CHAPTER I
THE PLEASANT-FACED LION
Ridgwell always told Christine afterwards that he thought the Lionfirst spoke to him in Trafalgar Square, the day when he was lost in thefog.
Ridgwell never knew how he became separated from the rest, but like allother unpleasant experiences it was one step, so to speak, and there hewas, wandering about lost. The fog appeared to have swallowed up thefriends he had been walking with a moment before; he could only hearvoices as if people were talking through a gramophone, and see loomingblack shadows which did not seem to be accompanied by any bodies; thenwhack--he walked right into something big which did not move. At thispoint Ridgwell was seriously thinking about commencing to cry.
"Stop that," said a gruff voice.
"What?" faltered Ridgwell.
"Going to cry."
"I am not sure," said Ridgwell, "that I was."
"I am," said the gruff voice. "I saw the corners of your mouth godown. Now can you climb up? No, of course you can't, you are toosmall. Here, catch hold of my paw! There you are!" grunted the Lion,when Ridgwell was seated safely. "You just fit nicely; all thechildren fit in here. Knock those rolled-up policemen's capes off,they annoy me every day when they put them there. They tickle me, andI can't scratch about with my paws either."
Ridgwell was now lost in amazement, and regarded the Lion inopen-mouthed astonishment.
The Lion purred contentedly. It was a nice homely sounding, domesticpurr, and many times deeper and more impressive than that of a cat."What's your name?" demanded the Lion, whilst Ridgwell was stillgasping.
"Ridgwell."
"Very appropriate too," said the Lion. "Here you are sitting in safetyon the Ridge with me, and you are Well, aren't you?"
"Yes, thank you."
"There you are then," said the Lion. "_Ridge-Well_, what more do youwant? Now I suppose you wish to know who I am? Well, I don't mindtelling you. I am the Pleasant-Faced Lion. I am the only real Lion ofthe four, consequently I have a more intelligent expression than theothers. The other three are only just common lions, and are alwaysasleep. Now _I_ come to life once in every generation and have a talkto the children, or to any one grown up who is imaginative enough tounderstand me. I like children, they are a hobby of mine. I am not inmy usual spirits to-day," continued the Lion, "I have caught cold."
"Have you?" said Ridgwell. "I am very sorry."
"Yes, they washed me for Trafalgar Day in some beastly solution whichwas most unsuitable to me. I cannot shake off the cold. Hang on!"shouted the Lion suddenly, "I am going to sneeze, and I may shake youoff the pedestal." Whereupon the Lion grabbed Ridgwell gently with hispaw to steady him, and after sneezing heavily, proceeded. "Afterwashing me for Trafalgar Day, which was most unnecessary, they hung aridiculous wreath round my neck with a large N in leaves upon it. Toadd to the injury, an absurd person stood staring at me and explainedto her children that the N stood for Napoleon. Bah!!!" growled theLion. "Bah!!! Ignorance!"
"What did it stand for?" asked Ridgwell.
"Nile," grunted the Lion. "Short for Battle of the Nile."
"But I am so astonished. I did not know that you could talk, MisterLion."
"Oh, for Heaven's sake don't call me Mister Lion, call me Lal."
"Why Lal?" inquired Ridgwell.
"Short for Lionel," whispered the Lion. "Lionel is my proper name."
"Oh, I see, but, Mister----"
"There you go again," said the Lion. "Call me Lal and be friendly."
"Indeed I am very friendly, Mister--I mean Lal; but there are so manythings I don't understand."
"Common complaint of little boys," grumbled the Lion, "and you aregoing to see a lot more things in a minute that you will find mostamazing. For instance, would you like to see a tournament?"
"Rather, Lal, I've always longed to see a tournament, but they neverhave such things now, do they? Aren't they all ended in England?"
"On the contrary," declared the Lion, "one is about to begin."
"Where?"
"Here in front of your eyes, and if you like you shall stay and see it.St. George outside Westminster has challenged the Griffin at Temple Barto fight. All the really important Statue folk will be present. KingRichard I from outside the Houses of Parliament will ride up to seefair play. Charles I. will come over from Whitehall across the road;Oliver Cromwell will most likely put in an appearance, if he can onlymake up his mind to leave his mound outside the Commons in those bigboots of his."
"But, Lal," questioned Ridgwell, "surely Charles I. and Cromwell won'tcome to the Tournament together? Will they speak and be friendly?"
"No, no," confessed the Lion, "we still have great trouble with thosetwo, they never speak. You see Cromwell is jealous of Charles, becauseCharles is mounted upon a nice horse, and rides past Cromwell and nevernotices him at all. Now Cromwell has to go about on foot, squeakingand squelching in those big boots, so that he never gets up to Charles,which annoys Cromwell very much."
"Why?"
"Well, you see, Cromwell wants to shout out 'Ha!!!' at Charles, and henever gets a chance. Cromwell gets left out very much in the cold,"continued the Lion, "Richard I. never notices him either."
"Why is that?" asked Ridgwell.
"It's like this," said the Lion, "and it's only reasonable when youcome to think of it. Richard I. spent nearly the whole of his timefighting to preserve a shrine, whilst Cromwell spent most of his timedestroying them. Of course that annoys Richard, so Richard simplylooks through Cromwell whenever they meet. Nothing would induce him tonotice Cromwell."
"I should think that must annoy Cromwell," debated Ridgwell.
"It does," agreed the Lion, "but Cromwell always shouts out Ho! atRichard; he thinks Ho! is more appropriate to Richard's period.Richard, however, with perfect self-possession which is beyond allpraise, never appears to hear him at all. Cromwell will always keepturning his head round to stare most rudely at Richard and Charles asthey gallop past, hoping that Richard will hear him shout Ho! andCharles will hear him shout Ha!, and that irritating habit of his,together with Charles's treatment of the matter, was probably theorigin of the terms, 'Roundhead' and 'Cavalier.'"
"Really!" said Ridgwell.
The Lion coughed slightly. "Not really," said the Lion, "only perhaps."
"But, Lal, if the statues of London move about and are coming here fora tournament as you say, won't people miss them?"
"Good gracious goodness, no," exclaimed the Lion. "Why! the people ofLondon wouldn't miss them in a year, let alone a few hours! Thenperhaps some person might notice something wasn't in its usual placeand would write to the papers asking what it meant, and the LondonCounty Council would hold an inquiry."
"But, Lal, will General Gordon, George III. and Nelson take part in theTournament?"
"Bless me, child, how you mix up your history," observed the Lion, "ofcourse not. They are only moderns, the others are ancients. Two Kingswaiting to see fair play between a Griffin and a Saint who are about tohave a fight, belong to quite another time. George III. and GeneralGordon are moved out of the way before the combat starts; and as forNelson, he was frozen long ago up there; it is a ridiculous attitudefor so great a man, and a worse altitude, but there he is, and youcannot alter it; however he is frozen and mercifully doesn't feelanything or see anything that is going on."
"But if they are going to fight and charge one another, won't thefountains be in the way?" inquired Ridgwell anxiously, as he looked upinto the Lion's good-humoured face.
"If you look again hard," grinned the Lion, "you will find that thefountains and the stone lakes around them have disappeared."
Ridgwell immediately looked in the direction the Lion indicated, andwas amazed to find only a big, wide, open space of stone, one of thelargest spaces in London.
"But how did they----" commenced Ridgwell.
"Hush!" said the Lion, "you really mustn't chatter any more. Here theycome, and I have to be Judge of
the Tournament, also the Referee; andto be a Referee," sighed the Lion, "is always a thankless task."
At this moment, amidst a clatter that was indescribable, the Griffin,looking a most ungainly object, came gallumping into the open space.
The Griffin appeared to be all wings, and scales, and claws, yet thissomewhat grisly appearance was entirely misleading, for he possessed anamiable, although foolish disposition, whilst his expression owed muchof its peculiarity to a habit he had acquired of breaking into broadsmiles of astonished self-appreciation. The Griffin was very vain, andthe one thing he craved for was notoriety.
"Good evening, Lionel; where's George?" demanded the Griffin. "I don'tsee him."
"You'll see quite enough of him before he's finished with you,"retorted the Pleasant-Faced Lion, loftily. "However, here he comes."
St. George at this moment entered the wide stone space immediately infront of the Lion, to whom he made a profound salute.
St. George looked very handsome in his scaly armour, and his shortbright sword glistened blue in the half light. Ridgwell had littletime to notice other details, for two horsemen came galloping in.
Both were in armour and both were mounted upon beautiful horses.
"Who are they?" asked Ridgwell.
"Don't you see?" whispered the Lion. "King Richard I. and King CharlesI. Ah," sighed the Lion, "what a noble figure Richard is! He is myspecial favourite; you see," explained the Lion, "he is named after me."
"Is he?"
"Of course. Is he not called Richard Coeur-de-Lion? I am de-Lion,"announced the Lion proudly. "He carried a picture of me on his shieldonce. You may notice," proceeded the Lion, "that King Charlesunfortunately rides slightly upon one side. It is not his fault, butowing to the fact that he has no girth to his saddle."
The horsemen wheeled one to either end of the arena before bringingtheir horses to a standstill.
The two opponents, St. George and the Griffin, stood facing each otherin the centre, waiting for the combat to commence.
"Before we start," announced the Lion, "I am the Judge. There is, ofcourse, to be no bloodshed; indeed," he added, in his wisest and mostjudicial manner, "bloodshed is impossible. The Griffin is almostover-protected (if I can use such a term) with scales, St. George isfully covered with armour. The Griffin possesses his remarkable claws,St. George a flat sword, so both are well matched. Therefore thecontest resolves itself into a trial of skill and strength. Both shallbe weighed in the scales."
"He! he! he!" sniggered the Griffin, "if my scales cannot crush thescales of George's blatant armour may I live to bite my own nails.Why, I will squash him as flat as an empty meat tin."
"Swank," murmured St. George, nonchalantly.
"The reason of the contest," continued the Lion in a loud voice, as ifhe were reading from some document which he had committed to memory,"is owing to a ridiculous assertion made by the Griffin. The Griffinclaims to be the older established of the two. St. George laughs atthis claim derisively. The Griffin sorely provoked to it,unfortunately fell back upon dates, and his memory being very weak hehoped to conceal his shakiness about dates, with phrases. He thereforedeclared that Temple Bar where he now stands, once possessed two gateswhich have since been removed. Nevertheless the Griffin contends thathe is still there and Temple Bar is still there; in this he isundoubtedly right; yet, not content with this, he further asserts thatthis is the whole cause and origin of the phrase, 'Two to one, Barone.' St. George here present, who knows something about horses,immediately called him a--well, it is not a nice word," broke off theLion in parenthesis, "anyway St. George intimated that the truth wasnot in the Griffin. Hence a trial by combat. Are you ready?" roaredthe Lion; "then commence."
From his quite comfortable seat between the Lion's paws, Ridgwell nowwatched the strangest combat he would ever be likely to witness.
The Griffin advanced towards St. George with about as much grace as adancing camel would possess. His excessive angularity was accentuatedby his extraordinary clumsiness. St. George did not appear at alldisconcerted by the flapping of the Griffin's wings, but managed toavoid his clumsy clutches with great skill. Had St. George not slippedupon a piece of orange-peel, inadvertently left upon the floor of thearena, it is doubtful if the Griffin would ever have touched him. AsSt. George slipped, the Griffin hugged him tightly. Ridgwell held hisbreath, for it almost seemed as if St. George's armour must indeedcrumple up.
"Meat tins," shrieked the Griffin.
"Break away," commanded the Lion.
"Here, I say," snorted the Griffin, "I'd only just got him."
"Break away," ordered the Lion, "no hugging."
The Griffin retired to his corner pouting.
When the second bout started, Ridgwell noticed that there was somethinglike a smile upon St. George's face, and he soon understood the reasonof it. St. George had found out his adversary's weak spot.
The Griffin advancing with a rush upon his hind legs, with his frontclaws doubled up reaching high over St. George to pull him down, wasbrought to a sudden standstill.
There was a rapid sound of "Whack! whack! whack! whack!" four times.
St. George had hit the Griffin with the flat of his sword upon the mosttender part of the Griffin's claws. The Griffin's mouth trembled.
"Whack! whack! whack! whack!" came four more swashing blows, whilst theGriffin hesitated. Then the Griffin broke down completely, and weptaloud bitterly.
"He's broken my knuckles," sobbed the Griffin.
"Do you give in?" asked the Lion.
"Oh yes," sobbed the Griffin. "Oh! my poor paws."
"Shall he chase you round the arena?" demanded the Lion.
"No," whimpered the Griffin; "I'll go home quietly."
Thereupon King Richard raised his sword and saluted to indicate thatthe fight was over, and followed by King Charles, who still swervedslightly to one side in his saddle, the two Kings rode out of theSquare.
"Shake hands?" asked St. George of the Griffin, before he departed.
The Griffin shook his head dolefully instead, whilst great tearscoursed down his cheeks.
"Oh no," sniffed the Griffin, "I don't think I shall ever shake handsagain."
When everybody had gone, the Griffin slowly hobbled to his feet, andmoving towards home, half sobbed and half sang in a way that wasintensely comic--
"Oh! Temple Bar, Oh! Temple Bar, With broken knuckles you seem so far. And all my claws are broken too; Oh! Temple Bar, what shall I do? To _hit_ me with a sword held flat, 'Twas grim of George to think of that."
"Now you have seen the tournament," observed the Lion to Ridgwell, "Isuppose you will have to get home somehow."
"Yes, please, Lal."
"And of course," said the Pleasant-Faced Lion, "you will want to comeagain."
"Rather," laughed Ridgwell.
"Well, to-morrow night there is a very different sort of entertainment.I and the Statue folk are going to give an evening party, the grandestyou have ever seen, or will ever be likely to see."
"Oh, Lal, can I come and bring Christine?"
"Who is Christine?" inquired the Lion, cautiously; "you know we cannotadmit everybody."
"Christine is my little sister. At least," added Ridgwell, "Christineis older than I am, but she is little all the same."
"I see."
"And she would so enjoy it, Lal," pleaded Ridgwell.
"Very well," said the Lion, "both come just this once. Now for home.Come," commanded the Lion, "jump up. I learned that common expressionfrom the people who every moment of the day mount upon the horrid Buzz,Buzz, things."
"Don't you like the Motor Omnibuses then?"
"The Buzz Buzzes you mean, child. No, I dislike them intensely, theymake such a noise both day and night that I cannot hear myself purreven. Jump up. Where do you want to go to?"
"To Balham, please, Lal."
"Ah, that's the man with the Ass, isn't it?" demanded the Lion.
For a
moment Ridgwell looked quite shocked. "Oh no, Lal, you arethinking of Balaam."
"Spelt the same way," snapped the Lion, who did not like beingcorrected upon historical matters.
"No, Lal, there is an H in Balham and people never drop it."
"Glad to hear it," grunted the Lion. "I only wish the people whocollect the pennies from the passengers upon the Buzz Buzz things wouldsay the same. Day by day," added the Lion in an aggrieved tone, "Ihear them shout out the expressions--'Olloway, 'Igate, 'Arrow. TheBoard Schools," continued the Lion in his wisest tones, "areresponsible for a most imperfect system of education."
"But, Lal," pleaded Ridgwell, "you will take me to Balham, won't you?I do not know how I should get home if you didn't take me there."
"Yes," said the Lion, "of course, I shall take you home, but youmustn't come to see me too often, you know, it's outside the four-mileradius. However," concluded the Lion, "I shall follow the tram lines.Jump up," once more commanded the Lion, "and hang on, because you knowI go at a good pace when once started."
Whereupon Ridgwell clambered upon the Pleasant-Faced Lion's back, andconvulsively hugging him half round his great neck, buried his head inthe Lion's mane and shut his eyes, whilst the Lion took a bold jumpfrom off his pedestal, and started in a brisk trot for Balham.
When they had arrived at their destination outside Ridgwell's home, theLion stood in the road and wagged his tail contentedly.
"Thank you for bringing me home, Lal," said Ridgwell as he clamberedoff the Lion's back.
"Good-night," whispered the Lion hoarsely, for after his long run hewas almost out of breath. "Mind you close the hall door safely afteryou."
The Pleasant-Faced Lion, who appeared to be pleased at having broughthis little charge home, stood in the road and purred quite loudly forsome time.
But none of the neighbours, who heard the deep sound echoing throughthe quiet road, thought of looking out of the window. They merelybelieved the sound proceeded from some powerful motor car which hadstopped in the vicinity.
Then the Pleasant-Faced Lion jogged home to his pedestal in TrafalgarSquare, well pleased with his night's work.
The Tale of Lal Page 4