Fig. 104.—"Deserted Nurseries Woven into Balls."Fig.104.—"Deserted Nurseries Woven into Balls."
Clearview and True told what they had seen, and urged all to guard against surprise. Their enemies were on the island. How many there were, or for what purpose they stayed, or where they might be, none knew. They were probably still in the eastern end, and would not at once annoy the Brownies, whose presence they could not suspect. Sentinels were posted toward the land side, and one lookout upon the shore.
So the morning passed, and the afternoon had nearly worn away. The fleets had not changed their positions. The Stygians still guarded the inlet, but the heavy davids mounted at the mouth thereof held them in check. Two or three Pixie vessels were slowly sailing down the north channel coasting along the island. There had been nosign of the Doubt's mysterious boat's crew. All was quiet. No chance yet to escape.
A squad under Help's command was sent out to forage. They had not been gone long when the little camp was aroused by an alarm from one of the sentinels. The Brownies sprang to arms, thinking that the Doubt's boat crew had attacked them. There was a sound as of feet trampling among ferns and grasses. Some one was approaching rapidly,—several persons evidently; and they were charging at full run upon the picket line.
"Stand!" cried the guard. "Who goes there?"
There was no reply. Then one of the sailors of Help's squad, and a second, and a third leaped from the underbrush, sprang by the sentinel regardless of his challenge, and ran into the midst of the camp. They were breathless, pale, trembling, terrified.
"Well," cried Blythe, "this is something new, truly! Full sized Brownies, and Natties at that, running like a frightened rabbit from a Pixie! Why, comrades, what has possessed you? Speak, can't you?" They could not speak. The poor fellows were so overcome that they had to sit down. Water was given them, and they revived.
"Come, now," said True firmly, "this has gone far enough. What is the cause of this?"
One of the three could just utter the single word—"Pipe!" The very name set the sailors shivering again with terror.
"This is most unaccountable!" exclaimed Blythe. "What do you mean, fellow? What about Pipe? Do you mean our poor boatswain who was lost this morning?"
"Yes—yes!" gasped the sailor. "We—have—seen—him! Oh, oh!" He uttered a cry as he spoke,jumped to his feet, threw up his arms, pointed toward the picket line and fell flat upon the grass.
All eyes turned in the direction of the poor fellow's hand. There stood Pipe the Boatswain! A chorus of mingled groans, shrieks and cries arose from the company. The sailors scattered into the ferns and bushes. The officers stood their ground, but there was not one among them who would not have run had he dared.
The figure slowly advanced. The eyes were sunken, the face pale, the hair hung damp and matted around the face and brow. The clothes were ragged and clung closely to the body. The eyes had, or seemed to have, an unnatural brightness. They were fixed steadily upon the officers. Step by step, nearer and nearer the figure came. But it spoke no word. There could be no mistake about it. It was Pipe the drowned boatswain!
Now Sergeant True, like most sensible persons, knew that if there were such things as ghosts they must be harmless creatures. He had often said that; and declared that he would like to meet a ghost. But if the truth were known, he would rather have been excused just then. However, he spoke at last.
"Speak! whatever you be! Spirit, ghost, or living flesh,—tell us what you are, and why you are come here!"
The figure stopped. A strange, familiar light played upon the pale face, and glimmered around the corner of the eyes. Then into the death-like silence the image spoke with a husky voice:
"Well, shipmates, this is a rather tough greeting on one's return from a long voyage! What's i' the wind, that you all run from your old comrade, and standstaring at me as though I were a ghost? Hey, my boy, don't you know Sophie's daddy?"
Fig. 105.—"A Colony of Youngling Orbweavers as Snugly Tented Under a Jack-in-the-Pulpit."Fig.105.—"A Colony of Youngling Orbweavers as Snugly Tented Under a Jack-in-the-Pulpit."
"Pipe, Pipe! it is Pipe himself!" exclaimed True, and he rushed forward and took the dear old sailor in his arms.
"There, there," said the boatswain, "that'll do for the present. Cast off grapnels, please, and save your hugging for some one who likes it better. Hello, you lubbers!"—addressing the sailors,—"get up, here! I'm ashamed of the cloth, I am. Yes, it's Pipe—who else? Want proof of it, do you?" The sailors were sitting upon the ground staring, dumb and incredulous, upon their old officer. "Well, here goes then. You know the sound of pipe to quarters, I'll be bound." So saying he put his whistle to his lips, and sounded the old familiar note.
It was enough. The frightened foragers rose and shook hands with Pipe. The scattered runaways came back. An eager crowd surrounded the boatswain to hear him explain this marvelous resurrection from the deep.
"Well, it's easily enough explained. Come to think of it now, I don't wonder that you took me for a ghost. In sooth, it is not often that a Brownie stays under water for a whole day, and comes up again, unless, may be, as a ghost."
"What! Under water a whole day?" cried Help. "You don't mean that seriously, do you?"
"Aye, aye, shipmate, that I do. It has not been half an hour since I left the depths of the lake there. I went down with the rest under the keel of that infernal old pot that the Pixies set afloat. I supposed my time had come at last. But no one seems to be willing to die even when his time has come; so you see, I struck out pretty lively, so as to get clear of the wreck and the drowning crews as I came up, and then allowed myself to rise. First thing I knew I was diving straight through the door of a water pixie's nest! You know there are some of those creatures who make a kind of hollow globe or diving bell under the water."
"Yes," said True eagerly, "the Argyroneta pixies."
"Aye, those are the fellows. Well, they stay and balance their nest with cables, which they fasten to stems of water plants; then they mount to the surface, catch a bubble of air in the little hairs of their legs and hands, sink with it and shoot it up into the nest. When it is filled they have a water-tight house filled with air, down in the very midst of the lake. It is a cunning thing even if it is made by a Pixie.
Fig. 106.—Pipe's Escape from the Water Pixie's Den.Fig.106.—Pipe's Escape from the Water Pixie's Den.
"Well there I was, snug and comfortable enough. The housekeeper didn't happen to be at home, and I had full possession of the premises. I couldn't make up my mind what to do. Of course, I knew that I couldn't stay there always; but I feared to crawl out and mount to the surface. Either way my chance seemed pretty slim for life. I concluded to wait a while anyhow, and stretched myself upon a sort of web hammock that hung from the sides. I looked every moment for the landlady to report, and loosened my knife to welcomeher home. However, she didn't come, and after a long waiting I fell asleep. How long I slept I don't know. I was aroused by a slight swaying of the diving bell nest. The proprietor was coming in, sure as the world! She was already half way through the port-hole. I clutched my knife and got ready to cut away. But a thought struck me. Think's I, can't I lay hold of the old lady, and get her to tow me out of this, and may be ashore? I put my knife between my teeth and waited quietly until Mrs. Argyroneta had got fairly into her cabin. Then I leaped from my hammock, grabbed her by a hind leg, and yelled at the top of my lungs. Whew! you ought to have seen that Pixie get. She turned and made through the port, mounted to the surface, and flew across it like the flying Dutchman. I found it a little hard to hold on to her leg. But the creature had cast out of her spinnerets a good stout cable as she turned to leave her nest, which I seized with both hands.[AV]
The Boy's Illustration. Fig. 107.—Pipe and the Pixie.The Boy's Illustration.Fig.107.—Pipe and the Pixie.
"I should hate to say how many knots an hour we rated. The Pixie went so fast that my head was kept above water by the swiftness of the motion. She made straight for the island, and upon my word, I believe she would have towed me clear ashore if it hadn't been for an accident. In doubling the edge of a cluster of water lilies my tug struck a snag and capsized. The rope slackened and I had to swim for it. Mrs. Argyroneta dived. Not relishing a second journey to the bottom of the lake, I cut the cable with my knife and clambered on top of a lily leaf. After some trouble I managed to cut the leaf loose, and as the wind and current set in toward the island, I drifted ashore just below here. I had scarcely landed when I met these hearties here, who broke off into the woods at a livelier rate than even my Pixie tug had made. That is the whole of my yarn. And now if you please, give me something to eat for I'm mortal hungry."
"What became of your Pixie?" asked Blythe.
"Never saw her after she dived," returned Pipe. "I reckon she's going yet, for a worse scared creature, barring these three Jacks of ours, of course, I never saw. But, come comrades, here I have been spinning my yarn about my own miserable carcass, and all the time have heard nothing of the fleet. To tell the truth, I've been afraid to ask. But let me know the worst, all of it, while the cooks are getting supper ready."
The story was soon told. The good sailor was glad to find affairs had gone no worse. His joy over the ignoble end of the Pixie monitor was particularly keen.
"Humph!" he said, "just what I thought. A lubberly old pot! And any seaman that would sail in such an affair deserves no better fate than to be sent to the bottom by a dragoon's cutlass."
FOOTNOTES:[AV]Appendix,Note A.
[AV]Appendix,Note A.
[AV]Appendix,Note A.
THE WISDOM OF THE PIXIES.
In the meantime how fared it with Faith and Sophia? The hours of captivity dragged wearily along. The nagging and petty annoyance of their keeper were hard to bear, but their chief dread was the coming of Spite and Hide. They knew nothing of passing events, for not a creature had been seen or heard since Spite and Raft left, except Tigrina. In the depths of that Pixie cave they were shut off from the upper world, and their grim and vigilant guardian kept them strictly to their rooms.
They had no heart at first to note the furnishings of their prison. But as time passed their spirits somewhat rallied. They began to observe the things around them, which were wrought with exquisite taste and skill. Tapestry, carpets, sofas, cushions, stools, couches all were woven of silk. There were pictures and statuary, books and portfolios bound elegantly in yellow, purple and white silk, and illuminated with gold, bronze and divers colors.[AW]The Nurses wandered from one to another of these objects, which compelled their admiration and interest. The works of art were exquisitely done.
Many of the books, the maidens noticed, treated of natural objects, laws, forces, and phenomena. The wonders of air, earth, and sea were told and illustrated in many volumes. Faith and Sophia were much interested in these. Their fondness for Nature was great, andthe books and prints which lay around them in such wealth well nigh beguiled their thoughts from their griefs.
"Look at this, Sophie," cried Faith, who had just happened upon a rare volume rich in the arts of type, graver and brush. It lay by itself on a circular stand, as one sometimes sees a costly family Bible in American homes. It was plainly one of the treasures of Arachne Hall. Sophia came to her friend's side and bent over the title page which read thus:
"The Wisdom of the Pixies.
TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL OF THE LAWS OF PLUTO, AND THE WISE SAYINGS OF THE SAGES OF PIXIELAND.
Anno Mundi;....MM....,....MDCCC."
"The Wisdom of the Pixies!" exclaimed Sophia. "That must be a curious book indeed. I never knew before that our wicked enemies professed to have a sacred book, or held to any religious notions at all. I am anxious to know what these laws of Pluto may be. Turn over the page, Faith."
"I am trying to make out this date," answered Faith. "The numerals have been erased; they appear to have been written several times, amended again and again, and finally left in this uncertain condition."
"That is just it, Faith. Observe that for the common date, 'Anno Domini—year of our Lord,' has been placed 'Anno Mundi—year of the World.' It is hard for a Pixie to acknowledge in any way the Blessed Author of Salvation to Men. Let me see!—M stands for one thousand; M, M for two thousand; the bar over the top means a thousand also.Mis one thousand thousand,M,Mtwo thousand thousand, and just thereis a gap. The other legible figures count up eighteen hundred. That is all I can make out; but I suppose the Pixies mean to say that the world is a good many thousand times two hundred thousand years old! Do you believe it?"
"That's a ripe old age, Sophie," said Faith, "and I neither believe nor disbelieve. How can one tell? Our fathers only say that 'in the beginning,' whenever that was, the world was made. But the further back one can trace the being of the earth by established facts, just so much further can we 'walk by sight' into the Eternity whose sovereign Lord we receive by faith."
"True enough," replied Sophia, "the question interests me as a matter of fact simply. As a matter of religion, I suppose it has little value. At least, I have so heard the good minister Dr. Comingo say in conversation with Governor Wille. But turn the page, please!"
Faith turned the leaves of the book, reading aloud the titles of the chapters. Now and then she stopped, read a sentence or two, commented upon the sentiment, and contrasted it with the good, pure, unselfish laws of Brownieland. Our story need not be burdened with much of what Faith and Sophia saw in the "Wisdom of the Pixies," but some of our older readers will be curious to have a few extracts. Here they are, with the headings or titles of the chapters given, for the most part:
Chapter I. On the First and Great Law—Take Care of Number One.... Chapter II. On the Chief End of Life—Eat, Drink and be Merry, for To-morrow You Die.... Chapter IX. The End Justifies the Means.... Chapter X. On Attaining One's End: By Fair Means if You Can, by Foul Means if You Must.... Chapter XV. Showing That an Individual Cannot Wrong a Corporation—On the Right of Corporations toPlunder the People.... Chapter XVI. Showing That it Cannot be Wrong to Rob a Government.... Chapter XVII. Showing That Since the World Loves to be "Humbugged," it is Quite Lawful to Gratify it, for One's Own Advantage.... Chapter XXXV. Is Man an Automaton?
"Why, what a strange notion!" cried Sophie. "What sage starts that question?"
"It appears to be some Chinese sage whose sentiments are quoted, if I may judge by the name—Hoox Lee."
"And what has he to say about it?"
"Well, there is a good deal. Here's a section on the 'Evidence of Transmitted Peculiarities' that starts out thus: Every one has noted the interest that the young of the human species take in dolls, marionettes, and exhibitions of such figures as the famous Punch and Judy, and Mrs. Jarley's wax works. This is a universal characteristic. Whence does it arise? Why should this instinctive sympathy of children with Automata and their clumsy tricks, be so deep-seated and wide-spread? Evidently here is a fact which the wise and candid philosopher should ponder. Here, it may be, is a thread by which we may traverse the labyrinth of man's mysterious nature. The deduction cannot well be resisted, that this natural and inwrought sympathy with the Automaton, in all its varying forms, is owing to the kinship of man himself with the Simian."
"Oh, that will do!" exclaimed Sophia breaking short the sentence. "That certainly is quite as funny as the Punch and Judy which Governor Wille had shown at his children's party, last Thanksgiving Day. But is Mr. Hoox Lee in earnest do you think?"
"He seems to be," answered Faith, joining in withSophia's quiet laughter. "But here is the next chapter." Chapter XL. To be Found Out is the Essence of Wrong.
"Turn on!"
Chapter XLIII. The Pleasure and Security of Drinking Liquors in Moderation.... Chapter XLIX. Wine and Beer Drinking the Sovereign Remedy for Drunkenness.... Chapter L. On the Origin of the Universe.
"Ah! What has the sage to say on that point?" asked Sophia.
"Far too much to read now. This seems to be a favorite theme with the sages; there are a great many pages. Here is the opening section: 'According to the sacred writings of the Pundits of India, a certain immense spider was the origin, the first cause of all things. This spider drawing the matter from its own bowels, wove the web of this universe, and disposed it with wonderful art. She, in the meantime sitting in the centre of her work, feels and directs the motions of every part, till at length, when she has pleased herself sufficiently in ordering and contemplating this web, she draws again into herself all the threads she had spun out and, having absorbed them, the universal nature of all creatures vanishes into nothing.'"
"Dear me," said Sophia, "how very like that is to the 'nebular theory' that we heard the Professor discussing one evening with Governor Wille on the great porch. But pray, whence came the spider? Who made her? I wonder the sages didn't think of that question?"
Faith resumed the reading: "The natives of Guinea believe that the first man was created by a large black spider which is so common in their country, and is called in their jargon 'Ananse.'"
"Now, that is too bad!" said Sophia once more interrupting the reading. "I could believe that the Pixies came that way, but to say that men were so made! But that is the way with the sages of unbelief. They had rather think the universe to have been spun out of the spinnerets of a big black spider, than admit that in the beginning the Holy God made all things."
Faith made no answer, but stood silently turning over the leaves. The silence was broken by a sound that startled the Nurses, and struck terror into their hearts. We must go back to the Brownie's island camp in order to explain this sudden interruption.
FOOTNOTES:[AW]Appendix,Note A.
[AW]Appendix,Note A.
[AW]Appendix,Note A.
BLYTHE'S FLUTE.
Despite their position the wrecked Brownies were in good spirits. The restoration of Pipe had taken a load off their hearts. The reaction was so great, after their grief and the certainty of his loss, that low spirits vanished from the camp. The boatswain's resurrection seemed an omen of good fortune. The cheer that filled all hearts bubbled over in song, laughter, merry tale and joke. But as the Brownies feared to attract the attention of the Doubt's crew who were yet on the island, they kept the sound of their merrymaking within bounds of their picket lines.
Blythe added much to the enjoyment of the occasion. By some rare chance, as he was setting out for the fleet in the morning, he had flung over his shoulder his flute box, which he often carried in a little case something after the manner of a field glass. It had clung to him when the Ken's boat went down, and there was the flute, ready to swell the joy of the bivouac. Blythe was quite in the spirit to play, and all hearts were in tune to listen.
Again and again the notes of the sweet instrument murmured among the overhanging branches. Camp tunes, battle tunes, love tunes, home tunes—the hearts of the Brownies were stirred by turns with tender, pathetic, sad or fond emotions as the well known strains fell upon their ears.
"Come, lads," cried Pipe, "cannot we have a song?"
"Aye, aye, a song, a song!" was called from all sides.
"What shall it be?" asked Blythe. "I will gladly accompany Captain Clearview here, who is an excellent singer. Captain, what say you? Shall we have 'Woodmen, Boatmen, Sailors and Horsemen?' The lads like that and can join in the chorus."
"Play away!" said Clearview, and at the proper note he struck in and sang the following song, in the refrain of which all the company joined:
THE BROWNIES' NATIONAL SONG.
O MERRY AND FREE!ORWOODMEN, BOATMEN, SAILORS AND HORSEMEN.
I.O merry and free,'Neath the wildwood tree,Are the Woodmen of Brownieland, bonnie and dee;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!In the breeze there is balm,In the sky there is calm,Each sound in the wood is the voice of a psalm;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!
I.O merry and free,'Neath the wildwood tree,Are the Woodmen of Brownieland, bonnie and dee;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!In the breeze there is balm,In the sky there is calm,Each sound in the wood is the voice of a psalm;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!
O merry and free,'Neath the wildwood tree,Are the Woodmen of Brownieland, bonnie and dee;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!In the breeze there is balm,In the sky there is calm,Each sound in the wood is the voice of a psalm;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!
II.O merry and free,On the lake and lea,Are the Boatmen of Brownieland, bonnie and dee;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!For the trout's rushing leap,And the water-fowl's sweep,With the paddle's soft dip sweet harmony keep;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!
II.O merry and free,On the lake and lea,Are the Boatmen of Brownieland, bonnie and dee;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!For the trout's rushing leap,And the water-fowl's sweep,With the paddle's soft dip sweet harmony keep;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!
O merry and free,On the lake and lea,Are the Boatmen of Brownieland, bonnie and dee;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!For the trout's rushing leap,And the water-fowl's sweep,With the paddle's soft dip sweet harmony keep;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!
III.O merry and free,On the wrinkled sea,Are the sailors of Brownieland, bonnie and dee;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!For the creaking of sail,And the sough of the gale,And splashing of waves, are the songs that ne'er fail;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!
III.O merry and free,On the wrinkled sea,Are the sailors of Brownieland, bonnie and dee;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!For the creaking of sail,And the sough of the gale,And splashing of waves, are the songs that ne'er fail;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!
O merry and free,On the wrinkled sea,Are the sailors of Brownieland, bonnie and dee;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!For the creaking of sail,And the sough of the gale,And splashing of waves, are the songs that ne'er fail;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!
IV.O merry and free,Over hill and lea,Are the troopers of Brownieland, bonnie and dee;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!It is pleasure indeed,To be one with the steedIn his strength, and thrill with the rhythm of speed;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!
IV.O merry and free,Over hill and lea,Are the troopers of Brownieland, bonnie and dee;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!It is pleasure indeed,To be one with the steedIn his strength, and thrill with the rhythm of speed;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!
O merry and free,Over hill and lea,Are the troopers of Brownieland, bonnie and dee;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!It is pleasure indeed,To be one with the steedIn his strength, and thrill with the rhythm of speed;Too—ra—lah, too—ra—loo, too—ra—lay!
"Hist—st!"
The sharp prolonged sibilant that broke in upon their applause and caused instant silence, was uttered by Sergeant True. He advanced into the circle with his hand raised warningly.
"Hist! Quiet all!—except you, Blythe. Keep on with your music. Play some of your softest airs, and play until I bid you stop. As for the rest of you, I charge you, for your lives, not to speak or move until you hear from me. No matter what you see—perfect silence, remember!"
He stepped back again into the bushes and was hidden from sight. What could the strange interruption mean? The Brownies were all alive with keen curiosity. Was the Sergeant in a merry humor, and planning some trick upon the party? They suspected that. But it was not much after True's habit to do such a thing. Besides, his manner betokened unusual earnestness. Therefore, all sat still, looking into the bushes whither True had disappeared. The Adjutant promptly fell into his friend's plan. He obeyed orders, played away and waited.
"Hist! look up! But don't stop the music, and don't stir!" said True in a low voice.
All eyes turned upward. A faint rustling among the branches directed the party's gaze to the point of interest. A quaint old hag of a Pixie was slowly crawlingalong the twig above Blythe's head. It was our acquaintance, Dame Tigrina!
The Boy's Illustration. Fig. 108.—Blythe's Flute Charms Tigrina.The Boy's Illustration.Fig.108.—Blythe's Flute Charms Tigrina.
Blythe's heart fluttered a little, it must be confessed. It really seemed that the grim creature was preparing to pounce upon him. See! she is just above the musician's head. She has fastened a cable to the branch and is slowly lowering herself toward the ground. There was a slight quaver in the notes of the flute that could not be credited wholly to the performer's intention. Yet, he behaved with wonderful coolness and courage. The music went on; not a false note, not a pause, while the Pixie was gradually lowering herself toward the ground.
When about one-third of the descent had been made, Tigrina paused and sat quite still. She was listening to the music, not foraging for victims! Blythe's flute had charmed her forth from her cell. There she hung in mid air indulging her fondness for sweet sounds. Who would have thought it of the old hag? However, it would perhaps be well to mention that it has frequently been reported that some Pixies are strangely sensitive to music.[AX]
True's conduct was now explained. He had caught a glimpse of the Pixinee when she first left her hall, but had not been able to mark the spot from which she came. When the singing stopped and the applause began, Tigrina retreated so rapidly and stealthily that the Sergeant again failed to note the door of her cave, but saw the general direction and neighborhood thereof. He thought that if Blythe would repeat the music it would charm the old creature forth once more, and so it proved.
From his blind in the bushes he saw the cave door slowly open, and marked the spot. He saw the Pixinee peep here and there, then, satisfied that the coast was clear, return to her place above the musician, where she hung and listened as before.
True had gained his point. He did not indeed understand how near he was to his heart's great desire. But he had thought it probable that Faith and Sophia might be hidden on the island in some of the Pixie dens, and at once resolved to follow up this fortunate incident in hope that it might give a clew to a more important discovery. He quietly left his hiding place, planted himself before the spot whence Tigrina had come, and drew his battle axe.
"Hist!" The sound directed the Brownies' attention toward him. "Close in around me when I call. Don't move before that. Now, Blythe,—stop!"
The music ceased. No one stirred for a moment or two; then Tigrina, as though persuaded that the performance had ended, scampered up the cable from which she hung, and hurried off toward her cave.
"Close up!" ordered True.
The company rushed forward and surrounded the Sergeant, who now stood with axe poised, face to face with the Pixinee. Tigrina was in the act of springing upon True. Her claws were outstretched, her eyes were ablaze with excitement, and in the greatness of her wrath her fangs clattered against each other.
As the Brownies closed the circle about her, she started, and cast a quick, terrified glance around her. Then her whole visage changed; the arms fell to her side; her face dropped upon her chest; her limbs relaxed; the eyes became glassy and fixed; she suddenly sank to the ground and lay rigid and motionless.
True lowered his axe. An exclamation of surprise broke from the group.
"Is she dead?" asked several at once.
Pipe stepped to Tigrina's side and cautiously turned her body with his foot.
"'Pon my honor," he said, "I do believe the old witch has burst a blood-vessel, or had an attack of apoplexy. She's dead as a mackerel."
"It does seem so, indeed," remarked True, who had also examined the body. "There is every sign of death, beyond doubt. For my part I don't wonder, for I never saw such a swift and terrible change in any living creature as came over this one."
"Come," said Clearview, "let me try an experiment.I know something more of the tricks of these Pixies than you. They can beat the 'possums at feigning death. Now, I venture that Madame here is as alive and awake as any of you. Stand back a little. We shall see. Bring me a cord."
A stout cord was brought by one of the sailors. Clearview approached cautiously, and looped the rope around all the Pixinee's limbs except one arm. During all this there was no sign of life.
"Hand me your axe, Sergeant." The weapon was passed to him. "Observe now," continued Clearview, "that I intend to strike just where that claw lies. If the creature is dead it will not hurt her to have it chopped off."
Fig. 109.—Attitudes of Spiders when Feigning Death.Fig.109.—Attitudes of Spiders when Feigning Death.
He lifted the axe deliberately, and struck directly at the unbound arm which was stretched out motionless upon the grass. The blade sank into the ground! The claw had been removed by a quick motion as the axe fell.
"Phew——ew!" said Pipe, drawing a long breath. "Talk about wonders of the stage! That acting beats Charlotte Cushman all hollow."[AY]
A burst of merriment broke from the circle of astonished and amused Brownies, in the midst of which Tigrina slowly raised her body from the ground, and sat up looking around upon her captors, quite crestfallen.
"Well," she said at last, "now you have me, what'll you do with me?"
The Brownie officers held a brief, whispered consultation. Then the boatswain addressed Tigrina.
"Old woman, we shall exchange few words with you. You know well that your life in ordinary circumstances wouldn't be worth a salt herring. But you've just one chance for it. I have lost a daughter. She was carried off with one of her companions by some of your people. We have found no trace of the maidens yet. If you can tell anything that shall lead to their discovery, your life shall be spared. If not, you die instantly."
Tigrina sat with eyes fixed upon the ground. Her face had a stubborn cast that showed indifference to life, or determination to yield nothing for the sake of saving it. She remained silent.
"Well," continued the boatswain, "have you nothing to say? Do you know anything? Speak out. You shall find us true to our word, as Brownies always are."
"For Heaven's sake," cried Blythe impatiently, "if you can put us on the track of our lost friends, do so! You shall not only have your life, but whatever besides—"
"Hah! What interest have you in the silly things?" asked Tigrina looking up quickly. Her whole manner had changed at the first sound of his voice. Her eyes dropped slowly from the Adjutant's face to the flute which he still held in his hands, and there remained fixed.
"I have a deep and tender interest in one of them," exclaimed Blythe. "And I pledge you my word, with the boatswain, to stand between you and death if you will tell us where we can find Faith and Sophia."
There was a moment's silence, so profound that one might almost have heard his neighbor's heart beat as the Brownies awaited the Pixinee's answer. The fate oftheir beloved Nurses seemed to hang upon her lips. Tigrina at last broke the silence:
"You will give me my life?" she said.
"Yes!" cried a score of eager voices.
"And set me free?"
"Aye, aye!" was the hearty chorus.
"And give me—that?" continued Tigrina, pointing her hairy claw toward the flute in Blythe's hand.
"It is yours!" cried the Adjutant, flinging the instrument into the Pixinee's lap.
Tigrina clutched it eagerly, turned it over and over, as a child would a new toy, looked into it, touched the keys, put it to her ears and listened, then laid it down upon her lap and gazed at it with childish fondness. All this time the Brownies looked on impatiently, but not inclined to interfere.
"Hah!" exclaimed Tigrina, "and will it sing for me, too? Pretty bird! Sing, sing!" she said as she fondled the flute tenderly.
"Come, come, old lady," cried Pipe at last. "Be done with this nonsense! Remember that neither life, freedom, nor the flute are yours until you keep your part of the bargain. So hurry up."
Tigrina looked up again with the old fierce, sullen face. "Ugh! To be sure. Well, gentlemen, I have sworn not to tell any one where the fairies are. But that big officer yonder—," she cast a savage glance at True, "knows where I live, I reckon. There's nothing to hinder you from following up what you have already found out yourselves, is there?"
A cry of joy arose from the party at these words. The hint was taken at once. What news! Faith and Sophia were found at last! Hurrah!
Pipe turned eagerly upon Sergeant True.
"The door, the door!" he cried, "where is the door of the old hag's cave?"
Blythe sprang forward, grasped Tigrina by the arm until she fairly winced under the pressure, and exclaimed, "are they alive?—are they safe? Speak!"
"Both!" was the answer.
The cool, clear voice of Captain Clearview broke in upon the excitement. "Come, my friends, this is not wise. You are giving way to hopes that may be dashed from you. What have you to rely upon for them all? The word of an old Pixinee condemned to death. I think she has spoken truly. But let us make sure before we show our joy. First of all, take that flute from her and bind her arms securely. We will take her with us into the cave. If she has not deceived us we will be true to her. If this is all mockery and deceit—" There was no need to finish the sentence.
By this time Pipe, True and Blythe had the mossy door of the cave pushed open. They entered the silk lined vestibule, and saw the tunnel sloping away into the hill until lost in the darkness.
"A ladder and lanterns!" cried Pipe. "Haste—away!"
"Aye, aye, Sir!" answered a half dozen hearty voices. The sailors flew to the boat, and soon returned with a rope ladder and several fox-fire lanterns.
"Are we all ready?" asked True.
"Ready!"
"Come on then! and God speed the search!"
He stepped into the mouth of the cave bearing aloft one of the lights. Pipe and Blythe followed. Then came Clearview and Help leading Dame Tigrina. Several sailors brought up the rear of the party. The remainder of the crew kept guard at the entrance.
"Hark!" The word fell from the lips of both the imprisoned Nurses at once. There was a sound as of the wind blowing through the long tunneled hall that led into their room. It came nearer. It grew louder. The maidens stood still straining every nerve to resolve the meaning of the strange noises. There could be no doubt, at last, that it was the sound of approaching footsteps, mingled with voices.
"O Sophie, it is Spite the Spy!"
"O Faith, the Pixie chiefs have returned!"
With a cry of anguish they threw themselves into each other's arms. In this movement the stand bearing the "Book of the Wisdom of the Pixies" was overturned, and with a great racket fell to the floor. The large volume opened its folios as it fell, and lay spread out upon its face under the stand.
The scream of the Nurses and the crash of the stand were answered by a cry from without. The curtain door of the chamber was rent aside, and Sergeant True bearing aloft his fox-fire torch entered. Ere he could utter a word the boatswain darted past him. Sophia had sprung forward at the first vision of her lover, and found herself clasped in her father's arms! Faith had fallen upon her knees. The drapery of her gown streamed backward partially covering the gilt and silken bindings of the Pixies' Book of Unbelief. The hands of the kneeling Nurse, just as they were outstretched toward Heaven, were clasped in the fervent grasp of Adjutant Blythe, who in a moment was kneeling at Faith's side.
It was a striking and tender scene—the kneeling figures of Blythe and Faith; Sophia fast locked in her father's embrace; True standing nearby, the central figure of the group, holding his torch aloft, gazing uponhis betrothed with joy and fondness shining through the tears upon his cheek. Crowded in the door and just within the room, were the other members of the searching party, in the midst of whom stood Tigrina casting alternate looks of anger upon the Brownies, and desire upon the flute which had fallen from Blythe's hand and rolled quite near her.
Why should we dwell upon what followed? The mutual greetings, the quick exchange of experiences, the outbreak of emotion, joy, gratitude, love—these are better left to the reader's imagination. One may be certain, however, that the party did not long stay inside the Pixie's cave. To be sure, it was a snug place, and would have been quite safe, and no doubt more comfortable to the Nurses than the rude accommodations of the Brownie bivouac outside. But the very sight of Aranea Hall, even with all its beautiful furnishings, was hateful to them. They insisted upon going away from the place with all haste.
"It is a prison, a miserable prison, however much it may be decked like a palace," exclaimed Faith. "Let us out of it, immediately!"
"Aye," said Sophia, "with all its silken tapestry, carpets, and couches it is a den of Pixies, a loathsome, dismal dungeon. Take us out of it, take us quickly!"
The happy company returned along the tunnel, and mounted to upper air. A second greeting awaited the rescued fairies from the party that guarded the entrance. The boisterous joy of the Brownie sailors could hardly be restrained. But an urgent warning of the danger that might be called down upon their newly found loved ones, by discovering their presence to the Doubters on the island, kept the outbreaking happiness within bounds.
The Brownies were true to Tigrina and left her safewithin the cave in possession of the coveted flute. But they fastened the cavern door and mounted a guard over it. Then a shelter was provided for the Nurses. As willing hands and happy hearts make light work, the night was not far gone ere a tent of leaves was built. Tired out with excitement Faith and Sophia were quite ready to retire when all was prepared for them. How happy, happy, happy they were as they lay down to sleep in each other's arms! Their joy rippled over their lips in whispered congratulations and thanks, and bubbled forth in grateful tears. Then soft deep sleep, the sleep of the good and happy stole gently upon them.
It was long before the Brownie sailors settled to sleep. Weary as they were, the wish to hear the story of the capture and imprisonment of the Nurses, was stronger than the need of rest. Thus, Pipe, True, and Blythe, to whom the particulars had been told, had to tell them over and over again. At length all were satisfied; the sentinels were stationed, the reliefs appointed, and sleep fell upon the little camp.