‘Step forward, Melissa. Have courage! Our hopes and good wishes go with you.’
Melissa looked at the water silently lapping at her feet, with some misgivings.
‘Are you sure you want to go?’ asked Sebastian, looking rather anxious.
Melissa felt a tightening in her throat. Was she to enter that black lake? She wasn’t very good at swimming and it looked awfully deep and cold. For one moment she thought of giving in and confessing that she could not do it. But pride stopped her. She took one last look behind her and then stepped forward into the water. It closed round her ankles with a gentle rippling and she moved forward slowly. Gradually it came up to her knees. But it didn’t feel cold. It wrapped her skirt round her knees like a soft blanket. She refused to turn round in case her resolve should falter but continued to glide forward, her eyes fixed on the farther shore. By the time she reached the middle of the lake, the water was only up to her waist. The stars made brilliant points of light on the bright, still surface, which broke into a thousand fragments as she touched them. The moon swam on the black sea, pale and mournful, like a lost soul. A sudden wave made Melissa stagger and almost lose her balance, and the ground beneath her feet became rocky and more difficult. She concentrated on keeping herself upright until, with some relief, she found that the water was only up to her ankles. The next moment she was stepping on to dry land. She shook her dress and the water rolled itself into droplets and fell to the earth.
‘Why, I’m quite dry now,’ she thought to herself in surprise. Behind her the lake crept back, curling away from her feet and all was darkness. Before rose the shadow of a hill. Its crown was lit with a pale light which grew stronger as she watched. It became a broad band of gold, growing wider and deeper until it touched the depths of the sky with saffron.
‘It must be the sun rising,’ thought Melissa, feeling relieved. ‘I wonder what I should do now? If I walk up to the top of the hill, I shall be able to see all around.’ By the time she was half-way up, the sun was peering over the top of the hill, and spreading warmth and light everywhere. She looked back. The landscape was smooth and green, broken only by clumps of trees. There was no sign of Sebastian or Fandeagle, or indeed of anything that she recognized.
‘Why, this isn’t Hadlows any more,’ she thought to herself. ‘I’ve come to somewhere quite different by crossing that lake.’
She came to the top of the hill quite suddenly, for it fell away so steeply on the other side that she almost slipped over.
She gazed down at the sheer drop, her breath quite taken away with the unexpectedness of what she saw. A few feet below her water tumbled down the precipice until it came to a series of wide, shallow steps. There it became calm and blue, a pure vivid blue, like the sea after a storm, and slipped like molten glass from shelf to shelf. Strange outcrops of rock accompanied the water in its turbulent descent and grouped themselves in fantastic shapes on the broad stairs. At the end of the waterfall was a wide pool which was thrown into shadow by a mass of stone, leaning over the glinting surface.
As Melissa stood at the top of the hill a sudden wind began to blow, gently at first, and then it grew stronger, sweeping her dress and her hair out behind her. The sky deepened and the water surged even more violently. The rocks themselves seemed to shift and change shapes. Veins of green and blue flickered over stone crags and they shuddered, stirring into life. Arms and legs grew from the bleak surfaces and crowned heads with long pointed horns turned slowly on slender necks. Slanting eyes opened wide to the bright new day. And then the dance began. Slowly at first, a flowing and sweeping of shining limbs, like a breeze among frosted leaves. Then it grew faster, dipping and circling as fluid as the water beside them. Rocks they were no more, but people, each face drowned in reverie and an ecstasy of movement, their feet scarcely touching the ground. Then the singing began, faint like the sighing of the sea, then growing stronger and more savage, and the dancing grew wild and fantastic. The singing grew to a mighty shout above the roaring of the water and the scream of the wind, with a violence that made Melissa’s heart pound and the blood thrill in her cheeks. The sky became indigo and the dancers circled in a frenzy, their singing piercing the air.
Then a bolt of livid light speared the sky and struck the mass of rock at the foot of the waterfall. Melissa felt herself falling, falling, falling. It was as if the wind had taken her and flung her to the bottom of the valley, as if to smash her frail body like glass. She lay for some minutes in a dream, thinking and feeling nothing. Slowly she became aware that the sky overhead was light and the wind had dropped to a gentle whisper. She lifted her head. She lay with one foot dangling in the dark blue water of the pool. The top of the waterfall seemed a thousand miles away. She wondered how she could have fallen so far without hurting herself for, although she felt shaken and dizzy, she was able to move and her limbs were unbroken. The dancers knelt on the ground, arms stretched towards her, heads bowed, as if in obeyance to a god. There was silence. Even the water had ceased to roar and slipped over the stones with no more than a murmur.
Then the dancers lifted their heads and flung out their arms. But they were not looking at Melissa, but over her head. Melissa looked up and then shrank back in alarm. The great rock leaning over the pool was moving. A vast arm grew from the rock and stretched as if waking from a long sleep. A noble head bearing a pair of horns lifted to the sky and then a huge body stirred and slowly drew upright. It seemed almost to touch the sun. Ripples of gold ran down the massive limbs. Then he moved his foot and almost stepped on Melissa. She darted to her feet just in time and curtseyed low.
‘Well, what have we here?’ came a booming voice. And Melissa found herself being closely scrutinized by a pair of sea-green eyes, deep-set above a craggy nose and a long, curling beard.
‘My name is Melissa,’ she said in a voice which was squeaky with nervousness.
‘What a funny little voice this creature has,’ remarked the giant with amusement. All the dancers who had listened in silence, tittered among themselves.
Melissa flushed. ‘I am getting a cold,’ she said, quite untruthfully but with a marvellous dignity. ‘And I am not a creature but a girl.’
‘Of course you are,’ said the giant soothingly. ‘I was only teasing you. And of course we owe you a great deal.’
He turned to the crowd and flung up his hand for silence.
‘My people! Long have we slept, turned to barren stone by the black hand of the Evil One. And much wrong has been done to us.’ There was an angry murmur of assent from the crowd who had flocked to the edge of the pool.
‘Now our sleep has been ended by this young earth-maiden.’ The crowd cheered and Melissa blushed, this time with embarrassment.
‘Tell us, earth-maiden, how you came here?’
‘I came across a lake which Fandeagle made.’
‘Ah, Fandeagle! Great was the price he paid for his mistake. And great will be the price the Evil One will pay for daring to trick me, the great god Pan!’
The sky suddenly grew dark and there was a low growl of thunder. ‘Ah, you hear me, Zabdureth. But I, Pan, fear nothing from you. See this?’ And he flung up his great hand to the sky. A deeper rumble sounded and the sky grew light again.
‘You see! Mine is the greater power. You tricked me once when I was filled with wine, but I shall not rest until you have been undone.’
The crowd cheered again and the sun burned fiercely in the yellow sky.
Melissa was amazed at the beauty of these strange people. Their skin was smooth like silk and changed from blue to green to gold as they moved. ‘What were they?’ she wondered. Not elves or satyrs. She had seen pictures of those. Then she realized. They were water-nymphs of course. Pan was the god of the River-people. She noticed that there was a good deal of activity going on. Some of the nymphs were plucking the reeds which grew by the waterfall and plaiting them into a sheet. This they stretched over a framework of branches, so that it formed a sort of canopy. Others were diving
into the water and bringing up glistening fish and shells in their pointed teeth.
‘We shall have a great feast,’ said Pan, ‘to celebrate our awakening. Follow me, earth-maiden and we shall talk more as we eat.’
A long table of stone stood under the canopy and it was spread with every kind of fish you could think of: eels and river-trout, sticklebacks and salmon, pike and carp, plus a great mound of clams and river crabs and dishes of what looked to Melissa remarkably like waterweed. Melissa was feeling rather hungry, but much as she liked fish she wished it didn’t look quite so raw and lively still. Pan sat down cross-legged at the centre of the table and beckoned to Melissa to sit beside him. The moment she was seated one of the nymphs placed a large shell of mother-of-pearl before her and invited her to take some of the weed which lay in a green mound by her plate. Melissa helped herself to as little as she possibly could without appearing rude, and, as every one was looking at her expectantly, she placed a strand in her mouth and chewed it as well as she could. In fact, although it was rather stringy, it didn’t taste too unpleasant — rather like an old watery runner bean — so she was able to swallow it and smile as if she found it delicious. This seemed to be the signal for the feast to begin for everyone began to eat as fast as they could cram the food in their mouths. This seemed to be a strange contrast to the graceful dancing and Melissa wondered if it was because they had not been able to eat for a great many years, or just that they always ate like that. But then, as long as they didn’t get indigestion it wasn’t really very important, for no one seemed to be in the least offended by the grabbing, pushing and shoving. Melissa ate very little, for she couldn’t really say that she liked the food very much and her insides were calling out for a piece of bread and butter or anything that didn’t taste of muddy water.
Then she realized that Pan was watching her, his sea-green eyes full of laughter.
‘Poor Melissa. You don’t like our food. You shall have some wine and that will nourish and sustain you for it is made from water lilies which have a great restoring power.’
He clapped his hands and at once a curved horn was placed in Melissa’s hand and filled to the brim with a sparkling green liquid. She took a cautious sip and at once her toes began to tingle and a golden warmth spread through her body. It tasted delicious, like liquid honey and she quickly drained the horn to the last drop. She found that she no longer felt in the least hungry but very cheerful and contented. Then every one began to drink the wine and the sun blazed down on one of the merriest groups of people ever gathered in one place before.
‘See!’ cried Pan. ‘My people come.’ And he pointed towards the valley. Suddenly it seemed as if the hillside were alive. Row upon row of strange folk marched down into the valley, so many that they could not have been counted in a week. They made their way to where Pan sat. First came a host of people dressed all in white, their pale brows encircled with bands of silver and led by a man who wore a tall silver crown. He bowed to Pan and the host knelt to the ground. Pan spoke to them in a strange language and then they all drew back to make way for a crowd dressed in mantles of rushes with crowns of water lilies. They were led by a woman of great beauty, rivalling the water lilies in her hair, and they in turn bowed to Pan who greeted them graciously. They were followed by a people clothed in mist. A fine spray swirled about their bodies and fell on the banqueters, much to everyone’s delight for it was wonderfully cooling. The only solid and substantial thing about these people were their eyes, blue and shining.
Host upon host followed them, all strange and beautiful. Melissa wished she could remember them all, but the wine and the hot sun had made her feel light-headed and already the glorious visions were fading from her memory. At last it seemed as if they had all come and in fact there was no more room in the valley for more. There was not a blade of grass nor a single stone visible among the shimmering multitude. And miraculously they were all being served with food. Dish upon dish of glistening fish and piles of rushes were being handed out from the table and horns brimming with wine passed from hand to hand.
Pan looked on the valley with love and pride, and when he turned to Melissa his eyes were so bright that she could hardly bear to look into them.
‘How glorious are my people and how deep shall be the cup of bitterness for the Evil One now that I have awoken. And I owe much to you, earth-maiden. Speak! What will you have as your reward?’
‘I have come for the Water of the Elixir,’ said Melissa. ‘From the Spring of Pan. And if you will help me with this I need no other reward.’
Pan’s face grew thoughtful. Then he spoke. ‘Undoubtedly you are a brave earthling, but what can you do compared with the might of Pan? I know I do not have the other parts, but even one part of the Elixir will give me greater strength. No, it is too precious to give up. It does not please me to do so.’
‘But you must!’ cried Melissa in astonishment. ‘I have been sent by Fandeagle to get it. You have no right to withhold it.’
Pan’s eyebrows drew together and his face darkened. ‘Right? Who dares to speak to Pan of rights? Pan’s word is law in his own kingdom. And I say again, the Water of the Elixir is too precious to give up. Go back to where you came from before I become angry.’
Melissa’s heart sank. Who would have thought that a god could be so capricious? All the pleasant effects of the wine had vanished and she began to feel cold. The sun was lower in the sky and had taken on a reddish hue. But she could not go without the Water of the Elixir.
‘In spite of your anger, Pan, God of the River, I say again — I must have the Water of the Elixir!’
Her words sounded thinly in the cooling air. Then Pan gave a roar and brought his fist crashing down on the table. Melissa covered her eyes with her hands, feeling terribly afraid.
‘Wait, your Majesty, my most noble master,’ came a sharp voice, suddenly. ‘Would you be considered unjust even by an earth-maiden? You are renowned for your mercy and beneficence. Let there be fair trial between you and the earth-maiden and it shall be proved before the eyes of all who is worthy to have the precious Water.’
Melissa looked to see who had spoken. It was the nymph who had sat beside Pan throughout the feast and seemed to hold some authority over the others. It was obvious that she stood very little chance of winning a trial against Pan, but at least it gave her a little more time. And the idea seemed to amuse Pan, for the anger had abated a little from his voice as he turned to her and said, ‘What do you think, earth-maiden? Does the suggestion of my sage counsellor meet with your agreement?’
‘All right,’ said Melissa. ‘Although I think you have rather a lot of size and strength on your side.’
‘True,’ said Pan, and laughed. Rather nastily she thought. ‘But we shall even the odds a little. You shall choose the game. What can you do? Hurl a javelin? Toss a shield? Spear a running hare?’
‘I can run,’ said Melissa, a little doubtfully. She knew she couldn’t possibly run as fast as Pan, but she’d never even held a javelin and the thought of spearing a hare was too horrible, even if she had had the skill.
‘Very well. Running it shall be,’ said Pan. ‘And so you can never say “Pan was not fair”, I shall run twice the distance that you run. I shall begin here,’ he pointed to a spot a few yards from where they sat, ‘and you shall begin up there where the waterfall glides out on to the rocks. The victor is the first one to reach that boulder by the head of the spring.’
Melissa looked up to where the setting sun turned the spouting water-head to crimson and her heart sank. It was a long, long way and all uphill. She doubted if she would be able to make the distance at a crawl, let alone running.
‘You see how noble and gallant our great lord is?’ said the nymph who had spoken before. ‘How great is his wisdom and justice!’
Melissa cast him an unfavourable look. Everyone must know as well as she how heavily the odds were weighed against her. Pan seemed in no doubt of his victory, for he was smiling broadly, his good hum
our quite restored.
‘Well, my lady,’ he said with a mocking bow. ‘If you will be so good as to ascend to your starting place, the race shall begin.’
Melissa stood up slowly and with great dignity began to walk up the hill. It was not easy even at this stage for the rock was slippery and there were not many footholds. Small pebbles became loose under her feet and went clattering down to the watching crowd. She forced herself not to hurry for she would need all her breath for the race and she was determined to do her utmost to win, even though a small voice in her head was telling her it was impossible. By the time she reached the top of the first terrace she was already a little weary and she had two more to climb before the race would even begin. Her heart was lightened a little when she saw that from the place where she was to begin, the slope became more grassy and, although very steep, it looked as if it would offer more of a foothold. The next few minutes were an agony to her nerves and her toes, the latter being stubbed many times on sharp pieces of rock. Her mind was turning endlessly, wondering how she was to break the news of her failure to Sebastian and Fandeagle on her return. For she had little doubt that Pan would let her return. Selfish and proud he might be, but she didn’t think he was actually wicked. Fandeagle had said he would be near to help her in need. Well, she was in need now and yet it seemed that she would have to make the final desperate attempt for the Water of the Elixir on her own.
By now she had reached the place where she was to begin. She looked down at the waiting crowd. Their faces were turned up towards her and Pan stood waiting, his horns glinting red in the dying sun. She looked up. The boulder gleamed, sharp and remote, above her head. She tried to slow her thumping heart and waited.
The House Called Hadlows Page 5