by Enid Blyton
She got Black Beauty out easily. She slipped on to his back, whispered into his ear, and cantered quickly to the nearest hedge. She did not dare to go out of the big field-gate, for she was certain to be seen if she did. So she set Black Beauty at the high hedge, and the horse rose beautifully into the air, cleared the hedge, and galloped over the next field. Lotta was safe!
Lotta rode on all that afternoon. She had stopped a party of school-children and asked them which was the way to Devon. They stared at the bright-eyed little girl on her beautiful horse, and thought she wasmarvellous. One boy got out his school atlas from his bag.
“Look,” he said, “I’ll show you exactly where you are now, and you will see that Devon is the next county to this. This is Dorset.”
He opened the atlas, and showed her the map of England. Lotta had learnt just a little geography from Mrs. Brown, and she looked closely at the map.
“What a lucky thing for me that Devon is the next county, and not somewhere right at the top of the map!” she said. “Does your map show a place called Langley Holme, boy?”
“No,” said the boy, looking at it, “It doesn’t. Whereabouts is it?”
“I wouldn’t be asking you if I knew,” said Lotta. “Oh dear—how am I to know if Langley Holme is at the top of Devon or at the bottom.”
“It’s on the south coast, near a big port called Plymouth,” said a little girl shyly. “My auntie used to live there. That’s how I know. Show her Plymouth on the map, John.”
Plymouth was easy to see. “That’s good,” said Lotta, pleased. “It’s on the sea-coast, isn’t it? I must just look out for sign-posts marked Plymouth, and go steadily on till I get there. Then I can ask for Langley Holme.”
She galloped off, and the school-children looked after her admiringly.
Lotta rode on steadily, delighted to see “Plymouth” on a sign-post at the next cross-roads. She made up her mind to give Black Beauty a good long rest about seven o’clock, and a feed and water, and then to ride on all the night. “Then if people start looking for me, trying to get me back before I’ve seen Mr. Galliano, they won’t be able to—because I’ll have nearly got there tomorrow,” she said to her doll Rosemary, who was sitting just infront of Lotta, smiling away as if she was really enjoying her strange ride.
At seven o’clock Lotta and Black Beauty took their rest. Black Beauty was a strong horse and was not at all tired. He was longing to gallop on and on with his little mistress sitting sturdily on his back. He could not understand why Lotta and he were going so far, but he didn’t care. He would take Lotta to the end of the world if she wanted him to!
At nine o’clock they were off again, the doll sitting in front of Lotta once more. The moon rose after a while, and it was easy for Lotta to read the sign-posts. Many people stared in wonder at the curly-haired girl riding on so steadily, but she was gone before they could even shout to ask her where she was going.
All night long the little girl rode on. When dawn came she was so tired that she could no longer sit on Black Beauty’s back. She saw an old rick standing in a field and slipped off her horse. She gave him a drink and a rub, and then told him to eat the grass. She cuddled up against the rick, shut her eyes, and at once fell fast asleep.
Nobody saw her there, and nobody saw Black Beauty, who soon came to lie down near his sleeping mistress. It was noon when Lotta awoke and stretched herself. She remembered where she was, and leapt to her feet. She rinsed her face in a little stream and shook back her curls. She finished up all the food she had brought with her, and leapt on to Black Beauty’s back again. The horse whinnied with joy. So he and Lotta were to go galloping on once more!
Plymouth was farther than Lotta thought, but gradually the miles shown on each sign-post grew less and less—and at last, towards evening, another name appeared on a sign-post. Lotta squealed with joy.
“Langley Holme, two miles. Oh, Black Beauty, we are nearly there! We don’t even have to go to Plymouth. It’s before we come to Plymouth. Come on—we’ll soon see dear old Mr. Galliano and Mrs. Galliano too! You’ve never seen them, Rosemary—but you’ll love them.”
She galloped on, very tired now, but much happier; and soon she came to a quiet little seaside place, with a pretty sandy beach where people bathed. On a little hill nearby stood a big hotel, with golden letters across it: “British Hotel.”
“Just the place we’re looking for,” said Lotta happily. She rode down the street that led to the sea, turned up along the promenade, and went on towards the big hotel. A great many people sat on a verandah outside, drinking, and eating ices. How they stared when the dirty, untidy little girl rode up, her horse’s hooves sounding loudly in the street!
Lotta gazed along the row of surprised people, looking for Mr. Galliano. Everyone stared at her. Whatever did this strange little girl want? What was she doing here, stopping outside the hotel, staring at everyone? The hall-porter came out and spoke sharply to her.
“Go away! Don’t stare like that, little girl.”
“Is Mr. Galliano here?” asked Lotta. “I want Mr. Galliano.”
“I certainly shan’t tell any of our guests that you want him,” said the rude porter. “Now, go away.”
Lotta stared at him, her lips beginning to tremble, for she was very tired and anxious. And then, just as she was turning Black Beauty round, she heard an enormous shout.
“LOTTA! MY LITTLE LOTTA! What are you doing here?” And out of the hotel rushed dear old Galliano, his eyes nearly falling out of his head in surprise!
Lotta Gets Her Way
LOTTA gave a squeal of joy. Yes—it was Mr. Galliano, though he looked quite different, dressed in white flannels and a shirt, instead of in his usual riding-breeches, top-boots, and top-hat. He was fatter, too, but his jolly face was just the same, and his moustaches stuck up stiffly as they always did.
“LOTTA!” he yelled. “Is it really Lotta?”
“Yes,” said Lotta, and she slipped down from Black Beauty. She was so tired that her legs would not stand under her. Mr. Galliano picked her up in his arms, nodded to the porter to take Black Beauty, and carried the little girl into the hotel. Everyone stared in amazement, but neither Lotta nor Galliano cared. Let them stare!
Galliano took Lotta into his own sitting-room, and there sat Mrs. Galliano, much thinner and paler, but with her same gentle smile. How amazed she was to see Lotta in Galliano’s arms!
“Lotta!” she cried. “How did you come here? Is anyone with you?”
“Only Black Beauty and Rosemary,” said Lotta, setting her doll down beside Mrs. Galliano. She looked happily round, and settled herself comfortably on Galliano’s knee. She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him. She took Mrs. Galliano’s hand and squeezed it. Tears came into her eyes and fell down her cheeks, but she smiled all the time because she was so happy to be with the Gallianos once more.
Mrs. Galliano pressed a bell nearby, and ordered hotmilk and biscuits for Lotta from the waiter. “Eat and drink before you tell your story,” she said. “There is plenty of time.”
So Lotta ate and drank—but she told her story at once, with her mouth full, for she could not wait.
“Oh, Mr. Galliano, your circus is all breaking up,” she said. “Mr. Wally’s going, and Mr. Volla, and Tonky, and Oona, and Jimmy, and—”
“But why?” cried Galliano in astonishment. “Nobody told me this. Each time I hear from Britomart he tells me how marvellously the show has been going, and what a lot of money comes in, yes! What is the matter then?”
“Oh, the show has gone well,” said Lotta, “but, Mr. Galliano, we do hate Britomart so. Do you know that he has never once smiled since you left?”
“Well, I can’t see that that matters much,” said Galliano, puzzled. “Something more must have happened besides that, yes!”
So Lotta told how stern Britomart had been, how he had forbidden Jimmy to play with the animals, how Sammy was moping, how Mr. Wally had quarrelled with the ring-master, and how she, Lo
tta, had been forbidden to go into the ring for something that was not her fault.
“And oh, Mr. Galliano, everyone is so angry and miserable, and nobody will stay with Britomart—except Lal and Laddo, who signed a paper to say they would stay with the circus for a year. And that means I have to stay too. And I just couldn’t stay without Jimmy and Lucky, so I came to find you and tell you. Mr. Galliano, dear Mr. Galliano, can’t you do something?”
Then Mrs. Galliano spoke in her slow, soft voice. “My little Lotta, there is only one thing for Galliano to do. He must go back. He cannot see his famous circus split up so that there is nothing for him to return to when I am better.”
“But, Tessa, you are not better yet—and I promised you that I would stay until you too were well enough to come back to the circus, yes!” said Mr. Galliano, rubbing his right ear in a very worried manner. “I cannot break my promise, no.”
“You want to make me happy, Galliano, don’t you?” went on Mrs. Galliano. “Well, I shall only be happy if you go back and become ring-master again in your own circus. I will not go to the South of France. I will stay here in this peaceful place, where I have my friends around me. And in six months’ time I too will come back. I am so much better already! If you stay here with me, and let your circus go to pieces, I shall be so sad that I shall fall ill again. And you would not like that, Galliano.”
“No—no, indeed, I should not like that,” said the ring-master, gazing at his wife anxiously. “Well, Tessa, you are always right, yes. I know that. Never have you given me bad advice, no, never. So I will go back to Galliano’s Circus, and it shall be mine once more! And Britomart must go!”
Lotta gave such a squeal that Mrs. Galliano jumped. The little girl flung herself on Mrs. Galliano and pressed her cheek to hers. “Oh, Mrs. Galliano, you dear, kind, unselfish person! Can you really spare Mr. Galliano to come back to us? We do want him so much. Oh, how glad I am I came and told you everything!”
“Now, now, you must leave me some breath, child!” said Mrs. Galliano, laughing. “Yes, of course Galliano must go back. Why, if he does not return soon to his circus, he will be so fat with sitting about that he will not be able to get into his riding-breeches and coat any more! A fat ring-master is a poor sight.”
Lotta was so excited and glad that she could not keep still. “I want to ride straight back and tell the others,” she cried. “Where’s Black Beauty? I’ll start now and tell everyone else. Oh, how glad they will be!”
“No, no, Lotta, you can’t do that,” said Mrs. Galliano. “You are tired out. You must stay here for the night. You will like to see this hotel. It has a fine big bath with taps that run hot and cold water, and a towel-rail that keeps your towels warm and dry. And—”
But Lotta would not listen. “I’m not tired,” she cried, “I’m not, I’m not! Oh, do let me get Black Beauty and go back again! I know the way.”
“My dear child, even if you are not tired out, Black Beauty is,” said Galliano. “You don’t want to ruin him by over-riding, do you? He will be no use if you do.”
“Oh no, I don’t!” said Lotta at once. “Yes—he must be tired, the darling. I’ll go and see to him. Come on, Rosemary.”
“No, Lotta,” said Mrs. Galliano. “There are men to see to Black Beauty, and he will be quite happy. You are to come to my room and go to bed. I will have a little bed put by our big one, and you will love to sleep there.”
Lotta really was so tired that she could hardly walk to the big bedroom, whose windows looked out over the calm blue sea. She had a bath in a marvellous green bath, and dried herself with a big soft towel from the hot towel-rail. Then she ate some ice-cream pudding, curled up in the dear little bed beside Mrs. Galliano’s, and fell fast asleep in a trice. The doll lay beside her, its long-lashed eyes closed, just like Lotta’s.
The two Gallianos looked down on the little girl, and then looked across at one another. “She is a wild little thing,” said Mrs. Galliano, “but how full of courage she is! It is good that she came to tell you all that has happened, Galliano. You have been fretting for your circus, I know—and now it is clear that you must go back.”
Mr. Galliano sent a telegram to Lal to say that Lotta was safe with them. Lal could not believe her eyes when she read that Lotta was in Langley Holme with the Gallianos!
“But how did she get there—how did she know the way—why did she run away to them—how did she know where they were?” she kept saying to everyone a hundred times. But nobody knew the answers. Only Jimmy smiled a little secret smile to himself.
“Lotta could do anything in the world if she once made up her mind to do it,” he thought proudly. “There’s no stopping that little monkey if she means to do something. I’m often cross with her, and would like to shake her, but she’s a dear, brave girl and I’m proud of her. I know why she went to the Gallianos—to tell them about Britomart. I wonder if they’ll be able to do anything. My word—Britomart looks as black as thunder now he knows where Lotta is!”
And Britomart certainly did look black! His great eyebrows met together as he frowned over the telegram that Lal showed him. He almost threw it back at Lal.
“I won’t have that child of yours in any circus of mine,” he said.
“But we can’t send Lotta to another circus when we are with your show!” said Lal. “If you mean that, Mr Britomart, we can’t come with you. We can’t desert Lotta.”
“Pah!” said Britomart, and stalked off, fuming.
The show was ending. Mr. Tonks was trying to find another circus to take old Jumbo to. Mr. Wally was waiting to see if Tonks was lucky—then maybe he would go with him. Bit by bit the circus-folk were packing their things, ready to go on the road again. They had been so long in camp that they felt quite strange to be on the move once more. Things were strapped on the tops of vans, and swung underneath. Lilliput looked sad, for he did not think he could go with Tonks and Mr. Wally. Zeno had decided to stay with Britomart, for hewas well-paid and the ring-master did not interfere with him very much.
Nobody had heard anything more from Mr. Galliano and Lotta. But nobody worried about the little girl now, for they knew she was safe, and they were sure she would not come back for some time.
And then, one evening, there came a rumbling down the road that led to the camp. A car was coming—a taxi-cab. Jimmy looked at it in surprise, for taxis seldom came to the circus-field. Who could it be?
He soon knew, for Lucky began a most terrific barking and flew to meet the taxi. Lucky’s sharp ears had heard a voice she knew—Lotta’s. And sure enough, there was Lotta hanging out of the window, yelling and shouting to Jimmy!” I’m back! I’m back! I’ve still got Rosemary—but Black Beauty is coming by horse-van in a train. Mr. Galliano said it was too far for him to be ridden back. And oh, Jimmy—Mr. Galliano’s here too!”
Jimmy gave an enormous yell and rushed to open the taxi-cab door, and out stepped dear old Galliano in his riding-breeches, top-boots, and top-hat—looking a little fat, it is true, but just the same as ever, smiling and jolly, his stiff moustaches standing straight out on each side of his mouth.
And then such a shout went up in the camp as the news was flashed from mouth to mouth!
“Galliano! Good old Galliano! He’s back again! Welcome, Galliano! My goodness, we’re glad to see you I”
What a welcome for their old ring-master! Mr. Galliano was so excited and pleased that tears came into his eyes, and he wiped them away with an enormous red-spotted handkerchief. He gazed round at the tents, the carts, and the caravans, and took a deep breath, “It’s good to be back again, yes,” he said. “Very, very good!”
Good Old Galliano!
MR. GALLIANO shook hands with everyone, and Mr. Wally let out Sammy, the chimpanzee, because even Sammy knew that the old ringmaster was back, and wanted to shake him by the hand too. So it was a very happy family that gathered round Mr. Galliano and fired questions at him.
“How is Mrs. Galliano? Is she coming too? How did Lotta find yo
u? Have you come back to stay?”
“Where is Britomart?” asked Galliano, looking towards his old caravan.
“Gone down to the town,” said Mr. Tonks. “Mr. Galliano, sir, have you heard about how we are going to split up and part? We can’t work for Britomart; we’ve tried, but it’s no use.”
“I’m coming back to you,” said Galliano, sticking his hat right on one side of his head. “Yes—I am coming back to you! There shall be two circuses—one that will go with Britomart, and the other that shall stay with me and be Galliano’s! Tessa is well enough for me to leave her now, and she wants me to come back, yes!”
“Hurrah!” yelled everyone, and went quite mad. Lisa and Jeanne stood in surprise, staring at Mr. Galliano, wondering what was going to happen. They were not at all pleased to see Lotta back again, and with Mr. Galliano too! The little girl had not said a single word to them, but looked at them with such scorn that they felt really uncomfortable.
“And now I want to have a word with each of you,” said Mr. Galliano. “You, Tonks; you, Wally; you, Lilliput, Oona, Volla, Stanley. Let us go to your caravan, Wally.”
In Mr. Wally’s comfortable caravan Mr. Galliano heard all that his friends had to say about the circus, and he frowned and nodded.
“Yes—it is time I came back,” he said. “I thought that Britomart would do well with you all—but I see I was wrong, yes. Yet he has had circuses before, and should know how to treat his people.”
“Mr. Galliano, sir, Britomart has always made the same mistakes,” said Oona. “I have heard much of him before. He cannot make friends with the circus-folk, and although he is a good ring-master, and has plenty of fine ideas, sooner or later people will not work for him.”
“You see, sir, you are one of us,” said Tonks. “You laugh and joke with us, you are kind, you help us when things go wrong. It is true that you are angry at times—but only when you have a right to be, and then it is soon over. We all love you and Mrs. Galliano, sir—and—well—that’s the secret of working happily together.”