CHAPTER IV
PREPARING FOR A VISITOR
Upon the third day after bidding good-bye to their strange friend, thechildren felt they had every reason to be excited as to what events theday would bring forth, to say nothing of endless speculations as to themanner in which their most uncommon visitor might choose to appear tothem.
Consequently after Ridgwell had opened his birthday presents the firstthing in the morning, he held a sort of council of war with Christine.
"You see, Chris, fortunately the house hasn't any underneath part,"explained Ridgwell, "so that we can keep watch, both of us, all on onefloor so to speak. You take guard of the French windows in thedrawing-room where you can see the greater part of the garden, and Iwill watch the windows of the dining-room, where I can see the roadboth ways up to the house."
"Shan't we get tired of always looking at the same spot?" objectedChristine.
"I have thought of a plan for that, Chris. When either of us want achange, just shout out, 'Sister Ann, sister Ann, do you see anybodycoming?'"
"I see," nodded Christine, "everybody will only think we are playing agame."
"Then," pursued Ridgwell, full of inspiration, "if Lal isn't looming insight anywhere, the other will shout out, 'Not a sail in the offing,'then we change over rooms."
"Anyway Lal couldn't sail, could he?" queried Christine.
"You don't know how he might come," whispered Ridgwell. "He might evencome in a motor car, and anyway it's only so that other people shan'tunderstand."
"It seems to me," remarked Christine logically, "that people won'tunderstand him anyway, and less when they see him than when they don't."
"It's an anxious time, isn't it, Chris?"
"Very," assented Christine, "and anyhow we shall have to drop Cookie ahint, because you see her window in the kitchen looks over a part ofthe garden that we can't see from the drawing-room."
"Of course," mused Ridgwell, "the weak spot about Cookie is that shegets shocks so quickly."
"She's sure to get one to-day," commenced Christine hopefully, "whenLal comes."
"Very well then, we'll give her a sort of hint," suggested Ridgwell.
Now Cookie, beloved of the children, to say nothing of the householdgenerally, was a fat person, with very red cheeks, and verygood-humoured rolling green eyes that somehow always looked as if theyhad been originally intended for gooseberries, which had boiled andbubbled during her many cooking operations and had never been permittedto simmer.
"What do you children want in the kitchen?" commenced Cookie. "MasterRidgie, you know quite well that your birthday cake ain't to be readytill tea-time."
"But, Cookie dear," commenced Ridgwell insinuatingly.
Cookie dear continued the mystic rights over which she presided as highpriestess, her vermilion red hands and arms continued to splash aboutin a very big basin, where she contrived to throw up little waves ofvery white flour as if she were about to take a morning dip in it, yethesitated before taking the plunge. These mysterious rites having beenaccomplished and the flour having as it were received a final blessingfrom Cookie's hands, Cookie commenced to beat up eggs.
"I know you've come wheedling for something," objected Cookie, "and youain't going to 'ave it, Master Ridgie. Why, you've only just finishedyour breakfast."
"I don't want anything to eat," announced Ridgwell.
Cookie eyes boiled and rolled ominously, whilst a sort of faint concernappeared upon the surface of them. "If you can't eat, Master Ridgie,then you must be ill and want some medicine."
"No, no," hastily interposed Ridgwell, "I don't want any medicine, weonly came in to ask you a question."
"Well, you can't ask me any of your questions now, I'm busy," assertedCookie. "Ain't got no time."
"Oh, Cookie dear, you can listen whilst you beat up an egg,"expostulated Ridgwell.
"_Egg!_" shouted Cookie indignantly, "three blessed eggs for your cake,and 2 1/2d. each, new laid too, and I only bought a dozen of 'em."
"Yes, yes, Cookie dear. I meant three eggs, the number doesn't matter,and it won't take a minute for us to tell you. It's just this.Suppose a great big beautiful Lion came and sat in the middle of theraspberry canes just outside your kitchen door, what would you do?"
"Is this a conundrum?" demanded Cookie. "If so, I don't know no answerto it, Master Ridgie."
"It isn't a riddle, Cookie, at all. If a Lion really came to see you,what would you do?"
"I should fetch a policeman at once," announced Cookie.
Ridgwell smiled. "A policeman wouldn't be any good, Cookie! Really,you know, he couldn't do anything."
"Then I should fetch two policemen," said Cookie, shortly andconclusively. Cookie, at this point in the argument, beat the threenew-laids at such a furious rate, that the foam of them whirled roundand round very much like the agitated thoughts of Cookie herself atbeing confronted with such an outrageous problem the first thing in themorning.
"'Owever," amended Cookie, "afore I went to fetch them policemen, I'dthrow all the boiling green water over him, from the window first, andsee if that wouldn't shift 'im."
Both Ridgwell and Christine laughed outright, the idea was tooridiculous. To think of their friendly and Pleasant-Faced Lal comingto make a society call and having boiling cabbage water thrown over hisstately head, was altogether too much for their gravity.
"How indignant he would be," laughed Ridgwell. "Oh! Chris only thinkhow hurt he would feel as he shook the stuff off his mane and whiskers!"
This imaginary picture, however, seemed to be too much for Christine,so she determined to speak seriously to Cookie.
"Cookie," said Christine in her most earnest manner, "a lion may arriveoutside this door (pointing to the article in question in a mostimpressive fashion) at any moment to-day."
"Yes," added Ridgwell, "and we only want you to be prepared."
Cookie's eyes seemed to boil a little faster for a moment, appeared toswell in fact and be altogether overdone, as she fixed her orbs uponthe door in question, then up went Cookie's apron over her head, andalas! down went the three new-laid at 2 1/2d. each, all spilled uponthe floor, and the cup broken as well.
At this moment the children instinctively realised that discretion wassometimes the better part of valour, and made speedy preparations tovacate in favour of other quarters of the house, not, however, beforethey could hear Cookie moaning beneath her apron:
"Escaped I s'pose, oh! mighty 'Eavens! escaped from the CrystalPalace, or the Zoo, or a circus or somethink, oh, it ain't safe livingin England! Blowed if I don't bolt the kitchen door, and nobody warnedme or told me it was in the morning papers. Thank goodness I've takenin the milk, and them three eggs all spoiled. Only nine left now,"moaned Cookie, "and cutlets and pancakes for lunch too."
"Come, Chris," whispered Ridgwell. "You see we can't expect muchsupport from Cookie."
"No," agreed Christine, as they departed for the dining-room. "Howabout Mother? Let's hear what she says."
"Yes," assented Ridgwell. "You see Mother is very nice and kind alwaysto anybody who calls, and perhaps if she spoke to Lal and welcomed hima bit when he comes, he might feel at home at once."
"I can't think where we are going to ask him to sit, can you, Ridgie?You see," explained Christine, "it's so inhospitable to leave him inthe hall, and if he walks into the drawing-room and swishes his taileven contentedly, all the china would go over at once."
"No, Chris, Lal is much too well mannered to do anything like that, butI'm afraid the only place for him will be the hearth-rug in front ofthe fire. Stop a minute, Chris, I've got it. Of course, the sofa inthe drawing-room. Nobody must sit on the sofa at all to-day, then itwill be all ready for him when he comes, and we shall only have to tuckhim in a bit at the sides if he's too big."
Matters were not much better understood in the drawing-room, for a ladyvisitor had just called and was waiting for Mother to come down. Mrs.Tallcat was a lady who always deemed it her duty to call
once a weekupon everybody, whether people wished to see her or whether they didnot wish to see her.
Had a census of opinion been taken concerning Mrs. Tallcat's calls,Mrs. Tallcat would have found, much to her astonishment no doubt, thatshe possessed very few votes, and no votes at all from children.
"Would you very much mind if you didn't sit upon the sofa?" commencedRidgwell gently.
Mrs. Tallcat, always inclined towards huffiness at a moment's notice,consequently selected a chair.
"Is the sofa likely to give way?" inquired Mrs. Tallcat suspiciously.
"No," explained Christine, "it is because it is so strong and firm onits legs that we have chosen it."
"I never allow _my_ boy to play upon the sofa," sniffed Mrs. Tallcat,as if she were referring to a piano.
"It isn't to play upon," remarked Ridgwell, "but we are expecting avery, very solid visitor."
Mrs. Tallcat sniffed for the second time. "I never allow my boy tomake any remarks whatever upon visitors who call," responded Mrs.Tallcat icily.
"Oh, Lal doesn't mind," said Christine cheerfully.
"Who is Lal?" inquired Mrs. Tallcat, "a gentleman friend of yourfather's?"
"No," said Ridgwell, "Lal is a lion, and Father doesn't know him yet."
"Tut, tut, tut," snapped Mrs. Tallcat crossly. "Directly _my_ boybegins to talk nonsense I send him straight to bed."
"It's bad for the health to go to bed at the wrong time," suggestedRidgwell pensively.
"My boy always does as he's told," announced Mrs. Tallcat triumphantly;"if he doesn't, he is whipped."
At this point a new idea suddenly struck Ridgwell. "Chris," hewhispered audibly, "we must somehow get the old cat out of the way."
Mrs. Tallcat instantly bridled, and her face became inflamed withanger. "How _dare_ you!" commenced the indignant lady.
"I mean the _other_ cat," explained Ridgwell, "our own cat."
The explanation, although convincing, was perhaps ambiguous. It wasundoubtedly fortunate that Mother timed her appearance at this point toa nicety, and so prevented any further complications.
"Dreadful time her boy must have, don't you think, eh, Chris?" askedRidgwell.
Christine nodded.
"Only fancy, Chris," pursued Ridgwell, "calling her little boy Tom.Tom Tallcat; why, he'll be chaffed no end at school. I do feel sorryfor him; and then the way she dresses him, coloured velvet and abrigand's hat with a feather in it, just as if he was part of a circus.I'm glad Mother doesn't dress me like that. The other day I met himand he'd got a bow and arrow. She'd actually sent him into the streetwith a bow and arrow. I said 'Hullo, Robin Hood,' not meaninganything, and he began to cry; it was awkward, and I'm sure he feelsit. Father said that the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Childrenought to interfere, but I think that was perhaps only one of Father'sjokes."
"I think," suggested Mother, who had caught audible fragments of thisconversation, "I think you children had better run away now and play."
The morning appeared to go quite quickly up to the cutlets and thepancake stage.
The late afternoon shadows threw their creeping patterns over bothlawns, and still there was no sign whatever of their eccentric friendLal.
Tea-time came and passed, and then the shadows grew deeper, first blue,then violet, then black, the trees and shrubs could scarcely bedistinguished at all; and, as ill luck would have it, there was no moon.
At length the time arrived when the family not unreasonably suggestedthat the blinds of the house should be pulled down. Here was adilemma. How was it possible to warn the household of thePleasant-Faced Lion's approach if the blinds were pulled down? WhenRidgwell found, in spite of much lingering, that the last crumb of cakehad been consumed, to say nothing of the last currant which he had madelast quite a long time, and that the third summons to go to bed musthave some sort of notice taken of it, he resigned himself to theinevitable, and with a hopeless look at Christine, prepared to talk toFather.
Father was reading quite quietly, and apparently deeply engrossed in abook, and somehow that didn't help matters.
"Please, Father, would you mind very much if the hall door and the backdoor were both left wide open all night?"
Father considered this somewhat odd request for a space, then inquiredwith a stray gleam of amusement in his eyes, "Do you consider the housestuffy? Or have you suddenly adopted one of the Futurist ideasconcerning Health?"
"No, it isn't that, but Chris and I expect somebody; no, I mean_something_, and we should be so disappointed if it, no, I mean _he_didn't come."
"Rather a late visitor," said Father, "and rather an inconsiderate oneif this quite Eastern welcome of him includes us all catching our deathof cold. No, Ridgie, I'm afraid he will have to knock."
"But, Father, I'm not sure he can knock."
"Then ring," suggested their parent, "nice new electric bell I've justhad fixed up. He's only got to push the button."
"Perhaps he doesn't understand about electric bells," objected Ridgwell.
"Your friend seems a trifle old-fashioned," observed Father,good-naturedly.
"And then," said Ridgwell, "his paw is so big he might never find thebell-push."
"I see; a dog, eh?"
"No, bigger than a dog, much."
"Well, then, say a donkey."
"No, Father, bigger than a dog, and not so big as a donkey."
"I give it up," said Father, "but I promise whatever he is he shall beattended to and entertained if possible."
"I cannot think what you will say to him," debated Ridgwell anxiously.
"I will do my best, Ridgwell; but from your description I shouldimagine the conversation will be a little one-sided. However,"remarked Father drily, "perhaps he can be persuaded to smoke, or drink."
"No, Father, he never smokes, and he only drinks water."
"Ah! very abstemious," murmured Father; "perhaps he is a vegetarian aswell, sounds like it, and they are always the most difficult people toentertain."
At this moment the conversation was interrupted by a loud knocking atthe front door, and immediately the new electric bell soundedthroughout the house. Ridgwell and Christine nearly tumbled over oneanother in order to get to the hall door first.
"It's Lal after all," shouted Ridgwell.
"Sure to be," chimed in Christine.
At length in the struggle the hall door was opened, but it wasn't theform of the Pleasant-Faced Lion who greeted them, only Mr. Jollyface, afriend of Father's and a happy, jolly old bachelor, who loved both ofthe children.
"Anybody with you?" inquired Ridgwell anxiously, as he peered eitherside of Mr. Jollyface's portly form.
"No, only me," chuckled Mr. Jollyface. "Whom are you expecting? Gladto find you children up; I've got something for you in my pocket,Master Ridgie; your birthday, isn't it?"
"Yes," confessed Ridgwell, but it could be plainly seen that his formerenthusiasm had died a sudden death. "But do tell me, Mr. Jollyface,did you see anything as you came along?"
"Lots of things," replied Mr. Jollyface, cheerily.
"A lion?" whispered Ridgwell mysteriously.
"No," debated Mr. Jollyface, "no, I think I may say that a lion was theonly thing I didn't see."
"Oh, Mr. Jollyface, are you sure?"
"Yes," replied Mr. Jollyface gravely, "I can really be quite certainupon that point."
"If you had seen a great lion, Mr. Jollyface, what would you have done?"
"I think," debated Mr. Jollyface, as he prepared to disencumber himselfof his great-coat, "I think I should have wished him good-evening andpassed politely, like the--ahem--Levite, on the opposite side of theway."
"Oh, Mr. Jollyface," sighed Ridgwell, "if you only knew we have waitedall day long for a lion."
"Now, that's very funny," whispered Mr. Jollyface, "for I have actuallybrought one for you in my pocket, I have really. Here it is,"announced the imperturbable Mr. Jollyface, as he produced a parcel fromhis pocket and thrust it into Ridgw
ell's hand.
"No, no, not that sort of lion," remonstrated Ridgwell.
"Well, perhaps this one would do," suggested Mr. Jollyface. "It's thebest sort of lion, you know, really, and made of the very finestchocolate, too."
Here a well-known voice was heard to remark: "If I have to speak to youchildren once more about going to bed there will be trouble."
"Scamper off," exclaimed the good-natured Mr. Jollyface; then he added,"you know you can eat chocolate in bed quite as well as you cananywhere else. I used to enjoy it as a boy more than I should havedone upon a plate in the dining-room. Off you go; good-night, kids."
Thereupon Father claimed Mr. Jollyface, and as the children slowlymounted the stairs they could hear him saying: "So it was you thechildren were waiting for, and the animal friend they expected was achocolate lion, eh?"
"Very likely," agreed Mr. Jollyface. "Ha! ha! ha! so they have beenpuzzling you, my old friend, eh?"
"Well, children's riddles are very difficult to guess," said Father,"and yet they are always so simple."
"Chris," observed Ridgwell dejectedly, as they reached their room andturned the handle of the door, "they none of them understand; isn't itdreadful? and they are grown up, too, and really ought to know."
"We've waited and waited, Ridgie, and there's nothing else to be done;Lal won't come now, and he's never broken his word before, has he?"
"He might come, Chris; let's roll up the blind."
"No, the garden looks the same as it always does; there isn't a thingin sight. Suppose we don't go to sleep just yet and keep awake a bit;Lal might come and throw a stone at the window."
"Let's eat the chocolate," suggested Chris, who was occasionallypractical, "while we wait."
Ridgwell untied the small parcel, a wooden box, about half the size ofone of Father's cigar-boxes, and appeared to be made of the same kindof brown wood.
Disclosed to view at length, the birthday present was seen to be afairly large chocolate lion lying upon a pedestal. The entiresweet-meat model was covered in thick golden paper; this was quicklystripped off, and Ridgwell did the honours as possessor.
"I'll eat his head half, Chris, and give you the other half; I thinkthat's a fair division."
"Right," agreed Christine; "we can't eat more than that to-night, andthe pedestal part will do for the morning."
"I can't understand Lal disappointing us to-night as he has done," saidRidgwell, as he slowly munched his chocolate. "Can you, Chris?"
"No--isn't this chocolate good, Ridgie?"
"Yes, but fancy having to be contented with a chocolate lion when weknow a real one! On my birthday too, and yet he promised faithfully weshould see him again."
"He has forgotten us," confessed the children as they went to bed.
"Suppose he has too much to think of," said Ridgie; "he can't remembereverything."
Christine never knew quite how long she had been asleep that night,before she distinctly heard muffled mutterings from her brotherRidgie's bed the other side of their little room. Surely Ridgiecouldn't be saying his prayers at this time of night; then Christinewas certain she heard half-smothered sobs.
"Ridgie, what's the matter; are you crying?" demanded Christine. Thesobs became very audible now, and even an apparent effort to stiflethem with the bed-clothes did not seem in any way to lessen them.
Christine pressed the button of the electric light, and in the suddenillumination regarded her brother across the room.
"Ridgie, why are you crying? are you in pain? have you eaten too much?"
"No," sobbed Ridgie, "no, but oh! Chrissie, I've--I've--we've eatenLal."
Christine sat up in bed.
"Ridgie," demanded Christine, "are you dreaming?"
"No," whispered Ridgie, between his sobs; "don't you remember--
Christian child or Pagan child Which is my denomination? Have I eaten dear old Lal In my birthday celebration?
Here, overcome by recollections, Ridgwell broke down completely. "I_have_ eaten him," moaned Ridgwell; "at least, _we've_ eaten him, foryou helped. He said we should eat him, and we've done it. That's howLal meant to come to us; now, I remember, it was exactly like him.Just as--as he is in Trafalgar Square on his pedestal. Oh, Chris,after all the Christians have eaten a lion; he said we should; wearen't Christians any longer, we're Pagans, and--and," confessedRidgwell with a final outburst, "I feel like a cannibal; it's beastly."
Christine had become quite pale during this recital; but she thoughtfor awhile before replying.
"Perhaps, Ridgie, Lal meant us to eat him--I mean his likeness inchocolate--all the time, and most likely he isn't angry with us at all.He might have arranged it all as a joke."
"It isn't a joke at all," sniffed Ridgwell, "it's horrible. We haveeaten one of our very best friends. Oh! if only the Order of GreatImagination hadn't been taken away from us!"
"I am not so sure, Ridgie," observed Christine, with feminineintuition, "that you have lost _all_ your order of imagination; I thinkyou have still a lot left, or you would never have discovered Lal'sriddle."
It was Ridgwell's turn now to sit up in bed, and he asked eagerly--
"Do you really think it was only a riddle, Chris, and Lal meant only tohave a joke with us?"
Christine nodded gravely.
"I feel very comforted with that," said Ridgwell, "so turn off thelight, Chris, and we'll go to sleep again; but oh, won't I just tellLal next time I pass him in Trafalgar Square!"
Some few moments afterwards in the darkness Christine answered--
"You hadn't better make any remarks to Lal in public; you know hecautioned us about attracting a crowd."
"Crowd or no crowd, I mean to tell him what I think of him," assertedRidgwell before he turned over and went to sleep.
* * * * *
The clock in the hall was just chiming twelve, and Mr. Jollyface wastaking his departure.
Father and Mother were wishing him good-night and thanking him forbringing the chocolate lion for Ridgwell.
"It is really quite remarkable how I came to buy it," agreed Mr.Jollyface; "but I was passing through Trafalgar Square when Iremembered that I hadn't bought Ridgie a present, and the sight of thecorner lion, as I crossed the Square, made me remember a sweetstuffmodel of him I had seen in a chocolate shop in the Strand, so I wentand bought it. But really the most wonderful thing about it is thealmost uncanny intelligence of your children. Bless my soul! theycouldn't have known I had bought it; and yet, would you believe it,they actually expected a lion, and asked me if I had brought one withme."
"Yes," agreed Father, "it's very wonderful; they were trying todescribe a lion before you came in. I think at times children musthave second sight, and that is why I am afraid we sometimes do notunderstand them. Good-night, Jollyface; come and see us again soon."
The Tale of Lal Page 7