Life and Adventures of Santa Claus & Other Christmas Novels. Люси Мод Монтгомери

Then an idea seemed to strike him—he bent his clumsy knees, and rubbed his great head on the ground at her feet; Auréole's courage returned. She patted his head, and he gave a faint groan of relief. Then by degrees, with the greatest patience, she coaxed the animals to draw near, and at last placed Fido and Lello on the beast's immense back. But though they now seemed less frightened they would not stay there, but jumped off again, and pressed themselves close against her. It was no use; after hours, at least so it seemed to Auréole, spent in trying, she had to give it up.

      '"I cannot do it, Halbert," she said. A groan was his reply. Then another thought struck her.

      '"I will climb on your back myself," she exclaimed; "and then perhaps I can coax the animals to stay there."

      'The poor beast tried to stoop down still lower to make it easier for Auréole to get on. She managed it without much difficulty, and immediately Fido and Lello and the rabbit saw her mounted, up they jumped, for they had no idea of being left behind. The wood-pigeons came cooing down from the branch where they had taken refuge in their fright, and perched on her shoulders. Auréole looked up, and called and whistled to the other birds. Down they came as if bewitched, and settled round her, all the seven of them on the beast's furry back.

      '"Off, Halbert," cried Auréole, afraid to lose an instant, and off, nothing loth, the beast set. It was hard work to keep on. He plunged along so clumsily, and went so fast in his eagerness, that it was like riding on an earthquake. But when now and then he stopped, and gave a low pitiful roar, as if begging Auréole's pardon for shaking her so, she always found breath to say: "On, Halbert, on; think not of me."

      'And so at last, after hours of this terrible journey, many times during which Auréole's heart had been in her mouth at the least sign of impatience among the animals, they reached the borders of the enchanted country, and as the panting beast emerged from the forest with his strange burden, poor Auréole slipped fainting off his back. Her task was done.

      'When she came back to her senses and opened her eyes, her first thought was for the beast, but he had disappeared. Fido and Lello, and all the others were there, however; the dog licking her hands, the fawn nestling beside her, and at a little distance stood a figure she seemed to know, though no longer miserable and wretched as she had last seen him. It was Halbert, strong and handsome and happy again, but with a look in his eyes of gentleness and humility and gratitude that had never been there in the old days.

      '"Halbert," said Auréole, sitting up and holding out her hand to him, "is all then right?"

      '"All is right," he replied; "you can see for yourself. But, oh, Auréole, how can I thank you? My whole life would not be long enough to repay or——"

      '"Think not about thanking me," interrupted Auréole. "My best reward will be the delight of restoring to my dear country-people a king whose first object will now, I feel assured, be their happiness;" and her eyes sparkled with delight at the thought.

      'She was right. Nothing could exceed the joy of the nation at the return of Auréole, and thanks to her assurances of his changed character, they soon learned to trust their new king as he deserved.

      'No one ever knew the true history of his disappearance, but all admired and respected the noble and unselfish courage of Auréole in braving the dangers of the enchanted forest itself. Her pets all lived to a good old age, and had every comfort they could wish for. It was said that Halbert's only sorrow was that for long he could not persuade Auréole to fulfil her father's wishes by marrying him. But some years later a rumour came from the far-off country where these events happened, telling of the beautiful "king's daughter" having at last consented to become a king's wife as well, now that she knew Halbert to be worthy of her fullest affection.

      'And if this is true, I have no doubt it was for their happiness as well as for that of their subjects, among whom I include the twelve faithful animals.'

      CHAPTER VII.

       A WINDING STAIR AND A SCAMPER.

       Table of Contents

      'But children, to whom all is play,

       And something new each hour must bring,

       Find everything so strange, that they

       Are not surprised at anything.'

       The Fairies' Nest.

      Godmother's voice stopped. For a moment or two there was silence.

      'I hope it was true,' said Maia, the first to find her tongue. 'Poor Halbert, I think he deserved to be happy at the end. I think Auréole was rather—rather—cross, don't you, Silva?'

      Silva considered. 'No,' she said. 'I can't bear people that are cruel to little animals. Oh!' and she clasped her hands, 'if only Rollo and Maia could see some of our friends in the wood! May they not, godmother?'

      'All in good time,' said godmother, rather mysteriously.

      Maia looked at her. 'Godmother,' she said, 'how funny you are! I believe you like puzzling people better than anything. There are such a lot of things I want to ask you about the story. Who was it lived in the forest? Was it a wizard? I think that would be much nicer than invisible spirits, even though it is rather frightening. And who was it made Auréole's breakfast and shut the door, and all that? I am sure you know, godmother. I believe you've been in the enchanted forest yourself. Have you?'

      Godmother smiled. 'Perhaps,' she said. But when Maia went on questioning, she would not say any more. 'Keep something to puzzle about,' she said. 'Remember that that is half the pleasure.'

      And then she took Maia up on her knee and gave her such a sweet kiss that the child could not grumble.

      'You are very funny, godmother,' she repeated.

      Suddenly Rollo started.

      'Maia,' he exclaimed, 'I am afraid we are forgetting about going home and meeting Nanni and everything. It must be getting very late. It is so queer,' he added with a sigh, glancing round the dear little kitchen, 'I seemed to have forgotten that this isn't our home, and yet we have only been here an hour or two, and——'

      'Yes,' said Maia, 'I feel just the same. Indeed Auréole and her pets seem far more real to me now than Lady Venelda and the white castle.'

      'And the old doctor and all the lessons you have to do,' said godmother; and somehow the children no longer felt surprised at her knowing all about everything. 'But you are right, my boy, good boy,' she went on, turning to Rollo. 'There is a time for all things, and now it is time to go back to your other life. Say good-bye to each other, my children,' and when they had done so—very reluctantly, you may be sure—she took Rollo by one hand and Maia by the other, Waldo and Silva standing at the cottage-door to see them off, and led them across the little clearing, away into the now darkening alleys of the wood.

      'Are you going with us to where Nanni is?' asked Maia.

      'Not to where you left her. I will take you by a short cut,' said godmother, who, since they had left the cottage, had seemed to grow into just an ordinary-looking old peasant woman, very bent and small, for any one at least who did not peep far enough inside her queer hood to see her wonderful eyes and gleaming hair, and whom no one would have suspected of the marvellous crimson dress under the long dark cloak. Maia kept peeping up at her with a strange look in her face.

      'What is it, my child?' said godmother.

      'I don't quite know,' Maia replied. 'I'm not quite sure, godmother, if I'm not a little—a very little—frightened of you. You change so. In the cottage you seemed a sort of a young fairy godmother—and now——' she hesitated.

      'And now do I seem very old?'

      'Rather,' said Maia.

      'Well, listen now. I'll tell you the real truth, strange as it may seem. I am very old—older than you can even fancy, and yet I am and I always