WILL O'DREAMS REPORTS A DISCOVERY
We have seen how time passed in the castle where Everychild and his
companions had come to dwell. Now let us see what followed.
On a beautiful summer day Everychild and the Sleeping Beauty sat in the
great room of the golden furniture and the fire place and the alcove.
They occupied two little golden chairs near the middle of the room.
They were rocking placidly and saying nothing to each other. Now they
rocked backward and forward together, and again they rocked quite
contrariwise.
And what have we here? Close to the Sleeping Beauty there was a tiny
cradle, all of gold. And in it--well, you could see tresses of
wonderful golden hair, and the most marvelous blue eyes which would
open and shut, and a complexion which was simply perfect. Just now the
eyes were closed.
At a little distance from them there was a spectacle most beautiful to
behold. This was afforded by the Masked Lady and the task in which she
was engaged. She stood near an immense open window, beside the most
beautiful dove-cote ever seen. It was silver and green, topping a
pillar of gold. It had several compartments, all containing pure white
doves. These were engaged in bringing or carrying messages. At
intervals doves entered the open window and perched on the Masked
Lady's arms. These were placed in the cote and others were removed
from the cote and carried to the window, from which they flew away and
disappeared.
While the Masked Lady was engaged in this task it was to be noted that
there was a very sad expression in her eyes. She was turning over
certain things in her mind.
The truth is that Everychild had been married just a year, and she was
thinking how it would be necessary before long for him to be conducted
to the grim Mountain of Reality. She knew that this was a very
terrible experience, or that it would seem so just at first; and that
is why there was a sad expression in her eyes. She knew very well,
however, that the matter could not be put off very much longer.
Indeed, she had been able to detect an occasional shadow in
Everychild's eyes which proved that he was already beginning to see the
formidable Mountain of Reality in the distance. I should also explain
that the messages she was sending and receiving with the aid of the
white doves all had a bearing upon the plan she had in mind of taking
Everychild, ere long, upon the most difficult journey he was ever to
make.
Although silence reigned in the room, there was the murmur of
children's voices in the distance, occasionally rising to a joyous
shout. The children were clearly at play in some invisible court; and
when their cries were particularly joyous, Everychild and the Sleeping
Beauty glanced at each other and smiled indulgently.
At length the voices of the children became inaudible; and a moment
later Cinderella entered the room. She stood an instant, her hands on
her hips and an almost impatient expression in her eyes; and then she
approached Everychild and the Sleeping Beauty.
Everychild glanced up at her with a slightly patronizing smile. "Well,
Cinderella?" he asked.
She put her hair back rather energetically and exclaimed--"Oh, I'm
bored. That's the honest truth. Those games out there--they _do_ get
so tiresome. And Grettel is such a simpleton, really. She keeps
saying 'Think of something else for us to play, Cinderella--think of
something else.' She never thinks of anything herself. Neither does
Hansel, nor any of them."
She sighed and glanced back the way she had come, and it was to be
noted that the sound of playing had not been resumed.
It was the Sleeping Beauty who replied. "Never mind, Cinderella," she
said. "You know I realize quite well what it is to be bored." She had
spoken gently; and now she smiled with a certain playfulness. "The
prince with the missing slipper will find you soon enough. You've only
to be patient, and the day will come when you'll seldom be bored any
more."
"I don't know, I'm sure," said Cinderella; and with perfect candor she
added, "Aren't _you_ bored? You look it: sitting there as if you
hadn't a single thought in your head."
The Sleeping Beauty laughed. "You dear, foolish thing!" she replied.
"Bored? The idea! I'm perfectly happy. Of course, there are
times . . ." She broke off and meditated, and actually sighed. "Come,
we'll go and look at the goldfish," she added briskly.
They went away together, taking cradle and all. All of a sudden they
seemed as energetic as sparrows. They seemed for the moment really
indifferent to Everychild, who remained in his chair alone.
When they had gone he leaned forward in an elegant yet somewhat
dejected attitude, his hands clasped between his knees. Then he arose,
shrugging his shoulders as if a burden were clinging to them, and
turned toward the Masked Lady.
"What are you doing?" he asked wonderingly.
She set free a fine dove, which immediately disappeared through the
window.
"I am getting ready for a very important journey," she said.
He watched her intently. Presently he said, in a strange, abashed
tone, "You seem a very nice, kind lady, after all!"
She did not reply to this, because a dove came in at that instant and
she busied herself placing it in its compartment in the cote.
He continued to regard her, though he was now studying her face, rather
than taking note of her work with the doves. "Sometimes," he continued
falteringly, "I have a wish to speak to you--I mean, to tell you of
things which I cannot speak of to others."
"I have tried always, Everychild, to be close to you," she said.
For an instant it seemed to him that it would not be difficult at all
to speak to her of what was in his heart. And he said, "You know I--I
am not very happy."
She replied to this with gentle mockery. "Not happy?" she said; "and
yet there are many to play with you, and none to turn away from you
with coldness and indifference--any more."
He became strangely still. What did she mean by that? He had never
told her about his childhood; he had never mentioned his parents to
her. Whom could she be, that she should know so many things without
having to be told? Or was she speaking only of the present, without
reference to the past?
"My playmates are all friendly," he said; "but you know I have come far
from home . . ."
When he faltered she added, "But have you found what you started out to
find?"
He was a little embarrassed. "What I started out to find?" he echoed.
"I don't seem to remember----"
"You know you started out to find the truth," she said.
He nodded. "So I did," he declared. "But so many things have
happened, especially since I found the Sleeping Beauty, and it's been
so nice, most of the time . . ."
"Still, you shouldn't give up, you know," she said. "Maybe that's the
reason why you're not quite happy--because you haven't found the truth."
He sighed heavily. She hadn't comforted him, after all. And somehow
he could not tell her that what ailed him was that he was heartsick to
see his parents again. He remembered the pretty sitting room at home,
and the way his father and mother used to look; and it seemed to him
that if he could go back they would perhaps be happy to see him. But
he could not speak of all this to the Masked Lady.
He was greatly amazed when she said in a low tone: "It would be the
same thing over again if you didn't find the truth before you went
back."
It was quite as if he had spoken his thoughts to her aloud!
He drew away from her uneasily; but even as he did so she received
another dove which fluttered in at the window. And as she read the
message it had brought she said musingly--almost as if she were reading
the message, and not speaking to him at all--"_Everychild shall find
his parents again!_"
He felt that he almost loved her when he heard those words--almost, yet
not quite. His heart beat more lightly. He wondered where all the
children had gone. He listened for their voices.
It was then that an outer door opened hurriedly and the giant, Will
o'Dreams, entered the room. Perceiving Everychild, he stood an instant
with clinched hands and uplifted face; and then he cried out in a loud
voice:
"Everychild!"
And Everychild replied, with a little of that kindly condescension
which a married man feels toward a youth, "Well, my boy?"
The giant cried out with elation, "Everychild, I have found her house!"
"You have found her house?" echoed Everychild in perplexity.
"My mother's house! I have seen it again! These many days, while you
have been happy here, I have made countless journeys far and near. I
made a final search. I could not give her up. And now I have found
her house--the house where I dwelt when I was a child!"
This was good news, indeed. Everychild knew how the heart of the giant
had yearned for his mother. He smiled delightedly. "Ah, and so you
have seen her at last!" he cried.
"I have not seen her--no," confessed the giant. "They would not allow
me to enter--they who surround her. I was but one, and they were many;
and they are cruel and relentless. But now that I have found the place
which shelters her I shall not give up until I stand face to face with
her again. Dear Everychild . . ."
"Well?" said Everychild, seeing that his friend found it very hard to
continue.
"I have come now to tell you we must part. I could not remain away,
remembering that I had not bade you farewell. But now I go to watch
for her until she emerges from her door, or until her followers
slumber . . . Oh, the obstacles shall be as nothing. Only rejoice
with me that I am to meet her again at last!"
But Everychild's heart became heavy. "And we must part?" he asked in a
low voice. "Please do not say so! We, who have become like
brothers . . . is there no other way?"
"There is no other way," replied the giant. "Do not doubt that I too
shall grieve because of our parting; but after searching for her in
vain all these years . . ."
But Everychild, after a moment's reflection, cried out resolutely,
"There is another way. I shall go with you! And after you have found
her, who knows----"
The giant was now happy indeed. "You will go with me?" he cried; "you
will leave all that makes you happy here and go with me into possible
perils? Then make haste--oh, make haste, that we may be on our way."
And speaking thus the giant rushed eagerly from the room.
For a moment Everychild stood lost in thought. It was the Masked Lady
who aroused him. "It will be but a short journey," she said; and it
seemed to Everychild that she spoke sadly. "Go with him, and be sure
you shall make a speedy return."
He would have gone, then. Already he was putting great energy into his
feet, that he might overtake the giant. But the Masked Lady detained
him.
"A word," she said. "Be patient with him, and comfort him, whatever
may befall. And Everychild--take this with you."
As she spoke she produced quite magically the slim, shining sword she
had lent him once before. "Carry this," she said. "When it is drawn a
certain door which would otherwise remain shut will open wide. And be
of good cheer."
He took the sword mutely, wonderingly. How should it cause a door to
open? he mused.
When he had reached the outer door he turned to look again upon the
Masked Lady. She was smiling a little oddly--almost sadly, he thought.
She was holding forth her hands toward the open window. She was not
paying heed to him now. White doves were entering at the window and
alighting on her hands.