Tell Me a Story
Page 9
crackle and fizz, Con couldhave fancied it was laughing at him. He looked up at Nance. _She_ wasnot laughing; on the contrary, her face looked very grave, graver thanever he had seen it.
"Connemara," she said slowly, "take care. You don't know what you aresaying."
But Con stared into the fire again and did not answer. I hardly thinkhe heard what she said; the warm fire made him drowsy, and thebrightness dazzled his eyes. He was almost beginning to nod, when Nancespoke again to him, rather sharply this time.
"My boy, the snow is beginning; you must go." Con's habit of obediencemade him start up, sleepy though he was. Nance was already at the doorlooking out.
"Do not linger on the way, Connemara," she said, "and do not think ofanything but home. It will be a wild night, but if you go straight andswift you will reach home soon."
"I'm not afraid," said Con stoutly, as he set off.
"I could wish he were," murmured Nance to herself, as she watched thelittle figure showing dark against the already whitening hill side, tillit was out of sight.
Then she came back into the cottage, but she could not rest.
Con strode on manfully; the snow fell thicker and thicker, the wind blewfiercer and fiercer, but he had no misgiving. He had never before beenout in a snow-storm, and knew nothing of its special dangers. For sometime he got on very well, keeping strictly to the path, but suddenly,some little way up the mountain to his right, there flashed out a brightlight. It jumped and hopped about in the queerest way. Con stood stillto watch.
"Can it be a will-o'-the-wisp?" thought he, in his innocence forgettingthat a bleak mountain side in a snow-storm is hardly the place forjack-o'-lanterns and such like.
But while he watched the light it all at once settled steadily down, ona spot apparently but a few yards above him.
"It may be some one that has lost their road," thought Con; "I couldeasily show it them. I may as well climb up that little way to see;"for strangely enough the thought of the _fairies_ having anything to dowith what he saw never once occurred to him.
He left the path and began to climb. There, just above him, was thelight, such a pretty clear light, shining now so steadily. It did notseem to move, but still as fast as he thought he had all but reached it,it receded, till at last, tired, and baffled, he decided that it _must_be a will-o'-the-wisp, and turned to regain the road. But like so manywise resolutions, this one was more easily made than executed; Con couldnot find the road, hard though he tried. The snow came more and morethickly till it blinded and bewildered him hopelessly. Con did hisutmost not to cry, but at last he could bear up no longer. He sank downon the snow and sobbed piteously; then a pleasant resting feeling cameover him, gradually he left off crying and forgot all his troubles; hebegan to fancy he was in his little bed at home, and remembered nothingmore about the snow or anything.
Nance meanwhile had been watching anxiously at her door. She saw thatthe snow was coming faster, and that the wind was rising. Every now andthen it seemed to rush down with a sort of howling scream, swept roundthe kitchen and out again, and whenever it did so, the fire would leapup the chimney, as if it were laughing at some one.
"Frisken is at his tricks to-night," said Nance to herself, and everymoment she seemed to grow more and more anxious. At last she could bearit no longer. She reached a stout stick, which stood in a corner of theroom, drew her brown cloak more closely round her, and set off down thepath where she had lost sight of Con. The storm of wind and snow seemedto make a plaything of her; her slight little figure swayed and totteredas she hastened along, but still she persevered. An instinct seemed totell her where she should find the boy; she aimed almost directly forthe place, but still Connemara had lain some time in his death-likesleep before Nance came up to him. There was not light enough to havedistinguished him; what with the quickly-approaching darkness and thesnow, which had already almost covered his little figure, Nance couldnot possibly have discovered him had she not stumbled right upon him.But she seemed to know what she was about, and she did not appear theleast surprised. She managed with great difficulty to lift him in herarms, and turned towards her home. Alas, she had only staggered on afew paces when she felt that her strength was going. Had she not sunkdown on to the ground, still tightly clasping the unconscious child, shewould have fallen.
"It is no use," she whispered at last; "they have been too much for me.The child will die if I don't get help. The only creature that hasloved me all these long, long years! Oh, Frisken, you might have playedyour tricks elsewhere, and left him to me. But now I must have yourhelp."
She struggled again to her feet, and, with her stick, struck sharplythree times on the mountain side. Immediately a door opened in therock, revealing a long passage within, with a light, as of a glowingfire, at the end, and Nance, exerting all her strength, managed to dragherself and Con within this shelter. Instantly the door closed again.
No sooner had it done so, no sooner was Nance quite shut out from theoutside air, than a strange change passed over her. She grew erect andvigorous, and the weight of the boy in her arms seemed nothing to her.She looked many years younger in an instant, and with the greatest easeshe carried Con along the passage, which ended in a small cave, where abright fire was burning, in front of which lay some soft furry rugs,made of the skins of animals. With a sigh Nance laid Con gently down onthe rugs. "He will do now," she said to herself.
The first thing Con was aware of when a sort of half-consciousnessreturned to him, was the sound of voices. He did not recognise eitherof them; he was too sleepy to think where he was, or to take in thesense of what he heard, but long afterwards the words returned to him.
"Of course we shall do him no harm," said the first voice. "That is notour way with those who come to us as he has done. All his life he hasbeen wishing to come to us, and we might bear you a grudge for trying tostop him."
Here the speaker burst into a curious, ringing laugh, which seemed to bere-echoed by numberless other voices in the distance.
"You made him wish it," answered some one--it was Nance--sadly.
"_We_ made him wish it! Ha, ha! ha, ha! Did you ever hear anythinglike that, my dear friends? Why did his mother tie up his sleeves withgreen ribbon before he was christened? Answer that. Ha, ha! ha, ha!"And then there came another succession of rollicking laughter.
"It was to be, I suppose," said Nance. "But you won't _keep_ him. Ibrought him here to save his life, not to lose his--"
"Hush, hush; how can you be so ill-mannered?" interrupted the other."_Keep_ him? of course not, _unless he wants to stay_, the pretty dear."
"But will you make him want to stay?" pleaded Nance.
"How could we?" said the other mockingly. "How could _we_ influencehim? He is a pupil of yours. But if you like to change your mind, youmay come back instead of him. Ha, ha! ha, ha! what a joke!" And thelaughter sounded as if the creatures, whoever they were, were holdingtheir sides, and rolling about in the extremity of their glee. It fadedaway, gradually however, growing more and more indistinct, as ifreceding into the distance. And Con turned round on his side, and fellasleep more soundly than ever.
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When at last he really awoke he found himself lying on a bed of softmoss, under the shade of some great trees, for it was summer time--summer evening time it seemed, for the light was subdued, like that ofthe sun from behind a cloud. Con started up in amazement, rubbing hiseyes to make sure he was not dreaming. Where was he? How could it allbe? The last thing he remembered was losing his way in the snow-stormon the mountain; what had become of the winter and the snow? He lookedabout him; the place he was in seemed to be a sort of forest glade; thefoliage of the trees was so thickly interlaced overhead that only littlepatches of sky were here and there to be seen. There was no sunshine;just the same even, pale light over everything. It gave him again thefeeling of being in a dream. Suddenly a sound caught his ears, it wasthat
of running water; he turned in the direction whence it came.
It was the loveliest little brook you ever saw--"with many a curve" itwound along through the forest, and on its banks grew the most exquisiteand wonderful variety of flowers. Flowers of every colour, but ofshapes and forms Con had never seen before. He stood looking at them inbewildered delight, and as he looked, suddenly the thought for the firsttime flashed into his mind--"This is fairyland! I have got my wish atlast. I am in fairyland!"
There was something, even to him, almost overwhelming in the idea. Hecould not move or speak, hardly even breathe. All at once there burstout in every direction, above his head, beneath his feet, behind him, infront of him, _everywhere_ in fact, peals and peals of laughter--theclearest, merriest, most irresistible