So Quest and the goblin lived together on that lone ledge between the
cliffs, and each day was like the first. The goblin worried Quest so
that he couldn’t get on with his thinking.
On a clear morning Quest would rise from sleep and feel happy. “How
still it is, how lovely! Surely to-day I shall remember the truth!” And
lo, from the branch overhead a handful of crabs would come tumbling
about his ears, so that his head buzzed and his thoughts all got mixed.
And there was the little monster mocking him from the crabtree and
laughing fit to burst. Or Quest would be lying in the shade, thinking
most beautifully, till he felt like saying: “There, there now, _now_ it
will come back to me, _now_ I shall puzzle out the truth!” And then the
goblin would squirt him all over with ice-cold water from the spring
through a hollow elder twig—and again Quest would clean forget what he
had already thought out.
There was no silly trick nor idle joke that the goblin did not play on
Quest on the ledge there. And yet all might have been well, if Quest
hadn’t found it just a tiny bit amusing to watch these tomfooleries; and
though he was thinking hard about his task, yet his eyes _would_ wander
and look round to see what the imp might be doing next.
Quest was angry with himself over this, because he was wearying more and
more for his grandfather, and he saw full well that he would never
remember the truth while the goblin was about.
“I must get rid of him,” said Quest.
Well, one fine morning the goblin invented a new game. He climbed up the
cliff where there was a steep water-course in the face of the rock, got
astride a smooth bit of wood as if it had been a hobby-horse, and then
scooted down the water-course like a streak of lightning! This prank
pleased the little wretch so mightily that he must needs have company to
enjoy it the better! So he whistled on a blade of grass till it rang
over hill and dale, and lo, from scrub and rock and osier clump the
goblins came scuttling along, all tiny like himself. He gave orders, and
every man-jack of them took a stick and shinned up the cliff with it. My
word! how they got astride their hobby-horses and hurtled down the
water-course! There were all sorts and sizes and kinds of goblins—red as
a robin’s breast, green as greenfinches, woolly as lambs, naked as
frogs, horned as snails, bald as mice. They careered down the
water-course like a crazy company on crazy horses. Down they flew, each
close at the other’s heels, never stopping till they came to the middle
of the ledge; and there was a great stone all overgrown with moss. There
they were brought up short, and what with the bump of stopping so
suddenly and sheer high spirits they tumbled and scrambled about all
atop of one another in the moss!
Shrieking with glee, the silly crew had made the trip some two or three
times already, and poor Quest was hard put to it between two thoughts.
For one thing, he wanted to watch the imps and be amused by them, and
for another he was angry with them for making such a hullabaloo that he
could not remember the truth. So he shilly-shallied awhile, and at last
he said: “Well, this is past a joke. I must get rid of these
good-for-nothing loons, because while they are here I might as well have
stopped at home.”
And as Quest considered the matter, he noticed that as they rushed down
the water-course they made straight for the spring, and that, but for
the big stone, they would all have toppled into it head foremost. So
Quest crouched behind the stone, and when the imps came dashing down
again guffawing and chuckling as before, he quickly rolled the stone
aside, and the whole mad party rushed straight on to the
well-spring—right on to it and then into it, head first, each on top of
the other—red as robin’s breasts, green as greenfinches, woolly as
lambs, naked as frogs, horned as snails, bald-headed as mice—and first
of all the one who had fastened himself on to Quest....
And then Quest tipped a big flat stone over the well, and all the
goblins were caught inside like flies in a pitcher.
Quest was ever so pleased to have got rid of the goblins, sat down and
made sure he would now recollect the truth in good earnest.
But he had no luck, because down in the well the goblins began to
wriggle and to ramp as never before. Through every gap and chink shot up
tiny flames which the goblins gave out in their fright and distress. The
flames danced and wavered round the spring till Quest’s head was all in
a whirl. He closed his eyes, so that their flashing should not make him
giddy.
But then there arose from the pit such a noise, hubbub, knocking and
banging, barking and yowling, such yelling and shrieking for help, that
Quest’s ears were like to burst; and how could he even try to think
through it? He stopped his ears so as not to hear.
Then a smell of brimstone and sulphur drifted over to him. Through every
crack and crevice oozed thick sooty smoke which the imps belched forth
in their extremity. Smoke and sulphur fumes writhed round Quest; they
choked and smothered him.
So Quest saw there was no help for it. “Goblins shut up,” said he, “are
a hundred times worse than goblins at large. So I’ll just go and let
them out, since I can’t get rid of them anyhow. After all, I am better
off with their tomfooleries than with all that yammering.”
So he went and lifted off the stone; and the terrified goblins scuttled
away in all directions like so many wild cats, and ran away into the
woods and never came back to the ledge any more.
None stayed behind, but only the one black as a mole and with big horns,
because he did not dare to leave Quest for fear of Rampogusto.
But even he sobered down a little from that day forward, and had more
respect for Quest than before.
And so these two came to a sort of arrangement between them; they got
used to one another and lived side by side on the stony ledge.
In that way close on to a year slipped by, and Quest was no nearer
remembering what All-Rosy had really truly told him.
When the year was almost gone the goblin began to be most horribly
bored.
“How much longer have I got to stick here?” thought he. So one evening,
just as Quest was about to fall asleep, the imp wriggled up to him and
said:
“Well, my friend, here you’ve been sitting for close on a year and a
day, and what’s the good of it? Who knows but perhaps in the meantime
your old grand-dad has died all alone in his cabin.”
[Illustration]
A pang shot through Quest’s heart as if he had been struck with a knife,
but he said: “There, I have made up my mind not to budge from here until
I remember the truth, because truth comes before all things.” Thus said
Quest, because he was upright and of good parts.
But all the same he was deeply troubled by what the goblin had said
about his grandfather. He never slept a wink all night, but racked his
brains and thought: “How is it with the old man, my dear grandfather?”