"There's an Old Man," said Robert to Freddie. "He lives on the mountain. I saw him once."
They were sitting on the palace lawn, looking up at the mountain which rose behind the King's tower. The sun was directly overhead, and was accordingly hidden by the cloud. The lower slopes of the mountain were easy and gradual, but they grew steeper as they ascended, and at the point where the mountain entered the cloud it was a straight and smooth wall of granite, plainly impossible to climb. The King's eldest child fixed his big eyes on the tall young man beside him.
"I like you," said he. "I wish you would take me up the mountain some time for blackberries. Will you?"
"If the Queen permits," said Freddie, "we will go tomorrow."
A long time had passed since the Queen's return; a happy time, during which the five who had come with the Queen were made to feel as if they had lived all their lives in a palace. The two Old Codgers were found by Toby, comfortably established in a double shop of their own, on one side of which the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg sold tobacco, and on the other side of which the Sly Old Fox sold jewelry; each of them entirely contented with his fortune, and settled down for life. The Third Vice-Presidenthad paid his respects at the palace, and was unable to talk of anything but his Museum, for which he was devising many plans, including a method whereby the late Mr. Matthew Speak might be assured against ever being blown out of the window.
The saintly person who had once been the Churchwarden was occupied nowadays, in a little room in the basement of the palace, in copying in beautiful letters an ancient book belonging to the King.
Mr. Punch and Mr. Toby spent their time in exploring the city, arm in arm, very inquisitive, very talkative, and making friends with everybody.
Mr. Hanlon's work in life was, it appeared, the climbing of the King's Tower. Every day he disappeared within, and every day he declared that he would mount to the top before he finished; but he had not yet got to the top, and there did not seem much prospect of his ever doing so.
As for Freddie,—not that he was called Freddie now; the King had given him a high-sounding name,—the Chevalier Frederick; and by that name he was spoken of by everybody, except that Toby sometimes forgot and called him the Chandelier. As for the Chevalier Frederick, his interest was mainly in the Queen's three children, Robert, Genevieve, and James; and at the present moment the oldest, Robert, was sitting with the Chevalier on the palace lawn, gossiping.
"We will go tomorrow," the Chevalier was saying, and then the little boy Robert went on about the old man he had seen on the mountain.
"I saw him once," said Robert. "Just before Mother went away. I ran away from home, I did, and I was gone all day. Mother was terribly worried. I ran away to the mountain, and I was muddy all over when I got back, and it was dark, too! Mother was terribly worried. I was gone all day, I was; and I didn't get back until after dark, I didn't; and I was muddyall over. Oh, but it was dark. Mother, she was terribly worried." He stopped to think it over, and then went on again. "There wasn't any Tower then. It was just before the old chap came and built the Tower in a night; you know about that, don't you? I ran away and didn't come home until after dark, I didn't; Mother was worried; and Jenny—I never call her Genevieve, because Jenny's shorter—and Jenny wouldn't go because she was afraid, and James was too little, so I went all by myself; and it was getting pretty dark, and I was starting home down the mountain, because I knew Mother would be worried, and I saw the Old Man coming down the mountain, and he didn't see me, and he had a pack on his back and a long stick in his hand, and a gown belted in about the middle, and he was kind of fat and bald-headed; and he didn't see me but I saw him, and pretty soon he went down into a gully and I didn't see him any more, and I came on home, because it was getting dark, and I knew Mother would be worried."
"Then perhaps we had better not go up there," said Freddie.
"Oh no," said Robert. "It's a grand place to climb and gather berries and flowers. And I'd like to see the Old Man again. Will you take me there today?"
"Tomorrow," said Freddie, "if the Queen will permit."
At this moment Mr. Hanlon appeared, somewhat out of breath, and he and Freddie went into the palace together. He was quite jubilant.
"Faith," said he, "'tis a tower indade, that tower, and a swate little bit of a journey to the top of it, if there's iver a top at all. But it's Michael Hanlon will do it, by the bones of St. Patrick, and don't ye forget what I'm tellin' ye, me b'y. I've been up there this day, so high, so high—! I'll niver tell ye how high. It's comin' better; me wind and me legsare better; in a wake, or two wakes, 'tis meself will be fit for the grand ascent, and then there'll be news from the top, and a proud look in the eye of Michael Hanlon, Esquire! Wait and see, me b'y!"
The next morning, Queen Miranda having given her consent, Freddie and Robert left the palace for their day on the mountain. All day they wandered up the trails, and in the afternoon, when their luncheon was all gone and they were tired, they began to descend. It was growing dark; they had had a glorious day, and they were sorry it would soon be over. They stretched themselves on the ground beneath a mountain oak, and looked below them, past the Tower, across the roof of the palace to the city. There was no living thing in sight, except a bird which sailed across their view and disappeared. "Well, Robert," said Freddie, "I suppose the Old Man who used to be here is gone. Come; we must go; your mother will be worried."
They got to their feet. As they did so, a kind of groan startled them. They listened. It came again, from some point near by. Freddie thought he could make out a weak human voice, trying to call for help. Drawing Robert after him, he climbed over a number of boulders and mounted to the top of a rise in the ground, and looked down into a deep gully, covered on its sides with rocks and bushes. What he saw there gave him a start of alarm.
At the bottom was an old man, lying on his back, with one leg doubled under him, his face up to the sky. From his lips came a groan, followed by a faint cry for help. His head was bald, he was rather stout, he wore a long white beard, and he was clad in a short dark gown, belted about the middle. His legs were bare, and on the foot which was visible he wore a sandal.
Robert looked over Freddie's shoulder, and whisperedin his ear. "That's him! He's fallen down and hurt himself."
It was true. The old man had evidently fallen, and he was plainly suffering. Freddie clambered down to him, and knelt beside him. The old man looked into the young man's eyes, and said, in a feeble whisper:
"My leg. Broken. Help me home."
Freddie assisted him into a sitting position, and then lifted him up and held him.
"I cannot walk," said the old man. "Unless you can carry me, I must die here."
Freddie was properly proud of his new strength, and he believed that he could carry the old man.
"Where do you live?" said he.
"Up the mountain. I will show you. I beg you to carry me home."
"I will do my best," said Freddie.
He turned his back to the old man, and supporting him at the same time put the old man's arms about his neck, and by a great effort got the poor creature on his back. Carrying him thus, he began to go haltingly up the side of the gully. The little boy watched them wonderingly.
It was a terrible journey. The old man directed Freddie from moment to moment, and the way led steadily up the mountain, by a course which Freddie had not seen that day. The burden on Freddie's back became heavier and heavier; he panted harder and harder under it; he stumbled from time to time, and every instant told himself that he could go no further. The old man seemed to think of nothing but of getting home. The little boy followed, staring with big eyes.
Freddie had gone but a short way up the mountain-side when he felt through all his back, where it touched the old man, a chill; his shoulders and throat, where the arms of the old man touched them, becamecold; as he struggled on, the chill increased; he felt as if he were hugging to his back a burden of ice.
"Are we nearly there?" he asked, trying to wipe a cold perspiration from his forehead.
"No, no," said the old man. "Go on. A long way yet. You can't be tired so soon."
The cold upon Freddie's back and shoulders and throat became a dead numbness; he was too cold to shiver; his arms too were now becoming numb, and he felt that he could hold his burden no longer. He stopped.
"I must put you down," he said. "I must rest a moment. I don't know what makes me so cold."
"No, no," said the old man. "Too soon! too soon! Keep on!"
"I cannot," said Freddie. "I am freezing. My strength is gone. I must rest."
With these words he let the old man carefully down, and laid him on the ground. He stood there panting and rubbing his frozen hands together.
"Stupid weakling," said the old man, staring up at him, "go and search upon the mountain-side and bring me hither seeds of the fennel which you will there find, and be quick; for I perish."
Freddie and the little boy hastened away together, and at a distance on the mountain-side found, after a long search, a few plants of the fennel, with which they hurried back to the old man.
He was gone.
They looked far and near; they examined every nook and cranny; the mountain was steep at this point, and difficult for any sound man; for an old man, crippled, it seemed impossible, but he was nowhere to be found; he was gone.
Freddie and Robert turned homeward, and made hard work of it. The little boy became extremely heated with his labor; but Freddie remained as coldas ever. It is true that he perspired, but the beads upon his forehead were like the beads upon ice-cold glass. His hands were so numb that when he cut them slightly on a rock he felt no pain. His back, where the old man had clung to it with his body, was coldest of all; he was so stiff that he could scarcely bend his arms or body; many times the little boy had to help him down; the chill spread; at the foot of the mountain his legs were nearly as cold as his arms; when they passed the Tower, his knees were as if frozen, and would not bend; the little boy put his arm about him and tried to help him walk; he began to lose knowledge of his whereabouts; he held out a stiff arm before him, like a blind man, and dragged one foot after the other like a man whose legs are made of stone. The little boy, weeping to himself, took his icy outstretched hand, and led him home.
The palace door was thrown open. The little boy rushed in with a cry, and turned around to his companion. The white-faced rigid creature which was Freddie stood in the doorway, staring vacantly, and fell slowly forward on its face upon the floor.
Freddie was very ill. He was so ill that after a week the King gave up all hope, and believed he would die. The Queen wept bitterly; she scarcely left his side; at night she did not sleep for weeping, and by day she sat by his bed and watched his cold white face. His friends were not allowed to see him, and of these it appeared that Mr. Hanlon had been gone for some days up the Tower.
All that the best doctors in the city could do had been done, but the Chevalier was no better. He lay under the blankets, cold as ice and motionless as stone; and his eyes, big round eyes like the eyes of a child, stared up strangely out of deep sockets. They looked up at the King, who was bending down over the bed and smiling encouragingly. The Queen and her three children, Robert, Genevieve, and James, were standing close by, but they could not smile.
"Come, Chevalier," said the King, "you will be well soon, I am sure."
A faint voice came from the pale lips; not the voice of a grown man, but the voice of a child.
"That isn't my name," it said, "my name is—Fweddie."
The King went away, and took his children with him; and after they had gone the Queen heard the childish voice again from the bed.
"I want to see Aunt Amanda."
The Queen went to him, and stood beside the bed. He looked up at her.
"You aren't Aunt Amanda," he said. "I want to see Aunt Amanda."
"I think that was my name once," said the Queen. "Will you talk to me?"
He looked at her again, and she saw that he did not know her.
"My farver sent me," he said. "Mr. Toby has gone to the barber-shop, and my farver he wants a pound of Cage-Roach Mitchner."
"Mr. Toby is here in the palace now, and I'm sure he—"
"I don't know about any palace. I can't wait long. My farver told me to hurry."
The Queen said no more, and Freddie appeared to go to sleep. The night came on, and the Queen still sat by his side. It grew very late; her children had long since gone to bed, and even the King was asleep in his own apartments. The palace was silent, and there was scarcely a light anywhere in the great place except the light of a taper on a table in Freddie's room. The Queen was bending forward, watching the face on the pillow. The eyes were closed, the lips were together, and there was no sign of breathing. She knew that it could not be much longer; she buried her face in her hands and wept bitterly.
A gentle tap upon the door aroused her. She rose and admitted Mr. Toby and Mr. Punch, Thomas the Inferior, and Mr. Hanlon.
"Quick, ma'am," said Mr. Hanlon. "There's not a minute to be lost. If you plase, I'll ask ye to put on yer bonnet in a hurry, ma'am. We're off on a journey, and the poor sick young lad's coming along with us. If you'll just be in a hurry with the bonnet, ma'am!"
The Queen, scarcely realizing what she was doing,left the room, and went first to the nursery, where she bent over her three sleeping children and kissed them each, and murmured a loving good-bye above them, as if she were going to leave them; and for a long, long time she gazed at each rosy face, as if to fix it in her memory forever.
When she returned to the room, wearing a shawl over her head and shoulders, she was startled to see that the sick youth was sitting upright in a chair, thickly wrapped in blankets. His round childlike eyes were wide open, and to her surprise a faint smile seemed to hover about his lips.
She looked at the others. Each held, in his hand an empty hour-glass.
"Plase to get your hour-glass, ma'am," said Mr. Hanlon, "and Freddie's too."
Freddie's hour-glass was soon found in a drawer in the same room; the Queen's she brought in a moment from another room.
Mr. Hanlon picked up from the floor, where he had previously laid it, a small canvas bag, and placed it on the table under the candle. All of the empty hour-glasses he placed upon the table, and unscrewed the part of each by which it was designed to receive its load of sand. He lifted his bag, and out of it poured into each glass a quantity of fine white sand. "A little more or less won't matter a mite," said he, when he had filled them all. "A foine time I've had getting the sand, 'tis sure, but it's the true article, straight from the hand of the old crayture himself, and 'tis him we're going to this very minute, and the young lad with us. By the sand in the hour-glasses we'll get back to the old crayture in one-tinth the time it took me to find him without it, and by the same we'll get him to save for us the poor lad's life, or me name's not Michael."
Each now took his hour-glass in his hand. Theywere the same hour-glasses they had bought of Shiraz the Persian, and the sand which was now in them was the same sort of fine white sand which had been in them before their ordeal in the fire.
Mr. Punch and Mr. Toby lifted the sick youth from his chair, and carried him between them, in a sitting position, towards the door. Mr. Hanlon looked at him anxiously, and commanded haste.
In a moment the whole party were in the hall, and in a few moments more they were crossing the lawn towards King's Tower. It was a clear night, and the sky was spangled with stars.
Mr. Hanlon opened the door of the Tower, and when they were all within closed it again.
"Madam and gintlemen," said he, "we are going to the top of the Tower. I have been there meself; and there's wan at the top who can bring back our young frind to life, if he's a mind to do it."
"Oh!" gasped the Queen in terror. "I must not go to the top of this tower. Ah!" she stopped suddenly and went on in a determined voice. "I will, though. If it is to be, then it must be. Our young Chevalier came here for me, and I will go with him! If my strength holds out, I will go even to the top of the Tower, whatever evil may befall me there!"
"'Tis not strength that's needed, madam," said Mr. Hanlon, "for the old crayture that give me the sand was willing to help us up to him, and the sand will make the travellin' easy, or else the old haythen has much desayved me. 'Twas all I could do to get to the top, belave me, and ye'd niver do it without the sand in the glasses, let alone carry up the young lad in your arms besides. Now we'll be going up the stairs, and if the old crayture didn't desayve me, you're to hold your hour-glasses in your hands, and see what happens."
Mr. Hanlon went up first; then came the Queen, and after her Mr. Punch and Mr. Toby, bearing between them in an upright position the stiff cold form of the young Chevalier; and last of all came Thomas the Inferior, in his long brown gown and sandals.
Each climbed slowly, but the steps appeared to flow downward under their feet with great rapidity. They were not conscious of selecting any particular tread to step on; but while a foot was rising from one step to the next, it seemed as if a thousand steps were passing downward, until the foot came down and found itself on a perfectly motionless tread. Undoubtedly they were mounting, without unusual exertion, a thousand steps at a time.
Even at that rate of progress, the journey upward seemed an endless one. They paused sometimes to go into one of the rooms on a landing for a moment's rest, and at those times they looked out of a window. It was not long before they were so high that on looking out, the City's lights were no more than a glowing blur. At the last window on their upward progress they looked up at the cloud; it was immediately above their heads. After that there were no more windows. They went on upward in silence, aware in the darkness of the swift flow of steps downward under them as they raised their feet. Each observed that as he raised his foot the sand in his hour-glass flowed downward a thousand times more rapidly, as if time were suddenly running faster than it was used to running.
The walls of the tower were by this time coming closer together, and the stair was even steeper than before. They were panting for breath, and Mr. Punch and Mr. Toby seemed to be all but exhausted. "We are almost at the top," said Mr. Hanlon. "Keep on. Don't give up."
It was now, because there were no more rooms norwindows, completely dark. The face of the sick youth could not be seen, and no one knew whether he was still living. Even the sand in their hour-glasses they were now unable to see.
"We are almost there," said Mr. Hanlon. "Only another minute or two. 'Tis easy work to what I had in coming up alone."
Mr. Punch gave a groan. "Hi carn't go another step," said he. "Hi'm completely—"
At this moment Mr. Hanlon stopped upon a landing. It had been a long while since there had been a landing, and they were all glad to rest upon it. They crowded about Mr. Hanlon in the dark.
"The door is over there," said he. "Keep close to me."
He walked a few feet forward across the level floor, and came to a stop again.
"'Tis the top of the tower," said he. "I hope we're not too late to save the young lad's life. Stand close behind me."
He moved forward again, and stopped; he was evidently feeling a wall with his hands.
"Ah!" said he. "'Tis the door itself. Now, thin, we'll see!"
He knocked upon the door with his knuckles.
There was no response.
He knocked again.
There was a sound upon the other side of the door, as of the rattling of a chain and the sliding of a bolt.
A slit of light appeared up and down in the dark wall; it became wider; it was apparent that the door was opening; and in another moment the door was flung wide, and in the doorway stood an Old Man, holding up in his right hand a lantern in which glimmered a candle.
He was an old man, rather stout, dressed in a short gown tied in with a cord about the middle, and wearing sandals on his feet. He stooped somewhat; a white beard hung to his waist; his head was bald, except for a forelock of white hair which drooped over his forehead towards his eyes. There was a humorous twinkle in his eye, and a smile overspread his broad round face.
"'Tis the old parrty who will cure the Chivalier," said Mr. Hanlon, behind his hand.
"It's the Old Man of the Mountain," whispered Toby.
"It's the Magician who built the Tower," whispered Queen Miranda, in alarm.
"Hit's me own father, as ever was!" cried Mr. Punch, aloud. "Greetings, old dear! 'Ere's a surprise, what? 'Owever did you come 'ere? Hi'm no end glad to see you, and the larst person Hi should 'ave thought to see in this—My word, what a lark!"
"Come in, Punch," said the old gentleman, affably, "and your friends too. I'm very glad to see you, my boy. I've had some trouble in getting you here, but here you are at last, thanks to my good friend Hanlon, and you are now well out of the hands of Shiraz. Put the Little Boy down in that chair, and we'll see what we can do for him!"
To speak of a grown-up youth with a mustache as a Little Boy seemed hardly respectful, but Freddie did not seem to mind it; indeed, his big round childlikeeyes dwelt fondly on the old man, and there was something like a smile about his lips. He was seated gently in a chair within the room, and while Mr. Punch's father set down his lantern on a table, the others looked about them.
They were in a small square room with a low ceiling. By the dim light of the candle they could see that it was bare and dusty; cobwebs hung in all the corners; there seemed to be no windows, but set upright in one wall was what looked like the back of a clock, as tall as a man. Opposite the door by which they had entered was another door. Around the walls were shelves, from floor to ceiling, crowded with hour-glasses of all sizes.
The old gentleman observed the look which Toby cast at the shelves.
"One of my store-rooms," said he. "I've got a good many of 'em, all told, and in fact you'll find a store-room of mine in the top of nearly every clock-tower in the world. It takes a deal of space to keep all the hour-glasses in, I can tell you. If you'll give me yours, I'll put 'em away for you. Shiraz got 'em away from me once, but he won't do it again. He manages to steal one now and then, when I'm away, but I usually get 'em back, sooner or later."
He collected the hour-glasses from his visitors, and put them away on a shelf.
"Look 'ere, parent," said Mr. Punch, "hif I didn't know better, I'd s'y as I'd seen this room before. There's the back of the clock, and the door over there looks like—"
"You've a sharp eye, Punch, my boy," said the old gentleman. "Quite a detective you are, my son. Now, then, we'd better get busy. Aunt Amanda, do you want me to cast off your enchantment?"
"Why do you call me that?" asked Queen Miranda.
"Because that's your name. Don't you know who you are?"
"I know I was enchanted once, under the name of Aunt Amanda."
"No, no. You're enchantednow, under the name of Queen Miranda."
"But Shiraz the Persian told us he would disenchant us, and he did."
"No, no. You were yourselves before, andnowyou are enchanted."
"My brain is in a whirl," said Queen Miranda. "Are we ourselves now, or were we ourselves before?"
"By crackey," said Toby, "it's too much for me, and I give it up. Anyway, what we want to know is, can you cure the Chevalier?"
"I can, and I will," said the old man. "There's nothing the matter with him, except that he isn't himself. As soon as he's himself again, he'll be well. He was given the chance once before, but he didn't know how to use it; he made a great mistake."
"What mistake?" said Toby.
"He made the mistake of carrying the Old Man of the Mountain on his back. If he had only lifted him up in his arms before him, the Old Man would have been as light as a feather, and Freddie would have been himself again in a flash. But of course he didn't know. We've got to correct his mistake."
"Well, by crickets," said Toby, "this is Correction Island, right enough. Blamed if I know which is the mistake and which is the correction. It looks to me as if it was a mistake to be corrected, and we've got to correct the correction back again."
"Something like that," said the old man, smiling. "I'm going to undo the correction of each one of you, and then you'll all be yourselves once more, instead of these false things you now are."
Queen Miranda looked at the ruby ring on her finger, and wept quietly to herself. As for Freddie, his eyes never left the face of the old man.
The old man stooped over Freddie, and laid his cheek against the young Chevalier's pale forehead, and then against the young man's cheeks; he then threw aside the blankets and sat himself down on Freddie's knees. His body pressed the young man's breast, and his cheek touched the young man's cheeks one after the other. It was some moments before there was any change. The others watched anxiously. A red glow began to appear in Freddie's cheeks, and his eyes became brighter. He raised his hands; he moved his head; he looked about him; he smiled into the face of the old man.
"You are better?" said the old man.
"I'm very well," said Freddie, in a clear voice. "But I think I must have been sick. Have I been sick?"
"Rather," said the old man. "But you are going to be yourself again in another minute. Now, then; put your arms around me and lift me off. Can you do that?"
"Easily," said Freddie, and he lifted the old man in his arms, and rising to his feet at the same time, tossed the old man off with an easy gesture.
As the old man touched the floor, there was no longer any Chevalier. Freddie was standing before the chair in his own person; the Little Boy once more, with sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks. He looked around in surprise.
"Where are Aunt Amanda and the others?" said the Little Boy.
"Wait just a minute, Freddie," said the old man. "Now, madam," he said to Queen Miranda, "if you will be kind enough to lift me up and toss me away—"
Queen Miranda looked at him doubtfully. He wasa solid-looking person, and it seemed absurd to think of lifting him. But she did as he directed, and placing her hands under his arms she found that he weighed no more than a baby. She held him up off the floor.
"Now cast me off," said he.
She tossed him away with an easy gesture, and he alighted on his feet with a bound.
"Aunt Amanda!" cried Freddie, and rushed into her arms.
"Land sakes!" said she. "I thought you were never coming. Where are all the others? I'm glad there's nobody but this old man to see me in this bedraggled bonnet. Why don't that Toby Littleback come? Now ain't it like him to keep me waiting here all night? I never see such an exasperatin'—"
"Wait just one moment, Aunt Amanda," said the old man. "I'll have him here immediately."
He stood before Toby, and directed him what to do. Toby seized him in his strong hands and lifted him up over his head like a feather pillow; and such a toss did Toby give him as sent him flying across the room almost to the wall. The old man came down on his feet with a bound.
"You Toby Littleback!" said Aunt Amanda. "Ain't it just like you to keep me and Freddie waiting here all night, while—And where's Mr. Punch and all the rest of 'em?"
Toby stood before her, with his hands in his pockets. His hump was on his back in its rightful place, and he looked exactly as he had looked the first time Freddie had seen him, standing in the doorway of the Old Tobacco Shop.
"I ain't been nowhere, Aunt Amanda," said Toby. "And I don't know where Mr. Punch is, neither. I ain't his guardian, anyway. The last I seen of him, as far as I remember, was in Shiraz's garden, lookin' round at the flowers. By crackey, if he can't take careof himself, I ain't a-going to do it for him. Maybe the old gentleman here can tell you, if you want to know."
"Wait just a moment," said the old man. "I'll have him here immediately."
Mr. Punch laughed immoderately as he picked up his own father and tossed him in the air and hurled him across the room. The old man did not seem to mind it a bit, but joined in the laugh as he came down on his feet with a bounce. Mr. Punch was immediately himself again; his hump was on his back, his breast stuck out, his long-tailed coat and knee breeches were as before, and he looked as if he might just have stepped down from his wooden box beside the Tobacco Shop's door.
"Wery glad," said he, "to myke you acquainted with me old parent; and a wery good parent too, hif——"
"That's enough, Punch," said his father. "Now we'll bring on the Churchwarden."
In another moment the thin and saintly-looking Thomas the Inferior was gone, and in his place was the fat and comfortable Churchwarden, blinking at his friends through his round spectacles.
"I have been considering," said he, "that it would be highly desirable, after all I have passed through lately, to sit in my chair on the pavement against the wall of my church with a pipe and a newspaper; and I have concluded that——"
"We will now call Mr. Hanlon," said the old man.
From the time Mr. Hanlon placed his hands under the old man's arms his tongue was rattling on at a prodigious speed; and as he tossed the old man lightly away like a doll he was saying, "And niver once did the spacheless man and the deaf wife have anny worrds except once; and 'twas then that——." But he spoke no more. He was himself again. He was dumb.Toby greeted him warmly, but he only nodded his head vigorously, and smiled his old-time cheerful smile.
"That's all," said the old man.
"But the two Old Codgers——" began Toby.
"They will not be here," said the old man. "No use waiting. They made their choice some time ago. They are as much themselves now as they ever were, and they will remain where they are in perfect contentment. No need to bother about them. All that remains now is to bid you farewell, and wish you a pleasant journey."
"Have we far to go?" said Toby.
"You'll see," said the old gentleman, going to the door, that was opposite the one by which they had entered, and throwing it open.
He stood aside as they passed, and smiled upon each with a kind and fatherly smile. He placed his hand on Freddie's head, and turned the Little Boy's face up so that he could look down into his eyes.
"Remember!" he said. "Never carry the Old Man of the Mountain on your back. Carry him before you in your hands, and he will be as light as a feather. Now farewell."
He gently pushed them out and closed the door behind them, and they went slowly down a dark stair. Toby held Freddie's hand, and Mr. Punch helped Aunt Amanda. They could see very little, and they knew very little where they were, until they found themselves after a time on a level floor, and feeling the wall with their hands came to a pair of swinging doors. Through these doors they passed, and Toby knocked his knee against something in the dark.
"It's a long bench!" said Toby. "And here's a sight of other long benches! Blamed if they don't seem like pews in a church!"
A dim light as of tall windows was visible at some distance on their left.
The Churchwarden pushed forward and walkedswiftly here and there with the step of one who knows the way. In a moment he returned.
"It's a church," he said, calmly. "It'smychurch. This way, madam and gentlemen."
He led the way to the left. Under a great round window which could be dimly seen in the wall was a wide door, before which they all paused.
"As captain of this party," said Aunt Amanda, "my orders is that we open the door and see what will happen next."
"Ay, ay, ma'am," said the Churchwarden, and opened the door.
In a moment they were standing under the stars on a brick pavement before a church, and on the pavement against the church wall was an empty chair.
"Ah!" said the Churchwarden, and sat down in the chair.
"Mercy on us!" cried Aunt Amanda. "We'rehome!"
"Blamed if we ain't!" said Toby. "It's our own street, and I can almost see the Tobacco Shop from here!"
"Harfter a life of adventure," said Mr. Punch, "one will find it wery pleasant to stand quietly on one's little perch and rest one's legs and see one's old friends go in and hout at the Old Tobacco Shop once more, watching for the 'ands of the clock to come together for a bit of relaxation with one's——"
"All right, young feller!" cried Toby to Freddie. "Come with me. Mr. Punch, take Aunt Amanda home. I'll be with you as soon as I've got Freddie safe."
Aunt Amanda and Mr. Punch went off together towards the Old Tobacco Shop. Mr. Hanlon, after shaking hands all round, departed for the Gaunt Street Theatre, where he would be no longer troubled by the imps, who had long since been destroyed by the Odourof Sanctity. The Churchwarden preferred to enjoy for awhile the comfort of his old chair by the Church wall, and Toby and Freddie left him there, his hands folded placidly across his stomach.
Freddie and Toby crossed the street-car track, hand in hand together. The horse had gone to bed for the night, and there was no danger. All the houses were dark. It was very late. No light was to be seen anywhere, except a gas-lamp at the next corner. The streets were silent and deserted. Freddie yawned.
Freddie's house was dark, like all the rest. A narrow brick passage-way followed a fence to the rear, between this house and the next, and a gate opened from the sidewalk into this passage. Freddie and Toby went through this gate and crept quietly to the backyard of Freddie's house. The kitchen-door was locked, but Toby found a window which was unfastened. He raised it noiselessly, and helped Freddie to climb in. With a whispered good-night the Little Boy left his friend and tiptoed into the house and up the back stairs in the dark to his own room.
His bed was there in its old place, and the covers were turned down. He did not stop to say his prayers. He yawned and stretched his arms. He wanted nothing now but to lie snug and safe under the cool sheets. He threw off his clothes and left them on the floor. He knew where his night-gown was. He crept into bed; he pulled the covers up to his ears; he nestled his head into the pillow, and breathed a deep sigh.
The next morning, when Freddie awoke, his mother and father were standing over his bed.
"I think he had better not go there anymore," his father was saying.
"Oh, I don't think it will do him any harm now," said his mother.
"It all comes of his staying away so long," said his father. "I always told him to hurry back, and just see how long he stayed this time. If he can't come back in less than six months or six years or heaven knows how long, he'd better not go at all."
"Oh," said his mother, "I'm sure he'll come back promptly after this."
"I couldn't," said Freddie. "It took such a long time to get to the Island, and there was all the trouble with the pirates, and it was a terrible long journey before we got to the palace, and of course we couldn't run away from the queen after we'd gone all that long way with her, and the queen's children didn't want me to go anyway, and there wasn't any way to get back, except for finding out how to get to the top of the tower, and maybe I wouldn't have got back at all if I hadn't met the Old Man of the Mountain, and got sick and cured again by Mr. Punch's father, and I might have got drowned when the ship disappeared, or I might have had my head cut off by the pirates, and then you wouldn't have seen me any more, and you'd have been sorry."
His father looked at his mother, and nodded his head.
"He'd better stay in bed today," said he. "We won't talk to him about it until tomorrow."
"Yes," said his mother, "that will be much better. Poor little Freddie!"
Freddie did not know why he should be called poor, but he was still tired from the adventurous life he had recently lived, and he was very glad to remain in bed all day.
The next morning, after his father had said good-bye for the day, his mother allowed him to get up, and a little later to go out into the sunshine. He strolled down the street, enjoying the familiar sights after his long absence. He found his legs a little weak; he must have been very ill indeed at the King's palace, and he could not expect to get over it in one day. He crossed the street-car track, and on the pavement before the church he saw a well-known figure.
The Churchwarden was sitting in his chair tilted back against the wall, smoking a long pipe and reading a newspaper. As Freddie approached he put down his paper and looked at him over his spectacles.
"Good morning," said he. "I'm glad to see you back again. I hear you've been away." And he winked his eye at Freddie in a very knowing manner.
"Yes, sir," said Freddie. "I guess I must have been pretty sick."
"No doubt about it, my son. But of course I knew all the time you'd pull through."
Freddie did not believe it for a moment; obviously the Churchwarden was bragging.
"The street looks pretty good," said Freddie, "after being away so long. Would you rather sit here on the pavement than do anything else?"
"I believe you, son. I'd rather sit here on a sunnyday with a pipe and a newspaper than have all the treasure of the Incas."
Freddie was glad to hear that the Churchwarden did not regret the loss of his share of the treasure, though whether Captain Lingo belonged to the Incas he did not know.
"I don't care anything about the treasure myself," said he. "I'm too glad to be well again and back in our own street."
"I'm glad I'm here myself, son. And if you happen to see Toby Littleback this morning, tell him I'm alive and resting well, considering."
"Yes, sir," said Freddie, and continued his stroll.
The Old Tobacco Shop, when he arrived, looked as it had looked on the fateful day when he had last seen it. He paused before the door, and gazed at Mr. Punch. He half expected the little man to step down and shake hands with him; but Mr. Punch did not move a muscle; he did not even look at Freddie; he held out in one hand a packet of black cigars, and his wooden face, if it expressed anything at all, showed the great calm which he must have felt when he got back to his little perch. Freddie looked up at the clock in the tower, with some thought that the hands might be together; but it was a quarter past ten, and anyway Mr. Punch's father was probably by this time far away in some other of his store-rooms about the world.
Freddie entered the shop. Mr. Toby was behind the counter, opening a package of tobacco.
"Aha! young feller!" he cried. "Back again, sure enough! Blamed if it don't seem as if you'd been away from here for a year. And a mighty sick chap you were, that's a fact. I reckon we all thought you were going to die, maybe; by crackey, I never seen anyone so pale in my life. Are you all right now?"
"Yes, sir," said Freddie. "And I'm glad to be back.Are you glad to be here in the shop, the same as ever?"
"Me? You bet I am. You couldn't buy me to leave this shop, not if you offered me all the money that Captain Kidd ever buried. No, sir. And look here, young man; I reckon you ain't surprised to see that the Chinaman's head is gone; eh?"
Freddie looked at the shelf behind Toby, and sure enough, the Chinaman's head was gone. He knew, of course, that it was lying at the bottom of the ocean.
"I kind of lost it one day," said Toby, winking his eye. "Mislaid it, you know, or lost it, one or the other, I don't know which,—but, anyway, I reckon it won't never be found. It's gone. I hope you don't mind it now, do you?"
"No, sir," said Freddie. He was glad to know that Mr. Toby was not still feeling disturbed because he had left it on board The Sieve.
"All right, then," said Toby. "You'd better go in and see Aunt Amanda."
Freddie opened the door at the rear of the shop and went into the back room. Aunt Amanda was sitting by the table, sewing.
On the table were the wax flowers and the album and the double glasses through which you looked at the twin pictures. The room was just as if they had never left it.
"Eshyereerilart," said Aunt Amanda, taking a handful of pins from her mouth. "Bless your dear little heart, I'm glad you're back again. Are you well? Sit down on the hassock."
Freddie took his customary place on the hassock at her feet. He looked up at her and wondered if she were sorry she had been a queen once and was a queen no more.
"Yes'm," said he. "I'm all well now."
"And glad to be back here in the shop again?"
"Yes'm; I cert'n'y am."