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diff --git a/19084.txt b/19084.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9c8d468 --- /dev/null +++ b/19084.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6312 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of In the Yule-Log Glow, Book II, by Various + +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: In the Yule-Log Glow, Book II + Christmas Tales from 'Round the World + +Author: Various + +Editor: Harrison S. Morris + +Release Date: August 20, 2006 [EBook #19084] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE YULE-LOG GLOW, BOOK II *** + + + + +Produced by Paul Ereaut, Jason Isbell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +IN THE YULE-LOG GLOW + +CHRISTMAS TALES FROM 'ROUND THE WORLD + +"Sic as folk tell ower at a winter ingle" + +_Scott_ + +EDITED BY + +HARRISON S. MORRIS + +THREE VOLUMES IN ONE. + +Book II. + +PHILADELPHIA + +J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 1900. + +Copyright, 1891, by J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. + +PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA. + + + + +CONTENTS OF BOOK II + + +CHRISTMAS WITH THE BARON +_By Angelo J. Lewis._ + +A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE +_By Harrison S. Morris._ + +SALVETTE AND BERNADOU +_From the French of Alphonse Daudet._ +_By Harrison S. Morris._ + +THE WOLF TOWER + +THE PEACE EGG +_By Juliana Horatia Ewing._ + +A STORY OF NUREMBERG +_By Agnes Repplier._ + +A PICTURE OF THE NATIVITY BY FRA FILIPPO LIPPI +_By Vernon Lee._ + +MELCHIOR'S DREAM +_By Juliana Horatia Ewing._ + +MR. GRAPEWINE'S CHRISTMAS DINNER +_By Harrison S. Morris._ + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS, BOOK II. + + +THE DAUGHTER OF THE BARON + +THE HOSPITAL + +MUMMERS + +"A HILLY COUNTRY" + + + + + + _A Droll Chapter by a Swiss Gossip._ + + "I here beheld an agreeable old + fellow, forgetting age, and showing + the way to be young at sixty-five." + + _Goldsmith._ + + + + +CHRISTMAS WITH THE BARON. + + +I. + +Once upon a time--fairy tales always begin with once upon a time--once +upon a time there lived in a fine old castle on the Rhine a certain +Baron von Schrochslofsleschshoffinger. You will not find it an easy name +to pronounce; in fact, the baron never tried it himself but once, and +then he was laid up for two days afterwards; so in future we will merely +call him "the baron," for shortness, particularly as he was rather a +dumpy man. + +After having heard his name, you will not be surprised when I tell you +that he was an exceedingly bad character. For a baron, he was considered +enormously rich; a hundred and fifty pounds a year would not be thought +much in this country; but still it will buy a good deal of sausage, +which, with wine grown on the estate, formed the chief sustenance of the +baron and his family. + +Now, you will hardly believe that, notwithstanding he was the possessor +of this princely revenue, the baron was not satisfied, but oppressed +and ground down his unfortunate tenants to the very last penny he could +possibly squeeze out of them. In all his exactions he was seconded and +encouraged by his steward Klootz, an old rascal who took a malicious +pleasure in his master's cruelty, and who chuckled and rubbed his hands +with the greatest apparent enjoyment when any of the poor landholders +could not pay their rent, or afforded him any opportunity for +oppression. + +Not content with making the poor tenants pay double value for the land +they rented, the baron was in the habit of going round every now and +then to their houses and ordering anything he took a fancy to, from a +fat pig to a pretty daughter, to be sent up to the castle. The pretty +daughter was made parlor-maid, but as she had nothing a year, and to +find herself, it wasn't what would be considered by careful mothers an +eligible situation. The fat pig became sausage, of course. + +Things went on from bad to worse, till, at the time of our story, +between the alternate squeezings of the baron and his steward, the poor +tenants had very little left to squeeze out of them. The fat pigs and +pretty daughters had nearly all found their way up to the castle, and +there was little left to take. + +[Illustration: The Daughter of the Baron] + +The only help the poor fellows had was the baron's only daughter, Lady +Bertha, who always had a kind word, and frequently something more +substantial, for them when her father was not in the way. + +Now, I'm not going to describe Bertha, for the simple reason that if I +did you would imagine that she was the fairy I'm going to tell you +about, and she isn't. However, I don't mind giving you a few outlines. + +In the first place, she was exceedingly tiny,--the nicest girls, the +real lovable little pets, always are tiny,--and she had long silken +black hair, and a dear, dimpled little face full of love and mischief. +Now, then, fill up the outline with the details of the nicest and +prettiest girl you know, and you will have a slight idea of her. On +second thoughts, I don't believe you will, for your portrait wouldn't be +half good enough; however, it will be near enough for you. + +Well, the baron's daughter, being all your fancy painted her and a +trifle more, was naturally much distressed at the goings-on of her +unamiable parent, and tried her best to make amends for her father's +harshness. She generally managed that a good many pounds of the sausage +should find their way back to the owners of the original pig; and when +the baron tried to squeeze the hand of the pretty parlor-maid, which he +occasionally did after dinner, Bertha had only to say, in a tone of +mild remonstrance, "Pa!" and he dropped the hand instantly and stared +very hard the other way. + +Bad as this disreputable old baron was, he had a respect for the +goodness and purity of his child. Like the lion tamed by the charm of +Una's innocence, the rough old rascal seemed to lose in her presence +half his rudeness, and, though he used awful language to her sometimes +(I dare say even Una's lion roared occasionally), he was more tractable +with her than with any other living being. Her presence operated as a +moral restraint upon him, which, possibly, was the reason that he never +stayed down-stairs after dinner, but always retired to a favorite +turret, which, I regret to say, he had got so in the way of doing every +afternoon that I believe he would have felt unwell without it. + +The hour of the baron's afternoon symposium was the time selected by +Bertha for her errands of charity. Once he was fairly settled down to +his second bottle, off went Bertha, with her maid beside her carrying a +basket, to bestow a meal on some of the poor tenants, among whom she was +always received with blessings. + +At first these excursions had been undertaken principally from +charitable motives, and Bertha thought herself plentifully repaid in the +love and thanks of her grateful pensioners. + +Of late, however, another cause had led her to take even stronger +interest in her walks, and occasionally to come in with brighter eyes +and a rosier cheek than the gratitude of the poor tenants had been wont +to produce. + +The fact is, some months before the time of our story, Bertha had +noticed in her walks a young artist, who seemed to be fated to be +invariably sketching points of interest in the road she had to take. +There was one particular tree, exactly in the path which led from the +castle-gate, which he had sketched from at least four points of view, +and Bertha began to wonder what there could be so very particular about +it. + +At last, just as Carl von Sempach had begun to consider where on earth +he could sketch the tree from next, and to ponder seriously upon the +feasibility of climbing up into it and taking it from _that_ point of +view, a trifling accident occurred which gave him the opportunity of +making Bertha's acquaintance,--which, I don't mind stating +confidentially, was the very thing he had been waiting for. + +It so chanced that, on one particular afternoon, the maid, either +through awkwardness, or possibly through looking more at the handsome +painter than the ground she was walking on, stumbled and fell. + +Of course, the basket fell, too, and equally of course, Carl, as a +gentleman, could not do less than offer his assistance in picking up the +damsel and the dinner. + +The acquaintance thus commenced was not suffered to drop; and handsome +Carl and our good little Bertha were fairly over head and ears in love, +and had begun to have serious thoughts of a cottage in a wood, _et +caetera_, when their felicity was disturbed by their being accidentally +met, in one of their walks, by the baron. + +Of course the baron, being himself so thorough an aristocrat, had higher +views for his daughter than marrying her to a "beggarly artist," and +accordingly he stamped, and swore, and threatened Carl with summary +punishment with all sorts of weapons, from heavy boots to blunderbusses, +if ever he ventured near the premises again. + +This was unpleasant; but I fear it did not _quite_ put a stop to the +young people's interviews, though it made them less frequent and more +secret than before. + +Now, I am quite aware this was not at all proper, and that no properly +regulated young lady would ever have had meetings with a young man her +papa didn't approve of. + +But then it is just possible Bertha might not have been a properly +regulated young lady. I only know she was a dear little pet, worth +twenty model young ladies, and that she loved Carl very dearly. + +And then consider what a dreadful old tyrant of a papa she had! My dear +girl, it's not the slightest use your looking so provokingly correct; +it's my deliberate belief that if you had been in her shoes (they'd have +been at least three sizes too small for you, but that doesn't matter) +you would have done precisely the same. + +Such was the state of things on Christmas eve in the year----Stay! +fairy tales never have a year to them, so, on second thoughts, I +wouldn't tell the date if I knew,--but I don't. + +Such was the state of things, however, on the particular 24th of +December to which our story refers--only, if anything, rather more so. + +The baron had got up in the morning in an exceedingly bad temper; and +those about him had felt its effects all through the day. + +His two favorite wolf-hounds, Lutzow and Teufel, had received so many +kicks from the baron's heavy boots that they hardly knew at which end +their tails were; and even Klootz himself scarcely dared to approach his +master. + +In the middle of the day two of the principal tenants came to say that +they were unprepared with their rent, and to beg for a little delay. +The poor fellows represented that their families were starving, and +entreated for mercy; but the baron was only too glad that he had at last +found so fair an excuse for venting his ill-humor. + +He loaded the unhappy defaulters with every abusive epithet he could +devise (and being called names in German is no joke, I can tell you); +and, lastly, he swore by everything he could think of that, if their +rent was not paid on the morrow, themselves and their families should be +turned out of doors to sleep on the snow, which was then many inches +deep on the ground. They still continued to beg for mercy, till the +baron became so exasperated that he determined to put them out of the +castle himself. He pursued them for that purpose as far as the outer +door, when fresh fuel was added to his anger. + +Carl, who, as I have hinted, still managed, notwithstanding the paternal +prohibition, to see Bertha occasionally, and had come to wish her a +merry Christmas, chanced at this identical moment to be saying good-bye +at the door, above which, in accordance with immemorial usage, a huge +bush of mistletoe was suspended. What they were doing under it at the +moment of the baron's appearance, I never knew exactly; but his wrath +was tremendous! + +I regret to say that his language was unparliamentary in the extreme. +He swore until he was mauve in the face; and if he had not +providentially been seized with a fit of coughing, and sat down in the +coal-scuttle,--mistaking it for a three-legged stool,--it is impossible +to say to what lengths his feelings might have carried him. + +Carl and Bertha picked him up, rather black behind, but otherwise not +much the worse for his accident. + +In fact, the diversion of his thoughts seemed to have done him good; +for, having sworn a little more, and Carl having left the castle, he +appeared rather better. + + +II. + +After enduring so many and various emotions, it is hardly to be wondered +at that the baron required some consolation; so, after having changed +his trousers, he took himself off to his favorite turret to allay, by +copious potations, the irritations of his mind. + +Bottle after bottle was emptied, and pipe after pipe was filled and +smoked. The fine old Burgundy was gradually getting into the baron's +head; and, altogether, he was beginning to feel more comfortable. + +The shades of the winter afternoon had deepened into the evening +twilight, made dimmer still by the aromatic clouds that came, with +dignified deliberation, from the baron's lips, and curled and floated up +to the carved ceiling of the turret, where they spread themselves into a +dim canopy, which every successive cloud brought lower and lower. + +The fire, which had been piled up mountain-high earlier in the +afternoon, and had flamed and roared to its heart's content ever since, +had now got to that state--the perfection of a fire to a lazy man--when +it requires no poking or attention of any kind, but just burns itself +hollow, and then tumbles in, and blazes jovially for a little time, and +then settles down to a genial glow, and gets hollow, and tumbles in +again. + +The baron's fire was just in this delightful _da capo_ condition, most +favorable of all to the enjoyment of the _dolce far niente_. + +For a little while it would glow and kindle quietly, making strange +faces to itself, and building fantastic castles in the depths of its red +recesses, and then the castles would come down with a crash, and the +faces disappear, and a bright flame spring up and lick lovingly the +sides of the old chimney; and the carved heads of improbable men and +impossible women, hewn so deftly round the panels of the old oak +wardrobe opposite, in which the baron's choicest vintages were +deposited, were lit up by the flickering light, and seemed to nod and +wink at the fire in return, with the familiarity of old acquaintances. + +Some such fancy as this was disporting itself in the baron's brain; and +he was gazing at the old oak carving accordingly, and emitting huge +volumes of smoke with reflective slowness, when a clatter among the +bottles on the table caused him to turn his head to ascertain the cause. + +The baron was by no means a nervous man; however, the sight that met his +eyes when he turned round did take away his presence of mind a little; and +he was obliged to take four distinct puffs before he had sufficiently +regained his equilibrium to inquire, "Who the--Pickwick--are you?" (The +baron said "Dickens," but, as that is a naughty word, we will substitute +"Pickwick," which is equally expressive, and not so wrong.) Let me see; +where was I? Oh, yes! "Who the Pickwick are you?" + +Now, before I allow the baron's visitor to answer the question, perhaps +I had better give a slight description of his personal appearance. + +If this was not a true story, I should have liked to have made him a +model of manly beauty; but a regard for veracity compels me to confess +that he was not what would be generally considered handsome; that is, +not in figure, for his face was by no means unpleasing. + +His body was, in size and shape, not very unlike a huge plum-pudding, +and was clothed in a bright-green, tightly-fitting doublet, with red +holly-berries for buttons. + +His limbs were long and slender in proportion to his stature, which was +not more than three feet or so. + +His head was encircled by a crown of holly and mistletoe. + +The round red berries sparkled amid his hair which was silver-white, and +shone out in cheerful harmony with his rosy, jovial face. And that face! +it would have done one good to look at it. + +In spite of the silver hair, and an occasional wrinkle beneath the +merry, laughing eyes, it seemed brimming over with perpetual youth. The +mouth, well garnished with teeth, white and sound, which seemed as if +they could do ample justice to holiday cheer, was ever open with a +beaming, genial smile, expanding now and then into hearty laughter. Fun +and good-fellowship were in every feature. + +The owner of the face was, at the moment when the baron first perceived +him, comfortably seated upon the top of the large tobacco-jar on the +table, nursing his left leg. + +The baron's somewhat abrupt inquiry did not appear to irritate him; on +the contrary, he seemed rather amused than otherwise. + +"You don't ask prettily, old gentleman," he replied; "but I don't mind +telling you, for all that. I'm King Christmas." + +"Eh?" said the baron. + +"Ah!" said the goblin. Of course, you have guessed he was a goblin? + +"And pray what's your business here?" said the baron. + +"Don't be crusty with a fellow," replied the goblin. "I merely looked in +to wish you the compliments of the season. Talking of crust, by the way, +what sort of a tap is it you're drinking?" So saying, he took up a flask +of the baron's very best and poured out about half a glass. Having held +the glass first on one side and then on the other, winked at it twice, +sniffed it, and gone through the remainder of the pantomime in which +connoisseurs indulge, he drank it with great deliberation, and smacked +his lips scientifically. "Hum! Johannisberg! and not so _very_ bad--for +you. But I tell you what it is, baron, you'll have to bring out better +stuff than this when I put my legs on your mahogany." + +"Well, you are a cool fish," said the baron. "However, you're rather a +joke, so, now you're here, we may as well enjoy ourselves. Smoke?" + +"Not anything you're likely to offer me!" + +"Confound your impudence!" roared the baron, with a horribly +complicated oath. "That tobacco is as good as any in all Rhineland." + +"That's a nasty cough you've got, baron. Don't excite yourself, my dear +boy; I dare say you speak according to your lights. I don't mean +Vesuvians, you know, but your opportunities for knowing anything about +it. Try a weed out of my case, and I expect you'll alter your opinion." + +The baron took the proffered case and selected a cigar. Not a word was +spoken till it was half consumed, when the baron took it, for the first +time, from his lips, and said, gently, with the air of a man +communicating an important discovery in the strictest confidence, "Das +ist gut!" + +"Thought you'd say so," said the visitor. "And now, as you like the +cigar, I should like you to try a thimbleful of what _I_ call wine. I +must warn you, though, that it is rather potent, and may produce effects +you are not accustomed to." + +"Bother that, if it is as good as the weed," said the baron; "I haven't +taken my usual quantity by four bottles yet." + +"Well, don't say I didn't warn you, that's all. I don't think you'll +find it unpleasant, though it is rather strong when you're not +accustomed to it." So saying, the goblin produced from some mysterious +pocket a black, big-bellied bottle, crusted, apparently, with the dust +of ages. + +It did strike the baron as peculiar, that the bottle, when once +produced, appeared nearly as big round as the goblin himself; but he was +not the sort of man to stick at trifles, and he pushed forward his glass +to be filled just as composedly as if the potion had been shipped and +paid duty, in the most commonplace way. + +The glass was filled and emptied, but the baron uttered not his opinion. +Not in words, at least, but he pushed forward his glass to be filled +again in a manner that sufficiently bespoke his approval. + +"Aha! you smile!" said the goblin. And it was a positive fact; the baron +was smiling; a thing he had not been known to do in the memory of the +oldest inhabitant. "That's the stuff to make your hair curl, isn't it?" + +"I believe you, my b-o-o-oy!" The baron brought out this earnest +expression of implicit confidence with true unction. "It warms one +_here_!" + +Knowing the character of the man, one would have expected him to put his +hand upon his stomach. But he didn't; he laid it upon his _heart_. + +"The spell begins to operate, I see," said the goblin. "Have another +glass?" + +The baron had another glass, and another after that. + +The smile on his face expanded into an expression of such geniality that +the whole character of his countenance was changed, and his own mother +wouldn't have known him. I doubt myself--inasmuch as she died when he +was exactly a year and three months old--whether she would have +recognized him under any circumstances; but I merely wish to express +that he was changed almost beyond recognition. + +"Upon my word," said the baron, at length, "I feel so light I almost +think I could dance a hornpipe. I used to, once, I know. Shall I try?" + +"Well, if you ask my advice," replied the goblin, "I should say, +decidedly, don't. 'Barkis is willing,' I dare say, but trousers are +weak, and you might split 'em." + +"Hang it all," said the baron, "so I might. I didn't think of that. But +still I feel as if I must do something juvenile!" + +"Ah! that's the effect of your change of nature," said the goblin. +"Never mind, I'll give you plenty to do presently." + +"Change of nature! What do you mean, you old conundrum?" said the baron. + +"You're another," said the goblin. "But never mind. What I mean is just +this. What you are now feeling is the natural consequence of my magic +wine, which has changed you into a fairy. That's what's the matter, +sir." + +"A fairy! me!" exclaimed the baron. "Get out. I'm too fat." + +"Fat! Oh! that's nothing. We shall put you in regular training, and +you'll soon be slim enough to creep into a lady's stocking. Not that +you'll be called upon to do anything of the sort; but I'm merely giving +you an idea of your future figure." + +"No, no," said the baron; "me thin! that's too ridiculous. Why, that's +worse than being a fairy. You don't mean it, though, do you? I do feel +rather peculiar." + +"I do, indeed," said the visitor. "You don't dislike it, do you?" + +"Well, no, I can't say I do, entirely. It's queer, though, I feel so +uncommon friendly. I feel as if I should like to shake hands or pat +somebody on the back." + +"Ah!" said the goblin, "I know how it is. Rum feeling, when you're not +accustomed to it. But come; finish that glass, for we must be off. We've +got a precious deal to do before morning, I can tell you. Are you +ready?" + +"All right," said the baron. "I'm just in the humor to make a night of +it." + +"Come along, then," said the goblin. + +They proceeded for a short time in silence along the corridors of the +old castle. They carried no candle, but the baron noticed that +everything seemed perfectly light wherever they stood, but relapsed into +darkness as soon as they had passed by. The goblin spoke first. + +"I say, baron, you've been an uncommon old brute in your time, now, +haven't you?" + +"H'm," said the baron, reflectively; "I don't know. Well, yes, I rather +think I have." + +"How jolly miserable you've been making those two young people, you old +sinner! You know who I mean." + +"Eh, what? You know that, too?" said the baron. + +"Know it; of course I do. Why, bless your heart, I know everything, my +dear boy. But you _have_ made yourself an old tyrant in that quarter, +considerably. Ar'n't you blushing, you hard-hearted old monster?" + +"Don't know, I'm sure," said the baron, scratching his nose, as if that +was where he expected to feel it. "I believe I have treated them badly, +though, now I come to think of it." + +At this moment they reached the door of Bertha's chamber The door opened +of itself at their approach. + +"Come along," said the goblin; "you won't wake her. Now, old +flinty-heart, look there." + +The sight that met the baron's view was one that few fathers could have +beheld without affectionate emotion. Under ordinary circumstances, +however, the baron would not have felt at all sentimental on the +subject, but to-night something made him view things in quite a +different light. + +I shouldn't like to make affidavit of the fact, but it's my positive +impression that he sighed. + +Now, my dear reader, don't imagine I'm going to indulge your impertinent +curiosity with an elaborate description of the sacred details of a +lady's sleeping apartment. _You're_ not a fairy, you know, and I don't +see that it can possibly matter to you whether fair Bertha's dainty +little bottines were tidily placed on a chair by her bedside, or thrown +carelessly, as they had been taken off, upon the hearth-rug, where her +favorite spaniel reposed, warming his nose in his sleep before the last +smouldering embers of the decaying fire; or whether her crinoline--but +if she did wear a crinoline, what can that possibly matter to you? + +All I shall tell you is, that everything looked snug and comfortable; +but, somehow, any place got that look when Bertha was in it. + +And now a word about the jewel in the casket--pet Bertha herself. +Really, I'm at a loss to describe her. How do you look when you're +asleep?--Well, it wasn't like _that_; not a bit! Fancy a sweet girl's +face, the cheek faintly flushed with a soft, warm tint, like the blush +in the heart of the opening rose, and made brighter by the contrast of +the snowy pillow on which it rested; dark silken hair, curling and +clustering lovingly over the tiniest of tiny ears, and the softest, +whitest neck that ever mortal maiden was blessed with; long silken +eyelashes, fringing lids only less beautiful than the dear earnest eyes +they cover. Fancy all this, and fancy, too, if you can, the expression +of perfect goodness and purity that lit up the sweet features of the +slumbering maiden with a beauty almost angelic, and you will see what +the baron saw that night. Not quite all, however, for the baron's vision +paused not at the bedside before him, but had passed on from the face of +the sleeping maiden to another face as lovely, that of the young wife, +Bertha's mother, who had, years before, taken her angel beauty to the +angels. + +The goblin spoke to the baron's thought. "Wonderfully like her, is she +not, baron?" The baron slowly inclined his head. + +"You made her very happy, didn't you?" + +The tone in which the goblin spoke was harsh and mocking. + +"A faithful husband, tender and true! She must have been a happy wife, +eh, baron?" + +The baron's head had sunk upon his bosom. Old recollections were +thronging into his awakened memory. Solemn vows to love and cherish +somewhat strangely kept. Memories of bitter words and savage oaths +showered at a quiet and uncomplaining figure, without one word in reply. +And, last, the memory of a fit of drunken passion, and a hasty blow +struck with a heavy hand. And then of three months of fading away; and +last, of her last prayer--for her baby and him. + +"A good husband makes a good father, baron. No wonder you are somewhat +chary of rashly intrusting to a suitor the happiness of a sweet flower +like this. Poor child! it is hard, though, that she must think no more +of him she loves so dearly. See! she is weeping even in her dreams. But +you have good reasons, no doubt. Young Carl is wild, perhaps, or drinks, +or gambles, eh? What! none of these? Perhaps he is wayward and +uncertain; and you fear that the honeyed words of courtship might turn +to bitter sayings in matrimony. They do, sometimes, eh, baron? By all +means guard her from such a fate as that. Poor, tender flower! Or who +knows, worse than that, baron! Hard words break no bones, they say, but +angry men are quick, and a blow is soon struck, eh?" + +The goblin had drawn nearer and nearer, and laid his hand upon the +baron's arm, and the last words were literally hissed into his ears. + +The baron's frame swayed to and fro under the violence of his emotion. +At last, with a cry of agony, he dashed his hands upon his forehead. The +veins were swollen up like thick cords, and his voice was almost +inarticulate in its unnatural hoarseness. + +"Tortures! release me! Let me go, let me go and do something to forget +the past, or I shall go mad and die!" + +He rushed out of the room and paced wildly down the corridor, the goblin +following him. At last, as they came near the outer door of the castle, +which opened of itself as they reached it, the spirit spoke: + +"This way, baron, this way. I told you there was work for us to do +before morning, you know." + +"Work!" exclaimed the baron, absently, passing his fingers through his +tangled hair; "oh! yes, work! the harder the better; anything to make me +forget." + +The two stepped out into the court-yard, and the baron shivered, though, +as it seemed, unconsciously, at the breath of the frosty midnight air. +The snow lay deep on the ground, and the baron's heavy boots sank into +it with a crisp, crushing sound at every tread. + +He was bareheaded, but seemed unconscious of the fact, and tramped on, +as if utterly indifferent to anything but his own thoughts. At last, as +a blast of the night wind, keener than ordinary, swept over him, he +seemed for the first time to feel the chill. His teeth chattered, and he +muttered, "Cold, very cold." + +"Ay, baron," said the goblin, "it is cold even to us, who are healthy +and strong, and warmed with wine. Colder still, though, to those who are +hungry and half-naked, and have to sleep on the snow." + +"Sleep? snow?" said the baron. "Who sleeps on the snow? Why, I wouldn't +let my dogs be out on such a night as this." + +"Your dogs, no!" said the goblin; "I spoke of meaner animals--your +wretched tenants. Did you not order, yesterday, that Wilhelm and +Friedrich, if they did not pay their rent to-morrow, should be turned +out to sleep on the snow? A snug bed for the little ones, and a nice +white coverlet, eh? Ha! ha! twenty florins or so is no great matter, is +it? I'm afraid their chance is small; nevertheless, come and see." + +The baron hung his head. A few minutes brought him to the first of the +poor dwellings, which they entered noiselessly. The fireless grate, the +carpetless floor, the broken window-panes, all gave sufficient testimony +to the want and misery of the occupants. In one corner lay sleeping a +man, a woman, and three children, and nestling to each other for the +warmth which their ragged coverlet could afford. In the man, the baron +recognized his tenant Wilhelm, one of those who had been with him to beg +for indulgence on the previous day. + +The keen features, and bones almost starting through the pallid skin, +showed how heavily the hand of hunger had been laid upon all. + +The cold night wind moaned and whistled through the many flaws in the +ill-glazed, ill-thatched tenement, and rustled over the sleepers, who +shivered even in their sleep. + +"Ha, baron!" said the goblin, "death is breathing in their faces even +now, you see; it is hardly worth while to lay them to sleep in the snow, +is it? They would sleep a little sounder, that's all." + +The baron shuddered, and then, hastily pulling the warm coat from his +own shoulders, he spread it over the sleepers. + +"Oho!" said the goblin; "bravely done, baron! By all means keep them +warm to-night; they enjoy the snow more to-morrow, you know." + +Strange to say, the baron, instead of feeling chilled when he had +removed his coat, felt a strange glow of warmth spread from the region +of the heart over his entire frame. The goblin's continual allusions to +his former intention, which he had by this time totally relinquished, +hurt him, and he said, rather pathetically,-- + +"Don't talk of that again, good goblin. I'd rather sleep on the snow +myself." + +"Eh! what?" said the goblin; "you don't mean to say you're sorry? Then +what do you say to making these poor people comfortable?" + +"With all my heart," said the baron, "if we had only anything to do it +with." + +"You leave that to me," said the goblin. "Your brother fairies are not +far off, you may be sure." + +As he spoke he clapped his hands thrice, and before the third clap had +died away the poor cottage was swarming with tiny figures, whom the +baron rightly conjectured to be the fairies themselves. + +Now, you may not be aware (the baron was not, until that night) that +there are among the fairies trades and professions, just as with +ordinary mortals. + +However, there they were, each with the accompaniments of his or her +particular business, and to it they went manfully. A fairy glazier put +in new panes to the shattered windows, fairy carpenters replaced the +doors upon their hinges, and fairy painters, with inconceivable +celerity, made cupboards and closets as fresh as paint could make them; +one fairy housemaid laid and lit a roaring fire, while another dusted +and rubbed chairs and tables to a miraculous degree of brightness; a +fairy butler uncorked bottles of fairy wine, and a fairy cook laid out a +repast of most tempting appearance. + +The baron, hearing a tapping above him, cast his eyes upward, and beheld +a fairy slater rapidly repairing a hole in the roof; and when he bent +them down again they fell on a fairy doctor mixing a cordial for the +sleepers. Nay, there was even a fairy parson, who, not having any +present employment, contented himself with rubbing his hands and looking +pleasant, probably waiting till somebody might want to be christened or +married. + +Every trade, every profession or occupation appeared, without exception, +to be represented; nay, we beg pardon, with one exception only, for the +baron used to say, when afterwards relating his experiences to bachelor +friends,-- + +"You may believe me or not, sir, there was every mortal business under +the sun, _but deil a bit of a lawyer_." + +The baron could not long remain inactive. He was rapidly seized with a +violent desire to do something to help, which manifested itself in +insane attempts to assist everybody at once. At last, after having taken +all the skin off his knuckles in attempting to hammer in nails in aid of +the carpenter, and then nearly tumbling over a fairy housemaid, whose +broom he was offering to carry, he gave it up as a bad job, and stood +aside with his friend the goblin. + +He was just about to inquire how it was that the poor occupants of the +house were not awakened by so much din, when a fairy Sam Slick, who had +been examining the cottager's old clock with a view to a thorough +repair, touched some spring within it, and it made the usual purr +preparatory to striking. When, lo! and behold, at the very first stroke, +cottage, goblin, fairies, and all disappeared into utter darkness, and +the baron found himself in his turret-chamber, rubbing his toe, which he +had just hit with considerable force against the fender. As he was only +in his slippers, the concussion was unpleasant, and the baron rubbed his +toe for a good while. + +After he had finished with his toe he rubbed his nose, and, finally, +with a countenance of deep reflection, scratched the bump of something +or other at the top of his head. + +The old clock on the stairs was striking three, and the fire had gone +out. + +The baron reflected for a short time longer, and finally decided that he +had better go to bed, which he did accordingly. + + +III. + +The morning dawned upon the very ideal, as far as weather was concerned, +of a Christmas-day. A bright winter sun shone out just vividly enough to +make everything look genial and pleasant, and yet not with sufficient +warmth to mar the pure, unbroken surface of the crisp, white snow, which +lay like a never-ending white lawn upon the ground, and glittered in +myriad silver flakes upon the leaves of the sturdy evergreens. + +I am afraid the baron had not had a very good night; at any rate, I know +that he was wide-awake at an hour long before his usual time of rising. + +He lay first on one side, and then on the other, and then, by way of +variety, turned on his back, with his magenta nose pointing +perpendicularly towards the ceiling; but it was all of no use. Do what +he would, he couldn't get to sleep, and at last, not long after +daybreak, he tumbled out of bed and proceeded to dress. + +Even after he was out of bed his fidgetiness continued. It did not +strike him, until after he had got one boot on, that it would be a more +natural proceeding to put his stockings on first; after which he caught +himself in the act of trying to put his trousers on over his head. + +In a word, the baron's mind was evidently preoccupied; his whole air was +that of a man who felt a strong impulse to do something or other, but +could not quite make up his mind to it. + +At last, however, the good impulse conquered, and this wicked old baron, +in the stillness of the calm, bright Christmas morning, went down upon +his knees and prayed. + +Stiff were his knees and slow his tongue, for neither had done such work +for many a long day past; but I have read in the Book of the joy of +angels over a repenting sinner. + +There needs not much eloquence to pray the publican's prayer, and who +shall say but there was gladness in heaven that Christmas morning? + +The baron's appearance down-stairs at such an early hour occasioned +quite a commotion. Nor were the domestics reassured when the baron +ordered a bullock to be killed and jointed instantly, and all the +available provisions in the larder, including sausage, to be packed up +in baskets, with a good store of his own peculiar wine. + +One ancient retainer was heard to declare, with much pathos, that he +feared master had gone insane. + +However, insane or not, they knew the baron must be obeyed, and in an +exceedingly short space of time he sallied forth, accompanied by three +servants carrying the baskets, and wondering what in the name of fortune +their master would do next. + +He stopped at the cottage of Wilhelm, which he had visited with the +goblin on the previous night. The labors of the fairies did not seem to +have produced much lasting benefit, for the appearance of everything +around was as wretched as could be. + +The poor family thought that the baron had come himself to turn them out +of house and home; and the children huddled up timidly to their mother +for protection, while the father attempted some words of entreaty for +mercy. + +The pale, pinched features of the group, and their looks of dread and +wretchedness, were too much for the baron. + +"Eh! what! what do you mean, confound you? Turn you out? Of course not: +I've brought you some breakfast. Here! Fritz--Carl; where are the +knaves? Now, then, unpack, and don't be a week about it. Can't you see +the people are hungry, ye villains? Here, lend me the corkscrew." + +This last being a tool the baron was tolerably accustomed to, he had +better success than with those of the fairy carpenters; and it was not +long before the poor tenants were seated before a roaring fire, and +doing justice, with the appetite of starvation, to a substantial +breakfast. + +The baron felt a queer sensation in his throat at the sight of the poor +people's enjoyment, and had passed the back of his hand twice across his +eyes when he thought no one was looking; but his emotion fairly rose to +boiling when the poor father, Wilhelm, with tears in his eyes, and about +a quarter of a pound of beef in his mouth, sprang up from the table and +flung himself at the baron's knees, invoking blessings on him for his +goodness. + +"Get up, you audacious scoundrel!" roared the baron. "What the deuce do +you mean by such conduct, eh? confound you!" + +At this moment the door opened, and in walked Mynheer Klootz, who had +heard nothing of the baron's change of intentions, and who, seeing +Wilhelm at the baron's feet, and hearing the latter speaking, as he +thought, in an angry tone, at once jumped to the conclusion that Wilhelm +was entreating for longer indulgence. He rushed at the unfortunate man +and collared him. "Not if _we_ know it," exclaimed he; "you'll have the +wolves for bedfellows to-night, I reckon. Come along, my fine fellow." +As he spoke he turned his back towards the baron, with the intention of +dragging his victim to the door. + +The baron's little gray eyes twinkled, and his whole frame quivered with +suppressed emotion, which, after the lapse of a moment, vented itself in +a kick, and such a kick! Not one of your _Varsovianna_ flourishes, but a +kick that employed every muscle from hip to toe, and drove the worthy +steward up against the door like a ball from a catapult. + +Misfortunes never come singly, and so Mynheer Klootz found with regard +to the kick, for it was followed, without loss of time, by several dozen +others, as like it as possible, from the baron's heavy boots. + +Wounded lions proverbially come badly off, and Fritz and Carl, who had +suffered from many an act of petty tyranny on the part of the steward, +thought they could not do better than follow their master's example, +which they did to such good purpose, that when the unfortunate Klootz +did escape from the cottage at last, I don't believe he could have had +any _os sacrum_ left. + +After having executed this little act of poetical justice, the baron and +his servants visited the other cottages, in all of which they were +received with dread and dismissed with blessings. + +Having completed his tour of charity, the baron returned home to +breakfast, feeling more really contented than he had done for many a +long year. He found Bertha, who had not risen when he started, in a +considerable state of anxiety as to what he could possibly have been +doing. In answer to her inquiries, he told her, with a roughness he was +far from feeling, to "mind her own affairs." + +The gentle eyes filled with tears at the harshness of the reply; +perceiving which, the baron was beyond measure distressed, and chucked +her under the chin in what was meant to be a very conciliatory manner. + +"Eh! what, my pretty, tears? No, surely. Bertha must forgive her old +father. I didn't mean it, you know, my pet; and yet, on second thoughts, +yes, I did, too." Bertha's face was overcast again. "My little girl +thinks she has no business anywhere, eh! Is that it? Well, then, my pet, +suppose you make it your business to write a note to young Carl von +Sempach, and say I'm afraid I was rather rude to him yesterday, but if +he'll overlook it, and come take a snug family dinner and a slice of +the pudding with us to-day----" + +"Why, pa, you don't mean--yes, I do really believe you do----" + +The baron's eyes were winking nineteen to the dozen. + +"Why, you dear, dear, dear old pa!" and at the imminent risk of +upsetting the breakfast table, Bertha rushed at the baron, and flinging +two soft white arms about his neck, kissed him--oh! how she _did_ kiss +him! I shouldn't have thought, myself, she could possibly have had any +left for Carl; but I dare say Bertha attended to his interests in that +respect somehow. + + +IV. + +Well, Carl came to dinner, and the baron was, not very many years after, +promoted to the dignity of a grandpapa, and a very jolly old grandpapa +he made. + +Is that all you wanted to know? About Klootz? Well, Klootz got over the +kicking, but he was dismissed from the baron's service; and on +examination of his accounts it was discovered that he had been in the +habit of robbing the baron of nearly a third of his yearly income, which +he had to refund; and with the money he was thus compelled to disgorge, +the baron built new cottages for his tenants, and new-stocked their +farms. Nor was he poorer in the end, for his tenants worked with the +energy of gratitude, and he was soon many times richer than when the +goblin visited him on that Christmas eve. + +And was the goblin ever explained? Certainly not. How dare you have the +impertinence to suppose such a thing? + +An empty bottle, covered with cobwebs, was found the next morning in the +turret-chamber, which the baron at first imagined must be the bottle +from which the goblin produced his magic wine; but as it was found, on +examination, to be labelled "Old Jamaica Rum," of course that could not +have had anything to do with it. However it was, the baron never +thoroughly enjoyed any other wine after it, and as he did not +thenceforth get intoxicated, on an average, more than two nights a week, +or swear more than eight oaths a day, I think King Christmas may be +considered to have thoroughly reformed him. + +And he always maintained, to the day of his death, that he was changed +into a fairy, and became exceedingly angry if contradicted. + +Who doesn't believe in fairies after this? I only hope King Christmas +may make a few more good fairies this year, to brighten the homes of +the poor with the light of Christmas charity. + +Truly, we need not look far for alms-men. Cold and hunger, disease and +death, are around us at all times; but at no time do they press more +heavily on the poor than at this jovial Christmas season. + +Shall we shut out, in our mirth and jollity, the cry of the hungry poor? +or shall we not rather remember, in the midst of our happy family +circles, round our well-filled tables and before our blazing fires, that +our brothers are starving out in the cold, and that the Christmas song +of the angels was "Good-will to men"? + + + + + _The Spaniard's Episode._ + + + "He was a pleasant-looking fellow, + with huge black whiskers + and a roguish eye. He touched + the guitar with masterly skill, + and sang little amorous ditties + with an expressive leer." + + _Irving._ + + + + +A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE. + + +You have never heard of Alcala? Well, it is a little village nestling +between the Spanish hills, a league from great Madrid. There is a ring +of stone houses, each with its white-walled patio and grated windows; +each with its balcony, whence now and then a laughing face looks down +upon the traveller. There is an ancient inn by the roadside, a time-worn +church, and above, on the hill-top, against the still blue sky, the +castle, dusky with age, but still keeping a feudal dignity, though half +its yellow walls have crumbled away. + +This is the Alcala into which I jogged one winter evening in search of +rest and entertainment after a long day's journey on mule-back. + +The inn was in a doze when my footsteps broke the silence of its stone +court-yard; but presently a woman came through an inner door to answer +my summons, and I was speedily cast under the quiet spell of the place +by finding myself behind a screen of leaves, with a straw-covered +bottle at my elbow and a cold fowl within comfortable reach. + +The bower where I sat was unlighted save by the waning sun, and I could +see but little of its long vista, without neglecting a very imperious +appetite. The lattice was covered, I thought, with vine-leaves, and I +felt sure, too, that some orange boughs, reaching across the patio wall, +mingled with the foliage above my head. But all I was certain of was the +relish of the fowl and the delicious refreshment of the cool wine. +Having finished these, I lay back in my chair, luxuriating in the sense +of healthy fatigue, and going over again, in fancy, the rolling roads of +my journey. + +I believe I, also, fell into the prevailing slumber of the place, lulled +by the soft atmosphere and gentle wine, and might have slept there till +morning had a furious sneeze not awakened me with a start. I looked +confusedly about in the dusk, but could see nothing save, at last, the +tip of a lighted cigarette in the remote depths of the bower. I called +out,-- + +"Who's there?" and was answered, courteously, by a deep, gruff voice in +Spanish,-- + +"It is I, senor, Jose Rosado." + +"Are you a guest of 'La Fonda'?" said I, for I had learned that this was +the name of the inn, and was a little doubtful whether I had fallen +into the hands of friend or foe. + +"Ha! ha! ha!" with a long explosion of guttural sounds, was my only +answer. Then, after a brightening of the cigarette-fire, to denote that +the smoker was puffing it into life, he said,-- + +"I, senor, am the host." + +At this I drew my chair closer, and found, in the thin reflection of the +cigarette, a round, bronzed face beaming with smiles and picturing easy +good health. + +It was winter in Spain, but the scent of flowers was abroad, and the +soft, far-off stars twinkled through the moving leaves. What wonder, +then, that we fell into talk,--I, the inquiring traveller, he, the +arch-gossip of Alcala,--and talked till the moon rose high into the +night? + +"And who lives in the castle on the hill?" I asked, after hearing the +private history of half the town. + +"Ah," said mine host, as if preparing to swallow a savory morsel, +"there's a bit of gossip; there's a story, indeed!" He puffed away for a +minute in mute satisfaction, and then began. + +"That is a noble family, the Aranjuez. None can remember in Alcala when +there was not a noble Aranjuez living in its castle, and they have led +our people bravely in all the wars of Spain. I remember as a boy----" + +But, having become acquainted with mine host's loquacity, I broke in +with a question more to the point,-- + +"Who, Senor Jose, lives in the castle now?" + +He would have answered without a suspicion of my ruse, had not a bell +just then rung solemnly forth, awakening the still night, and arousing +Jose Rosado from his comfortable bench, promptly to his feet. + +"Come," he said; "that is for the Christmas Mass. I will tell you as we +go." + +The little inn was lively enough as we emerged from the bower and +crossed the court-yard towards the road. The woman who had prepared my +supper came forth arrayed in a capulet of white and scarlet, and two +younger girls who accompanied her wore veils and long, black robes which +fell about their forms like Oriental garments. Two or three men, +attendants and hostlers of the place, were also about to start, trigged +out in queer little capes and high-crowned hats. All this fine apparel, +mine host informed me, was peculiar to Christmas, and I soon found the +highway full of peasants in similar garb. + +As we got off, Jose Rosado resumed his story, which was brief enough to +beguile us just to the church-door. + +"You ask me, senor, who lives in the castle now? The Donna Isabella is +alone there, now, the only survivor of the noble race, except--except +senor," (he laid a peculiar emphasis on the word,) "except a wilful son, +whom she has disowned and driven from her house. He is a handsome lad, +and married, here in Alcala, the beauty of the town, in spite of his +mother's wounded pride. It was a love-match of stolen wooing and secret +wedding,--but, ha! ha! _we_ saw it all, knew it all, before even they +did themselves. Many an evening have I met them on these roads, billing +and cooing like the doves on La Fonda's eaves. They were made by nature +for each other, though, and even the rage of the proud Donna Isabella +could never part them." + +"And do they still live in the town?" I asked. + +"Oh, yes," said Jose; "over there in the white house where the olive +trees are, at the bottom of the long hill." + +I looked in the direction whither he pointed, but I could see little in +the dim moonlight save a white wall amid dense shadows. + +"And is Donna Isabella a very old lady?" I asked, because very old +ladies are often charged with peculiar severity to very young ones. + +"No, no, no," said Jose Rosado, with a quick turn of the head to each +no. "She's a widow lady of middle age; very proud and very handsome. You +shall see her presently, for she has consented to take part in the +Christmas play at the church." + +As I had come a long journey to see this same Christmas play, my +expectation was doubly aroused as we approached the old edifice, whose +open belfry and rows of cloisters stood before us at the top of the hill +we were ascending. + +As we entered, the bells stopped ringing, for it was precisely midnight, +and the priest at the altar began to say the Christmas Masses. When he +had reached the Gospel, he was interrupted by the appearance of a +matron, dressed all in white, who stood at the end of the nave. She was +clad like the Madonna, and was accompanied by Joseph, who wore the garb +of a mountaineer, with a hatchet in his hand. An officious little +officer with a halberd opened the way through the crowd before these +personages, and they came solemnly up the aisle towards the chancel, +which had been arrayed to represent Bethlehem, the Madonna reciting, as +she moved forward, a plaintive song about her homelessness. Joseph +replied cheeringly, and led her under a roof of leaves in the sanctuary, +formed in the manner of a stable, in which we could see the manger +against the wall. Here she took rest from her journey, while a little +crib, wherein lay the Bambino--or waxen image of the Babe--all adorned +with ribbons and laces, was brought from the sacristy and placed in the +straw at her feet. + +As the Madonna passed us, Jose Rosado nudged me, and whispered audibly +enough to make the crowd about us turn and stare,-- + +"Hist! here's the Donna Isabella, senor! She looks like a saint +to-night!" + +I watched her closely as she went by me, and marked, under the meek +expression assumed by the Virgin, a more characteristic one of severe +resolution. She was, however, a queenly woman, in the ripest stage of +maturity, but she bore herself, in the part she had taken, with a +matronly grace something too conscious for the lowly Mary. + +As she seated herself on the heap of straw, a little boy in a surplice, +representing an angel, with wings of crimped lawn at his shoulders, was +raised in a chair, by a cord and pulley, to the very top of the +sanctuary arch, where he sang a carol to the shepherds,-- + + "Shepherds, hasten all + With flying feet from your retreat; + On rustic pipes now play + Your sweetest, sweetest lay; + +for"--so ran the song--"Mary and the King of Heaven are in yonder cave." + +At this, an orchestra, concealed behind the high altar, set up a tooting +from bagpipes, and flute, and violin, which served as a prelude to the +appearance of the shepherds, who were concealed in the gallery. + +Up they got, with long cloaks and crooked staffs, murmuring their +surprise and incredulity at what the angel had said; some pretending to +grumble at being awakened from sleep, others anxious to prove the truth +of the strange tidings. + +Then the angel sang a more appealing ditty still, whereat they were all +about ready to advance, when one of their number, of a sceptical turn, +urged them to avoid such fanciful matters and give heed to their sheep, +who would otherwise become the prey of the wolf. + +Hereupon, an old shepherd appeared, who gave three loud knocks with his +crook, and denounced those who should disobey the heavenly messenger. +The practical man was thus silenced, and they expressed their +willingness to go to the manger,--and at the same moment an angel +appeared to guide them thither. + +They descended from the gallery to the outer porch of the church and +knocked loudly at the door, saying, as if to the innkeeper at +Bethlehem: + + "Pray, good master of the inn, + Open the door and let us in." + +But Joseph became alarmed at the approach of such a number of rustics, +and inquired who they were. They held a songful colloquy with him; but +he continued to refuse them admittance, until an angel again intervened, +this time in the form of a tall acolyte from the sanctuary, accompanied +by two little angelic choristers. He reassured Joseph, and invited the +shepherds to enter and worship the Babe. They came up the aisle +flourishing their be-ribboned crooks and singing in praise of the Child, +but they were sorely vexed, when they saw the stable, that so humble a +place had been found for His shelter. Joseph explained, in several +couplets, that no other house would receive them, and the shepherds +replied in several others, mingling sympathy and good advice, intended +not for Joseph, but for the throng, who listened in religious awe. + +After paying due homage to the child and Mary, the shepherds exchanged +some more verses with Joseph, and then retired to the other end of the +church, singing in chorus as they went. + +All these ceremonies had so claimed my attention that I had given +scarcely any heed to the Virgin. She was seated humbly in the straw +beside the little crib, in which still nestled the Bambino, and, with +eyes cast down in maternal thoughtfulness, she was a lovely object there +beneath the roof of the leafy stable. She did not appear to notice the +actors in the drama; and now, when three young girls, in gayest holiday +attire, came forward with distaffs that streamed with bright ribbons, +and knelt before her, she reached forth a hand as if to bless them, but +kept her eyes turned meekly upon the ground. + +As these three girls retired from the manger, another and larger band +appeared beneath the gallery opposite the shepherds, singing in sweet +voices a salutation to the three who had just left the chancel. These +made answer that they had come from the stable where the Saviour was +born; and so, in alternate questions and answers, they described all +that they had seen. The two groups, having advanced a step or two at +each stanza, now met, and went back to the manger together, singing the +same air the shepherds had previously sung. + +When they arrived at the stable they made their offering, setting up a +tent the while, ornamented with plenteous ribbons and flowers, among +which blackbirds, thrushes, turtle-doves and partridges fluttered about +at the ends of cords to which they were fastened. They brought with +them, also, bunches of purple grapes and strings of yellow apples, +chaplets of dried prunes and heaps of walnuts and chestnuts. After +arranging these rustic offerings, the shepherdesses returned, singing in +chorus as they went: + + "In Bethlehem, at midnight, + The Virgin mother bore her child. + This world contains no fairer sight + Than this fair Babe and Mary mild. + Well may we sing at sight like this, + _Gloria in Excelsis_." + +I now had another unobstructed view of Donna Isabella, and Jose Rosado's +gossip, intensified by her romantic appearance as the Virgin, had given +me a deep interest in her every movement. + +She reached down into the little crib to lift out the Bambino, and I +could plainly see a look of astonishment rise to her face as she started +back, both hands held wide apart, as if having encountered something +they were unprepared to touch. Then she turned hurriedly to Joseph and +whispered a word in his ear, whereupon he too bent with surprise over +the little crib. After gazing at it a moment, he reached down and lifted +out, not the waxen Bambino, but a sweet young baby that smiled and +reached its tiny arms from Joseph towards the white Virgin. + +Donna Isabella was visibly affected at this, and took the tender infant +into her arms, caressing and soothing it, while it fondled her face and +white head-dress. + +The audience had now become aware that, instead of the waxen image in +the crib, there had been found a living baby, and the impetuous and +susceptible minds of the Spanish peasants had jumped at the conclusion +that they had witnessed a new miracle. They crowded up to the manger, +telling their beads and murmuring prayers, while they pushed and jostled +each other madly for a glimpse of the holy infant. + +One of the acolytes reached his arms forth to take it from Donna +Isabella and bring it to the chancel rail for the crowd to see, but she +held it more closely to her bosom, and refused to let it go from her. As +she stood there, a tall and stately figure, folded in the white gown of +the Virgin and wearing the close head-dress which concealed all save her +splendid face, she seemed the creation of some old painter, and the +curious crowd of peasants was hushed into admiration by her beauty and +her tenderness for the child. She, too, became a part of the strange +miracle. The infant Christ had been born anew among them, and lay there +in his very mother's arms, an object of mystery and worship. As the +silence of wonder ensued, Donna Isabella seemed to collect her startled +senses, and looked around her as if expecting the mother of the child to +come and claim it. A woman of her resolution was not to be hurried into +superstitious follies by some pretty trick or accident. But the little +one lay so softly in her arms and reached with such tiny, appealing +fingers at her throat, that she began to feel a motherly fondness for +it. And, moreover, had it not been sent her, who was alone now in the +great castle on the hill, as a mysterious gift of Providence? Ought she +not to feel it a sacred charge, coming as it did, from the very manger, +to her arms? + +Thus thinking, the Donna Isabella came slowly to the chancel rail, and, +holding forth the infant at arms' length, she said: + +"Good people of Alcala, my part in the Christmas play is done. The good +Lord has sent me this little one to take care of; and here, before you +all, I accept the charge and promise to cherish and love it. If any of +you know its mother, say that the Donna Isabella has carried it to the +castle of Aranjuez, and tell her to follow it there, for where her child +is, there the mother should be also." This broke the spell. The silent +crowd fell into murmurs and gestures, and each one asked his neighbor +where the child belonged. There was no longer any doubt. It was merely a +human child; but the mystery of the manger surrounded it with a hallowed +interest, and everybody was eager to discover its parents and bear them +the good news of its adoption by the great lady. + +Now, Jose Rosado was too old a hand, too jolly a host, to be long +deceived. He whispered me his views as we stood near the leafy stable, +and they were to the effect that the wayward son of the Aranjuez knew +more about the child in the manger than any one else thereabouts. + +And Jose was right; for, before the bustle of inquiry had quite died +away, from out the sacristy door came a young girl wearing a veil and +dressed in the long black gown of the Christmas ceremonies. She walked +demurely through the crowd, which parted for her with inquiring looks, +and, going straight up to the chancel, dropped on her knees before the +Donna Isabella. She held down her head and made no motion; but all knew +instinctively that she was the mother of the child. + +The noble Virgin stooped and raised her head with a loving compassion. +She put aside her veil and moved as if to kiss her, but one look at the +mother's face turned her kindness into rage. She cried, "What, you?" and +overwhelmed at the discovery sank down on the straw of the stable, +clasping the child with a firmer hold, as if to shield it from a foe. + +It was a sore conflict for an unyielding will like that of the Donna +Isabella; but the part she had played in the sacred ceremonies and the +surrounding emblems of peace and good-will were softening influences. +More potent even than these was the persuasive contact of the little +hands which opened and shut in playful touches at her throat. I could +see from the varying expressions of her face that she questioned +herself. Should she yield? The pride of birth, the disobedience of a +youthful son to a mother of her indulgent nature, the stigma of a low +connection upon a noble family name--all these things pleaded urgently, +No. She looked up vindictively at the gaping congregation, which seemed +spellbound in wanton curiosity, wherewith was mingled not a little +religious dread. And then, again, she turned her eyes down upon the +innocent face beside her bosom, so guileless, to be the cause of such +varying passions in the throng about it. No, she could not give it up. +All the old maternal instincts were aroused in her, and the firmness of +her will was redoubled by the sentiment of love for her grandchild. Was +it not her son's child, then, as well as this woman's? Surely, she had a +right to keep it, and, glancing up with this last plea for possession +on her lips, she saw beside the kneeling wife a new figure, whose +presence made her pause and falter. + +Only for an instant, however, for a kindlier light came into her clear +eyes, and reaching forth the one arm which was free she threw it around +her son's neck and kissed him fondly, while the little child which had +wrought the change,--a latter-day miracle of broken affections made +whole, of bitter wounds healed by the touch of innocence,--lay there +between them, striving, with its playful hands, to catch at its mother's +bowing head. + + * * * * * + +As Jose Rosado and I walked homeward through the pale-blue moonlight, we +did not say much. I was deeply moved by the touching scene I had beheld; +and he was exceedingly reflective. + +At last, as we neared La Fonda's vine-run walls, he said: + +"Senor, do you think the miracles are all over nowadays?" + +"I know not, Senor Jose," I answered; "but there are certainly strange +potencies lurking in the depths of a mother's love." + + + + + _From a Cuirassier's Note-Book._ + + "He was a handsome fellow, the + son of a peasant; but he carried + his blue dolman very well, this + young soldier." + + _De Maupassant._ + + + + +SALVETTE AND BERNADOU. + + +I. + +It is the eve of Christmas in a large village of Bavaria. Along the +snow-whitened streets, amid the confusion of the fog and noise of +carriages and bells, the crowd presses joyously about cook-shops, +wine-booths, and busy stores. Rustling with a light sweep of sound +against the flower-twined and be-ribboned stalls, branches of green +holly, or whole saplings, graced with pendants and shading the heads +below like boughs of the Thuringian forest, go by in happy arms: a +remembrance of nature in the torpid life of winter. + +Day dies out. Far away, behind the gardens of the Residence, lingers a +glimmer of the departing sun, red in the fog; and in the town is such +gaiety, such hurry of preparation for the holiday, that each jet of +light which springs up in the many windows seems to hang from some vast +Christmas-tree. + +This is, in truth, no ordinary Christmas. It is the year of grace +eighteen hundred and seventy, and the holy day is only a pretext the +more to drink to the illustrious Von der Than and celebrate the triumph +of the Bavarian troops. + +"Noel, Noel!" The very Jews of the old town join in the mirth. Behold +the aged Augustus Cahn who turns the corner by the "Blue Grapes!" Truly, +his eyes have never shined before as they do to-night; nor has his +little wicker satchel ever jingled so lightly. Across his sleeve, worn +by the cords of sacks, is passed an honest little hamper, full to the +top and covered with a cold napkin, from under which stick out the neck +of a bottle and a twig of holly. + +What on earth can the old miser want with all this? Can it be possible +that he means to celebrate Christmas himself? Does he mean to have a +family reunion and drink to the German fatherland? Impossible! Everybody +knows old Cahn has no country. His fatherland is his strong box. And, +moreover, he has neither family nor friends,--nothing but debtors. His +sons and his associates are gone away long ago with the army. They +traffic in the rear among the wagons, vending the water of life, buying +watches, and, on nights of battle, emptying the pockets of the dead, or +rifling the baggage tumbled in the ditches of the route. + +Too old to follow his children, Father Cahn has remained in Bavaria, +where he has made magnificent profits from the French prisoners of war. +He is always prowling about the barracks to buy watches, shoulder-knots, +medals, post-orders. You may see him glide through the hospitals, beside +the ambulances. He approaches the beds of the wounded and demands, in a +low, hideous growl,-- + +"Haf you anyting to sell?" + +And, hold! At this same moment, the reason he trots so gayly with his +basket under his arm, is solely that the military hospital closes at +five o'clock, and that there are two Frenchmen who await him high up in +that tall black building with straight, iron-barred windows, where +Christmas finds nothing to welcome her approach save the pale lights +which guard the pillows of the dying. + + +II. + +These two Frenchmen are named Salvette and Bernadou. They are +infantrymen from the same village of Provence, enrolled in the same +battalion, and wounded by the same shell. But Salvette had the stronger +frame, and already he begins to grow convalescent, to take a few steps +from his bed towards the window. + +Bernadou, though, will never be cured. Through the pale curtains of the +hospital bed, his figure looks more meagre, more languished day by day; +and when he speaks of his home, of return thither, it is with that sad +smile of the sick wherein there is more of resignation than of hope. + +To-day, now, he is a little animated by the thought of the cheerful +Christmas time, which, in our country of Provence, is like a grand +bonfire of joy lighted in the midst of winter; by remembrance of the +departure for Mass at midnight; the church bedecked and luminous; the +dark streets of the village full of people; then the long watch around +the table; the three traditional flambeaux; the ceremony of the +Yule-log; then the grand promenade around the house, and the sparkle of +the burning wine. + +"Ah, my poor Salvette, what a sad Christmas we are going to have this +year! If only we had money to buy a little loaf of white bread and a +flask of claret wine! What a pleasure it would be before passing away +forever to sprinkle once again the Yule-log, with thee!" + +And, in speaking of white bread and claret wine, the eyes of the sick +youth glistened with pleasure. + +But what to do? They had nothing, neither money nor watches. Salvette +still held hidden in the seam of his mantle a post-order for forty +francs. But that was for the day when they should be free and the first +halt they should make in a cabaret of France. That was sacred; not to be +touched! + +But poor Bernadou is so sick. Who knows whether he will ever be able to +return? And, then, it is Christmas, and they are together, perhaps, for +the last time. Would it not be better to use it, after all? + +Then, without a word to his comrade, Salvette loosens his tunic to take +out the post-order, and when old Cahn comes, as he does every morning to +make his tour of the aisles, after long debates and discussions under +the breath, he thrusts into the Jew's hands the slip of paper, worn and +yellow, smelling of powder and dashed with blood. + +From that moment Salvette assumed an air of mystery. He rubbed his hands +and laughed all to himself when he looked at Bernadou. And, as night +fell, he was on the watch, his forehead pressed eagerly against the +window-pane, until he saw, through the fog of the deserted court below, +old Augustus Cahn, who came panting with his exertions, and carrying a +little basket on his arm. + +III. + +This solemn midnight, which sounds from all the bells of the town, falls +sadly into the pale night of the sick. The hospital is silent, lit only +by the night-lamps suspended from the ceiling. Great running shadows +flit over the beds and bare walls in a perpetual balancing, which seems +to image the heavy respiration of all the sufferers lying there. + +At times, dreamers talk high in their feverish sleep, or groan in the +clutches of nightmares; while from the street there mounts up a vague +rumor of feet and voices, mingled in the cold and sonorous night like +sounds made under a cathedral porch. + +Salvette feels the gathering haste, the mystery of a religious feast +crossing the hours of sleep, the hanging forth in the dark village of +the blind light of lanterns and the illumination of the windows of the +church. + +"Are you asleep, Bernadou?" + +Softly, on the little table next his comrade's bed, Salvette has placed +a bottle of _vin de Lunel_ and a loaf of bread, a pretty Christmas loaf, +where the twig of holly is planted straight in the centre. + +Bernadou opens his eyes encircled with fever. By the indistinct glow of +the night-lamps and under the white reflection of the great roofs where +the moonlight lies dazzlingly on the snow, this improvised Christmas +feast seems but a fantastic dream. + +[Illustration: The Hospital] + +"Come, arouse thee, comrade! It shall not be said that two sons of +Provence have let this midnight pass without sprinkling a drop of +claret!" And Salvette lifts him up with the tenderness of a mother. He +fills the goblets, cuts the bread, and then they drink and talk of +Provence. + +Little by little Bernadou grows animated and moved by the occasion,--the +white wine, the remembrances! With that child-like manner which the sick +find in the depths of their feebleness he asks Salvette to sing a +Provencal Noel. His comrade asks which: "The Host," or "The Three +Kings," or "St. Joseph Has Told Me"? + +"No; I like the 'Shepherds' best. We chant that always at home." + +"Then, here's for the 'Shepherds.'" + +And in a low voice, his head between the curtains, Salvette began to +sing. + +All at once, at the last couplet, when the shepherds, coming to see +Jesus in His stable, have placed in the manger their offerings of fresh +eggs and cheeses, and when, bowing with an affable air, + + "Joseph says, 'Go! be very sage: + Return, and make you good voyage, + Shepherds, + Take your leave!'" + +--all at once poor Bernadou slipped and fell heavily on the pillow. His +comrade thought he had fallen asleep, and called him, shook him. But the +wounded boy rested immovable, and the little twig of holly lying across +the rigid cloth, seemed already the green palm they place upon the +pillows of the dead. + +Salvette understood at last. Then, in tears, a little weakened by the +feast and by his grief, he raised in full voice, through the silence of +the room, the joyous refrain of Provence,-- + + "Shepherds, + Take your leave!" + + + + + _A Breton Peasant's Romance._ + + + "Eyes dark; face thin, long, and + sallow; nose aquiline, but not + straight, having a peculiar inclination + towards the left cheek; + expression, therefore, sinister." + + _Dickens._ + + + + +THE WOLF TOWER. + + +I. + +Long ago, in Brittany, under the government of St. Gildas the Wise, +seventh abbot of Ruiz, there lived a young tenant of the abbey who was +blind in the right eye and lame in the left leg. His name was Sylvestre +Ker, and his mother, Josserande Ker, was the widow of Martin Ker, in his +lifetime the keeper of the great door of the Convent of Ruiz. + +The mother and the son lived in a tower, the ruins of which are seen at +the foot of Mont Saint Michel de la Trinite, in the grove of +chestnut-trees that belongs to Jean Marechal, the mayor's nephew. These +ruins are now called the Wolf Tower, and the Breton peasants shudder as +they pass through the chestnut-grove; for at midnight, around the Wolf +Tower, and close to the first circle of great stones erected by the +Druids at Carnac, are seen the phantoms of a young man and a young +girl--Pol Bihan and Matheline du Coat-Dor. + +The young girl is of graceful figure, with long, floating hair, but +without a face; and the young man is tall and robust, but the sleeves of +his coat hang limp and empty, for he is without arms. + +Round and round the circle they pass in opposite directions, and, +strange to tell, they never meet, nor do they ever speak to each other. + +Once a year, on Christmas night, instead of walking they run; and all +the Christians who cross the heath to go to the midnight Mass hear from +afar the young girl cry,-- + +"Wolf Sylvestre Ker, give me back my beauty!" and the deep voice of the +young man adds, "Wolf Sylvestre Ker, give me back my strength!" + + +II. + +And this has lasted for thirteen hundred years; therefore you may well +think there is a story connected with it. + +When Martin Ker, the husband of Dame Josserande, died, their son +Sylvestre was only seven years old. The widow was obliged to give up the +guardianship of the great door to a man-at-arms, and retire to the +tower, which was her inheritance; but little Sylvestre Ker had +permission to follow the studies in the convent school. + +The boy showed natural ability, but he studied little except in the +class of chemistry, taught by an old monk named Thael, who was said to +have discovered the secret of making gold out of lead by adding to it a +certain substance which no one but himself knew; for certainly, if the +fact had been communicated, all the lead in the country would have been +quickly turned into gold. + +As for Thael himself, he had been careful not to profit by his secret, +for Gildas the Wise had once said to him,-- + +"Thael, Thael, God does not wish you to change the work of His hands. +Lead is lead, and gold is gold. There is enough gold, and not too much +lead. Leave God's works alone; if not, Satan will be your master." + +Most assuredly such precepts would not be well received by modern +industry; but St. Gildas knew what he said, and Thael died of extreme +old age before he had changed the least particle of lead into gold. +This, however, was not from want of will, which was proved after his +death, as the rumor spread about that Thael did not altogether desert +his laboratory, but at times returned to his beloved labors. Many a +time, in the lonely hours of the night, the fishermen, in their barks, +watched the glimmer of the light in his former cell; and Gildas the +Wise, having been warned of the fact, arose one night before Lauds, and +with quiet steps crossed the corridors, thinking to surprise his late +brother, and perhaps ask of him some details of the other side of the +dreaded door which separates life from death. + +When he reached the cell he listened, and heard Thael's great bellows +puffing and blowing, although no one had yet been appointed to succeed +him. Gildas suddenly opened the door with his master-key, and saw before +him little Sylvestre Ker actively employed in relighting Thael's +furnaces. + +St. Gildas was not a man to give way to sudden wrath; he took the child +by the ear, drew him outside, and said to him, gently,-- + +"Ker, my little Ker, I know what you are attempting and what tempts you +to make the effort; but God does not wish it, nor I either, my little +Ker." + +"I do it," replied the boy, "because my dear mother is so poor." + +"Your mother is what she is; she has what God gives her. Lead is lead +and gold is gold. If you go against the will of God, Satan will be your +master." + +Little Ker returned to the tower crestfallen, and never again slipped +into the cell of the dead Thael; but when he was eighteen years old a +modest inheritance was left him, and he bought materials for dissolving +metals and distilling the juice of plants. He gave out that his aim was +to learn the art of healing; for that great purpose he read great books +which treated of medical science and many other things besides. + +He was then a youth of fine appearance, with a noble, frank face, +neither one-eyed nor lame, and led a retired life with his mother, who +ardently loved her only son. + +No one visited them in the tower except the laughing Matheline, the +heiress of the tenant of Coat-Dor and god-daughter of Josserande; and +Pol Bihan, son of the successor of Martin Ker as armed keeper of the +great door. + +Both Pol and Matheline often conversed together, and upon what subject +do you think? Always of Sylvestre Ker. Was it because they loved him? +No. What Matheline loved most was her own fair self, and Pol Bihan's +best friend was named Pol Bihan. + +Matheline passed long hours before her little mirror of polished steel, +which faithfully reflected her laughing mouth full of pearls; and Pol +was proud of his great strength, for he was the best wrestler in the +Carnac country. When they spoke of Sylvestre Ker, it was to say, "What +if some fine morning he should find the secret of the fairy-stone that +is the mother of gold!" + +And each one mentally added,-- + +"I must continue to be friendly with him, for if he becomes wealthy he +will enrich me." + +Josserande also knew that her beloved son sought after the fairy-stone, +and even had mentioned it to Gildas the Wise, who shook his venerable +head and said,-- + +"What God wills will be. Be careful that your son wears a mask over his +face when he seeks the cursed thing; for what escapes from the crucible +is Satan's breath, and the breath of Satan causes blindness." + +Josserande, meditating upon these words, went to kneel before the cross +of St. Cado, which is in front of the seventh stone of Caesar's +camp,--the one that a little child can move by touching it with his +finger, but that twelve horses harnessed to twelve oxen cannot stir from +its solid foundation. Thus prostrate, she prayed: "O Lord Jesus! Thou +who hast mercy for mothers on account of the Holy Virgin, Thy mother, +watch well over my little Sylvestre, and take from his head this thought +of making gold. Nevertheless, if it is Thy will that he should be rich, +Thou art the Master of all things, my sweet Saviour!" + +And as she rose she murmured: "What a beautiful boy he would be with a +cloak of fine cloth and a hood bordered with fur, if he only had means +to buy them." + + +III. + +It came to pass that as all these young people, Pol Bihan, Matheline, +and Sylvestre Ker, gained a year each time that twelve months rolled by, +they reached the age to think of marriage; and Josserande, one morning, +proceeded to the dwelling of the farmer of Coat-Dor to ask the hand of +Matheline for her son, Sylvestre Ker; at which proposal Matheline opened +her rosy mouth so wide, to laugh the louder, that far back she showed +two pearls which had never before been seen. + +When her father asked her if the offer suited her, she replied, "Yes, +father and godmother, provided that Sylvestre Ker gives me a gown of +cloth of silver embroidered with rubies, like that of the Lady of +Lannelar, and that Pol Bihan may be our groomsman." + +Pol, who was there, also laughed, and said, "I will assuredly be +groomsman to my friend Sylvestre Ker, if he consents to give me a velvet +mantle striped with gold, like that of the Castellan of Gavre, the Lord +of Carnac." + +Whereupon Josserande returned to the tower, and said to her son, "Ker, +my darling, I advise you to choose another friend and another bride; +for those two are not worthy of your love." + +But the young man began to sigh and groan, and answered, "No friendship +or love will I ever know except for Pol, my dear comrade, and Matheline, +your god-daughter, my beautiful playfellow." + +And Josserande having told him of the two new pearls that Matheline had +shown in the back of her mouth, nothing would do but he must hurry to +Coat-Dor to try and see them, also. + +On the road from the tower to the farm of Coat-Dor is the Point of +Hinnic, where the grass is salt, which makes the cows and rams very +fierce while they are grazing. + +As Sylvestre Ker walked down the path at the end of which is the Cross +of St. Cado, he saw, on the summit of the promontory, Pol and Matheline +strolling along, talking and laughing; so he thought,-- + +"I need not go far to see Matheline's two pearls." + +And, in fact, the girl's merry laughter could be heard below, for it +always burst forth if Pol did but open his lips. When, lo, and behold! a +huge old ram, which had been browsing on the salt grass, tossed back his +two horns, and, fuming at the nostrils, bleated as loud as the stags +cry when chased, and rushed in the direction of Matheline's voice; for, +as every one knows, the rams become furious if laughter is heard in +their meadow. + +He ran quickly, but Sylvestre Ker ran still faster, and arrived the +first by the girl, so that he received the shock of the ram's butting +while protecting her with his body. The injury was not very great, only +his right eye was touched by the curved end of one of the horns when the +ram raised his head, and thus Sylvestre Ker became one-eyed. + +The ram, prevented from slaughtering Matheline, dashed after Pol Bihan, +who fled; reached him just at the end of the cliff, and pushed him into +the sea, that beat against the rocks fifty feet below. + +Well content with his work, the ram walked off, and the legend says he +laughed behind his woolly beard. + +But Matheline wept bitterly, and cried,-- + +"Ker, my handsome Ker, save Bihan, your sweet friend, from death, and I +pledge my faith I will be your wife without any condition." + +At the same time, amid the roaring of the waves, was heard the imploring +voice of Pol Bihan crying,-- + +"Sylvestre, O Sylvestre Ker! my only friend, I cannot swim. Come +quickly and save me from dying without confession, and all you may ask +of me you shall have, were it the dearest treasure of my heart." + +Sylvestre Ker asked,-- + +"Will you be my groomsman?" And Bihan replied,-- + +"Yes, yes; and I will give you a hundred crowns. And all that your +mother may ask of me she shall have. But hasten, hasten, dear friend, or +the waves will carry me off." + +Sylvestre Ker's blood was pouring from the wound in his eye, and his +sight was dimmed; but he was generous of heart, and boldly leaped from +the top of the promontory. As he fell, his left leg was jammed against a +jutting rock and broke, so there he was, lame as well as one-eyed; +nevertheless, he dragged Bihan to the shore and asked,-- + +"When shall the wedding be?" + +As Matheline hesitated in her answer--for Sylvestre's brave deeds were +too recent to be forgotten--Pol Bihan came to her assistance and gayly +cried,-- + +"You must wait, Sylvestre, my saviour, until your leg and eye are +healed." + +"Still longer," added Matheline (and now Sylvestre Ker saw the two new +pearls, for in her laughter she opened her mouth from ear to ear); +"still longer, as limping, one-eyed men are not to my taste--no, no!" + +"But," cried Sylvestre Ker, "it is for your sakes that I am one-eyed and +lame." + +"That is true," said Bihan. + +"That is true," also repeated Matheline, for she always spoke as he did. + +"Ker, my friend Ker," resumed Bihan, "wait until to-morrow, and we will +make you happy." + +And off they went, Matheline and he, arm-in-arm, leaving Sylvestre to go +hobbling along to the tower, alone with his sad thoughts. + +Would you believe it? Trudging wearily home, he consoled himself by +thinking he had seen two new pearls behind the smile. You may, perhaps, +think you have never met such a fool. Undeceive yourself; it is the same +with all the men, who only look for laughing girls with teeth like +pearls. But the sorrowful one was Josserande, the widow, when she saw +her son with only one eye and one sound leg. + +"Where did all this happen," she asked, with tears. + +And as Sylvestre Ker gently answered, "I have seen them, mother; they +are very beautiful," Josserande divined that he spoke of her +god-daughter's two pearls, and cried,-- + +"By all that is holy, he has also lost his mind!" + +Then seizing her staff, she went to the Abbey of Ruiz to consult St. +Gildas as to what could be done in this unfortunate case. And the wise +man replied,-- + +"You should not have spoken of the two pearls; your son would have +remained at home. But, now that the evil is done, nothing will happen to +him contrary to God's holy will. At high tide the sea comes foaming over +the sands, yet see how quietly it retires. What is Sylvestre Ker doing +now?" + +"He is lighting his furnaces," replied Josserande. + +The wise man paused to reflect, and after a little while said,-- + +"In the first place, you must pray devoutly to the Lord our God, and +afterwards look well before you to know where to put your feet. The weak +buy the strong, the unhappy the happy; did you know that, my good woman? +Your son will persevere in search of the fairy-stone that changes lead +into gold, to pay for Pol's wicked friendship and for the pearls behind +the dangerous smiles of that Matheline. Since God permits it, all is +right. Yet see that your son is well protected against the smoke of his +crucible, for it is the very breath of Satan; and make him promise to go +to the midnight Mass." + +For it was near the glorious Feast of Christmas. + + +IV. + +Josserande had no difficulty in making Sylvestre Ker promise to go to +the midnight Mass, for he was a good Christian; and she bought for him +an iron armor to put on when he worked around his crucibles, so as to +preserve him from Satan's breath. + +And it happened that, late and early, Pol Bihan now came to the tower, +bringing with him the laughing Matheline; for it was rumored that at +last Sylvestre Ker would soon find the fairy-stone and become a wealthy +man. + +It was not only two new pearls that Matheline showed at the corners of +her rosy mouth, but a brilliant row that shone, and chattered, and +laughed, from her lips down to her throat; for Pol Bihan had said to +her: "Laugh as much as you can; for smiles attract fools, as the turning +mirror catches larks." + +We have spoken of Matheline's lips, of her throat, and of her smile, but +not of her heart; of that we can only say the place where it should have +been was nearly empty; so she replied to Bihan,-- + +"As much as you will. I can afford to laugh to be rich; and when the +fool shall have given me all the gold of the earth, all the pleasures of +the world, I will be happy, happy.... I will have them all for myself, +for myself alone, and I will enjoy them." + +Pol Bihan clasped his hands in admiration, so lovely and wise was she +for her age; but he thought: "I am wiser still than you, my beauty; we +will share between us what the fool will give--one-half for me, and the +other also; the rest for you. Let the water run under the bridge." + +The day before Christmas they came together to the tower,--Matheline +carrying a basket of chestnuts, Pol a large jug, full of sweet +cider,--to make merry with the godmother. + +They roasted the chestnuts in the ashes, heated the cider before the +fire, adding to it fermented honey, wine, sprigs of rosemary, and +marjoram leaves; and so delicious was the perfume of the beverage that +even Dame Josserande longed for a taste. + +On the way thither, Pol had advised Matheline adroitly to question +Sylvestre Ker, to know when he would at last find the fairy-stone. + +Sylvestre Ker neither ate chestnuts nor drank wine, so absorbed was he +in the contemplation of Matheline's bewitching smiles; and she said to +him,-- + +"Tell me, my handsome, lame, and one-eyed bridegroom, will I soon be the +wife of a wealthy man?" + +Sylvestre Ker, whose eye shot forth lurid flame, replied,-- + +"You would have been as rich as you are beautiful to-morrow, without +fail, if I had not promised my dear mother to accompany her to the +midnight Mass to-night. The favorable hour falls just at the first +stroke of Matins." + +"To-day?" + +"Between to-day and to-morrow." + +"And can it not be put off?" + +"Yes, it can be put off for seven years." + +Dame Josserande heard nothing, as Pol was relating an interesting story, +so as to distract her attention; but, while talking, he listened with +all his ears. + +Matheline laughed no longer, and thought,-- + +"Seven years! Can I wait seven years?" Then she continued: + +"Beautiful bridegroom, how do you know that the propitious moment falls +precisely at the hour of Matins? Who told you so?" + +"The stars," replied Sylvestre Ker. "At midnight Mars and Saturn will +arrive in diametrical opposition; Venus will seek Vesta; Mercury will +disappear in the sun; and the planet without a name, that the deceased +Thael divined by calculation, I saw last night, steering its unknown +route through space to come in conjunction with Jupiter. Ah! if I only +dared disobey my dear mother." He was interrupted by a distant +vibration of the bells of Plouharnel, which rang out the first signal of +the midnight Mass. + +Josserande instantly left her wheel. + +"It would be a sin to spin one thread more," said she. "Come, my son +Sylvestre, put on your Sunday clothes, and let us be off for the parish +church, if you please." + +Sylvestre wished to rise, for never yet had he disobeyed his mother; but +Matheline, seated at his side, detained him and murmured in silvery +tones,-- + +"My handsome friend, you have plenty of time." + +Pol, on his side, said to Dame Josserande,-- + +"Get your staff, neighbor, and start at once, so as to take your time. +Your god-daughter Matheline will accompany you; and I will follow with +friend Sylvestre, for fear some accident might happen to him with his +lame leg and sightless eye." As he proposed, so it was done; for +Josserande suspected nothing, knowing that her son had promised, and +that he would not break his word. + +As they were leaving, Pol whispered to Matheline,-- + +"Amuse the good woman well, for the fool must remain here." + +And the girl replied,-- + +"Try and see the caldron in which our fortune is cooking. You will tell +me how it is done." + +Off the two women started; a large, kind mother's heart full of tender +love, and a sparrow's little gizzard, narrow and dry, without enough +room in it for one pure tear. For a moment Sylvestre Ker stood on the +threshold of the open door to watch them depart. On the gleaming white +snow their two shadows fell--the one bent and already tottering, the +other erect, flexible, and each step seemed a bound. The young lover +sighed. Behind him, in a low voice, Pol Bihan said,-- + +"Ker, my comrade, I know what you are thinking about, and you are right +to think so; this must come to an end. She is as impatient as you are, +for her love equals yours; for both of you it is too long to wait." + +Sylvestre Ker turned pale with joy. + +"Do you speak truth?" he stammered. "Am I fortunate enough to be loved +by her?" + +"Yes, on my faith!" replied Pol Bihan; "she loves you too well for her +own peace. When a girl laughs too much, it is to keep from +weeping,--that's the real truth." + + +V. + +Well might they call him "the fool," poor Sylvestre Ker! Not that he had +less brains than another man,--on the contrary, he was now very +learned--but love crazes him who places his affections on an unworthy +object. + +Sylvestre Ker's little finger was worth two dozen Pol Bihan's and fifty +Matheline's; in spite of which Matheline and Pol Bihan were perfectly +just in their contempt, for he who ascends the highest falls lowest. + +When Sylvestre had re-entered the tower, Pol commenced to sigh heavily, +and said,-- + +"What a pity! What a great, great pity!" + +"What is a pity?" asked Sylvestre Ker. + +"It is a pity to miss such a rare opportunity." + +Sylvestre Ker exclaimed, "What opportunity? So you were listening to my +conversation with Matheline?" + +"Why, yes," replied Pol. "I always have an ear open to hear what +concerns you, my true friend. Seven years! Shall I tell you what I +think? You would only have twelve months to wait to go with your mother +to another Christmas Mass." + +"I have promised," said Sylvestre. + +"That is nothing: if your mother loves you truly, she will forgive +you." + +"If she loves me!" cried Sylvestre Ker. "Oh, yes, she loves me with her +whole heart." + +Some chestnuts still remained, and Bihan shelled one while he said,-- + +"Certainly, certainly, mothers always love their children; but Matheline +is not your mother. You are one-eyed, you are lame, and you have sold +your little patrimony to buy your furnaces. Nothing remains of it. Where +is the girl that can wait seven years? Nearly the half of her age!... If +I were in your place, I would not throw away my luck as you are about to +do, but at the hour of Matins I would work for my happiness." + +Sylvestre Ker was standing before the fireplace. He listened, his eyes +bent down, with a frown upon his brow. + +"You have spoken well," at last he said; "my dear mother will forgive +me. I shall remain, and will work at the hour of Matins." + +"You have decided for the best!" cried Bihan. "Rest easy; I will be with +you in case of danger. Open the door of your laboratory. We will work +together; I will cling to you like your shadow!" + +Sylvestre Ker did not move, but looked fixedly upon the floor, and then, +as if thinking aloud, murmured,-- + +"It will be the first time I have ever caused my dear mother sorrow!" + +He opened a door, but not that of the laboratory, pushed Pol Bihan +outside, and said,-- + +"The danger is for myself alone; the gold will be for all. Go to the +Christmas Mass in my place; say to Matheline that she will be rich, and +to my dear mother that she will have a happy old age, since she will +live and die with her fortunate son." + + +VI. + +When Sylvestre Ker was alone, he listened to the noise of the waves +dashing upon the beach and the sighing of the wind among the great +oaks,--two mournful sounds. And he looked with conflicting feelings at +the empty seats of Matheline and of his dear mother Josserande. Little +by little had he seen the black hair of the widow become gray, then +white, around her sunken temples. That night memory carried him back +even to his cradle, over which had bent the sweet, noble face of her who +had always spoken to him of God. + +But whence came those golden ringlets that mingled with Josserande's +black hair, and which shone in the sunlight above his mother's snowy +locks? And that laugh, oh! that silvery laugh of youth, which prevented +Sylvestre Ker from hearing, in his pious recollections, the calm, grave +voice of his mother. Whence did it come? + +Seven years! Pol had said. "Where is the girl who can wait seven years?" +and these words floated in the air. Never had the son of Martin Ker +heard such strange voices amid the roaring of the ocean, nor in the +rushing winds of the forest of the Druids. + +Suddenly the tower also commenced to speak, not only through the cracks +of the old windows where the mournful wind sighed, but with a confusion +of sounds that resembled the busy whispering of a crowd, that penetrated +through the closed doors of the laboratory, under which a bright light +streamed. Sylvestre Ker opened the door, fearing to see all in a blaze, +but there was no fire; the light that streamed under the door came from +the round, red eye of his furnace, and happened to strike the stone of +the threshold. No one was in the laboratory; still, the noises, similar +to the chattering of an audience awaiting a promised spectacle, did not +cease. The air was full of speaking things; the spirits could be felt +swarming around, as closely packed as the wheat in the barn or the sand +on the seashore. And, although not seen, they spoke all kinds of +phantom-words, which were heard right and left, before and behind, above +and below, and which penetrated through the pores of the skin like +quicksilver passing through a cloth. + +They said,-- + +"The Magi has started, my friend." + +"My friend, the Star shines in the East." + +"My friend, my friend, the little King Jesus is born in the manger, upon +the straw." + +"Sylvestre Ker will surely go with the shepherds." + +"Not at all; Sylvestre Ker will not go." + +"Good Christian he was." + +"Good Christian he is no longer." + +"He has forgotten the name of Joseph." + +"And the name of Mary." + +"No, no, no!" + +"Yes, yes, yes!" + +"He will go!" + +"He will not go!" + +"He will go, since he promised Dame Josserande." + +"He will not go, since Matheline told him to stay." + +"My friend, my friend, to-night Sylvestre Ker will find the golden +secret." + +"To-night, my friend, my friend, he will win the heart of the one he +loves." + +And the invisible spirits, thus disputing, sported through the air, +mounting, descending, whirling around like atoms of dust in a sunbeam, +from the flag-stones of the floor to the rafters of the roof. + +Inside the furnace, in the crucible, some other thing responded, but it +could not be well heard, as the crucible had been hermetically sealed. + +"Go out from here, you wicked crowd," cried Sylvestre Ker, sweeping +around with a broom of holly branches. "What are you doing here? Go +outside, cursed spirits, damned souls--go, go!" + +From all the corners of the room came laughter; Matheline seemed +everywhere. Suddenly there was profound silence, and the wind from the +sea brought the sound of the bells of Plouharnel, ringing the second +peal for the midnight Mass. + +"My friend, what are they saying?" + +"They say Christmas, my friend--Christmas, Christmas, Christmas!" + +"Not at all! They say, Gold, gold, gold!" + +"You lie, my friend!" + +"My friend, you lie!" + +And the other voices, those that were grumbling in the interior of the +furnace, swelled and puffed. + +The fire, that no person was blowing, kept up by itself, hot as the soul +of a forge should be. The crucible became red, and the stones of the +furnace were dyed a deep scarlet. + +In vain did Sylvestre Ker sweep with his holly broom; between the +branches, covered with sharp leaves, the spirits passed,--nothing could +catch them; and the heat was so great the boy was bathed in +perspiration. + +After the bells had finished their second peal, he said,-- + +"I am stifling. I will open the window to let out the heat as well as +this herd of evil spirits." + +But as soon as he opened the window, the whole country commenced to +laugh under its white mantle of snow--barren heath, ploughed land, Druid +stones, even to the enormous oaks of the forest, with their glistening +summits, that shook their frosty branches, saying,-- + +"Sylvestre Ker will go! Sylvestre Ker will not go!" + +Not a spirit from within flew out, while all the outside spirits +entered, muttering, chattering, laughing,-- + +"Yes, yes, yes, yes! No, no, no, no!" And I believe they fought. + +At the same time the sound of a cavalcade advancing was heard on the +flinty road that passed before the tower; and Sylvestre Ker recognized +the long procession of the monks of Ruiz, led by the grand abbot, Gildas +the Wise, arrayed in cope and mitre, with his crozier in his hand, +going to the Mass of Plouharnel, as the convent chapel was being +rebuilt. + +When the head of the cavalcade approached the tower, the grand abbot +cried out,-- + +"My armed guards, sound your horns to awaken Dame Josserande's son!" + +And instantly there was a blast from the horns, which rang out until +Gildas the Wise exclaimed,-- + +"Be silent, for there is my tenant wide awake at his window." + +When all was still, the grand abbot raised his crozier and said,-- + +"My tenant, the first hour of Christmas approaches, the glorious Feast +of the Nativity. Extinguish your furnaces and hasten to Mass, for you +have barely time." And on he passed, while those in the procession, as +they saluted Ker, repeated,-- + +"Sylvestre Ker, you have barely time; make haste!" + +The voices of the air kept gibbering: "He will go! He will not go!" and +the wind whistled in bitter sarcasm. + +Sylvestre Ker closed his window. He sat down, his head clasped by his +trembling hands. His heart was rent by two forces that dragged him, one +to the right, the other to the left,--his Mother's prayer and +Matheline's laughter. + +He was no miser; he did not covet gold for the sake of gold, but that he +might buy the row of pearls and smiles that hung from the lips of +Matheline.... + +"Christmas!" cried a voice in the air. + +"Christmas, Christmas, Christmas!" repeated all the other voices. + +Sylvestre Ker suddenly opened his eyes, and saw that the furnace was +fiery red from top to bottom, and that the crucible was surrounded with +rays so dazzling he could not even look at it. Something was boiling +inside that sounded like the roaring of a tempest. + +"Mother! Oh, my dear mother!" cried the terrified man, "I am coming. +I'll run...." + +But thousands of little voices stung his ears with the words,-- + +"Too late, too late, too late! It is too late!" + +Alas! alas! the wind from the sea brought the third peal of the bells of +Plouharnel, and they also said to him: "Too late." + + +VII. + +As the sound of the bells died away, the last drop of water fell from +the clepsydra and marked the hour of midnight. Then the furnace opened +and showed the glowing crucible, which burst with a terrible noise, and +threw out a gigantic flame that reached the sky through the torn roof. +Sylvestre Ker, enveloped by the fire, fell prostrate on the ground, +suffocated in the burning smoke. + +The silence of death followed. Suddenly an awful voice said to him: +"Arise." And he arose. + +On the spot where had stood the furnace, of which not a vestige +remained, was standing a man, or rather a colossus; and Sylvestre Ker +needed but a glance to recognize in him the demon. His body appeared to +be of iron, red-hot and transparent; for in his veins could be seen the +liquid gold, flowing into, and then retreating from, his heart, black as +an extinguished coal. + +The creature, who was both fearful and beautiful to behold, extended his +hand towards the side of the tower nearest the sea, and in the thick +wall a large breach was made. + +"Look!" said Satan. + +Sylvestre Ker obeyed. He saw, as though distance were annihilated, the +interior of the humble church of Plouharnel where the faithful We +assembled. The officiating priest had just ascended the altar, brilliant +with the Christmas candles, and there was great pomp and splendor; for +the many monks of Gildas the Wise were assisting the poor clergy of the +parish. + +In a corner, under the shadow of a column knelt Dame Josserande in +fervent prayer, but often did the dear woman turn towards the door to +watch for the coming of her son. + +Not far from her was Matheline du Coat-Dor, bravely attired and very +beautiful, but lavishing the pearls of her smiles upon all who sought +them, forgetting no one but God; and, close to Matheline, Pol Bihan +squared his broad shoulders. Then, even as Satan had given to Sylvestre +Ker's sight the power of piercing the walls, so did he permit him to +look into the depth of hearts. In his mother's heart he saw himself as +in a mirror. It was full of him. Good Josserande prayed for him; she +prayed to Jesus, whose feast is Christmas, in the pious prayer which +fell from her lips; and ever and ever said her heart to God: "My son, my +son, my son!" + +In the heart of Pol, Sylvestre Ker saw pride of strength and gross +cupidity; in the spot where should have been the heart of Matheline, he +saw Matheline, and nothing but Matheline, in adoration before Matheline. + +"I have seen enough," said Sylvestre Ker. + +"Then," replied Satan, "listen!" And immediately the sacred music +resounded in the ears of the young tenant of the tower as plainly as +though he was in the church of Plouharnel. They were singing the +Sanctus: "Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Hosts! The heavens and the earth +are full of Thy glory. Hosanna in the highest! Blessed is He that cometh +in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest!" + +Dame Josserande repeated the words with the others, but the refrain of +her heart continued: "O Jesus, Infinite Goodness! may he be happy. +Deliver him from all evil, from all sin. I have only him to love.... +Holy, holy, holy, give me all the suffering and keep for him all the +happiness!" + +Can you believe it? Even while piously inhaling the perfume of this +celestial hymn, the young tenant wished to know what Matheline was +saying to God. Everything speaks to God,--the wild beasts in the forest, +the birds in the air, even the plants, whose roots are in the ground. + +But miserable girls who sell the pearls of their smiles are lower than +the animals and vegetables. Nothing is beneath them,--Pol Bihan +excepted. Instead of speaking to God, Pol Bihan and Matheline whispered +together, and Sylvestre Ker heard them as distinctly as if he had been +between them. + +"How much will the fool give?" asked Matheline. + +"The idiot will give you all," replied Pol. + +"And must I really squint with that one-eyed creature, and limp with the +lame wretch?" + +Sylvestre Ker felt his heart die away within him. + +Meanwhile, Josserande prayed earnestly for Sylvestre Ker. + +"Never mind," continued Bihan; "it is worth while limping and squinting +for a time to win all the money in the world." + +"That is true; but for how long?" + +Sylvestre Ker held his breath to hear the better. + +"As long as you please," answered Pol Bihan. + +There was a pause, after which the gay Matheline resumed in a lower +tone,-- + +"But ... they say after a murder one can never laugh, and I wish to +laugh always...." + +"Will I not be there?" replied Bihan. "Some time or other the idiot will +certainly seek a quarrel with me, and I will crack his bones by only +squeezing him in my arms; you can count upon my strength." + +"I have heard enough," said Sylvestre Ker to Satan. + +"And do you still love this Bihan?" + +"No: I despise him." + +"And Matheline,--do you love her yet?" + +"Yes, oh! yes!... but ... I hate her!" + +"I see," said Satan, "that you are a coward, and wicked like all men. +Since you have heard and seen enough at a distance, listen, and look at +your feet...." + +The wall closed with a loud crash of the stones as they came together, +and Sylvestre Ker saw that he was surrounded by an enormous heap of +gold-pieces, as high as his waist, which gently floated, singing the +symphony of riches. All around him was gold, and through the gap in the +roof the shower of gold fell, and fell, and fell. + +"Am I the master of all this?" asked Sylvestre Ker. + +"Yes," replied Satan; "you have compelled me, who am gold, to come forth +from my caverns; you are therefore the master of gold, provided you +purchase it at the price of your soul. You cannot have both God and +gold. You must choose one or the other." + +"I have chosen," said Sylvestre Ker. "I keep my soul." + +"You have firmly decided?" + +"Irrevocably." + +"Once, twice, ... reflect! You have just acknowledged that you still love +the laughing Matheline." + +"And that I hate her.... Yes, ... it is so.... But in eternity I wish +to be with my dear mother, Josserande." + +"Were there no mothers," growled Satan, "I could play my game much +better in the world!" + +And he added,-- + +"For the third time, ... adjudged!" + +The heap of gold became as turbulent as the water of a cascade, and +leaped and sang; the millions of little sonorous coins clashed against +each other, and then all was silent and they vanished. + +The room appeared as black as a place where there had been a fire; +nothing could be seen but the lurid gleam of Satan's iron body. Then +said Sylvestre Ker,-- + +"Since all is ended, retire!" + + +VIII. + +But the demon did not stir. + +"Do you think, then," he asked, "that you have brought me hither for +nothing? There is the law. You are not altogether my slave, since you +have kept your soul; but as you have freely called me, and I have come, +you are my vassal. I have a half claim over you. The little children +know that; I am astonished at your ignorance.... From midnight to three +o'clock in the morning you belong to me, in the form of an animal, +restless, roving, complaining, without help from God. This is what you +owe to your strong friend and beautiful bride. Let us settle the affair +before I depart. What animal do you wish to be,--roaring lion, bellowing +ox, bleating sheep, crowing cock? If you become a dog, you can crouch at +Matheline's feet, and Bihan can lead you by a leash to hunt in the +woods...." + +"I wish," cried Sylvestre Ker, whose anger burst forth at these words, +"I wish to be a wolf, to devour them both!" + +"So be it," said Satan; "wolf you shall be three hours of the night +during your mortal life.... Leap, wolf!" + +And the wolf, Sylvestre Ker, leaped, and with one dash shattered the +casement of the window as he cleared it with a bound. Through the +aperture in the roof Satan escaped, and, spreading a pair of immense +wings, rapidly disappeared in an opposite direction from the steeple of +Plouharnel, whose chimes were ringing across the snow. + + +IX. + +I do not know if you have ever seen a Breton village come forth after +the midnight Mass. It is a joyous sight, but a brief one, as all are in +a hurry to return home, where the midnight meal awaits them,--a frugal +feast, but eaten with such cheerful hearts. The people, for a moment +massed in the cemetery, exchange hospitable invitations, kind wishes, +and friendly jokes; then divide into little caravans, which hurry along +the roads, laughing, talking, singing. If it is a clear, cold night, the +clicking of their wooden shoes may be heard for some time; but if it is +damp weather, the sound is stifled, and after a few moments the faint +echo of an "adieu" or Christmas greeting is all that can be heard around +the church as the beadle closes it. + +In the midst of all this cheerfulness Josserande alone returned with a +sad heart; for through the whole Mass she had in vain watched for her +beloved son. She walked fifty paces behind the cavalcade of the monks of +Ruiz, and dared not approach the Grand Abbot Gildas, for fear of being +questioned about her boy. On her right was Matheline du Coat-Dor, on her +left Bihan,--both eager to console her; for they thought that by that +time Sylvestre Ker must have learned the wonderful secret which would +secure him untold wealth, and to possess the son they should cling to +the mother; therefore there were promises and caresses, and "will you +have this, or will you have that?" + +"Dear godmother, I shall always be with you," said Matheline, "to +comfort and rejoice your old age; for your son is my heart." + +Pol Bihan continued,-- + +"I will never marry, but always remain with my friend, Sylvestre Ker, +whom I love more than myself. And nothing must worry you; if he is weak, +I am strong, and I will work for two." + +To pretend that Dame Josserande paid much attention to all these words +would be false; for her son possessed her whole soul, and she thought,-- + +"This is the first time he has ever disobeyed and deceived me. The demon +of avarice has entered into him. Why does he want so much money? Can all +the riches in the world pay for one of the tears that the ingratitude of +a beloved son draws from his mother's eyes?" + +Suddenly her thoughts were arrested, for the sound of a trumpet was +heard in the still night. + +"It is the convent horn," said Matheline. + +"And it sounds the wolf-alarm," added Pol. + +"What harm can the wolf do," asked Josserande, "to a well-mounted troop +like the cavalry of Gildas the Wise? And, besides, cannot the holy abbot +with a single word put to flight a hundred wolves?" + +They arrived at the heath of Carnac, where are the two thousand seven +hundred and twenty-nine Druid stones, and the monks had already passed +the round point where nothing grows, neither grass nor heath, and which +resembles an enormous caldron,--a caldron wherein to make +oaten-porridge,--or rather a race-course, to exercise horses. + +On one side might be seen the town, dark and gloomy; on the other, as +far as the eye could reach, rows of rugged obelisks, half-black, +half-white, owing to the snow, which threw into bold relief each jagged +outline. Josserande, Matheline, and Pol Bihan had just turned from the +sunken road which branches towards Plouharnel; and the moon played +hide-and-go-seek behind a flock of little clouds that flitted over the +sky like lambs. + +Then a strange thing happened. The cavalcade of monks was seen to +retreat from the entrance of the avenues to the middle of the circle, +while the horn sounded the signal of distress, and loud cries were heard +of "Wolf! wolf! wolf!" At the same time could be distinguished the +clashing of arms, the stamping of horses, and all the noise of a +ferocious struggle, above which rose the majestic tones of Gildas the +Wise, as he said, with calmness,-- + +"Wolf, wicked wolf, I forbid you to touch God's servants!" But it +seemed that the wicked wolf was in no hurry to obey, for the cavalcade +plunged hither and thither as though shaken by convulsion; and the moon +having come forth from the clouds, there was seen an enormous beast +struggling with the staffs of the monks, the halberds of the armed +guard, the pitchforks and spears of the peasants, who had hastened from +all directions at the trumpet-call from Ruiz. + +The animal received many wounds, but it was fated not to die. Again and +again it charged upon the crowd, rushed up and down, round and round, +biting, tearing with its great teeth so fearfully that a large circle +was made around the grand abbot, who was finally left alone in face of +the wolf. For a wolf it was. And the grand abbot having touched it with +his crosier, the wolf crouched at his feet, panting, trembling, and +bloody. + +Gildas the Wise bent over it, looked at it attentively, then said,-- + +"Nothing happens contrary to God's will. Where is Dame Josserande?" + +"I am here," replied a mournful voice full of tears, "and I dread a +great misfortune." + +She also was alone; for Matheline and Pol Bihan, seized with terror, had +rushed across the fields at the first alarm and abandoned their +precious charge. The grand abbot called Josserande and said,-- + +"Woman, do not despair. Above you is the Infinite Goodness, who holds in +His hands the heavens and the whole earth. Meanwhile, protect your wolf; +we must return to the monastery to gain from sleep strength to serve the +Lord our God!" + +And he resumed his course, followed by his escort. + +The wolf did not move; his tongue lay on the snow, which was reddened by +his blood. Josserande knelt beside him and prayed fervently. For whom? +For her beloved son. Did she already know that the wolf was Sylvestre +Ker? Certainly; such a thing could scarcely be divined; but under what +form cannot a mother discover her darling child? + +She defended the wolf against the peasants, who had returned to strike +him with their pitchforks and pikes, as they believed him dead. The two +last who came were Pol Bihan and Matheline. Pol Bihan kicked him on the +head, and said, "Take that, you fool!" and Matheline threw stones at +him, and cried: "Idiot, take that, and that, and that!" + +They had hoped for all the gold in the world, and this dead beast could +give them nothing more. + +After a while two ragged beggars passed by and assisted Josserande in +carrying the wolf into the tower. Where is charity most often found? +Among the poor, who are the figures Of Jesus Christ. + + +X. + +Day dawned. A man slept in the bed of Sylvestre Ker, where widow +Josserande had laid a wolf. The room still bore the marks of a fire, and +snow fell through the hole in the roof. The young tenant's face was +disfigured with blows, and his hair, stiffened with blood, hung in heavy +locks. In his feverish sleep he talked, and the name that escaped his +lips was Matheline's. At his bedside the mother watched and prayed. + +When Sylvestre Ker awoke he wept, for the thought of his condemnation +returned; but the remembrance of Pol and Matheline dried the tears in +his burning eyes. + +"It was for those two," said he, "that I forgot God and my mother. I +still feel my friend's heel upon my forehead, and even to the bottom of +my heart the shock of the stones thrown at me by my betrothed!" + +"Dearest," murmured Josserande, "dearer to me than ever, I know nothing; +tell me all." + +Sylvestre Ker obeyed, and when he had finished, Josserande kissed him, +took up her staff, and proceeded towards the convent of Ruiz to ask, +according to her custom, aid and counsel from Gildas the Wise. On the +way, men, women, and children looked curiously at her, for throughout +the country it was already known that she was the mother of a wolf. Even +behind the hedge which enclosed the abbey orchard Matheline and Pol were +hidden to see her pass; and she heard Pol say,-- + +"Will you come to-night to see the wolf run around?" + +"Without fail," replied Matheline; and the sting of her laughter pierced +Josserande like a poisonous thorn. + +The grand abbot received her, surrounded by great books and dusty +manuscripts. When she wished to explain her son's case, he stopped her, +and said,-- + +"Widow of Martin Ker, poor, good woman, since the beginning of the +world, Satan, the demon of gold and pride, has worked many such +wickednesses. Do you remember the deceased brother, Thael, who is a +saint for having resisted the desire of making gold,--he who had the +power to do it?" + +"Yes," answered Josserande; "and would to heaven my Sylvestre had +imitated him!" + +"Very well," replied Gildas the Wise. "Instead of sleeping, I passed +the rest of the night with St. Thael, seeking a means to save your son, +Sylvestre Ker." + +"And have you found it, father?" + +The grand abbot neither answered yes nor no, but he began to turn over a +very thick manuscript filled with pictures; and, while turning the +leaves, he said,-- + +"Life springs from death, according to the divine word; death seizes the +living, according to the pagan law of Rome; and it is nearly the same +thing in the order of miserable temporal ambition, whose inheritance is +a strength, a life, shot forth from a coffin. This is a book of the +defunct Thael's, which treats of the question of maladies caused by the +breath of gold,--a deadly poison.... Woman, would you have the courage +to strike your wolf a blow on his head powerful enough to break the +skull?" + +At these words Josserande fell her full length upon the tiles, as if she +had been stabbed to the heart; but in the very depth of her agony--for +she thought herself dying--she replied,-- + +"If you should order me to do it, I would." + +"You have this great confidence in me, poor woman?" cried Gildas, much +moved. + +"You are a man of God," answered Josserande, "and I have faith in God." + +Gildas the Wise prostrated himself on the ground and struck his breast, +knowing that he had felt a movement of pride. Then, standing up, he +raised Josserande, and kissed the hem of her robe, saying,-- + +"Woman, I adore you in the most holy faith. Prepare your axe, and +sharpen it!" + + +XI. + +In the days of Gildas the Wise, intense silence always reigned at night +through the dense oak forest of the Armorican country. One of the most +lonely places was Caesar's camp, the name was given to the huge masses of +stone that encumbered the barren heath; and it was the common opinion +that the pagan giants, supposed to be buried under them, rose from their +graves at midnight and roamed up and down the long avenues, watching for +the late passers-by, to twist their necks. + +This night, however,--the night after Christmas,--many persons could be +seen, about eleven o'clock, on the heath before the stones of Carnac, +all around the Great Basin or circle, whose irregular outline was +clearly visible by moonlight. The enclosure was entirely empty. Outside +no one was seen, it is true; but many could be heard gabbling in the +shadow of the high rocks, under the shelter of the stumps of oaks, even +in the tufts of thorny brambles; and all this assemblage watched for +something, and that something was the wolf, Sylvestre Ker. They had come +from Plouharnel, and also from Lannelar, from Carnac, from Kercado, even +from the old town of Crach, beyond La Trinite. + +Who had brought together all these people, young and old, men and women? +The legend does not say; but very probably Matheline had strewn around +the cruel pearls of her laughter, and Pol Bihan had not been slow to +relate what he had seen after the midnight Mass. + +By some means or other, the entire country around for five or six +leagues knew that the son of Martin Ker, the tenant of the abbey, had +become a man-wolf, and that he was doomed to expiate his crime in the +spot haunted by the phantoms,--the Great Basin of the Pagans, between +the tower and the Druid stones. + +Many of the watchers had never seen a man-wolf, and there reigned in the +crowd, scattered in invisible groups, a fever of curiosity, terror, and +impatience; the minutes lengthened as they passed, and it seemed as +though midnight, stopped on the way, would never come. + +There were at that time no clocks in the neighborhood to mark the hour, +but the matin-bell of the convent of Ruiz gave notice that the +wished-for moment had arrived. + +While waiting there was busy conversation: they spoke of the man-wolf, +of phantoms, and also of betrothals, for the rumor was spread that the +bans of Matheline du Coat-Dor, the promised bride of Sylvestre Ker, with +the strong Pol Bihan, who had never found a rival in the +wrestling-field, would be published on the following Sunday; and I leave +you to imagine how Matheline's laughter ran in pearly cascades when +congratulated on her approaching marriage. + +By the road which led up to the tower a shadow slowly descended; it was +not the wolf, but a poor woman in mourning, whose head was bent upon her +breast, and who held in her hand an object that shone like a mirror, and +the brilliant surface of which reflected the moonbeams. + +"It is Josserande Ker!" was whispered around the circle, behind the +rocks, in the brambles, and under the stumps of the oaks. + +"'Tis the widow of the armed keeper of the great door!" + +"'Tis the mother of the wolf, Sylvestre Ker!" + +"She also has come to see...." + +"But what has she in her hand?" + +Twenty voices asked the question. Matheline, who had good eyes, and such +beautiful ones, replied,-- + +"It looks like an axe.... Happy am I to be rid of those two, the mother +and son! With them I could never laugh." + +But there were two or three good souls who said in low tones,-- + +"Poor widow! her heart must be full of sorrow." + +"But what does she want with that axe?" + +"It is to defend her wolf," again replied Matheline, who carried a +pitchfork. + +Pol Bihan held an enormous hollow stick which resembled a club. Every +one was armed either with threshing-flails or rakes or hoes; some even +bore scythes, carried upright; for they had not only come to look on, +but to make an end of the man-wolf. + +Again was heard the chime of the matin-bells of the convent of Ruiz, and +immediately a smothered cry ran from group to group,-- + +"Wolf! wolf! wolf!" + +Josserande heard it, for she paused in her descent and cast an anxious +look around; but, seeing no one, she raised her eyes to heaven and +clasped her hands over the handle of her axe. + +The wolf, in the meantime, with fuming nostrils and eyes which looked +like burning coals, leaped over the stones of the enclosure and began to +run around the circle. + +"See, see!" said Pol Bihan; "he no longer limps." And Matheline, +dazzled by the red light from his eyes, added: "It seems he is no longer +one-eyed!" + +Pol brandished his club, and continued,-- + +"What are we waiting for? Why not attack him?" + +"Go you first," said the men. + +"I caught cold the other day, and my leg is stiff, which keeps me from +running," answered Pol. + +"Then I will go first!" cried Matheline, raising her pitchfork. "I will +soon show how I hate the wretch!" + +Dame Josserande heard her, and sighed,-- + +"Girl, whom I blessed in baptism, may God keep me from cursing you now!" + +This Matheline, whose pearls were worth nothing, was no coward; for she +carried out her words, and marched straight up to the wolf, while Bihan +stayed behind and cried,-- + +"Go, go, my friends; don't be afraid! Ah! but for my stiff leg, I would +soon finish the wolf, for I am the strongest and bravest." + +Round and round the circle galloped the wolf as quickly as a hunted +stag; his eyes darted fire, his tongue was hanging from his mouth. +Josserande, seeing the danger that threatened him, wept and cried out,-- + +"O Bretons! is there among you all not one kind soul to defend the +widow's son in the hour when he bitterly expiates his sin?" + +"Let us alone, godmother," boldly replied Matheline. + +And from afar Pol Bihan added: "Don't listen to the old woman; go!" + +But another voice was heard in answer to Dame Josserande's appeal, and +it said,-- + +"As last night, we are here!" + +Standing in front of Matheline and barring the passage were two ragged +beggars, with their wallets, leaning upon their staffs. Josserande +recognized the two poor men who had so charitably aided her the night +before; and one of them, who had snow-white hair and beard, said,-- + +"My brethren, why do you interfere in this? God rewards and punishes. +This poor man-wolf is not a damned soul, but one expiating a great +crime. Leave justice to God, if you do not wish some great misfortune to +happen to you." + +And Josserande, who was kneeling down, said imploringly,-- + +"Listen, listen to the saint!" + +But from behind, Pol Bihan cried out,-- + +"Since when have beggars been allowed to preach sermons? Ah! if it were +not for my stiff leg.... Kill him, kill him!... wolf! wolf!" + +"Wolf! wolf!" repeated Matheline, who tried to drive off the old beggar +with her pitchfork. But the fork broke like glass in her hands as it +touched the poor man's tatters, and at the same time twenty voices +cried,-- + +"The wolf! the wolf! Where has the wolf gone?" + +Soon it was seen where the wolf had gone. A black mass dashed through +the crowd, and Pol Bihan uttered a horrible cry,-- + +"Help! help! Matheline!" + +You have often heard the noise made by a dog when crunching a bone. This +was the noise they heard, but louder, as though there were many dogs +crunching many bones. And a strange voice, like the growling of a wolf, +said,-- + +"The strength of a man is a dainty morsel for a wolf to eat. Bihan, +traitor, I eat your strength!" + +The black mass again bounded through the terrified crowd, his bloody +tongue hanging from his mouth, his eyes darting fire. + +This time it was from Matheline that a scream still more horrible than +that of Pol's was heard; and again there was the noise of another +terrible feast, and the voice of the wild beast, which had already +spoken, growled,-- + +"The pearls of a smile make a dainty morsel for a wolf to eat. +Matheline, serpent that stung my heart, seek for your beauty. I have +eaten it!" + + +XII. + +The white-haired beggar had endeavored to protect Matheline against the +wolf, but he was very old, and his limbs would not move as quickly as +his heart. He only succeeded in throwing down the wolf. It fell at +Josserande's feet and licked her knees, uttering doleful moans. But the +people, who had come thither for entertainment, were not well pleased +with what had happened. There was now abundance of light, as men with +torches had arrived from the abbey in search of Gildas the Wise, whose +cell had been found empty at the hour of Compline. + +The glare from the torches shone upon two hideous wounds made by the +wolf, who had devoured Matheline's beauty and Pol's strength,--that is +to say, the face of the one and the arms of the other--flesh and bones. +It was frightful to behold. The women wept while looking at the +repulsive, bleeding mass which had been Matheline's smiling face; the +men sought in the double bloody gaps some traces of Pol's arms, for the +powerful muscles, the glory of the athletic games; and every heart was +filled with wrath. + +And the legend says that the tenant of Coat-Dor, Matheline's poor +father, knelt beside his daughter and felt around in the blood for the +scattered pearls, which were now as red as holly-berries. + +"Alas!" said he, "of these dead, stained things, which when living were +so beautiful, which were admired and envied and loved, I was so proud +and happy." + +Alas! indeed, alas! Perhaps it was not the girl's fault that her heart +was no larger than a little bird's; and yet for this defect was not +Matheline cruelly punished? + +"Death to the wolf! death to the wolf! death to the wolf!" + +From all sides was this cry heard, and brandishing pitchforks, cudgels, +ploughshares, and mallets, came rushing the people towards the wolf, who +still lay panting, with open jaws and pendent tongue, at the feet of +Dame Josserande. + +Around them the torch-bearers formed a circle: not to throw light upon +the wolf and Dame Josserande, but to render homage to the white-haired +beggar, in whom, as though the scales had suddenly fallen from their +eyes, every one recognized the Grand Abbot of Ruiz, Gildas the Wise. + +The grand abbot raised his hand, and the armed crowd's eager advance was +checked, as if their feet had been nailed to the ground. Calmly he +surveyed them, blessed them, and said,-- + +"Christians, the wolf did wrong to punish, for chastisement belongs to +God alone; therefore the wolf's fault should not be punished by you. In +whom resides the power of God? In the holy authority of fathers and +mothers. So here is my penitent Josserande, who will rightfully judge +the wolf and punish him; she is his mother." + +When Gildas the Wise ceased speaking, you could have heard a mouse run +across the heath. Each one thought to himself: "So the wolf is really +Sylvestre Ker." But not a word was uttered, and all looked at Dame +Josserande's axe, which glistened in the moonlight. + +Josserande's heart sank within her, and she murmured,-- + +"My beloved one, my beloved one, whom I have borne in my arms and +nourished with my milk,--ah! me, can the Lord God inflict this cruel +martyrdom upon me?" + +No one replied, not even Gildas the Wise, who silently adjured the +All-Powerful, and recalled to Him the sacrifice of Abraham. + +Josserande raised her axe, but she had the misfortune to look at the +wolf, who fixed his eyes, full of tears, upon her, and the axe fell from +her hands. + +It was the wolf who picked it up, and when he gave it back to her, he +said,-- + +"I weep for you, my mother." + +"Strike!" cried the crowd; for what remained of Pol and Matheline +uttered terrible groans. "Strike! strike!" + +While Josserande again seized her axe, the grand abbot had time to +say,-- + +"Do not complain, you two unhappy ones; for your suffering here below +changes your hell into heaven." + +Three times Josserande raised the axe, three times she let it fall +without striking; but at last she said, in a hoarse tone that sounded +like a death-rattle, "I have great faith in the good God!" and then she +struck boldly, for the wolf's head split in two halves. + + +XIII. + +A sudden wind extinguished the torches, and some one prevented Dame +Josserande from falling, as she sank fainting to the ground, by +supporting her in his arms. + +By the light of the halo which shone around the blessed head of Gildas +the Wise, the good people saw that this somebody was the young tenant, +Sylvestre Ker, no longer lame and one-eyed, but with two straight legs +and two perfect eyes. + +At the same time there were heard voices in the clouds chanting. And +why? Because heaven and earth quivered with emotion at witnessing this +supreme act of faith soaring from the depth of anguish in a mother's +heart. + + +XIV. + +This is the legend that for many centuries has been related at +Christmas-time on the shores of the Petite-Mer, which, in the Breton +tongue, is called Armor bihan, the Celtic name of Brittany. + +If you ask what moral these good people draw from this strange story, I +will answer that it contains a basketful. Pol and Matheline, condemned +to walk around the Basin of the Pagans until the end of time,--one +without arms, the other without a face,--offer a severe lesson to those +who are too proud of their broad shoulders and brute force, and +gossiping flirts of girls with smiling faces and wicked hearts; the case +of Sylvestre Ker teaches young men not to listen to the demon of money; +the blow of Josserande's axe shows the miraculous power of faith. + +Still further, that you may bind together these diverse morals in one, +here is a proverb which is current in the province: "Never stoop to +pick up the pearls of a smile." After this, ask me no more. + +As to the authenticity of the story, I have already said that the +chestnut-grove belongs to the mayor's nephew, which is one guarantee; +and I will add that the spot is called Sylvestre-ker, and that the ruins +hung with moss have no other name than "The Wolf Tower." + + + + + _An Indian Officer's Idyll._ + + + "An officer and a gentleman--which + is an enviable thing." + + _Kipling._ + + + + +THE PEACE EGG. + + +I. + +Every one ought to be happy at Christmas. But there are many things +which ought to be, and yet are not; and people are sometimes sad even in +the Christmas holidays. + +The Captain and his wife were sad, though it was Christmas Eve. Sad, +though they were in the prime of life, blessed with good health, devoted +to each other and to their children, with competent means, a comfortable +house on a little freehold property of their own, and, one might say, +everything that heart could desire. Sad, though they were good people, +whose peace of mind had a firmer foundation than their earthly goods +alone; contented people, too, with plenty of occupation for mind and +body. Sad--and in the nursery this was held to be past all +reason--though the children were performing that ancient and most +entertaining play or Christmas Mystery of Good St. George of England, +known as "The Peace Egg," for their benefit and behoof alone. + +The play was none the worse that most of the actors were too young to +learn parts, so that there was very little of the rather tedious +dialogue, only plenty of dress and ribbons, and of fighting with wooden +swords. But though St. George looked bonny enough to warm any father's +heart, as he marched up and down with an air learned by watching many a +parade in barrack-square and drill-ground, and though the Valiant +Slasher did not cry in spite of falling hard and the Doctor treading +accidentally on his little finger in picking him up, still the Captain +and his wife sighed nearly as often as they smiled, and the mother +dropped tears as well as pennies into the cap which the King of Egypt +brought round after the performance. + + +II. + +Many, many years back the Captain's wife had been a child herself, and +had laughed to see the village mummers act "The Peace Egg," and had been +quite happy on Christmas Eve. Happy, though she had no mother. Happy, +though her father was a stern man, very fond of his only child, but with +an obstinate will that not even she dared thwart. She had lived to +thwart it, and he had never forgiven her. It was when she married the +Captain. The old man had a prejudice against soldiers, which was quite +reason enough, in his opinion, for his daughter to sacrifice the +happiness of her future life by giving up the soldier she loved. At last +he gave her her choice between the Captain and his own favor and money. +She chose the Captain, and was disowned and disinherited. + +The Captain bore a high character, and was a good and clever officer, +but that went for nothing against the old man's whim. He made a very +good husband, too; but even this did not move his father-in-law, who had +never held any intercourse with him or his wife since the day of their +marriage, and who had never seen his own grandchildren. Though not so +bitterly prejudiced as the old father, the Captain's wife's friends had +their doubts about the marriage. The place was not a military station, +and they were quiet country folk who knew very little about soldiers, +while what they imagined was not altogether favorable to "red-coats," as +they called them. + +Soldiers are well-looking generally, it is true, and the Captain was +more than well-looking--he was handsome; brave, of course it is their +business, and the Captain had V. C. after his name and several bits of +ribbon on his patrol jacket. But then, thought the good people, they are +here to-day and gone to-morrow, you "never know where you have them;" +they are probably in debt, possibly married to several women in several +foreign countries, and, though they are very courteous in society, who +knows how they treat their wives when they drag them off from their +natural friends and protectors to distant lands, where no one can call +them to account? + +"Ah, poor thing!" said Mrs. John Bull, junior, as she took off her +husband's coat on his return from business, a week after the Captain's +wedding, "I wonder how she feels? There's no doubt the old man behaved +disgracefully; but it's a great risk marrying a soldier. It stands to +reason, military men aren't domestic; and I wish--Lucy Jane, fetch your +papa's slippers, quick!--she'd had the sense to settle down comfortably +among her friends with a man who would have taken care of her." + +"Officers are a wild set, I expect," said Mr. Bull, complacently, as he +stretched his limbs in his own particular arm-chair, into which no +member of his family ever intruded. "But the red-coats carry the day +with plenty of girls who ought to know better. You women are always +caught by a bit of finery. However, there's no use our bothering our +heads about it. As she has brewed she must bake." + +The Captain's wife's baking was lighter and more palatable than her +friends believed. The Captain, who took off his own coat when he came +home, and never wore slippers but in his dressing-room, was domestic +enough. + +A selfish companion must, doubtless, be a great trial amid the hardships +of military life, but when a soldier is kind-hearted, he is often a much +more helpful and thoughtful and handy husband than any equally +well-meaning civilian. Amid the ups and downs of their wanderings, the +discomforts of shipboard and of stations in the colonies, bad servants, +and unwonted sicknesses, the Captain's tenderness never failed. If the +life was rough, the Captain was ready. He had been, by turns, in one +strait or another, sick-nurse, doctor, carpenter, nursemaid, and cook to +his family, and had, moreover, an idea that nobody filled these offices +quite so well as himself. Withal, his very profession kept him neat, +well-dressed, and active. In the roughest of their ever-changing +quarters he was a smarter man, more like the lover of his wife's young +days, than Mr. Bull amid his stationary comforts. + +Then if the Captain's wife was--as her friends said--"never settled," +she was also forever entertained by new scenes; and domestic mischances +do not weigh very heavily on people whose possessions are few and their +intellectual interests many. + +It is true that there were ladies in the Captain's regiment who passed +by sea and land from one quarter of the globe to another, amid strange +climates and customs, strange trees and flowers, beasts and birds, from +the glittering snow of North America to the orchids of the Cape, from +beautiful Pera to the lily-covered hills of Japan, and who in no place +rose above the fret of domestic worries, and had little to tell on their +return but of the universal misconduct of servants, from Irish "helps" +in the colonies to _compradors_ and China-boys at Shanghai. But it was +not so with the Captain's wife. Moreover, one becomes accustomed to +one's fate, and she moved her whole establishment from the Curragh to +Corfu with less anxiety than that felt by Mrs. Bull over a port-wine +stain on the best table-cloth. + +And yet, as years went and children came, the Captain and his wife grew +tired of travelling. New scenes were small comfort when they heard of +the death of old friends. One foot of murky English sky was dearer, +after all, than miles of the unclouded heavens of the South. The gray +hills and overgrown lanes of her old home haunted the Captain's wife by +night and day, and homesickness, that weariest of all sicknesses, began +to take the light out of her eyes before their time. It preyed upon the +Captain, too. Now and then he would say, fretfully, "I should like an +English resting-place, however small, before everybody is dead! But the +children's prospects have to be considered." The continued estrangement +from the old man was an abiding sorrow also, and they had hopes that, if +only they could get to England, he might be persuaded to peace and +charity this time. + +At last they were sent home. But the hard old father still would not +relent. He returned their letters unopened. This bitter disappointment +made the Captain's wife so ill that she almost died, and in one month +the Captain's hair became iron gray. He reproached himself for having +ever taken the daughter from her father, "to kill her at last," as he +said. And, thinking of his own children, he even reproached himself for +having robbed the old widower of his only child. After two years at home +his regiment was ordered to India. He failed to effect an exchange, and +they prepared to move once more,--from Chatham to Calcutta. Never before +had the packing, to which she was so well accustomed, been so bitter a +task to the Captain's wife. + +It was at the darkest hour of this gloomy time that the Captain came in, +waving above his head a letter which changed all their plans. + +Now close by the old home of the Captain's wife there had lived a man, +much older than herself, who yet had loved her with a devotion as great +as that of the young Captain. She never knew it, for, when he saw that +she had given her heart to his young rival, he kept silence, and he +never asked for what he knew he might have had--the old man's authority +in his favor. So generous was the affection which he could never +conquer, that he constantly tried to reconcile the father to his +children while he lived, and, when he died, he bequeathed his house and +small estate to the woman he had loved. + +"It will be a legacy of peace," he thought, on his death-bed. "The old +man cannot hold out when she and her children are constantly in sight. +And it may please God that I shall know of the reunion I have not been +permitted to see with my eyes." + +And thus it came about that the Captain's regiment went to India without +him, and that the Captain's wife and her father lived on opposite sides +of the same road. + + +III. + +The eldest of the Captain's children was a boy. He was named Robert, +after his grandfather, and seemed to have inherited a good deal of the +old gentleman's character, mixed with gentler traits. He was a fair, +fine boy, tall and stout for his age, with the Captain's regular +features, and, he flattered himself, the Captain's firm step and martial +bearing. He was apt--like his grandfather--to hold his own will to be +other people's law, and happily for the peace of the nursery this +opinion was devoutly shared by his brother Nicholas. Though the Captain +had sold his commission, Robert continued to command an irregular force +of volunteers in the nursery, and never was a colonel more despotic. His +brothers and sisters were by turn infantry, cavalry, engineers, and +artillery, according to his whim, and when his affections finally +settled upon the Highlanders of "The Black Watch," no female power could +compel him to keep his stockings above his knees, or his knickerbockers +below them. + +The Captain alone was a match for his strong-willed son. + +"If you please, sir," said Sarah, one morning, flouncing in upon the +Captain, just as he was about to start for the neighboring town, "if you +please, sir, I wish you'd speak to Master Robert. He's past my powers." + +"I've no doubt of it," thought the Captain; but he only said, "Well, +what's the matter?" + +"Night after night do I put him to bed," said Sarah, "and night after +night does he get up as soon as I'm out of the room, and says he's +orderly officer for the evening, and goes about in his night-shirt and +his feet as bare as boards." + +The Captain fingered his heavy moustache to hide a smile, but he +listened patiently to Sarah's complaints. + +"It ain't so much him I should mind, sir," she continued, "but he goes +round the beds and wakes up the other young gentlemen and Miss Dora, one +after another, and when I speak to him he gives me all the sauce he can +lay his tongue to, and says he's going round the guards. The other night +I tried to put him back in his bed, but he got away and ran all over the +house, me hunting him everywhere, and not a sign of him, till he jumps +out on me from the garret-stairs and nearly knocks me down. 'I've +visited the outposts, Sarah,' says he; 'all's well,' and off he goes to +bed as bold as brass." + +"Have you spoken to your mistress?" asked the Captain. + +"Yes, sir," said Sarah. "And misses spoke to him, and he promised not to +go round the guards again." + +"Has he broken his promise?" asked the Captain, with a look of anger and +also surprise. + +"When I opened the door last night, sir," continued Sarah, in her shrill +treble, "what should I see in the dark but Master Robert a-walking up +and down with the carpet-brush stuck in his arm. 'Who goes there?' says +he. 'You owdacious boy!' says I. 'Didn't you promise your ma you'd leave +off them tricks?' 'I'm not going round the guards,' says he; 'I promised +not. But I'm for sentry-duty to-night.' And say what I would to him, all +he had for me was, 'You mustn't speak to a sentry on duty.' So I says, +'As sure as I live till morning, I'll go to your pa,' for he pays no +more attention to his ma than me, nor to any one else." + +"Please to see that the chair-bed in my dressing-room is moved into your +mistress's bed-room," said the Captain. "I will attend to Master +Robert." + +With this Sarah had to content herself, and she went back to the +nursery. Robert was nowhere to be seen, and made no reply to her +summons. On this the unwary nursemaid flounced into the bed-room to look +for him, when Robert, who was hidden beneath a table, darted forth and +promptly locked her in. + +"You're under arrest," he shouted through the keyhole. + +"Let me out!" shrieked Sarah. + +"I'll send a file of the guard to fetch you to the orderly-room +by-and-by," said Robert, "for 'preferring frivolous complaints,'" and he +departed to the farmyard to look at the ducks. + +That night, when Robert went up to bed, the Captain quietly locked him +into his dressing-room, from which the bed had been removed. + +"You're for sentry-duty to-night," said the captain, "The carpet-brush +is in the corner. Good-evening." + +As his father anticipated, Robert was soon tired of the sentry game in +these new circumstances, and long before the night had half worn away he +wished himself safely undressed and in his own comfortable bed. At +half-past twelve o'clock he felt as if he could bear it no longer, and +knocked at the Captain's door. + +"Who goes there?" said the Captain. + +"Mayn't I go to bed, please?" whined poor Robert. + +"Certainly not," said the Captain. "You're on duty." + +And on duty poor Robert had to remain, for the Captain had a will as +well as his son. So he rolled himself up in his father's railway rug and +slept on the floor. + +The next night he was glad to go quietly to bed, and remain there. + + +IV. + +The Captain's children sat at breakfast in a large, bright nursery. It +was the room where the old bachelor had died, and now _her_ children +made it merry. This is just what he would have wished. + +They all sat round the table, for it was breakfast-time. There were five +of them, and five bowls of boiled bread-and-milk smoked before them. +Sarah, a foolish, gossiping girl, who acted as nurse till better could +be found, was waiting on them, and by the table sat Darkie, the black +retriever, his long, curly back swaying slightly from the difficulty of +holding himself up, and his solemn hazel eyes fixed very intently on +each and all of the breakfast bowls. He was as silent and sagacious as +Sarah was talkative and empty-headed. The expression of his face was +that of King Charles I. as painted by Vandyke. Though large, he was +unassuming. Pax, the pug, on the contrary, who came up to the first +joint of Darkie's leg, stood defiantly on his dignity and his short +stumps. He always placed himself in front of the bigger dog, and made a +point of hustling him in door-ways and of going first down stairs. He +strutted like a beadle, and carried his tail more tightly curled than a +bishop's crook. He looked as one may imagine the frog in the fable would +have looked had he been able to swell himself rather nearer to the size +of the ox. This was partly due to his very prominent eyes, and partly to +an obesity favored by habits of lying inside the fender, and of eating +meals proportioned more to his consequence than to his hunger. They were +both favorites of two years' standing, and had very nearly been given +away, when the good news came of an English home for the family, dogs +and all. + +Robert's tongue was seldom idle, even at meals. "Are you a Yorkshire +woman, Sarah?" he asked, pausing, with his spoon full in his hand. + +"No, Master Robert," said Sarah. + +"But you understand Yorkshire, don't you? I can't, very often; but mamma +can, and can speak it, too. Papa says mamma always talks Yorkshire to +servants and poor people. She used to talk Yorkshire to Themistocles, +papa said, and he said it was no good; for, though Themistocles knew a +lot of languages, he didn't know that. And mamma laughed, and said she +didn't know she did. Themistocles was our man-servant in Corfu," Robin +added, in explanation. "He stole lots of things, Themistocles did; but +papa found him out." + +Robin now made a rapid attack on his bread-and-milk, after which he +broke out again,-- + +"Sarah, who is that tall gentleman at church, in the seat near the +pulpit? He wears a cloak like what the Blues wear, only all blue, and is +tall enough for a Life-guardsman. He stood when we were kneeling down, +and said, 'Almighty and most merciful Father,' louder than anybody." + +Sarah knew who the old gentleman was, and knew also that the children +did not know, and that their parents did not see fit to tell them as +yet. But she had a passion for telling and hearing news, and would +rather gossip with a child than not gossip at all. "Never you mind, +Master Robin," she said, nodding sagaciously. "Little boys aren't to +know everything." + +"Ah, then, I know you don't know," replied Robert; "if you did, you'd +tell. Nicholas, give some of your bread to Darkie and Pax. I've done +mine. For what we have received, the Lord make us truly thankful. Say +your grace, and put your chair away, and come along. I want to hold a +court-martial." And, seizing his own chair by the seat, Robin carried it +swiftly to its corner. As he passed Sarah, he observed, tauntingly, "You +pretend to know, but you don't." + +"I do," said Sarah. + +"You don't," said Robin. + +"Your ma's forbid you to contradict, Master Robin," said Sarah; "and if +you do, I shall tell her. I know well enough who the old gentleman is, +and perhaps I might tell you, only you'd go straight off and tell +again." + +"No, no, I wouldn't!" shouted Robin. "I can keep a secret; indeed, I +can! Pinch my little finger, and try. Do, do tell me, Sarah; there's a +dear Sarah, and then I shall know you know." And he danced round her, +catching at her skirts. + +To keep a secret was beyond Sarah's powers. + +"Do let my dress be, Master Robin," she said; "you're ripping out all +the gathers, and listen while I whisper. As sure as you're a living boy, +that gentleman's your own grandpapa." + +Robin lost his hold on Sarah's dress; his arm fell by his side, and he +stood with his brows knit, for some minutes, thinking. Then he said, +emphatically,-- + +"What lies you do tell, Sarah!" + +"Oh, Robin!" cried Nicholas, who had drawn near, his thick curls +standing stark with curiosity; "mamma said 'lies' wasn't a proper word, +and you promised not to say it again." + +"I forgot," said Robin. "I didn't mean to break my promise. But she does +tell--ahem!--you know what." + +"You wicked boy!" cried the enraged Sarah; "how dare you say such a +thing, and everybody in the place knows he's your ma's own pa." + +"I'll go and ask her," said Robin, and he was at the door in a moment; +but Sarah, alarmed by the thought of getting into a scrape herself, +caught him by the arm. + +"Don't you go, love; it'll only make your ma angry. There; it was all my +nonsense." + +"Then it's not true?" said Robin, indignantly. "What did you tell me so +for?" + +"It was all my jokes and nonsense," said the unscrupulous Sarah. "But +your ma wouldn't like to know I've said such a thing. And Master Robert +wouldn't be so mean as to tell tales, would he, love?" + +"I'm not mean," said Robin, stoutly; "and I don't tell tales; but you +do, and you tell--you know what--besides. However, I won't go this time; +but I'll tell you what,--if you tell tales of me to papa any more, I'll +tell him what you said about the old gentleman in the blue cloak." With +which parting threat Robin strode off to join his brothers and sister. + +Sarah's tale had put the court-martial out of his head, and he leaned +against the tall fender, gazing at his little sister, who was tenderly +nursing a well-worn doll. Robin sighed. + +"What a long time that doll takes to wear out, Dora!" said he. "When +will it be done?" + +"Oh, not yet, not yet!" cried Dora, clasping the doll to her, and +turning away. "She's quite good, yet." + +"How miserly you are," said her brother; "and selfish, too; for you +know I can't have a military funeral till you'll let me bury that old +thing." + +Dora began to cry. + +"There you go, crying!" said Robin, impatiently. "Look here: I won't +take it till you get the new one on your birthday. You can't be so mean +as not to let me have it then!" + +But Dora's tears still fell. "I love this one so much," she sobbed. "I +love her better than the new one." + +"You want both; that's it," said Robin, angrily. "Dora, you're the +meanest girl I ever knew!" + +At which unjust and painful accusation Dora threw herself and her doll +upon their faces, and wept bitterly. The eyes of the soft-hearted +Nicholas began to fill with tears, and he squatted down before her, +looking most dismal. He had a fellow-feeling for her attachment to an +old toy, and yet Robin's will was law to him. + +"Couldn't we make a coffin, and pretend the body was inside?" he +suggested. + +"No, we couldn't," said Robin. "I wouldn't play the 'Dead March' after +an empty candle-box. It's a great shame,--and I promised she should be +chaplain in one of my night-gowns, too." + +"Perhaps you'll get just as fond of the new one," said Nicholas, turning +to Dora. + +But Dora only cried, "No, no! He shall have the new one to bury, and +I'll keep my poor, dear, darling Betsey." And she clasped Betsey tighter +than before. + +"That's the meanest thing you've said yet," retorted Robin; "for you +know mamma wouldn't let me bury the new one." And, with an air of great +disgust, he quitted the nursery. + + +V. + +Nicholas had sore work to console his little sister, and Betsey's +prospects were in a very unfavorable state, when a diversion was caused +in her favor by a new whim which put the military funeral out of Robin's +head. + +After he left the nursery he strolled out of doors, and, peeping through +the gate at the end of the drive, he saw a party of boys going through +what looked like a military exercise with sticks and a good deal of +stamping; but instead of mere words of command, they all spoke by turns, +as in a play. In spite of their strong Yorkshire accent, Robin overheard +a good deal, and it sounded very fine. + +Not being at all shy, he joined them, and asked so many questions that +he soon got to know all about it. They were practising a Christmas +mumming-play, called "The Peace Egg." Why it was called that they could +not tell him, as there was nothing whatever about eggs in it, and, so +far as its being a play of peace, it was made up of a series of battles +between certain valiant knights and princes, of whom St. George of +England was chief and conqueror. The rehearsal being over, Robin went +with the boys to the sexton's house, (he was father to the "King of +Egypt,") where they showed him the dresses they were to wear. These were +made of gay-colored materials, and covered with ribbons, except that of +the "Black Prince of Paradine," which was black, as became his title. +The boys also showed him the book from which they learned their parts, +and which was to be bought for one penny at the post-office shop. + +"Then are you the mummers who come round at Christmas, and act in +people's kitchens, and people give them money, that mamma used to tell +us about?" said Robin. + +St. George of England looked at his companions as if for counsel as to +how far they might commit themselves, and then replied, with Yorkshire +caution, "Well, I suppose we are." + +"And do you go out in the snow from one house to another at night; and, +oh, don't you enjoy it?" cried Robin. + +"We like it well enough," St. George admitted. + +[Illustration: Mummers] + +Robin bought a copy of "The Peace Egg." He was resolved to have a +nursery performance, and to act the part of St. George himself. The +others were willing for what he wished, but there were difficulties. + +In the first place, there are eight characters in the play, and there +were only five children. They decided among themselves to leave out the +"Fool," and mamma said that another character was not to be acted by any +of them, or, indeed, mentioned; "the little one who comes in at the +end," Robin explained. Mamma had her reasons, and these were always +good. She had not been altogether pleased that Robin had bought the +play. It was a very old thing, she said, and very queer; not adapted for +a child's play. + +If mamma thought the parts not quite fit for the children to learn, they +found them much too long; so, in the end, she picked out some bits for +each, which they learned easily, and which, with a good deal of +fighting, made quite as good a story of it as if they had done the +whole. What may have been wanting otherwise was made up for by the +dresses, which were charming. + +Robin was St. George, Nicholas the Valiant Slasher, Dora the Doctor, and +the other two Hector and the King of Egypt. "And now we've no Black +Prince!" cried Robin, in dismay. + +"Let Darkie be the Black Prince," said Nicholas. "When you have your +stick he'll jump for it, and then you can pretend to fight with him." + +"It's not a stick, it's a sword," said Robin "However, Darkie may be the +Black Prince." + +"And what's Pax to be?" asked Dora; "for you know he will come if Darkie +does, and he'll run in before everybody else, too." + +"Then he must be the Fool," said Robin; "and it will do very well, for +the Fool comes in before the rest, and Pax can have his red coat on, and +the collar with the little bells." + + +VI. + +Robin thought that Christmas would never come. To the Captain and his +wife it seemed to come too fast. They had hoped it might bring +reconciliation with the old man, but it seemed they had hoped in vain. + +There were times, now, when the Captain almost regretted the old +bachelor's bequest. The familiar scenes of her old home sharpened his +wife's grief. To see her father every Sunday in church, with marks of +age and infirmity upon him, but with not a look of tenderness for his +only child, this tried her sorely. + +"She felt it less abroad," thought the Captain. "An English home, in +which she frets herself to death, is, after all, no great boon." + +Christmas Eve came. + +"I'm sure it's quite Christmas enough, now," said Robin. "We'll have +'The Peace Egg' to-night." + +So, as the Captain and his wife sat sadly over their fire, the door +opened, and Pax ran in, shaking his bells, and followed by the nursery +mummers. The performance was most successful. It was by no means +pathetic, and yet, as has been said, the Captain's wife shed tears. + +"What is the matter, mamma?" said St. George, abruptly dropping his +sword and running up to her. + +"Don't tease mamma with questions," said the Captain; "she is not very +well, and rather sad. We must all be very kind and good to poor, dear +mamma;" and the Captain raised his wife's hand to his lips as he spoke. +Robin seized the other hand and kissed it tenderly. He was very fond of +his mother. At this moment Pax took a little run and jumped on to +mamma's lap, where, sitting facing the company, he opened his black +mouth and yawned with a ludicrous inappropriateness worthy of any clown. +It made everybody laugh. + +"And now we'll go and act in the kitchen," said Nicholas. + +"Supper at nine o'clock, remember," shouted the Captain. "And we are +going to have real frumenty and Yule-cakes, such as mamma used to tell +us of when we were abroad." + +"Hurray!" shouted the mummers, and they ran off, Pax leaping from his +seat just in time to hustle the Black Prince in the doorway. + +When the dining-room door was shut, St. George raised his hand, and +said, "Hush!" + +The mummers pricked their ears, but there was only a distant harsh and +scraping sound, as of stones rubbed together. + +"They're cleaning the passages," St. George went on; "and Sarah told me +they meant to finish the mistletoe, and have everything cleaned up by +supper-time. They don't want us, I know. Look here; we will go real +mumming, instead. That will be fun!" + +The Valiant Slasher grinned with delight. + +"But will mamma let us?" he inquired. + +"Oh, it will be all right if we are back by supper-time," said St. +George, hastily. "Only, of course, we must take care not to catch cold. +Come and help me to get some wraps." + +The old oak chest in which spare shawls, rugs, and coats were kept was +soon ransacked, and the mummers' gay dresses hidden by motley wrappers. +But no sooner did Darkie and Pax behold the coats, etc., than they at +once began to leap and bark, as it was their custom to do when they saw +any one dressing to go out. + +Robin was sorely afraid that this would betray them; but, though the +Captain and his wife heard the barking, they did not guess the cause. +So, the front door being very gently opened and closed, the nursery +mummers stole away. + + +VII. + +It was a very fine night. The snow was well trodden on the drive, so +that it did not wet their feet, but on the trees and shrubs it hung soft +and white. + +"It's much jollier being out at night than in the daytime," said Robin. + +"Much," responded Nicholas, with intense feeling. + +"We'll go a wassailing next week," said Robin. "I know all about it; and +perhaps we shall get a good lot of money, and then we'll buy tin swords +with scabbards for next year. I don't like these sticks. Oh, dear, I +wish it wasn't so long between one Christmas and another." + +"Where shall we go first?" asked Nicholas, as they turned into the +high-road. But before Robin could reply, Dora clung to Nicholas, crying, +"Oh, look at those men!" + +The boys looked up the road, down which three men were coming in a very +unsteady fashion, and shouting as they rolled from side to side. + +"They're drunk," said Nicholas; "and they're shouting at us." + +"Oh, run, run!" cried Dora; and down the road they ran, the men shouting +and following them. They had not run far, when Hector caught his foot in +the Captain's great-coat which he was wearing, and came down headlong in +the road. They were close by a gate, and when Nicholas had set Hector on +his legs, St. George hastily opened it. + +"This is the first house," he said. "We'll act here;" and all, even the +Valiant Slasher, pressed in as quickly as possible. Once safe within the +grounds, they shouldered their sticks and resumed their composure. + +"You're going to the front door," said Nicholas. "Mummers ought to go to +the back." + +"We don't know where it is," said Robin, and he rang the front-door +bell. There was a pause. Then lights shone, steps were heard, and at +last a sound of much unbarring, unbolting, and unlocking. It might have +been a prison. Then the door was opened by an elderly, timid-looking +woman, who held a tallow candle above her head. + +"Who's there," she said, "at this time of night?" + +"We're Christmas mummers," said Robin, stoutly; "we didn't know the way +to the back door, but----" + +"And don't you know better than to come here?" said the woman. "Be off +with you, as fast as you can!" + +"You're only the servant," said Robin. "Go and ask your master and +mistress if they wouldn't like to see us act. We do it very well." + +"You impudent boy, be off with you!" repeated the woman. "Master'd no +more let you nor any other such rubbish set foot in this house----" + +"Woman!" shouted a voice close behind her, which made her start as if +she had been shot, "who authorizes you to say what your master will or +will not do, before you ask him? The boy is right. You are the servant, +and it is not your business to choose for me whom I shall or shall not +see." + +"I meant no harm, sir, I'm sure," said the house-keeper; "but I thought +you'd never----" + +"My good woman," said her master, "if I had wanted somebody to think for +me, you're the last person I should have employed. I hire you to obey +orders, not to think." + +"I'm sure, sir," said the house-keeper, whose only form of argument was +reiteration, "I never thought you would have seen them----" + +"Then you were wrong," shouted her master. "I will see them. Bring them +in." + +He was a tall, gaunt old man, and Robin stared at him for some minutes, +wondering where he could have seen somebody very like him. At last he +remembered. It was the old gentleman of the blue cloak. + +The children threw off their wraps, the house-keeper helping them, and +chatting ceaselessly, from sheer nervousness. + +"Well, to be sure," said she, "their dresses are pretty, too, and they +seem quite a better sort of children; they talk quite genteel. I might +ha' knowed they weren't like common mummers, but I was so flustered +hearing the bell go so late, and----" + +"Are they ready?" said the old man, who had stood like a ghost in the +dim light of the flaring tallow candle, grimly watching the proceedings. + +"Yes, sir. Shall I take them to the kitchen sir----" + +"For you and the other idle hussies to gape and grin at? No. Bring them +to the library," he snapped, and then he stalked off, leading the way. + +The house-keeper accordingly led them to the library and then withdrew, +nearly falling on her face as she left the room by stumbling over +Darkie, who clipped in last like a black shadow. + +The old man was seated in a carved oak chair by the fire. + +"I never said the dogs were to come in," he said. + +"But we can't do without them, please," said Robin, boldly. "You see, +there are eight people in 'The Peace Egg,' and there are only five of +us; and so Darkie has to be the Black Prince, and Pax has to be the +Fool, and so we have to have them." + +"Five and two make seven," said the old man, with a grim smile; "what do +you do for the eighth?" + +"Oh, that's the little one at the end," said Robin, confidentially. +"Mamma said we weren't to mention him, but I think that's because we're +children. You're grown up, you know, so I'll show you the book, and you +can see for yourself," he went on, drawing "The Peace Egg" from his +pocket. "There, that's the picture of him on the last page; black, with +horns and a tail." + +The old man's stern face relaxed into a broad smile as he examined the +grotesque wood-cut; but, when he turned to the first page, the smile +vanished in a deep frown, and his eyes shone like hot coals, with +anger. He had seen Robin's name. + +"Who sent you here?" he asked, in a hoarse voice. "Speak, and speak the +truth! Did your mother send you here?" + +Robin thought the old man was angry with them for playing truant. He +said slowly, "N--no. She didn't exactly send us; but I don't think +she'll mind our having come if we get back in time for supper. Mamma +never forbid our going mumming, you know." + +"I don't suppose she ever thought of it," Nicholas said, candidly, +wagging his curly head from side to side. + +"She knows we're mummers," said Robin, "for she helped us. When we were +abroad, you know, she used to tell us about the mummers acting at +Christmas when she was a little girl. And so we acted to papa and mamma, +and so we thought we'd act to the maids, but they were cleaning the +passages, and so we thought we'd really go mumming; and we've got +several other houses to go to before supper-time. We'd better begin, I +think," said Robin, and without more ado he began to march round and +round, raising his sword and shouting,-- + + "I am St. George, who from Old England sprung, + My famous name throughout the world hath rung." + +And the performance went off quite as creditably as before. + +As the children acted, the old man's anger wore off. He watched them +with an interest he could not repress. When Nicholas took some hard +thwacks from St. George without flinching, the old man clapped his +hands; and, after the encounter between St. George and the Black Prince, +he said he would not have the dogs excluded on any consideration. It was +just at the end, when they were all marching round and round, holding on +by each other's swords "over the shoulder," and singing "A mumming we +will go, etc.," that Nicholas suddenly brought the circle to a +stand-still by stopping dead short and staring up at the wall before +him. + +"What are you stopping for?" said St. George, turning indignantly round. + +"Look there!" cried Nicholas, pointing to a little painting which hung +above the old man's head. + +Robin looked, and said, abruptly, "It's Dora." + +"Which is Dora?" asked the old man, in a strange, sharp tone. + +"Here she is," said Robin and Nicholas in one breath, as they dragged +her forward. + +"She's the Doctor," said Robin; "and you can't see her face for her +things. Dor, take off your cap and pull back that hood. There! Oh, it +is like her!" + +It was a portrait of her mother as a child; but of this the nursery +mummers knew nothing. + +The old man looked as the peaked cap and hood fell away from Dora's face +and fair curls and then he uttered a sharp cry and buried his head upon +his hands. The boys stood stupefied, but Dora ran up to him and, putting +her little hands on his arms, said, in childish, pitying tones, "Oh, I +am so sorry! Have you got a headache? May Robin put the shovel in the +fire for you? Mamma has hot shovels for her headaches." And, though the +old man did not speak or move, she went on coaxing him and stroking his +head, on which the hair was white. At this moment Pax took one of his +unexpected runs and jumped on the old man's knee, in his own particular +fashion, and then yawned at the company. The old man was startled, and +lifted his face suddenly. + +It was wet with tears. + +"Why, you're crying!" exclaimed the children, with one breath. + +"It's very odd," said Robin, fretfully. "I can't think what's the matter +to-night. Mamma was crying, too, when we were acting; and papa said we +weren't to tease her with questions; and he kissed her hand, and I +kissed her hand, too. And papa said we must all be very kind to poor, +dear mamma; and so I mean to be, she's so good. And I think we'd better +go home, or perhaps she'll be frightened," Robin added. + +"She's so good, is she?" asked the old man. He had put Pax off his knee +and taken Dora on to it. + +"Oh, isn't she!" said Nicholas, swaying his curly head from side to side +as usual. + +"She's always good," said Robin, emphatically; "and so's papa. But I'm +always doing something I oughtn't to," he added, slowly. "But then you +know I don't pretend to obey Sarah. I don't care a fig for Sarah; and I +won't obey any woman but mamma." + +"Who's Sarah?" asked the grandfather. + +"She's our nurse," said Robin; "and she tells--I mustn't say what she +tells,--but it's not the truth. She told one about you the other day," +he added. + +"About me?" said the old man. + +"She said you were our grandpapa. So then I knew she was telling 'you +know what.'" + +"How did you know it wasn't true?" the old man asked. + +"Why, of course," said Robin, "if you were our mamma's father, you'd +know her, and be fond of her, and come and see her. And then you'd be +our grandfather, too, and you'd have us to see you, and perhaps give us +Christmas-boxes. I wish you were," Robin added, with a sigh; "it would +be very nice." + +"Would you like it?" asked the old man of Dora. + +And Dora, who was half asleep and very comfortable, put her little arms +about his neck as she was wont to put them round the Captain's, and +said, "Very much." + +He put her down at last, very tenderly, almost unwillingly, and left the +children alone. By-and-by he returned, dressed in the blue cloak, and +took Dora up again. + +"I will see you home," he said. + +The children had not been missed. The clock had only just struck nine +when there came a knock on the door of the dining-room, where the +Captain and his wife sat still by the Yule-log. She said "Come in," +wearily, thinking it was the frumenty and the Christmas cakes. + +But it was her father, with her child in his arms! + + +VIII. + +Lucy Jane Bull and her sisters were quite old enough to understand a +good deal of grownup conversation when they overheard it. Thus, when a +friend of Mrs. Bull's observed, during an afternoon call, that she +believed that "officers wives were very dressy," the young ladies were +at once resolved to keep a sharp lookout for the Captain's wife's bonnet +in church on Christmas day. + +The Bulls had just taken their seats when the Captain's wife came in. +They really would have hid their faces, and looked at the bonnet +afterwards, but for the startling sight that met the gaze of the +congregation. The old grandfather walked into the church abreast of the +Captain. + +"They've met in the porch," whispered Mr. Bull, under the shelter of his +hat. + +"They can't quarrel publicly in a place of worship," said Mrs. Bull, +turning pale. + +"She's gone into his seat," cried Lucy Jane, in a shrill whisper. + +"And the children after her," added the other sister, incautiously +aloud. + +There was no doubt about the matter. The old man, in his blue cloak, +stood for a few moments politely disputing the question of precedence +with his handsome son-in-law. Then the Captain bowed and passed in, and +the old man followed him. + +By the time that the service was ended everybody knew of the happy +peace-making, and was glad. One old friend after another came up with +blessings and good wishes. This was a proper Christmas, indeed, they +said. There was a general rejoicing. + +But only the grandfather and his children knew that it was hatched from +"The Peace Egg." + + + + + _By a Bavarian Comrade._ + + + "Over his tumbler of Gukguk he + sat reading journals, sometimes + contemplatively looking into + the clouds of his tobacco-pipe: + an agreeable phenomenon,--more + especially when he opened + his lips for speech." + + _Carlyle._ + + + + +A STORY OF NUREMBERG. + + +It was a Christmas eve in the beginning of the sixteenth century, and +through the streets of Nuremberg came drifting a feathery snow that +heaped itself in fantastic patterns on the projecting windows and +fretted stone balconies of the quaint and crowded houses. It was not an +honest and single-minded snow-storm, such as would seek to shroud the +whole city in its delicate white mantle, but rather a tricksy and +capricious sprite, that neglected one spot to hurl itself with wanton +violence on another. Borne on the breath of a keen and shifting wind, it +came tossing gleefully full in the face of a solitary artisan who, +wrapped in a heavy cloak, was making the best of his way homeward. Truly +it was not a pleasant night to be abroad, with the snow-drifts dancing +in your eyes like a million of tiny arrow-points, and the sharp wind +cutting like a knife; and the wayfarer was consoling himself for his +present discomfort by picturing the warm fireside and the hot supper +that awaited him at home, when his cheerful dreams were broken by a +sharp cry that seemed to come from under his very feet. + +Startled, and not a little alarmed, he checked his rapid walk and +listened. There was no mistaking the sound: it was neither imp nor +fairy, but a real child, from whose little lungs came forth that wail at +once pitiful and querulous. As he heard it, Peter Burkgmaeier's kindly +heart flew with one rapid bound to the cradle at home where slumbered +his own infant daughter, and, hastily lowering his lantern, he searched +under the dark archway whence the cry had come. There, sheltered by the +wall and wrapped in a ragged cloak, was a baby boy, perhaps between two +and three years old, but so tiny and emaciated as to seem hardly half +that age. When the lantern flickered in his face he gave a frightened +sob, and then lay quiet and exhausted in the strong arms that held him. + +"Poor little wretch!" said the man. "Abandoned on Christmas eve to die +in the snow!" And wrapping the child more closely in his own mantle, he +hurried on until he reached his home, from whose latticed panes shone +forth a cheerful stream of light. His wife, with her baby on her breast, +met him at the door, and stared with a not unnatural amazement as her +husband unrolled his cloak and showed her the boy, who, blinking +painfully at the sudden light, tried to struggle down from his arms. + +"See, Lisbeth!" he said, "I have found you a Christmas present where I +least expected one--an unhappy baby left in the streets to die of cold +and hunger." + +His wife laid her own infant in the cradle and gazed alternately at her +husband and at the child he carried. She was at all times slow to +receive impressions, and slower yet to put her thoughts into words. When +she spoke, it was without apparent emotion of any kind. "What are you +going to do with him, Peter?" she said. + +"What am I going to do with him?" was the reply. "I am going to feed and +clothe and shelter him, and make an honest man out of him, please God. +It cannot be that you would refuse the poor child a home?" + +Lisbeth made no answer. She was a large, fair, sleepy-eyed woman, who +had been accounted a beauty in her day. A model wife, too, people said; +neat in dress, quiet of tongue, her conduct staid, her whole thoughts +centred in her household. She now took the boy, noting with a woman's +eye his coarse and ragged clothing, and stood him on his unsteady little +feet. A faint expression of disgust rippled over her smooth, unthinking +face. + +"He is a humpback," she said, slowly. + +Her husband started to his feet. In all ages physical deformity has been +a thing repulsive to our eyes; but at this early day it was regarded +with unmixed horror and aversion, and was too often considered as the +index of a crooked mind within. Peter Burkgmaeier, tall and erect, with a +frame of iron and sinews of steel, as became a master stone-mason, stood +gazing at the poor little atom of misshapen humanity who tottered over +the polished wooden floor. The spinal column was sadly bent, and from +between the humped shoulders the pale face peered with an old, uncanny +look. Yet the boy was not otherwise ugly. His forehead was broad and +smooth, and his dark blue eyes were well and deeply set. The artisan +watched him for a minute in painful silence, then turned to his wife and +took her passive hand in his. + +"Lisbeth," he said, with grave kindness, "I know that I am asking a +great deal of you when I beg you to take this child under our roof. He +will be to you much care and trouble, and may never find his way into +your heart. At any other time, believe me, I would not put this burden +on your shoulders. But it is Christmas eve, and were I to refuse a +shelter to this helpless baby I would feel like one of those who had no +room within their inns for the Holy Child. Dear wife, will you not +receive him for love of me and of God, and let him share with little +Kala in your care?" + +Lisbeth's only reply was one characteristic of the woman. She was moved +by her husband's appeal, against what she considered her better +judgment; and without a single word she picked up the boy from the floor +and laid him in the cradle by the side of her own little daughter. Then, +with a smile--and her smiles came but rarely--she proceeded to carry off +Peter's wet cloak and to bring in his supper. So with this mute assent +the matter was settled, and the deformed child was received into the +stone-mason's family. + +And in a different way he became the source of much gratification to +both husband and wife. The first regarded him with real kindness and an +almost fatherly affection, for the boy soon began to manifest a quick +intelligence and a winning gentleness that might readily have found +their way into a harder heart. Lisbeth, too, had her reward; for it was +sweet to her soul to hear her neighbors say, as they stopped to watch +the two children playing in the doorway: "Ah! Lisbeth, it is not many a +woman who would take the care you do of a wretched little humpback like +that;" or, "It was a lucky chance for the poor child that threw him +into such hands as yours, Mistress Burkgmaeier;" or, "Did ever little +Kala look so fair and straight as when she had that crooked boy by her +side?" + +And did not the good pastor from the Frauenkirche say to her, with tears +starting in his gentle eyes: "God will surely reward you for your +kindness to this helpless little one?" Nay, better yet, did not the +Stadtholder's lady lean out from her beautiful carriage, and say before +three of the neighbors, who were standing by and heard every word: "You +are a good woman, Mistress Burkgmaeier, to take the same care of this +miserable child as of your own pretty little daughter"?--which was +something to be really proud of; for, whereas it was the obvious duty of +a priest to admire a virtuous act, it was not often that a noble lady +deigned thus to express her approbation. + +Yes, Lisbeth felt, as she listened serenely to all this praise--surely +so well merited--that there was some compensation in the world for such +charitable deeds as hers, even when they involved a fair amount of +sacrifice. And little Gabriel, before whom many of these remarks were +uttered, pondered over them in secret, and gradually evolved three facts +from the curious puzzle of his life--first, that he did not really +belong to what seemed to be his home; second, that he was not loved in +it as was Kala; third, that Kala was pretty and he was ugly. So with +these three melancholy scraps of knowledge the poor child began his +earthly education. + +And Kala was very pretty. Tall and strong-limbed, with her mother's +beautiful hair and skin, and with her mother's clear, meaningless blue +eyes, the little girl attracted attention wherever she was seen. No +better foil to her vigorous young beauty could have been found than the +pale, misshapen boy whom all the world called ugly. The children played +together under Lisbeth's watchful eye, and Gabriel in all things yielded +to his companion's imperious will, so that peace reigned ever over their +sports. But when Sigmund Wahnschaffe, the son of the bronze-worker in +the neighboring street, joined them, then Kala would have no more of +Gabriel's company. For Sigmund was strong as a young Hercules and +surpassed all the other lads in their boyish games. When he would play +with her, Kala turned her back ungratefully upon the patient companion +of her idler moments, who was fain to watch in silence the pleasures he +might not share. + +Yet from Sigmund she met no easy compliance with her wishes. His will +was a law not to be disputed, and once, when she had ventured to assert +herself in rebellious fashion, he promptly maintained his precedence by +pushing her into the mud. Kala began to cry, and, like a flash, Gabriel, +in a storm of rage, flung himself upon the older boy, only to be shaken +off as a feather into the same muddy gutter. It was over in a minute, +nor would Sigmund deign to further punish the little humpback who had +been ridiculous enough to attack him. Serenely unmoved he strolled away, +while Kala and Gabriel went sadly home together, to be both well scolded +for the ruin of their clothes and sent supperless to bed; Lisbeth +priding herself, above all things, on the strictly impartial character +of her retributive justice. + +But Gabriel had at least one pastime which could be shared with none, +and which bade fair to recompense him for all the childish sports he was +denied. With a small block of wood and a few simple tools his skilful +fingers wrought such wonders that Kala and Sigmund, and the very +children who hooted at him in the street, could not withhold their +admiration,--sometimes a brooding dove with pretty, ruffled plumage; +sometimes the head and curving horns of a mountain chamois, instinct +with graceful life; sometimes a group of snails, each tiny spiral +reproduced with loving accuracy in the hard grained wood. To Peter +Burkgmaeier these evidences of a talent then in such high repute gave +most unbounded satisfaction. His own trade was far too severe for the +boy's frail strength, but wood-carving was fully as profitable, and +might lead to wealth and fame. Had not Veit Stoss, of whose genius +Nuremberg felt justly proud, already finished his wonderful group of +angels saluting the Virgin, which hung from the roof of St. Lorenz? With +such an example before him, what might not the boy hope to achieve +through talent and persevering labor? And Gabriel felt his own heart +burn as he looked with wistful eyes upon that masterpiece of rare and +delicate carving. + +Nuremberg was then alive with the spirit of art, and everywhere he +turned there was something beautiful to quicken his pulse and feed the +flame within his soul, that was half rapture and half bitterness. No +idle boast was the old rhyme,-- + + "Nuremberg's hand + Goes through every land." + +For the city's renown had spread far and wide, and in its many branches +of industry, as well as in the higher walks of art, it had reached the +zenith of its fame. Already, indeed, the canker-worm was gnawing at the +root, and unerring retribution was creeping on a blinded people; but no +sign of the future was manifested in the universal prosperity of the +day. Every street furnished its food for the artist's soul: the +Frauenkirche, enriched with the loving gifts of devout generations; St. +Sebald's, with its carved portal, its stained windows, its treasures of +bronze, and, above all, the shrine where Peter Vischer and his sons +labored for thirteen years. Gabriel loved St. Sebald's dearly, but +closer still to his heart was the majestic church of St. Lorenz, where, +in sharp relief against the dull red pillars, rose that dream in stone, +the Sacrament House of Adam Krafft, its slender, fretted spire springing +to the very roof, clasped in the embrace of the curling vine tendrils +carved around it. + +Here the boy would linger for hours, never weary of studying every +detail of this faultless shrine. With envious eyes he gazed upon the +kneeling figures of Adam Krafft and his two fellow-laborers, who, carved +in stone, now supported the treasure their hands had wrought. Surely +this was the crowning summit of human ambition--to live thus forever in +the house of God, and before the eyes of men, a part of the very work +which had ennobled the artist's life. Ah! if he, the despised humpback, +could but descend to posterity immortalized by the labor of his hands. +What to the dreaming lad was the picture of Adam Krafft dying in a +hospital, poor, unfriended, and alone, in the midst of a city his genius +had enriched? What was it to him that Nuremberg, which now heaped honors +on the dead, had denied bread to the living? Such bitter truths come not +to the young. They are the heritage of age, and Gabriel was but a boy, +with all a boy's fond hopes and aspirations. Often as he studied the +graceful beauty of the Sacrament House, where, cut in the pure white +stone, he saw the Last Supper and Christ blessing little children, he +wondered whether among those Jewish boys and girls was one who, deformed +and repulsive to the eye, yet felt the Saviour's loving touch and was +comforted. + +A few more years rolled by, and each succeeding spring saw Kala taller +and prettier, and Gabriel working harder still at his laborious art. Not +so engrossed, however, but that he knew that Kala was fair, and that +when her soft fingers touched his a swift and sudden fire leaped through +his heart. Kala's beauty lurked in his dreams by night and in his long, +solitary days of toil, and became the motive power of all his best +endeavors. If he should gain wealth, it would be but to lay it at her +feet. If he, the desolate waif, should win fame and distinction, it +would be but to gild her name with his. Surely these things must be +some recompense in a woman's eyes for a pale face and a stunted form; +and Gabriel, lost in foolish dreams, worked on. + +Sigmund Wahnschaffe, too, had grown into early manhood and had adopted +his father's calling. Strong arms were as useful in their way as a +creative brain, and if Sigmund could never be an artist like Peter +Vischer, he promised at least to make an excellent workman. People said +he was the handsomest young artisan in Nuremberg, with his dark skin +bronzed by the fires among which he labored, and his black eyes +sparkling with a keen and merry light. Times had changed since the day +he pushed little Kala into the mud, and he looked upon her now as some +frail and delicate blossom, that to handle would be desecration. Yet +Kala was no rare flower, but a common plant, with nothing remarkable +about her except her beauty; and, once married, Sigmund would be prompt +enough to recognize this fact. Gabriel, with a chivalrous and +imaginative soul, might perhaps retain his ideal unbroken till his +death; but in the young bronze-worker's practical mind ideals had no +place, and his bride would slip naturally into the post of housewife, +from whom nothing more exalted would be demanded than thrifty habits and +a cheerful temper. + +And Kala knew perfectly that both these young men loved her, and that +one day she would be called upon to choose between them, between +Sigmund, strong, handsome, and resolute, with a laugh and a gay word for +all who met him; and Gabriel, dwarfed and silent, who had caught the +trick of melancholy in his unloved childhood and could not shake it off. +But it was not merely the sense of physical deformity that saddened +Gabriel's soul. The air he breathed was filled with a subtle spirit of +discord; for upon Nuremberg, with her many churches and monuments of +mediaeval art, the Reformation had laid its chilling hand. Its influence +was felt on every side--in art, where the joyous simplicity of +Wohlgemuth had given place to the fantastic melancholy of Albrecht +Duerer, fit imprint of a troubled and storm-tossed mind; as well as in +literature, where the bitter raillery and coarse jests of Hans Sachs, +the cobbler-poet, now passed with swift approval from mouth to mouth. + +The day had not yet come when Nuremberg, in her blind arrogance, was to +close her gates upon those who had given her life and fame; but already +were heard the first faint murmurs of the approaching storm. What wonder +that Gabriel shrank from the darkening future, and that men like Peter +Burkgmaeier, pondering with set mouths and frowning brows, were slowly +making up their minds that the city which had been their birthplace +should never shelter their old age. But Lisbeth went stolidly about the +daily routine of her life; Kala's smiles were as bright and as frequent +as ever; and Sigmund troubled himself not at all with matters beyond his +ken. + +Winter had set in early, and already November had brought in its train +snow and biting winds, and the promise of severe cold to come. It was a +busy season for the bronze-workers, and Sigmund toiled unceasingly, his +cheerful thoughts giving zest to his labors and new strength to his +mighty arm. For did not each evening see him by Kala's side, and had she +not, after months of vain coquetting, at last fairly yielded up her +heart? + +"Kala will make a good wife," said Lisbeth, proudly. "And she goes not +empty-handed to her husband's house." + +"They are a well-matched pair," said Peter, meditatively. "Health and +beauty and dulness are no mean heritage in these troubled times." + +And though the neighbors hesitated to call the young couple dull, they +one and all agreed that the marriage was a suitable one, and that they +had long foreseen it. "Why, they were little lovers in childhood, even!" +said Theresa, the wife of Johann Dyne, the toy-vender in the next +street; and Kala, who had perhaps forgotten the time when her +child-lover had knocked her into the gutter, smiled, and showed her +beautiful white teeth, and suffered the remark to pass uncontradicted. + +But even the most stolid of women have always some lurking tenderness +for those who they know have loved them vainly, and Kala, though she had +without a demur accepted Sigmund for her husband, yet broke the news to +Gabriel with much gentleness, and was greatly comforted by the apparent +composure with which it was received. He grew perhaps a trifle paler and +quieter than before, if such a thing were possible, and shut himself up +more resolutely with his work; but that was all. No one would have +dreamed that life with its fair promises had suddenly grown worthless in +his hands, and that the rich gifts which still were left him seemed as +nothing compared with the valueless treasure he had lost. Even his art +had become hateful, freighted as it was with dead hopes; and often, when +all believed him to be toiling in his little den, he was wandering +aimlessly through the streets of Nuremberg, seeking comfort in those +haunts which had once been to him as dear friends and companions. For +hours he would linger in the church of St. Lorenz, and then slowly make +his way to the Thiergarten Gate, where, along the Seilersgasse to the +churchyard, rise at regular intervals the seven stone pillars on which +Adam Krafft has carved, in beautiful bas-reliefs, scenes from the +Passion of the Lord. Years before the simple piety of a Nuremberg +citizen had erected these monuments of holy art, and their founder, +Martin Ketzel, had even travelled into Palestine, that he might measure +the exact distances of that most sorrowful journey from the house of +Pontius Pilate to the hill of Calvary. Heedless of the severe weather, +Gabriel visited daily these primitive stations, striving to forget his +own bitterness in the presence of a divine grief; and, laying his +troubled heart at his Saviour's feet, would return, strengthened and +comforted, into the busy city. + +Christmas now was drawing near, and with its approach a new resolve took +possession of his soul. A fresh light had dawned upon him, and, shaking +off his apathy, he started to work in earnest. All day long he toiled +with a steady purpose, though none were permitted to see the fruit of +his labors. Kala, indeed, unaccustomed to be thwarted in her curiosity, +presented herself at his work-shop door and implored admittance; but not +even to her was the secret revealed. + +"It is very unkind of you!" she pouted, hardly doubting that she would +gain her point. "You never kept anything from me in your life before." + +Gabriel took her hand and looked with strange, wistful eyes into her +pretty face. "I am keeping nothing from you now," he said. "It is your +wedding-gift that I am fashioning; but you must be content to wait its +completion before you see it. By Christmas it shall be your own." + +So Kala, comforted with the thought of future possession, bided her +time, and Gabriel was left in undisputed enjoyment of his solitude. At +first he worked languidly and with little zest; but from interest grew +ambition, and from ambition a passionate love for the labor of his +hands, which threw all other hopes and fears into the background. Kala +was forgotten, and Gabriel, absorbed in the contemplation of his art and +striving as he had never striven before, felt as though some power not +his own were working in him, and that the supreme effort of his life had +come. Yet ever in the midst of his feverish activity a strange weakness +seized and held him powerless in its grasp; and like a keen and sudden +pain came the bitter thought that he might die before his work was done. +Instinctively he felt that his hopes of future fame rested on these few +weeks that were flying pitilessly by, each one carrying with it some +portion of his wasted strength; and that if death should overtake him +with his labor uncompleted his name and memory must perish from the +world. So, like one who flies across a Russian steppe pursued by +starving wolves, Gabriel sped on his task, seeking to out-distance the +grim and noiseless wolf that followed close upon his track. + + * * * * * + +It was Christmas eve, the anniversary of that snowy night when Peter +Burkgmaeier had carried home the deformed child, and now all was bustle +and glad preparation in the stone-mason's household. Within three days +Kala was to be married, and Lisbeth, who felt that her reputation as +cook and housewife was at stake, spared neither time nor trouble in her +hospitable labors. Since early morning the great fires had roared in her +spacious kitchen, and all the poor who came to beg a Christmas bounty +tasted freely of her good cheer. With light heart and busy fingers Kala +assisted her mother, and doled out the bread and cakes--not too +lavishly--to the ragged children who clamored around the door; wondering +much in the meanwhile what trinket Sigmund would bring her with which to +deck herself on Christmas morning. + +And in his little room Gabriel stood looking at his finished work, and +asking himself if his heart spoke truly when it whispered: "You, too, +are great." It was sweet to realize that his task was done and that he +might rest at last; it was sweeter still to see in the bit of carved +wood before him the fulfilment of all his dearest dreams. So, while +daylight faded into dusk and evening into night, he sat lost in a maze +of tangled thoughts that crowded wearily through his listless brain. It +was now too dark for him to discern the image by his side, but from time +to time he laid his hand upon it with a gentle touch, as a mother might +caress a sleeping child, and was happy in its dumb companionship. + +How long he had been sitting thus he never knew, when suddenly out into +the frosty air rang the great bells of St. Lorenz, calling the faithful +to midnight Mass. + +Clearly and joyfully they pealed, as if their brazen tongues were +striving to utter in words their messages of good-will to men. Gabriel's +heart leaped at the sound, and a great yearning seized him to kneel once +more within those beloved walls, and amid their solemn beauty to adore +the new-born Babe. Jubilantly rang the bells, and their glad voices +seemed to speak to him as old friends, and with one accord to urge him +on. Weak and dizzy, he crept down the narrow stairs and out into the +bitter night. The sharp wind struck him in the face, and worried him as +it had worried years before the baby abandoned to its cruel embraces. +Yet with the appealing music of the bells ringing in his ears he never +thought of turning back, but struggled bravely onward until the frowning +walls of St. Lorenz rose up before him. Through the open doors poured a +little crowd of devotees, and Gabriel, entering, stole softly up to the +Sacrament House, where so often the carved Christ had looked with gentle +eyes upon his lonely childhood. + +Mass had begun, and the great church was hardly a third full, for +Nuremberg's weakening faith exempted her children from such untimely +services. But in the faces of the scattered worshippers there was +something never seen before--a grave severity, a solemn purpose, as when +men are banded together to resist in silence an advancing foe. Gabriel, +dimly conscious of this, strove to restrain his wandering thoughts, and +fixed his eyes upon the gleaming altar. But no prayer rose to his lips, +though into his heart came that deep sense of rest and contentment which +found an utterance long ago in the words of an apostle: "Lord, it is +good for us to be here." Like a child he had come to his Father's feet, +and, laying there his rejected human love, his ungratified human +ambition, he gained in their place the peace which passeth all +understanding. The two shadows which had mocked him during life vanished +into nothingness at the hour of death, and with clear eyes he saw the +value of an immortal soul. + +Mass was over, and the congregation moved slowly through the shadowy +aisles out into the starlit night. But Gabriel sat still, his head +resting against the stone pillar, his dead eyes fixed upon the Sacrament +House, and upon the sculptured Christ rising triumphant from the grave. + + * * * * * + +Four weeks had gone by since the body of the humpback had been carried +sorrowfully past the stations of the Seilersgasse into the quiet +churchyard beyond. The dusk of a winter evening shrouded the empty +streets when a stranger, of grave demeanor and in the prime of life, +knocked at the stone-mason's door. Kala opened it, and her father, +recognizing the visitor, rose with wondering respect to greet him. It +was Veit Stoss, the wood-carver, then at the zenith of his fame. With +quick, keen eyes he glanced around the homely room, taking in every +detail of the scene before him--Lisbeth weaving placidly by the fire; +Kala fair and blushing in the lamp-light; and Sigmund playing idly with +the crooked little turnspit at his feet. Then he turned to Peter, and +for a minute the two men stood looking furtively at one another, as +though each were trying to read his companion's thoughts. Finally, the +wood-carver spoke. + +"I grieve, Master Burkgmaeier," he said, with courteous sympathy, "that +you should have lost your foster-son, to whom report says you were much +attached. And I hear also that the young man promised highly in his +calling." + +"Then you heard not all," answered the stone-mason, slowly. "Gabriel did +more, for he fulfilled his promise." + +A sudden light came into the artist's eyes. "It is true, then," he said, +eagerly, "that the boy left behind him a rare piece of work, which has +not yet been seen outside these walls. I heard the rumor, but thought it +idle folly." + +Peter Burkgmaeier crossed the room and opened a deep cupboard. "You shall +see it," he said simply, "and answer for yourself. No one in Nuremberg +is more fit to judge." Then, lifting out something wrapped in a heavy +cloth, he carried it to the table, unveiled it with a reverent hand, +and, stepping back, waited in silence for a verdict. + +There was a long, breathless pause, broken only by the low whir of +Lisbeth's busy wheel. Veit Stoss stood motionless, while Peter's eyes +never stirred from the table before them. There, carved in the fair +white wood, rested the divine Babe, as on that blessed Christmas night +when his Mother "wrapped him up in swaddling-clothes and laid him in a +manger." The lovely little head nestled on its rough pillow as though on +Mary's bosom; the tiny limbs were relaxed in sleep; the whole figure +breathed at once the dignity of the Godhead and the pathetic +helplessness of babyhood. Instinctively one loved, and pitied, and +adored. Nor was this all. Every broken bit of straw that thrust its +graceful, fuzzy head from between the rough bars of the manger, every +twisted knot of grass, every gnarl and break in the wood itself, had +been wrought with the tender accuracy of the true artist, who finds +nothing too simple for his utmost care and skill. + +Veit Stoss drew a heavy breath and turned to his companion. "It is a +masterpiece," he said, gravely, "which I should be proud to call my own. +I congratulate you on the possession of so great a treasure." + +"It is not mine," returned the artisan, "but my daughter's. Gabriel +wrought it for her wedding-gift." + +The wood-carver's keen blue eyes scanned Kala's pretty, stolid face, +and then wandered to Sigmund's broad shoulders and mighty bulk. A faint, +derisive smile curled his well-cut lips. "Your daughter's beauty merits, +indeed, the rarest of all rare tokens," he said, slowly. "But perhaps +there are other things more needful to a young housewife than even this +precious bit of carving. If she will part with it I will pay her seventy +thalers, and it shall lie in St. Sebald's Church near my own Virgin, +that all may see its loveliness and remember the hand that fashioned +it." + +Seventy thalers! Sigmund dropped the dog and lifted his handsome head +with a look of blank bewilderment. Seventy thalers for a bit of wood +like that, when his own strong arms could not earn as much in months! He +stared at the little image in wondering perplexity, as though striving +to see by what mysterious process it had arrived at such a value; while +into his heart crept a thought strictly in keeping with his practical +nature. If the humpback could have produced work worth so much, what a +thousand pities he should die with only one piece finished! + +On Lisbeth, too, a revelation seemed to have fallen. Her wheel had +stopped, and in her mind she was rapidly running over a list of +household goods valued at seventy thalers. It was a mental calculation +quickly and cleverly accomplished; for Lisbeth was not slow in all +things, and years of thrift had taught her the full worth of money. +Instinctively she glanced at her husband and marvelled at his unmoved +face. + +"Your offer is a liberal one, Master Stoss," said Peter, gravely. "And I +rejoice to think that the poor lad's genius will be recognized. In him +Nuremberg would have had another famous son." + +"In him Nuremberg has now a famous son," corrected Veit Stoss, laying +his hand upon the statue. "No other proof of greatness can be needed." +With gentle care he replaced the cloth and lifted the precious burden in +his arms, when suddenly Kala sprang forward, her cheeks ablaze, her blue +eyes dark with anger. Transfigured for one instant into a new and +passionate beauty, she snatched the image from his hands. + +"It is mine!" she cried, fiercely; "mine! Gabriel loved me, and carved +it for me when he knew that he was dying. It was for me he did it, and +you shall not take it from me." + +She gathered it to her bosom with a low, broken cry, and darted from the +room. God only knows what late love, and pity, and remorse were working +in her breast. Veit Stoss turned softly to her father. "It is enough," +he said. "Your daughter has the prior right, and I came not here to +wrong her." + +And so the hand which had robbed Gabriel of love and life robbed him of +fame. For the statue which should have given joy to generations remained +unknown in the artisan's family. At first many came to see and wonder at +its beauty; but with the advent of a colder creed men wanted not such +tokens of a vanished fervor, and the little Christ-Child was soon +forgotten by the world. Perhaps Kala's sturdy grandchildren destroyed it +as a useless toy; perhaps it perished by fire, or flood, or evil +accident. No memory of it lingers in the streets of Nuremberg; and +Gabriel, lifted beyond the everlasting hills, knoweth the vanity of all +human wishes. + + + _The Italian Guest's Selection._ + + + "He is a Tuscan born, of an old + noble race in that part of Italy." + + _Hawthorne._ + + + +A PICTURE OF THE NATIVITY BY FRA FILIPPO LIPPI + + +AS EXPLAINED BY A PIOUS FLORENTINE GOSSIP OF HIS DAY. + + + +"Now, I cannot affirm that things did really take place in this manner, +but it greatly pleases me to think that they did."--FRA DOMENICO +CAVALCA: _Life of the Magdalen_. + + +The silly folks do not at all understand about the birth of our Lord. +They say that our Lord was born at Bethlehem, and because the inns were +all full, owing to certain feasts kept by those Jews, in a stable. But I +tell you this is an error, and due to little sense, for our Lord was +indeed placed in a manger, because none of the hostleries would receive +Joseph and the Blessed Virgin; but it took place differently. + +For you must know that beyond Bethlehem, which is a big village walled +and moated, of those parts, lies a hilly country, exceeding wild, and +covered with dense woods of firs, pines, larches, beeches, and similar +trees, which the people of Bethlehem cut down at times, going in bands, +and burn to charcoal, packing it on mules, to sell in the valley; or tie +together whole trunks such as serve for beams, rafters, and masts, and +float them down the rivers, which are many and very rapid. + +In these mountains, then, in the thickest part of the woods, a certain +man, of the wood-cutting trade, bethought him to build a house wherein +to store the timber and live, himself and his family, when so it pleased +him, and keep his beasts; and for this purpose he employed certain +pillars and pieces of masonry that stood in the forest, being remains of +a temple of the heathen, the which had long ceased to exist. And he +cleared the wood round about, leaving only tree stumps and bushes; and +close by in a ravine, between high fir-trees, ran a river, always full +to the brim even in midsummer, owing to the melting snows, and of +greenish waters, cold and rapid exceedingly; and around, up hill and +down dale, stretched the wood of firs, larches, pines, and other noble +and useful trees, emitting a very pleasant and virtuous fragrance. The +man thought to enjoy his house, and came with his family, and servants, +and horses, and mules, and oxen, which he had employed to carry down the +timber and charcoal. + +[Illustration: A Hilly country] + +But scarcely were they settled than an earthquake rent the place, +tearing wall from wall and pillar from pillar, and a voice was heard in +the air, crying, "Ecce domus domini dei." Whereupon they fled, +astonished and in terror, and returned into the town. + +And no one of that man's family ventured henceforth to return to that +wood, or to that house, save one called Hilarion, a poor lad and a +servant, but of upright heart and faith in the Lord, which offered to go +back and take his abode there, and cut down the trees and burn the +charcoal for his master. + +So he went, being a poor lad and poorly clad in leathern tunic and +coarse serge hood. And Hilarion took with him an ox and an ass to load +with charcoal and drive down to Bethlehem to his master. + +And the first night that Hilarion slept in that house, which was fallen +to ruin, only a piece of roof remaining, which he thatched with +pine-branches, he heard voices singing in the air, as of children, both +boys and maidens. But he closed his eyes and repeated a Paternoster, and +turned over and slept. And again, another night, he heard voices, and +knew the house to be haunted, and trembled. But, being clear of heart, +he said two Aves and went to sleep. And once more did he hear voices, +and they were passing sweet; and with them came a fragrance as of +crushed herbs, and many kinds of flowers, and frankincense, and +orris-root; and Hilarion shook, for he feared lest it be the heathen +gods, Mercury, or Macomet, or Apollinis. But he said his prayer and +slept. + +But at length, one night, as Hilarion heard those songs as usual, he +opened his eyes. And, behold! the place was light, and a great staircase +of light, like golden cobwebs, stretched up to heaven, and there were +angels going about in numbers, coming and going, with locks like +honeycomb, and dresses pink, and green, and sky-blue, and white, thickly +embroidered with purest pearls, and wings as of butterflies and +peacock's tails, with glories of solid gold about their head. And they +went to and fro, carrying garlands and strewing flowers, so that, +although mid-winter, it was like a garden in June, so sweet of roses, +and lilies, and gillyflowers. And the angels sang; and when they had +finished their work, they said, "It is well," and departed, holding +hands and flying into the sky above the fir-trees. + +And Hilarion wondered greatly, and said five Paters and six Aves. And +the next day, as he was cutting a fir-tree in the wood, there met him, +among the rocks, a man old, venerable, with a long gray beard and a +solemn air. And he was clad in crimson, and under his arm he carried +written books and a scourge. And Hilarion said,-- + +"Who art thou? for this forest is haunted by spirits, and I would know +whether thou be of them or of men." + +And the ancient made answer: "My name is Hieronymus. I am a wise man and +a king. I have spent all my days learning the secrets of things. I know +how the trees grow and waters run, and where treasure lies; and I can +teach thee what the stars sing, and in what manner the ruby and emerald +are smelted in the bowels of the earth; and I can chain the winds and +stop the sun, for I am wise above all men. But I seek one wiser than +myself, and go through the woods in search of him, my master." + +And Hilarion said: "Tarry thou here, and thou shalt see, if I mistake +not, him whom thou seekest." + +So the old man, whose name was Hieronymus, tarried in the forest and +built himself a hut of stones. + +And the day after that, as Hilarion went forth to catch fish in the +river, he met on the bank a lady, beautiful beyond compare, the which +for all clothing wore only her own hair, golden and exceeding long. And +Hilarion asked,-- + +"Who art thou? for this forest is haunted by spirits, and I would know +whether thou art one of such, and of evil intent, as the demon Venus, or +a woman like the mother who bore me." + +And the lady answered: "My name is Magdalen. I am a princess and a +courtesan, and the fairest woman that ever be. All day the princes and +kings of the earth have brought gifts to my house, and hung wreaths on +my roof, and strewed flowers in my yard; and the poets all day have sung +to their lutes, and all have lain groaning at my gates at night; for I +am beautiful beyond all creatures. But I seek one more beautiful than +myself, and go searching my master by the lakes and the rivers." + +And Hilarion made answer: "Tarry thou here, and thou shalt see, if I +mistake not, him whom thou seekest?" + +And the lady, whose name was Magdalen, tarried by the river and built +herself a cabin of reeds and leaves. And that night was the longest and +coldest of the winter. + +And Hilarion made for himself a bed of fern and hay in the stable of the +ox and the ass, and lay close to them for warmth. And, lo! in the middle +of the night the ass brayed and the ox bellowed, and Hilarion started +up. + +And he saw the heavens open with a great brightness as of beaten and +fretted gold, and angels coming and going, and holding each other by +the hand, and wreathed in roses, and singing "Gloria in Excelsis Deo, et +in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis." + +And Hilarion wondered and said ten Paters and ten Aves. + +And that day, towards noon, there came through the wood one bearing a +staff, and leading a mule, on which was seated a woman, that was near +unto her hour and moaning piteously. And they were poor folk and +travel-stained. + +And the man said to Hilarion: "My name is Joseph. I am a carpenter from +the city of Nazareth, and my wife is called Mary, and she is in travail. +Suffer thou us to rest, and my wife to lie on the straw of the stable." + +And Hilarion said: "You are welcome. Benedictus qui venit in nomine +domini;" and Hilarion laid down more fern and hay, and gave provender to +the mule. And the woman's hour came, and she was delivered of a male +child. And Hilarion took it and laid it in the manger. And he went forth +into the woods and found the ancient wizard Hieronymus, and the lady +Magdalen, and said,-- + +"Come with me to the ruined house, for truly there is He whom you be +seeking." + +And they followed him to the ruined house where the fir-trees were +cleared above the river; and they saw the babe lying in the manger, and +Hieronymus and Magdalen kneeled down, saying, "Surely this is He that is +our Master, for He is wiser and more fair than either." + +And the skies opened, and there came forth angels, such as Hilarion had +seen, with glories of solid gold round their heads, and garlands of +roses about their necks, and they took hands and danced, and sang, +flying up, "Gloria in Excelsis Deo." + + + + + _By The Stay-At-Home Traveller._ + + "He prepares to read by wiping + his spectacles, carefully adjusting + them on his eyes, and drawing + the candle close to him--is + very particular in having his + slippers ready for him at the + fire." + + _Hunt._ + + + + +MELCHIOR'S DREAM. + + +"Well, father, I don't believe the Browns are a bit better off than we +are; and yet, when I spent the day with young Brown, we cooked all sorts +of messes in the afternoon; and he wasted twice as much rum and brandy +and lemons in his trash as I should want to make good punch of. He was +quite surprised, too, when I told him that our mince-pies were kept shut +up in the larder, and only brought out at meal-times, and then just one +apiece; he said they had mince-pies always going, and he got one +whenever he liked. Old Brown never blows up about that sort of thing; he +likes Adolphus to enjoy himself in the holidays, particularly at +Christmas." + +The speaker was a boy--if I may be allowed to use the word in speaking +of an individual whose jackets had for some time past been resigned to a +younger member of his family, and who daily, in the privacy of his own +apartment, examined his soft cheeks by the aid of his sisters' +"back-hair glass." He was a handsome boy, too; tall, and like +David--"ruddy, and of a fair countenance;" and his face, though clouded +then, bore the expression of general amiability. He was the eldest son +in a large young family, and was being educated at one of the best +public schools. He did not, it must be confessed, think either small +beer or small beans of himself; and as to the beer and beans that his +family thought of him, I think it was pale ale and kidney-beans at +least. + +When the lords of the creation of all ages can find nothing else to do, +they generally take to eating and drinking; and so it came to pass that +our hero had set his mind upon brewing a jorum of punch, and sipping it +with an accompaniment of mince-pies; and Paterfamilias had not been +quietly settled to his writing for half an hour, when he was disturbed +by an application for the necessary ingredients. These he had refused, +quietly explaining that he could not afford to waste his French brandy, +etc., in school-boy cookery, and ending with, "You see the reason, my +dear boy?" + +To which the dear boy replied as above, and concluded with the +disrespectful (not to say ungrateful) hint, "Old Brown never blows up +about that sort of thing; he likes Adolphus to enjoy himself in the +holidays." + +Whereupon Paterfamilias made answer, in the mildly deprecating tone in +which the elder sometimes do answer the younger in these topsy-turvy +days:-- + +"That's quite a different case. Don't you see, my boy, that Adolphus +Brown is an only son, and you have nine brothers and sisters? If you +have punch and mince-meat to play with, there is no reason why Tom +should not have it, and James, and Edward, and William, and Benjamin, +and Jack. And then there are your sisters. Twice the amount of the +Browns' mince-meat would not serve you. The Christmas bills, too, are +very heavy, and I have a great many calls on my purse; and you must be +reasonable. Don't you see?" + +"Well, father----" began the boy; but his father interrupted him. He +knew the unvarying beginning of a long grumble, and dreading the +argument, cut it short. + +"I have decided. You must amuse yourself some other way. And just +remember that young Brown's is quite another case. He is an only son." + +Whereupon Paterfamilias went off to his study and his sermon; and his +son, like the Princess in Andersen's story of the swineherd, was left +outside to sing,-- + + _"O dearest Augustine, + All's clean gone away!"_ + +Not that he did say that--that was the princess's song--what he said +was,-- + +"_I wish I were an only son!_" + +This was rather a vain wish, for round the dining-room fire (where he +soon joined them) were gathered his nine brothers and sisters, who, to +say the truth, were not looking much more lively and cheerful than he. +And yet (of all days in the year on which to be doleful and +dissatisfied!) this was Christmas Eve. + +Now I know that the idea of dulness or discomfort at Christmas is a very +improper one, particularly in a story. We all know how every little boy +in a story-book spends the Christmas holidays. First, there is the large +hamper of good things sent by grandpapa, which is as inexhaustible as +Fortunatus's purse, and contains everything, from a Norfolk turkey to +grapes from the grandpaternal vinery. There is the friend who gives a +guinea to each member of the family, and sees who will spend it best. +There are the godpapas and godmammas, who might almost be fairy sponsors +from the number of expensive gifts that they bring upon the scene. The +uncles and aunts are also liberal. + +One night is devoted to a magic-lantern (which has a perfect focus), +another to the pantomime, a third to a celebrated conjurer, a fourth to +a Christmas tree and juvenile ball. + +The happy youth makes himself sufficiently ill with plum-pudding, to +testify to the reader how good it was, and how much there was of it; but +recovers in time to fall a victim to the negus and trifle at supper for +the same reason. He is neither fatigued with late hours, nor surfeited +with sweets; or if he is, we do not hear of it. + +But as this is a strictly candid history, I will at once confess the +truth, on behalf of my hero and his brothers and sisters. They had spent +the morning in decorating the old church, in pricking holly about the +house, and in making a mistletoe bush. Then in the afternoon they had +tasted the Christmas soup, and seen it given out; they had put a +finishing touch to the snowman by crowning him with holly, and had +dragged the yule-logs home from the carpenter's. And now, the early tea +being over, Paterfamilias had gone to finish his sermon for to-morrow; +his friend was shut up in his room; and Materfamilias was in hers, with +one of those painful headaches which even Christmas will not always keep +away. So the ten children were left to amuse themselves, and they found +it rather a difficult matter. + +"Here's a nice Christmas!" said our hero. He had turned his youngest +brother out of the arm-chair, and was now lying in it with his legs +over the side. "Here's a nice Christmas! A fellow might just as well be +at school. I wonder what Adolphus Brown would think of being cooped up +with a lot of children like this! It's his party to-night, and he's to +have champagne and ices. I wish I were an only son." + +"Thank you," said a chorus of voices from the floor. They were all +sprawling about on the hearth-rug, pushing and struggling like so many +kittens in a sack, and every now and then with a grumbled +remonstrance:-- + +"Don't, Jack! you're treading on me." + +"You needn't take all the fire, Tom." + +"Keep your legs to yourself, Benjamin." + +"It wasn't I," etc., with occasionally the feebler cry of a small +sister,-- + +"Oh! you boys are so rough." + +"And what are you girls, I wonder?" inquired the proprietor of the +arm-chair, with cutting irony. "Whiney piney, whiney piney. I wish there +were no such things as brothers and sisters!" + +"You _wish_ WHAT?" said a voice from the shadow by the door, as deep and +impressive as that of the ghost in Hamlet. + +The ten sprang up; but when the figure came into the firelight, they saw +that it was no ghost, but Paterfamilias's old college friend, who spent +most of his time abroad, and who, having no home or relatives of his +own, had come to spend Christmas at his friend's vicarage. "You wish +_what_?" he repeated. + +"Well, brothers and sisters are a bore," was the reply. "One or two +would be all very well; but just look, here are ten of us; and it just +spoils everything. Whatever one does, the rest must do; whatever there +is, the rest must share; whereas, if a fellow was an only son, he would +have the whole--and by all the rules of arithmetic, one is better than a +tenth." + +"And by the same rules, ten is better than one," said the friend. + +"Sold again!" sang out Master Jack from the floor, and went head over +heels against the fender. + +His brother boxed his ears with great promptitude; and went on--"Well, I +don't care; confess, sir; isn't it rather a nuisance?" + +Paterfamilias's friend looked very grave, and said quietly, "I don't +think I am able to judge. I never had brother or sister but one, and he +was drowned at sea. Whatever I have had, I have had the whole of, and +would have given it away willingly for some one to give it to. I +remember that I got a lot of sticks at last, and cut heads and faces to +all of them, and carved names on their sides, and called them my +brothers and sisters. If you want to know what I thought a nice number +for a fellow to have, I can only say that I remember carving +twenty-five. I used to stick them in the ground and talk to them. I have +been only, and lonely, and alone, all my life, and have never felt the +nuisance you speak of." + +"I know what would be very nice," insinuated one of the sisters. + +"What?" + +"If you wouldn't mind telling us a very short story till supper-time." + +"Well, what sort of a story is it to be?" + +"Any sort," said Richard; "only not too true, if you please. I don't +like stories like tracts. There was an usher at a school I was at, and +he used to read tracts about good boys and bad boys to the fellows on +Sunday afternoon. He always took out the real names, and put in the +names of the fellows instead. Those who had done well in the week, he +put in as good ones, and those who hadn't as the bad. He didn't like me, +and I was always put in as a bad boy, and I came to so many untimely +ends, I got sick of it. I was hanged twice, and transported once for +sheep stealing; I committed suicide one week, and broke into the bank +the next; I ruined three families, became a hopeless drunkard, and broke +the hearts of my twelve distinct parents. I used to beg him to let me +be reformed next week; but he said he never would till I did my Caesar +better. So, if you please, we'll have a story that can't be true." + +"Very well," said the friend, laughing; "but if it isn't true, may I put +you in? All the best writers, you know, draw their characters from their +friends, nowadays. May I put you in?" + +"Oh, certainly!" said Richard, placing himself in front of the fire, +putting his feet on the hob, and stroking his curls with an air which +seemed to imply that whatever he was put into would be highly favored. + +The rest struggled, and pushed, and squeezed themselves into more modest +but equally comfortable quarters; and after a few moments of thought, +Paterfamilias's friend commenced the story of + +MELCHIOR'S DREAM. + +"Melchior is my hero. He was--well, he considered himself a young man, +so we will consider him so too. He was not perfect; but in these days +the taste in heroes is for a good deal of imperfection, not to say +wickedness. He was not an only son. On the contrary, he had a great many +brothers and sisters, and found them quite as objectionable as my friend +Richard does." + +"I smell a moral," murmured the said Richard. + +"Your scent must be keen," said the story-teller, "for it is a long way +off. Well, he had never felt them so objectionable as on one particular +night, when the house being full of company, it was decided that the +boys should sleep in 'barracks,' as they called it; that is, all in one +large room." + +"Thank goodness we have not come to that!" said the incorrigible +Richard; but he was reduced to order by threats of being turned out, and +contented himself with burning the soles of his boots against the bars +of the grate in silence: and the friend continued: + +"But this was not the worst. Not only was he, Melchior, to sleep in the +same room with his brothers, but his bed being the longest and largest, +his youngest brother was to sleep at the other end of it--foot to foot. +True, by this means he got another pillow, for of course that little +Hop-o'-my-thumb could do without one, and so he took his; but in spite +of this, he determined that, sooner than submit to such an indignity, he +would sit up all night. Accordingly, when all the rest were fast asleep, +Melchior, with his boots off and his waistcoat easily unbuttoned, sat +over the fire in the long lumber-room, which served that night as +'barracks'. He had refused to eat any supper down-stairs to mark his +displeasure, and now repaid himself by a stolen meal according to his +own taste. He had got a pork-pie, a little bread and cheese, some large +onions to roast, a couple of raw apples, an orange, and papers of soda +and tartaric acid to compound effervescing draughts. When these dainties +were finished, he proceeded to warm some beer in a pan, with ginger, +spice, and sugar, and then lay back in his chair and sipped it slowly, +gazing before him, and thinking over his misfortunes. + +"The night wore on, the fire got lower and lower; and still Melchior +sat, with his eyes fixed on a dirty old print, that had hung above the +mantel-piece for years, sipping his 'brew,' which was fast getting cold. +The print represented an old man in a light costume, with a scythe in +one hand, and an hour-glass in the other; and underneath the picture in +flourishing capitals was the word TIME. + +"'You're a nice old beggar,' said Melchior, dreamily. 'You look like an +old haymaker, who has come to work in his shirt-sleeves, and forgotten +the rest of his clothes. Time! time you went to the tailor's, I think.' + +"This was very irreverent: but Melchior was not in a respectful mood; +and as for the old man, he was as calm as any philosopher. + +"The night wore on, and the fire got lower and lower, and at last went +out altogether. + +"'How stupid of me not to have mended it! said Melchior; but he had not +mended it, and so there was nothing for it but to go to bed; and to bed +he went accordingly. + +"'But I won't go to sleep,' he said; 'no, no; I shall keep awake, and +to-morrow they shall know that I have had a bad night.' + +"So he lay in bed with his eyes wide open, and staring still at the old +print, which he could see from his bed by the light of the candle, which +he had left alight on the mantel-piece to keep him awake. The flame +waved up and down, for the room was draughty; and, as the lights and +shadows passed over the old man's face, Melchior almost fancied that it +nodded to him, so he nodded back again; and as that tired him he shut +his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them again there was no +longer any doubt--the old man's head was moving; and not only his head, +but his legs, and his whole body. Finally, he put his feet out of the +frame, and prepared to step right over the mantel-piece, candle, and +all. + +"'Take care,' Melchior tried to say, 'you'll set fire to your shirt.' But +he could not utter a sound; and the old man arrived safely on the floor, +where he seemed to grow larger and larger, till he was fully the size of +a man, but still with the same scythe and hour-glass, and the same airy +costume. Then he came across the room, and sat down by Melchior's +bedside. + +"'Who are you?' said Melchior, feeling rather creepy. + +"'TIME,' said his visitor, in a deep voice, which sounded as if it came +from a distance. + +"'Oh, to be sure, yes! In copper plate capitals.' + +"'What's in copper-plate capitals?' inquired Time. + +"'Your name, under the print.' + +"'Very likely,' said Time. + +"Melchior felt more and more uneasy. 'You must be very cold,' he said. +'Perhaps you would feel warmer if you went back into the picture.' + +"'Not at all.' said Time; 'I have come on purpose to see you.' + +"'I have not the pleasure of knowing you,' said Melchior, trying to keep +his teeth from chattering. + +"'There are not many people who have a personal acquaintance with me,' +said his visitor. 'You have an advantage,--I am your godfather.' + +"'Indeed,' said Melchior; 'I never heard of it.' + +"'Yes,' said his visitor; 'and you will find it a great advantage.' + +"'Would you like to put on my coat?' said Melchior, trying to be civil. + +"'No, thank you,' was the answer. 'You will want it yourself. We must be +driving soon.' + +"'Driving!' said Melchior. + +"'Yes,' was the answer: 'all the world is driving; and you must drive; +and here come your brothers and sisters.' + +"Melchior sat up; and there they were, sure enough, all dressed, and +climbing one after the other on to the bed--_his_ bed! + +"There was that little minx of a sister with her curls. There was that +clever brother, with his untidy hair and bent shoulders, who was just as +bad the other way, and was forever moping and reading. There was that +little Hop-o'-my-thumb, as lively as any of them, a young monkey, the +worst of all; who was always in mischief, and consorting with the low +boys in the village. There was the second brother, who was Melchior's +chief companion, and against whom he had no particular quarrel. And +there was the little pale lame sister, whom he dearly loved; but whom, +odd to say, he never tried to improve at all. There were others who were +all tiresome in their respective ways; and one after the other they +climbed up. + +"'What are you doing, getting on to my bed?' inquired the indignant +brother, as soon as he could speak. + +"'Don't you know the difference between a bed and a coach, godson?' said +Time, sharply. + +"Melchior was about to retort, but, on looking round, he saw that they +were really in a large sort of coach with very wide windows. 'I thought +I was in bed,' he muttered. 'What can I have been dreaming of?' + +"'What, indeed!' said the godfather. 'But be quick, and sit close, for +you have all to get in; you are all brothers and sisters.' + +"'Must families be together?' inquired Melchior, dolefully. + +"'Yes, at first,' was the answer; 'they get separated in time. In fact, +every one has to cease driving sooner or later. I drop them on the road +at different stages, according to my orders,' and he showed a bundle of +papers in his hands; 'but as I favor you, I will tell you in confidence +that I have to drop all your brothers and sisters before you. There, you +four oldest sit on this side, you five others there, and the little one +must stand or be nursed.' + +"'Ugh!' said Melchior, 'the coach would be well enough if one was alone; +but what a squeeze with all these brats! I say, go pretty quick, will +you?' + +"'I will,' said Time, 'if you wish it. But beware that you cannot change +your mind. If I go quicker for your sake, I shall never go slow again; +if slower, I shall not again go quick; and I only favor you so far, +because you are my godson. Here, take the check-string; when you want +me, pull it, and speak through the tube. Now we're off.' + +"Whereupon the old man mounted the box, and took the reins. He had no +whip; but when he wanted to start, he shook the hour-glass, and off they +went. Then Melchior saw that the road where they were driving was very +broad, and so filled with vehicles of all kinds that he could not see +the hedges. The noise and crowd and dust were very great; and to +Melchior all seemed delightfully exciting. There was every sort of +conveyance, from the grandest coach to the humblest donkey-cart; and +they seemed to have enough to do to escape being run over. Among all the +gay people there were many whom he knew; and a very nice thing it seemed +to be to drive among all the grandees, and to show his handsome face at +the window, and bow and smile to his acquaintance. Then it appeared to +be the fashion to wrap one's self in a tiger-skin rug, and to look at +life through an opera-glass, and old Time had kindly put one of each +into the coach. + +"But here again Melchior was much troubled by his brothers and sisters. +Just at the moment when he was wishing to look most fashionable and +elegant, one or other of them would pull away the rug, or drop the +glass, or quarrel, or romp, or do something that spoiled the effect. In +fact, one and all, they 'just spoilt everything;' and the more he +scolded, the worse they became. The 'minx' shook her curls, and flirted +through the window with a handsome but ill-tempered looking man on a +fine horse, who praised her 'golden locks,' as he called them; and oddly +enough, when Melchior said that the man was a lout, and that the locks +in question were corkscrewy carrot shavings, she only seemed to like the +man and his compliments the more. Meanwhile, the untidy brother pored +over his book, or if he came to the window, it was only to ridicule the +fine ladies and gentlemen, so Melchior sent him to Coventry. Then +Hop-o'-my-thumb had taken to make signs and exchange jokes with some +disreputable-looking youths in a dog-cart; and when his brother would +have put him to 'sit still like a gentleman' at the bottom of the coach, +he seemed positively to prefer his low companions; and the rest were +little better. + +"Poor Melchior! Surely there never was a clearer case of a young +gentleman's comfort destroyed solely by other people's perverse +determination to be happy in their own way instead of in his. + +"At last he lost patience, and pulling the check-string, bade Godfather +Time drive as fast as he could. + +"Godfather Time frowned, but shook his glass all the same, and away they +went at a famous pace. All at once they came to a stop. + +"'Now for it,' said Melchior; 'here goes one at any rate.' + +"Time called out the name of the second brother over his shoulder; and +the boy stood up, and bade his brothers and sisters good-bye. + +"'It is time that I began to push my way in the world,' said he, and +passed out of the coach and in among the crowd. + +"'You have taken the only quiet boy,' said Melchior to the godfather, +angrily. 'Drive fast, now, for pity's sake; and let us get rid of the +tiresome ones.' + +"And fast enough they drove, and dropped first one and then the other; +but the sisters, and the reading boy, and the youngest still remained. + +"'What are you looking at?' said Melchior to the lame sister. + +"'At a strange figure in the crowd,' she answered. + +"'I see nothing,' said Melchior. But on looking again after a while, he +did see a figure wrapped in a cloak, gliding in and out among the +people, unnoticed, if not unseen. + +"'Who is it?' Melchior asked of the godfather. + +"'A friend of mine,' Time answered. 'His name is Death.' + +"Melchior shuddered, more especially as the figure had now come up to +the coach, and put its hand in through the window, on which, to his +horror, the lame sister laid hers and smiled. At this moment the coach +stopped. + +"'What are you doing?' shrieked Melchior. 'Drive on! drive on!' + +"But even while he sprang up to seize the check-string the door had +opened, the pale sister's face had dropped upon the shoulder of the +figure in the cloak, and he had carried her away; and Melchior stormed +and raved in vain. + +"'To take her, and to leave the rest! Cruel! cruel!' + +"In his rage and grief, he hardly knew it when the untidy brother was +called, and putting his book under his arm, slipped out of the coach +without looking to the right or left. Presently the coach stopped again; +and when Melchior looked up the door was open, and at it was the fine +man on the fine horse, who was lifting the sister on to the saddle +before him. 'What fool's game are you playing?' said Melchior, angrily. +'I know that man. He is both ill-tempered and a bad character.' + +"'You never told her so before,' muttered young Hop-o'-my-thumb. + +"'Hold your tongue,' said Melchior. 'I forbade her to talk to him, which +was enough.' + +"'I don't want to leave you; but he cares for me, and you don't,' sobbed +the sister; and she was carried away. + +"When she had gone, the youngest brother slid down from his corner and +came up to Melchior. + +"'We are alone now, brother,' he said; 'let us be good friends. May I +sit on the front seat with you, and have half the rug? I will be very +good and polite, and will have nothing more to do with those fellows, if +you will talk to me.' + +"Now Melchior really rather liked the idea; but as his brother seemed to +be in a submissive mood, he thought he would take the opportunity of +giving him a good lecture, and would then graciously relent and forgive. +So he began by asking him if he thought that he was fit company for him +(Melchior), what he thought that gentlefolks would say to a boy who had +been playing with such youths as young Hop-o'-my-thumb had, and whether +the said youths were not scoundrels? And when the boy refused to say +that they were, (for they had been kind to him,) Melchior said that his +tastes were evidently as bad as ever, and even hinted at the old +transportation threat. This was too much; the boy went angrily back to +his window corner, and Melchior--like too many of us!--lost the +opportunity of making peace for the sake of wagging his own tongue. + +"'But he will come round in a few minutes,' he thought. A few minutes +passed, however, and there was no sign. A few minutes more, and there +was a noise, a shout; Melchior looked up, and saw that the boy had +jumped through the open window into the road, and had been picked up by +the men in the dog-cart, and was gone. + +"And so at last my hero was alone. At first he enjoyed it very much. But +though every one allowed him to be the finest young fellow on the road, +yet nobody seemed to care for the fact as much as he did; they talked, +and complimented, and stared at him, but he got tired of it. Sometimes +he saw the youngest brother, looking each time more wild and reckless; +and sometimes the sister, looking more and more miserable; but he saw no +one else. + +"At last there was a stir among the people, and all heads were turned +towards the distance, as if looking for something. Melchior asked what +it was, and was told that the people were looking for a man, the hero of +many battles, who had won honor for himself and for his country in +foreign lands, and who was coming home. Everybody stood up and gazed, +Melchior with them. Then the crowd parted, and the hero came on. No one +asked whether he were handsome or genteel, whether he kept good company, +or wore a tiger-skin rug, or looked through an opera-glass? They knew +what he had _done_, and it was enough. + +"He was a bronzed, hairy man, with one sleeve empty, and a breast +covered with stars; but in his face, brown with sun and wind, overgrown +with hair, and scarred with wounds, Melchior saw his second brother! +There was no doubt of it. And the brother himself, though he bowed +kindly in answer to the greetings showered on him, was gazing anxiously +for the old coach, where he used to ride and be so uncomfortable, in +that time to which he now looked back as the happiest of his life. + +"'I thank you, gentlemen. I am indebted to you, gentlemen. I have been +away long. I am going home.' + +"'Of course he is!' shouted Melchior, waving his arms widely with pride +and joy. 'He is coming home; to this coach, where he was--oh, it seems +but an hour ago; Time goes so fast. We were great friends when we were +young together. My brother and I, ladies and gentlemen, the hero and +I--my brother--the hero with the stars upon his breast--he is coming +home!' + +"Alas! what avail stars and ribbons on a breast where the life-blood is +trickling slowly from a little wound? The crowd looked anxious; the hero +came on, but more slowly, with his dim eyes straining for the old coach; +and Melchior stood with his arms held out in silent agony. But just when +he was beginning to hope, and the brothers seemed about to meet, a +figure passed between--a figure in a cloak. + +"'I have seen you many times, friend, face to face,' said the hero; 'but +now I would fain have waited for a little while.' + +"'To enjoy his well-earned honors,' murmured the crowd. + +"'Nay,' he said, 'not that; but to see my home, and my brothers and +sisters. But if it may not be, friend Death, I am ready, and tired, +too.' With that he held out his hand, and Death lifted up the hero of +many battles like a child, and carried him away, stars, and ribbons, and +all. + +"'Cruel Death!' cried Melchior; 'was there no one else in all this +crowd, that you must take him?' + +"His friends condoled with him; but they soon went on their own ways; +and the hero seemed to be forgotten; and Melchior, who had lost all +pleasure in the old bowings and chattings, sat idly gazing out of the +window, to see if he could see any one for whom he cared. At last, in a +grave dark man, who was sitting on a horse, and making a speech to the +crowd, he recognized his clever untidy brother. + +"'What is that man talking about?' he asked of some one near him. + +"'That man!' was the answer. 'Don't you know? He is _the_ man of the +time. He is a philosopher. Everybody goes to hear him. He has found out +that--well--that everything is a mistake.' + +"'Has he corrected it?' said Melchior. + +"'You had better hear for yourself,' said the man. 'Listen.' + +"Melchior listened, and a cold, clear voice rang upon his ear, saying,-- + +"'The world of fools will go on as they have ever done; but to the wise +few, to whom I address myself, I would say, Shake off at once and +forever the fancies and feelings, the creeds and customs that shackle +you, and be true. We have come to a time when wise men will not be led +blindfold in the footsteps of their predecessors, but will tear away the +bandage, and see for themselves. I have torn away mine, and looked. +There is no Faith--it is shaken to its rotten foundation; there is no +Hope--it is disappointed every day; there is no Love at all. There is +nothing for any man or for each, but his fate; and he is happiest and +wisest who can meet it most unmoved.' + +"'It is a lie!' shouted Melchior. 'I feel it to be so in my heart. A +wicked, foolish lie! Oh! was it to teach such evil folly as this that +you left home and us, my brother? Oh, come back! come back!' + +"The philosopher turned his head coldly, and smiled. 'I thank the +gentleman who spoke,' he said, still in the same cold voice, 'for his +bad opinion, and for his good wishes. I think the gentleman spoke of +home and kindred. My experience of life has led me to find that home is +most valued when it is left, and kindred most dear when they are parted. +I have happily freed myself from such inconsistencies. I am glad to know +that fate can tear me from no place that I care for more than the next +where it shall deposit me, nor take away any friends that I value more +than those it leaves. I recommend a similar self-emancipation to the +gentleman who did me the honor of speaking.' + +"With this the philosopher went his way, and the crowd followed him. + +"'There is a separation more bitter than death,' said Melchior. + +"At last he pulled the check-string, and called to Godfather Time in an +humble, entreating voice. + +"'It is not your fault,' he began; 'it is not your fault, godfather; but +this drive has been altogether wrong. Let us turn back and begin again. +Let us all get in afresh and begin again.' + +"'But what a squeeze with all the brats!' said Godfather Time, +ironically. + +"'We should be so happy,' murmured Melchior, humbly; 'and it is very +cold and chilly; we should keep each other warm.' + +"'You have the tiger-skin rug and the opera-glass, you know,' said Time. + +"'Ah, do not speak of me!" cried Melchior, earnestly. 'I am thinking of +them. There is plenty of room; the little one can sit on my knee; and we +shall be so happy. The truth is, godfather, that I have been wrong. I +have gone the wrong way to work. A little more love, and kindness, and +forbearance might have kept my sisters with us, might have led the +little one to better tastes and pleasures, and have taught the other by +experience the truth of the faith and hope and love which he now +reviles. Oh, I have sinned! I have sinned! Let us turn back, Godfather +Time, and begin again. And oh! drive very slowly, for partings come +only too soon.' + +"'I am sorry,' said the old man in the same bitter tone as before, 'to +disappoint your rather unreasonable wishes. What you say is admirably +true, with this misfortune, that your good intentions are too late. Like +the rest of the world, you are ready to seize the opportunity when it is +past. You should have been kind _then_. You should have advised _then_. +You should have yielded _then_. You should have loved your brothers and +sisters while you had them. It is too late now.' + +"With this he drove on, and spoke no more, and poor Melchior stared +sadly out of the window. As he was gazing at the crowd, he suddenly saw +the dog-cart, in which were his brother and his wretched companions. Oh, +how old and worn he looked! and how ragged his clothes were! The men +seemed to be trying to persuade him to do something that he did not +like, and they began to quarrel; but in the midst of the dispute he +turned his head, and caught sight of the old coach; and Melchior, seeing +this, waved his hands, and beckoned with all his might. The brother +seemed doubtful; but Melchior waved harder, and (was it fancy?) Time +seemed to go slower. The brother made up his mind; he turned and jumped +from the dog-cart as he had jumped from the old coach long ago, and, +ducking in and out among the horses and carriages, ran for his life. The +men came after him; but he ran like the wind--pant, pant, nearer, +nearer; at last the coach was reached, and Melchior seized the prodigal +by his rags and dragged him in. + +"'Oh, thank God, I have got you safe, my brother!' + +"But what a brother! with wasted body and sunken eyes; with the old +curly hair turned to matted locks, that clung faster to his face than +the rags did to his trembling limbs; what a sight for the opera-glasses +of the crowd! Yet poor Hop-o'-my-thumb was on the front seat at last, +with Melchior kneeling at his feet, and fondly stroking the head that +rested against him. + +"'Has powder come into fashion, brother?' he said. 'Your hair is +streaked with white.' + +"'If it has,' said the other, laughing, 'your barber is better than +mine, Melchior, for your head is as white as snow.' + +"'Is it possible? are we so old? has Time gone so very fast? But what +are you staring at through the window? I shall be jealous of that crowd, +brother.' + +"'I am not looking at the crowd,' said the prodigal in a low voice; 'but +I see----' + +"'You see what?' said Melchior. + +"'A figure in a cloak, gliding in and out----' + +"Melchior sprang up in horror. 'No! no!' he cried, hoarsely. 'No! surely +no!' + +"Surely yes! Too surely the well-known figure came on; and the +prodigal's sunken eyes looked more sunken still as he gazed. As for +Melchior, he neither spoke nor moved, but stood in a silent agony, +terrible to see. All at once a thought seemed to strike him; he seized +his brother, and pushed him to the farthest corner of the seat, and then +planted himself firmly at the door, just as Death came up and put his +hand into the coach. Then he spoke in a low, steady voice, more piteous +than cries or tears. + +"'I humbly beseech you, good Death, if you must take one of us, to take +me. I have had a long drive, and many comforts and blessings, and am +willing, if unworthy, to go. He has suffered much, and had no pleasure; +leave him for a little to enjoy the drive in peace, just for a very +little; he has suffered so much, and I have been so much to blame; let +me go instead of him.' + +"Poor Melchior! In vain he laid both his hands in Death's outstretched +palm; they fell to him again as if they had passed through air; he was +pushed aside--Death passed into the coach--'one was taken and the other +left.' + +"As the cloaked figure glided in and out among the crowd, many turned +to look at his sad burden, though few heeded him. Much was said; but the +general voice of the crowd was this: 'Ah! he is gone, is he? Well! a +born rascal! It must be a great relief to his brother!' A conclusion +which was about as wise, and about as near the truth, as the world's +conclusions generally are. As for Melchior, he neither saw the figure +nor heard the crowd, for he had fallen senseless among the cushions. + +"When he came to his senses, he found himself lying still upon his face; +and so bitter was his loneliness and grief, that he lay still and did +not move. He was astonished, however, by the (as it seemed to him) +unusual silence. The noise of the carriage had been deafening, and now +there was not a sound. Was he deaf? or had the crowd gone? He opened his +eyes. Was he blind? or had the night come? He sat right up, and shook +himself, and looked again. The crowd was gone; so, for matter of that, +was the coach; and so was Godfather Time. He had not been lying among +cushions, but among pillows; he was not in any vehicle of any kind, but +in bed. The room was dark, and very still; but through the 'barracks' +window, which had no blind, he saw the winter sun pushing through the +mist, like a red-hot cannon-ball hanging in the frosty trees; and in +the yard outside, the cocks were crowing. + +"There was no longer any doubt that he was safe in his old home; but +where were his brothers and sisters? With a beating heart he crept to +the other end of the bed; and there lay the prodigal, with no haggard +cheeks or sunken eyes, no gray locks or miserable rags, but a rosy, +yellow-haired urchin fast asleep, with his head upon his arm. 'I took +his pillow,' muttered Melchior, self-reproachfully. + +"A few minutes later, young Hop-o'-my-thumb, (whom Melchior dared not +lose sight of for fear he should melt away,) seated comfortably on his +brother's back, and wrapped up in a blanket, was making a tour of the +'barracks.' + +"'It's an awful lark,' said he, shivering with a mixture of cold and +delight. + +"If not exactly a _lark_, it was a very happy tour to Melchior, as, hope +gradually changing into certainty, he recognized his brothers in one +shapeless lump after the other in the little beds. There they all were, +sleeping peacefully in a happy home, from the embryo hero to the embryo +philosopher, who lay with the invariable book upon his pillow, and his +hair looking (as it always did) as if he lived in a high wind. + +"'I say,' whispered Melchior, pointing to him, 'what did he say the +other day about being a parson?' + +"'He said he should like to be one,' returned Hop-o'-my-thumb; 'but you +said he would frighten away the congregation with his looks.' + +"'He will make a capital parson,' said Melchior, hastily, 'and I shall +tell him so to-morrow. And when I'm the squire here, he shall be vicar, +and I'll subscribe to all his dodges without a grumble. I'm the eldest +son. And I say, don't you think we could brush his hair for him in a +morning, till he learns to do it himself?' + +"'Oh, I will!' was the lively answer; 'I'm an awful dab at brushing. +Look how I brush your best hat!' + +"'True,' said Melchior. 'Where are the girls to-night?' + +"'In the little room at the end of the long passage,' said Hop +o'-my-thumb, trembling with increased chilliness and enjoyment. 'But +you're never going there! we shall wake the company, and they will all +come out to see what's the matter.' + +"'I shouldn't care if they did,' said Melchior, 'it would make it feel +more real.' + +"As he did not understand this sentiment, Hop-o'-my-thumb said nothing, +but held on very tightly; and they crept softly down the cold gray +passage in the dawn. The girls' door was open; for the girls were +afraid of robbers, and left their bed-room door wide open at night, as a +natural and obvious means of self-defence. The girls slept together; and +the frill of the pale sister's prim little night-cap was buried in the +other one's uncovered curls. + +"'How you do tremble!' whispered Hop-o'-my-thumb; 'are you cold?' This +inquiry received no answer; and after some minutes he spoke again. 'I +say, how very pretty they look! don't they?' + +"But for some reason or other, Melchior seemed to have lost his voice; +but he stooped down and kissed both the girls very gently, and then the +two brothers crept back along the passage to the 'barracks.' + +"'One thing more,' said Melchior; and they went up to the mantel-piece. +'I will lend you my bow and arrow to-morrow, on one condition----' + +"'Anything!' was the reply, in an enthusiastic whisper. + +"'That you take that old picture for a target, and never let me see it +again.' + +"It was very ungrateful! but perfection is not in man; and there was +something in Melchior's muttered excuse,-- + +"'I couldn't stand another night of it.' + +"Hop-o'-my-thumb was speedily put to bed again, to get warm, this time +with both the pillows; but Melchior was too restless to sleep, so he +resolved to have a shower-bath and to dress. After which he knelt down +by the window, and covered his face with his hands. + +"'He's saying very long prayers,' thought Hop-o'-my-thumb, glancing at +him from his warm nest; 'and what a jolly humor he is in this morning!' + +"Still, the young head was bent and the handsome face hidden; and +Melchior was finding his life every moment more real and more happy. For +there was hardly a thing, from the well-filled 'barracks' to the brother +bedfellow, that had been a hardship last night, which this morning did +not seem a blessing. He rose at last, and stood in the sunshine, which +was now pouring in; a smile was on his lips, and on his face were two +drops, which, if they were water, had not come from the shower-bath, or +from any bath at all." + + +"Is that the end?" inquired the young lady on his knee, as the +story-teller paused here. + +"Yes, that is the end." + +"It's a beautiful story," she murmured, thoughtfully; "but what an +extraordinary one! I don't think I could have dreamt such a wonderful +dream." + +"Do you think you could have eaten such a wonderful supper?" said the +friend, twisting his moustaches. + +After this point, the evening's amusements were thoroughly successful. +Richard took his smoking boots from the fireplace, and was called upon +for various entertainments for which he was famous. + +The door opened at last, and Paterfamilias entered with Materfamilias +(whose headache was better), and followed by the candles. A fresh log +was then thrown upon the fire, the yule cakes and furmety were put upon +the table, and everybody drew round to supper; and Paterfamilias +announced that, although he could not give the materials to play with, +he had no objection now to a bowl of moderate punch for all, and that +Richard might compound it. This was delightful; and as he sat by his +father ladling away to the rest, Adolphus Brown could hardly have felt +more jovial, even with the champagne and ices. + +The rest sat with radiant faces and shining heads in goodly order; and +at the bottom of the table, by Materfamilias, was the friend, as happy +in his unselfish sympathy as if his twenty-five sticks had come to life, +and were supping with him. As happy--nearly--as if a certain woman's +grave had never been dug under the southern sun that could not save +her, and as if the children gathered round him were those of whose faces +he had often dreamt, but might never see. + +His health had been drunk, and everybody else's too, when, just as +supper was coming to a close, Richard (who had been sitting in +thoughtful silence for some minutes) got up with sudden resolution, and +said,-- + +"I want to propose Mr. What's-his-name's health on my own account. I +want to thank him for his story, which had only one mistake in it. +Melchior should have kept the effervescing papers to put into the beer; +it's a splendid drink! Otherwise it was first-rate; though it hit me +rather hard. I want to say that though I didn't mean all I said about +being an only son, (when a fellow gets put out he doesn't know what he +means,) yet I know I was quite wrong, and the story is quite right. I +want particularly to say that I'm very glad there are so many of us, for +the more, you know, the merrier. I wouldn't change father or mother, +brothers or sisters, with any one in the world. It couldn't be better, +we couldn't be happier. We are all together, and to-morrow is +Christmas-Day. Thank God." + + + + + _Read by the Landlord._ + + + "A jolly negation, who took upon + him the ordering of the bills of + fare." + + _Lamb._ + + + + +MR. GRAPEWINE'S CHRISTMAS DINNER. + + +"My dear," said Mr. Grapewine, over the dinner-table, about a fortnight +before Christmas,--"how many days to Christmas?" + +Mrs. Grapewine counted on her fingers; looked a little uncertain up +towards the ceiling, and at last applied to the calendar on the wall +behind her, exclaiming, when she had mentally calculated the time,-- + +"Week and six days; comes on Thursday." + +"True," said Mr. Grapewine, and he fell to devouring the residuum of his +meal, a very savory mixture, which he swallowed with an amazing relish. + +"There!" said he, after the last sip of coffee, "I believe I don't want +another thing to eat till Christmas-day. Mrs. G., you have the art of +concocting the most appetizing meals. I never seem to get enough of +them." + +"Two a day!" suggested Mrs. Grapewine, in her sharp manner. + +"No, no, no! Mrs. G., you _are_ an experienced cateress, that I +confess. But there is a delicacy in the thing which two such meals a day +would utterly destroy. You misunderstand me? It is the expectancy, the +snuffing up of the fumes beforehand, the very consciousness of your +inability to cope with it, which makes such a meal delicious. Now two a +day would leave a man no chance to get properly hungry. That's the +point. It is the preparation, the deferred hope, which render a good +dinner one of the completest luxuries of life. The hungrier one is, the +more prolonged the satisfaction of the palate. I don't think I have ever +been hungry to the fullest extent of my capacity in my life." + +"Trip across Sahara!" interpolated Mrs. Grapewine. + +"Yes, that would do, my dear; but I think we could accomplish it at home +by artificial means. I _think_ we could. Fasting would not do, +because the appetite would at last grow unable to discriminate. Drugs +would enfeeble it. (I'll thank you for another cup of coffee, my dear. +Ah, delicious cup of coffee!)--Drugs would enfeeble it. There is really +no direct stimulant that I know of; but I _think_ we could +intensify the appetite by a little course of diplomacy. Let us eat +frugally--sandwiches, crackers and cheese, potted meats--for the next +two weeks; and, if you please, cook us at each luncheon-time, as a sort +of stimulating accompaniment, some odorous dish,--roast-beef, stuffed +leg of lamb, roast turkey, codfish, anything with an odor,--which we +shall smell, but not taste of. Don't you see, madam?" + +"No!" + +"Don't you see that our stomachs will yearn for these strong delicacies, +and, going unsatisfied, will relish them the more when we at last attack +them?" + +"No!" + +"You have something to propose then, my dear. What is it? What have you +to propose?" + +"Turkish bath!" + +"What a woman you are. A Turkish bath! How, Mrs. Grapewine, can a +Turkish bath tickle a man's appetite? How can a Turkish----" + +"Empty stomach." + +"Ah, now I begin to see: a Turkish bath on an empty stomach. Yes, yes; +very good. But, perhaps, if we tried my plan and yours together, we +should arrive at the ideal appetite. I think a Christmas feast composed +of guests each with such an appetite would be nearly the greatest +pleasure we can know. Well, well, madam, let us think of it (The bell? +Yes, quite through)," and, saying this last to the tinkling of the +little silver bell, Mr. Grapewine got up from the table, undid the +napkin from his neck, and yawned both his arms quite over his fat, rosy +head as he trode towards the door. Mrs. Grapewine's step was like her +conversation,--sharp and decisive. She took her husband's arm in an +angular manner and led him, still yawning, to the sofa in the library, +where she set herself over against him, ready to hear his plans. + +"Let us have a Christmas banquet, my dear," Mr. Grapewine steadily +rubbed his eyes and yawned. + +"Who?" said Mrs. Grapewine. + +"Why, Totty and his wife, and Colonel Killiam, and--and Dr. Tuggle and +lady, and old Mrs. Gildenfenny and--and----" Mr. Grapewine snored. + +"Who?" said Mrs. Grapewine, somewhat loudly. + +--"And--and--Pill." + +"Who's Pill?" said she. + +"Why--oh, I mean your poor cousin Pillet. It would be a kindness to him, +you know." + +"Yes," said she. + +"Will that be enough? Let me see, that is seven--nine with us two." + +"Quite enough," said she. And so Mr. Grapewine, arousing himself, rose +from the sofa, put on his hat and coat, and went out to his business. + +He was full of the idea. He talked about it to his clerks at the store. +He looked into restaurant windows, humming a tune in the excess of his +delight. He looked into bakers' windows and confectionery shops, and a +whiff of frying bacon from a little blind court he passed almost set him +dancing. Indeed, Mr. Grapewine was a man of juvenile impulse. In figure +as well as character he seemed rather to have expanded into a larger +sort of babyhood than to have left that stage of his life behind. His +face was broad and rosy and whiskerless, his hands were round and +well-dimpled, and his body chubby to a degree. Once an idea got +possession of him, he was its bondsman until another conquered it and +enslaved him anew. But, really loving good cheer above everything else, +his latest whim tickled him into laughter whenever it entered his mind. +It was the happiest idea of his life. + +"Why, sir," he said to his book-keeper, "I think if a man would practise +my system he could easily eat a whole turkey--not to speak of other +dishes--at a meal. Magnificent idea! William. I wonder no one ever +thought of it before. Wonderful!" + +"A little bilious, sir," said William. + +"Bilious! bilious! Why, my man, how can anything produce biliousness in +an empty stomach? No; it may bring inertia,--the Lotos does that,--but +never biliousness." + +In the evening, Mr. Grapewine visited the Turkish baths and learned all +about them before he went home. He encountered another idea on his way +thither, and was taken captive by it without resistance. He could +not--it would never do--it would not be courteous to eat so plentifully +in the presence of guests whose appetites were merely natural. Nor could +he well ask them to take the stimulating course he proposed for himself. +But they _could_ take a Turkish bath, and it would be quite a neat +little social device to enclose a ticket for a bath with each +invitation. + +"There, madam!" he said to Mrs. Grapewine, "I think that's perfect. We +shall have the heartiest, merriest dinner on Christmas-day that man ever +devoured. Bring pen and paper, and I'll write to all the guests +immediately, ma'am." + +After a moment's scratching of the pen, Mr. Grapewine leaned back in his +chair and held off the wet sheet at arm's length, reading with strong +emphasis as follows,-- + +"DEAR CAPTAIN KILLIAM,--Mrs. Grapewine and myself would be most happy to +have you join a small company of friends at our house on Christmas-day, +for dinner, at one P.M. The affair will be quite informal, and, to add +to the thorough enjoyment of it, I enclose a coupon for a Turkish-bath, +which please use on Christmas morning before the hour named. + + "Yours, sincerely, + "GEORGE GRAPEWINE." + +By the next morning Mr. Grapewine's invitations had found their way to +the breakfast-tables of all his expected guests. + + * * * * * + +Mr. Pillet's breakfast-table was composed of the top of a flat trunk, +and to find its way there the invitation went up three pairs of stairs. +Mr. Pillet was a writer, and his income was by no means as great as his +ability. He had often to point out a similar disparity in the lives of +other writers, because this was his one way of accounting for his want +of success. He did not write books, to be sure. He only wrote poetical +advertisements. But they were printed and paid for, and this gave him a +sort of prestige among his less lucky friends. He was seedy; only +moderately clean, and wholly unshaven, thus avoiding, by one happy +invention, both soap and the barber. Fierce he was to look at, with his +rugged beard and eyebrows, and fierce in his resentment of the world's +indifference. A Christmas invitation to the Grapewine's made his eyes +glisten with delight: a good dinner, guests to tell his tale to, and +women, lovely women, who would sympathize with his unrequited hopes. He +read on: + +"I enclose a ticket for a Turkish bath----" + +"Great heavens!" he cried, "what can this mean?" + +He read the words again, and then read the coupon. + +"Insulted! Insulted by a man I have ever befriended. He must apologize. +I'll shake the words from his throat. I'll--I'll not eat another +mouthful till I have his apology! Turkish bath! Why----" and Mr. Pillet +walked violently--gesticulating, with the open note in his hand--up and +down the creaking floor of his apartment. He did not finish his +breakfast, but put on his hat--perhaps forgetting an overcoat--and +hurried down-stairs. + + * * * * * + +Colonel Killiam took breakfast at the "Furlough Club." He perused Mr. +Grapewine's note with a majestic condescension, and decided to go to the +dinner, where, of course, those present would recognize his superior +rank. Each sentence he read was sandwiched between two sips of +chocolate, and he reached the latter clause only by slow degrees. When +he got that far, the colonel started to his feet and sternly summoned +the waiter. + +"Ask Major Fobbs to call at my table as soon as he can." + +The waiter obeyed, and Major Fobbs followed him back to the colonel's +table. + +"Major," said the colonel, "will you please spell those words?" + +"T-u-r-k-i-s-h b-a-t-h, Turkish bath," read the major. + +"Thank heaven, I am still rational!" said the colonel. "I feared reason +was dethroned. Thank you, major. Good-day," and Colonel Killiam strode +out of the room, rigid with indignation. + +Old Mrs. Gildenfenny received her invitation over a breakfast-table that +stood against her bedside. The note was handed in by an aged servant, +who thereupon leaned over her mistress's shoulder and helped her to read +it. Mrs. Gildenfenny was an energetic old lady; but she loved, most of +all things in the world, her idle hour in bed of a morning with a +smoking meal of hot-cakes and coffee at her elbow. She disliked, most of +all things in the world, to be robbed of this comfort, and she hated the +being who committed such an offence with a vehemence which was her chief +characteristic. The two old women read Mrs. Gildenfenny's note aloud en +duet, with now and then a pleased comment. Mrs. Gildenfenny said she +would wear her green silk, and gave directions, as she read on, about +her shoes, her hair, her linen and twenty articles of her toilet that +came into her mind at mention of dining out. + +"Lord a-mercy!" says Mrs. Gildenfenny, when she had read a little +further; "Lord a-mercy! if I'm not decent, why does he ask me? Why don't +he say, at once, 'Please wash yourself before you come; and if you can't +afford soap and water, here's a ticket'? Susan, get me up! Dress me +right away! I must have this explained." + +"But your breakfast, ma'am," says Susan. + +"Eat? eat? with such a thing on my mind? No! I'll go at once to his +house!" and in a few moments Mrs. Gildenfenny also went out. + + * * * * * + +Mr. and Mrs. Totty were served with their invitation over a +breakfast-table where meekness and humility were administered with the +rolls and poured out with the weak cambric tea of the little ones. The +meal was an impressive ceremony, where discourses on duty and against +excess of the palate were often the only relishes present. + +Mr. Totty would paint the miseries of the epicure, and Mrs. +Totty those of the dyspeptic, in words of eloquence which made +milk-and-sugar-and-water a liquid of priceless moral value, though they +never succeeded in strengthening its nutritive effects. While the eldest +Totty had answered the postman's summons, Mr. Totty was exhorting his +youngest son to avoid butter to his bread as a pitfall through which he +must eventually come to a state of depravity too dreadful to be put in +words. He opened the envelope very deliberately, supposing it to contain +a bill, but with a smile on his benevolent face which betokened a +reverent spirit under suffering. As he read the opening lines and went +onward, the smile passed through the stages of surprise, gratification, +appetite, eagerness, and then passed into a look of doubt. He laughed in +a gently acid way, and said,-- + +"My dear, Mr. Grapewine invites us to a Christmas dinner, which, of +course, we could not attend----" + +"Why not?" exclaims Mrs. Totty, eagerly. + +"Which it would do gross injury to our principles to attend," continued +Mr. Totty; "and I will call on him, with our refusal, this morning, +myself." + +Mrs. Totty resignedly helped him on with his overcoat, and submitted to +the mildly spoken decree which was law in the house of the Tottys. + +In a short time her husband went out with the invitation in his pocket +and a look of unusual benevolence in his eyes. + + +Dr. Tuggle and lady read the invitation together over their +breakfast-table, and fell to quarrelling so dreadfully about the purport +of Mr. Grapewine's singular request, that the doctor rushed from the +house, threatening to pull Mr. Grapewine's nose, and to divorce himself +forever from his hateful spouse. + + +On this same morning Mr. Grapewine's bell was rung five times, at very +short intervals, in the most tremendously violent manner, and five loud +altercations took place in the hall between the servant and the five +callers. + +"Where is he?" + +"Bring him down, or I'll go up after him!" + +"What does he mean by it?" + +"Insult a respectable lady!" + +"Let me catch him, that's all!" + +"Where has he gone?" + +"I'll send him a challenge by Fobbs!" + +"Where's his wife?" + +This was what Mr. Grapewine, listening at the top of the stairs, heard +in a confused tumult in his parlor. He could not understand it. He was +extremely agitated; but the servant insisted on his going down, and he +did so, clad in a loose morning dress and slippers. As he entered the +parlor-door he was met by four furious gentlemen and an elderly lady, +flourishing his invitations in their hands and crying hotly for +explanations. + +"What do you mean, sir? What do you mean by alluding to my--my toilet in +this impertinent manner?" said Colonel Killiam. + +The light began to flow in upon Mr. Grapewine's puzzled understanding. +He confessed his mistake, and would have urged them to forget it and +come to the dinner as if nothing had happened, but before he could do so +he found himself alone in the room, with five notes of invitation on the +floor at his feet, and nothing but the remembrance of one of the best +ideas he had ever had in his life. + + + +END OF BOOK II. + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's In the Yule-Log Glow, Book II, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE YULE-LOG GLOW, BOOK II *** + +***** This file should be named 19084.txt or 19084.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/0/8/19084/ + +Produced by Paul Ereaut, Jason Isbell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://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. 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