CHAPTER XII.
A VISION OF CHRISTMAS TREES.
'The angels are abroad to-night.'
_At Christmas-tide._
It was early summer when _we_ saw them last. It ismid-winter--December--now. And winter comes in good earnest in thecountry where I have shown you the white castle, and told you of thedoings and adventures of its two little guests. Many more could I tellyou of--many a joyous summer day had they spent with their forestfriends, many a wonderful dance had godmother led them, till they hadgot to know nearly as much as Waldo and Silva themselves of the strangehappy creatures that lived in this marvellous Christmas-tree Land, andin other lands too. For as the days shortened again, and grew too coldfor air-journeys and cave explorings and visits to many other denizensof the forest than I have space to tell you about, then began theseason of godmother's story-tellings, which I think the children foundas delightful as any other of her treats. Oh, the wonderful tales thatwere told round the bright little fire in Silva's dainty kitchen! Oh,the wood-fairies, and water-sprites, and dwarfs, and gnomes that theylearnt about! Oh, the lovely songs that godmother sang in that witchingvoice of hers--that voice like none other that the children had everheard! It was a true fairyland into which she led them--a fairylandwhere entered nothing ugly or cruel or mean or false, though thedwellers in it were of strange and fantastic shape and speech, childrenof the rainbow and the mist, unreal and yet real, like the cloud-castlesthat build themselves for us in the sky, or the music that weaves itselfin the voice of the murmuring stream.
But even to these happy times there came an end--and the beginning ofthis end began to be felt when the first snow fell and Christmas-treeLand was covered with the thick white mantle it always wore till thespring's soft breath blew it off again.
'A storm is coming--a heavy storm is on its way, my darlings,' saidgodmother one afternoon, when she had been spinning some lovely storiesfor them with her invisible wheel. She had left the fireside and wasstanding by the open doorway, looking out at the white landscape, and asshe turned round, it seemed to the children that her own face was whiterthan usual--her _hair_ certainly was so. It had lost the golden tinge itsometimes took, which seemed to make a gleam all over her features--sothat at such times it was impossible to believe that godmother wasold--and now she seemed a very tiny little old woman, as small andfragile as if she herself was made out of a snowflake, and her facelooked anxious and almost sad. 'A storm is on its way,' she repeated;'you must hasten home.'
'But why do you look so sad, godmother dear?' said Maia. 'We can gethome quite safely. _You_ can see to that. Nothing will ever hurt us when_you_ are taking care of us.'
'But there are some things I cannot do,' said godmother, smiling, 'orrather that I would not do if I could. Times and seasons pass away andcome to an end, and it is best so. Still, it may make even me sadsometimes.'
All the four pairs of eyes looked up in quick alarm. They felt thatthere was something--though what, they did not know--that godmother wasthinking of in particular, and the first idea that came into theirminds was not far from the truth.
'Godmother! oh, godmother!' exclaimed all the voices together, so thatthey sounded like one, 'you don't mean that we're not to see each otherany more?'
'Not yet, dears, not yet,' said godmother. 'But happy times pass and sadtimes pass. It must be so. And, after all, why should one fret? Thosewho love each other meet again as surely as the bees fly to theflowers.'
'In Heaven, godmother? Do you mean in Heaven?' asked Maia, in a lowvoice and with a look in her eyes telling that the tears were not faroff.
Godmother smiled again.
'Sooner than that sometimes. Do not look so distressed, my pretty Maia.But come now. I must get you home before the storm breaks. Kiss eachother, my darlings, but it is not good-bye yet. You will soon betogether again--sooner than you think.'
No one ever thought of not doing--and at once--what godmother told them.Rollo and Maia said good-bye even more lovingly than usual to their dearWaldo and Silva, and then godmother, holding a hand of each, set out ontheir homeward journey.
It was as she had said--the storm-spirits were in the air. Above thewind and the cracking of the branches, brittle with the frost, and thefar-off cries of birds and other creatures on their way to shelter intheir nests or lairs, came another sound which the children had heard ofbut never before caught with their own ears--a strange, indescribablesound, neither like the murmuring of the distant sea nor the growl ofthunder nor the shriek of the hurricane, yet recalling all of these.
''Tis the voice of the storm,' said godmother softly. 'Pray to the goodGod, my darlings, for those that travel by land or sea. And now,farewell!--that beaten path between the trees will bring you out at thecastle gate, and no harm will come to you. Good-bye!'
She lingered a little over the last word, and this encouraged Maia toask a question.
'When shall we see you again, dear godmother? And will you not tell usmore about why you are sad?'
'It will pass with the storm, for all is for the best,' said godmotherdreamily. 'When one joy passes, another comes. Remember that. And notrue joy is ever past. Keep well within shelter, my children, till thestorm has had its way, and then----' she stopped again.
'Then? What then? Oh, _do_ tell us,' persisted Maia. 'You know, deargodmother, it is _very_ dull in the white castle when we mayn't go out.Lady Venelda makes them give us many more lessons to keep us out ofmischief, she says, and we really don't much mind. It's better to dolessons than nothing. Oh, godmother, we would have been _so_ miserablehere if we hadn't had you and Waldo and Silva!'
Godmother stroked Maia's sunny head and smiled down into her eyes. Andsomething just then--was it a last ray of the setting sun hurrying offto calmer skies till the storm should have passed?--lighted upgodmother's own face and hair with a wonderful glow. She looked like abeautiful young girl.
'Oh, how pretty you are!' said the children under their breath. But theywere too used to these strange changes in godmother's appearance to beas astonished as many would have been.
'Three nights from now will be the day before Christmas Eve,' saidgodmother. 'When you go to bed look out in the snow and you will see mymessenger. And remember, remember, if one joy goes, another comes. Andno true joys are ever lost.'
And as they listened to her words, she was gone! So hand-in-hand,wondering what it all might mean, the children turned to the path in thesnow she had shown them, which in a few minutes brought them safelyhome.
Though none too soon--scarcely were they within shelter when the tempestbegan. The wind howled, the sleet and hail dashed down, even thegrowling of distant thunder, or what sounded like it, was heard--thestorm-spirits had it all their own way for that night and the dayfollowing; and when the second night came, and the turmoil seemed tohave ceased, it had but changed its form, for the snow again began tofall, ever more and more heavily, till it lay so deep that one couldhardly believe the world would ever again burst forth from its silentcold embrace.
And the white castle looked white no longer. Amid the surrounding purityit seemed gray and soiled and grimly ashamed of itself.
Three days had passed; the third night was coming.
'The snow has left off falling, and seems hardening,' Lady Venelda hadsaid that afternoon. 'If it continues so, the children can go outto-morrow. It is not good for young people to be so long deprived offresh air and exercise. But it is a hard winter. I only hope we shallhave no more of these terrible storms before----,' but then she stoppedsuddenly, for she was speaking to the old doctor, and had not noticedthat Rollo and Maia were standing near.
The children had seen with satisfaction that the snow had left offfalling, for, though they had faith in godmother's being able to do whatno one else could, they did not quite see how she was to send them amessage if the fearful weather had continued.
'We might have looked out the whole of last night without seeinganything,' said Maia, 'the snow was driving so. And if godmother meansto
take us anywhere, Rollo, it _is_ a good thing it's so fine to-night.She was afraid of our being out in the storm the other day, youremember.'
'Because there was no need for it,' said Rollo. 'It was already time forus to be home. I'm sure she could prevent any storm hurting us if shereally wanted to take us anywhere. There's Nanni coming, Maia--as soonas she's gone call me, and we'll look out together.'
Maia managed to persuade Nanni that she--Nanni, not Maia--was extrasleepy that evening, and had better go to bed without waiting toundress her. I am not quite sure that Nanni _did_ go at once to bed, forthe servants were already amusing themselves with Christmas games andmerriment down in the great kitchen, where the fireplace itself was aslarge as a small room, and she naturally liked to join the fun. But allMaia cared about was to be left alone with Rollo. She called to him, andthen in great excitement the two children drew back the window-curtains,and extinguishing their candles, stood hand-in-hand looking out to seewhat was going to happen. There was no moon visible, but it must havebeen shining all the same, faintly veiled perhaps behind a thin cloud,for a soft light, increased by the reflection of the spotless snow,gleamed over all. But there was nothing to be seen save the smooth whiteexpanse, bounded at a little distance from the house by the trees whichclothed the castle hill, whose forms looked strangely fantastic, halfshrouded as they were by their white garment.
'There is no one--nothing there,' said Maia in a tone of disappointment.'She must have forgotten.'
'_Forgotten_--never!' said Rollo reproachfully. 'When has godmother everforgotten us? Wait a little, Maia; you are so impatient.'
They stood for some minutes in perfect silence. Suddenly a slight, veryslight crackling was heard among the branches--so slight was it, that,had everything been less absolutely silent, it could not have beenheard--and the children looked at each other in eager expectation.
'Is it Silva--or Waldo?' said Maia in a whisper. 'She said her_messenger_.'
'Hush!' said Rollo, warningly.
A dainty little figure hopped into view from the shade of some lowbushes skirting the lawn. It was a robin-redbreast. He stood still inthe middle of the snow-covered lawn, his head on one side, as if in deepconsideration. Suddenly a soft, low, but very peculiar whistle washeard, and the little fellow seemed to start, as if it were a signal hehad been listening for, and then hopped forward unhesitatingly in thechildren's direction.
'Did _you_ whistle, Rollo?' said Maia in a whisper.
'No, certainly not. I was just going to ask if _you_ did,' answeredRollo.
But now the robin attracted all their attention. He came to a stand justin front of their window, and then looked up at them with the mostunmistakable air of invitation.
'We're to go with him, I'm sure we are,' said Maia, beginning to dancewith excitement; 'but _how_ can we get to him? All the doors downstairswill be closed, and it's far too high to jump.'
Rollo, who had been leaning out of the window the better to see therobin, suddenly drew his head in again with a puzzled expression.
'It's _very_ strange,' he said. 'I'm _sure_ it wasn't there thismorning. Look, Maia, do you see the top of a ladder just a tiny bit atthis side of the window? I could get on to it quite easily.'
'So could I,' said Maia, after peeping out. 'It's all right, Rollo._She's_ had it put there for us. Look at the robin--he knows all aboutit. You go first, and when you get down call to me and tell me how tomanage.'
Two minutes after, Rollo's voice called up that it was all right. Maiawould find it quite easy if she came rather slowly, which she did, andto her great delight soon found herself beside her brother.
'Dear me, we've forgotten our hats and jackets,' she exclaimed. 'Butit's not cold--how is that?'
'_You_ haven't forgotten your--what is it you've got on?' said Rollo,looking at her.
'And you--what have you got on?' said Maia in turn. 'Why, we've _both_got cloaks on, something like the shawl we had for the air-journey, onlythey're quite, _quite_ white.'
'Like the snow--we can't be seen. They're as good as invisible cloaks,'said Rollo, laughing in glee.
'And they fit so neatly--they seem to have grown on to us,' said Maia,stroking herself. But in another moment, 'Oh, Rollo!' she exclaimed,half delighted and half frightened, 'they _are_ growing, or we'regrowing, or something's growing. Up on your shoulders there are little_wings_ coming, real little white wings--they're getting bigger andbigger every minute.'
'And they're growing on you too,' exclaimed Rollo. 'Why, in a minute ortwo we'll be able to fly. Indeed, I think I can fly a little already,'and Rollo began flopping about his white wings like a newly-fledged andrather awkward cygnet. But in a minute or two Maia and he found--thanksperhaps to the example of the robin, who all this time was hovering justoverhead, backwards and forwards, as if to say, 'do like me'--to theirgreat joy that they could manage quite well; never, I am sure, did twolittle birds ever learn to fly so quickly!
All was plain-sailing now--no difficulty in following their faithfullittle guide, who flew on before, now and then cocking back his dearlittle head to see if the two queer white birds under his charge werecoming on satisfactorily. I wonder in what tribe or genus the learnedmen of that country, had there been any to see the two strange creaturescareering through the cold wintry air, would have classed them!
But little would they have cared. Never--oh, never, if I talked about itfor a hundred years--could I give you an idea of the delightfulness ofbeing able to fly! All the children's former pleasures seemed as nothingto it. The drive in godmother's pony-carriage, the gymnastics with thesquirrels, the sail in the air--all seemed nothing in comparison withit. It was so perfectly enchanting that Maia did not even feel inclinedto talk about it. And on, and on, and on they flew, till the robinstopped, wheeled round, and looking at them, began slowly to flydownwards. Rollo and Maia followed him. They touched the ground almostbefore they knew it; it seemed as if for a moment they melted into thesnow which was surrounding them here, too, on all sides, and then as ifthey woke up again to find themselves wingless, but still with theirwarm white garments, standing at the foot of an immensely hightree--for they were, it was evident, at the borders of a great forest.
The robin had disappeared. For an instant or two they remained standingstill in bewilderment; perhaps, to tell the truth, a _very_ littlefrightened, for it was much darker down here than it had been up in theair; indeed, it appeared to them that but for the gleaming snow, whichseemed to have a light of its own, it would have been quite, _quite_dark.
'Rollo,' said Maia tremulously, 'hold my hand tight; don't let it go.What----' 'Are we to do?' she would have added, but a sound breaking onthe silence made her stop short.
A soft, far-away sound it was at first, though gradually growing clearerand nearer. It was that of children's voices singing a sweet andwell-known Christmas carol, and somehow in the refrain at the end ofeach verse it seemed to Rollo and Maia that they heard their own names.'Come, come,' were the words that sounded the most distinctly. Theyhesitated no longer; off they ran, diving into the dark forestfearlessly, and though it was so dark they found no difficulty. As if bymagic, they avoided every trunk and stump which might have hurt them,till, half out of breath, but with a strange brightness in their hearts,they felt themselves caught round the necks and heartily kissed, while aburst of merry laughter replaced the singing, which had gradually meltedaway. It was Waldo and Silva of course!
'Keep your eyes shut,' they cried. 'Still a moment, and then you mayopen them.'
'But they're _not_ shut,' objected the children.
'Ah, aren't they? Feel them,' said Waldo; and Rollo and Maia, liftingtheir hands to feel, found it was true. Their eyes were not only shut,but a slight, very fine gossamer thread seemed drawn across them.
'We could not open them if we would,' they said; but I don't think theyminded, and they let Waldo and Silva draw them on still a littlefarther, till--
'Now,' they cried, and snap went the gossamer thread, and the twochildren stood
with eyes well open, gazing on the wonderful scene aroundthem.
They seemed to be standing in the centre of a round valley, from whichthe ground on every side sloped gradually upwards. And all about them,arranged in the most orderly manner, were rows and rows--tiers, perhaps,I should say--of Christmas trees--real, genuine Christmas trees of everykind and size. Some loaded with toys of the most magnificent kind, somesimpler, some with but a few gifts, and those of little value. But oneand all brilliantly lighted up with their many-coloured tapers--one andall with its Christmas angel at the top. And nothing in fairy-doll shapethat Rollo and Maia had ever seen was so beautiful as these angels withtheir gleaming wings and sweet, joyous loving faces. I think, when theyhad a little recovered from their first astonishment, that the beauty ofthe tree-angels was what struck them most.
'Yes,' said a voice beside them, in answer to their unspoken thought;'yes, each tree has _always_ its angel. Not always to be seen in itstrue beauty--sometimes you might think it only a poor, coarsely-paintedlittle doll. But _the_ angel is there all the same. Though it is only inSanta Claus' own garden that they are to be seen to perfection.'
'Are we in Santa Claus' garden now, dear godmother?' asked Maia softly.
'Yes, dears. He is a very old friend of mine--one of my oldest friends,I may say. And he allowed me to show you this sight. No other childrenhave ever been so favoured. By this time to-morrow night--long beforethen, indeed--these thousands of trees will be scattered far and wide,and round each will be a group of the happy little faces my old friendloves so well.'
'But, godmother,' said Maia practically, 'won't the tapers be burningdown? Isn't it a pity to keep them lighted just for us? And, oh, dearme! however can Santa Claus get them packed and sent off in time? I_hope_ he hasn't kept them too late to please us?'
Godmother smiled.
'Don't trouble your little head about that,' she said. 'But come, haveyou no curiosity to know which is your own Christmas-tree? Among allthese innumerable ones, is there not one for you too?'
Maia and Rollo looked up in godmother's eyes--they were smiling, butsomething in their expression they could not quite understand. Suddenlya kind of darkness fell over everything--darkness almost complete incomparison with the intense light of the million tapers that had gleamedbut an instant before--though gradually, as their eyes grew used to it,there gleamed out the same soft faint light as of veiled moonbeams, thatthey had remarked before.
'You can see now,' said godmother. 'Go straight on--quite straightthrough the trees'--for they were still in the midst of theforest--'till you come to what is waiting for you. But first kiss me, mydarlings--a long kiss, for it is good-bye--and kiss, too, your littlefriends, Waldo and Silva, for in this world one may _hope_, but one cannever be as _sure_ as one would fain be, that good-byes are not forlong.'
Too overawed by her tone to burst into tears, as they were yet ready todo, the children threw themselves into each other's arms.
'We _must_ see each other again, we must; oh, godmother, say we shall!'cried all the four voices. And godmother, as she held them all togetherin her arms seemed to whisper--
'I hope it. Yes, I hope and think you will.' And then, almost withouthaving felt that Waldo and Silva were gently but irresistibly drawn fromthem, Rollo and Maia found themselves again alone, hand-in-hand in themidst of the forest, as they had so often stood before. Without givingthemselves time to realise that they had said good-bye to their dearlittle friends, off they set, as godmother had told them, runningstraight on through the trees, where it almost seemed by the clearthough soft light that a little path opened before them as they went.Till, suddenly, for a moment the light seemed to fade and disappear,leaving them almost in darkness, which again was as unexpectedlydispersed by a wonderful brilliance, spreading and increasing, so thatat first they were too dazzled to distinguish whence it came. But notfor long.
'See, Rollo,' cried Maia; 'see, there is _our_ Christmas tree.'
'See, Rollo,' cried Maia; 'see, there is _our_ Christmastree.']
And there it was--the most beautiful they had yet seen--all radiant withlight and glistening with every pretty present child-heart could desire.
'We are only to _look_ at it, you know,' said Maia; 'it has to be packedup and sent us, of course, like the others. But,' she stopped short,'who is that, Rollo,' she went on, 'standing just by the tree? Can it beSanta Claus himself come to see if it is all right?'
'Santa Claus,' exclaimed a well-known voice, 'Santa Claus, indeed! Isthat your new name for me, my Maia?'
Then came a cry of joy--a cry from two little loving hearts--a cry whichrang merry echoes through the forest, and at which, though it woke uplots of little birds snugly hidden away in the warmest corners theycould find, no one thought of grumbling, except, I think, an old owl,who greatly objected to any disturbance of his nightly promenades andmeditations.
'Papa, papa, dear papa!' was the cry. 'Papa, you have come back to us._That_ was what godmother meant,' they said together. And their father,well pleased, held them in his arms as if he would never again let themgo.
'So you have learnt to know what godmother means--that is well,' hesaid. 'But kiss me once more only, just now, my darlings, and then youmust go home and sleep till the morning. And keep it a secret that youhave seen me to-night.'
He kissed them again, and before their soft childish lips had left hisface, a strange dreamy feeling overpowered them. Neither Rollo nor Maiaknew or thought anything more of where they were or how they had comethere for many hours.
And then they were awakened--Rollo first, then Maia--by the sound ofNanni's delighted voice at their bedside.
'Wake up, wake up,' she said, 'for the most beautiful surprise has cometo you for this happy Christmas Eve.'
And even without her telling them, they knew what it was--they knew whowas waiting for them downstairs, nor could all their awe of Lady Veneldaprevent them rushing at their father and hugging him till he was nearlychoked. But Lady Venelda, I must confess, was too happy herself to seeher kinsman again to be at all vexed with them. And her pleasure, aswell as that of the kind old doctor, was increased by the thanks theyreceived for all their care of the children, whom their father declaredhe had never seen so bright or blooming.
And, a few days afterwards, they went back with him to their own happyhome; and what then?--did they ever see godmother and Waldo and Silvaagain? I can only answer, like godmother herself, 'I hope so; yes, Ihope so, and think so.' But as to how or where--ah, that I cannot say!
THE END.
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