by Owen Wister
CHAPTER II
How his Daughter, Miss Elaine, behaued in Consequence
ELAINE MISTLETOE]
The Baron walked on, his rage mounting as he went, till presently hebegan talking aloud to himself. "Mort d'aieul and Cosenage!" hemuttered, grinding his teeth over these oaths; "matters have come to apretty pass, per my and per tout! And this is what my wine-bibbingancestor has brought on his posterity by his omission to fight for theTrue Faith!"
Sir Godfrey knew the outrageous injustice of this remark as well asyou or I do; and so did the portrait of his ancestor, which hehappened to be passing under, for the red nose in the tapestry turneda deeper ruby in scornful anger. But, luckily for the nerves of itsdescendant, the moths had eaten its mouth away so entirely, that theretort it attempted to make sounded only like a faint hiss, which theBaron mistook for a little gust of wind behind the arras.
"My ruddy Burgundy!" he groaned, "going, going! and my rich, fruityMalvoisie,--all gone! Father Anselm didn't appreciate it, either, thatnight he dined here last September. He said I had put egg-shells init. Egg-shells! Pooh! As if any parson could talk about wine. TheseChurch folk had better mind their business, and say grace, and eattheir dinner, and be thankful. That's what I say. Egg-shells,forsooth!" The Baron was passing through the chapel, and hemechanically removed his helmet; but he did not catch sight of theglittering eye of Father Anselm himself, who had stepped quickly intothe confessional, and there in the dark watched Sir Godfrey with astrange, mocking smile. When he had the chapel to himself again, thetall gray figure of the Abbot appeared in full view, and craftilymoved across the place. If you had been close beside him, and hadlistened hard, you could have heard a faint clank and jingle beneathhis gown as he moved, which would have struck you as not the sort ofnoise a hair-shirt ought to make. But I am glad you were not there;for I do not like the way the Abbot looked at all, especially so nearChristmas-tide, when almost every one somehow looks kinder as he goesabout in the world. Father Anselm moved out of the chapel, and passedthrough lonely corridors out of Wantley Manor, out of the court-yard,and so took his way to Oyster-le-Main in the gathering dusk. The fewpeople who met him received his blessing, and asked no questions; forthey were all serfs of the glebe, and well used to meeting the Abbotgoing and coming near Wantley Manor.
Meanwhile, Sir Godfrey paced along. "To think," he continued, aloud,"to think the country could be rid of this monster, this guzzlingserpent, in a few days! Plenty would reign again. Public peace of mindwould be restored. The cattle would increase, the crops would grow, myrents treble, and my wines be drunk no more by a miserable,ignorant--but, no! I'm her father. Elaine shall never be permitted tosacrifice herself for one dragon, or twenty dragons, either."
"Why, what's the matter, papa?"
Sir Godfrey started. There was Miss Elaine in front of him; and shehad put on one of the new French gowns he had brought over with him.
"Matter? Plenty of matter!" he began, unluckily. "At least, nothing isthe matter at all, my dear. What a question! Am I not back all safefrom the sea? Nothing is the matter, of course! Hasn't your old fatherbeen away from you two whole months? And weren't those pretty dresseshe has carried back with him for his little girl? And isn't thewine--Zounds, no, the wine isn't--at least, certainly it is--to besure it's what it ought to be--_what_ it ought to be? Yes! But, Mortd'aieul! not _where_ it ought to be! Hum! hum! I think I am goingmad!" And Sir Godfrey, forgetting he held the helmet all this while,dashed his hands to his head with such violence that the steel edgestruck hard above the ear, and in one minute had raised a lump thereas large as the egg of a fowl.
"Poor, poor papa," said Miss Elaine. And she ran and fetched some coldwater, and, dipping her dainty lace handkerchief into it, she bathedthe Baron's head.
"Thank you, my child," he murmured, presently. "Of course, nothing isthe matter. They were very slow in putting the new" (here he gave agulp) "casks of wine into the cellar; that's all. 'Twill soon bedinner-time. I must make me ready."
And so saying, the Baron kissed his daughter and strode away towardshis dressing-room. But she heard him shout "Mort d'aieul!" more thanonce before he was out of hearing. Then his dressing-room door shutwith a bang, and sent echoes all along the entries above and below.
Sir Godfrey maketh him ready for the Bath]
The December night was coming down, and a little twinkling lamp hungat the end of the passage. Towards this Miss Elaine musingly turnedher steps, still squeezing her now nearly dry handkerchief.
"What did he mean?" she said to herself.
"Elaine!" shouted Sir Godfrey, away off round a corner.
"Yes, papa, I'm coming."
"Don't come. I'm going to the bath. A--did you hear me say anythingparticular?"
"Do you mean when I met you?" answered Elaine. "Yes--no--that is,--notexactly, papa."
"Then don't dare to ask me any questions, for I won't have it." Andanother door slammed.
"What did papa mean?" said Miss Elaine, once more.
Her bright brown eyes were looking at the floor as she walked slowlyon towards the light, and her lips, which had been a little open sothat you could have seen what dainty teeth she had, shut quite close.In fact, she was thinking, which was something you could seldom accuseher of. I do not know exactly what her thoughts were, except that thewords "dragon" and "sacrifice" kept bumping against each other inthem continually; and whenever they bumped, Miss Elaine frowned alittle deeper, till she really looked almost solemn. In this way shecame under the hanging lamp and entered the door in front of which itshone.
SIR GODFREY getteth in to hys Bath]
This was the ladies' library, full of the most touching romances aboutRoland, and Walter of Aquitaine, and Sir Tristram, and a great numberof other excitable young fellows, whose behaviour had invariably gotthem into dreadful difficulties, but had as invariably made them, inthe eyes of every damsel they saw, the most attractive, fascinating,sweet, dear creatures in the world. Nobody ever read any of thesebooks except Mrs. Mistletoe and the family Chaplain. These two were,indeed, the only people in the household that knew how to read,--whichmay account for it in some measure. It was here that Miss Elaine camein while she was thinking so hard, and found old Mistletoe huddled tothe fire. She had been secretly reading the first chapters of a newand pungent French romance, called "Roger and Angelica," that wasbeing published in a Paris and a London magazine simultaneously. Onlythus could the talented French author secure payment for his books inEngland; for King John, who had recently murdered his little nephewArthur, had now turned his attention to obstructing all arrangementsfor an international copyright. In many respects, this monarch was nocredit to his family.
MISTLETOE; CONSVLTETH YE COOKYNGE BOOKE]
When the Governess heard Miss Elaine open the door behind her, shethought it was the family Chaplain, and, quickly throwing the shockingstory on the floor, she opened the household cookery-book,--anenormous volume many feet square, suspended from the ceiling by strongchains, and containing several thousand receipts for English, French,Italian, Croatian, Dalmatian, and Acarnanian dishes, beginning with apoem in blank verse written to his confectioner by the Emperor Charlesthe Fat. German cooking was omitted.
"I'm looking up a new plum-pudding for Christmas," said Mistletoe,nervously, keeping her virtuous eyes on the volume.
"Ah, indeed!" Miss Elaine answered, indifferently. She was thinkingharder than ever,--was, in fact, inventing a little plan.
"Oh, so it's you, deary!" cried the Governess, much relieved. She hadfeared the Chaplain might pick up the guilty magazine and find itspages cut only at the place where the French story was. And I amgrieved to have to tell you that this is just what he did do later inthe evening, and sat down in his private room and read about Roger andAngelica himself.
"Here's a good one," said Mistletoe. "Number 39, in the Appendix toPart Fourth. Chop two pounds of leeks and----"
"But I may not be here to taste it," said Elai
ne.
"Bless the child!" said Mistletoe. "And where else would you be onChristmas-day but in your own house?"
"Perhaps far away. Who knows?"
"You haven't gone and seen a young man and told him----"
"A young man, indeed!" said Elaine, with a toss of her head. "There'snot a young man in England I would tell anything save to go about hisbusiness."
Miss Elaine had never seen any young men except when they came to dineon Sir Godfrey's invitation; and his manner on those occasions so awedthem that they always sat on the edge of their chairs, and said, "No,thank you," when the Baron said, "Have some more capon?" Then theBaron would snort, "Nonsense! Popham, bring me Master Percival'splate," upon which Master Percival invariably simpered, and said thatreally he did believe he _would_ take another slice. After thesedinners, Miss Elaine retired to her own part of the house; and thatwas all she ever saw of young men, whom she very naturally deemed aclass to be despised as silly and wholly lacking in self-assertion.
"Then where in the name of good saints are you going to be?" Mistletoewent on.
"Why," said Elaine, slowly (and here she looked very slyly at the oldGoverness, and then quickly appeared to be considering the lace on herdress), "why, of course, papa would not permit me to sacrifice myselffor one dragon or twenty dragons."
"What!" screamed Mistletoe, all in a flurry (for she was a fool)."What?"
"Of course, I know papa would say that," said Miss Elaine, demure aspossible.
"Oh, mercy me!" squeaked Mistletoe; "we are undone!"
"To be sure, I might agree with papa," said the artful thing, knowingwell enough she was on the right track.
"Oo--oo!" went the Governess, burying her nose in the householdcookery-book and rocking from side to side.
"But then I might not agree with papa, you know. I might think,--mightthink----" Miss Elaine stopped at what she might think, for really shehadn't the slightest idea what to say next.
"You have no right to think,--no right at all!" burst out Mistletoe."And you sha'n't be allowed to think. I'll tell Sir Godfrey at once,and he'll forbid you. Oh, dear! oh, dear! just before Christmas Eve,too! The only night in the year! She has no time to change her mind;and she'll be eaten up if she goes, I know she will. What villain toldyou of this, child? Let me know, and he shall be punished at once."
"I shall not tell you that," said Elaine.
"Then everybody will be suspected," moaned Mistletoe. "Everybody. Thewhole household. And we shall all be thrown to the Dragon. Oh, dear!was there ever such a state of things?" The Governess betook herselfto weeping and wringing her hands, and Elaine stood watching her andwondering how in the world she could find out more. She knew now justenough to keep her from eating or sleeping until she knew everything.
"I don't agree with papa, at all," she said, during a lull in thetears. This was the only remark she could think of.
"He'll lock you up, and feed you on bread and water till youdo--oo--oo!" sobbed Mistletoe; "and by that time we shall all beea--ea--eaten up!"
"But I'll talk to papa, and make him change his mind."
"He won't. Do you think you're going to make him care more about a lotof sheep and cows than he does about his only daughter? Doesn't he paythe people for everything the Dragon eats up? Who would pay him foryou, when you were eaten up?"
"How do you know that I should be eaten up?" asked Miss Elaine.
"Oh, dear! oh, dear! and how could you stop it? What could a girl doalone against a dragon in the middle of the night?"
"But on Christmas Eve?" suggested the young lady. "There might besomething different about that. He might feel better, you know, onChristmas Eve."
"Do you suppose a wicked, ravenous dragon with a heathen tail is goingto care whether it is Christmas Eve or not? He'd have you for hisChristmas dinner, and that's all the notice he would take of the day.And then perhaps he wouldn't leave the country, after all. How can yoube sure he would go away, just because that odious, vulgar legend saysso? Who would rely on a dragon? And so there you would be gone, and hewould be here, and everything!"
Mistletoe's tears flowed afresh; but you see she had said all thatMiss Elaine was so curious to know about, and the fatal secret wasout.
ELAINE MAKETH AN VNEXPECTED REMARK]
The Quarter-Bell rang for dinner, and both the women hastened totheir rooms to make ready; Mistletoe still boo-hooing and snuffling,and declaring that she had always said some wretched, abominablevillain would tell her child about that horrid, ridiculous legend,that was a perfect falsehood, as anybody could see, and very likelyinvented by the Dragon himself, because no human being with anyfeelings at all would think of such a cruel, absurd idea; and if theyever did, they deserved to be eaten themselves; and she would not haveit.
She said a great deal more that Elaine, in the next room, could nothear (though the door was open between), because the Governess put herfat old face under the cold water in the basin, and, though she wenton talking just the same, it only produced an angry sort of bubbling,which conveyed very little notion of what she meant.
So they descended the stairway, Miss Elaine walking first, verystraight and solemn; and that was the way she marched into thebanquet-hall, where Sir Godfrey waited.
"Papa," said she, "I think I'll meet the Dragon on Christmas Eve!"