[Illustration]

“Forget them,” interrupted the King, seating himself again. “Now, good

fellow, tell me where your ruler lives, and how far it is from here.”

“His Majesty, King Kul lives (as all men should know) at Banrive, which

is a day’s march from here. And now I must insist----”

“Then we will rest here to-night and leave on that day’s march by dawn

to-morrow. In the meantime we would eat.”

“Nay, fair sir, that I cannot allow. If my lord----”

“We will need,” said the King, “some good meaty matter (such as pork)

as a groundwork. And as beans go well with pork let there be beans

also.”

“And some beer,” suggested Vanderdecken.

“_And_ some beer of course. So see to it, for we would eat quickly, and

rest. And talking of rest, where is your lord’s bedchamber?”

“It is here,” said the steward, opening a door and displaying a large

room with two canopied beds in it. “But I fear I cannot allow you to

use my lord’s best beds, for if----”

“You take that one,” said the King to Vanderdecken, pointing to the

largest bed. “It looks very comfortable.”

“No,” replied Vanderdecken politely, “_you_ take it.”

“I should really like you to have it,” said the King.

“Let’s flip for it,” suggested Vanderdecken, producing a piece of

eight. “Sudden death.”

“Heads!” said the King.

“Tails,” said Vanderdecken, displaying the coin. “Sorry, old chap.” He

got into bed (with his sea-boots on) to see how it felt. “Very nice.

We’ll have a good sleep to-night anyhow.”

They went back to their men and directed proceedings. Some men went out

to fetch straw to sleep on, others went to the kitchen and instructed

by Vanderdecken’s cook (whose soup was the cause of all these

adventures) prepared some choice food (he was very good at sea-pie),

and drew off many gallons of strong beer to wash it down. The steward

followed them about with a pen and ink-horn and a piece of parchment,

entering against each item taken what he conceived to be the highest

tavern rates. A faithful fellow, but something of an ass.

When the meal was over sentries were posted on the walls and the others

lay down on the straw. The King and Vanderdecken retired to their beds

after giving orders that they were to be roused an hour before the dawn.

“I say, this _is_ comfort,” said Vanderdecken, plumping up a feather

pillow. “By the way, let’s hope we find those youngsters pretty soon.”

“Yes,” agreed the King. “Because if we don’t, we’ll be forced to

introduce battle, murder and sudden death into these parts, and I want

to avoid that if I can.”

HOW GORBO GATHERED MANDRAKES

When at last Gorbo desisted from his damp job of looking for mandrakes,

the dawn was breaking. It seemed to him that his back was breaking

also, for he had stooped and stooped and pulled at roots almost without

pause throughout the dismal night. He rested awhile on a fallen log

and tried to rest his spine, taking quick looks behind him at intervals.

[Illustration]

It _had_ been a night. Not only were the true mandrakes extremely

rare--after hours and hours of search he had only got six that he was

pretty sure of--but he had been worried by his surroundings. Leaving

out the bats, who were troublesome enough, he had been in continuous

doubt of the things that lurked in the black shade of the trees round

about, things rather like men, but with little furious faces and big

pointed ears and mouths that slobbered, who gibbered and pointed at

him in the moonlight. There was one fat pale thing, who if he was not

a ghoul was extremely like one, and he had come and sat under a holly

bush, staring earnestly at him for hours and hours, and occasionally

shrieking with laughter. Gorbo was not superstitious in the ordinary

sense of the word, but the night had left him nervy, if I may be

allowed the expression; especially as he had been warned not to speak

while at the job and he wanted so much to relieve his feelings by

saying things. In fact if cold fingers had touched him on the back of

the neck while he was resting on the log, I think he would have jumped

to quite a height; and I do not blame him, for I know that I should

have done very much the same.

However, here he had six mandrakes in the basket and the night was

past. He got up and made his way along the trail back to Mother

Meldrum’s house, and hoped that part of his troubles were over, as she

could now get busy with spells and the like, and so get the little

doors open. There would be, of course, the wood of twisted trees to

pass on the other side; but he had hopes that he would not find this

too difficult, since he had learned quite a lot of common sense in the

last two or three days and he would apply it. Let him but get to the

other side of the river, he thought, and he would soon find a way to

get the children safely home.

He called out for Sylvia and Joe as he came near the house; but there

was no reply, no running of little feet to greet him. He went quickly

to the kitchen door and pushed it open, but there was nobody there. He

called again loudly and anxiously, and then a door at the side of the

fireplace opened and Golithos came out, stooping almost double to get

through.

“Hullo,” he said in an unfriendly tone, “what do _you_ want?”

“Where are those children?” demanded Gorbo, as soon as he had recovered

from his surprise.

“Children? How should I know? I’m not a nursery-maid.”

Gorbo dropped his basket and switched his bow round to have it handy.

“Oh, leave that bow of yours alone!” cried Golithos, changing his tone.

“You’re always making me nervous with the beastly thing. The little

ones went away in the night along with the funny man, Mother Meldrum

says, and _I_ don’t know where they are. How should I?”

“Where’s she gone to?” said Gorbo after a miserable moment. “Quick!”

“She ran out to look for them. Oh, do put it down! It’s not my fault,

is it?”

Gorbo stood with his face all twisted with dismay, staring up at the

other. What had happened now? He thought and thought, but could make

nothing of it.

“Sit down and make yourself at home,” said Golithos after a moment,

taking a seat on a stool by the fireplace. “She’ll be back soon I

expect.”

Gorbo sat down after a moment or two and stared at the fire and

thought. Golithos looked awkwardly at him from time to time, but did

not speak. And so they sat in silence until a brisk step was heard

without and Gorbo started up.

The door opened with a crash and Mother Meldrum appeared, looking

horribly gaunt and ugly and angry in a long outdoor cloak and a high

peaked hat.

“Oh, so you’re back, are you?” she said.

“Yes, Mum. But where’s Sylvia and Joe?”

“They’re gone--the little fools!”

“Gone _where_?” cried Gorbo.

“You keep civil!” shouted the old woman. “Don’t you bellow at me!”

“No, Mum, I won’t,” said poor Gorbo. “But where have they gone

to--please?”

“King Kul will have them by to-night. Them and the funny man. I ran

after them when I found they’d gone, but I was just too late. The funny

man was on one horse--with his mouth tied up, which shows they’ve got

some sense--and those fool children were each sitting in front of a

rider. Now perhaps they’re wishing they hadn’t run away from old Mother

Meldrum.”

“Which way did they go?” cried Gorbo, making for the door. “I’ll catch

them up----”

“Oh, will you? Well, if you think you can catch mounted men when

they’ve got a two hours’ start, or if you think you could do anything

if you _did_ catch up with them, you’re a bigger fool than you

look--and that’s saying a good deal.”

“But--but what did they run away for?” asked Gorbo, struck with a new

doubt.

“How do I know? I was sitting talking to this harmless old bunch of

nerves” (indicating Golithos) “who’d come to pay me a neighbourly

visit, when I thought I’d give a look at them to see that they were

quite comfortable. And when I got up there the room was empty and the

window was open and they’d gone. And the funny man was gone too. So I

just went after them, and got sight of them just too late. King Kul’s

got them all right. I suppose the funny man told them to go. He’s

noodle enough for anything. But if you really want to save them, I’ll

tell you the only way how.”

“Oh, thank you, Mum!” exclaimed Gorbo.

“But first I’m going to have breakfast.” She threw off her cloak and

began clattering the pots and pans about. “I’m not going to starve for

those brats.”

“If I hadn’t been all the night getting those mandrakes,” said Gorbo,

tearing at his hair, “I wouldn’t have lost them. Oh, I _am_ the biggest

fool after all!”

“You’re near it at any rate.” Mother Meldrum had stopped in her work

and picked up the basket he had brought. “Is this what you call

mandrakes?”

“Yes, Mum,” replied Gorbo humbly. “It seemed to me they squeaked a

little when I pulled them up.”

“Common swamp parsnips!” said Mother Meldrum with bitter scorn,

flinging them out of the door. “So that’s all the good _you_ are. Yah!”

She turned away and went on with her cooking.

Gorbo sat down and buried his face in his hands. Blow after blow. Not

only had he lost the children, but he had lost them while searching

throughout a hard disagreeable night for a few worthless specimens of

the common swamp parsnip (_Avacabolis communis_). Life really did not

seem worth living to him.

“Liven up!” said the old woman after a while. “I’ll show you the way to

save them, as I said; you trust to old Mother Meldrum. Meantime you’d

better eat.”

She dished up a huge platter of kidneys, small sausages and bacon, and

an omelette. The exquisite savour of these, together with her proffer

of help, brought some cheer to the sore heart of Gorbo and he drew up

his stool to the table and ate gratefully. The kidneys were cooked to

perfection, the omelette had been made by the hand of an artist. Mother

Meldrum was wicked and cruel and ugly and feared by all, but there was

that in her which goes far to redeem the character of the vilest--she

_could_ cook.

“Golithos only eats grass and such like,” she said with a fiendish

laugh, “so he can finish up this bit of raw cabbage. Eat hearty,

Golithos.”

Golithos drew up his stool with a discontented look and picked

daintily at the cabbage, eating with his front teeth only as if he

had no appetite for it. He looked longingly at the mixed grill, but

his fear of Mother Meldrum was great and he kept silent. She told him

(while drawing a pot of foaming beer for Gorbo) that he would find all

the water he wanted and more in the water-butt outside.

Breakfast being over she sat and considered awhile, casting an

occasional glance at Golithos. It was evident that she desired him out

of the way; and it is usually a delicate matter to convey to a third

person that he is what the French call _de trop_. But she managed it.

[Illustration]

“Golithos,” she said suddenly, “get to blazes out of this. Go outside

and stay by that tree stump over there so that I can see you’re not

listening.”

Golithos got up and moved blunderingly out of the door and stood where

she had told him to, looking sulkily about him.

THE COZENING OF GORBO

“He’s a slow-witted one if ever there was one,” Mother Meldrum

remarked. “You’re not much, but you’re better than he is. Now what

I have to tell you is this. Those children are in deadly peril--now

don’t start interrupting me, or I’ll leave you to settle it yourself.

You don’t know about King Kul, but I do. If I were to tell you only

half the things he’s done it would make each one of those coarse hairs

of yours stand up, and as that wouldn’t be a pretty sight I won’t do

it. But I’ll tell you he’s the fiercest and cruellest beast that ever

brandished a sceptre. Now the only way to save those children from a

horrible fate--at the least having their heads cut off as obtrusive

foreigners--is for you to kill him. I’m not counting the funny man at

all; he’s a goner in any case.”

“But--but surely, Mum,” said Gorbo in great horror, “no man would kill

two harmless little things like them! Why, it simply isn’t done!”

The old woman laughed scornfully. “Poor innocent old Foozelum. Why, he

does things like that for fun. It’s a saying of his that he loves to

see a little head bounce off its stalk. Of course you haven’t heard

about the infants’ class at the Sunday School. However, don’t let’s go

into disagreeable details; the main thing is that somebody has got to

finish him off. I’ve tried to get Golithos to do the job, but he hasn’t

any pluck now and I’m tired of arguing with him. Now, will you do it?

Remember it’s the only possible way of saving those little ones.”

“Yes, Mum,” replied Gorbo, springing up. “You just show me the way

there and I’ll see what I can do with my little bow.”

“You needn’t trouble about your little bow. In the first place you’d

never be able to get through the guards so as to have a shot at him.

There’s only one way to do it surely, and it’s lucky you’ve got an

experienced witch to tell you how.”

“I’ll do it any way you say, Mum; so long as I can do it quick.”

“That’s the sort of man I like,” she said approvingly. “Just wait here

a bit.”

She went out, and Gorbo sat in a state of horror and dismay. Here was a

terrible result of his fatheadedness! To know that the innocent little

ones were in the power of a tyrant who loved to see small heads bounce

off--to know that if he had not tempted them to visit the twisted trees

they would have been long ago safe in their own home--to realize that

his name would be held for ever in execration among the Snergs as the

fool who led the two children to captivity and death! No wonder he

bowed his head and moaned in anguish and wept.

Mother Meldrum returned with a long thin bundle under her arm. “Now

then, waterworks,” she said, in coarse allusion to his tears, “sit up

and pay attention for there must be no mistake here.”

“Yes, Mum.” Gorbo sat up and listened eagerly.

“First, you’ll have to get into the King’s palace without being seen.

And the only way to do that is to wear a cap of invisibility. Here

it is” (producing a seedy looking article). “It is seven hundred

years old, which accounts for its being a bit out of fashion, but it

works all right. Take it and be careful never to put it on until you

actually need it, because it only works once with one person. If you

were to put it on now you would be invisible for about ten minutes.

Then its power--with you--would be gone for ever. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mum. You mean I must only use it when I get into the palace.”

“You’ve got it. You’re improving a bit. Now the next thing is _this_.”

She produced a long whippy sapling and swished it in the air.

“Yes, Mum. And what do I do with that?”

“This,” she said impressively, “is a sword of sharpness. The instant

you smite with it it turns into a sword, and any person you smite will

be cut into two halves. It belonged originally to a cousin of Queen

Mab; he used it to clear up some family trouble. But remember that when

you have smitten it once it becomes a sapling again and its power goes

for ever--that is, as far as you are concerned.”

“Yes, Mum. You mean that if I swot the King with it he will be cut into

two bits.”

“That’s it. And it will look rather well; sorry I won’t be there to

see it. Now when you have done this there will probably be more than a

little excitement and it will be advisable for you to get out of the

way for a time. You see when the tyrant is dead the people will rise up

in their power and celebrate by freeing all the unhappy prisoners and

so forth, and that, of course, will save those dear little children.

But _you_ had better go for a little run.”

“Yes, Mum. But how do I manage it?”

“These” (producing a very shabby pair of slippers) “are shoes of

swiftness. The moment you have done the deed, slip these on and run.

But I advise you not to run too much or you may find yourself in

Mesopotamia or in the middle of the ocean or somewhere. Just a few

brisk steps will be enough, and even then it will take you half the

night to walk back, because these, like the cap and sword, only work

once. When you get back again you will be hailed as a great and good

man and the dear little things will be delivered over to you safe and

sound. Also your friend the funny man, if you really need him. So

here’s everything, nicely wrapped up. Do exactly as I’ve told you, and

remember that if you make a mess of it, the children’s ghosts will

haunt you--carrying their little heads under their arms.”

“I’ll start now,” cried Gorbo, taking the bundle containing the

wonderful treasures and his bow and other matters and making for the

door. “Just tell me the road.”

“Turn to the left when you get out of the wood and go along the green

drive for a mile or two. Then you’ll hit the high road which leads

straight to the town. So go to it!”

[Illustration]

Gorbo thanked her briefly but fervently and darted off down the path.

Mother Meldrum watched him disappear in the trees and then went back

and sat down and laughed until she shook with horrid merriment.

A FEARFUL BARGAIN

After a few minutes’ enjoyment of her secret jest she called to

Golithos to approach, and he came in looking very sulky and seated

himself.

“Where have you sent that Snerg to?” he asked.

“Ah,” she replied, “that’s telling.” And she went on chuckling.

“Now,” she said after a time, “let’s get to business. Are you going

to take my offer or not? I may as well warn you (if you haven’t found

it out yet) that I’m a bit short-tempered, and if you get obstinate

with me I’ve ways of making all kinds of trouble for you. I’m not an

experienced witch for nothing.”

Golithos scratched his head in a discontented way. “It’s so dangerous,”

he said at length.

“So it is to make me annoyed. Now then, answer up! Will you kill the

King if I get those young ones for you?”

“But you haven’t got them to give.”

“Yah! I can get them back easily enough if I make up my mind to do

it--and if you make it worth my while.”

“Yes, but--but why didn’t you get that Snerg to kill him. He’s fool

enough.”

“Yes, he is--a bit worse than you in some ways, and that’s why I sent

him out of the way. But the reason is that I’ve found out by black

magic that if the King is killed at all it will be done by an ogre, and

you’re the only one left in these parts. So now you know.”

“Oh! So that’s it, is it?--And does your magic say what will happen to

the ogre?”

“Yes, it says he’ll live happy ever after.”

Golithos scratched his head again. In spite of his belief in Mother

Meldrum he had doubts whether she was telling the exact truth here.

“I suppose I must do it,” he muttered sullenly. “But I want to be sure

of those little ones first. You bring them here and keep them safe for

me first. Then I’ll go and do it.”

The old woman glared furiously at him. “Yes, you’re trying to get me

annoyed,” she said. “Very well, then, _I’ll_ show you.”

“No, wait, please! You see if I could just _see_ them it would put me

in such good heart for the job. I’ve been living on lettuce and stuff

like that so long that I’m not as brave as I was; and though I’ve eaten

my cow it doesn’t encourage me like my own natural food. You _must_ see

that. It’s so reasonable.”

She looked at him partly in rage and partly in doubt. “H’m!” she

sniffed, “you’re the flabbiest thing in ogres I’ve ever met, and I’ve

met a few in my time. Do you mean to say that if I’d shown them to you

this morning you’d have done the King in?”

“Yes,” he replied eagerly, “that’s it. Just a glimpse of those

nice little well-filled-out children--which you promised me so

faithfully--would have made me quite anxious to do it. But I never even

got a peep at them,” he went on pathetically. “You must own it’s hard

on me.”

“I’ll get even with the funny man,” growled Mother Meldrum. “Well,

suppose I bring them both back? Will you go straight off at once as

soon as you’ve had a look at them and do what I want?”

“Oh, yes! I’ll just have one good look at them and I’ll go at once.

Of course if I could have a piece of one first, just to encourage me

properly, so to speak----”

“Well, you won’t. You’ll see them when I’ve got them safely here and

then you’ll be off, or you’ll see what I’m like when really annoyed.

Did you bring your axe with you?”

“Yes, I’ve got it here.” He went to a corner of the kitchen and

produced a mighty battle-axe and balanced it in his hand. “Many’s the

stout man-at-arms I’ve laid out with this in the old days.”

“The days when you had some pluck, you mean.”

“Yes, that’s it. But my pluck’s coming back. And if you give me a nice

roast pig for dinner, it’ll come back more. And when I see those dear

little children waiting for me, it’ll fix it for keeps.” His eyes

were rolling and his teeth were showing fiercely now, and he handled

the axe, which any other man could scarcely lift, as if it were a

medium-sized chopper.

“Yes,” said Mother Meldrum, after watching him for a moment, “I think

that’s the way it will have to be. I see you need some practical

encouragement, being the worm you are, so wait here until I come back

with them. Keep your courage up by thinking about them. It’s taken a

long time to work you up to this, Golithos,” she went on with a fierce

laugh, “but I think I’ve done it at last. You’ll get what you want, and

I’ll get what _I_ want--_Revenge_!”

She sprang up and did a hideous dance of joy round the kitchen,

footing it with an agility that seemed marvellous considering her

years. Golithos, whose long dormant savagery was awakening fast,

laughed long and boisterously. Truly a terrible scene. Let us not

linger over it.

CAPTIVES ON THE ROAD

It is fortunate for children (and for grown-ups too if they can

manage it) when they do not concern themselves greatly about the

future possibilities of a calamity. Sylvia and Joe were of this

kind--especially Joe--and what chiefly troubled them as they rode along

in front of their guards was the separation from their friend Gorbo,

who if he could not have actually saved them from this happening, would

at least have been comfort to them on the road; the fact that they were

being carried captives to a monarch of whom they had heard distressing

accounts seemed less of an evil, for its troubles were connected with

the future, and the future is always some distance ahead.

They were not treated badly, and they were allowed to talk with the

men-at-arms with whom they rode, but in a low voice because otherwise

it would have been bad for discipline. Baldry rode at some distance

from them so they got no chance to speak to him. The leader had allowed

him to go unmuzzled after a time on the condition that he did not talk,

and Baldry passed the time singing quietly to himself songs about cruel

fate and other melancholy subjects. He had evidently resigned himself

to whatever might befall.

The leader--whose name they learned was Sir Giles--asked the children

some questions as to how they came to be with the King’s jester, but

though they answered him truthfully and told him all about Watkyns Bay

(which he had never heard of) and the Snergs (of whom he had heard very

little and that little not good) and their strange adventures, he could

make nothing of it; and he finally said that it defeated him entirely

and that abler heads than his must solve the mystery.

As they went on the country became rather more populated; there were

farms and windmills and so forth, and here and there a small castle or

moated grange. They halted for about half an hour at an inn to rest the

horses and have breakfast; Sir Giles told the host to send the bill in

to the Chancellor of the Exchequer. Sylvia and Joe had each a plate of

little hot fish, rather like sardines, and a bowl of milk, and this

cheered them up greatly. Baldry interrupted his sad crooning to eat two

chops and drink a pot of ale. Then he went on with a new song about his

being Fortune’s toy. Baldry wanted some understanding.

It was well on in the afternoon when they came round the corner of a

thick wood and saw the town close at hand. It reminded the children of

a picture of a mediæval town on a coloured calendar that Miss Scadging

had brought from London last year. The houses had heavy crossed timbers

and high pitched roofs, and the streets were paved with huge cobble

stones like grey footballs. They passed through a gate with big towers

and by quaint little shops and taverns where people sat outside on

benches and drank out of large pots, or else leaned against posts.

There seemed to be a good deal of spare time in the town, and people

came clustering round to stare at the children; but when Baldry was

recognized (he had for some reason seated himself facing the horse’s

tail as soon as they reached the town) there was great excitement, and

they called other people to come and see. But Sir Giles ordered them

to stand back like good fellows and make way for the King’s men, and

the procession went clattering down the street until it halted in the

courtyard of the royal palace.

It was indeed an anxious moment for Joe and Sylvia as they were lifted

down and led through into a lofty hall. At first they had only a

confused impression of brilliant costumes and high pointed head-dresses

of ladies and the crimson legs of small pages and general gorgeousness.

Compared to the palace of King Merse II this was as a house in Park

Lane, W. is to a maisonnette in Poplar, E., and they felt very small

and untidy and of no importance at all as they went with Sir Giles

(Sylvia carrying the puppy) through these high-class surroundings and

halted before a throne on which was seated one who wore a kingly crown.

At last they were in the presence of the dreaded monarch.

KING KUL I

It would be well here to point out to my readers (and especially the

younger ones) that rumour is more often contradicted than confirmed by

experience, and to enlarge on the moral conveyed. The reason against

my doing so at length is the fear that I may become a little tedious,

so I will merely state that, to the great surprise and relief of the

children, there were no signs of ruthlessness about the King.

He was of great girth and he had a flowing grey beard, and in these

particulars he bore out Baldry’s description of him. But his expression

was one of benevolence and good humour and he smiled on the children

with what, if it had not been blent with a touch of native majesty,

might have been described as a sort of fatuous fatherliness.

[Illustration]

He was richly though tastefully arrayed. His doublet was of three (or

four) piled velvet, green and embroidered with gold, and his hose were

shrimp pink, a colour he much affected. From his shoulders hung a

sky-blue robe lined with ermine, and the crown on his partially bald

head was decorated with fine repoussé work. Never had the children

conceived such magnificence in a man’s dress, and they stared in wonder

and admiration.

“Welcome, Sir Giles,” he said, ignoring Baldry, who went down on his

knees beside the children. “Tell me who are these little ones and how

came you to bring them together with this rudesby.”

“‘Rudesby’ is rather good,” observed Baldry in an interested tone.

“I found them travelling with the knave, sire,” replied Sir Giles. “And

as I could not leave them alone in the forest I brought them also. But

I can make nothing of their tale, sire. It appears to me such as might

be told by a minstrel who had been too long at the wine-pot. A tale of

a certain Countess Watkyns in that terror-haunted land beyond the deep

river, and of many millions of other children, and of Snergs who are

friendly with them. I leave it to your Majesty to judge, for I can make

nothing of it.”

“Ah, you’re slow, that’s what’s the matter,” remarked Baldry.

“Silence, thou villain!” roared the King.

Baldry clapped both hands over his mouth with a look of extreme terror.

“Snergs, did you say?” went on the King. “Could it be possible that

these little innocents know aught of that fierce and cruel race?”

“Please, sir,” said Joe, who felt that he must defend his friends,

holding up one hand according to the custom of Watkyns Bay in class

time. “Please, sir, we’re all very fond of the Snergs. They’re not

fierce at all.”

“Not fierce, say you, little man! Nay, that passes understanding. There

must be more in this than meets the eye.”

“You mean the ear, of course,” said Baldry.

“Remove me this pestilent ass!” cried the King. “We will judge his case

at a fitter time.”

Four men-at-arms surrounded the jester and, at a word of command from

Sir Giles, marched out with him. His really incredible folly caused

him to drop on all fours and go out creeping swiftly between them;

doubtless he gathered some encouragement from the smothered laughter of

the more thoughtless courtiers.

Put to some extent at his ease by the King’s kind manner, Joe told

the tale of their wanderings and adventures. He explained as well as

he could and with Sylvia’s assistance, the way of living at Watkyns

Bay, the general nature of the country beyond the deep river, and the

amiable character of the Snergs, with whom the Society lived on such

satisfactory terms. The King listened in deep wonder.

[Illustration]

“Can it be,” he said, turning to the court, “that we have been in

ignorance of the true nature of things beyond the river?--that we have

accepted without question the traditions handed down to us, and are now

to be corrected by these babes? Can it be----” He went on moralising in

most approved fashion, and the courtiers made acquiescing murmurs, as

was expected of them.

“But one thing is clear,” he went on. “We must pay instant attention to

this Golithos, who appears to give indications of becoming a menace,

and also to Mother Meldrum. She has had a good deal of rope in the

past, and perchance it is the time to give her a bit more, though in a

different sense of the word. They must be brought here for judgment at

once. That shall be your next job, Sir Giles.”

“Oh, very well, sire,” replied Sir Giles, but not very heartily.

“And that reminds me,” said the King. “Your betrothed, the Lady

Ermyntrude, can look after these little ones, for the hour is late,

and we would have them to sit at our evening meal. So fair damsel,” he

continued to a young lady standing nearby, “take charge of this little

golden-haired maid and this sturdy male infant and see that they be

given a change of raiment and also (for they _are_ a bit grubby) the

refreshment of the bath.”

The young lady, who was richly dressed, and extremely pretty (her

one defect was a touch of indefinable sauciness) came forward and

curtseyed. She then gave a hand to each of the children and led them

forth.

A CHANGE OF CLOTHES AT LAST

With the assistance of a couple of maids, Sylvia and Joe were soon

tubbed and scrubbed and then seated, each wrapped in a sheet, awaiting

the decision of the Lady Ermyntrude, who took clothes seriously. In

time she selected what she considered suitable from the royal wardrobe

(things that the royal children had grown out of) and began to dress

them up. When she had finished with them the effect was startling.

Sylvia had on a dress of white silk adorned with flowers and bees

worked in gold, and little red shoes with pom-poms on them. Her hair

was all fluffed out beneath a snow-white cap like a sugar loaf leaning

backwards. Joe had a bright crimson doublet and hose and a cap with a

white feather on it. His shoes wanted some getting used to for the toes

were so pointed and long that they had to be fastened to his knees with

tiny gold chains. In his belt he had a little dagger in an embroidered

sheath, and this he liked more than anything. He told Sylvia that he

had told her all along that things would come out all right and that

she needn’t worry.

“What do you think of Sir Giles?” asked the Lady Ermyntrude when the

children’s toilet was complete and they were sitting opposite to her on

two footstools.

“He’s not bad,” replied Joe. (After all, Sir Giles had looked after

them pretty well and given them breakfast.)

“He’s bossy,” said the lady (not the word she used of course, but the

nearest I can get to it).

“Is he, Miss?” Sylvia asked.

“Yes, with most people. But not with me.” Here she laughed scornfully.

“You’re going to marry him, aren’t you, Miss--I mean, my Lady?” asked

Sylvia timidly.

“In August.”

“Oh, so soon?” Sylvia got greatly interested. “Bridesmaids?”

“Six. Would you like to see my wedding-dress--as far as it’s gone?”

“I should _love_ it!”

So Joe had to wander about the room for half an hour while these two

thoroughly feminine females went into close details.

ANOTHER MEAL WITH ROYALTY

The evening meal was a matter of some ceremony and observance of old

customs. The public was admitted in moderate numbers on payment of

a small fee (which went to the poor) and it was quite the thing for

people who wanted to give country friends a treat to take them to the

palace in order to see from behind a railed-off space the royal party

feeding. Those who came on this particular evening had no reason to

complain that they had not had their money’s worth.

The jovial character of the King made him sometimes impatient of

ceremony, and once the trumpets had sounded to announce that he had

removed his outer robe and taken his seat, he would adopt a free

and easy manner calculated to put nervous guests at their ease. I

do not mean that Joe and Sylvia were nervous. They had been guests

of honour at the table of King Merse II and knew something of the

ways of courts--though this of course was on a much more magnificent

scale--and, in addition, they were upheld by the consciousness that

they were fitly attired. Those who know--as I confess I do--the great

gain in ease and self-respect due to a new suit of clothes will readily

understand this.

While the meal proceeded the King expressed sympathy with them for

their mislaying of Gorbo and comforted them by saying that he would

undoubtedly turn up safe and sound. He said he would have inquiries

made at once.

“It is indeed a gratification,” he said, “to hear that the Snergs are

nice and harmless and not at all fierce. I must try and arrange some

way of meeting their king, who I have no doubt is a very worthy man in

his way. It would be to clear up the misunderstandings of ages. And

I should especially like to see your faithful friend Gorbo. I trust I

shall shortly. In the meantime,” he went on with hospitable smiles,

“have another of these, Sylvia” (handing her a plate of confections

rather like muffins with fruit inside). “Little girls should build up

their systems with plenty of food, and these are full of vitamines.”

“Thank you, sire,” said Sylvia, taking one.

“But these are cold,” went on the King as he bit into another. “Let me

give you a hot one.” Then, for as I have said he despised ceremony in

small things, he rose and reached for a huge silver dish (with a hot

water arrangement beneath it) where the muffins were heaped.

I ask you to note that, the dish being at some distance from him, he

leant forward until he was almost prone on the table, the muffin he had

bitten to test its temperature being still between his teeth.

A STINGER

At that instant fearful shouts were heard, and to the bewildering

surprise and joy of Sylvia and Joe, they saw Gorbo bounding up the

hall. He wore instead of his close-fitting Snerg cap, a strange one of

filthy appearance. In his left hand he bore a pair of ragged shoes, and

in his right he held aloft a long whippy sapling.

He did not see them; even if he had he would not have recognized in

these splendidly-dressed children his travel-stained young friends; he

had eyes only for the alleged tyrant whose gold crown revealed his

identity and whose attitude as he leaned across the table was excellent

for the user of a magic sword. He leapt forward--remember all this

occupied but one or two seconds--and brought the sapling down on the

King’s person with a juicy smack that rang through the hall.

[Illustration]

To say merely that things moved briskly after this is to confess--as

I must--inability to cope in words with so strange a situation. I

will, however, do my best to give a general impression of subsequent

happenings.

The King bounced upright--nay, more than upright--and with eyes

goggling and utterance impeded by the muffin in his mouth, glared

maniacally at his assailant. And all present were so paralysed with

amazement that for an instant there was utter silence. O moments big as

years!

The thoughts of Gorbo in that bitter speck of time might be expressed

as follows:--

“I have been cozened. This cap is not a cap of invisibility, because

everybody is looking at me. This sapling is not a sword of sharpness,

because just look at what’s happened! Therefore, for the love of Mike,

let these be shoes of swiftness, for I need them!”

He flung away the sapling, sprang into the shoes, and ran.

He ran into the arms of about twenty soldiers, each of whom grabbed a

bit of him somewhere.

“It’s Gorbo!” cried Sylvia in agony. “Oh, poor old Gorbo!”

“Gorbo, is it?” roared the King, sweeping away with his arms those who

rushed to tend him, and literally gnashing his teeth. “So _that’s_ your

Gorbo? Harmless, eh? Not fierce at all! Oh----!”

Here I must cease writing down his words.

THE MORNING AFTER

When the children woke next day the events of the evening came to them

with a shock. They had not been thrown into a dungeon, as they had not

unreasonably feared would be the case, but had been rather hurriedly

bundled out of the way by the Lady Ermyntrude and put to bed in a

fairly comfortable back room with two beds and told to go to sleep at

once, which they felt was rather a difficult thing to do under the

circumstances. They felt that they were losing their popularity, and

besides, they were greatly worried about their friend. Speculation as

to why he had behaved as he had and what would be his probable fate

kept them whispering for hours.

But when they were dressed by a maid (who brought them an early cup of

milk) and had gone downstairs, they found the situation easier. The

King had passed a good night. He had no temperature and was able to eat

a hearty breakfast. He did not express a wish to see the children, and

they were glad of this because they felt it would have been so awkward.

The Lady Ermyntrude gave them their breakfast and then took them out

for a walk in the garden, and Tiger had a run with some puppies that

belonged to her.

The King attended a council at which were discussed various suggestions

made by the nobles as to the ceremonies to be observed in the cutting

off of Gorbo’s head. It was finally decided that it should be done in

the market-place at 11.30, and, this being settled, the King proposed

(for the basis of his method of government was strict justice) that the

villain should receive a fair trial.

Gorbo was brought in, loaded with an almost unnecessary length of

chain, and stood before the Lord Chancellor, who was to conduct the

case.

“Your name, prisoner?” asked the Lord Chancellor.

“Gorbo, so please you, sir,” replied the unhappy Snerg.

“Your age, Gorbo?”

“Two hundred and seventy-three, sir.”

“Your occupation, Gorbo?”

“Potter, sir.”

“And why, Gorbo, did you leave the harmless calling of potting to come

to this land and give a fleshy cut to the King’s Grace?”

“Because----” He could say no more.

“The reason is inadequate, Gorbo. Think, for your time on earth is

short if you give no better bid for life.”

“Mother Meldrum told me to,” said Gorbo, his wits roused by the

extremity.

“Aha, now we get near it! But even then, Gorbo, the reason seems no

full one. Is it the foul custom of the Snergs to smite all, however

exalted, at the chance word of a witch?”

“She--she said that the King was a grievous tyrant--and that he needed

killing badly. But the chief reason was she said that if I didn’t kill

him, he’d kill Sylvia and Joe.”

The Lord Chancellor turned to the King. “In truth, sire, we seem to

have secured, at the cost of a stinger to your Majesty’s person, the

biggest numskull the world has ever known.”

“It would seem so,” agreed the King, with a half pitying look at Gorbo.

“I suggest, my lords, that he be allowed to tell his tale in his own

fashion and we will then see if it agrees in substance with the tale of

those little ones.”

“A noble idea and worthy of your Majesty’s brain capacity,” said the

Lord Chancellor. “Come, fellow, your tale, plainly told.”

With much faltering and stammering (for he feared he had proved the

truth of the prophecy that he was the biggest fool) Gorbo began his

account of all that had happened since he left Watkyns Bay. He warmed

up as he proceeded and got more at his ease, for he saw that all

listened with deep interest. He diplomatically stopped at the point

where he arrived at the palace gates on the previous evening.

“All agrees well with the tale of the children,” said the King. “I

think, my lords, we must let this oaf keep his head for the present.”

“Yes, sire,” said the Lord Chancellor, “and in my opinion----”

But his opinion was lost to the world, for at that instant there was

heard a clamour without and a sounding knock at the door.

THE INVASION

The door opened smartly and the Captain of the City Guard appeared

framed in the doorway, a stoutly-built man in a full suit of mail, with

a beard like a pound of coarse-cut tobacco and a rough but not unkindly

face.

“My liege,” he said, making a leg, “pray pardon my pushing in, but a

strange armed force has appeared suddenly, demanding the surrender of

the two foreign children and the Snerg.”

“An armed force, fellow!” cried the King with justifiable anger.

“Demanding of _me_--I mean us! You are surely talking through your

morion.”

[Illustration]

“Nay, sire, it is but too true. Some two score of large men in quaint

boots and some ten score or more of small dwarfish men who may be

Snergs. They say that if the three they demand be given to them

uninjured they will go in peace.”

The King rose to the occasion with true dignity. “Admit them to the

City,” he said. “We will talk with their leader.”

“Well, sire,” said the Captain of the Guard, with a not unnatural

embarrassment, “the fact is, they have admitted themselves. You see, it

happened that I was athirst, and----”

“We will look into that later,” interrupted the King with a stern look.

“In the meantime, invite this force into our hall as soon as I have

taken my seat on the throne.”

AN HISTORIC MEETING

The force was drawn up in an orderly way in the hall; Snergs on

the right flank, four deep, and the Dutchmen on the left flank.

Vanderdecken knew something of the art of war--so useful to seamen

of his day--and he had trained his crew to do some simple military

exercises, including musketry drill. On the whole the Expeditionary

Force, with Snergs in half armour and the sailors carrying their

muskets at the slope, looked hard and efficient.

King Kul left his throne and advanced six steps. King Merse came

forward, looking every inch a king, though small.

“Welcome, our cousin of Snerg.”

Their hands met. King Kul took the arm of the other and led him to

a seat by the throne. There was a murmur of satisfaction from the

assembled courtiers, while the two exchanged the friendly, but not

necessarily very deep, remarks which characterize the conversation of

princes or presidents who meet for the first time.

It is of course not very probable that any of my readers will visit

this land, but if by chance they should do so I recommend them to

take special note of the fresco which was painted to commemorate this

historic scene, for it well repays inspection. It is in the vaulted

corridor on the left of the hall, next to the cloak-room.

NECESSARY EXPLANATIONS

Formalities were soon over, and King Kul ordered that the two children

be brought to greet their friends. In the meantime, he stood, his

hands lightly clasped behind him, talking to Vanderdecken, who had

been presented to him with due ceremony and whose sterling qualities

he could both discern and appreciate. Though but a merchant adventurer

Vanderdecken was of good family; he had as we know some knowledge of

the classics, he spoke easily and well, there was no hesitation or

_mauvaise honte_ about the man; though his dress was rough and perhaps

ill-fitted to the brilliant scene, he bore himself with proper pride.

As the late Lord Buscoe said to one who expostulated with him for

coming to dinner in plus-fours, you cannot disguise a gentleman.

Sylvia and Joe, in their fine and fancy garb, were brought into the

hall by the Lady Ermyntrude and affectionately greeted and kissed by

King Merse. They instantly told him that he must demand the release of

Gorbo, for he had been put in a dungeon.

“By the way, your Majesty,” said King Merse, turning to his brother

monarch, “what about my subject, Gorbo? I hear he is in trouble.”

“You shall see him,” replied the other with a touch of sternness (with

two kings conversing the reader will have sometimes to judge their

identity by the matter of their speech). “Ho there! bring hither that

fellow!”

Metallic sounds caused all to look towards the council chamber where

Gorbo had been left with his guards. He came forward, carrying his

chain with difficulty and occasionally stumbling over it. He looked at

his liege lord with a sheepish smile.

“Hail, Gorbo,” said King Merse, amid a deep silence.

“May your shadow ever be a wide one,” murmured Gorbo.

“You seem to have got tangled up with some iron, Gorbo. What is it this

time?”

Gorbo gave no reply, but only toyed with a link of his chain.

“Let me ask you, our cousin,” said King Kul impressively. “Suppose an

utter stranger were to come into your hall unannounced and hand you one

of the very best with a stout sapling while you were reaching across

your own supper-table, what would you say?”

King Merse thought diligently for a moment; then he shook his head. “I

give it up,” he said. “But,” he added half-unconsciously touching the

hilt of his sword, “I might be able to tell you what I would _do_, if

that is of any use to you.”

“Exactly!” said King Kul; “that is just my point. This subject of yours

did so behave to us. And you can scarcely credit what a stinger he gave

us. I ask you.”

“Well, Gorbo,” said King Merse after a serious pause, “to put it in the

very mildest way, you are not improving. Can you make anything of this

strange case?” he asked of Vanderdecken.

Vanderdecken did not reply in words; he merely grasped his beard and

shook his head slowly from side to side as one who is utterly defeated.

“I suppose,” went on King Merse, “it were too much to expect that the

fellow had some dim shadow of a reason, at the back of what for want of

a better word we must call his brain, for this outrage?”

“Oh, we have found reason enough!” cried King Kul, with a slight

tendency to rave. “He did it, he says, to save these little children

from execution at our hands! These--_these_ whom we were at the moment

stuffing with muffins! Oh----” here his sense of the bitter indignity

overcame him again and he could only articulate words which I prefer to

represent by dashes.

“This is a blow to me,” said King Merse, sadly. “I had hoped that when

I found Gorbo I would also find that his mind had been broadened by

foreign travel; it is said to have that effect. But what hope now?”

“It’s all very well,” said Gorbo sullenly, “but if you’d heard what

Golithos said about the King, and what Mother Meldrum said about him,

perhaps you’d have made a little mistake too. And Baldry said----” here

he stopped suddenly, for Baldry was his sworn friend and he felt that

to go on would not be cricket.

“Baldry!” exclaimed King Merse. “Ah, now the matter is clearing. Tell

me what that reprobate said about me.”

But Gorbo remained silent.

“Bring hither our one-time jester,” said the King to an officer. “I

think, cousin, we may find some extra reason for this matter.”

BALDRY’S SENTENCE

Baldry was brought in, chewing a straw. There were straws sticking in

his hair and more on his clothes. He stood before the King with his

eyes cast down and his hands clasped before him, a dejected figure.

“Thou insolent!” said the King, after regarding him for a moment. “Thou

impertinent one! Think not to trick me by this show of sorrow. Tell me,

have you said aught to this stranger that would lead him to believe me

a tyrant?”

Baldry took the straw from his mouth, dried it carefully and deposited

it within the bosom of his doublet. He placed his hand daintily over

his mouth and coughed a little cough. Then he spoke:

“My liege lord and master, it is true that I did in some sort induce

my dear friend Gorbo to believe you more despotic than is perhaps

the case. But in my defence I must say that I had some good reason

for it, namely, to wit”--here he checked off the items on his

fingers--“Firstly, the idea occurred to me a choice one. Secondly,

it seemed to be full of humour. Thirdly, I was highly amused at it.

Fourthly, it tickled me greatly. Fifthly----”

“Silence me that lewd mouth!” cried the King to the jailor. A kerchief

was hastily whipped round Baldry’s mouth and held while they waited

further orders.

“Listen to my words,” said the King sternly, “for you will hear but few

again. We can pardon much levity in a professional fool, but this more

than reaches the limits of our patience. Go forth from our presence and

from our palace and from our City--and keep on going. Know all,” he

continued, turning to the court, “that Baldry is henceforth exiled from

our dominions.”

Baldry started violently and stared at him as if he could not

comprehend. Then, as the bitter truth dawned upon him, he turned, and

with bowed head, paced slowly forth. But after some four or five steps

he paused, placing his hand upon his heart as if with a sudden pang.

Then, raising his hands aloft with a gesture of despair, he swayed,

and fell at full length on his face, as falls a tree.

There was general consternation, and all rushed forward. One, skilled

in leechcraft, knelt down and, bending his head sideways, listened

carefully. Then he rose. “I cannot hear his heart beat,” he said sadly.

“He is dead.”

[Illustration]

They made way for the King, from whose countenance the stern look had

faded, giving place to one of deep sorrow. He stood looking down at

the prostrate figure and heaved a deep sigh, almost a groan. At length

he spoke--in blank verse, for nothing less could express his bitter

feelings:

“Alas, poor fool! is’t thus that comes the end,

The terminus of all your antic ways?

Could not the fate which spares the grim tom-cat

That yesternight did rack my harmless slumbers,

Making the moonlight tremble with his yells,

Have spared thee too? Can’st ne’er again

Devise thy lightsome jests, thy bonnetings,

Thy traps of booby poised on half-op’d door,

Or juggle with the table furnishings?

No, thou art dead, and I without my fool

Am left to mourn the law inscrutable

That gives us chiefly what we would not have.

The violet withers while the rhubarb thrives,

The buttered slice falls ever upside-down,

The horse we back does seldom find a place,

The horse we back not comes a romping in.

Too late, poor fool, this unavailing woe!

I loved thee more than thou did’st ever know.”

“Then in that case,” said Baldry, turning smartly over on to his back,

“why are you making things so difficult?”

ROYAL CLEMENCY

It was characteristic of Baldry that he always (in seafaring phrase)

sailed pretty close to the wind, and it was lucky for him in this case

that the King’s satisfaction in knowing that he was not dead after all

slightly outbalanced his new rage at finding that not only had he been

tricked, but that he had wasted some rather superior blank verse. But

Baldry dexterously twisted himself out of reach of the King’s itching

foot and fled to where Sylvia and Joe were standing (both rather

perplexed with these happenings) and embraced them with ardour.

“Ah, our cousin of Snerg!” said the King with a mournful smile, “well

has the poet said that beneath a monarch’s crown there is often a sore

head. But now let me recount to you what other reasons this Gorbo of

yours gave for his behaviour. It will take some believing.”

King Merse, after hearing full details of how Gorbo had been cozened

into perpetration of the outrage, gave his opinion that, the man being

the ass he was, it would be best to pass the matter over as an error of

judgment.

“That’s one way of looking at it,” said King Kul rather peevishly. “Of

course it was I who got the stinger, not you. But,” he added with true

nobility, “the quality of mercy is not strained like cabbage. Ho there,

guards! unchain that extraordinary person. He is free.”

Gorbo’s fetters were instantly removed and carried away in a basket.

He murmured some inarticulate thanks to the King and then went over to

his brother Snergs, who were ranged against the wall and who greeted

him with affection mingled with scarcely dissembled mirth. But he was

cheered by the sudden impact of two small bodies; Sylvia and Joe had

flung themselves at him and were hugging him tight.

King Kul watched the scene for a moment with a benevolent smile; then

he turned to King Merse and Vanderdecken.

“Come,” he said, “to my privy chamber, where a stoup of wine and a

mixed biscuit awaits us. The Master of the Buckhounds will see to it

that your men are cared for. Pray mind the step.”

THE NEXT DAY

The next day passed happily and to the contentment of all except Sir

Giles, who instead of walking for hours in the gardens with the Lady

Ermyntrude, as he hoped to do, had to mount and away in order to bring

Golithos and Mother Meldrum up for judgment. He started early and went

off at great speed with his men. Since the job had to be done he would

get it over quickly.

The Snergs and the Dutchmen were well entertained by the townspeople.

They visited some public places, such as the building of Science and

Arts, and were present at the ceremony of unveiling a new horse-trough

in the market-place. A good spread, at which the Mayor presided, was

given to them in the Town Hall.

Sylvia and Joe enjoyed themselves to the full. They went out shopping

with the Lady Ermyntrude, who needed some lining and a piece of narrow

insertion, and they roamed about with Gorbo afterwards and each bought

a little china mug and saucer as a souvenir. They were very happy for

it had been on the whole a most successful and interesting expedition;

though they were to start on the homeward journey on the next day but

one (a Snerg had been sent post haste to let Miss Watkyns know they

were safe) and they would have preferred to stop a little longer, they

were also looking forward to the time when they would be back with the

other children and telling them all about it. And they really wanted to

know what Miss Watkyns and the other ladies would think of it all.

There was a ball that night at the palace. Among those present were

Joe and Sylvia, but only for a short time because the King said they

were too young for dissipation. They went to sleep, soothed by the

distant music of rebecs, psalterys and viols de gamboys. Truly a happy

time.

AND THE DAY AFTER THAT

“Aha!” said King Kul, striking his hands lightly together as he glanced

round the breakfast table, “what good things have we to eat this

morning? I see kidneys--kippers--a dressed ham--pies of various sorts.

Come, our cousin of Snerg, let me recommend the grouse pie.”

“Thank you,” replied King Merse, helping himself to a good deal. “Are

grouse plentiful here?”

“Very plentiful. When you come again we must get up some hawking

parties. Mynheer Vanderdecken, this wine is a good breakfast vintage.

Let me fill your goblet--But where are our little guests? I heard their

merry prattle from my window long ago, when I was having my early

hippocras and sandwich.”

Before anyone could answer, the Lady Ermyntrude came rushing into the

hall holding her skirts some six inches from the ground to facilitate

her movements.

“Sire,” she panted, “the children cannot be found! I left them about an

hour ago in order to powder my--I mean to arrange my coiffure--and they

have gone!”

“Gone where?” exclaimed both monarchs, rising to their feet.

“Alas, I cannot say. The household varlets have searched the gardens

and called to them, but they cannot be found. The guards at the palace

gates have not seen them pass. But they are lost!”

“Tut, tut!” said King Kul, “that seems impossible. They are playing

some prank on you. Have you searched the herbaceous borders?”

“Yes, sire, everywhere. But they cannot be found.”

Amid general consternation the Captain of the Gate was sent for and

came on the run, bolting a crust and brushing crumbs from himself.

“Come, come!” said the King angrily, “you must learn to eat in your own

time. We like not this munching in our presence. Now tell me if those

children passed the gates this morning.”

The Captain made an effort and bolted what was left of the crust. “No,

sire,” he replied. “Only serving-men have passed in or out on your

Majesty’s affairs. They and one old man.”

“What manner of old man?”

“Of very indifferent manner, sire. He came early this morning to offer

fat boiling fowls for your Majesty’s kitchen. He had a thin grey beard

and he wore a high peaked hat and a cloak and he rode an ass.”

“That does not help us very much,” remarked the King, pondering deeply.

“Not at all, sire. We were glad to see him pass out, for when he had

sold his fowls he brought forth bagpipes from under his cloak and

played most execrable music. He went out a-riding his ass, with his

feet disposed on his two covered baskets that hung on either side, and

there were none that did not stop their ears as he passed. My own ears

still ding with the fearsome squealing.”

“Enough of this old man and your ears,” said the King impatiently. “Now

let my soldiers search----”

He was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Gorbo, who darted out

from the throng and flung out his arms before him.

“It’s Mother Meldrum!” he cried, “The old man was Mother Meldrum! She’s

got them after all!”

[Illustration]

“Got them _where_?” roared the King and a few other people.

“In the baskets! She popped them in the baskets and played bagpipes so

that people wouldn’t hear them screaming! Oh!”--here he flung his cap

on the ground and jumped on it and tore his hair.

There was a momentary silence of astonishment. That Gorbo, already

widely known in these parts as the prize fool of the strange race of

Snergs, should find the solution of the mystery came as a bit of a

shock. King Merse stared at him as if he were experiencing something of

a miracle.

[Illustration]

“He is right,” exclaimed King Kul. “If this toss-pot and muncher had

had the sense to see what is plain to us all” (he forgot that he hadn’t

seen it himself until it was shouted at him) “those children would not

be now in the power of that wretch. Let no one rest until they are

found, or avenged--Ha, here comes one who may help us,” he went on.

“Welcome back, Sir Giles. Have you any news?”

“Ay, your Majesty, lots,” replied that capable knight, clanking up the

hall. “But I have not found Golithos. His tower is empty except for

miscellaneous rubbish, and the doors swing idly in the wind. He has

flown.” His voice was hoarse with weariness and his mail showed signs

of hard travel.

“Flown, has he? And Mother Meldrum?”

“She also has flown--probably on a broomstick. Her house is dismantled

and deserted, and doubtless the foul things of the haunted woods will

hold their revels there to-night. Ugh!” He shuddered, for though he was

dauntless where a reasonable number of caitiffs were concerned he had

no taste for the supernatural.

“Strange,” said the King musingly. “The plot thickens--But you are

weary, Sir Giles. Pray seat yourself beside us while we consider the

matter.”

“Thanks, sire, but I prefer standing. I have sat some score of hours or

more.”

“I fear you will have to sit some more, good knight, for you must mount

and lead your men again. Come, sirs, let us consider what course we are

now to take.”

CAPTIVES AGAIN

In a wood of scattered and stunted trees many miles from Banrive,

Mother Meldrum was urging on her heavily loaded ass with the assistance

of a cudgel. Beside her strode the gigantic form of Golithos, with a

big bundle tied to his shoulders and carrying his mighty axe. There

was a kind of horrible contentment about the two as they went along

in silence only broken by an occasional chuckle from Golithos and the

thumping of the cudgel as it came down on the animal’s ribs. Round

about them walked seven large black cats.

“We can take it a bit easier now,” said Mother Meldrum at length. She

had taken off her cloak and in her man’s dress and with the false beard

removed she looked a particularly hideous figure; the beard had at

least hidden part of her face. “It’s not far now to the barren rocks

and nobody ever comes as near to them as this. Everything’s going very

nicely.”

“Yes, isn’t it,” he said. “Do you know I got very worried, waiting

outside the town with your bundles and the cats. I thought you’d never

come. I was afraid something had happened and you couldn’t find the

little ones.”

“That’s because you’re a fool,” she said with her usual candour. “I got

them almost at once, as I knew I would. Don’t you start complaining

about me!”

“No, of course not. But the cats worried me so much--snarling and

rolling about and getting their ropes entangled. And when I tried to

sort them out they simply bit pieces out of me. Look at my hands.”

“Glad they did; I wish they’d done more to you. You lost one of my

cats, too, you lout! If it doesn’t come along soon, I’ll remember it

when we settle up.”

“But it really wasn’t my fault,” he said quickly. “I just untied it a

moment to disentangle it and it clawed me and bolted off. It’ll come

along all right.”

“There’ll be trouble for you if it doesn’t. Now let’s stop a bit and

see how things are.”

“Yes, let’s,” said Golithos eagerly.

“You keep away! No touching.” She lifted up the lid of one of the

baskets on the ass and untied the neck of a coarse sack within. “Aha,

you’re tired of grizzling now, are you? That’s a good thing for you.”

The head of Joe came out and stared at her, white and horrified.

“Get out and walk!” she ordered. “No, wait a bit: I’ll have to tie your

hands behind you.”

She tied him up and lashed the rope to the huge bundle that formed

the principal load of the ass. Then she went to the other basket and

liberated Sylvia.

Poor Sylvia’s eyes were swollen with weeping and her face showed a

stunned horror. She shook with fear as she got out, her pretty silk

dress with the golden flowers and bees all crumpled and stained with

the filthy sack she had been tied in, and looked up in the old witch’s

face.

“Keep apart,” she shouted, for Joe had got close to Sylvia to give her

what consolation he could, which was not very much. “One on each side.

Now march!”

They started off again, Joe and Sylvia walking in a dazed way on either

side of her, Golithos coming behind with his load and leading the ass,

and the cats surging about them like a pack of grim black hounds.

“You were clever to get them, the way you did,” said Golithos, to put

her in a good humour. “You seem to manage everything the way you want

it.”

“Oh, I’m clever enough. I just went in with my half-dozen fat hens

and offered them for next to nothing, and I talked to the fat old

cook about things in general until I saw these brats coming along and

looking for something new. They got something new all right enough. I

just gave them good morning and asked them if they knew of a nice quiet

place in the garden where I could turn a little rabbit loose, because

it was so cruel to keep a rabbit cooped up and it’d be much happier in

the garden. And they took me to very nice quiet place, all thick bushes

and the like. Ho, ho, ho! I had them twisted up in two sacks before

they could begin to think what was happening. And by the time they’d

started to yell I had them in the baskets and hopped on top of the ass

and started the bagpipes. And some gardeners and people came running

up and out but I went a-galloping and blowing the pipes and all they

wanted was to see the last of me. And out in the street some stared at

me and some pitched carrots and things at me, but I didn’t stop blowing

until I was clear out of Banrive. Ho, ho, ho!”

[Illustration]

Golithos laughed hideously and the children cowered as they stumbled

along. Mother Meldrum jerked furiously at the ropes that held them and

told them to step out smartly if they didn’t want some extra trouble.

“Don’t make them walk too fast,” said Golithos. “Poor things, it won’t

do to get them too tired! Children _do_ get thin so easily,” he added

with a touch of pathos.

“They’ll walk and you’ll walk and I’ll walk just as long as it suits

me!” she shouted with one of her sudden changes to fury.

“Oh, yes, of course,” he said hastily. “I was merely suggesting----”

“Well, don’t. You’ve got your job to attend to before you need worry

whether they’re thin or fat. As soon as we get beyond the barren rocks

you’re finished with them until you’ve done your job.”

“Oh, I’ll do it all right,” he said, twirling his gigantic axe. “The

sight of them has done me ever so much good. I’ll go back and just hide

near Banrive until I get my chance. It won’t take long because you tell

me the King goes out hawking every other day or so and it won’t be at

all difficult to creep up when he’s sitting on his fat old horse and

staring up in the sky. I’ll have him hacked to bits in no time. And

if any twenty of his men come up I’ll cut them all down, as I used to

do in the fine old days.” He roared with laughter and made the air

whistle as he swung the axe over his head.

“At last I’m getting part of what I want,” said Mother Meldrum as she

watched him approvingly. “Only part, because there’s others in the

town I’m going to get square with. Wait till we’re comfortably settled

beyond the barren rocks and we’ll be able to do quite a nice lot of

damage one way and another. When they find their little children

disappearing every now and then they’ll wish they’d left me alone in my

comfortable little town business and not got the King to turn me out.”

Golithos did an ungainly dance of joy at the mention of a good supply

of his natural food. “I suppose,” he said when his transports had

calmed down a little, “there’s no chance of their finding the way

through the rocks?”

“Not a bit of chance. The way through is by a hole just near the top of

the big cliff, and even if they found the hole they’d lose their way

in two minutes if they tried to follow the road. There’s fifty little

tunnels branching in all directions and I’m the only one who knows

the right one. Besides, they wouldn’t dare to follow us in: there’s

other things there besides bats and darkness. No, we’ll be comfortable

enough. There’s an old tower which you can take for your very own, and

there’s a little house in the trees that will just suit me and I’ll

settle down very comfortably with my cats.”

They trudged on in contented silence for a time. Sylvia and Joe were,

luckily for them in one way, too stupefied with horror to realize the

hideous fate that had come upon them and they went on as well as they

could, Mother Meldrum occasionally hinting by a ferocious pick at the

ropes that they were not walking fast enough.

THE BARREN ROCKS

Half an hour later Mother Meldrum gave a grunt of satisfaction. “Here

we are at last,” she said. “Look up, little dears, and see where you’re

going to climb to.”

They had passed out of the thicker part of the stunted trees into an

open space, and the shuddering children saw before them a deep ravine

of dry and jagged rocks. On the farther side the walls rose in a cliff

which, though not very much higher than they were standing, was very

precipitous and evidently difficult to climb for anyone who did not

know the path. Nowhere about the rocks was there any sign of life or

vegetation. It was a new strange land on which a blight had fallen; a

land over which a dull horror seemed to brood.

“We’ll go down a nice little path I know of,” said Mother Meldrum, with

a deep chuckle, “and then we’ll go up a nice little path I know of. And

close to the top is a nice little tunnel I know of, and we’ll go ever

so far through it until we come to a nice little house I know of. _Now_

don’t you wish you hadn’t run away from dear old Mother----”

She stopped and turned round and stared. Golithos, who had been

grinning savagely at her words, stopped and looked quickly in the same

direction.

“I thought I heard Gubbins,” she said (Gubbins was the missing cat).

“Oh, I’m so glad!” he said, “I wouldn’t have liked you to lose him. He

must have caught us up. Ah, there he is! I thought he wouldn’t be long

in finding us.”

“Yes, you fool!” snarled the old woman, choking with rage. “And see

who’s coming after him! This comes of trusting a lubber like you!”

“It’s that Snerg again,” said Golithos uneasily.

The children’s hearts gave a bound of joy and hope. A long way off,

and far beyond the black cat that came trotting up, they saw a little

figure running. It was Gorbo, and the dead weight of terror seemed to

lift from them at the sight.

“I don’t seem able to shake him off somehow,” went on Golithos, not

at all with the air of a man who was ready to do great deeds. “But he

hasn’t seen us yet because we’re hidden by these trees. Let’s get into

the thick part and hide until he comes up and then I’ll jump out and

cut him down before he can shout.”

“Come along, you brats, or I’ll murder you here!” shouted Mother

Meldrum.

She dragged fiercely at the ropes and they had to follow her into the

trees. Golithos hauled on the leading rope of the ass, and the ass, as

its nature taught it to do, hauled back. With a howl of rage he took a

firmer grip of the rope and dragged the ass a few feet. Then the rope

snapped and the animal turned and trotted back on the path they had

come.

“Now you’ve done it, you great lout!” screamed Mother Meldrum. “Now

he’ll know we’re here! Oh, I’ll settle accounts with you, Golithos,

once we’re out of this!”

“But there’s no great harm done,” pleaded Golithos. “He’ll come along

looking for us just the same. Oh, please keep quiet, he may be coming

along now. If he hears us I won’t be able to jump out on him!”

The old woman controlled herself sufficiently to keep silent, though

her face was livid with rage. She dragged the children into a thicker

part of the trees and pushed them over and crouched down by them,

surrounded by her cats, who stopped still at an order from her and lay

quiet on the ground. Golithos stooped behind a tree with his axe ready.

Gubbins, the missing cat, came trotting up. They could see him stop

and sniff about. Then he looked back invitingly and saying “Me-reow!

me-reow!” in a high and strong voice, came purring in among the trees

and greeted his mistress and his brother cats. Mother Meldrum silenced

him with a clump on the head and he too crouched down.

[Illustration]

There was a dead silence for a minute or two. Then suddenly the witch

gave a little grunt, for Gorbo came into view, walking with a silent

tread and peering in all directions, with an arrow fitted to his bow.

HOW GORBO FOUND THE WAY

The measures taken by King Kul to search for the children would

have, by themselves, resulted in failure and a tragedy. Though of

an estimable character he was not remarkable for handling difficult

situations, especially those which for want of a better term we must

call matters of police. His dominion had been peaceable so long that he

had lost the knack of it; besides, his subjects, an amiable but rather

muddle-headed offshoot of mediæval days, were of little assistance in

the case, for no one could give information as to the road taken by the

alleged old man with the ass and big baskets and bagpipes. The knights

too--with the exception of Sir Giles, who had plenty of ginger in him

(which is why he had secured the prettiest girl at court)--were rather

lacking in practice owing to the decay of dragons, caitiffs, and other

undesirable inhabitants, and they rather played at chivalrous doings

than took any active interest in them. Consequently, though troops

were sent searching in all directions, they went without definite

instructions, and they merely wandered about, putting innocent people

through severe cross-examinations, inspecting cock-lofts in lonely

but peaceful farmhouses, and generally making themselves thoroughly

disliked without obtaining any useful hints.

Sir Giles, however, had hit on an idea which had some reason at the

back of it. The far western border of the land was some half-day’s ride

away and the country beyond, though no one knew anything definite about

it, had a very unsavoury reputation. It was generally considered to be

the part where the dragons and caitiffs and others had gone during the

past few centuries, and he considered it probable that Mother Meldrum

and Golithos had selected it as a suitable spot for their future home;

therefore he had taken his squire and ten picked men and gone there at

full speed. The idea, as I have said, was on the whole a good one. The

one reason against its being a successful one was that Mother Meldrum

and Golithos had gone in the opposite direction.

While King Kul was discussing the situation and making suggestions,

King Merse rushed off with Gorbo and collected his men, and

Vanderdecken joined them with his immediately afterwards. But they,

like the others, had little notion of which would be the best direction

to take until Gorbo gave them a second shock by making a really

practical suggestion.

While the men were formed up and waiting for orders, with King Merse

and Vanderdecken at their wits’ end to know what orders to give, Gorbo

suddenly ran off and peered between the legs of some citizens who

formed a little crowd near the ancient Cloth Hall. The citizens were

looking at a cat of exceeding bigness and blackness which was engaged

with a bone. There were none present who had visited Mother Meldrum

professionally so no one recognized this as one of her cats; they were

merely wondering at its appearance, the cats of Banrive being as a rule

small and either fawn colour or grey with stripes.

Gorbo acted with a promptness inspired by his grief and his knowledge

that time was flying. He rushed to a fish stall and demanded a pound

of sprats on the King’s affairs and a straw-bag to put them in. He

returned and, pushing his way through the crowd, offered the animal a

sprat. It took it with a fierce growl and ate it, and then looked up

hopefully for more. Gorbo did not give it another yet but patted and

stroked it instead, allowing it to sniff at the bag.

“Did ums old cats want um sprats?” he said soothingly. “Then um good

old cats must work for um sprats.”

The animal, though evidently intelligent above its kind, could not of

course wholly understand. It got easily as far as understanding that

this small man (whom it remembered seeing before) was one who had

control of fish in a bag, and he set up a roaring purr and rubbed hard

against him in the hope that he would do the decent thing and give him

another.

Gorbo held out another sprat and walked backwards towards his brother

Snergs, the cat following.

“See!” he said to King Merse; “one of Mother Meldrum’s cats! Perhaps it

can lead us to her.”

King Merse stared at him in wonder at his penetration. Vanderdecken

smote Gorbo on the shoulder. “This man of yours is improving,” he said.

“We can but try it.”

“We will,” said the King. “Go ahead, Gorbo, with your cat, and we will

follow some way behind.”

The inhabitants were ordered to clear the road and Gorbo, after giving

a third sprat for encouragement, walked towards the town-gate. The

cat followed him, chewing and growling. On arriving at a clear space

beyond the walls Gorbo urged it by gestures to take the road. After a

few moments it looked about and sniffed the ground; went on a bit and

sniffed again. Gorbo looked on anxiously.

“Home to mother then!” he said, holding up his bag. “Home to other old

black cats.”

The animal turned and looked at him and then, giving a terrific wail,

started off at a trot. Gorbo followed and the cat, merely stopping an

instant to make sure that the bag of fish was coming close behind, went

on down a narrow trail that led to some woods.

It went steadily on and Gorbo trotted steadily behind it. And a quarter

of a mile or so behind them came the soft padding footsteps of the

Snergs and the clumping of the Dutchmen’s sea-boots as they followed at

the double.

THE REFORM OF GOLITHOS

As Gorbo appeared in the open space beyond the trees, Mother Meldrum

shook her fist fiercely at Golithos to encourage him, and for an

instant had her attention taken away from the children. But this

instant was enough for Joe, who had been working his hands loose from

the rope (he had learned rope tricks in his circus life), and who now

had them free. He quickly untied Sylvia’s hands and then very gently

helped her to her feet. “Run,” he whispered close to her ear. And with

a bound they were off, Joe holding her hand with a tight grip and

hauling her along through the trees.

They heard a savage yell from behind them; but they were out in the

open and running up to Gorbo, who sprang forward to meet them with a

shout.

“Hide in the trees!” screamed Joe. “There’s Golithos coming!”

Gorbo jumped and looked quickly round. Then in an instant he sprang

with them into the shade of the trees on the other side of the open

space. He gave a little sound of wonder and joy, something like a sob,

and then faced round, again with his bow held ready. “Lie down and

hide,” he said, without turning his head.

“But there’s Golithos there!” wailed Sylvia. “Let’s run, Gorbo!”

“Not me,” said Gorbo. “Just lie quiet.”

There was a dead silence for a time. Then they heard the voice of

Golithos hailing from the opposite side of the open spot.

“Is that you, Gorbo?” he called.

“It’s me,” replied Gorbo.

“Look here,” went on the voice, “you go away and I’ll let you keep the

little ones. There!”

“Thanks,” said Gorbo.

“Oh, but do be reasonable. Let’s talk it over quietly; it’s no good

being unfriendly. Just come out in the open and we’ll talk it over.”

“All right,” said Gorbo. “You come too.” He walked to the edge of the

trees and stood looking across at the other side.

“But I can’t see you,” said Golithos. “You must really show some

confidence in me, and then I’ll come.”

“Will this suit you?” Gorbo walked out some half-dozen steps.

“Yes, that’s better, Gorbo. You see I don’t want to harm you.” (From

their hiding-place the children could hear him blundering through the

bushes and twigs.) “I’ve always rather liked you and if we can just

talk over matters----”

With a rush and roar he sprang out, his mighty axe swung up high.

_Whang._

Golithos stopped his rush within six feet of Gorbo and stood swaying.

His axe fell crashing to the ground.

_Whang--Whang._

Golithos toppled and fell headlong with a thump that shook the ground.

Three arrows stuck out from behind his head.

[Illustration]

MOTHER MELDRUM GOES

The children flung themselves at Gorbo and hugged him, and Sylvia was

shaking with sobs. He squeezed them to him for just one instant and

then jumped away. “Where’s Mother Meldrum?” he said quickly.

“She’s in there,” replied Joe, pointing across.

Gorbo crept up cautiously, looking about him as he went. Suddenly he

gave an exclamation. “Look!” he cried, pointing to the opposite side of

the ravine.

The old witch was climbing, climbing up the rocks, and behind her

came the black cats. Gorbo rushed to the edge of the ravine and shot.

The arrow fell short. He shot again and again, but it was useless;

the distance was too great for a bow. And Mother Meldrum climbed and

climbed, with an agility and strength that appeared miraculous.

Gorbo turned again, for there was a mighty trampling behind him. Up

came the Snergs and the Dutch seamen, headed by their leaders. The

children and fallen body of Golithos took but an instant of their

attention for Gorbo shouted that Mother Meldrum was escaping.

The Snergs ranged along the edge of the ravine and shot thick and fast

so that the air was full of arrows, but the old witch was well out of

range and she knew it. She had reached a flat part near the summit of

the cliff, and the tunnel that led through the barren rocks was close

at hand. With a shrill screaming laugh that sounded horridly across the

ravine she danced a fantastic dance of triumph, something between an

Irish jig and a coranto. O hideous sight!

But little did this hag of mediæval days know of the strides of

science. The voice of Vanderdecken (who had so wisely trained his

seamen in the part) rang out:

“Musketeers, advance! Handle your muskets! Cock your muskets! Aim your

muskets! _Fire!_ Recover your muskets!”

At the word “_Fire_,” three-and-thirty shots shook the air and echoed

from the rocky crags. A dark cloud of smoke hung over the scene.

The smoke drifted away.

“Where,” said King Merse, “is Mother Meldrum?”

Vanderdecken handed him his telescope. “There is something like bits of

rags sticking on the rocks,” he said. “And I think I can see a hand

hanging over the edge of the cliff. See what you can make of it.”

“Yes,” agreed King Merse as he looked, “it is undoubtedly as you say.

That is Mother Meldrum--or part of her.”

Thus it was. When three-and-thirty muskets of the kind made in

Vanderdecken’s day, loaded with double bullets and a half handful of

buckshot, are fired simultaneously by expert marksmen at the same

target the result is effective. Mother Meldrum had been blown to bits.

ALL TROUBLES OVER

There was a good deal of ringing of bells at Banrive when the joyous

band of Snergs and Dutchmen arrived with the children safe and sound,

and it was known that Golithos and Mother Meldrum had passed away.

The ass had been found trying to rub its load off against a tree, and

the Snergs had untied the bundles and selected whatever there was of

value in them and thrown the rest away. Then they put Joe and Sylvia on

the ass and started back, singing sea chanties which the Dutchmen had

taught them. Sylvia soon got over the worst of her shock, and though

she was a good deal worried about the crumpled and dirty state of her

pretty new dress, she was able in time to join modestly in the chorus.

Joe did not have so much shock to get over because he was the sort that

does not trouble about troubles that are past and he sang lustily.

Gorbo was given the place of honour in front and he came along with

a light step although he was carrying Golithos’ enormous axe, which

was his according to the rules of war. He was the subject of a good

deal of jovial badinage on account of the cat Gubbins, which had not

gone to join its brother cats (now doubtless great hunters in the land

of barren rocks) but had attached itself to him. It may have been

that it liked Gorbo’s cast of countenance or it may have been that it

considered a man with a bag of fish something to stay by, but I leave

this for naturalists to decide; all I know is that it went ahead of

him, with its tail well up, stepping rather in the manner of goats

belonging to certain British regiments.

King Kul embraced the children, almost with tears, and with his own

hands gave Sylvia the puppy, which had been wandering disconsolately

about looking for them. He made a speech thanking the Snergs and the

seamen for their great service in his dominions. When King Merse

told him that Gorbo had slain Golithos single-handed he merely said,

“Indeed? And very creditable of him--considering.” He could never quite

overcome his dislike of Gorbo.

But nobler feelings prevailed. He went to his privy-chambers and

rummaged in a little chest of drawers. Returning to the hall he bade

Gorbo approach and kneel.

“By this,” he said, placing round his neck a cherry-coloured ribbon

with a medallion, “I make you a Companion of the Order of Errant

Tinkers. See that you wear it worthily.”

Amid a murmur of applause the blushing Gorbo rose and thanked him

gratefully and retired backwards. He was filled with a pride and joy

that left him dizzy. At last it was officially recognized that he had

escaped from the reproach of being the biggest fool of the race of

Snergs. Sylvia and Joe ran to him and demanded to see. The medallion

was a tasteful thing, representing a man in full armour mending a

saucepan (Sir Bors, a tinker knighted on the field of battle). The

order was an ancient one and Gorbo had full reason to be proud. It

carried with it the freedom of the City and the right to remove his

boots (if they hurt him) in the presence of the King.

The Lady Ermyntrude took charge of the children and told them to change

into their Watkyns Bay uniforms (which had been washed and ironed)

while their new clothes were sent to the dry cleaners. These were

expeditious people and they promised to have them restored to their

original beauty by noon on the following day; to the great joy of

Sylvia, who loved her dress with the golden bees.

It was a happy time for all. Sir Giles returned in a very peevish frame

of mind at the ill-success of his journey, but when he heard that the

children had been brought safely back he came clashing in and embraced

them with ardour. He said that perchance now they would let him look

forward to a good night’s rest. He changed from his travel-stained

armour into a suit of murrey-coloured velvet in which he looked rather

well, and he sat with the Lady Ermyntrude behind some curtains and

held her hand, in spite of her warnings that people would see. Baldry

(who I fear will never learn) tried to promote the gaiety of courts by

creeping behind him and smiting him on the head with his bladder stick;

but he had to flee from the palace and hide for the rest of the day,

since the King refused to grant him protection, saying: “Now perhaps

you’ll think before acting.”

BACK ACROSS THE RIVER

Another day passed and then, at an early hour, the homeward journey was

begun. Cheerful farewells were exchanged and amid the shouts of the

populace the Expeditionary Force passed out of the town-gate which they

had entered with such doubtful anticipations a few days before, with

Joe and Sylvia riding on small ponies (wearing their fancy clothes)

and two sumpter-mules in the charge of responsible churls. One mule

was laden with presents from King Kul for the royal house of Snerg and

other presents for Miss Watkyns and her staff (including some curiously

wrought silver cups and an antique carved unicorn’s horn suitable for a

centre-piece), and the second mule bore two barrels of special wine for

Vanderdecken.

King Kul promised to visit the Snergs if something in the way of a

bridge could be made across the deep river, and Vanderdecken said he

would give thought to the matter and devise a substantial swinging

bridge that would not wobble too much.

They stayed for the night at the comfortable little castle of the Lord

of the King’s Marches, who was at home when they arrived and who, they

found, was an agreeable man though with a slight touch of pomposity,

like his steward. He accepted apologies for their former invasion of

his stronghold and occupation of his best beds, and was quite nice

about it, telling them that he appreciated the urgency of the case and

they were heartily welcome. He seemed on the whole rather relieved

to find his job gone. Throughout a long life he had been (nominally)

guarding the border against a chance attack of Snergs, and now they

had proved to be a good-natured and friendly people and he might have

just as well been attending to other matters. He said that in future he

would devote his time to gardening, for which he had a passion.

They bade him farewell in the morning and in a few hours were on the

precipitous cliff that overhung the river, where they were greeted with

great joy by the band of Snergs who had been left there to prevent any

interference with the rope. They had made a little fort with a trench

round it and they had sentries posted in the proper way. King Merse

gave them a word or two of soldierly praise.

Sylvia was sent across with Tiger in a large basket, which the seamen

rigged up in the manner of life-saving devices, and arrived safely,

though rather giddy and frightened owing to the terrific height over

which she had passed. Joe declined to go in the basket and jerked

himself across the rope at great speed, as did the Snergs and Dutchmen.

The presents were then put in the basket and hauled across, and then

came the two barrels of wine. Vanderdecken superintended the lashing

up of these himself as he said he wasn’t going to take any silly risks

with them. Gorbo swarmed over (amid cheers and laughter) with the cat

clinging to his person, because they could not induce it to go in the

basket.

BACK TO THE TOWN

It was only a league or a bit more to the town, where the news had

already arrived. As the children drew near they noticed three figures

conspicuous for their height among the small Snergs. Miss Watkyns,

together with the Misses Scadging and Gribblestone, had come on good

steady bears on the previous day to meet them, and there they had

heard for the first time of their terrible final adventure.

When they saw the children coming along in their beautiful costumes

of a long bygone age, they burst into weeping. This, though something

in accord with the character of two of these ladies, came rather as a

surprise from Miss Watkyns, who loathed display of sentiment. But she

did not weep much. With a stern word to the others to have done with

sloppiness she asked both children whether they were, or were not,

thoroughly ashamed of themselves. It occurred to both Sylvia and Joe

at this point that perhaps they ought to be, and they said they were

ashamed. I believe this to be true, though most of the feeling wore off

in ten minutes.

It is almost unnecessary to say that this was the occasion for a feast,

and it must be noted that Gorbo no longer sat in the suburbs but was

only seven places down from the King. In addition to the Order of

Errant Tinkers (regarded rather enviously by many present) a brazen

nutmeg glittered upon his breast, for King Merse felt that he had

fairly earned it.

BACK TO WATKYNS BAY

It occurs to me here that there is some difficulty in proving a

really useful moral from this tale, although I have almost boastfully

referred to it as coming in due course for the instruction of my

younger readers. For however reprehensible the children were in their

disobedience and irresponsibility it cannot be denied that the general

results of their conduct were beneficial. They were instrumental in

bringing a swift finish to two persons who constituted a serious menace

to the public. They had brought about the establishment of friendly

relations between two countries, and removed doubts that had existed

for centuries. Lastly, they had returned magnificently dressed and

bearing expensive gifts. So perhaps the only definite moral that can

be deduced is, if you by any chance meet an ogre who claims to be

reformed, pretend to believe him until you have got a gun and then blow

his head off at the first opportunity.

[Illustration]

On their arrival at Watkyns Bay the other children crowded round Sylvia

and Joe with cries of delight and admiration, for nothing more gorgeous

had been seen even in a picture-book, and there was at this point some

danger of the swollen-headedness which Miss Watkyns had dreaded. But

she soon put it right by ordering them both to change into their plain

but serviceable two-piece garments, and stating that the others should

be kept for very special occasions, such as fancy-dress affairs. This,

by the way, led to the institution of fancy-dress dances and caused a

great deal of extra needlework and ironing.

Sylvia and Joe were very glad to get back to their little cots with the

hop mattresses, and when at last they dropped off to sleep (very late,

for there was a good deal of whispering because the other children

wanted to hear more) lulled by the distant breaking of the sea and the

light rubbing of cinnamon bears against the fence without, they felt

very peaceful and happy and resolved to be really good for a reasonably

long time.

TO FINISH UP

Vanderdecken set to work and made a neat swinging bridge, light but

strong, across the deep river, and King Kul made a visit to the Snergs

and spent two days at Watkyns Bay. He distributed the prizes at the

term end, and made one of those speeches about even little children

having their responsibilities. Invitations had been sent to Joe and

Sylvia and six other children to attend the wedding of Sir Giles and

Lady Ermyntrude, but Miss Watkyns thanked His Majesty deeply and said

she thought it inadvisable for them to go, as tending to unsettle their

minds. She sent a wedding-present of a dainty tortoise-shell toilet and

manicure-set, and the bride wrote to her on a piece of parchment that

she considered it the most charming of all her presents. It was really

good; it had been bought in Bond Street, at an expensive shop. Baldry

overdid it at last at the wedding and got seven days. He had buttered

the steps of the palace hall.

Gorbo is passing the time quite nicely, occasionally doing a job of

work but more often resting. Gubbins, the black cat, sticks close to

him and travels with him everywhere. It has great ability for catching

game, such as birds and young rabbits and the like, and has learned to

retrieve quite well, so Gorbo has his hunting cat like the Egyptian

kings of old. He goes now and then to visit at Banrive and see what new

trouble Baldry has got into, and to pay his respects to the King. He

never fails to say, “Oh, this corn of mine!” and pulls off one boot.

The door in the region of twisted trees and the one on the other side

were built up with masonry. It was agreed that though Gorbo and the

children found enormous supplies of mushrooms in the cavern, there was

a nasty flavour of magic about the place and it was as well to leave

it alone. I never heard what happened in the dark woods after Mother

Meldrum had gone and the bats and other grisly things had it all to

themselves, because no one, I believe, ever went there, which shows

sense.

The knight Sir Percival gave up chivalrous doings on the day that he

had the adventure at the castle. He did not slacken his anxious pace

until he was back at his own little moated grange, and there he hung

his armour and lance over the fireplace in the hall and decided to live

quietly, and if he could not get a wife except by fighting for her,

to go without. He went in for breeding a superior kind of pig and did

rather well at it, taking several prizes.

Vanderdecken and his men make special efforts every now and then to

clean up the old ship for her voyage home; but there is so much to do,

what with weeds and barnacles and the gear having to be rove afresh and

so forth, that they generally get tired of it after a short spell and

say to the effect that it is no good overworking and it would be best

to go for a day or two’s hunting with the Snergs. It is my belief that

they never will go away. And there is no particular reason why they

should; things are very well as they are.

[Illustration]

There is little more to tell now. It is possible that Joe and Sylvia

may be sent to England if suitable new parents can be found for

them, this being the usual thing after some years with the Society

(but not of course years in the ordinary way), but I don’t know if

anything definite has been done in the matter. It is my opinion

that Miss Watkyns will not let them go for a long time because they

certainly keep the place lively. She tried to make them have a sense of

responsibility by giving them charge of a new arrival, a little girl

who was very thin and weepy, but the result was she became a riotous

handful and broke a window for fun.

Tiger is doing well, though he had a touch of distemper last August.

But nothing serious.

Lack of space prevents me from going into details of costs, etc., of

the S.R.S.C., which is to be regretted as I am sure they would prove of

absorbing interest to my more serious readers. I will therefore merely

state that the Society is flourishing and on a sound financial basis,

and that Miss Watkyns and the other ladies have an immense amount of

work to do, which keeps them fit, sundry improvements of buildings and

extensions having been put in hand at Watkyns Bay. The children go on

happily year after year, slowly increasing in numbers as fresh cases

arrive, and they splash about in the sea and play their various games

and roam the woods and fleet the time carelessly as they did in the

golden world.

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY

THE EDINBURGH PRESS, 9 AND 11 YOUNG STREET, EDINBURGH

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

- Clear typos and wrong punctuation were corrected.

- In the chapter “_Dinner with a Witch_” there is a passage that’s

says “There’s about ten thousand of the real ones to one of the

others.” Based on context, the intention may have been “There’s about

ten thousand of the spurious ones to one of the others.” but the

original has been retained.

- This book has several illustrations, some in the middle of

paragraphs. To improve readability, these have been moved to either

before or after the paragraph they occur.