A WINDING STAIR AND A SCAMPER.
'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 Aureole 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 Aureole'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 Aureole 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 shall be young.'
'In fairyland--in the other country, do you mean?' asked Rollo.
Godmother turned her bright eyes full upon him. 'Not only there, my
boy,' she said. 'Here, too--everywhere--I am both old and young.'
Maia gave a little sigh.
'You are very nice, godmother,' she said, 'but you are _very_ puzzling.'
But she had no time to say more, for just then godmother stopped.
'See, children,' she said, pointing down a little path among the trees,
'I have brought you a short cut, as I said I would. At the end of that
alley you will find your faithful Nanni. And that will not be the end of
the short cut. Twenty paces straight on in the same direction you will
come out of the wood. Cross the little bridge across the brook and you
will only have to climb a tiny hill to find yourselves at the back
entrance of the castle. All will be right--and now good-bye, my dears,
till your next holiday. Have you your flowers?'
'Oh, yes,' exclaimed both, holding up the pretty bunches as they spoke;
'but how are we to----'
'Don't trouble about how you are to see me again,' she interrupted,
smiling. 'It will come--you will see,' and then before they had time to
wonder any more, she turned from them, waving her hand in farewell, and
disappeared.
'Rollo,' said Maia, rubbing her eyes as if she had just awakened,
'Rollo, is it all _real_? Don't you feel as if you had been dreaming?'
'No,' said Rollo. 'I feel as if _it_'--and he nodded his head backwards
in the direction of the cottage--'were all real, and the castle and our
cousin and Nanni and all _not_ real. You said so too.'
'Yes,' said Maia meditatively, 'while I was there with them, I felt
like that. But now I don't. It seems not real, and I don't want to begin
to forget them.'
'Suppose you scent your flowers,' said Rollo; 'perhaps that's why
godmother gave them to us.'
Maia thought it a good idea.
'Yes,' she said, poking her little nose as far as it would go in among
the fragrant blossoms, 'yes, Rollo, it comes back to me when I scent the
flowers. I think it is because godmother's red dress was scented the
same way. Oh, yes!' shutting her eyes, 'I can _feel_ her soft dress now,
and I can hear her voice, and I can see Waldo and Silva and the dear
little kitchen. How glad I am you thought of the flowers, Rollo!'
'But we must run on,' said Rollo, and so they did. But they had not run
many steps before the substantial figure of Nanni appeared; she was
looking very comfortable and contented.
'You have not stayed very long, Master Rollo and Miss Maia,' she said,
'but I suppose it is getting time to be turning home.'
'And have you spent a pleasant afternoon, Nanni?' asked Rollo quietly.
'How many stockings have you knitted?'
'How many!' repeated Nanni; 'come, Master Rollo, you're joking. You've
not been gone more than an hour at the most, but it is queer--it must be
the smell of the fir-trees--as soon as ever I sit down in this wood, off
I go to sleep! I hadn't done more than two rounds when my head began
nodding, so I had to put my knitting away for fear of running the
needles into my eyes. And I had such pleasant dreams.'
'About the beautiful lady again?' asked Maia.
'I think so, but I can't be sure,' said Nanni. 'It was about all sorts
of pretty things mixed up together. Flowers and birds, and I don't know
what. And the flowers smelt, for all the world, just like the roses
round the windows of my mother's little cottage at home. I could have
believed I was there.'
Rollo and Maia looked at each other. It was all godmother's doing, they
felt sure. How clever of her to know just what Nanni would like to dream
of.
By this time they were out of the wood. The light was brighter than
among the trees, but still it was easy to see that more than Nanni's
'hour' must have passed since they left her.
'Dear me,' she exclaimed, growing rather frightened, 'it looks later
than I thought! And we've a long way to go yet,' she went on, looking
round; 'indeed,' and her rosy face grew pale, 'I don't seem to know
exactly where we are. We must have come another way out of the wood--oh,
dear, dear----'
'Don't get into such a fright, Nanni,' said Rollo; 'follow me.'
He sprang up the hilly path that godmother had told them of, Maia and
Nanni following. It turned and twisted about a little, but when they got
to the top, there, close before them, gleamed the white walls of the
castle, and a few steps more brought them to a back entrance to the
terrace by which they often came out and in.
'Well, to be sure!' exclaimed Nanni, 'you are a clever boy, Master
Rollo. Who ever would have guessed there was such a short cut, and
indeed I can't make it out at all which way we've come back. But so long
as we're here all in good time, and no fear of a scolding, I'm sure I'm
only too pleased, however we've got here.'
As they were passing along the terrace the old doctor met them.
'Have you had a pleasant holiday?' he asked.
'Oh, _very_,' answered both Rollo and Maia, looking up in his face,
where, as they expected, they saw the half-mysterious, half-playful
expression they had learnt to know, and which seemed to tell that their
old friend understood much more than he chose to say.
'Did you find any pretty flowers?' he asked, with a smile, 'though it is
rather early in the year yet--especially for scented ones--is it not?'
'But we _have_ got some,' said Maia quickly, and glancing round to see
if Nanni were still by them. She had gone on, so Maia drew out her
bunch, and held them up. '_Aren't_ they sweet?' she said.
The old man pressed them to his face almost as lovingly as Maia herself.
'Ah, how _very_ sweet!' he murmured. 'How much they bring back! Cherish
them, my child. You know how?'
'Yes, _she_ told us,' said Maia. 'You know whom I mean, don't you, Mr.
Doctor?'
The old doctor smiled again. Maia drew two or three flowers out of her
bunch, and Rollo did the same. Then they put them together and offered
them to their old friend.
'Thank you, my children,' he said; 'I shall add the thought of you to
many others, when I perceive their sweet scent.'
'And even when they're withered and dried up, Mr. Doctor, you know,'
said Maia eagerly, 'the scent, _she_ says, is even sweeter.'
'I know,' said the doctor, nodding his head. 'Sweeter, I truly think,
but bringing sadness with it too; very often, alas!' he added in a lower
voice, so low that the children could not clearly catch the words.
'We must go in, Maia,' said Rollo; 'it must be nearly supper-time.'
'Yes,' said Maia; 'but first, Mr. Doctor, I want to know when are we to
have another holiday? Lady Venelda will do any way you tell her, you
know.'
'All in good time,' replied the doctor, at which Maia pouted a little.
'I don't like all in good time,' she said.
'But you have never known me to forget,' said the old doctor.
'No, indeed,' said Rollo eagerly, and then Maia looked a little ashamed
of herself, and ran off smiling and waving her hand to the doctor.
Lady Venelda asked them no questions, and made no remarks beyond saying
she was glad they had had so fine a day for their ramble in the woods.
She seemed quite pleased so long as the children were well and sat up
straight in their chairs without speaking at meal-times, and there were
no complaints from their teachers. That was the way _she_ had been
brought up, and she thought it had answered very well in her case. But
she was really kind, and the children no longer felt so lonely or dull,
now that they had the visits to the wood to look forward to. Indeed,
they had brought back with them a fund of amusement, for now their
favourite play was to act the story which godmother had told them, and
as they had no other pets, they managed to make friends with the castle
cat, a very dignified person, who had to play the parts of Fido and
Lello and the rabbit all in one; while the birds were represented by
bunches of feathers they picked up in the poultry-yard, and the great
furry rug with which they had travelled turned Rollo into the unhappy
monster. It was very amusing, but after a few days they began to wish
for other companions.
'If Silva and Waldo were here,' said Rollo, 'what fun we could have! I
wonder what they do all day, Maia.'
'They work pretty hard, I fancy,' said Maia. 'Waldo goes to cut down
trees in the forest a good way off, I know, and Silva has all the house
to take care of, and everything to cook and wash, and all that. But _I_
should call that play-work, not like lessons.'
'And _I_ should think cutting down trees the best fun in the world,'
said Rollo. 'That kind of work can't be as tiring as lessons.'
'Lessons, lessons! What is all this talk about lessons? Are you so
terribly overworked, my poor children? What should you say to a ramble
in the woods with me for a change?' said a voice beside them, which made
the children start.
It was the doctor. He had come round the corner of the wall without
their seeing him, for they were playing on the terrace for half an hour
between their French lesson with Mademoiselle and their history with the
chaplain.
'A walk with you, Mr. Doctor!' exclaimed Maia. 'Oh, yes, it _would_ be
nice. But it isn't a holiday, and----'
'How do _you_ know it isn't a holiday, my dear young lady,' interrupted
the doctor. 'How do you know that I have not represented to your
respected cousin that her young charges had been working very hard of
late, and would be the better for a ramble? If you cannot believe me,
run in and ask Lady Venelda herself; if you are satisfied without doing
so, why then, let us start at once!'
'Of course we are satisfied,' exclaimed Rollo and Maia together; 'but
we must go in to get our thick boots and jackets, and our nicer hats,'
added Maia, preparing to start off.
'Not a bit of it,' said the doctor, stopping her. 'You are quite right
as you are. Come along;' and without giving the children time for even
another 'but,' off he strode.
To their amazement, however, he turned towards the house, which he
entered by a side door that the children had never before noticed, and
which he opened with a small key.
'Doctor,' began Maia, but he only shook his head without speaking, and
stalked on, Rollo and his sister following. He led them some way along a
rather narrow passage, where they had never been before, then, opening a
door, signed to them to pass in in front of him, and when they had done
so, he too came in, and shut the door behind him. It was a queer little
room--the doctor's study evidently, for one end was completely filled
with books, and at one side, through the glass doors of high cupboards
in the wall, all kinds of mysterious instruments, chemical tubes and
globes, high bottles filled with different-coloured liquids, and ever so
many things the children had but time to glance at, were to be
perceived. But the doctor had evidently not brought them there to pay
him a visit. He touched a spring at the side of the book-shelves, and a
small door opened.
'Come, children,' he said, speaking at last, 'this is another short cut.
Have no fear, but follow me.'
Full of curiosity, Rollo and Maia pressed forward. The doctor had
already disappeared--all but his head, that is to say--for a winding
staircase led downwards from the little door, and Rollo first, then
Maia, were soon following their old friend step by step, holding by one
hand to a thick cord which supplied the place of a handrail. It was
almost quite dark, but they were not frightened. They had perfect trust
in the old doctor, and all they had seen and heard since they came to
the white castle had increased their love of adventure, without
lessening their courage.
'Dear me,' said Maia, after a while, for it was never easy for her to
keep silent for very long together, 'it isn't a _very_ short cut! We
seem to have been going down and down for a good while. My head is
beginning to feel rather turning with going round and round so often.
How much farther are we to go before we come out, Mr. Doctor?'
But there was no answer, only a slight exclamation from Rollo just in
front of her, and then all of a sudden a rush of light into the
darkness made Maia blink her eyes and for a moment shut them to escape
the dazzling rays.
'Good-bye,' said a voice which she knew to be the doctor's; 'I hope you
will enjoy yourselves.'
Maia opened her eyes. She had felt Rollo take her hand and draw her
forwards a little. She opened her eyes, but half shut them again in
astonishment.
'_Rollo!_' she exclaimed.
'And you said it was not much of a short cut,' replied Rollo, laughing.
No wonder Maia was astonished. They were standing a few paces from the
cottage door! The sun was shining brightly on the little garden and
peeping through the trees, just in front of which the children found
themselves.
'Where have we come from?' said Maia, looking round her confusedly.
'Out of here, I think,' said Rollo, tapping the trunk of a great tree
close beside him. 'I think we must have come out of a door hidden in
this tree.'
'But we kept coming _down_,' said Maia.
'At first; but the last part of the time it seemed to me we were going
up; we must have come down the inside of the hill and then climbed up a
little way into the tree.'
'Oh, I am sure we weren't going _up_,' said Maia. 'I certainly was
getting quite giddy with going round and round, but I'm _sure_ I could
have told if we'd been going up.'
'Well, never mind. If godmother is a witch, I fancy the doctor's a
wizard. But any way we're here, and that's the principal thing. Come on,
quick, Maia, aren't you in a hurry to know if Waldo and Silva are at
home?'
He ran on to the cottage and Maia after him. The door was shut. Rollo
knocked, but there was no answer.
'Oh, what a pity it will be if they are not in!' said Maia. 'Knock
again, Rollo, louder.'
Rollo did so. Still there was no answer.
'What shall we do?' said the children to each other. 'It would be too
horrid to have to go home and miss our chance of a holiday.'
'We might stay in the woods by ourselves,' suggested Rollo.
'It would be very dull,' said Maia disconsolately. 'I don't think the
old doctor should have brought us without knowing if they would be here.
If he knows so much he might have found that out.'
Suddenly Rollo gave an exclamation. He had been standing fumbling at the
latch.
'What do you say?' asked Maia.
'The door isn't locked. Suppose we go in? It would be no harm. They
weren't a bit vexed with us for having gone in and drunk the milk the
first time.'
'Of course not,' said Maia; 'they wouldn't be the least vexed. I quite
thought the door was locked all this time. Open it, Rollo. I can't reach
so high or I would have found out long ago it wasn't locked.'
With a little difficulty Rollo opened the door.
Everything in the tiny kitchen looked as they had last seen it, only, if
that were possible, still neater and cleaner. Maia stared round as if
half expecting to see Waldo or Silva jump out from under the chairs or
behind the cupboard, but suddenly she darted forward. A white object on
the table had caught her attention. It was a sheet of paper, on which
was written in round clear letters:
'Godmother will be here in a quarter of an hour.'
'See, Rollo,' exclaimed Maia triumphantly, 'this must be meant for _us_.
What a good thing we came in! I don't mind waiting a quarter of an
hour.'
'But that paper may have been here all day. It may have been sent for
Waldo and Silva,' said Rollo. 'You know they told us godmother only
comes sometimes to see them.'
'I don't care,' said Maia, seating herself on one of the high-backed
chairs. 'I'm going to wait a quarter of an hour, and just _see_.
Godmother doesn't do things like other people, and I'm sure this message
is for us.'
Rollo said no more, but followed Maia's example. There they sat, like
two little statues, the only distraction being the tick-tack of the
clock, and watching the long hand creep slowly down the three divisions
of its broad face which showed a quarter of an hour. It seemed a very
long quarter of an hour. Maia was so little used to sitting still,
except when she was busy with lessons, to which she was obliged to give
her attention, that after a few minutes her head began to nod and at
last gave such a jerk that she woke up with a start.
'Dear me, isn't it a quarter of an hour _yet_?' she exclaimed.
'No, it's hardly five minutes,' said Rollo, rather grumpily, for he
thought this was a very dull way of spending a holiday, and he would
rather have gone out into the woods than sit there waiting. Maia leant
her head again on the back of her chair.
'Suppose we count ten times up to sixty,' she said. 'That would be ten
minutes if we go by the ticks of the clock, and if she isn't here then,
I won't ask you to wait any longer.'
'We can see the time,' said Rollo; 'I don't see the use of counting it
loud out.'
Maia said nothing more. Whether she took another little nap; whether
Rollo himself did not do so also I cannot say. All I know is that just
exactly as the hand of the clock had got to fourteen minutes from the
time they had begun watching it, both children started to their feet and
looked at each other.
'Do you hear?' said Maia.
'It's a carriage,' exclaimed Rollo.
'How could a carriage come through the wood? There's no path wide
enough.'
'But it _is_ a carriage;' and to settle the point both ran to the door
to see.
It came swiftly along, in and out among the trees without difficulty, so
small was it. The two tiny piebald ponies that drew it shook their wavy
manes as they danced along, the little bells on their necks ringing
softly. A funny idea struck Maia as she watched it. It looked just like
a toy meant for some giant's child which had dropped off one of the
huge Christmas-trees, waiting there to be decked for Santa Claus's
festival! But the queerest part of the sight for them was when the
carriage came near enough for them to see that godmother herself was
driving it. She did look so comical, perched up on the little seat and
chirrupping and wo-wohing to her steeds, and she seemed to have grown so
small, oh, so small! Otherwise how could she ever have got into a
carriage really not much too large for a baby of two years old?
On she drove, and drew up in grand style just in front of where the
children were standing.
'Jump in,' she said, nodding off-handedly, but without any other
greeting.
'But how----?' began Maia. 'How can Rollo and I possibly get into that
tiny carriage?' were the words on her lips, but somehow before she began
to say them, they melted away, and almost without knowing how, she found
herself getting into the back seat of the little phaeton, with Rollo
beside her, and in another moment--crack! went godmother's whip, and off
they set.
They went so fast, oh, so fast! There did not seem time to consider
whether they were comfortable or not, or how it was they fitted so well
into the carriage, small as it was, or anything but just the delicious
feeling of flying along, which shows that they must have been very
comfortable, does it not? In and out among the great looming pine-trees
their strange coachman made her way, without once hesitating or
wavering, so that the children felt no fear of striking against the
massive trunks, even though it grew darker and gloomier and the
Christmas-trees had certainly never looked anything like so enormous.
'Or _can_ it be that we have really grown smaller?' thought Maia; but
her thoughts were quickly interrupted by a merry cry from godmother,
'Hold fast, children, we're going to have a leap.'
Godmother was certainly in a very comical humour. But for her voice and
her bright eyes when they peeped out from under her hood the children
would scarcely have known her. She was like a little mischievous old
sprite instead of the soft, tender, mysterious being who had petted them
so sweetly and told them the quiet story of gentle Aureole the other
day. In a different kind of way Maia felt again almost a _very_ little
bit afraid of her, but Rollo's spirits rose with the fun, his cheeks
grew rosier and his eyes brighter, though he was very kind to Maia too,
and put his arm round her to keep her steady in preparation for
godmother's flying leap, over they knew not what. But it was
beautifully managed; not only the ponies, but the carriage too, seemed
to acquire wings for the occasion, and there was not the slightest jar
or shock, only a strange lifting feeling, and then softly down again,
and on, on, through trees and brushwood, faster and faster, as surely no
ponies ever galloped before.
'Are you frightened, Rollo?' whispered Maia.
'Not a bit. Why should I be? Godmother can take care of us, and even if
she wasn't there, one couldn't be frightened flying along with those
splendid little ponies.'
'What was it we jumped over?' asked Maia.
Godmother heard her and turned round.
'We jumped over the brook,' she said. 'Don't you remember the little
brook that runs through the wood?'
'The brook that Rollo and I go over by the stepping stones? It's a very
little brook, godmother. I should think the carriage might have driven
over without jumping.'
'Hush!' said godmother, 'we're getting into the middle of the wood and I
must drive carefully.'
But she did not go any more slowly; it got darker and darker as the
trees grew more closely together. The children saw, as they looked
round, that they had never been so far in the forest before.
'I wonder when we shall see Silva and Waldo,' thought Maia, and somehow
the thought seemed to bring its answer, for just as it passed through
her mind, a clear bright voice called out from among the trees:
'Godmother, godmother, don't drive too far. Here we are waiting for
you.'
'Waldo and Silva!' exclaimed the children. The ponies suddenly stopped,
and out jumped or tumbled into the arms of their friends Rollo and Maia.
'Oh, Waldo! oh, Silva!' they exclaimed. 'We've had _such_ a drive!
Godmother has brought us along like the wind.'
Silva nodded her head. 'I know,' she said, smiling. 'There is no one so
funny as godmother when she is in a wild humour. You may be glad you are
here all right. She would have thought nothing of driving on to----'
Silva stopped, at a loss what place to name.
'To where?' said the children.
'Oh, to the moon, or the stars, or down to the bottom of the sea, or
anywhere that came into her head!' said Silva, laughing. 'For, you know,
she can go _anywhere_.'
'_Can_ she?' exclaimed Maia. 'Oh, what wonderful stories we can make her
tell us, then! Godmother, godmother, do you hear what Silva says?' she
went on, turning round to where she thought the carriage and ponies and
godmother were standing. But----