"And why do you do such mischievous things, and make people so
savage? It isn't fair that they don't dare to touch you and all their
ill-will falls on me."
"As it happens, it's not my doing at all this time; at least, I didn't
go out of my way to do it for any sort of fun. It all came about in
the regular way of business."
"What do you mean?" pursued Giuseppa, who knew it was necessary to
probe the matter to the bottom.
"Why, the king of that country is a regular miser. He is so afraid
that any body should get any thing out of their gardens without paying
the due tribute to him first, that he has built such high walls round
all the orchards, and vine-gardens, and olive-yards, that no sun can
get at them. And he is so stingy, he won't pay people to dig round
them and manure, and prune, and attend to the property; so how can
the fruit grow? As long as he defrauds the poor people of their work,
he can have no fruit. It's not my fault at all!
"But, really, I've had enough of this. You'd better go and sleep
somewhere else for the rest of the night, for I can't stand being woke
up any more. If you do it again, I am sure I shall strangle you--and
that would be a pity! Go along, and dream somewhere else--and I hope
you may get properly punished before you wake next time!"
Giuseppa desired no command so much; but pretending to cry and
be much offended, she got up and went to lie down in another bed
till the Devil began to snore soundly again. Then she rose up, and,
taking all her fine clothes and jewels, went out softly, and beckoned
to Clamer to follow her.
"Suppose the Devil wakes before we get far away?" said Clamer,
beginning to get frightened as the time of trial approached.
"Never fear!" answered Giuseppa; "when he gets disturbed like that,
he sleeps for a week after it."
Then she clapped her hands, and a number of great birds came flapping
round. She helped Clamer on to the back of one, and, loading her
jewels on to another, sprang on to a third, and away they flew,
while she beckoned to three more to follow behind.
When they came to the first kingdom, Clamer left the strange cortege
behind a mountain, and went alone up to the court, to tell the
king he was a miser, and that if he gave up his sordid ways and set
the people, who were starving for want of work, to pull down half
the height of his walls, and to dig, manure, and prune his trees,
he would have as good a crop of fruit as any in the world. Then the
king acknowledged his fault, and praised Clamer for pointing it out,
and gave him a great bag of gold as his reward.
Clamer packed the sack of gold on to the back of one of the birds
which were following them, and away they sped again. When they arrived
at the second kingdom, Clamer hid his cortége in a pine forest,
and went alone to the court, to tell the king that if his son would
give up his bad companions, and live according to the advice of his
elders, he would be all well again as before. The prince was very
much astonished to find that Clamer knew about his bad behaviour,
for he had concealed it from his parents and all about him, but this
convinced him that he must be right in what he said, so he promised to
alter his life and behave according to the wise counsel of his elders
in future. From that moment he began to get better; and the king,
in joy at his restoration, gave Clamer a great sack of gold, which
he laded on to the back of the second bird; and away they flew again.
When they arrived at the third kingdom, Clamer hid his retinue in
the bed of a dried lake and went alone to the court, to tell the
king that if he would order the procession to the pilgrimage chapel
to be resumed, the Devil would not be able to get in to stop the
fountains. The king at once ordered the grandest procession that had
ever been known in the memory of the oldest inhabitant, and all the
people went out devoutly praying. Immediately the springs and fountains
began to flow again; and the king was so pleased that he gave Clamer a
great sack of gold, which he packed on to the back of the third bird;
and away they flew again, till they reached the gloomy shades of the
Val d'Ombretta, under the cold, steep precipices of the Marmolata [85].
"Here will be a good place to hide all this treasure," said Giuseppa;
"it will never do to take it into Trient all at once. We will bury
it here where foot of man seldom falls, and my birds will keep good
watch over it and defend it, and yet by their services we shall be
able to fetch down any portion of it as we want it."
Clamer saw there was some good in the proposal, but he hardly liked
giving up the possession of the treasure to Giuseppa's birds, neither
did he like to show any want of confidence.
"Don't you think it an excellent plan?" asked Giuseppa, as she saw
him hesitate.
"I think I could stow it away as safely in an old well at home," said
Clamer. "This is an uncanny place of evil renown, and I had just as
lief have nothing to do with it."
"What's the matter with the place?" asked Giuseppa.
"Oh, you know, the Marmolata was as fertile as any pasture of Tirol
once," answered Clamer; "and because the people had such fine returns
for their labour from it, they grew careless and impious, and were
not satisfied with all the week for working in it, but must needs be
at it on Sundays and holidays as well. One Sunday an ancient man came
by and chid them for their profanity. 'Go along with your old wives'
stories!' said a rich proprietor who was directing the labourers;
'Sunday and working-day is all alike to us. We have sun and rain
and a fine soil, what do we want with going to church to pray?' And
they sang,--
'Nos ongh el fengh en te tablà,
E i autri sul prà [86]!'
"The old man lifted up his finger in warning, and passed on his way;
but as he went it came on to snow. And it snowed on till it had covered
all the ground; covered all the hay up to the top; covered over the
heads of the labourers and their masters; snowed so deep that the sun
has never been able to melt it away again! A curse is on the place,
and I had rather have nothing to do with it."
"Oh, I've lived long enough where curses abound to care very little
about them," answered Giuseppa, "or I could tell you the real story
about that, for you've only got the wrong end of it. But it doesn't
do to think of those things. The only way is to laugh at all that
sort of thing, and make yourself jolly while you can."
"My story's the right one," replied Clamer, "and you won't laugh me
out of believing it."
"Oh, dear no; the right story is much more serious than that! But
I lose my patience with people who trouble themselves about those
things."
"I don't believe there's any more of the story," continued Clamer,
who was dying to hear it, and knew that the best way to get at it was
by provoking her. Had he merely begged her to tell it, she would have
found a perverse pleasure in disappointing him.
Giuseppa was very easily provoked. "The right story proves itself,"
she cried, pettishly; and Clamer chuckled aside to see his plan
succeed. "Your way of telling it only accounts for the snow; how do
you account for the ice?"
"Oh, there's no way of accounting for that," replied Clamer, with a
malicious laugh.
"Yes, there is," rejoined Giuseppa, fairly caught. "It wasn't an old
man at all who came to give the warning. It was a very young man,
for it was no one else but St. John."
"St. John!" cried Clamer; "how could that be?"
"Don't you know any thing, then?" retorted Giuseppa. "Don't you know
that there was a time when our Lord and His Apostles went walking
over the earth, preaching the Gospel?"
"Yes, of course I know that," replied Clamer, much offended.
"Well, then, in process of travelling they came here just the same as
every where else--why shouldn't they? The Apostles had been sent on to
prepare a lodging for the night, and St. John, being the youngest and
best walker, outstripped the rest, and came by first. But he was so
soft and gentle in his warning that the labourers laughed at him, and
he went on his way sighing, for he saw that their hearts were hardened.
"Then St. Peter and St. Paul came by----"
"But St. Paul--" interposed Clamer.
"Don't interrupt, but listen," said Giuseppa. "St. Peter and St. Paul,
though not younger than the others like St. John, were always in the
front in all matters, because of their eagerness and zeal, and the
important post which was assigned them in the Church. They came next,
therefore; but they, seeing the men working on Sunday, were filled
with indignation, and chid them so fiercely that they only made them
angry, and they took up stones to throw at them, and drove them out
of the ground. One by one the other Apostles all came by and warned
them, but none of them seemed to have the right way of getting at
their hearts. And they went on working, with a worse sin on them for
having been warned.
"Last of all, the Lord Himself came by, and His heart was moved
with compassion by the perversity of the people. He saw that all the
preaching of all His Apostles had been in vain, and He resolved to
save them in another way, and prove them, to see if there was any
charity or any good in them at all.
"Instead of threatening and warning, He came leaning on His staff,
weary and way-sore.
"'You have a fine Berg-Segen [87], my friends,' He said, sweetly,
as He sat on a great heap of fresh hay placed ready to load the
returning wain.
"'Oh, yes! first-rate crops,' replied the rich proprietor, with a
look of contempt at the travel-stained garments of the wayfarer;
'but they're not meant to serve as beds for idle fellows who go
prowling about the country and live by begging instead of by work,
so you just get up and take yourself off!'
"Our Lord looked at him with a piteous glance, but his heart was not
softened. 'Move off quicker than that, or you'll taste my stick!' he
cried, assuming a threatening attitude.
"Our Lord passed on, without uttering a word of complaint, till He
reached the holding of the next proprietor.
"'Where there are such fine pastures there must be fine cattle and
a fine store of produce,' He said.
"'Oh, yes, I've plenty of stores!' said the man addressed; 'and
that's just why I don't like to have loafing vagabonds about my place;
so please to move on quicker than you came.'
"'But I'm weary, my good man, and have come a long journey this day,
and have nothing to eat: give me, now, but one sup of milk from your
bountiful provision there.'
"'Give!' answered the man; 'I've nothing to give away. I work hard
for all I gain, and I don't encourage those who don't work.'
"'But you won't miss the little I ask--and I have travelled very far
and am very weary,' replied our Lord, condescending to speak very
piteously, to see if He could not by any means move the man's heart.
"'Hola! you there! Domenico, Virgilio, Giacomo, Rocco, Pero! come
along here, and throw this fellow out!' shouted the proprietor.
"The men turned with their pitchforks, and drove the wayfarer rudely
away, without pity, notwithstanding that His legs trembled with
weariness and the way was so steep.
"Our Lord uttered not a word, and hasted on, that He might not increase
their condemnation by resistance.
"But the heavens grew black with anger at the sight; the storm-clouds
gathered in vengeance; grey and leaden, mass above mass, they thickened
over the devoted peak of the Marmolata; the sun ceased to smile,
and a horrible darkness fell around.
"Closer and closer lowered the clouds, till they fell, enveloping
the mountain-top with white fields of snow.
"'Nay!' cried the Saviour, compassionately; 'Father, stay Thine
hand!' And for a moment the convulsion of the angry element was
stilled. 'They knew not what they did,' He pleaded; and He passed
down the path to the next holding.
"'See,' He said to the proprietor, who was watching the strange storm
with some alarm, 'see how terrible are the judgments of God! Give Him
praise for the blessing He has poured out on you, and save yourself
from His anger.'
"'What have I to do with the misfortunes of others? Every thing goes
right with me.'
"'But it may not always. Be wise betimes, and render praise to God.'
"'What do I know about God?' answered the man; 'I've enough to do with
taking care of the earth; I don't want to puzzle my head about heaven!'
"'All good gifts are from heaven.' replied the Lord, faintly; and He
sank upon the ground exhausted.
"'See!' cried a woman who had come out with her husband's dinner,
'see, He has fallen; will you do nothing to restore Him?' And she
ran to raise Him up.
"'Let Him lie.' said her master, pushing her roughly away; 'it were
better the earth were rid of such idle fellows.'
"He had filled up the measure of his iniquity. 'Hard and icy as his
heart has been, so shall his pasture be!' proclaimed the Angel of
Judgment. And as he spread his arms abroad, the clouds fell over the
sides of the mountain; the cold blast turned them into ice, and it
became a barren glacier for evermore.
"But the angels carried the Lord to the place the Apostles had prepared
for Him. And the woman who had pitied Him alone escaped and recorded
the story."
A shudder had fallen over Clamer, and he seemed hardly inclined
to break the silence which reigned around. There was not a bird to
chirp a note, nor a leaf to flutter, nor a blade of grass to gladden
the eye. Meantime they had reached the Fassathal, which, though so
fruitful farther along, is scarcely more smiling at its east end.
"Were it not well, Pangrazio," urged Giuseppa, "to bury our treasure
here, before we get nearer the habitations of men? Ah!" she added,
"I see what it is, it is not of the weird neighbourhood that you are
shy, it is that you trust not me! you think if my birds guard the
treasure you will have less control over it than I!"
"Oh, no!" answered Clamer, ashamed to have been found out; "it is not
that; but there are as many weird warnings rife here as concerning the
Marmolata. Does not the Feuriger Verräther [88] haunt this place? and
does not the Purgametsch conceal a village which was buried for its
sins? Is it not just here that lurk the Angane and the Bergostanö
[89]?"
"Really, I can undertake to defend you against all these chimerical
fancies," replied Giuseppa, scornfully; "but if you don't feel any
confidence in me, it is absurd our attempting to live together."
"It is not that--I have told you it is not that!" cried Clamer.
"Then shall we do it?" urged she. Thus driven, Clamer could not
choose but give in; and Giuseppa sent her monster birds to conceal the
treasure they bore, in the hole she pointed out high up in the rocks,
and remain in guard over it.
This done they sped over the pleasant Fleimserthal and Cembrathal
to Trient.
Eligio Righi received his returning envoy with a hearty welcome, and
listened without wearying to his frequent repetition of the tale of
his adventures. The part where he described the manner in which he
had administered the chastisement on the Devil was what delighted
him most, and the account of the roaring of the Devil with the pain.
Moreover, he kept his word, and opened his house and his purse to
Clamer, who shared every thing as if it had been his own, and even
obtained his sanction to bring home his wife, though he durst not
tell him how he obtained her.
Giuseppa had now not only a fine house and broad lands, and plenty of
servants and clothes, and every thing she wished for, but she had only
to send one of her birds to the treasury in the Fassathal to supply
all her caprices as well as wants--yet she was always complaining
and quarrelling. Pangrazio often found her quite unbearable; but he
remembered she was his wife, and he forgave her, though the more he
gave in, the more unreasonable she got.
In the meantime, it must not be supposed that Luxehale had never
awaked. True, he slept on for a good week, as Giuseppa had predicted,
but that over, he woke up in a pretty passion at finding she had
escaped.
With all her evil temper, Giuseppa had suited him very well; he rather
enjoyed an occasional broil, it was much more to his taste than peace
and amity--and besides, he was sure always to get the best of it. So
he determined that this time, instead of going in search of a new wife,
he would get the old one back.
"Those who come to me in the way she did," he reflected, "don't
escape so easily. The others I more or less deceived. They came
with me thinking I was one of their own sort; but she followed me
with her eyes open--she knew all about me before she came. Besides,
they hated the place the moment they found out where they were, but
she knew what it was, and yet liked it all along. No, I don't think
she's of the sort that go back in thorough earnest."
So he dressed himself up in his best, put a plume in his hat and a
flower in his button-hole, and went off to Trient. He had not watched
the house where Giuseppa lived many days before he heard her voice
raised to that angry key he knew so well.
"That'll do for me," he said, rubbing his hands. "It's all going
on right."
"What do you want more?" he heard Clamer plead. "If there is any
thing I can do to please you, I will do it!"
"You are a fool! and there's nothing in you can please me," screamed
Giuseppa, too angry to be pacified; "you're not like Luxehale. Why
did you ever take me away from him? He was something to look at!"
"It's going on all right!" said Luxehale, chuckling.
"Why did you come away?" said Pangrazio, quietly.
"I didn't know what I was about! Would that I had never done it!" she
added.
"Oh, don't say that!" replied Pangrazio, imploringly. But instead
of being won by his kindness she only grew the more noisy, till at
last Pangrazio could stand it no longer, and he went out to avoid
growing angry.
"Now is my time!" said the Devil; and he slipped round to the
window. Giuseppa was still fretting and fuming, and invoking Luxehale
at the top of her voice.
"Here I am!" said Luxehale. "Will you come back with me, and leave
this stupid loafer?"
"What you there!" cried Giuseppa, rushing to the window, and kissing
him. "Of course I'll go with you. Take me away!"
"All right; jump down!" said Luxehale, helping her over the
window-sill. Giuseppa threw herself into his arms, and away they
walked. Arrived outside the town, Luxehale lifted her up, spread his
black bat's wings, and carried her off.
"Go through the Fleimserthal and the Fassathal," said Giuseppa;
"I've got something to show you there."
"Any thing to please you!" answered Luxehale.
"Oh, it's not to please me!" cried Giuseppa, taking offence.
"Now don't begin again; it won't do with me!" replied Luxehale,
with a sternness he had never before exercised. "Mind, I don't mean
to allow any more of it."
"Oh, if that's to be it," said Giuseppa, "I'll go back again to
Pangrazio."
"No, you won't!" replied Luxehale; "you don't go back any more,
I'll take good care of that! And now, what did you want to come by
the Fassathal for?"
"Only because it's the way I passed with Pangrazio, and it renewed
a sweet memory of him."
"That won't do for me! What was the real reason?"
"What will you give me if I tell you?"
"Nothing. But if you don't tell me, I shall know how to make you."
Giuseppa's courage failed her when she heard him talk like this. She
knew she had given herself to him of her own will, and so she belonged
to him, and she could not help herself; and now, the best course she
could think of was to tell him of the treasure, and trust to the good
humour it would put him in, for he was very avaricious, to get her
forgiveness out of him.
Clamer came back from a walk outside the town--where he had gone to get
cool after his wife's scolding--just in time to see Luxehale spread
his wings and fly away with Giuseppa in his arms. He called to her,
but she did not hear him; and all he could do was to stand watching
them till they were out of sight.
He came back so gloomy and dejected that his friend Eligio Righi was
quite distressed to see him. He was so sympathizing, indeed, that
Pangrazio could not forbear telling him the whole story. "Then, if
that is so, you need not regret being quit of her," moralized his sage
friend: "she was no wife for an honest man. And as for the treasure,
you have enough without that. It was but ill-gotten gain which came
to you for knowledge obtained from such a source."
ZOVANIN SENZA PAURA [90]; OR,
THE BOY WHO WENT OUT TO DISCOVER WHAT FEAR MEANT.
Zovanin was a bold boy, and never seemed to be afraid of any
thing. When other children were afraid lest Orco [91] should play
them some of his malicious tricks, when people cried out to him,
"Take care, and don't walk in those footprints, they may be those of
Orco!" he would only laugh, and say, "Let Orco come; I should like
to see him!" When he was sent out upon the mountains with the herds,
and had to be alone with them through the dark nights, and his mother
bid him not be afraid, he used to stare at her with his great round
eyes as if he wondered what she meant. If a lamb or a goat strayed
over a difficult precipice, and the neighbours cried out to him,
"Let be; it is not safe to go after it down that steep place," he
would seem to think they were making game of him, and would swing
himself over the steep as firmly and as steadily as if he were merely
bestriding a hedge. He saw people shun passing through the churchyards
by dark, and so he used to make it his habit to sleep every night on
the graves; and as they said they were afraid of being struck blind
if they slept in the moonlight, he would always choose to lie where
the moonbeams fell. Nor thunder, nor avalanche, nor fire, nor flood,
nor storm seemed to have any terror for him; so that at last people
set him to do every kind of thing they were afraid to do themselves,
and he got so much wondered at, that he said, "I will go abroad over
the world, and see if I can find any where this same Fear that I hear
people talk of."
So he went out, and walked along by the most desolate paths and through
frightful stony wildernesses, till he came to a village where there
was a fair going on. Zovanin was too tired to care much for the dance,
so instead of joining it he asked for a bed.
"A bed!" said the host; "that's what I can give you least of all. My
beds are for regular customers, and not for strollers who drop down
from the skies;" for, being full of business at the moment, he was
uppish and haughty, as if his day's prosperity was to last for ever.
While Zovanin was urging that his money was as good as another's, and
the host growing more and more insolent while repeating that he could
not receive him, a terrific shouting of men, and screeching of women
made itself heard, and pell-mell the whole tribe of peasants, pedlars,
and showmen came rushing towards the inn, flying helter-skelter before
a furious and gigantic maniac brandishing a formidable club. Every one
ran for dear life, seeking what shelter they could find. The inn was
filled to overflowing in a trice, and those who could not find entrance
there hid themselves in the stables and pig-styes and cellars. But
no one was in so great a hurry to hide himself as mine host, who had
been so loud with his blustering to a defenceless stranger anon. Only,
when he saw the baffled madman breaking in his doors and windows with
his massive oaken staff, he put his head dolefully out of the topmost
window, and piteously entreated some one to put a stop to the havoc.
Zovanin was not quick-witted: all this noisy scene had been transacted
and it had not yet occurred to him to move from the spot where he
originally stood; in fact, he had hardly apprehended what it was that
was taking place, only at last the host's vehement gesticulations
suggested to him that he wanted the madman arrested.
"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Zovanin. "All right, I'm your man!" and
walking up coolly to the cause of all this disturbance, he said,
in the tone of one who meant to be obeyed, "Give me your club."
The poor imbecile was usually harmless enough; he lived in
an out-of-the-way hut with his family, where he seldom saw a
stranger. They had incautiously brought him up to the fête, where
he had first become excited by the sight of the unwonted number of
people; then some thoughtless youths had further provoked him by
mocking and laughing at him; and when the people ran away in fear of
his retaliation, he had only yielded to a natural impulse in running
after them. But when Zovanin stood before him, fearless and collected,
and said, in his blunt, quiet way, "Give me your club," his habitual
obedience prevailed over the momentary ebullition, and he yielded
himself up peaceably to the guidance of the young giant. Zovanin first
secured the club, and then desired the madman to bestow himself in
an empty shed, of which he closed and made fast the door. When the
landlord and people saw the coast clear they all came out again,
the latter losing no time in going back to their games, the former
to resume his preparations for the entertainment of his guests.
"Well," said Zovanin, "I suppose now you'll make no difficulty in
providing me a bed? I think that's the least you can do for me,
after my befriending you as I have. I have earned it, if any one has."
"What! you think that such a great feat, do you?" said the landlord,
who, deeming the madman well secured, felt no compunction in disowning
Johnny's service. "Do you suppose any other couldn't have said,
'Give me your club,' just as well as you?"
"Perhaps you would like to try," replied our hero; and he went to
unbar the shed-door.
"For heaven's sake, no!" screamed the cowardly landlord, preparing
to run away. "Don't let him loose on any account; I'll do any thing
for you sooner than that!"
"Well, you know what I want; it's not much, and reasonable enough,"
replied Fearless Johnny, relaxing his hold of the door.
"But that's just the one thing I can't do," lamented the host. "My
beds are bespoken to customers who come every year to the fair,
and if I disappoint any of them I'm a ruined man."
"Very well then, here goes!" and Zovanin once more prepared to open
the shed-door.
"Oh, no; stop!" roared the landlord. "Perhaps there is a way,
after all."
"Ah!" ejaculated Johnny; "I thought as much."
"There is a room, in fact a whole suite of rooms, and a magnificent
suite of rooms, I daren't give to any one else, but I think they will
do for you, as you are such a stout-hearted chap."
"Where are they?" said Johnny.
"Do you see that castle on the tip of the high rock yonder, that
looks like an eagle perched for a moment and ready to take flight?"
"I should rather think I did, seeing it's one of the most remarkable
sights I have met with in all my travels."
"Well, that castle was built by a bad giant who lived here in former
times; and he balanced it like that on the tip of the rock, and only
he had the secret of walking into it. If any one else steps into it,
they are pretty sure of stepping on the wrong place, and down will
go the whole castle overbalanced into the abyss. When he was once
inside it, he had an iron chain by which he made it fast to the rock;
and when he went out he used to set it swinging as you see, so that
no one might dare to venture in and take back possession of the
booty which he seized right and left from all the country round. If
you don't mind trying your luck at taking possession of the castle,
you can lodge there like a prince, for there are twelve ghosts, who
come there every night, who will supply you with every thing you can
ask for. So there is all you desire to have, and more, provided only
the idea does not strike you with fear."
"Fear, say you?" said Zovanin, opening his great round eyes; "do you
say I shall find 'Fear' in yonder castle?"
"Most assuredly. Every body finds it in merely listening to the story."
"Then that's what I came out to seek; so show me the way, and there
I will lodge."
The host stared at his crack-brained guest, but, glad to be rid of
his importunity for a night's lodging in the inn, made no delay in
pointing out the path which led to the giant's castle.
Zovanin trudged along it without hesitation, nor was he long in
reaching the precariously balanced edifice. Once before the entrance,
he had little difficulty in seeing what was required in order to take
possession. Just in the centre of the building a large stone stood
up prominently, and though at a great distance from the threshold,
was probably not more than a stride for the giant of old--as a further
token, it was worn away at the edge, evidently where he had stepped
on to it. Zovanin saw it could be reached by a bold spring, and,
having no fear of making a false step, he was able to calculate his
distance without disturbance from nervousness. Having balanced himself
successfully on the stone, he next set himself to fix the chain which
attached his airy castle to the rock, and then made his way through
its various apartments. Every thing was very clean and in good order,
for the twelve ghosts came every night and put all to rights. Zovanin
had hardly finished making his round when in they came, all dressed
in white.
"Bring me a bottle of wine, and some bread and meat, candles and
cards," said Fearless Johnny, just as if he had been giving an order
to the waiter of an inn; for he remembered that the landlord had
said they would supply him, and he felt no fear which should make
him shrink from them.
"I wonder where this same Fear can be?" he said, as the ghosts were
preparing his supper; "I have been pretty well all over the castle
already, and can see nothing of him. Oh, yes! I will just go down
and explore the cellars, perhaps I shall find him down there."
"Yes; go down and choose your wine to your own taste, and you will
find him there, sure enough," said the twelve ghosts.
"Shall I, though?" said John, delighted; and down he went.
The bottles were all in order, labelled with the names of various
choice vintages in such tempting variety that he was puzzled which to
choose. At last, however, he stretched his hand out to reach down a
bottle from a high shelf, when lo and behold a grinning skull showed
itself in the place where the bottle had stood, and asked him how he
dared meddle with the wine! Without being in the least disconcerted
at its horrid appearance, Fearless Johnny passed the bottle into his
left hand, and with his right taking up the skull, flung it over his
shoulder to the farthermost corner of the cellar. He had no sooner
done so, however, than a long bony arm was stretched out from the same
place, and made a grab at the bottle. But Fearless John caught the
arm and flung it after the skull. Immediately another arm appeared,
and was treated in the same way; then came a long, lanky leg, and
tried to kick him on the nose, but Johnny dealt with it as with the
others; then came another leg, which he sent flying into the corner
too; and then the ribs and spine, till all the bones of a skeleton
had severally appeared before him, and had all been cast by him on
to the same shapeless heap.
Now he turned to go, but as he did so a great rattling was heard in
the corner where he had thrown the bones. It was all the bones joining
themselves together and forming themselves into a perfect skeleton,
which came clatter-patter after him up the stairs.
Zovanin neither turned to look at it nor hurried his pace, but walked
straight back, bottle in hand, into the room where the supper was laid
ready, and the pack of cards by the side, as he had ordered. All the
while that he was supping, the skeleton kept up a wild dance round him,
trying to excite him by menacing gestures, but Fearless Johnny munched
his bread and meat and drank his wine, and took no more notice than
of the insects buzzing round the sconces.
When he had done he called to the ghosts in the coolest way imaginable
to clear away the things, and then dealt out the cards, with one hand
for a "dummy" and one for himself. He had no sooner done this than the
skeleton sat down, with a horrid grimace of triumph, and took up the
"dummy's" hand!
"You needn't grin like that," said Johnny; "you may depend on it I
shouldn't have let you take the cards if it hadn't pleased me. If
you know how to play, play on--it is much better fun than playing
both hands oneself. Only, if you don't know how to play, you leave
them alone--and you had better not give me reason to turn you out."
The skeleton, however, understood the game very well, and with
alternate fortune they played and passed away the hours till it was
time to go to bed. Johnny then rose and called the twelve ghosts to
light him up to bed, which they did in gravest order. He had no sooner
laid himself to sleep than, with a great clatter, the skeleton came
in and pulled the bedclothes off him. In a great passion Fearless
Johnny jumped up, and brandishing a chair over his head, threatened
to break every one of his bones if he didn't immediately lay the
clothes straight again. The skeleton had no defence for his bones,
and so could not choose but obey; and Johnny went quietly to bed again.
"It was a pity I didn't ask the poor fellow what ailed him, though,"
said Johnny, when he was once more alone. "Perhaps he too is tormented
by this 'Fear' that every one thinks so much of, and wanted me to
help him. Ah, well, if he comes again I will ask him;" and with that
he rolled himself up in the quilt, and went to sleep again. An hour
had hardly passed before the skeleton came in again, and this time
he shook the bedpost so violently that he woke Johnny with a start.
"Ah! there he is again!" cried Johnny; "now I'll ask him what he
wants;" so he jumped out of bed once more, and addressed the skeleton
solemnly in these words:--
"Anima terrena,
Stammi lontana tre passi,
E raccontami la tua pena [92]!"
Then the skeleton made a sign to him to follow it, and led him down to
the foundations of the castle, where there was a big block of porphyry.
"Heave up that block," said the skeleton.
"Not I!" replied Johnny; "I didn't set it there, and so I'm not going
to take it up."
So the skeleton took up the block itself, and under it lay shining
two immense jars full of gold.
"Take them, and count them out," said the skeleton.
"Not I!" said Johnny; "I didn't heap them up, and so I'm not going
to count them out."
So the skeleton counted them out itself, and they contained ten
thousand gold pieces each.
When it had done, it said, "I am the giant who built this castle. I
have waited here these hundreds of years till one came fearless enough
to do what you have done to-night, and now I am free, because to you
I may give over the castle; so take it, for it is yours, and with it
one of these jars of gold, which is enough to make you rich, but take
the other jar of gold and build a church, and let them pray for me,
and learn to be better men than I."
With that he disappeared, and Fearless Johnny slept quietly for the
rest of the night.
In the morning, when the sun was up, and the birds began to sing
cheerily on the branches, the landlord began to feel some compunction
for having abandoned such a fine young Bursch to a night by himself
among the unquiet spirits; so he summoned all his courage, and all
his servants, and all his neighbours, and, thus prepared, he led the
way up to the haunted castle. Finding that it was firmly fixed by the
chain, they all entered in a body, for none durst be the first; and
the entrance, having been made for the giant, was big enough for all.
Zovanin having had such a disturbed night was still fast asleep, but
their footsteps and anxious whisperings woke him. In answer to all
their questionings he gave an account of what had happened to him, but
still complained that, after all, he had not been able to find Fear!
Zovanin was now a rich man, and had a mighty castle to live in where
he might have ended his days in peace, but he was always possessed
by the desire of finding out what Fear was, and this desire was too
strong to let him rest.
The neighbours, however, told him he might find Fear out hunting;
and many were the hunting-parties he established, and wherever the
wild game was shyest, there he sought it out. Once, as he sprang
over a chasm his horse made a false start, and was plunged into the
abyss, but Fearless Johnny caught at the bough of a birch-tree that
waved over the mountain-side. The branch cracked, and it seemed as
if nothing could save him, but Fearless Johnny only swung himself on
to another on the ledge below, and climbed back by its means to the
path. Another time, as he was pursuing a chamois up a precipitous
track, a great mass of loose rock, detached from the height above,
came thundering down upon him. An ordinary hunter, scared at the sight,
would have given himself up for lost, but Fearless Johnny stood quite
still and let it bound over his head, and he came to no harm.
So he still was unable to find Fear. After some years, therefore,
he once more went abroad to seek it. This time, however, he provided
himself with a fine suit of armour and a prancing charger, and a
noble figure he cut as he ambled forth.
After a long journey, with many adventures, he came one hot day,
as he was very thirsty, to a fountain of water in the outskirts of a
town, and as he dismounted to drink he observed that the whole place
looked sad and deserted; the road was grass-grown, and the houses
seemed neglected and empty. As he went up to the fountain to drink,
a faint voice called to him from the wayside, "Beware, and do it
not! Think you that we all should be lying here dying of thirst if
you could drink at that fountain?"
Then he looked round, and saw that, as far as eye could reach, the
banks of the wayside were covered with dying people heaped up one on
the other, and all gazing towards the fountain!
"Know you not," continued the weary voice, "that a terrible dragon
has taken possession of all the fountains; and that the moment one
goes to drink of them he appears, as though he would eat you up,
so that you are bound to run away for very fear?"
"'Fear!'" cried Zovanin; "is Fear here at last?" and he joyfully ran
to the side of the well.
All the weary, dying people raised themselves as well as they could, to
see what should befall him who was not afraid of the terrible dragon.
But Fearless Johnny went up to the fountain's brim to dip his hand
into the cooling flood. Before he could do so, however, the terrible
dragon put his head up through the midst, with a frightful howl, and
spueing fire out of his nostrils. Zovanin, instead of drawing back,
instantly took out his sword and, with one blow, severed the monster's
head from the trunk! Then all the people rushed to the fountain,
hailing him as their deliverer. But ere they had slaked their thirst,
the dragon, which had sunk back into the depth of the water, reappeared
with a new head, already full grown, and more terrible than the last,
for it not only spued out fire from its nostrils, but darted living
sparks from its eyes.
When the people saw this they all ran away screaming, and Zovanin was
left alone; but, as usual, he did not lose heart, and with another
well-aimed blow sent the second head of the monster rolling by the
side of the first!
The people came back, and began to drink again when they saw the huge
trunk disappear beneath the surface; but it was not many minutes
before another head cropped up, more terrible than either of the
preceding, for it not only spued fire from its nostrils and darted
living sparks from its eyes, but it had hair and mane of flames,
which waved and rolled abroad, threatening all within reach. All the
people fled at the sight, and Zovanin was once more left alone with
the monster. Once more he severed the terrible head; and after this
the dragon was seen no more.
"That must be very wonderful blood out of which three heads can
spring," thought Fearless Johnny; and he filled a vial with the
dragon's blood, and journeyed farther.
After a time he came to the outskirts of another town. It was
not deserted like the last. The streets were full of people making
merry--in fact, every one was so very merry that they seemed a whole
community of madmen. Another might have been afraid to encounter
them at all; but not so Fearless Johnny, he spurred his horse and
rode right through their midst. But for all his seeming so fearless
and self-possessed, the people got round him, and seized his horse's
bridle, and dragged him from the saddle.
"What do you want with me, good people?" cried Zovanin; "let me hear,
before you pull me to pieces."
When they found him so cool, spite of the wild way in which they had
handled him, they began to respect him, and loosed their hold.
"If you want to know," answered one, "it is soon told. We are all
in this town wholly given up to amusement. We have done with work
and toil, and do nothing but dance, and drink, and sing, and divert
ourselves from morning to night. But after enjoying all this a long
time, we begin to find it rather wearisome, and we are almost as
tired of our pastime as we used to be of our labour. So the king has
decreed that every stranger who comes by this way shall be caught,
and required to find us a quite new diversion, and if he cannot do
that, we will make him dance on red-hot stones, and flog him round
the town, and get some fun out of him that way, at all events; as
you don't look very likely to find us a new pastime, we may as well
begin with putting you on your death-dance."
"Don't make too sure of that!" said Fearless Johnny, not at all
disconcerted; "take me to your king, and I'll show you a diversion
you never heard of before."
When he came to the king, the king laughed, and would hardly listen
to him, because he looked so broad and heavy, and not at all like
one who could invent a merry game.
But Johnny protested that if they would let him cut off any one's
head, he would stick it on just as before, and the man should be
never the worse.
The king was greatly delighted with the idea, and most anxious to see
the performance, promising that he would not only let him go free if
he succeeded, but would load him with honours and presents into the
bargain. Zovanin professed himself quite ready to prove his skill,
but no one could be found who was willing to let the experiment be
tried on him.
This angered the king greatly; and at last he called forward his
jester, and ordered Zovanin to make the trial on him.
The jester, however, objected as much as any one else, only, as he
belonged entirely to the king, he could not disobey him. "But think,
your majesty," said the poor hunchback, "what will your majesty do
without his jester, if this quack does not succeed in his promises?"
"But I shall succeed!" thundered Fearless Johnny; and he spoke with
such assurance, that the king and all the people were more desirous
than ever to see the feat, and cried to him to commence. When the
jester found that all hope of wriggling out of the cruel decree was
vain, he threw himself on his knees, and begged so earnestly that
the king would grant him two favours, that he could not resist. The
two favours were, that he should have the satisfaction of repeating
the trick on Johnny, if he allowed him to try his skill on him, and
also that he should first give proof of what he could do on the ape,
with whose pranks he was wont to amuse the king.
The king and Zovanin both agreed to the two requests, and the poor
ape was brought forward, and delivered over to make the first essay.
Zovanin did not keep the breathless multitude long in suspense;
with one blow he severed its head, threw it up high in the air,
that all might see it was well cut off, and then placed it on again,
smearing in some drops of the dragon's blood by way of cement. The
head and trunk were scarcely placed together again, with the dragon's
blood between, than the ape bounded up as well as before, and just
as if nothing had been done to him; but, on the contrary, finding
himself the object of great attention, and excited by the shouts of
the people, he sprang and gambolled about from side to side with even
greater alacrity than his wont.
"Now, Sir Hunchback!" cried Zovanin, "it is your turn. You see it's
not very bad; so come along, and no more excuses."
"Go it, hunchback!" said the king; and all the people shouted, "The
hunchback's head! the hunchback's head!" with such vehemence that it
was evident there was no means of getting out of the trial. It was
true, Zovanin had proved he could put a head on again; but the jester
shrank from the cold steel nevertheless, and it was only with a look
which concentrated all his venom that he yielded himself up. Fearless
Johnny struck off his head in a trice, then threw it up high in the
air, as he had done the ape's, and then cemented it on again with
the dragon's blood as well as ever.
"Now for you!" screamed the hunchback, when he found his head back
in its right place once more.
Zovanin had no fear, but sat down on the ground instantly, so that
the hunchback might reach him more conveniently. "This is all you
have to do," he said: "take my sword in your two hands, and swing it
round across my throat. Then pour the contents of this vial over the
stump of the throat, and clap the head down on it again."
"Yes, yes! I think I ought to know how it's done, as well as you,"
answered the dwarf, hastily; and he swung the sword round with a will,
sending Johnny's head rolling at the king's feet. The people caught
it up and handed it round; and it might soon have got lost in the
crowd, but that the king shouted to them to bring it back, because he
wanted to see it stuck on again. So they gave it back to the jester,
and he smeared the rest of the dragon's blood over the stump of the
throat--but in putting the head on, took care to turn it the wrong
way, which, as he managed to bend over Johnny's recumbent body, no
one observed till he rose to his feet. Then all the people screeched,
and yelled, and shouted, so that John could not make out what was
the matter, but, getting angry, demanded his horse, that he might
ride away from them all.
The king ordered his horse to be brought, and Johnny sprang into the
saddle, and the cries of the people made the beast start away faster
even than Johnny himself wished; only Johnny could not make out why
he seemed to him, for all his urging, always to go backwards.
At last, he got quite away from the shouts of the people, into a
calm, quiet place, where there was a lake shut in by high hills,
which, with the mulberry-trees, and vines, and grassy slopes, were
all pictured in the lake's smooth face.
Zovanin was hot with his ride, and so was his mount; so he walked
him into the shallow water, while he himself dismounted, and bent
down to drink.
At the sight that met his gaze in the water, a shout burst from his
lips more terrible than the shouts of all the people. He gazed again,
and couldn't think what had befallen him; but, so horrified was he
at the sight of his own back where he was wont to see his breast,
that he fell down and died of fear on the spot! And thus Fear visited
him at last--in a way which would certainly never have occurred, if
the jester had put his head on again in the way nature designed for it.