MADAM BREEZE COMES TO THE RESCUE.
"Come!" cried the Captain at last. "Moping is no part of duty. If
Governor Wille won't help us, we must seek allies in other quarters; and
for the rest trust to our good swords."
He raised his bugle to his lips, and sounded a note or two, whereat his
Adjutant appeared.
"Blythe," said the Captain, "order out my pony, and get ready to attend
me to Hilltop. And you, MacWhirlie, see that every Brownie is armed and
ready for work of any kind at a moment's warning. No fuss, please; keep
everything quiet as possible. I don't want Spite the Spy to suspect any
unusual movement. He'll give you credit for a little lack of caution
when he finds you in command;" and the Captain laughed pleasantly as he
said this. "But mind! it mustn't be the genuine article, now. Try for
once to beat Spite at his own favorite tactics. Draw off the cavalry
pickets, but see that your troopers are ready for the saddle. Look to
the pioneer corps, and see that the axes are in good order. Saunter
around carelessly as you like, but keep your eyes open. Come, Blythe!"
The last words were spoken to his Adjutant who already stood holding the
Captain's butterfly pony Swallowtail, as well as his own. The Brownies
sprang upon the creatures' backs and rode away.
MacWhirlie watched the forms of the horsemen until they were lost to
view behind the gable of the house. "Heigh-ho!" he sighed, "the time
was when the journey to Hilltop was a safe and pleasant ride. But it's a
bold feat nowadays, with Pixies waiting at every corner, and their webs
flapping on every bush. But I must e'en leave the Captain with
Providence and go about my own business."
[Illustration: FIG. 24.--Bruce and Blythe on Their Way to Hilltop. Pixie
Attus Tries to Lasso Them.]
The afternoon was well advanced when Bruce and Blythe halted their jaded
ponies under the shade of a laurel bush, a little way from the Lone
Aspen on Hilltop. "Poor fellow!" said the Captain as he stroked
Swallowtail's drooping wings. "It was too bad to bring you on such a
service, with plenty of stouter nags in the stable! But we had to run
the gauntlet of the Pixies, you know, and those big fellows would never
have got through unnoticed. Think they can carry us back?" he asked
anxiously.
"I doubt it, Cap'n," was the answer. "But rest and a hearty meal may
bring 'em around all right."
"Very well; then do you care for them while I go to the Lone Aspen."
[Illustration: THE BOY'S ILLUSTRATION.
FIG. 25.--Bruce Whistling for Madam Breeze.]
The Lone Aspen stood on the summit of the hill. It was an old tree, with
wide spreading branches, and great girth of trunk. The trunk was hollow,
and covered with warts. One of these was quite near the roots, and was
pierced in the centre with a hole which exposed the hollow within. Bruce
stopped at the foot of the tree beneath this opening, and blew a
peculiar note upon a whistle which hung by a chain about his neck. There
was no answer. He whistled again. Still no response. Along the rough
scales and ridges of bark running up and down the trunk, a stairway had
been made like the rounds of a ladder. Upon this the Captain climbed
towards the opening. He stepped out upon a bulging wart and peeped
within the tree. It was empty. Again he blew his whistle. The echoes
rolled up and down the hollow trunk and died away far above toward the
branches, where a faint streak of light shone through an opening like
the one in which the Brownie stood.
"This is strange!" exclaimed the Captain. He turned, and looked up at
the Sun through branches of the tree. "Surely, Madam Breeze should be at
the Lone Aspen at this time of day! However, I must climb to the window
and wait." He sat down on the window ledge, and as he was tired out by
long journeys, hard labors and sleepless nights, in spite of himself he
fell into a doze.
"Ooo--oo--oo!"
A sound like the tones of a distant bell awoke him.
"Ha, she has come!" he cried, and jumped to his feet. Madam Breeze was
passing with her attendants through the door. Her voice sounded through
the hollow trunk as she swept into it. In a moment the Captain felt her
breath upon his cheek, and presently stood face to face with her at the
window.
She kissed him heartily, brushed the hair back caressingly from his
forehead, and addressed him in a sprightly, kindly way. Madam Breeze was
an Elf of pleasing appearance; plump to the verge of stoutness, but
singularly graceful and airy in all her movements. She was troubled with
an asthma which interrupted her speech with frequent attacks of coughing
and wheezing, much to her discomfort and the disturbance of her temper.
She had an odd fashion of expanding and contracting in size either
suddenly or gradually. This occurred oftenest during her attacks of
asthma, and to those who first saw this, the sight was a startling one.
"So my brave little Captain," said the Elf, "you've been whistling for
the Breeze at last, have you? Ah! I thought you would come to it some
day. But you always were such an independent little body--hoogh! And
you have come to the little fat lady at last, hey? Well, I'm heartily
glad to see you--hoogh!--and you'd have been welcome long ago--wheeze!
Sit down and tell me your errand." She bustled about all the while and
kept everything and everybody around her in a whirl of excitement.
"There, now, I've composed myself to listen--wheeze! But I suspect that
I know without being told--hoogh! However, say on, while I sit here and
rock myself." The merry lady twisted together a couple of boughs into
the shape of a rude swing, and seating herself among the leaves, swayed
back and forth, wheezing, coughing, oh-ing and ah-ing, while Bruce told
the story of his troubles.
"And now," he concluded, "I appeal to you for help." He took the whistle
from his neck and laid it in the Elf's hand. "This talisman has always
opened a way for Brownies to the heart and help of you and yours."
"Tut, tut!" said Madam, throwing the chain around the Captain's neck
again, "Put up your whistle--hoogh! No need to remind Madam Breeze by
that of the claim of the fairies upon her and hers. And so these horrid
Pixies have worried the life out of you? And you tarried all this time
before coming to me?--Wheeze, wheeze! Confound this cough! And you
didn't go to my gentle Lady Zephyr this time, hey? Her balmy breath
wouldn't quite suit your present purpose? Ho, ho, ho! Good stout Madam
Breeze for you, hey?--Hoogh! Aha, I see that Brownies, like other folk,
when they get into trouble prefer the useful to the ornamental. Well,
well, you're right enough."
Whereupon the jolly, kind hearted Elf swung and rolled herself about and
made the leaves of the Lone Aspen fairly dance with the voice of her
laughter.
[Illustration: FIG. 26.--Captain Bruce Appeals to Madame Breeze.]
"Now to business!" Madam Breeze sobered down just one moment as she
spoke. "How did you come here? On the ponies, hey? Call Blythe."
Bruce blew his bugle. Presently Blythe clambered up the ladder and
saluted the Elf.
"How are the ponies, Blythe? Pretty well done out, hey? Not fit for the
journey back? In a pinch are you? So I thought. Well, you Brownies do
miss it sometimes, you must confess." Madam ran on asking and answering
her own questions without giving Blythe a chance to speak a word.
However, she seemed, through, some mysterious news agency of her own, to
know everything without information from the Brownies.
"Need fresh horses? Just as I supposed. Here,
here--Whirlit,--wheeze,--hoogh! (Confound that cough!) Blythe, call
Whirlit for me. The rascal!--he's always out of the way when I want
him."
Notwithstanding the bad character given him by his mistress, Whirlit was
at the window in a moment.
"There, keep still now, and listen!" Madam herself was quite as restless
as the frisky Whirlit while she gave her orders, bouncing back and forth
all the time among the leaves. "Still, I say! Put Swallowtail and
Blythe's pony in the stable, and get out my Goldtailed matches. Order
all hands to be ready to leave immediately. Quick! Off with you!"
Whirlit sprang from the window, turning a score of somersaults or more
on his way to the ground. He returned presently, leading a pair of
Goldtailed moths. They were beautiful insects with soft downy plumage,
snowy white color, and a tuft of yellow hair at the end of the tail.
"Aren't they beauties," cried Madam, casting an admiring glance at her
splendid matches. "And fast, too. And thoroughly trained. And what's
the strangest thing about them, they're not worth an old straw in the
day time. They hang around on the bark here as spiritless as a
toadstool. But the moment evening comes they spruce up, and hie--away!
they're brisk enough then. Queer, isn't it? But I keep 'em just for
night work. Now we're all ready for a bout with the Pixies. Pooh! the
nasty beasts! I hate to soil my breath with them and their clammy
snares. But Brownies can't be left to suffer. Ready, Captain? Yes? very
well, then, mount and away!"
The afternoon was nearly gone. Below Hilltop the woods, orchard, house,
lawn and garden all lay in shadow. The Goldtailed matches were in fine
spirits. Their energetic mistress kept close behind them buoying them
up, and urging them on, and in a short time they reached the spring at
the foot of the orchard back of the mansion.
"Halt!" cried Madam Breeze. "I shall wait here in the tops of the trees,
while you move forward and get your Brownies ready. Be quick, now, and
when you want me, remember the whistle."