WHICH LEAVES SOME AT HOME AND TAKES SOME TO CHURCH.
Little Peter woke up very early on Sunday morning, feeling excited and
glad. He sat up on end in bed, but he had to rub his eyes very hard and
get the sleep out of them before he could remember exactly what there
was to be so very glad about. When he did remember, he was so much
delighted that he was compelled to express his feelings in some rather
violent manner. He went on all fours and burrowed very quick, like a
rabbit, head first, down under the clothes to the bottom of the bed,
and then rushed up again, with very red cheeks, puffing, and pushing
his curly hair out of his eyes. But it really was not light yet--only
the rushlight his mother burnt at night glimmered feebly in the corner.
Peter could hear Master Lepage snoring peacefully in his bed on the
other side of the wooden partition which divided the big room into two
unequal halves--the small half for little Peter and his little bed, and
the large half for his father and mother and their large bed. It would
be a long while yet before his mother got up and called him to her to
help dress and wash him, for Gustavus, the cowherd, had only just gone
downstairs from his attic, clumpety-clump with his big, heavy boots
over the stairs, and he always got up long before anybody else.
Peter wondered what he could do to amuse himself till it was time to
dress. And then it struck him as just possible that when Gustavus went
down into the kitchen he might have left the door open, and that in
that case Cincinnatus, the cat, might have stepped upstairs and be
waiting outside on the landing--it had happened so once before on a
very delightful and never to be forgotten occasion. Peter waited a
moment and held his breath listening, for it seemed to him extremely
adventurous to be on the move so very early in the morning. He was not
quite sure whether the little, hairy house-bogies and hobgoblins who
undoubtedly, so Eliza said at least, wander about the empty rooms and
chase each other up and down the silent passages and stairways every
night, with impish frolic and laughter, when we are all safe in bed,
might not still be holding their revels; and he knew, at least Eliza
said so, that it was extremely unlucky for any person to see them, for
they don't like to be looked at by mortal eyes, and will come and sit
on your pillow, and tickle your nose with a feather out of the bedding,
and squat on your chest, till you feel as though you lay under the
weight of a mountain, and treat you in a number of other odious and
disturbing ways. It made the cold shivers run down Peter's back as he
sat up there, in his little, white night-shirt, even to think of coming
face to face with the hairy goblins and bogies.
But then, on the other hand, the society of Cincinnatus would be so
very delightful. Peter slipped one sturdy, bare leg down over the
side of the bed. Ah! how cold the smooth boards of the floor felt!
However, the other leg very soon followed. Then he crept across the
room very quietly, avoiding the oak chest, and the chairs, and the
corner of the high cupboard, with his mother's initials and the date
of her wedding-day carved on the doors of it; and, when he reached the
door, paused, listening at the keyhole. Oh, dear me, there really was
something outside on the landing moving about stealthily on small, soft
feet. Little Peter's heart stood still. Was it dear, old Cincinnatus,
or a dreadful, roundabout, hairy hobgoblin?
At last he plucked up courage to put his lips close to the keyhole, and
whisper in a rather trembling voice:--
'Pussy, puss, Cincinnatus, oh, please, is that you?'
'Miau,' answered Cincinnatus, quite composedly and comfortably.
In a great hurry little Peter opened a crack of the door.
'Oh! come in quick, please, Cincinnatus,' he said.
[Illustration: "Oh! come in quick, please, Cincinnatus."]
But cats of quality never permit themselves to be hurried. Cincinnatus
came just half-way through the door, then he stopped and rubbed
himself--very tall--up against the side-post and purred; and then,
stretching out his fore legs as far as ever he could, sharpened his
claws, crick, crack, crick, crack, on the boards of the bedroom
flooring.
'Oh! do be quick, Cincinnatus,' said the little boy under his breath
again; and to hasten matters, he gave the cat a poke in the ribs with
his cold bare toes.
'Miau,' cried Cincinnatus quite sharply, jumping on one side, for
he was taken rather by surprise. Subsequently he added in the cat
language:--'Manners, my good child, manners! Let us before all things
cultivate a polite address and a calm, unagitated exterior.'
Meanwhile Peter had succeeded in shutting the door quietly, and that,
to his great relief, without catching a single glimpse of one of the
blobbety-bodied, spindle-legged house-bogies. He pattered across the
room as fast as ever he could, and jumped into his warm bed again.
'He is young and inexperienced,' murmured Cincinnatus reflectively. 'I
am magnanimous. I scorn to bear malice.'
And he, too, jumped into the warm bed.
Now, this was really charming. Little Peter pushed up the bedclothes
in front, making them into a snug, little, dark cavern, inside which
there was just room enough for himself and Cincinnatus.
'See,' he said, 'we will play at robbers. I will be the captain and you
shall be my first lieutenant.'
But unfortunately, Cincinnatus did not seem to care very much about
that particular game. He had arrived at an age and temper of mind at
which material comfort is far more valuable than pleasures derived
from a lively exercise of the imagination. Perhaps you do not quite
understand what that means? Well, so much the better. For my part, I
hope you never may understand it. There are a number of things in this
world that it is very much the best to be ignorant about if you can
possibly manage it. Cincinnatus, anyway, understood it well enough, so
he tucked his fore legs under his chest, until nothing was visible of
them but just the furry elbows, and laid his tail neatly along his soft
side, and settled himself down on the warm sheet, with his eyes more
than half shut, purring all the while as loud as if he had got a small
steam-engine inside him.
'That's not the way to play at robbers,' said little Peter.
But Cincinnatus only purred a trifle louder. It was rather provoking.
Still, Peter was too glad of the cat's comfortable company, and was,
moreover, really too sweet-tempered a boy to get cross and angry. So
he just lay down on his stomach, resting his chin in one hand, while
with the other he gently rubbed Cincinnatus about the ears; and amused
himself by thinking of the nice, new clothes that lay folded up on
the chair at the bottom of his bed, and of the representation of the
stable, and the manger in which the Infant Saviour was cradled, that he
hoped to see in the great church in the town, before the day was done.
And meanwhile, the pale dawn broadened over the dark stretches of the
great pine forest, and the cows lowed as Gustavus drove them out to
pasture, and Eliza bustled down stairs to begin dusting and sweeping,
and making ready the savoury Sunday breakfast.
And at last his mother, with her sweet, pale face, got up and washed
and dressed him, listening as tenderly, as only mothers know how, to
his happy, prattle, and his simple morning prayer.
'Ask the dear Lord to send a special blessing to us all to-day,' she
said.
'May I ask Him to send a blessing to my friend John Paqualin, too?'
asked Peter. 'He told me yesterday he should never have anybody to love
him, and that it saved him a great deal of trouble. But he doesn't look
as if it made him happy, does he, mother?'
'Alas, no, poor soul,' said Susan Lepage. 'Yes, pray for him, also,
little one, pray that the long disgrace and lonely sorrow of his life
here may be counted unto him for righteousness hereafter, and I will
say Amen.'
It must have been quite half-past eight o'clock before they were all
ready to start for Nullepart. Eliza was going too, you see, and she was
furiously busy up to the very last moment. Consequently she was rather
late, and rushed out of the house after the rest of the party, pinning
her blue shawl, and giving sundry pats to the crown of her stiff,
white, muslin cap, to make sure it sat quite straight over her plaits
of hair behind.
'Eh, but you are smart, Eliza,' said Gustavus, opening his eyes very
wide, as he rested the two pails of water he was carrying on the ground
for a moment, and rubbed his elbows, which ached a little with the
weight.
'_Imbécile!_ do not detain me!' cried Eliza, haughtily--though, in
truth, she was prodigiously gratified by the cowherd's observation.
'Don't you see how breathless and flurried I am with all the work?
Bless me, where's my prayer-book? Oh! thank you, yes, Gustavus, tied up
in my pocket-handkerchief. Of course--I knew where it was--at least,
I should have found out for myself directly. Good-bye, Gustavus, take
care of yourself; and remember the evening's milk is to be set on the
left-hand shelf, two from the bottom.'
Eliza pursed up her mouth and nodded, as she walked away with a very
impressive swinging of petticoats.
'Poor young man, his head is completely turned,' she said to herself.
'But then, what wonder? My appearance in my _fête_ day clothes has
always been a subject of remark and respectful admiration!'
'Farewell, my wife; enjoy to the full the emotions called forth by the
pious exhibition you are about to witness. They are becoming to your
sex. Boys, take good care of your mother; and conduct yourselves in all
things as worthy sons of our glorious Republic.'
Master Lepage raised his soft felt hat from his head, as he spoke, with
an elegant flourish; but whether in compliment to his wife or in honour
of the democratic form of government, I really cannot say.
At that moment the charcoal-burner came hurriedly from the narrow
forest path, that led from his hut, on to the open space outside the
farmhouse. Madelon, the sow, ran beside him, shaking her lean sides
as she ran, and grunting now and then, apparently with pleasure at
being taken out walking. Sometimes she bundled up against her master's
long, thin legs, nearly knocking him over; sometimes she stopped and
forced her ugly snout into a tuft of grass or weeds by the wayside. The
charcoal-burner's red hair streamed out behind him as he came rapidly
along; his strange eyes were dull and vacant as those of a sleep-walker.
'I have a message,' he cried hoarsely--'a message to you from the
beasts, and the birds, from the pine-trees, and the storm-clouds and
the voices. All night long they have told it me, over and over again.'
Paqualin, a wild, ragged, unkempt figure, came up close to Master
Lepage, who stood there erect and superior as a general officer on
parade, surrounded with his family and servants--Gustavus had left his
pails of water and joined the little company--in their Sunday best, and
all animated with pleasant expectation of a holiday, in which amusement
promised to be agreeably mingled with spiritual edification.
'Well, well, out with it quickly then, my good fellow, this wonderful
message of yours,' Lepage said, in a bantering, patronising tone. 'You
see my wife and my sons here are just ready to start on a long walk. I
cannot have them delayed.'
'They must not go, or you must go with them,' cried the
charcoal-burner. He stretched out his hands like a man in the dark
groping for something he cannot find. 'My head is troubled,' he went
on. 'I cannot tell you plainly; but I have an aching in all my bones
which foretells misfortune. And I say, they must not go.'
'Pooh,' said Lepage. 'Your head is troubled, just so. But when
people's heads are troubled they had best keep at home and not trouble
their neighbours into the bargain with all their crazy fancies.
Calm yourself, Paqualin. And as for you,' added Lepage, nodding
encouragingly to his wife and the boys, 'forward, march. Do not let
this untoward little incident affect the pleasures of the day.'
But Susan Lepage looked kindly and compassionately at the
charcoal-burner, and then turning to her husband, said:--
'Have a moment's patience with him, _mon ami_; let us at least hear
what he has to say.'
'Yes, give me time,' cried Paqualin imploringly. 'There are so many of
you staring at me--Ah! I begin to remember. You must go with them if
they go, for the snow is coming, Master Lepage. The storm hung out its
streaming, white flag in the north-east yesterday, and the wild ducks
flew south; there were signs in the earth and in the heavens, and in my
ears the sound of many voices. Do not let your wife and children go.
The snow will be here before evening, and the way will be difficult to
find, and the house door will stand open long into the night before the
feet of those you love cross the threshold.'
The charcoal-burner spoke as though he was so certain of the truth of
that which he said, and his voice sounded so sad, that poor little
Peter felt quite dismayed. Even Eliza had no opprobrious observation
to make, and as for Gustavus, he stood with his big mouth wide open,
staring as if he saw a ghost.
Master Lepage, however, remained quite unmoved; and his composure was
very reassuring.
'Well, well, my good fellow,' he said, 'I for one need no further
proof that your head is very much troubled, so much so indeed that
if I had my way you should find a lodging for a time in the _Maison
Dieu_ at Nullepart--an excellent institution, which is calculated to
cure troubled heads, or at all events to restrain the possessors of
them from being inconvenient to other people. But the worst of it
is,' Lepage added, rather angrily, 'that this superstitious nonsense
is infectious. You, for instance, my wife, begin to look quite
disconcerted.'
Lepage folded his arms, and nodded his head argumentatively, quite as
though he had been addressing an audience in the wine shop.
'Now I put it to you,' he said, 'the day is mild and even sunshiny at
present. And which, pray, is likely to be the best weather prophet?
I, Francis Louis Lepage, householder, citizen, veteran, and I may add
philosophic-politician and student of ancient history, or that poor
half-wit--unsound, as anyone can see, both in mind and body?'
'Of course the grasshopper's afraid of the snow,' chimed in Antony,
switching at Madelon, the sow, with the little stick he held in his
hand. 'It puts his fiddle out of tune.'
Then Antony laughed rather loud, as people do sometimes when they have
made a joke they are not sure is a very good one.
'For shame, Antony,' said his mother quickly. And John Paqualin turned
on the lad, his eyes glowing like live coals.
'Ah! it is noble and generous in a handsome fellow like you to taunt me
and scoff at me! Heaven pay you back in your own coin.'
Eliza gave a scream, and seized Gustavus by the arm as though she
required protection from some most fearful danger.
'For the love of the saints, ma'am, let us go on, and get out of
the way of this wild animal,' she said, in a very loud whisper. 'He
looks wicked enough to commit a crime. Keep off, Gustavus! What are
you thinking about, catching hold like that of a respectable, young,
servant woman?'
'Why it was you who caught hold of me, Eliza,' answered the cowherd
mildly.
Paqualin, meanwhile, looked round the little group with a sort of
despair in his poor ugly face.
'It is all useless,' he said; 'you will not listen to or believe me. I
only get jeered at. You all despise me.'
[Illustration: 'YOU ALL DESPISE ME.' _Page 66._]
He turned away with a bitter cry, and shambled off into the forest.
'Good-bye, dear John Paqualin, good-bye.--No, I won't hush, Eliza.
I love him, he is a very kind friend to me.--Good-bye, dear John
Paqualin,' little Peter called after him.
He felt very very sorry for the poor charcoal-burner.
'Whoof,' went Madelon, the sow, making a run at Cincinnatus--who sat
washing his face on the clean flags just outside the door of the
farm-house--and taking him so by surprise that he leapt up, with a
prodigious tail, on to the window ledge, without even waiting to
scratch. Then she cantered off, grunting and shaking her great bristly,
floppety ears, after her master.
'Next time I see the charcoal-burner, it will undoubtedly be my duty to
spit at him,' said Cincinnatus to himself in the cat-language. 'After
that which has just occurred, I feel it is quite unnecessary to take any
second opinion upon the subject.'
'Forward, march,' cried Master Lepage gaily. 'Enjoy yourselves. Let no
thought of that unfortunate being's prognostications disturb you. The
day will be charming.'
And so, after all, they started for Nullepart.