw was just another white room, a small one, and with +a curious pointed window in one corner. But when the doors were fully +opened there was more to be seen. In the first place, at the opposite +corner, was a second window exactly like the other, and in front of this +window a spinning-wheel was placed, and before this spinning-wheel sat, +on a white chair, a white-haired lady. + +She was spinning busily. She did not look up as the children came in. +She seemed quite absorbed in her work. So the children stood and gazed +at her, and the cats stood quietly in front, the right-hand one before +Hugh, the left-hand one before Jeanne, not seeming, of course, the least +surprised. Whether I should call the white-haired lady an "old" lady or +not, I really do not know. No doubt she was old, as we count old, but +yet, except for her hair, she did not look so. She was very small, and +she was dressed entirely in white, and her hands were the prettiest +little things you ever saw. But as she did not look up, Hugh and Jeanne +could not at first judge of her face. They stood staring at her for some +minutes without speaking. At last, as they were not allowed to be +surprised, and indeed felt afraid of being reproached with bad manners +by the cats if they made any remarks at all, it began, especially for +Jeanne, to grow rather stupid. + +She gave Hugh a little tug. + +"Won't you speak to her?" she whispered, very, _very_ softly. + +Instantly both cats lifted their right paws. + +"You see," replied Hugh, looking at Jeanne reproachfully, "they're +getting angry." + +On this the cats wheeled right round and looked at the children. + +"I don't care," said Jeanne, working herself up. "I don't care. It's +not our fault. They said she was waiting for us, and they made us come +in." + +"'_She_ is the cat,' so I've been told," said a soft voice suddenly. +"And 'don't care;' something was once spun about 'don't care,' I think." + +Immediately the two cats threw themselves on the ground, apparently in +an agony of grief. + +"_She_ the cat," they cried. "Oh, what presumption! And who said 'don't +care'? Oh dear! oh dear! who would have thought of such a thing?" + +The lady lifted her head, and looked at the cats and the children. There +was a curious expression on her face, as if she had just awakened. Her +eyes were very soft blue, softer and dreamier than Hugh's, and her +mouth, even while it smiled, had a rather sad look. But the look of her +whole face was very--I can't find a very good word for it. It seemed to +ask you questions, and yet to know more about you than you did yourself. +It was impossible not to keep looking at her once you had begun. + +"Hush, cats," were the next words she said. "Don't be silly; it's nearly +as bad as being surprised." + +Immediately the cats sat up in their places again, as quiet and +dignified as if they had not been at all put about, and Jeanne glanced +at Hugh as much as to say, "Aren't you glad she has put them down a +little?" + +Then the lady looked over the cats to the children. + +"It is quite ready," she said; "the threads are all straight." + +What could they say? They had not the least idea what she meant, and +they were afraid of asking. Evidently the white lady was of the same +opinion as the cats as to the rudeness of being surprised; very probably +asking questions would be considered still ruder. + +Jeanne was the first to pick up courage. + +"Madame," she said, "I don't mean to be rude, but I _am_ so thirsty. +It's with flying, I think, for we're not accustomed to it." + +"Why did you not say so before?" said the lady. "I can give you anything +you want. It has all been ready a long time. Will you have snow water or +milk?" + +"Milk, please," said Jeanne. + +The lady looked at the cats. + +"Fetch it," she said quietly. The cats trotted off, they opened the door +as before, but left it open this time, and in another moment they +returned, carrying between them a white china tray, on which were two +cups of beautiful rich-looking milk. They handed them to the children, +who each took one and drank it with great satisfaction. Then the cats +took away the cups and tray, and returned and sat down as before. + +The lady smiled at the children. + +"Now," she said, "are you ready?" + +She had been so kind about the milk that Hugh this time took courage. + +"We are _very_ sorry," he said, "but we really don't understand what it +is you would like us to do." + +"Do?" said the lady. "Why, you have nothing to do but to listen. Isn't +that what you came for? To hear some of the stories I spin?" + +The children opened their eyes--with pleasure it is to be supposed +rather than surprise--for the white lady did not seem at all annoyed. + +"Oh!" said they, both at once. "Is _that_ what you're spinning? +Stories!" + +"Of course," said the lady. "Where did you think they all come +from?--all the stories down there?" She pointed downwards in the +direction of the stair and the great hall. "Why, here I have been +for--no, it would frighten you to tell you how long, by your counting, I +have been up here at my spinning. I spin the round of the clock at this +window, then I turn my wheel--to get the light, you see--and spin the +round again at the other. If you saw the tangle it comes to me in! And +the threads I send down! It is not _often_ such little people as you +come up here themselves, but it does happen sometimes. And there is +plenty ready for you--all ready for the wheel." + +"How wonderful!" said Hugh. "And oh!" he exclaimed, "I suppose sometimes +the threads get twisted again when you have to send them down such a +long way, and that's how stories get muddled sometimes." + +"Just so," said the white lady. "My story threads need gentle handling, +and sometimes people seize them roughly and tear and soil them, and then +of course they are no longer pretty. But listen now. What will you have? +The first in the wheel is a very, very old fairy story. I span it for +your great-great-grandmothers; shall I spin it again for you?" + +"Oh, please," said both children at once. + +"Then sit down on the floor and lean your heads against my knees," said +the lady. "Shut your eyes and listen. That is all you have to do. Never +mind the cats, they will be quite quiet." + +[Illustration: STORY SPINNING.--p. 141.] + +Hugh and Jeanne did as she told them. They leaned their heads, the +smooth black one of the little girl, the fair-haired curly one of the +boy, on the lady's white robe. You can hardly imagine how soft and +pleasant it was to the touch. A half-sleepy feeling came over them; they +shut their eyes and did not feel inclined to open them again. But they +did not really go to sleep; the fairy lady began to work the wheel, and +through the soft whirr came the sound of a voice--whether it was the +voice of the lady or of the wheel they could not tell. And this was the +old, old story the wheel spun for them. + +"Listen, children," it began. + +"We are listening," said Jeanne, rather testily. "You needn't say that +again." + +"Hush, Jeanne," said Hugh; "you'll stop the story if you're not quiet." + +"Listen, children," said the voice again. And Jeanne was quite quiet. + +"Once on a time--a very long time ago--in a beautiful castle there lived +a beautiful Princess. She was young and sweet and very fair to see. And +she was the only child of her parents, who thought nothing too rare or +too good for her. At her birth all the fairies had given her valuable +gifts--no evil wishes had been breathed over her cradle. Only the fairy +who had endowed her with good sense and ready wit had dropped certain +words, which had left some anxiety in the minds of her parents. + +"'She will need my gifts,' the fairy had said. 'If she uses them well, +they and these golden balls will stand her in good need. + +"And as she kissed the baby she left by her pillow three lovely golden +balls, at which, as soon as the little creature saw them, she smiled +with pleasure, and held out her tiny hands to catch them. + +"They were of course balls of fairy make--they were small enough for the +little Princess at first to hold in her baby hands, but as she grew they +grew, till, when she had reached her sixteenth year, they were the size +of an orange. They were golden, but yet neither hard nor heavy, and +nothing had power to dint or stain them. And all through her babyhood +and childhood, and on into her girlhood, they were the Princess's +favourite toy. They were never away from her, and by the time she had +grown to be a tall and beautiful girl, with constant practice she had +learnt to catch them as cleverly as an Indian juggler. She could whiz +them all three in the air at a time, and never let one drop to the +ground. And all the people about grew used to seeing their pretty +Princess, as she wandered through the gardens and woods near the castle, +throwing her balls in the air as she walked, and catching them again +without the slightest effort. + +"And remembering the words of the fairy who had given them, naturally +her father and mother were pleased to see her love for the magic gift, +and every one about the palace was forbidden to laugh at her, or to say +that it was babyish for a tall Princess to play so much with a toy that +had amused her as an infant. + +"She was not a silly Princess at all. She was clever at learning, and +liked it, and she was sensible and quick-witted and very brave. So no +one was inclined to laugh at her pretty play, even if they had not been +forbidden to do so. And she was so kind-hearted and merry, that if ever +in her rambles she met any little children who stared at her balls with +wondering eyes, she would make her ladies stop, while she threw the +balls up in the air, higher and yet higher, ever catching them again as +they flew back, and laughed with pleasure to see the little creatures' +delight in her skill. + +"She was such a happy Princess that the bright balls seemed like +herself--ready to catch every ray of sunshine and make it prisoner. And +till she had reached her sixteenth year no cloud had come over her +brightness. About this time she noticed that the king, her father, began +to look anxious and grave, and messengers often came in haste to see him +from far-off parts of his kingdom. And once or twice she overheard words +dropped which she could not understand, except that it was evident some +misfortune was at hand. But in their desire to save their daughter all +sorrow, the king and queen had given orders that the trouble which had +come to the country was not to be told her; so the Princess could find +out nothing even by questioning her ladies or her old nurse, who +hitherto had never refused to tell her anything she wanted to know. + +"One day when she was walking about the gardens, playing as usual with +her golden balls, she came upon a young girl half hidden among the +shrubs, crying bitterly. The Princess stopped at once to ask her what +was the matter, but the girl only shook her head and went on weeping, +refusing to answer. + +"'I dare not tell you, Princess,' she said. 'I dare not. You are good +and kind, and I do not blame you for my misfortunes. If you knew all, +you would pity me.' + +"And that was all she would say. + +"She was a pretty girl, about the same age and height as the Princess, +and the Princess, after speaking to her, remembered that she had +sometimes seen her before. + +"'You are the daughter of the gardener, are you not?' she inquired. + +"'Yes,' said the girl. 'My father is the king's gardener. But I have +been away with my grandmother. They only sent for me yesterday to come +home--and--and--oh, I was to have been married next week to a young +shepherd, who has loved me since my childhood!' + +"And with this the girl burst into fresh weeping, but not another word +would she say. + +"Just then the Princess's governess, who had been a little behind--for +sometimes in playing with her balls the Princess ran on faster--came up +to where the two young girls were talking together. When the governess +saw who the Princess's companion was she seemed uneasy. + +"'What has she been saying to you, Princess?' she asked eagerly. 'It is +the gardener's daughter, I see.' + +"'Yes,' said the Princess. 'She is the gardener's daughter, and she is +in some great trouble. That is all I know, for she will tell me nothing +but that she was to have been married next week, and then she weeps. I +wish I knew what her sorrow is, for, perhaps, I could be of use to her. +I would give her all my money if it would do her any good,' and the +Princess looked ready to cry herself. But the girl only shook her head. +'No Princess,' she said; 'it would do me no good. It is not your fault; +but oh, it is very hard on me!' + +"The governess seemed very frightened and spoke sharply to the girl, +reproving her for annoying the Princess with her distress. The Princess +was surprised, for all her ladies hitherto had, by the king and queen's +desire, encouraged her to be kind and sympathising to those in trouble, +and to do all she could to console them. But as she had also been taught +to be very obedient, she made no remonstrance when her governess desired +her to leave the girl and return to the castle. But all that day the +Princess remained silent and depressed. It was the first time a shadow +had come near her happiness. + +"The next morning when she awoke the sun was shining brilliantly. It was +a most lovely spring day. The Princess's happy spirits seemed all to +have returned. She said to herself that she would confide to the queen +her mother her concern about the poor girl that she had seen, and no +doubt the queen would devise some way of helping her. And the thought +made her feel so light-hearted that she told her attendants to fetch her +a beautiful white dress trimmed with silver, which had been made for her +but the day before. To her surprise the maidens looked at each other in +confusion. At last one replied that the queen had not been pleased with +the dress and had sent it away, but that a still more beautiful one +trimmed with gold should be ready by that evening. The Princess was +perplexed; she was not so silly as to care about the dress, but it +seemed to her very strange that her mother should not admire what she +had thought so lovely a robe. But still more surprised was she at a +message which was brought to her, as soon as she was dressed, from the +king and queen, desiring her to remain in her own rooms the whole of +that day without going out, for a reason that should afterwards be +explained to her. She made no objection, as she was submissive and +obedient to her parents' wishes, but she found it strange and sad to +spend that beautiful spring day shut up in her rooms, more especially as +in her favourite boudoir, a turret chamber which overlooked the castle +courtyard, she found the curtains drawn closely, as if it were night, +and was told by her governess that this too was by the king's orders; +the Princess was requested not to look out of the windows. She grew at +this a little impatient. + +"'I am willing to obey my parents,' she said, 'but I would fain they +trusted me, for I am no longer a child. Some misfortune is threatening +us, I feel, and it is concealed from me, as if I could be happy or at +rest if sorrow is hanging over my dear parents or the nation.' + +"But no explanation was given to her, and all that day she sat in her +darkened chamber playing sadly with her golden balls and thinking deeply +to herself about the mystery. And towards the middle of the day sounds +of excitement reached her from the courtyard beneath. There seemed a +running to and fro, a noise of horses and of heavy feet, and now and +then faint sounds of weeping. + +"'Goes the king a hunting to-day?' she asked her ladies. 'And whose +weeping is it I hear?' + +"But the ladies only shook their heads without speaking. + +"By the evening all seemed quiet. The Princess was desired to join her +parents as usual, and the white and golden robe was brought to her to +wear. She put it on with pleasure, and said to herself there could after +all be no terrible misfortune at hand, for if so there would not be the +signs of rejoicing she observed as she passed through the palace. And +never had her parents been more tender and loving. They seemed to look +at her as if never before they had known how they treasured her, and the +Princess was so touched by these proofs of their affection that she +could not make up her mind to trouble them by asking questions which +they might not wish to answer. + +"The next day everything went on as usual in the palace, and it seemed +to the Princess that there was a general feeling as if some great danger +was safely passed. But this happiness did not last long; about three +days later, again a messenger, dusty and wearied with riding fast and +hard, made his appearance at the castle; and faces grew gloomy, and the +king and queen were evidently overwhelmed with grief. Yet nothing was +told to the Princess. + +"She wandered out about the gardens and castle grounds, playing as usual +with her balls, but wondering sadly what meant this mysterious trouble. +And as she was passing the poultry-yard, she heard a sound which seemed +to suit her thoughts--some one was crying sadly. The Princess turned to +see who it was. This time too it was a young girl about her own age, a +girl whom she knew very well by sight, for she was the daughter of the +queen's henwife, and the Princess had often seen her driving the flocks +of turkeys or geese to their fields, or feeding the pretty cocks and +hens which the queen took great pride in. + +"'What is the matter, Bruna?' said the Princess, leaning over the gate. +'Have the rats eaten any of the little chickens, or has your mother been +scolding you for breaking some eggs?' + +"'Neither, Princess,' said the girl among her sobs. 'The chickens are +never eaten, and my mother seldom scolds me. My trouble is far worse +than that, but I dare not tell it to you--to you of all people in the +world.' + +"And the Princess's governess, who just then came up, looked again very +frightened and uneasy. + +"'Princess, Princess,' she said, 'what a habit you are getting of +talking to all these foolish girls. Come back to the palace at once with +me.' + +"'I have often talked to Bruna before,' said the Princess gently, 'and +I never was blamed for doing so. She is a pretty girl, and I have known +her all my life. Some one said she was betrothed to one of my father's +huntsmen, and I would like to ask if it is true. Perhaps they are too +poor to marry, and it may be for that she is weeping.' + +"Bruna heard what the Princess said, and wept still more violently. 'Ah, +yes, it is true!' she said, 'but never, never shall I now be married to +him.' + +"But the Princess's governess would not let her wait to ask more. She +hurried her back to the castle, and the Princess--more sure than ever +that some mysterious trouble was in question--could get no explanation. + +"She did not see the king and queen that night, and the next morning a +strange thing happened--her white and golden robe was missing. And all +that her attendants could tell her was that it had been taken away by +the queen's orders. + +"'Then,' said the Princess, 'there is some sad trouble afloat which is +hidden from me.' + +"And when she went to her turret room, and found, as before, that the +windows were all closed, so that she could not see out, she sat down and +cried with distress and anxiety. + +"And, again, about mid-day, the same confused noises were to be heard. A +sound of horses and people moving about in the courtyard, a tramping of +heavy feet, and through all a faint and smothered weeping. The Princess +could bear her anxiety no longer. She drew back the curtains, and +unfastened the shutters, and leaned out. From her window she could +clearly see the courtyard. It was, as she suspected, filled with people; +rows of soldiers on horse-back lined the sides, and in front, on the +steps, the king and queen were standing looking at a strange object. It +was an enormous bull: never had the Princess seen such a bull. He was +dark brown in colour, and pawed the ground in front of him impatiently, +and on his back was seated a young girl whom the Princess gazed at with +astonishment. She really thought for a moment it was herself, and that +she was dreaming! For the girl was dressed in the Princess's own white +and golden robe, and her face could not be seen, for it was covered with +a thick veil, and numbers of women and servants standing about were +weeping bitterly. And so, evidently, was the girl herself. Then the +great bull gave another impatient toss, the girl seized his horns to +keep herself from falling, and off he set, with a terrible rush: and a +great shout, half of fear, half of rejoicing, as seeing him go, rose +from the people about. + +"Just at this moment the Princess heard some one approaching her room. +She hastily drew the curtains, and sat down playing with her balls, as +if she had seen nothing. + +"She said not a word to any one, but she had her own thoughts, and that +evening she was sent for to her father and mother, who, as usual, +received her with caresses and every sign of the tenderest affection. +And several days passed quietly, but still the Princess had her own +thoughts. + +"And one evening when she was sitting with her mother, suddenly the king +entered the room in the greatest trouble, and not seeing the Princess, +for it was dusk, he exclaimed, + +"'It has failed again. The monster is not to be deceived. He vows he +will not cease his ravages till he gets the real Princess, our beloved +daughter. He has appeared again, and is more infuriated than ever, +tearing up trees by the roots, destroying the people's houses, tramping +over their fields, and half killing all the country with terror. What is +to be done? The people say they can endure it no longer. The girl Bruna +was found bruised and bleeding by the wayside a long way from this, and +she gives the same account as the gardener's daughter of the monster's +rage at finding he had been deceived.' + +"The queen had tried to prevent the king's relating all this, but he was +too excited to notice her hints, and, indeed, after the first few words, +the Princess had heard enough. She started from her seat and came +forward. And when he saw her, the king threw up his hands in despair. +But the Princess said quietly, 'Father, you must tell me the whole.' + +"So they had to tell her the whole. For many weeks past the terrible +monster she had seen in the courtyard had been filling the country with +fear. He had suddenly appeared at a distant part of the kingdom--having +come, it was said, from a country over the sea named 'Norrowa'--and had +laid it waste, for though he did not actually kill or devour, he tore +down trees, trampled crops, and terrified every one that came in his +way, as the king had said. And when begged to have mercy and to return +to his own country, he roared out with a voice between the voice of a +man and the bellow of a bull, that he would leave them in peace once the +king gave him his daughter in marriage. + +"Messenger after messenger had been sent to the palace to entreat for +assistance. Soldiers in numbers had been despatched to seize the monster +and imprison him. But it was no use--he was not to be caught. Nothing +would content him but the promise of the Princess; and as it was of +course plain that he was not a common bull, but a creature endowed with +magical power, the country-people's fear of him was unbounded. They +threatened to rise in revolution unless some means were found of ridding +them of their terrible visitor. Then the king called together the wisest +of his counsellors, and finding force of no avail, they determined to +try cunning. The giving the Princess was not to be thought of, but a +pretty girl about her age and size--the gardener's daughter, the same +whom the Princess had found weeping over her fate--was chosen, dressed +in one of her royal mistress's beautiful robes, and a message sent to +the bull that his request was to be granted. He came. All round, the +castle was protected by soldiers, though they well knew their power +against him was nothing. The king and queen, feigning to weep over the +loss of their daughter, themselves presented to him the false Princess. + +"She was mounted on his back, and off he rushed with her--up hill, down +dale, by rocky ground and smooth, across rivers and through forests he +rushed, said the girl, faster and faster, till at last, as evening fell, +he came to a stand and spoke to her for the first time. + +"'What time of day must it be by this, king's daughter?' he said. + +"The girl considered for a moment. Then, forgetting her pretended +position, she replied thoughtlessly, + +"'It must be getting late. About the time that my father gathers the +flowers to adorn the king's and queen's supper table.' + +"'Throw thee once, throw thee twice, throw thee _thrice_,' roared the +bull, each time shaking the girl roughly, and the last time flinging her +off his back. 'Shame on thee, gardener's daughter, and thou wouldst call +thyself a true Princess.' + +"And with that he left her bruised and frightened out of her wits on the +ground, and rushed off by himself whither she knew not. And it was not +till two days later that the unfortunate gardener's daughter found her +way home, glad enough, one may be sure, to be again there in safety. + +"In the meantime the ravages and terrors caused by the terrible bull had +begun again, and, as before, messengers came incessantly to the king +entreating him to find some means of protecting his unfortunate +subjects. And the king and queen were half beside themselves with +anxiety. Only one thing they were determined on--nothing must be told to +the Princess. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE BROWN BULL--(_Continued_). + + "And she + Told them an old-world history." + MATTHEW ARNOLD. + + +"'She is so courageous,' said the queen, 'there is no knowing what she +might not do.' + +"'She is so kind-hearted,' said the king; 'she might imagine it her duty +to sacrifice herself to our people.' + +"And the poor king and queen wept copiously at the mere thought, and all +the ladies and attendants of the Princess were ordered on no account to +let a breath of the terrible story be heard by her. Yet, after all, it +so happened that her suspicions were aroused afresh by the sight this +time of the weeping Bruna. For nothing else could be suggested than +again to try to deceive the monster; and Bruna, a still prettier girl +than the gardener's daughter, was this time chosen to represent the +Princess. But all happened as before. The brown bull rushed off with +his prize, the whole day the unfortunate Bruna was shaken on his back, +and again, as night began to fall, he stopped at the same spot. + +"'What time must it be by this, king's daughter?' he asked. + +"Foolish Bruna, thankful to have a moment's rest, answered hastily, + +"'O brown bull, it must be getting late, and I am sorely tired. It must +be about the time that my mother takes all the eggs that have been laid +in the day to the king's kitchen.' + +"'Throw thee once, throw thee twice, throw thee _thrice_,' roared the +bull, each time shaking the henwife's daughter roughly, at the end +flinging her to the ground. 'Shame on thee, thou henwife's daughter, to +call thyself a true Princess.' + +"And with that off he rushed, furious, and from that day the ravages and +the terrors began again, and Bruna found her way home, bruised and +weeping, to tell her story. + +"This was the tale now related to the Princess, and as she listened a +strange look of determination and courage came over her face. + +"'There is but one thing to be done,' she said. 'It is childish to +attempt to deceive a creature who is evidently not what he seems. Let me +go myself, my parents. Trust me to do my best. And, at worst, if I +perish, it will be in a good cause. Better it should be so than that our +people should be driven from their homes, the whole country devastated, +and all its happiness destroyed.' + +"The king and queen had no answer to give but their tears. But the +Princess remained firm, and they found themselves obliged to do as she +directed. A messenger was sent to the monster to inform him, for the +third time, that his terms were to be agreed to, and the rest of the day +was spent in the palace in weeping and lamentation. + +"Only, strange to say, the Princess shed no tears. She seemed as +cheerful as usual; she played with her golden balls, and endeavoured to +comfort her sorrowful parents, and was so brave and hopeful that in +spite of themselves the poor king and queen could not help feeling a +little comforted. + +"'It is a good sign that she has never left off playing with her balls,' +they said to each other. 'Who knows but what the fairy's prediction may +be true, and that in some way the balls may be the means of saving +her?' + +"'They and my wits,' said the Princess, laughing, for she had often been +told of the fairy's saying. + +"And the king and queen and all the ladies and gentlemen of the court +looked at her in astonishment, admiring her courage, but marvelling at +her having the spirit to laugh at such a moment. + +"The next morning, at the usual time, the terrible visitor made his +appearance. He came slowly up to the castle courtyard and stood at the +great entrance, tossing his enormous head with impatience. But he was +not kept waiting long; the doors were flung open, and at the top of the +flight of steps leading down from them appeared the young Princess, pale +but resolute, her fair hair floating over her shoulders, her golden +balls flashing as she slowly walked down the steps, tossing them as she +went. And, unlike the false princesses, she was dressed entirely in +black, without a single jewel or ornament of any kind--nothing but her +balls, and her hair caught the sunlight as she passed. There were no +soldiers this time, no crowd of weeping friends; the grief of the king +and queen was now too real to be shown, and the Princess had asked that +there should be no one to see her go. + +"The brown bull stood still as a lamb for her to mount, and then at a +gentle pace he set off. The Princess had no need to catch hold of his +horns to keep herself from falling, his step was so even. And all along +as she rode she threw her balls up softly in the air, catching them as +they fell. But the brown bull spoke not a word. + +"On and on they went; the sun rose high in the heavens and poured down +on the girl's uncovered head the full heat of his rays. But just as she +began to feel it painfully, they entered a forest, where the green shade +of the summer trees made a pleasant shelter. And when they came out from +the forest again on the other side the sun was declining; before long he +had sunk below the horizon, evening was at hand. And as before, the +brown bull stopped. + +"'King's daughter,' he said, in a voice so gentle, though deep, that the +Princess started with surprise, 'what hour must it be by this? Tell me, +king's daughter, I pray.' + +"'Brown bull,' replied the Princess, without a moment's hesitation, for +those who have nothing to conceal are fearless and ready; 'brown bull, +it is getting late. By now must the king and queen, my father and +mother, be sitting down to their solitary supper and thinking of me, for +at this hour I was used to hasten to them, throwing my pretty balls +as I went.' + +[Illustration: THE BROWN BULL OF NORROWA.--p. 162.] + +"'I thank thee, thou true Princess,' said the bull in the same tone, and +he hastened on. + +"And ere long the night fell, and the poor Princess was so tired and +sleepy, that without knowing it her pretty head drooped lower and lower, +and at last she lay fast asleep on the bull's broad back, her fair head +resting between his horns. + +"She slept so soundly that she did not notice when he stopped, only she +had a strange dream. Some one lifted her gently and laid her on a couch, +it seemed to her, and a kind voice whispered in her ear, 'Good-night, my +fair Princess.' + +"But it must have been a dream, she said to herself. How could a bull +have arms to lift her, or how could a rough, ferocious creature like him +be so gentle and kind? It must have been a dream, for when she awoke she +saw the great monster standing beside her on his four legs as usual; yet +it was strange, for she found herself lying on a delicious mossy couch, +and the softest and driest moss had been gathered together for a pillow, +and beside her a cup of fresh milk and a cake of oaten bread were lying +for her breakfast. How had all this been done for her? she asked +herself, as she ate with a very good appetite, for she had had no food +since the morning before. She began to think the bull not so bad after +all, and to wonder if it was to Fairyland he was going to take her. And +as she thought this to herself she threw her balls, which were lying +beside her, up into the air, and the morning sun caught their sparkle +and seemed to send it dancing back again on to her bright fair hair. And +a sudden fancy seized her. + +"'Catch,' she said to the bull, throwing a ball at him as she spoke. He +tossed his head, and to her surprise the ball was caught on one of his +horns. + +"'Catch,' she said again, and he had caught the second. + +"'Catch,' a third time. The great creature caught it in his mouth like a +dog, and brought it gently to the Princess and laid it at her feet. She +took it and half timidly stroked his head; and no one who had seen the +soft pathetic look which crept into his large round eyes would have +believed in his being the cruel monster he had been described. He did +not speak, he seemed without the power to do so now, but by signs he +made the Princess understand it was time to continue their journey, and +she mounted his back as before. + +"All that day the bull travelled on, but the Princess was now getting +accustomed to her strange steed, and felt less tired and frightened. And +when the sun grew hot the bull was sure to find a sheltered path, where +the trees shaded her from the glare, and when the road was rough he went +the more slowly, that she should not be shaken. + +"Late in the evening the Princess heard a far-off rushing sound, that as +they went seemed to grow louder and louder. + +"'What is that, brown bull?' she asked, feeling somehow a little +frightened. + +"The brown bull raised his head and looked round him. Yes, the sun had +sunk, he might speak. And in the same deep voice he answered, + +"'The sea, king's daughter, the sea that is to bear you and me to my +country of Norrowa.' + +"'And how shall we cross it, brown bull?' she said. + +"'Have no fear,' he replied. 'Lay down your head and shut your eyes, and +no harm will come near you.' + +"The Princess did as he bade her. She heard the roar of the waves come +nearer and nearer, a cold wind blew over her face, and she felt at last +that her huge steed had plunged into the water, for it splashed on to +her hand, which was hanging downwards, and then she heard him, with a +gasp and a snort, strike out boldly. The Princess drew herself up on the +bull's back as closely as she could; she had no wish to get wet. But she +was not frightened. She grew accustomed to the motion of her great +steed's swimming, and as she kept her eyes fast shut she did not see how +near she was to the water, and felt as if in a peaceful dream. And after +a while the feeling became reality, for she fell fast asleep and dreamt +she was in her little turret chamber, listening to the wind softly +blowing through the casement. + +"When she awoke she was alone. She was lying on a couch, but this time +not of moss, but of the richest and softest silk. She rubbed her eyes +and looked about her. Was she in her father's castle? Had her youth and +her courage softened the monster's heart, and made him carry her back +again to her happy home? For a moment she thought it must be so; but no, +when she looked again, none of the rooms in her old home were so +beautiful as this one where she found herself. Not even her mother's +great saloon, which she had always thought so magnificent, was to be +compared with it. It was not very large, but it was more like Fairyland +than anything she had ever dreamt of. The loveliest flowers were +trained against the walls, here and there fountains of delicately +scented waters refreshed the air, the floor was covered with carpets of +the richest hues and the softest texture. There were birds singing among +the flowers, gold and silver fish sporting in the marble basins--it was +a perfect fairy's bower. The Princess sat up and looked about her. There +was no one to be seen, not a sound but the dropping of the fountains and +the soft chatter of the birds. The Princess admired it all exceedingly, +but she was very hungry, and as her long sleep had completely refreshed +her, she felt no longer inclined to lie still. So she crossed the room +to where a curtain was hanging, which she thought perhaps concealed a +door. She drew aside the curtain, the door behind was already open; she +found herself in a second room, almost as beautiful as the first, and +lighted in the same way with coloured lamps hanging from the roof. And +to her great delight, before her was a table already laid for supper +with every kind of delicious fruit and bread, and cakes, and everything +that a young Princess could desire. She was so hungry that she at once +sat down to the table, and then she perceived to her surprise that it +was laid for two! + +"'Can the bull be coming to sup with me?' she said to herself, half +laughing at the idea. And she added aloud, 'Come if you like, Mr. Bull; +I find your house very pretty, and I thank you for your hospitality.' + +"And as she said the words, a voice which somehow seemed familiar to +her, replied, + +"'I thank you, gracious Princess, for your permission. Without it I +could not have entered your presence as I do now,' and looking up, she +saw, coming in by another door that she had not noticed, a most +unexpected visitor. + +"It was not the bull, it was a young Prince such as our pretty Princess, +who was not without her daydreams, like other young girls, had sometimes +pictured to herself as coming on a splendid horse, with his followers +around him in gallant attire, to ask her of her parents. He was well +made and manly, with a bright and pleasant expression, and dressed, of +course, to perfection. The Princess glanced at her plain black robe in +vexation, and her fair face flushed. + +"'I knew not,' she began. 'I thought I should see no one but the brown +bull.' + +"The Prince laughed merrily. He was in good spirits naturally, as any +one would be who, after being forced for ten years to wear a frightful +and hideous disguise, and to behave like a rough and surly bull, +instead of like a well-born gentleman, should suddenly find himself in +his own pleasant person again. + +"'I _was_ the bull,' he said, 'but you, Princess, have transformed me. +How can I ever show you my gratitude?' + +"'You owe me none,' said the Princess gently. 'What I did was to save my +parents and their people. If it has served you in good stead, that for +me is reward enough. But,' she added, 'I wish I had brought some of my +pretty dresses with me. It must look so rude to you to have this ugly +black one.' + +"The Prince begged her not to trouble herself about such a trifle--to +him she was beautiful as the day in whatever attire she happened to be. +And then they ate their supper with a good appetite, though it seemed +strange to the Princess to be quite without attendants, sitting alone at +table with a young man whom she had never seen before. + +"And after supper a new idea struck her. + +"'Catch,' she said, drawing the first ball out of the little pocket in +the front of her dress, where she always carried her balls, and flinging +it across the table to the Prince with her usual skill, not breaking a +glass or bending a leaf of the flowers with which the dishes were +adorned. + +"In an instant the Prince had caught it, and as she sent off the second, +crying again 'Catch,' he returned her the first, leaving his hand free +for the third. + +"'Yes,' said the Princess, after continuing this game for a little +while. 'Yes, I see that you are a true Prince,' for strange to say, he +was as skilful at her game as she was herself. + +"And they played with her balls for a long time throwing them higher and +higher without ever missing, and laughing with pleasure, like two merry +children. + +"Then suddenly the Prince started from his seat, and his face grew sad +and grave. + +"'I must go,' he said; 'my hour of liberty is over.' + +"'Go?' said the Princess in surprise and distress, for she had found the +Prince a very pleasant companion. 'You must go? and leave me alone +here?' + +"She looked as if she were going to cry, and the Prince looked as if he +were going to cry too. + +"'Alas, Princess!' he said, 'in my joy for the moment, I had almost +forgotten my sad fate;' and then he went on to explain to her that for +many years past he had been under a fairy spell, the work of an evil +fairy who had vowed to revenge herself on his parents for some fancied +insult to her. He had been forced to take the form of a bull and to +spread terror wherever he went; and the power of this spell was to +continue till he should meet with a beautiful Princess who of her own +free will would return with him to his country and treat him with +friendliness, both of which conditions had been now fulfilled. + +"'Then all is right!' exclaimed the Princess joyfully. 'Why should you +look so sad?' + +"'Alas! no,' repeated the Prince, 'the spell is but partly broken. I +have only power to regain my natural form for three hours every evening +after sunset. And for three years more must it be so. Then, if your +goodness continues so long, all will indeed be right. But during that +time it will be necessary for you to live alone, except for the three +hours I can pass with you, in this enchanted palace of mine. No harm +will befall you, all your wants will be supplied by invisible hands; but +for a young and beautiful Princess like you, it will be a sad trial, and +one that I feel I have no right to ask your consent to.' + +"'And can nothing be done?' said the Princess, 'nothing to shorten your +endurance of the spell?' + +"'Nothing,' said the Prince, sadly. 'Any effort to do so would only +cause fearful troubles. I drop my hated skin at sunset, but three hours +later I must resume it.' + +"He glanced towards the corner of the room where, though the Princess +had not before observed it, the brown bull's skin lay in a heap. + +"'Hateful thing!' said the Princess, clenching her pretty hands, 'I +would like to burn it.' + +"The Prince grew pale with fright. 'Hush! Princess,' he said. 'Never +breathe such words. Any rash act would have the most fearful +consequences.' + +"'What?' said the Princess, curiously. + +"The Prince came nearer her and said in a low voice, 'For _me_ they +would be such. In such a case I might too probably never see you more.' + +"The Princess blushed. Considering that he had spent ten years as a +bull, it seemed to her that the Prince's manners were really not to be +found fault with, and she promised him that she would consider the +matter over, and by the next evening tell him her decision. + +"She felt rather inclined to cry when she found herself again quite +alone in the great strange palace, for she was only sixteen, even though +so brave and cheerful. But still she had nothing whatever to complain +of. Not a wish was formed in her heart but it was at once fulfilled, for +this power was still the Prince's. She found, in what was evidently +intended for her dressing-room, everything a young Princess could +possibly desire in the shape of dresses, each more lovely than the +others; shoes of silk or satin, exquisitely embroidered to suit her +various costumes; laces and shawls, ribbons and feathers, and jewels of +every conceivable kind in far greater abundance than so sensible a young +lady found at all necessary. But believing all these pretty things to be +provided to please her by the Prince's desire, she endeavoured to amuse +herself with them, and found it rather interesting for the first time in +her life to have to choose for herself. Her breakfasts and dinners, and +everything conceivable in the shape of delicate and delicious food, +appeared whenever she wished for anything of the kind; invisible hands +opened the windows and shut the doors, lighted the lamps when the +evening closed in, arranged her long fair hair more skilfully than any +mortal maid, and brushed it softly when at night she wished to have it +unfastened. Books in every language to interest her, for the Princess +had been well taught, appeared on the tables, also materials for +painting and for embroidery, in which she was very clever. Altogether it +was impossible to complain, and the next day passed pleasantly enough, +though it must be confessed the young Princess often found herself +counting the hours till it should be that of sunset. + +"Punctual to the moment the Prince made his appearance, but to his +guest's distress he seemed careworn and anxious. + +"'Has some new misfortune threatened you?' she asked. + +"'No,' replied the Prince, 'but I have to-day scarcely been able to +endure my anxiety to learn your decision. Never in all these terrible +years has my suffering been greater, never have I so loathed the hideous +disguise in which I am compelled to live.' + +"Tears filled the Princess's eyes. Had anything been wanting to decide +her, the deep pity which she now felt for the unfortunate Prince would +have done so. + +"'I _have_ decided!' she exclaimed. 'Three years will soon pass, and I +shall be well able to amuse myself with all the charming things with +which I am surrounded. Besides, I shall see you every day, and the +looking forward to that will help to cheer me.' + +"It would be impossible to tell the Prince's delight. He became at once +as gay and lively as the day before. The Princess and he had supper +together, and amused themselves afterwards with the enchanted balls, and +the evening passed so quickly that the princess could hardly believe +more than one hour instead of three had gone, when he started up, saying +his time was over. It was sad to see him go, forced, through no fault of +his own, to return to his hated disguise; but still it was with a +lightened heart that the poor brown bull went tramping about during the +next one-and-twenty hours. + +"And on her side the Princess's lonely hours were cheered by the thought +that she was to be the means of freeing him from the power of the +terrible spell, for all that she saw of him only served to increase her +sympathy and respect. + +"So time went on. The Princess got more and more accustomed to her +strange life, and every day more attached to the Prince, who on his side +could not do enough to prove to her his gratitude. For many weeks he +never failed to enter her presence the instant the sun had sunk below +the horizon, and the three hours they spent together made amends to both +for the loneliness of the rest of the day. And whenever the Princess +felt inclined to murmur, she renewed her patience and courage by the +thought of how much harder to bear was the Prince's share of the trial. +She was allowed to remain in peaceful security, and to employ her time +in pleasant and interesting ways; while he was forced to rove the world +as a hateful monster, shunned by any of the human race whom he happened +to meet, constantly exposed to fatigue and privation. + +"Sometimes they spent a part of the evening in the beautiful gardens +surrounding the palace. There, one day, as sunset was approaching, the +Princess had betaken herself to wait the Prince's arrival, when a sad +shock met her. It was past the usual hour of his coming. Several times +she had wandered up and down the path by which he generally approached +the castle, tossing her balls as she went, for more than once he had +seen their glitter from a distance, and known by it that she was +waiting. But this evening she waited and watched in vain, and at last, a +strange anxiety seizing her, she turned towards the castle to see if +possibly he had entered from the other side, and was hurrying back when +a low moan reached her ears, causing her heart for an instant almost to +leave off beating with terror. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE END OF THE BROWN BULL. + + "'And happy they ever lived after'-- + Yes, that was the end of the tale." + + +"The Princess collected her courage, and turned in the direction of the +sound. It seemed to come from a little thicket of close-growing bushes +near which she had been passing. For a minute or two she could +distinguish nothing, but another moan guided her in the right direction, +and there, to her horror and distress, she saw the poor Prince lying on +the ground, pale and death-like. At first she thought he was without +consciousness, but when she hastened up to him with a cry, he opened his +eyes. + +"'Ah!' he said, faintly; 'I never thought I should have escaped alive. +How good of you to have come to seek for me, Princess; otherwise I might +have died here without seeing you again.' + +"'But you must not die,' said the Princess, weeping; 'can nothing be +done for you?' + +"He tried to sit up, and when the Princess had fetched him some water +from one of the numerous springs in the garden, he seemed better. But +his right arm was badly injured. + +"'How did it happen?' asked the Princess. 'I thought no mortal weapon +had power to hurt you. That has been my only consolation through these +lonely days of waiting.' + +"'You are right,' replied the Prince; 'as a bull nothing can injure me, +but in my own form I am in no way magically preserved. All day long I +have been chased by hunters, who saw in me, I suppose, a valuable prize. +I was terrified of the hour of sunset arriving and finding me far from +home. I used my utmost endeavour to reach this in time, but, alas! I was +overcome with fatigue, from which no spell protects me. At the entrance +to these gardens I saw the sun disappear, and I fell exhausted, just as +an arrow struck my right arm at the moment of my transformation. All I +could do was to crawl in among these bushes, and here I have lain, +thankful to escape from my persecutors, and most thankful to the happy +thought, Princess, which brought you this way.' + +"The Princess, her eyes still full of tears, helped him to the palace, +where she bound up his arm and tended him carefully, for, young as she +was, she had learnt many useful acts of this kind in her father's +castle. The wound was not a very serious one; the Prince was suffering +more from exhaustion and fatigue. + +"'If I could spend a day or two here in peace,' he said sadly, 'I should +quickly recover. But, alas! that is impossible. I must submit to my +cruel fate. But this night I must confine my wanderings to the forests +in this neighbourhood, where, perhaps, I may be able to hide from the +huntsmen, who, no doubt, will be watching for me.' + +"He sighed heavily, and the Princess's heart grew very sad. + +"'I have little more than an hour left,' he said. + +"'Yes,' said the Princess, 'sleep if you can; I will not disturb you.' + +"And when she saw that he had fallen asleep she went into the other +room, where in a corner lay the bull's skin, which the Prince had +dragged behind him from the spot where it had fallen off as the sun +sank. + +"The Princess looked at it with a fierce expression, very different to +the usual gentle look in her pretty eyes. + +"'Hateful thing!' she said, giving it a kick with her little foot; 'I +wonder how I could get rid of you. Even if the Prince did risk never +seeing me again, I am not sure but that it would be better for him than +to lead this dreadful life.' + +"And as her fancy pictured her poor Prince forced in this monstrous +disguise to wander about all night tired and shelterless, her +indignation rose beyond her control. She forgot where she was, she +forgot the magic power that surrounded her, she forgot everything except +her distress and anxiety. + +"'Hateful thing!' she repeated, giving the skin another kick; 'I wish +you were burnt to cinders.' + +"Hardly had she said the words when a sudden noise like a clap of +thunder shook the air; a flash of lightning seemed to glance past her +and alight on the skin, which in an instant shrivelled up to a cinder +like a burnt glove. Too startled at first to know whether she should +rejoice or not, the Princess gazed at her work in bewilderment, when a +voice of anguish, but, alas! a well-known voice, made her turn round. It +was the Prince, hastening from the palace with an expression half of +anger half of sorrowful reproach on his face. + +"'O Princess, Princess,' he cried, 'what have you done? But a little +more patience and all might have been well. And now I know not if I +shall ever see you again.' + +"'O Prince, forgive me, I did not mean it,' sobbed the poor Princess. 'I +_will_ see you again, and all shall yet be well.' + +"'Seek for me across the hill of ice and the sea of glass,' said the +Prince; but almost before the words had passed his lips a second +thunderclap, louder and more terrific than the first, was heard. The +Princess sank half fainting on the ground. When she again opened her +eyes, Prince, palace, everything had disappeared. She was alone, quite +alone, on a barren moorland, night coming on, and a cold cutting wind +freezing the blood in her veins. And she was clothed in the plain black +dress with which she had made her strange journey riding on the brown +bull. + +"It must be a dream, she thought, a terrible dream, and she shut her +eyes again. But no, it was no dream, and soon her courage revived, and +she began to ask herself what she should do. + +"'Seek me beyond the hill of ice and the sea of glass,' the Prince had +said; and she rose up to begin her weary journey. As she rose her hand +came in contact with something hard in the folds of her dress; it was +her golden balls. With the greatest delight she took them out of her +pocket and looked at them. They were as bright and beautiful as ever, +and the fairy's prophecy returned to the Princess's mind. + +"'With my balls and my ready wit I shall yet conquer the evil powers +that are against my poor Prince,' she said to herself cheerfully. +'Courage! all will be well." + +"But there were sore trials to go through in the first place. The +Princess set off on her journey. She had to walk many weary miles across +the moor, the cold wind blowing in her face, the rough ground pricking +her tender feet. But she walked on and on till at last the morning broke +and she saw a road before her, bordered on one side by a forest of +trees, for she had reached the extreme edge of the moor. She had gone +but a little way when she came to a small and miserable hovel, from +which issued feeble sounds of distress. The Princess went up to the door +and looked in--a very old woman sat huddled up in a corner weeping and +lamenting herself. + +"'What is the matter, my friend?' asked the Princess. + +"'Matter enough,' replied the old woman. 'I cannot light my fire, and I +am bitterly cold. Either the sticks are wet, or the strength has gone +out of my poor old arms.' + +"'Let me help you,' said the Princess. 'My arms are strong enough.' + +"She took the sticks and arranged them cleverly in the fireplace, and +just as she was choosing two of the driest to rub together to get a +light, one of her balls dropped out of her pocket. It fell on to the +piled-up wood, and immediately a bright flame danced up the chimney. The +Princess picked up her ball and put it back in her pocket, cheered and +encouraged by this proof of their magic power. The old woman came near +to the fire, and stretched out her withered hands to the blaze. + +"'What can I do for you, my pretty lady,' she said, 'in return for your +good nature?' + +"'Give me a cup of milk to refresh me for my journey,' said the +Princess. 'And perhaps, too, you can tell me something about my journey. +Are the hill of ice and the sea of glass anywhere in this +neighbourhood?' + +"The old woman smiled and nodded her head two or three times. + +"'Seven days must you travel,' she said, 'before you see them. At the +foot of the hill of ice lies the sea of glass. No mortal foot unaided +has ever crossed the one or ascended the other. Here, take these +shoes--with them you can safely walk over the sea of glass, and with +this staff you can mount the hill of ice,' and as she spoke she handed +to the Princess a pair of curiously carved wooden shoes and a short +sharp-pointed stick. The Princess took them gratefully, and would have +thanked the old woman, whom she now knew to be a fairy, but she stopped +her. "'Think not,' she said, 'that your difficulties will be over when +you have reached the summit of the hill of ice. But all I can do for you +more is to give you this nut, which you must open in your moment of +sorest perplexity.' + +"And as the Princess held out her hand for the nut the old woman had +disappeared. + +"But refreshed and encouraged the Princess left the cottage, carrying +with her her three gifts, and prepared to face all the perils of her +journey with an undaunted heart. + +"It would be impossible to describe all she went through during the +seven days which passed before she reached the sea of glass. She saw +some strange and wonderful sights, for in those days the world was very +different from what it is now. She was often tired and hungry, thankful +for a cup of milk or crust of bread from those she happened to meet on +the way. But her courage never failed her, and at last, on the morning +of the eighth day, she saw shining before her in the sunlight the great +silent sea of glass of which she had been told. + +"It would have been hopeless to attempt to cross it without fairy aid, +for it was polished more brightly than any mirror, and so hard that no +young Princess's bones could have borne a fall on its cruel surface. But +with the magic shoes there was less than no difficulty, for no sooner +had the Princess slipped her feet into them than they turned into +skates, and very wonderful skates, for they possessed the power of +enabling their wearer to glide along with the greatest swiftness. The +Princess had never skated in her life, and she was delighted. + +"'Next to flying,' she said to herself, 'nothing could be pleasanter,' +and she was almost sorry when her skim across the sea of glass was over, +and she found herself at the foot of the hill of ice. + +"She looked upwards with something like despair. It was a terrible +ascent to attempt, for the mountain was all but straight, so steep were +its sides of hard, clear, sparkling ice. The Princess looked at her +feet, the magic shoes had already disappeared; she looked at the staff +she still held in her hand--how could a stick help her up such a +mountain? and half impatiently, half hopelessly, she threw it from her. +Instantly it stretched itself out, growing wider and wider, the notches +in the wood expanding, till it had taken the shape of a roughly-made +ladder of irregular steps, hooked on to the ice by the sharp spike at +its end, and the Princess, ashamed of her discouragement, mounted up the +steps without difficulty, and as she reached the top one, of itself the +ladder pushed up before her, so that she could mount straight up without +hesitation. + +"She stepped forward bravely. It took a long time, even though she had +the fairy aid, and by the time she reached the top of the hill night had +fallen, and but for the light of the stars, she would not have known +where to step. A long plain stretched before her--no trees or bushes +even broke the wide expanse. There was no shelter of any kind, and the +Princess found herself obliged to walk on and on, for the wind was very +cold, and she dared not let herself rest. This night and the next day +were the hardest part of all the journey, and seemed even more so, +because the Princess had hoped that the sea of glass and the hill of ice +were to be the worst of her difficulties. More than once she was tempted +to crack the nut, the last of the old woman's presents, but she +refrained, saying to herself she might yet be in greater need, and she +walked on and on, though nearly dead with cold and fatigue, till late in +the afternoon. Then at last, far before her still, she saw gleaming the +lights of a city, and, encouraged by the sight, she gathered her courage +together and pressed on, till, at the door of a little cottage at the +outskirts of the town, she sank down with fatigue. An old woman, with a +kind face, came out of the house and invited her to enter and rest. + +"'You look sorely tired, my child,' she said. 'Have you travelled far?' + +"'Ah yes!' replied the poor Princess, 'very far. I am nearly dead with +fatigue;' and indeed she looked very miserable. Her beautiful fair hair +was all tumbled and soiled, her poor little feet were scratched and +blistered, her black dress torn and draggled--she looked far more like a +beggar-maiden than like a princess. But yet, her pretty way of speaking +and gentle manners showed she was not what she seemed, and when she had +washed her face and combed her hair, the old woman looked at her with +admiration. + +"'Tis a pity you have not a better dress,' she said, 'for then you could +have gone with me to see the rejoicings in the town for the marriage of +our Prince.' + +"'Is your Prince to be married to-day?' asked the Princess. + +"'No, not to-day--to-morrow,' said the old woman. 'But the strange thing +is that it is not yet known who is to be his bride. The Prince has only +lately returned to his home, for, for many years, he has been shut up by +a fairy spell in a beautiful palace in the north, and now that the spell +is broken and he is restored to his parents, they are anxious to see him +married. But he must still be under a spell of some kind, they say, for +though he has all that heart can wish, he is ever sad and silent, and as +if he were thinking of something far away. And he has said that he will +marry no princess but one who can catch three golden balls at a time, as +if young princesses were brought up to be jugglers! Nevertheless, all +the princesses far and wide have been practising their best at catching +balls, and to-morrow the great feasts are to begin, and she who catches +best is to be chosen out of all the princesses as the bride of our +Prince.' + +"The poor Princess listened with a beating heart to the old woman's +talk. There could be no doubt as to who the Prince of this country was. + +"'I have come but just in time,' she said to herself, and then she +rose, and thanking her hostess for her kindness, said she must be going. + +"'But where are you going, you poor child?' said the old woman. 'You +look far too tired to go farther and for two or three days all these +rejoicings will make the country unpleasant for a young girl to travel +through alone. Stay with me till you are rested.' + +"The Princess thanked her with tears in her eyes for her kindness. 'I +have nothing to reward you with,' she said, 'but some day I may be able +to do so' and then she thankfully accepted her offer. + +"'And to-morrow,' said the old woman, 'you must smarten yourself up as +well as you can, and then we shall go out to see the gay doings.' + +"But the Princess lay awake all night thinking what she should do to +make herself known to her faithful Prince. + +"The next day the old woman went out early to hear all about the +festivities. She came back greatly excited. + +"'Come quickly,' she said. 'The crowd is so great that no one will +notice your poor clothes. And, indeed, among all the pretty girls there +will be none prettier than you,' she added, looking admiringly at the +Princess, who had arranged her beautiful hair and brushed her soiled +dress, and who looked sweeter than ever now that she was rested and +refreshed. 'There are three princesses who have come to the feast,' she +went on, 'the first from the south, the second from the east, the third +from the west, each more beautiful than another, the people say. The +trial of the golden balls is to be in the great hall of the palace, and +a friend of mine has promised me a place at one of the windows which +overlook it, so that we can see the whole;' and the Princess, feeling as +if she were in a dream, rose up to accompany the old woman, her balls +and her precious nut in her pocket. + +"They made their way through the crowd and placed themselves at the +window, as the old woman had said. The Princess looked down at the great +hall below, all magnificently decorated and already filled with +spectators. Suddenly the trumpet sounded, and the Prince in whose honour +was all the rejoicing entered. At sight of him--her own Prince indeed, +but looking so strangely pale and sad that she would hardly have +recognised him--the Princess could not restrain a little cry. + +"'What is it?' said the old woman. + +"'A passer-by trod on my foot,' said the Princess, fearful of attracting +attention. And the old woman said no more, for at this moment another +blast of trumpets announced the arrival of the princesses, who were to +make the trial of the balls. The first was tall and dark, with raven +tresses and brilliant, flashing eyes. She was dressed in a robe of rich +maize colour, and as she took her place on the dais she looked round +her, as if to say, 'Who can compete with me in beauty or in skill?' And +she was the Princess of the south. + +"The second was also tall, and her hair was of a deep rich brown, and +her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks rosy. She was dressed in bright +pink, and laughed as she came forward, as if sure of herself and her +attractions. And she was the Princess of the east. + +"The third moved slowly, and as if she cared little what was thought of +her, so confident was she of her pre-eminence. She wore a blue robe, and +her face was pale and her eyes cold, though beautiful. And her hair had +a reddish tinge, but yet she too was beautiful. And she was the Princess +of the west. + +"The Prince bowed low to each, but no smile lit up his grave face, and +his glance rested but an instant on each fair Princess as she +approached. + +"'Are these ladies all?' he asked, in a low voice, as if expecting yet +more. And when the answer came, 'Yes, these are all,' a still deeper +melancholy settled on his face, and he seemed indifferent to all about +him. + +"Then the trial began. The Prince had three golden balls, one of which +he offered to each Princess. They took them, and each threw one back to +him. Then one after another, as quick as lightning, he threw all three +to the yellow Princess. She caught them all and threw them back; again +he returned them, but the first only, reached her hand, the second and +third fell to the ground, and with another low bow the Prince turned +from her, and her proud face grew scarlet with anger. The pink Princess +fared no better. She was laughing so, as if to show her confidence, that +she missed the third ball, even at the first throw, and when the Prince +turned also from her she laughed again, though this time her laughter +was not all mirth. Then the cold blue Princess came forward. She caught +the balls better, but at the third throw, one of them rising higher than +the others, she would not trouble herself to stretch her arm out +farther, so it fell to the ground, and as the Prince turned from her +likewise, a great silence came over the crowd. + +"Suddenly a cry arose. 'A fourth Princess,' the people shouted, and the +old woman up at the window was so eager to see the new-comer that she +did not notice that her companion had disappeared. She had watched the +failure of the two first Princesses, then seeing what was coming she had +quietly made her way through the crowd to a hidden corner behind the +great pillars of the hall. There, her hands trembling with eagerness, +she drew forth from the magic nut, which she had cracked with her pretty +teeth, a wonderful fairy robe of spotless white. In an instant her black +dress was thrown to her feet, and the white garment, which fitted her as +if by magic, had taken its place. Never was Princess dressed in such a +hurry, but never was toilette more successful. And as the cry arose of +'A fourth Princess' she made her way up the hall. From one end to the +other she came, rapidly making her way through the crowd, which cleared +before her in surprise and admiration, for as she walked she threw +before her, catching them ever as she went, her golden balls. Her fair +hair floated on her shoulders, her white robe gleamed like snow, her +sweet face, flushed with hope and eagerness, was like that of a happy +child, her eyes saw nothing but the one figure standing at the far end +of the hall, the figure of the Prince, who, as the cry reached his +ears, started forward with a hope he hardly dared encourage, holding out +his hands as she came nearer and yet nearer in joyfulness of welcome. + +"But she waved him back--then, taking her place where the other +Princesses had stood, she threw her balls, one, two, three; in an +instant they were caught by the Prince, and returned to her like flashes +of lightning over and over again, never failing, never falling, as if +attached by invisible cords, till at last a great cry arose from the +crowds, and the Prince led forward, full in the view of the people, his +beautiful bride, his true Princess. + +"Then all her troubles were forgotten, and every one rejoiced, save +perhaps the three unsuccessful Princesses, who consoled themselves by +saying there was magic in it, and so possibly there was. But there is +more than one kind of magic, and some kinds, it is to be hoped, the +world will never be without. And messengers were sent to summon to the +wedding the father and mother of the Princess, who all this time had +been in doubt and anxiety as to the fate of their dear child. And the +kind old woman who had sheltered her in her poverty and distress was not +forgotten." + +The voice stopped--for a minute or two the children sat silent, not +sure if they were to hear anything else. Strangely enough, as the story +went on, it seemed more and more as if it were Marcelline's voice that +was telling it, and at last Hugh looked up to see if it was still the +white lady, whose knee his head was resting on. Jeanne too looked up at +the same moment, and both children gave a little cry of surprise. The +white lady had disappeared, and it was indeed Marcelline who was in her +place. The white room, the white chairs, the white cats, the +spinning-wheel, and the pointed windows, had all gone, and instead there +was old Marcelline with her knitting-needles gently clicking in a +regular way, that somehow to Hugh seemed mixed up with his remembrance +of the soft whirr of the wheel, her neatly frilled cap round her face, +and her bright dark eyes smiling down at the children. Hugh felt so +sorry and disappointed that he shut his eyes tight and tried to go on +dreaming, if indeed dreaming it was. But it was no use. He leant his +face against Marcelline's soft white apron and tried to fancy it the +fairy lady's fairy robe; but it was no use. He had to sit up and look +about him. + +"Well," said Marcelline, "and didn't you like the story?" + +Hugh looked at Jeanne. It couldn't be a dream then--there _had_ been a +story, for if he had been asleep, of course he couldn't have heard it. +He said nothing, however--he waited to see what Jeanne would say. Jeanne +tossed back her head impatiently. + +"Of course I liked it," she said. "It's a beautiful story. But, +Marcelline, how did you turn into yourself--_was_ it you all the time? +Why didn't you leave us with the white lady?" + +Hugh was so pleased at what Jeanne said that he didn't mind a bit about +Marcelline having taken the place of the white lady. Jeanne was the same +as he was--that was all he cared about. He jumped up eagerly--they were +in Jeanne's room, close to the fire, and both Jeanne and he had their +little red flannel dressing-gowns on. + +"How did these come here?" he said, touching the sleeve of his own one. + +"Yes," said Jeanne. "And where are our wings, if you please, Mrs. +Marcelline?" + +Marcelline only smiled. + +"I went to fetch you," she said, "and of course I didn't want you to +catch cold on the way back." + +But that was _all_ they could get her to say, and then she carried them +off to bed, and they both slept soundly till morning. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +DUDU'S OLD STORY. + + "It was not a story, however, + But just of old days that had been." + CHILD NATURE. + + +It was queer, but so it was. The children said very little to each other +the next day of their new adventures. Only Hugh felt satisfied that this +time little Jeanne had forgotten nothing; daylight Jeanne and moonlight +Jeanne were the same. Yet he had a feeling that if he said much about +it, if he persisted in trying to convince Jeanne that he had been right +all through, he might spoil it all. It would be like seizing the fairy +lady's cobweb threads roughly, and spoiling them, and finding you had +nothing left. He felt now quite content to let it all be like a pretty +dream which they both knew about, but which was not for everyday life. + +Only one impression remained on his mind. He got the greatest wish to +learn to throw balls like the princess of the Brown Bull story, and for +some days every time they went out, he kept peering in at the toy-shop +windows to see if such a thing as golden balls was to be had. And at +last Jeanne asked him what he was always looking for, and then he told +her. + +She agreed with him that golden balls would be a very pretty play, but +she was afraid such a thing could not be found. + +"They were fairy balls, you know, Cheri," she said, gravely. + +"Yes," Hugh replied, "he knew they were; he did not expect such balls as +they were, of course, but still he didn't see why they might not get +some sort of gold-looking balls. There were red and blue, and green ones +in plenty. He didn't see why there should be no gold ones." + +"Gold is so very dear," said Jeanne. + +"Yes, real gold is, of course," said Hugh; "but there are lots of things +that look like gold that can't be real gold--picture frames, and the +edges of books, and lots of other things." + +"Yes," said Jeanne, "but still, I don't see that the stuff any of those +are made of would do to make balls of." + +However, she joined Hugh in the search, and many a day when they were +out they peeped together not only into the toy-shops, but into the +windows of the queer old curiosity shops, of which, in the ancient town +which was Jeanne's home, there were many. And at last one day they told +Marcelline what it was they were so anxious to find. She shook her head. +There was no such toy in _this_ country, she said, but she did not laugh +at them, or seem to think them silly. And she advised them to be content +with the prettiest balls they _could_ get, which were of nice smooth +buff-coloured leather, very well made, and neither too soft nor too +hard. And in the sunlight, said Jeanne, they really had rather a shiny, +goldy look. + +For several days to come these balls were a great interest to the +children. Early and late they were practising at them, and, with +patience and perseverance, they before long arrived at a good deal of +skill. Jeanne was the quicker in the first place, but Hugh was so +patient that he soon equalled her, and then the interest grew still +greater. + +"I really think, Cheri," said Jeanne, one evening, when they had been +playing for a good while, "I really think our balls are _getting_ to be +rather like fairy ones. Every day they go better and better." + +"Perhaps it is our hands that are getting to be like fairy ones," said +Hugh. "But it is growing too dark to see to play any more." + +They were playing in the tapestry room, for Marcelline had told them +they would have more space there, as it was large, and Hugh's little bed +in the corner did not take up much room. It was getting dusk, for the +days were not yet very long, though winter was almost over, and they had +been playing a good while. As Hugh spoke he gave the last ball a final +throw high up in the air, higher than usual, for though Jeanne sprang +forward to catch it, she missed it somehow. It dropped to the ground +behind her. + +"O Cheri!" she cried, reproachfully, "that is the first time I have +missed. Oh dear, where can the ball have gone to?" + +She stooped down to look for it, and in a minute Hugh was down beside +her. They felt all about, creeping on their hands and knees, but the +missing ball was not to be so easily found. + +[Illustration: 'IS THIS A NEW PART OF THE HOUSE?'--p. 201.] + +"It must have got behind the tapestry," said Hugh, pulling back as he +spoke, a corner of the hangings close to where he and Jeanne were, +which seemed loose. And at the same moment both children gave a little +cry of astonishment. Instead of the bare wall which they expected to +see, or to feel rather, behind the tapestry, a flight of steps met their +view--a rather narrow flight of steps running straight upwards, without +twisting or turning, and lighted from above by a curious hanging lamp, +hanging by long chains from a roof high up, which they could not see. + +"Why, is this a new part of the house?" cried Hugh. "Jeanne, did you +know there were stairs behind the tapestry?" + +"No, of course not," said Jeanne. "It must be a part of our house, I +suppose, but I never saw it before. Shall we go up, Cheri, and see where +it takes us to? Perhaps it's another way to the white lady's turret, and +she'll tell us another story." + +"No," said Hugh, "I don't believe it leads to her turret, and I don't +think we could find our way there again. She seemed to mean we could +never go again, I think. But we may as well go up this stair, and see +what we do find, Jeanne." + +And just at that moment a funny thing happened. They heard a little +noise, and looking up, there--hopping down the stair before them, step +by step, as if some one had started it from the top, came the lost +ball, or what the children thought the lost ball, for with an +exclamation Hugh darted forward to pick it up, and held it out to +Jeanne. But Jeanne looked at it with astonishment. + +"Why, Cheri," she cried, "it's turned into gold." + +So it was, or at least into something which looked just like it. + +"Cheri," Jeanne went on, her eyes dancing with excitement, "I do believe +this is another way into Fairyland, or into some other queer place like +what we've seen. Come on, quick." + +The children seized hold of each other's hands, and hurried up the +stair. The steps were easier to mount than those of the corkscrew +staircase up to the white lady's turret, and very soon the children +found themselves at the top of the first flight. There, looking upwards, +they could see the roof. It was a sort of cupola; the chains from which +the lamps hung were fastened to the centre, but the rest of the roof was +of glass, and through it the children saw the sky, already quite dark, +and with innumerable stars dotting its surface. + +"Come on, Cheri," said Jeanne; "I believe this stair leads out on to the +roof of the house." + +So it did. A door at the top opened as they ran up the last steps, and a +familiar figure stepped out. + +"Dudu!" exclaimed Jeanne, in a tone of some disappointment. + +"Did you not expect to see me?" said the raven. "Why, I thought it would +amuse you to come up here and see the stars." + +"So it will," said Hugh, anxious to make up for Jeanne's abruptness. +"But, you see, we thought--at least we hoped--we should find some new +adventures up here, especially when the ball hopped down the stairs, all +gold." + +"What did you expect?" said Dudu, cocking his head. "Fairies, I suppose, +or enchanted princesses, or something of that kind. What creatures +children are for wonders, to be sure." + +"Now, Dudu," said Jeanne, "you needn't talk that way. Whether we're fond +of wonders or not, anyhow it's you that's given us them to be fond of. +It was you that sent us to the frogs' country, and all that, and it was +you that took us to hear the white lady's story. So you're not to laugh +at us, and you must find us some more adventures, now you've brought us +up here." + +"Adventures don't grow on every tree, Mademoiselle Jeanne," remarked +Dudu. + +"Well, _Dudus_ don't either," replied Jeanne; "but as we've got _you_, +you see, it all depends on you to get us the adventures. I know you can, +if you like." + +Dudu shook his head. + +"No," he said, "there are many things I can't do. But come out on to the +roof, we can talk there just as well." + +He just turned towards the door by which he had entered, and it opened +of itself. He hopped through, and the children followed him. They found +themselves, as Dudu had said, on the roof of the house, of a part of the +house, that is to say. It seemed more like the roof of a little tower or +turret. + +Hugh and Jeanne stood for a moment or two in silence, looking up at the +brilliant show of stars overhead. It was not cold, the air seemed +peculiarly fresh and sweet, as if it were purer and finer than that +lower down. + +"It's rather nice up here, eh?" said Dudu. + +"Yes, very," replied Hugh. "We're very much obliged to you for bringing +us up here. Aren't we, Jeanne?" + +"Yes," said Jeanne, "not counting fairies and adventures that's to say, +it's very nice up here." + +"I often come up here at night," said Dudu. "I wonder how many thousand +times I've been up here." + +"Are you so very old, Dudu?" said Jeanne, "as old as the white lady?" + +"I daresay," said Dudu, vaguely--he seemed to be thinking to himself. +"Yes," he continued, cocking his head on one side, "I suppose I am what +_you_ would call very old, though the white lady would consider me quite +a baby. Yes, I've seen queer things in my time." + +"_What?_" said the children both together, eagerly, "oh, do tell us some +of them. If you would tell us a story, Dudu, it would be as nice as an +adventure." + +"Stories," said Dudu, "are hardly in my line. I might tell you a little +of some things I've seen, but I don't know that they would interest +you." + +"Oh yes! oh yes!" cried the children, "of course they would. And it's so +nice and warm up here, Dudu--much warmer than in the house." + +"Sit down, then," said Dudu, "here, in this corner. You can lean against +the parapet,"--for a low wall ran round the roof--"and look at the stars +while you listen to me. Well--one day, a good long while ago you would +consider it, no doubt----" + +"Was it a hundred years ago?" interrupted Jeanne. + +"About that, I daresay," said the raven carelessly. "I cannot be quite +exact to twenty or thirty years, or so. Well, one day--it was a very hot +day, I remember, and I had come up here for a little change of air--I +was standing on the edge of the parapet watching our two young ladies +who were walking up and down the terrace path down there, and thinking +how nice they looked in their white dresses and blue sashes tied close +up under their arms, like the picture of your great-grandmother as a +young girl, in the great salon, Mademoiselle Jeanne." + +"Oh yes, I know it," said Jeanne. "She has a nice face, but _I_ don't +think her dress is at all pretty, Dudu." + +"And I don't suppose your great-grandmother would think yours at all +pretty, either, Mademoiselle Jeanne," said Dudu, with the queer sort of +croak which he used for a laugh. "It is one of the things that has +amazed me very much in my observations--the strange fancies the human +race has about clothes. Of course you are not so fortunate as we are in +having them ready-made, but still I cannot understand why you don't do +the best you can--adopt a pattern and keep to it always. It would be the +next best thing to having feathers, _I_ should say." + +"I don't think so," said Jeanne. "It would be very stupid every morning +when you got up, and every time you were going out, or friends coming to +see you, or anything like that--it would be _very_ stupid never to have +to think, 'What shall I put on?' or to plan what colours would look nice +together. There would hardly be any use in having shops or dressmakers, +or anything. And _certainly_, Monsieur Dudu, I wouldn't choose to be +dressed like you, never anything but black--as if one were always going +to a funeral." + +"It is all a matter of taste, Mademoiselle," replied Dudu, so amiably +that Hugh wondered more and more at his politeness to Jeanne, who was +certainly not very civil to him. "For my part, I confess I have always +had a great fancy for white--the force of contrast, I suppose--and this +brings me back to telling you how very nice your great-grandmother and +her sister looked that day walking up and down the terrace path in their +white dresses." + +"My great-grandmother!" exclaimed Jeanne. "Why, you said 'our young +ladies.'" + +"So they were our young ladies," replied Dudu. "Even though one was your +great-grandmother, Mademoiselle, and not yours only but Monsieur Cheri's +too, and the other, of course, your great-grand-aunt. There have been +many 'our young ladies' that I can remember in this house, which has so +long been the home of one family, and my home always. In three or four +hundred years one sees a good deal. Ah yes! Well, as I was saying, I was +standing on the edge of the parapet looking over at the young ladies, +and admiring them and the sunshine and the flowers in the garden all at +once, when I suddenly heard a window open. It was not one of the windows +of our house. I have very quick ears, and I knew that in an instant, so +I looked about to see what window it was. In those days there were not +quite so many houses behind our garden as there are now. Your +great-great-grandfather sold some of the land about that time, and then +houses were built, but just then there were only two or three that +overlooked one side of the garden. One of them was a large high house, +which was let in flats to various families, often visitors to the town, +or strangers who had come for a short time for the education of their +children, or some other reason. It was not long before I discovered +that the window I had heard open was in this house. It was one on the +second story, looking on to a little balcony which at one end was not +very high above the terrace walk. I watched to see who had opened the +window, and in a few moments I saw peeping out half timidly the pretty +fair face of a little girl. Quite a little girl she was, not much older +than you, Mademoiselle Jeanne, but not like you, for she had light hair +and soft blue eyes, and a fair face like Monsieur Cheri. She was a +little English girl. She peeped out, and then, seeing that no one was +observing her, she came quietly on to the balcony, and, creeping down +into a corner where she could scarcely be seen, she sat watching our two +pretty young ladies with all her eyes. No wonder, I thought; they were +very pretty young ladies, and it was nice to see them together, walking +up and down with arms intertwined, and talking eagerly, their talk +sometimes interrupted by merry bursts of soft girlish laughter. And all +the time the lonely little creature on the balcony sat and watched them +longingly, her little pale face pressed against the bars, her plain +black dress almost hiding her from notice. + +"'How happy they look, those pretty young ladies,' the lonely little +girl said to herself. 'How happy I should be if I had a sister, for I +have no one to talk to, no one to kiss me and play with me and if ever I +say I am sad my aunt is angry. O mother! why did you go away and leave +me?'" + +"Could you hear all that from up here on the roof?" said Jeanne. "Dear +me, Dudu, you must have good ears." + +"Of course I have; I told you so, Mademoiselle," said Dudu drily. "I had +better ears than your great-grandmother and her sister, for they heard +nothing, not even when the poor little girl took courage to push her +face farther forward between the railings, and to say very softly and +timidly, + +"'Mesdemoiselles, Mesdemoiselles, _might_ I come and walk with you? I am +so tired of being here all alone.' + +"They did not hear her. They were talking too busily about the fete of +their mother, I think, which was to be in a few days, and of what they +were to prepare for her. And the poor little girl sat up there for more +than an hour watching them with longing eyes, but not daring to call out +more loudly. It made me quite melancholy to see her, and when at last +our young ladies went in, and she had to give up hopes of gaining their +attention, it made me more melancholy still, she looked so +disappointed, and her eyes were full of tears; and I felt quite upset +about her, and kept turning over in my head what I could do to make her +happier. I thought about it for some time, and at last I decided that +the first thing to do was to find out more about the little stranger and +the cause of her grief. For this purpose I stationed myself the next +morning just below the window of the kitchen of her house, which, by +hopping from the balcony, I was easily able to do, and by listening to +the conversation of the servants I soon learned all I wanted to know. +She was, as I had supposed, a little English girl. Her mother had died +in Italy but a short time before, and she was now in the charge of her +mother's aunt, an elderly and severe lady, who understood nothing about +children, and took no pains to make poor little Charlotte happy. So it +was a sad life for the child, whose father also was dead; and as from +the talk of the servants I gathered that she was a good and gentle +little girl, I felt more sorry for her than before; and as I hopped back +on to the balcony I looked to see if she was again at the window. Yes, +there she was, her face pressed against the glass, staring out in the +direction of the terrace walk, watching, no doubt, to see if our young +ladies were coming out again. I hopped in front of the window backwards +and forwards two or three times to catch her attention, and a smile lit +up her little pale face when she saw me. + +"'Good day, Mr. Raven,' she said politely. 'Have you come to see me? It +is very kind of you if you have, for I have nobody to play with. But, +oh! if you could tell those pretty young ladies how I should like to +walk about their garden with them, how pleased I should be.' + +"I bowed to her in token of understanding what she said, but I was not +sure that she noticed it, for she just went on chattering in her soft +little voice. + +"'Poor old raven,' she said. 'What a pity you can't speak, for if you +could I might send a message by you to those pretty young ladies;' and +though I walked slowly backwards and forwards on the balcony, and bowed +most politely each time I passed her, yet she did not seem to +understand." + +"Why didn't you speak?" interrupted Jeanne. "You can speak quite well to +Cheri and me. Had you not learned to speak at that time, Dudu?" + +The raven hemmed and hawed and cleared his throat. + +"It is not to the point, Mademoiselle," he said, "to enter into all +these explanations. If you would have the goodness to let me continue my +reminiscences without interrupting me, I should really be obliged. I +warned you I had not any amusing stories to tell, merely recollections +of scenes in my past life. If you would prefer my leaving off, you have +only to say so." + +"Oh no, no. Please go on," exclaimed Jeanne, seeing that the raven was +really ruffled. "I think it's _very_ interesting, and I'll promise not +to interrupt you any more." + +"Well," continued Dudu, "I bowed, as I told you, very politely two or +three times, and at last I hopped away, still revolving in my mind how I +could serve the poor little girl. That afternoon our young ladies came +again on to the terrace, but they did not stay long, and the little girl +was not to be seen on the balcony, though I daresay she was peering out +through the window to see as far as she could. And the next day and the +day after were very rainy, so there was nothing I could do. But after +that again there came a very fine day--a beautiful sunny day it was, I +remember it well--and our young ladies came out like the flowers and the +birds to enjoy it. Out, too, came the forlorn little black figure, +hiding itself as before behind the railings of the balcony, but looking +with longing eyes at the garden below, which to her must have seemed a +kind of Paradise. I directed my steps to the terrace, and walked slowly +in front of the young ladies, slowly and solemnly straight in front of +them, for I wanted to attract their attention. + +"'How particularly solemn Dudu looks to-day,' said one of them to the +other. + +"'Yes,' she replied, 'quite as if he had something on his mind. Have you +been doing anything naughty, Dudu?' + +"I turned and looked at her reproachfully. I was not offended, I knew +she was only joking, my character stood far above any imputation; but +still, there are subjects on which jokes are better avoided, and there +_was_ a cousin of mine whose honesty, I am sorry to say, had been more +than once suspected; altogether, I hardly thought the remark in good +taste, and Mademoiselle Eliane was not slow to perceive it. + +"'Poor old Dudu,' she cried; 'have I hurt your feelings? But tell me +what are you looking so solemn about?' + +"I looked at her again, and then, sure that she and her sister were +both watching me with attention, I sprang up the side of the wall next +the little stranger's house, hopped over the balcony railings, and +finding, as I expected, my little friend crouched down in the corner, I +gave a loud, sharp croak, as if something were the matter. Charlotte +started up in a fright, and the young ladies, watching me curiously, for +the first time observed her little figure. + +"'Why, Dudu has a friend up there!' exclaimed Mademoiselle Jeanne--your +great-grandmother, my dears. 'Mademoiselle,' she called out to the +little girl, whose small black figure did not look very much bigger than +mine as we stood up there side by side; 'Mademoiselle, do not be +frightened of our old raven. He will not hurt you.' + +"'I am not frightened, thank you,' said the little girl's gentle voice. +'He has been to see me before. I was only startled when he made that +funny noise. But O Mesdemoiselles,' she continued, clasping her hands in +entreaty, 'you do not know how I should like to come down into your +garden and play with you, or at least,' as she suddenly recollected that +such tall young ladies were rather past the age for mere 'playing,' +'walk about and talk with you. I have watched you so many days, and I am +so lonely. But I did not like to speak to you unless you spoke to me.' + +"'We never saw you,' said Mademoiselle Eliane. 'We should have seen you +now but for the funny way Dudu has been going on, as if he wanted to +introduce us to each other.' + +"I felt quite proud when Mademoiselle Eliane said that. It has always +been a gratification to me to find myself understood. And I felt still +prouder when the little girl replied, looking at me gratefully, + +"'How nice of him! He must have understood what I said to him in fun the +other day. But O Mesdemoiselles,' she went on, '_may_ I come down to +you?' + +"'How can you get down?' said Mademoiselle Jeanne; 'and are you sure your +mother would not mind?' + +"'I have no mother,' said the little girl sadly, 'and my aunt would not +mind, I know. She never minds what I do, if I don't make a noise.' + +"'But how can you get down?' repeated Mademoiselle Jeanne, 'unless Dudu +can take you on his back and fly with you!' + +"'Oh, I can easily get down,' said the little girl; 'I have often +planned it. I can climb over the railings at this end--look, there is a +jutting-out ledge that I can put my foot on. Then I can stand a minute +outside and jump--if you will come close to, so that I shall not roll +down the terrace bank.' + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +AU REVOIR. + + "One after another they flew away + Far up to the heavenly blue, + To the better country, the upper day----" + JEAN INGELOW. + + +"Little Charlotte climbed over the railings," continued Dudu, "but she +did not jump down on the other side, for Mademoiselle Eliane, who was +tall, found that by standing half-way up the bank she could reach the +child and hand her down to Mademoiselle Jeanne, a little way below. +There was a good deal of laughing over it all, and this helped them to +make friends more quickly than anything else would have done. But indeed +Charlotte was not a shy child, she had travelled too much and seen too +many people to be so, and our young ladies, besides, were so kind and +merry that no little girl could long have been strange with them. She +ran about the garden in the greatest delight; her new friends showed +her all their favourite nooks, and allowed her to make a bouquet of the +flowers she liked best; and when they were tired of standing about they +all sat down together on a bank, and Charlotte told to the young ladies +the story of her short life. It was a sad little story; her father had +died when she was very young, and her mother, whose health had never +been good after the shock of his death, had gone to Italy with the aunt +who had brought her up, in hopes of growing stronger. But through two or +three years of sometimes seeming better and sometimes worse, she had +really been steadily failing, and at last she died, leaving her poor +little girl almost alone, 'for the old aunt was now,' said Charlotte, +'always ill, and not ill as mamma used to be,' she added, for however +tired _she_ was, she always liked her little girl to be beside her, and +never wearied of listening to all she had to say. + +"'But now,' said the child, 'I am always alone, and it is _so_ sad. And +I have watched you so often from the balcony, and wished I might come +down to you. And now, if you will let me come to see you every day, I +shall be _so_ happy.' + +"She was a dear little girl, so sweet, and simple, and loving. She +quite gained our young ladies' hearts with her pretty ways and her funny +little English, accent. They kissed her on both cheeks, and told her +they would be very pleased for her to come to them in the garden +whenever she saw them from the balcony, as she was so sure her aunt +would not object to it. They could not invite her to the house, they +explained, unless their mother and her aunt had made acquaintance. Of +course it would not have done, as little Charlotte quite understood; for +in those days," Dudu observed in passing, "politeness and ceremony were +much more observed than is at present, I am sorry to say, the case. + +"The little English girl, however," he went on, "was only too delighted +to have received permission to visit them in their garden. And not many +days passed on which she did not join them there. It was a lovely summer +that year--I remember it so well. Never now does the sun seem to me to +shine quite so brightly as in those days. Perhaps it is that I am +growing old, perhaps the sad days that soon after followed left a cloud +on my memory and a mist on my spirit which have never since entirely +cleared away; however that may be, I never remember so bright and +beautiful a summer as the one I am telling you of. And little +Charlotte's merry laugh was often heard on the terrace walk, as she ran +races with Mademoiselle Eliane's dog, or made daisy wreaths for +Mademoiselle Jeanne's dark hair. Kindness and companionship were all she +required to make her a bright and happy child. But the pleasant summer +faded, and with the first autumn days came a fresh sorrow for the little +girl. One morning, before the usual time for meeting in the garden, I +caught sight of her on the balcony, her face looking again like the +little pale Charlotte I had first known her, her eyes red with weeping. +And as by good chance the young ladies came out soon the reason was soon +explained. + +"'I am going away, my dear young ladies,' cried Charlotte, as she threw +herself into their arms. 'My aunt has just told me. We return to England +in a few days. To England, where I have no friends, where I shall be +again all alone. O Mademoiselle Eliane! O Mademoiselle Jeanne! what +shall I do without you, and your pretty garden, and your kindness, and +poor old Dudu, and the flowers, and everything?' + +"They consoled her as well as they could, my kind young ladies, whose +hearts were always full of sympathy. But the tears came to their own +eyes when they saw how real and acute was the little girl's grief. + +"'You will come back to see us again, little Charlotte, perhaps,' they +said. 'Your aunt has travelled so much, very likely she will not wish to +remain always in England. And you would always find us here--in the +winter at any rate; generally in the summer we spend some months at our +chateau, though this summer our father had business which obliged him to +stay here. But for that we should not have seen you so much.' + +"But Charlotte was not to be consoled. Her aunt, she was sure, would +never travel any more. She had said only that very morning, that once +she got back to England she would stay there for the rest of her life, +she was too old to move about any more. + +"'And I,' added Charlotte, with a fresh burst of weeping, 'I am to be +sent to an English school as soon as aunt can settle about it.' + +"'But you will be happier at school, dear,' said Mademoiselle Eliane. +'You will have friends of your own age.' + +"'I don't want friends of my own age. I shall never love _any_ friends +as much as my dear Mademoiselle Jeanne and my dear Mademoiselle +Eliane,' sobbed Charlotte; and the only thing that consoled her at all +was when the two young ladies found for her among their little treasures +a very prettily painted 'bonbonniere,' and a quaint little workcase, +fitted with thimble, scissors, and all such things, which she promised +them she would always keep, _always_, as souvenirs of their kindness. + +"And in return, the poor little thing went out with her aunt's maid the +next morning and bought two little keepsakes--a scent-bottle for +Mademoiselle Jeanne, and a fan for Mademoiselle Eliane. She spent on +them all the money she had; and at this very moment," added Dudu, "the +scent-bottle is downstairs in your mother's large old dressing-case, the +dressing-case she got from her grandfather. What became of the fan I +cannot say. + +"Well, the few remaining days passed, and one cold, dreary morning poor +Charlotte clambered over the railings for the last time, to embrace her +friends and bid them farewell. She might have come in by the door and +seen them in the salon; of course neither her aunt nor our young ladies' +mother would have objected to such a thing, as she was going away, even +though no visits of ceremony had been exchanged between the families. +But this would not have suited Charlotte; it was in the garden she had +first seen her friends, and in the garden must she bid them good-bye. I +assisted at the interview," continued Dudu, "and very touching it was. +Had I been of a nature to shed tears, I really think my feelings would +have been too much for me. And Charlotte would have kissed and hugged me +too, no doubt, had I encouraged anything of the kind. But, fortunately +perhaps for the preservation of my feathers and my dignity, I am not, +and never have been, of a demonstrative disposition." + +Dudu cleared his throat and stopped to rest for a moment. Then he +continued-- + +"The parting was over at last, and little Charlotte was away--quite away +over the sea in cold, rainy England. Cold and rainy it must have been +that winter in any case, for it was cold and rainy even here, and many +changes happened, and shadows of strange events were already faintly +darkening the future. It was the next year that our pretty Mademoiselle +Jeanne married and went away with her husband from the old house, which +yet was to be her home, and the home of her children in the end, for +Mademoiselle Eliane never married, and so all came to be inherited by +her sister's sons. But with that we have nothing to do at present. I +wished only to tell you what concerns our young ladies' friendship with +the little stranger. Years went on, as they always do, whether they +leave the world happy or miserable, and the shadows I have told you of +grew darker and darker. Then, at last, the terrible days began--the +storm burst forth, our happy, peaceful home, with hundreds and thousands +of others, was broken up, and its kindly inhabitants forced to flee. +Mademoiselle Jeanne came hurrying up from her husband's home, where +things were even worse than with us, with her boys, to seek for shelter +and safety, which, alas! could not be given her here. For all had to +flee--my poor old master, frail as he was, his delicate wife, our young +ladies, and the boys--all fled together, and after facing perils such as +I trust none of their descendants will ever know, they reached a safe +refuge. And then they had to endure a new misery, for months and months +went by before they had any tidings of poor Mademoiselle Jeanne's +husband, your great-grandfather, my children, who, like all of his +name--a name you may well be proud of, my little Mademoiselle +Jeanne--stayed at the post of danger till every hope was passed. Then at +last, in disguise, he managed to escape, and reached this place in +safety, hoping here to find something to guide him as to where his wife +and children were. But he found nothing--the house was deserted, not a +servant or retainer of any kind left except myself, and what, alas! +could _I_ do? He was worn out and exhausted, poor man; he hid in the +house for a few days, creeping out at dusk in fear and trembling to buy +a loaf of bread, trusting to his disguise and to his not being well +known in the town. But he would have died, I believe, had he been long +left as he was, for distress of mind added to his other miseries, not +knowing anything as to what had become of your great-grandmother and his +children. + +"She was a good wife," continued Dudu, after another little pause. "Our +Mademoiselle Jeanne, I mean. Just when her poor husband was losing heart +altogether, beginning to think they must all be dead, that there was +nothing left for him to do but to die too, she came to him. She had +travelled alone, quite alone, our delicate young lady--who in former +days had scarcely been allowed to set her little foot on the +pavement--from Switzerland to the old home, with a strange belief that +here if anywhere she should find him. And she was rewarded. The worst of +the terrible days were now past, but still disguise was necessary, and +it was in the dress of one of her own peasants--the dress in which she +had fled--that Mademoiselle Jeanne returned. But he knew her--through +all disguises he would have known her--and she him. And the first +evening they were together in the bare, deserted house, even with all +the terrors behind them, the perils before them, the husband and wife +were happy." + +Dudu paused again. The children, too interested to speak, listened +eagerly. + +"Go on, dear Dudu," whispered Jeanne at last, softly. + +"How were they to get away to safety? That was the question," continued +Dudu. "They dared not stay long where they were; yet they dared not go. +Monsieur was far too feeble to stand much fatigue, and the two of them +journeying together might attract notice. + +"'If we could get to the sea,' said Mademoiselle Jeanne--Madame I should +call her, but it never comes naturally--there we might find a ship to +take us to England or Holland, and thence find our way to our dear ones +again.' + +"But Monsieur shook his head. 'Impossible,' he said. 'I have not the +strength for even the four leagues' walk to the sea, and finding a ship +that would take us is a mere chance. We have almost no money. Here at +least we have shelter, and still some sous for bread. Jeanne, my +beloved, you must make up your mind to leave me again--alone and +unhindered you might find your way back in safety.' + +"'I will never leave you,' said Jeanne. 'We will die together, if it +must be so. The boys are safe--my father and mother and Eliane will care +for them. I will never leave you.' + +"And Monsieur said no more; but in his own mind I could see that he +thought himself fast dying, that want of comforts and nourishment much +longer would exhaust his little strength, and that his poor Jeanne +would, in the end, be forced to attempt the journey back alone. They +were sitting at the end of the terrace walk that evening--the end near +little Charlotte's balcony; it was a mild, still evening--it seemed less +dreary and miserable than in the house; from the distance came the sound +of the children playing in the old streets, and near at hand some birds +were singing still--for children will play and birds will sing whatever +happens. Suddenly a sound close at hand made Mademoiselle Jeanne look +up. And I too, for I was close beside them on the terrace, I looked up +in amazement, half imagining it must be a dream. For we heard--both +Mademoiselle Jeanne and I knew it again--the sound of the window on to +the balcony opening, the window through which the little English girl +used to come out to meet her friends. We looked and could scarcely +believe our eyes. Out on to the balcony stepped a young lady, a young +girl rather she seemed, for she was tall and slight and had fair curls +about her sweet fresh face. She stood for one instant looking at us all +as if bewildered, then, with a sudden cry, almost before we knew what +she was doing, she was over the railings and down the bank. + +"'Mademoiselle Jeanne or Mademoiselle Eliane!' she cried, 'which of you +is it? for it is one of you, I know! And you are _not_ dead--not all +dead and gone--and there is Dudu, too. Oh, how glad, how very glad, I am +that I came!' + +"Laughing and crying both at once, she threw herself into Madame's arms, +while Monsieur looked on in amazement. + +"'You know me?' she cried--'your little English Charlotte. See, here is +the bonbonniere,' feeling for it in her pocket as she spoke. 'And you +are Mademoiselle Jeanne. I know you now--if you had twenty peasant caps +on I should know you. But how thin and pale you are, my poor Jeanne! +And is this your husband? I knew you were married. I saw it in the +newspapers ever so many years ago. Do you know it is fifteen years since +I went away? And I am married, too. But tell me first how it is you are +here and dressed like that, and why you look so sad and Monsieur so ill. +Tell me all. You may trust me, you may indeed, and perhaps my husband +and I may be able to be of some use. You may trust me,' seeing that +Madame and her husband looked at each other in bewilderment; 'may they +not, Dudu?' she added, turning to me. 'Tell Mademoiselle Jeanne that she +can indeed trust me.' + +"I flapped my wings and croaked. + +"'You see,' said Charlotte, and at that they all laughed. + +"'It is not that we do not trust you, my dear friend,' said Madame; 'and +indeed you see all in seeing us here as you do. There is nothing to tell +but the same sad story that has been to tell in so many once happy +French homes. But explain to me, my dear Charlotte, how you are here. It +is so strange, so extraordinary.' + +"And Charlotte explained. Her husband was a sailor. To be near him, she +had been in Spain at the outbreak of the revolution, and had remained +there till he was ordered home. Now that the terror was subsiding, there +was--for them, as foreigners--but little risk. She had persuaded her +husband, whose vessel, owing to some slight accident at sea, had been +obliged to put in at the neighbouring port, to let her come to have a +look at the old town, at the old house, or garden rather, she still +loved so dearly. 'The house we used to live in,' she said, 'was empty. I +easily found my way in, and out on to the balcony, as you saw. I had a +sort of wild idea that perhaps I might see or hear something of you. Yet +I was almost afraid to ask, such terrible things have happened,' added +Charlotte, with a shudder. + +"But nothing more terrible was in store for our young ladies, I am glad +to say," continued Dudu. "The faithful-hearted Charlotte and her husband +were able to be of the greatest service to Mademoiselle Jeanne and _her_ +husband. They conveyed them in safety to the port and saw them on board +a friendly vessel, and not many weeks passed before they were again with +their children and the old Monsieur and Madame and Mademoiselle Eliane +in their home for the time in Switzerland." + +"Oh, how glad I am!" exclaimed Jeanne. "I was dreadfully afraid your +story was going to end badly, Dudu." + +"It is not ended yet," said Dudu. + +"Isn't it?" cried Jeanne. "Oh dear, then go on quick, please. I _hope_ +Mademoiselle Jeanne's poor husband----" + +"Your great-grandfather, you mean," corrected Dudu. + +"Oh, well then, my great-grandfather, _our_ great-grandfather, for he +was Cheri's, too, you said. I do so hope he got better. Did he, Dudu?" + +"Yes," said Dudu, "he got better, but never quite well again. However, +he lived some years, long enough to see his boys grown up and to +return--after the death of our old Monsieur and Madame--to return to his +own country with his wife and sister-in-law. But before very long, while +still far from an old man, he died. Then our young ladies, young no +longer, came back, after a time, to their childish home; and here they +lived together quietly, kind and charitable to all, cheered from time to +time by the visits of Madame's two sons, out in the world now and +married, and with homes of their own. And time went on gently and +uneventfully, and gradually Madame's hair became quite, quite white, and +Mademoiselle Eliane took to limping a little in her walk with the +rheumatism, and when they slowly paced up and down the terrace it was +difficult for me to think they were really my pretty young ladies with +the white dresses and blue ribbons of half a century ago. For it was now +just thirty-five years since the last visit of their English friend. She +too, if she were alive, must be a woman of more than sixty. They had +never heard of her again. In the hurry and anxiety of their last meeting +they had forgotten to ask and she to give her exact address, so they +could not write. She might have written to them to the old house +perhaps, on the chance of it finding them; but if so, they had never got +the letter. Yet they often spoke of her, and never saw the balcony at +the end of the terrace without a kindly thought of those long ago days. + +"One evening--an autumn evening--mild and balmy, the two old ladies were +slowly pacing up and down their favourite walk, when a servant came out +to say that they were wanted--a lady was asking for them. But not to +disturb them, he added, the visitor would be glad to see them in the +garden, if they would allow it. Wondering who it could be, Madame and +her sister were hesitating what to do, when a figure was seen +approaching them from the house. + +"'I could not wait,' she said, almost before she reached them. 'I wished +so much to see you once more in the old spot, dear friends;' and they +knew her at once. They recognised in the bowed and worn but still sweet +and lovely woman, their pretty child-friend of fifty years ago. She had +come to bid them farewell, she said. She was on her way to the +south--not to live but to die, for she had suffered much and her days +were numbered. + +"'My dear husband is dead some years ago,' she said. 'But we were very +happy together, which is a blessed thought. And my children--one after +another they faded. So I am an old woman now and quite alone, and I am +glad to go to them all. My friends wished me to go to the south, for I +have always loved the sunshine, and there my little daughter died, and +perhaps death will there come to me in gentler shape. But on my way, I +wished to say good-bye to you, dear friends of long ago, whom I have +always loved, though we have been so little together.' + +"And then they took each other's hands, gently and quietly, the three +old ladies, and softly kissed each other's withered cheeks, down which a +few tears made their way; the time was past for them for anything but +gentle and chastened feelings. And whispering to their old friend not +good-bye, but 'Au revoir, au revoir in a better country,' my ladies +parted once more with their childish friend. + +"She died a few months later; news of her death was sent them. _They_ +lived to be old--past eighty both of them, when they died within a few +days of each other. But I never hobble up and down the terrace walk +without thinking of them," added Dudu, "and on the whole, my dears, even +if I had my choice, I don't think I should care to live another two or +three hundred years in a world where changes come so quickly." + +Hugh and Jeanne were silent for a moment. Then "Thank you, dear Dudu," +they said together. + +And Dudu cocked his head on one side. "There is Marcelline calling you," +he said, in a matter-of-fact tone. "Run downstairs. Take a look at the +beautiful stars overhead before you go. Good-bye, my dears." + +"Good-night, Dudu, and thank you again," said the children, as they +hastened away. + +They found their way back to the tapestry room without difficulty. They +were standing in the middle of the room, half puzzled as to how they had +got there, when Marcelline appeared. + +"We have been with Dudu," they told her, before she had time to ask them +anything. "He has told us lovely stories--nicer even than fairy +adventures." And Marcelline smiled and seemed pleased, but not at all +surprised. + + * * * * * + +"A strange thing has happened," said Jeanne's father the next day. "I +feel quite distressed about it. Old Dudu the raven has disappeared. He +is nowhere to be found since yesterday afternoon, the gardener tells me. +They have looked for him everywhere in vain. I feel quite sorry--he has +been in the family so long--how long indeed I should be afraid to say, +for my father remembered him as a child." + +The children looked at each other. + +"Dudu has gone!" they said softly. + +"We shall have no more stories," whispered Hugh. + +"Nor fairy adventures," said Jeanne. + +"He may come back again," said Hugh. + +"I think not," said Jeanne, shaking her smooth little black head. "Don't +you remember, Cheri, what he said about not wishing to stay here +longer?" + +"And he said 'good-bye,'" added Hugh sadly. "I fear he will not come +back." + +But if he _ever_ does, children dear, and if you care to hear what he +has to tell, you shall not be forgotten, I promise you. + + + +THE END + + + +_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_. + + + + + +Transcriber's notes: + +Title page, closing single quote added to poetry quotation. + +Page 4, period added to end of sentence. "any worse. Not" + +Page 66, word "to" inserted in "Nibble next to the carriage". + +Page 87, period added: "to row. After a time" + +Page 94, single end-quote changed to double end-quote " ...sing +evermore." + +Page 128, opening quote added to "There now, ..." + +Page 137, opening quote added to "And 'don't care;' ..." + +Page 148, opening single quote added to "'but I would fain ...'" + +Page 158, opening quote added to "'She is so courageous ...'" + +Page 165, double end-quote changed to single end-quote "'Have no fear,' +he replied ..." + +Page 168, '" changed to "' in "'I knew not ...'" + +Page 170, closing quote changed to closing single quote "'Go?' said ..." + +Page 170, extraneous ' removed from "She looked ..." + +Page 180, opening ' added. "'Hateful thing!' she ..." + +Page 189, double quotes changed to single quotes 'The crowd is so +great...prettier than you,' + +Page 230, opening quote added to "And Charlotte explained..." + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tapestry Room, by Mrs. Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TAPESTRY ROOM *** + +***** This file should be named 17175.txt or 17175.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/1/7/17175/ + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** + diff --git a/17175.zip b/17175.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..83cb28d --- /dev/null +++ b/17175.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..40bfe47 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #17175 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/17175) |
