Chapter V: Epilogue: 230 (5)

“Orion was the person who first spoke of it to the Pleiades girls. They were dancing a pretty, twisty dance when he came strolling along and called to them:—

“‘Are you practicing to be ready for company?’

“They didn’t catch what he said, and Taygeta would have stopped, but Maia wouldn’t let them. So Orion waited and watched while they untangled and finished in a straight line; and he might have gone far to see anything so pretty as they were, in their gauzy gowns all a-glimmer with tiny stars.

“‘Now you may talk, if you like,’ said Maia. ‘Alcyone often makes a mistake in that, so I wanted to go straight through it.’

“‘What dance was that?’ asked Orion.

“‘That’s one of the “Sailor’s Knots,”’ said Taygeta. ‘There’s such a lot of them!’

“‘Yes,’ said Alcyone, ‘and they are a good deal alike and entirely different. Any one might be mixed. You have to tie them up, first, and then untangle them.’

“‘She can do it perfectly well when she wants to,’ said Maia. ‘All our family know about ocean things; but any one can make her giggle and be silly.’

“‘What was it you said as you came?’ asked Merope, quickly. She had tact about changing the subject.

“‘I don’t remember. Nothing much,’ said Orion.

“‘Yes, it was,’ said Taygeta. ‘Something about company.’

“‘Oh, yes. Haven’t you heard?’

“‘Heard what?’

“‘Tell us—quick!’ They all spoke together; and they should have known better than to let Orion see how eager they were. It gave him a chance to tease.

“‘Why—some one. Oh, I’m sure you must have heard. You don’t want me to tell it all over again?’

“‘Yes, we do—’

“‘No, we haven’t—’

“‘Now, don’t be so mean—’

“‘Don’t ask him,’ said Maia. ‘He’s dying to tell.’

“Then they said not another word, but stood in a lovely row, locking arms and balancing on their toes, and looked at him; and Orion looked back at them. Then he pushed his lion’s skin up over his shoulder and spoke to his dogs:—

“‘Come, Sirius! We’d better go and get ready before the Stranger comes,’ and he turned to go. But there were seven girls to stop him, and they were around him in a second.

“‘No, you shall not—’

“‘Now, Orion—’

“‘Oh, _please_—’

“‘What is it?’ they asked; and he _was_ dying to tell!

“‘I can’t tell you so very much,’ he said. ‘But they say we are to have a visitor from the Far-Away Isles.’

“‘Who says so?’

“‘Who is coming?’

“‘When will he be here?’

“‘What is he coming for?’ They were like seven interrogation points!

“‘I don’t know,’ said Orion. ‘I don’t remember who told me—and I’m not quite sure what. Everybody but you seems to know about it.’

“‘Did you ever know any one so tiresome?’ asked Maia. And six Pleiades girls said they never had, and ‘We’ll have to ask some one else.’

“So, off they went to try to find out what was going to happen; and how anybody knew about it.

“It was a curious thing, but by the time they had talked with the other Star People, they were in the same state as Orion and all the others. No one could tell quite where he had heard it, and no one knew exactly what he had heard; but every one had a perfectly clear impression that a visitor was coming from the Far-Away Isles.

“When they tried to talk a little more definitely about him, they did not altogether agree. Still, there was a strong idea that he was young and splendid and handsome, of course; some one very distinguished in his own country.”

“A prince, for instance?” asked Phyllisy.

“More than likely.—

“‘What do you suppose he is coming for?’ asked Maia.

“‘Perhapth, becauth he’th going to all the Thtar-Countrieth,’ said Draco. ‘He couldn’t do that unleth he came here.’

“‘That’s so,’ said Hercules. ‘We’re one of ’em.’

“‘You’re mistaken,’ said Cepheus. ‘He’s heard about the prettiest seven sisters in Starland, and he wants to take his choice of them back with him. You’ll have to polish up your stars, girls, and dance your best for him.’ (That was his idea of a joke!)

“‘Indeed we _won’t_!’ said Electra, with her nose very high. ‘We care nothing about him.’

“‘No,’ said Alcyone. ‘We won’t do one thing!’

“‘Now, don’t you put nonsense into their heads,’ said Cassiopeia to Cepheus. ‘He’s just coming to be friendly, and because he can; and I think it’s lovely. We are going to do everything possible to give him a fine welcome; and the girls will look just as pretty as they can, to be a credit to us all.’

“‘I wish Merope’s star were brighter,’ said Celeno. ‘Do you think there is anything we could do about it?’

“There was one thing they could do: they could talk! And they began that very minute. It seems hardly possible that people could talk so much about so little! No one had thought before that Merope was not quite as she should be. If her star was faint and vanished when one looked hard at it, that was the way of Merope’s star, and that was all there was about it.

“But now, with the thought of stranger eyes, they began to feel that perhaps it was extraordinary that she should be different from her sisters. And the more they thought and talked about it, the more important it seemed to be.

“Every one had some suggestion to make, except poor Merope herself; she never had given it a thought, and now she declared she didn’t care.

“‘But _we_ care,’ said Maia. ‘It isn’t creditable to our family. What will the Stranger think, to see you different from us?’

“So they talked—and talked—”

“Why didn’t they give her a star?—like Little Bear?” asked the Kitten.

“They would have given it, gladly, but Merope wouldn’t take it; and, what is more, none of them had a star of the right kind to give.”

“They’re terribly particular about them, aren’t they?” said Phyllisy.

“They have to be,” answered the Princess. “But not in the way they were now. Those foolish people went on talking, and fixed their eyes and their thoughts on the star until they quite lost their senses, and it seemed the most calamitous thing that could happen—that the splendid Stranger should come from the Far-Away Isles and see Merope with the puzzling star above her forehead.

“One night, at this time, Perseus came along by the river, and there he found Merope sitting alone. She was thinking so deeply she didn’t see him until he was close beside her.

HE FOUND MEROPE SITTING ALONE
]

“‘Where are the rest of you?’ he asked.

“‘Dancing somewhere; I don’t know where. I came here to think.’

“That sounded pretty sad to Perseus, and he tried to say something to cheer her.

“‘I wouldn’t worry about that star. You look all right.’

“‘I wouldn’t mind for myself,’ said Merope; ‘but I’m not going to disgrace my family.’

“It was not long after this that the six Pleiades began to say: ‘Where is Merope?’ and then the other Star People said: ‘Where can Merope be?’—until the whole Sky seemed one great Question; and the nearest it came to an answer was that Perseus had seen her sitting on the bank of the river, quite downcast, but plainly resolved to do something.

“Cassiopeia was so worried, she lost her temper.

“‘I hope you girls are satisfied _now_’ she said. ‘Persecuting that poor child!—and all for vanity. If anything has happened to her, I don’t know how you’ll forgive yourselves!’

“‘You were in it, too,’ observed Perseus; and she was.

“‘I know it,’ she said, after a pause. ‘That’s how I know how they ought to feel.’

“‘I don’t see how anything _could_ have happened to her.’ said Orion.

“‘Then where is she?’ asked Perseus. And that was what no one of them could answer; and Starland wasn’t a happy place.”

“They could think she’d run away,” suggested the Kitten.

“Or drowned in the river,” said Miss Phyllisy in a tragic voice.

“They couldn’t bear to think it was anything serious; but it was a mystery where she could be. They wandered from place to place, asking one another what it could mean. And everywhere they ran across Little Bear, roaming uneasy and disconsolate: even old Major was restless.

“‘You don’t suppose the Stranger came and carried her off to the Far-Away Isles, do you?’ asked Andromeda.

“‘No, I do not,’ said Orion, very positively.

“‘She wouldn’t have gone! She wouldn’t have left us,’ Taygeta declared.

“‘Suppose he _took_ her?’ insisted Andromeda.

“‘_Nonsense!_’ said Cassiopeia.

“But when the night was gone without any sign of her, and a cloudless night followed and there were only six girls in the group where there should have been seven, what could they think? What could keep one of the Star People from her place, unless something really had happened to her? And when they had borne her absence for two cloudless nights, their hearts had grown heavier and heavier, and they had almost given up any hope of seeing their dear Merope again.”

“And they couldn’t hunt for her when it was clear,” said Phyllisy.

“No. They could only stand still and brood over it for two endless nights.

“The third night came, cloudless still. The daylight grew dim until it was nearly gone, and one after another, each star glimmered in its place. When——

“Who was it?—coming—far down the Sky?

“The Star People neither spoke nor stirred while Merope came swiftly and slipped into her place just as the last gleam of daylight faded away. And if that didn’t show how faithful and obedient they were, what could?”

“They had to keep all their questions in them,” said Pat.

“Yes, for a while. But about midnight thick clouds spread across the sky; and then Merope might have answered twenty questions at once, if she had had so many mouths.

“‘Where have you been?’ and ‘Why did you go?’

“‘Has anything hurt you?’

“‘Didn’t you know we would worry?’ That was Cassiopeia.

“‘If you’ll listen, I’ll tell you all about it,’ said Merope. ‘But you all talk at once.’

“‘We won’t,’ said Cassiopeia. ‘Be quiet, everybody! Tell us this minute. Who took you?’

“‘Nobody. I went myself.’

“‘That’s not the way to begin,’ said Orion. ‘Where did you go?’

“‘I went where the stars are made.’

“‘What did you do such a thing as that for?’

“Merope’s arm was around Little Bear, as he sat close beside her, and she drooped her head until her chin touched his sharp little ear and bent it over.

“‘I wanted a new star,’ she said very softly. ‘Wait—I’ll tell you all about it. I thought you were ashamed of me, and I didn’t want to disgrace you; and I thought and thought until I made up my mind to go where they were made, and get a new one.’

“‘But how could you be gone from your place?’ asked Maia. ‘Don’t you know it’s been clear weather?’

“‘Yes,’ said Merope. ‘But I knew my star was so dull it wasn’t likely I’d be missed. I’m not very important.’

“‘Yes, you _are_—just as important as any of us,’ said Taygeta.

“‘And we’ve been almost crazy, missing you,’ said Cassiopeia. ‘Even Major had the fidgets. I think our feelings ought to be considered.’

“‘I know it. I’m sorry now. I didn’t think of that.’

“‘But tell us what you did,’ said Orion. It seemed almost impossible to keep them to the subject.

“‘I will. You know the place—off that way,’ and she pointed over the river. ‘I knew all I had to do was to keep going straight on until I came there. So I slipped off quietly, when you were all busy.’

“‘If I’d seen you start, you wouldn’t have gone,—unless I went too,’ said Hercules. ‘It wasn’t safe—a girl all alone.’

“‘But what happened? Did anything frighten you?’

“‘No. Only the dark, and cold.’

“‘_Dark!_ Was it really _dark_, Merope?’

“‘Well—I never heard anything like _that_!’ said Cassiopeia.

(“The reason they were so astonished is because it never is dark in Starland. There is always the starlight.” The Princess answered the question the Others didn’t ask, except by looks. “Oh—h!” they murmured.)

“‘Yes, it was,’ said Merope, ‘part of the time. Not at first. After I crossed the river I went straight on for a good while; it was about like this,’ she waved her hand. ‘It was all right until it was dark—’ Then she stopped talking just at the most interesting place.

“‘Oh, go _on_, Merope!’ said Alcyone. ‘Where was it dark?’

“‘I don’t believe I can explain it. It came all at once—everywhere—as if I had walked off the edge—into the sea; only there wasn’t any sea. There wasn’t anything!’

“‘There was _you_, wasn’t there?’ asked Perseus.

“‘Yes. But I knew there wouldn’t be, long.’

“‘I wish you would explain things as you go along,’ said Cassiopeia.

“‘I’ll try,’ said Merope. ‘But it’s very perplexing. It was perfectly dark; you never saw any dark like it—’

“‘You can’t _see_ dark, ever,’ said Orion. ‘That’s what it is.’

“‘That’s what I meant. You couldn’t see it; even my own little stars were out’ (she glanced at her dress), ‘and it was cold—_deathly_! and not a sound—and I didn’t know which way anything was. I was just colder and colder, and still—and I knew, someway, I was going out.’

“‘Out where?’ asked Hercules.

“‘Nowhere,’ said Merope. ‘Like a candle.’

“‘Goodness! Weren’t you frightened?’ asked Andromeda.

“‘Yes. And I tried to think what to do, but I couldn’t. I kept growing colder and stiller—I couldn’t move. Then I thought about all of you, and there came a little warmth inside, and I knew the cold couldn’t reach me.’

“‘Because love was stronger than cold or dark?’ suggested Andromeda.

“‘Yes; that was it. Nothing could put it out.’

“‘Then how did you find your way out?’ asked Cepheus, after a minute.

“‘That was easy. When I thought of you and home, something pulled me; so I knew which way you were.’

“‘Then you came back,’ said Taygeta.

“‘No, I didn’t. I couldn’t come without the star. And I thought if I kept going in the direction I started, I’d come to the right place. So I kept on, the way I didn’t want to go.’

“‘Now, I call that downright clever!’ said Draco. ‘It thowth what it ith to uthe your reathon.’

“‘Merope always was the brightest one of our family, really,’ said Maia. ‘What did you do then?’

“‘Kept on. And after I came out of the dark I was not very far from the new stars.’

“‘Oh, tell us about them!’ said Cassiopeia. ‘How are they made? Tell us every single thing!’

“‘I can’t,’ said Merope. ‘I’m not good at understanding such things. There were a great many—all colors. I think they are made of something very light—and spread out—it was like fog, in places; then, in other places, it was whirling—I don’t know what makes it begin to whirl: then it seemed to thicken up, when it whirled—’

“‘How, thicken up?’ asked Orion.

“‘I can’t explain; but the star-fog collected and drew together into a ball, and that was the star. There were all sizes and kinds. Sometimes there was one in the centre and more little stars whirling around in rings outside it. And trails of fog—I never could describe it. You would have to see for yourself. And they sang. Oh, it was beautiful!’ Then she stopped again, to recall it; and that was trying to the others, because she certainly did not make things very clear to them.

“‘Now, Merope,’ said Cassiopeia, ‘you give your mind to it, and describe things a little better. I wish I’d gone myself. I could tell what I’d seen and heard. What was the singing like?’

“‘It wasn’t like anything,’ said Merope. ‘That’s why I can’t tell you. It was quite, quite beautiful. Every star—when it whirled—seemed to have its own song—’

“‘Like tops?’ asked Perseus.

“‘Perhaps, a little—’ said Merope, doubtfully; ‘and all the songs made one; and—I don’t know what it said, but I think—’ then she hesitated.

“‘_Go on!_’ said Maia.

“‘I think it said, they were glad they were alive.’

“‘Of course,’ said Cassiopeia. ‘Then what?’

“‘Then it was time for me to come home.’

“‘Didn’t you dread coming through the dark place again?’ asked Electra.

“‘Yes. But I knew I could get through. And it wasn’t so hard as going; all I had to do was to come the way I wanted to. So I just came.’

“‘But, Merope,’ said Andromeda, ‘where is your new star?’

“Then every one of the Star People looked at Merope, and saw—what not one of them had noticed before, they were so glad to have her back—her own, strange, vanishing star still glinted above her forehead.

“‘Couldn’t you find the right kind?’ asked Taygeta.

“‘Weren’t you allowed to have it?’ asked Orion.

“‘Did you lothe it, coming back?’ asked Draco.

“‘Answer, Merope!’ said Cassiopeia.

“Merope looked confused, and she bent over Little Bear once more (he was a very convenient Little Bear), but she had to speak.

“‘There were plenty of stars,’ she said slowly, ‘and I might have taken one, but when I saw them—all so splendid—they didn’t seem like me; and then I thought you all loved me, and I knew you didn’t care really, for the star; and I liked my own best. So—I just came home.’

“‘We’re glad, Merope,’ said Andromeda. ‘We love you best like this.’

“And every one of the Star People felt the same.”

“We do too, Dearie,”said Phyllisy. “That was the best ending.”

Pat and the Kitten wriggled and nodded, and the Princess smiled at them, but she held up her finger for them to wait for the very end.

“Then it was Merope’s turn to ask a question. But it didn’t occur to her until a little later.

“The sisters were dancing—the very prettiest and most twirly of the ‘Sailor’s Knots’—and Merope was the centre of the twist, when she stopped short and asked:—

THE SISTERS WERE DANCING—THE VERY PRETTIEST AND MOST TWIRLY OF THE
“SAILOR’S KNOTS”
]

“‘When will the Stranger be here?’

“The Star People looked at each other in complete astonishment. They had forgotten all about him.

“‘He isn’t coming,’ said Orion, after a pause.

“‘How do you know he isn’t?’ asked Hercules.

“‘The same way we knew he _was_,’ answered Orion.

“‘I’d jutht like to know who thtarted that thtory,’ said Draco. ‘I believe it wath a comet!’

“‘So do I,’ said Cassiopeia.”

“Truly was it?” asked the Kitten.

“What do you think?” asked the Princess.

Then all the questions they had kept inside of them began to come out, and they lasted down the hill—very jerky, on account of having to run or slip—and most of the long way back. But there was time beside to gather more leaves to take the place of those they had forgotten and left safe under small stones on the hill-top!

There were thousands and thousands of them fallen, too beautiful to pass over, so it was just as well.

XI
TORQUILLON’S LAIR

Precisely when the clock had struck three there came three raps on the door. (There had been shuffling, whispering noises, and a squeak like a mouse before, very small, but different from the sound of the rain against the windows.)

“Come in!” said the Princess; and there entered the very ones she expected to see, because it was an appointment.

The first thing, she wanted to ask them if they didn’t think it would be comforting to have a fire in the fireplace, to look at.

The Others instantly thought it would. Miss Phyllisy shivered her shoulders when she thought it, and the Kitten shivered hers when she saw Miss Phyllisy. But Pat did not shiver, because none of them was truly chilly, only it was such a disconsolate day, with cold gray coming in at the windows and the corners dark, and large doleful brown leaves hanging sodden from a branch and beating back and forth in the rain.

The Princess was sure they would feel that way about the fire, and she thought they wouldn’t mind the trouble of starting it themselves, it was so jolly to see the first blaze. And they didn’t mind in the least; they loved it.

It was laid ready—large logs and small pieces to kindle it, but they were very busy for several minutes, changing the small pieces as Miss Phyllisy wanted them, because she had a talent for fires.

When it was arranged to suit her, the Kitten struck the match and lighted the paper—and they all stood quite still while a flame stole around, weaving in and out, and the blackened paper drew up where it passed. A round puffing smoke rose above and sharp red tongues flipped out at the top—a fine crackle began to sound—then came a broad roar. The next minute flames were wrapping around the great logs, the whole length of them, and blazing up the chimney, and the room to the farthest corner and across the ceiling was full of moving firelight, with little fires winking from everything shiny in it—even the raindrops chasing down the panes. It was surprising, the change it made. Now, the miserable day outside only made them more cosy and contented, here by Miss Phyllisy’s beautiful fire, where their Princess sat ready to tell them a most especial story that she would love to have them hear. But, as Prudence said, it wouldn’t be wise to begin while the fire needed attention, and there was no hurry. So they watched the first blaze pass off; then the logs settled and fell apart, and they poked them and put on one more, and Pat set the fender in place.

The new log sputtered a minute before the blaze began to eat it. They watched a few minutes longer, to be sure it was all right; and it was. The Princess said she never had seen a more satisfactory fire,—and likely to last.

So Pat and the Kitten curled up in the pillows on the broad couch in the corner near the fireplace, and Phyllisy sat on a stool at the end of the hearth, where she could reach the poker without interrupting, if it should be necessary. The Princess was in her large chair, drawn up a little way off. The rings on her clasped hands glittered, and there was a big rosette on the toe of her slipper, pointed out toward the glow. The firelight shone in her eyes and they looked very joyful, and her lips were smiling before she began to speak.

“The Jane Ellen,” said the Princess softly, making the name long, as if she liked to say it, and the Others wriggled as if they liked to hear,—“the Jane Ellen was a very busy ship, and made important journeys, carrying splendid cargoes from port to port; but she sailed so fast when she was going straight on that the Captain always had time to stop on the way to attend to any little thing that needed it, or to be obliging and kind—like the time when they arranged about the Sailor’s Star.

“Now if you had sailed on the Jane Ellen on one of the most interesting cruises she ever made, you would have come to a place where a long point of land ran out for miles into the sea. The point ended in a great rock that looked like the head and shoulders of a lion, coming out of the forest that covered the hills back of him, and roaring because he couldn’t get across to the point of a very large island that lay in the sea opposite. There was another great rock that made the point of the island (as if they were two gate posts), and this rock was the head of a man, frowning and dark; and one would hardly know which he was angriest with; the Lion, or any one who tried to pass through the gateway.

“Besides the large island, there were a great many smaller ones—like a flock of ducks—and between them the water was shallow. So ships that wanted to pass that way had either to go through the dark Gateway, between the Roaring Lion and the Frowning Man, or else turn away to the south and sail miles and miles out of their course, around that whole flock of islands. And a great many ships did want to go that way; for it led to a land where the pearls were as large as gooseberries and all lovely tropical things grew because they couldn’t help it.

“It isn’t pleasant to have even a rock man look as if he would like to bite off one’s bowsprit, or crowd one over into the jaws of a roaring lion; but they were only rocks with a good passage between, and no captain who was in the least bit of a hurry would have hesitated one minute, or even thought of sailing around those hundreds of islands on their account. But every captain who sailed the sea knew that, once inside that Gateway, he would come into the haunt of Torquillon, the Waterspout. And that was reason enough for any ship to go miles the other way.”

(Torquillon was a stranger to the Others, but they nodded as if they thought it was an excellent reason. The story was beginning in a way that made them very quiet, not wanting to interrupt.)

“Now when the Jane Ellen passed that way, if the Captain were not on deck and the Mate was commanding the ship, he liked to sail close to the Gateway instead of taking the shortest way to go around the islands, because he was not so old as the Captain, and he never had had so much as a glimpse of Torquillon.

“This time that I’ve begun to tell you about, the Captain was taking a nap, and Taffy had things his own way as they came into that part of the ocean.

“‘How’s the wind, Quartermaster?’ he said to the man at the wheel.

“‘Sou’west-by-south, sir,’ answered the Quartermaster.

“Taffy looked up at the sails and the clouds and out over the sea—as if he were making up his mind, instead of knowing all the time what he meant to do! Then he said to the Quartermaster:—

“‘Keep her as she is until we reach this point,’ and he made a little mark on the chart, right near the large island; ‘then we’ll make a long run to the south.’

“‘Ay, ay, sir,’ said the Quartermaster. But when the Mate turned away to walk for’ard, he drew up one side of his face so it was all bias, and winked at the Bos’n!

“Taffy went into his own cabin, and came out again with a long spy-glass in his hand. He walked to the foot of the foremast-shrouds and rested the spy-glass in the ratlines to steady it, and looked toward the place where the Gateway led into Torquillon’s Lair.

“And the Jane Ellen was sailing so fast that he hadn’t been looking long before he saw a little gray hump on the edge of the water, that he knew was the large island. Then he put down the glass and waited a little while. The next time he looked, both the island and the mainland showed plainly, with a little, little gap between.

“But he never could spend much time doing what he liked without being interrupted, so very soon he put down the glass and went below to see why Tom Green hadn’t polished the binnacle.

“While he was gone the Jane Ellen kept sailing on; and by the time he came back the Gateway showed even without the glass. And when Taffy had the glass steady once more and looked through it, he saw a dark speck on the water, outside the Lion’s head. He looked for a moment, then he called, ‘Bos’n!’

“‘Ay, ay, sir,’ said the Bos’n, coming up. Taffy handed him the glass.

“‘See what you make of that?’

“The Bos’n took the glass and looked carefully. Then he rubbed the small end with a loose fold of his shirt, and looked again.

“‘It looks to me like a brig, sir. She’s hove-to; and she’s lost some of her riggin’,’ he said.

“Taffy took the glass, and while he was looking, who should come along but the Captain! He had just stepped out of his cabin, and was surprised to see the island so near.

“‘Why are we here, Mr. Morganwg?’ he asked. ‘Aren’t we out of our course?’

“‘We are, sir, a little,’ said Taffy. ‘But that’s because the wind is sou’west-by-south. I thought we’d make better time this way.’

“‘And go by that Gateway, too,’ said the Captain; and he looked at the Bos’n and laughed. The Bos’n laughed too, so Taffy felt a wee bit foolish, and he thought he’d rather talk about something else. So he said, ‘There’s a ship lying over there, in distress.’

“‘Let me see,’ said the Captain, taking the glass. ‘Sure enough! We must go and see what is the matter.’”

“Everybody knew he wanted to go, didn’t they?” said Pat.

“Everybody,” said the Princess. “But they were all eager, now, to go to the rescue.

“So the Jane Ellen sailed on fast, and drew nearer and nearer to the brig; and when they were near enough to see, she was a sight!

“Some of her rigging was gone, and halyards and bowlines and braces and all kinds of ropes and sails were trailing in the water; and a flag of distress flip-flip-flipping in the breeze over it all.

“It was the Reindeer brig, and her captain was a friend of the captain of the Jane Ellen. So when they were hove-to, beside the Reindeer, the Captain—with the Mate standing by—was very glad to welcome his friend on board.

“‘Now, tell us all about what has happened to the Reindeer,’ he said.

“The captain of the brig was a short man with bright black eyes, and he _hated_ to wait for anything. When he wanted a thing, he wanted it that very minute; and when he sent a man on an errand he often went after him before he had time to come back, because it seemed so long to him. His name was Gryller, but Skipper seemed to suit him exactly, so he was very seldom called Captain Gryller.

“When he came aboard the Jane Ellen, he could hardly wait for the proper greetings to be over before he began to tell his story. He spoke very fast; the words pattered, clean, and there sounded a great many _rr_’s in them.

“‘It’s that Waterspout!’ he said. ‘He’s played the mischief with my rrigging!’

“‘What? Torquillon?’ asked the Captain.

“‘Certainly. Did you ever hear of any other waterspout hereabouts? I didn’t. He took my main-to’gal’n’mast at the first whack!’

“‘But where was he?’ asked the Captain.

“‘Chasing _me_!’ said the Skipper, indignantly.

“‘Out here?’ asked the Captain, perfectly surprised. And he looked at the Lion and the Man, to see if Torquillon were peeping out.

“‘No!’ exclaimed the Skipper, loudly. ‘Inside.’

“‘_Inside!_’ said the Captain, even louder. ‘What were you doing there?’

“‘Going through, of course!’ shouted the Skipper. ‘Do you suppose I was trying to anchorr?’ and he almost danced on the deck, he was so impatient.

“The Captain looked at him. Then he said in his ordinary voice:—

“‘We’re neither of us deaf, and there isn’t a gale of wind; and will you please begin at the beginning, and tell me what you did do?’

“‘That’s just what I was trying to do; but you interrupted.’

“‘Because you began in the middle.’

“‘How could any one begin in the middle? The place where you begin _is_ the beginning!’

“‘Well, what made you go through there, anyway?’ asked the Captain. (He wasn’t quite sure whether the beginning was the middle or the end or the other end, he felt so tangled up.)

“‘I didn’t go through,’ insisted the Skipper. ‘Didn’t I just tell you?’

“‘Then, will you tell me what you did do?’

“‘I starrted to go.’

“‘Why?’

“‘Why does a hen run across the road?’ asked the Skipper.

“‘To get to the other side,’ answered the Captain; and, ‘Because she can’t go ’round it,’ said Taffy.

“‘Which is it?’ asked the Captain.

“‘Both,’ said the Skipper. ‘I wanted to get to the other side, and I didn’t want to go around all those islands. It’s ridiculous, with that good passage through, to go miles out of the way because of that Waterspout—and I hadn’t the time to spend.’

“‘I don’t see that you’ve saved very much,’ said the Captain.

“‘I should have—if I’d gone through. It’s all very well for you; but every ship is not as fast as the Jane Ellen. Anyway, I made up my mind to try, and I got halfway through before that fellow caught me. But then he did smash me up like kingdom-come! and I had to box-haul her, and come back.’

“‘What do you want to do now?’ asked the Captain.

“‘I hoped a ship would come along and let me have some extra spars to make the Reindeer ship-shape; and then—I’ve got a Plan;’ and he stopped, and looked very mysterious and important.

“‘Are you going in again?’ asked Taffy, hoping he would say Yes—and he did.

“‘Yes, I am. And you’re going too.’

“‘I don’t know whether I am, or not,’ said the Captain. ‘What for?’

“‘I want to bottle up that Waterspout, and clear that passage so ships can go through there safely.’

“‘You don’t want to do much!’ said the Captain. ‘Have you thought how you could do it?’

“‘Yes, I know all about it. It’s no use to run him down; for he just spills and comes up again; and you can’t tie him up. But I noticed, about halfway through the passage there is a little island. It’s hardly large enough to call an island—just a flat-topped rock, not much above the water. In that rock there is a deep hollow. Now, I think we might lead Torquillon such a chase that he would trip over the island and spill into the hole. Then we could cover him over, quick, with a big tarpaulin, and afterward roof him in solid, so he never could get out. Don’t you think that would be worth spending a little time to do?’

“‘Yes,’ said the Captain. ‘If we could do it.’

“‘We can’t, of course, if we don’t try!’ said the Skipper. ‘Will you do it?’

“‘One thing at a time,’ said the Captain in that sensible way that is so annoying when one has an idea. ‘We’ll rig the Reindeer first—and consider about it.’

“And that was all he would say, though it seemed as if the Skipper couldn’t stand it, not to have it settled that very minute. But the Captain lent him some extra spars and his ship’s carpenter and some men, and they set to work; and before they knew it, almost, the Reindeer was ship-shape again, and looked as good as new.

“Except the Jane Ellen—that was a full-rigged ship anyway—there wasn’t a prettier little brig on the high seas. Captain Gryller had had her painted brown, dappled with lighter spots on her sides and two large light spots on her stern, because he meant to call her the Reindeer. And he didn’t care whether that was like a reindeer or a moose or a stag or a wapiti, or none of them; he liked it that way.

“While they were working, the Captain considered. And the more he considered, the more he didn’t know whether it would be one bit of use; but the less he wanted to go sailing away around all those islands without trying to bottle up that waterspout and clear the passage for all the ships that should come after.

“And Taffy never considered a minute. He didn’t know, and he didn’t much care, whether they could bottle up anything, or not; he thought only, some way or other, he _must_ go in at that Gateway between the Lion and the Man, and see what was inside. So when the Captain called him into his cabin to consult with him, I think you can guess what kind of advice Taffy gave.”

(The children looked as if they could very easily. They would have given the same themselves.)

“When the Skipper came aboard for his answer, he found there was no persuasion needed; but they could begin at once to lay their plans very carefully for what they should do when they were once inside. The Skipper drew a chart, the way he remembered it, and they laid their course, just how they would sail, and settled everything so that there could be no mistake.

“At last the Captain said: ‘There! I think that’s all. And we can make a start the first thing in the morning.’

“‘_To-morrow morning!_’ shouted the Skipper. ‘Shiver my timbers! Do you think we can wait forever?’

“‘Nobody wants to wait so long as that,’ said the Captain. ‘But it’s too late to go in to-day. You don’t want to be caught in there in the dark.’

“‘Who’s going to be caught?’ asked the Skipper. ‘I’m not. And we’re going in _to-day_!’

“‘We’re going in _to-morrow_,’ said the Captain, just as firmly. The Skipper turned huffy.

“‘I’d like to know who’s planning this,’ he said.

“‘You are,’ said the Captain. ‘And I don’t think it’s much of a plan—whoever made it! And if you’re so set, we’ll go now,—the time may be as good as the plan,—but it’s too late!’

“‘It’s nearly the longest days in the year,’ said the Skipper. As if that wouldn’t have made it all the easier to wait for morning!”

“Then it was a wrong argument,” remarked Phyllisy.

“Yes; but he didn’t think long enough to see it.

“So, because he was so impatient, just after three bells of the second watch of the afternoon had struck, the Jane Ellen and the Reindeer weighed their anchors and made sail, and advanced side by side, like two white swans, to the Gateway that led into Torquillon’s Lair.

“There were always clouds hanging over it; and they lowered dark over the Frowning Man, so he scowled harder than ever as they passed out of the sunshine that made their sails shine white as snowdrifts, into the shadow of the cloud that suddenly turned them gray.

“But they sailed boldly by, close under his nose; and Taffy looked curiously, to see what sort of place they had come into.

“It was a fine open stretch of sea. The mainland curved back from the point into a great bay, so large that the point at the farther side of it was only a distant gray streak. The flock of islands lay at the right, and separated it from the wide ocean. High mountains rose up on the mainland, and the islands, too, were like mountaintops; but graceful palm trees and bananas and other lovely green things grew among the craggy rocks.

“Now, as they passed into the shadow of the great dark cloud and sailed under the nose of the Rock Man, a little wind, that lived in a cave on the large island, cried:—

“‘Whoooooo-uuuuuu-eeeEEE—!’ and struck, first the Jane Ellen, then the Reindeer, on the starboard bow, so that they heeled over to port; but they went steadily on.

“Then another little wind, that lived in a rocky gorge on the point of land back of the roaring Lion, began to whisper:—

“‘Wh-h-i-i-is-sssss-sh-sSH—!’ and blew the Reindeer and the Jane Ellen along from over the stern. The sails shivered and the sailors swung the yards; then the sails filled and the ships went right on.

“Another wind lived in a beautiful valley, where a waterfall came tumbling down, like a white ribbon, over the edge of the cliff, and while the first two winds were still whispering and crying, this wind woke up and shouted:

“‘Whooooooooo-eeeeeee-ooooop!’ and came tearing over the green water, splashing it up in white foam under his feet as he ran to meet the Jane Ellen and the Reindeer, that were swinging on, down the wide channel.

“Then, wakened by the whispering and shouting and crying, other little winds came racing out of their crannies on the islands and in the mountains, and all scurried after the Reindeer and the Jane Ellen, until they couldn’t tell, to save them, which was the lee and which the weather shore! And these winds were little, only compared with the great winds that travel over the whole Earth. They were large enough for this land-locked sea; and the Jane Ellen and the Reindeer found them all they cared to meet. But the two ships were sailed so well they rode weatherly under storm-sails; and by continually trimming sails and bracing yards and luffing and doing numberless other things that sailors know all about—and you and I don’t understand a bit of—they kept on their course down the channel, looking on every side for Torquillon, the selfish Waterspout who claimed it for his own, and wouldn’t let any one pass through. As if there weren’t room for him and them too!

“They had not gone far before the whistling of the winds, like barking watch-dogs, roused Torquillon; and he raised his head to see who was coming into his waters.

“The Captain was sailing the Jane Ellen himself, so Taffy was free to watch; and far ahead, just under a black cloud that hung very low, he saw the dark water rise in a mound.

“That was only for a moment, and it dropped back again. But the winds had seen their Master; and—as if he had called them to him—they rushed from all sides, whistling and crying and whooping, and left the Jane Ellen and the Reindeer with sails drooping in the sudden calm, while they circled to the spot where Torquillon’s head had pushed above the water.

“And as they reached him he rose with one powerful leap from the waves, and caught the dark sagging cloud, pulling it down behind his head, swinging and twisting as the winds flung themselves upon him, and filled the cloud that floated like a banner and served for a sail. And then he caught sight of the two ships, and the chase began!

“Down the channel he came flying; and the Reindeer and the Jane Ellen waited, side by side, their sails hanging idly in the dead calm, and the sailors all standing by the braces to be ready when the winds struck them. And now Taffy had his wish; for no one ever had a better chance to see a monstrous Waterspout.

“As he whirled and twisted, his long trailing robes wound close about his feet, then curved out again, smooth and black in the water, like the curves of a lily-petal. They looked quite black to Taffy; but as the light struck through the edges and thin folds, he saw that they were green—like the green water under him. And following after, leaping, snarling, jumping at the edges of his robes, the white foaming waves joined in the chase, and came rushing, whirling down on the two motionless ships.

“‘Wh-iiii-sss-shoooouuuuuu-eeeeEEE—!’ shrieked the winds, and the next instant Torquillon would have had them—but just in time the sails filled; and off flew the Jane Ellen to the right, and off darted the Reindeer to the left, and left him hanging in the wind, because he

DOWN THE CHANNEL HE CAME FLYING
]

couldn’t chase both at once, and didn’t know which to follow first.

“But it didn’t take him long to decide. He had seen the Reindeer before; and it made him very angry to see that she had come back as good as new. He swung his black banner high over his head, so that it caught the wind from the large island, and tore after the white spots on the stern of the brown Reindeer, that showed plainly although it was beginning to be dusk.

“The Captain had said it was too late to go in that night; and here was their work just begun, and very little more daylight to do it in, but he didn’t say, ‘I told you so,’ even to Taffy; but did his best to carry out the plan.

“When Torquillon was almost within reach of the Reindeer, he glanced aside and saw the Jane Ellen slipping along down the channel, and seeming about to escape him altogether. With a howl of rage he turned and flew after her instead. Then the Reindeer had her chance, and she turned down the channel as if she were going to escape. So, crossing and turning, the two ships dodged under the nose of that angry Waterspout, who was in such a rage it was very easy to bewilder him.

“And always they drew him nearer and nearer to the flat little island with the hollowed rock where they planned to seal him up forever, when he should have tripped into it.

“The winds shrieked and screamed from all sides, and the clouds pressed down, thick and black. But just before they reached the island, the sunset light broke through a narrow rift in the clouds, and shone through the gap between the Lion and the Rock Man; and all the foaming crests of the waves and the edges of Torquillon’s robes turned to fiery gold; and down his dark sides and in the black curves about his feet were blood-red streaks; and the great sable banner over his head burst into crimson flame!

“Then the Jane Ellen passed the island, and Torquillon tore after in his crimson fury, never heeding where he went—and the rock directly in his path. The Reindeer scudded after, the sailors on both ships standing by to lower the boats, with the wide tarpaulin ready to cover him over. And the Skipper fairly danced up and down on the deck in his excitement and delight to think how near they were to success. And Torquillon was almost on the rock!—when up went his feet, and on went the flaming scarlet sail—with the purple hollow on the side away from the sun—and carried him clean over, without even touching it; though the waves that followed crashed and boiled to the very top, and covered the rock from sight!

“Then the clouds closed in—black and heavy—and night had come almost in a minute. And there were the Jane Ellen and the Reindeer in the middle of an inland sea, without a star to guide them, the winds raging and shrieking about, and a furious Waterspout at their heels!”

The Princess stopped—as if that could possibly be the end of it!

“Oh, Dearie! You can’t have the heart to leave them like that,” Phyllisy remonstrated. “We’re so excited.”

“I’m pretty excited myself, Miss Phyllisy,” said the Princess. “I’d like to rest a few minutes. What should you say to a few chocolates? You might look at the box, at least, if you don’t care to eat them. It’s a very pretty one.”

“Where is it?” asked Pat.

When she brought it to the Princess, they all crowded around her chair and admired the outside of the box. Then she lifted the cover slowly, to show the chocolates packed in rows of different shapes with crimpy paper, and little tongs to pick up the kind they wanted. And the Princess let them go down to the under layers to see if they were different.

Still, they were very anxious to go on and find out what happened; and when the Princess had rested and Phyllisy had attended to the fire—it would have needed it soon any way—they went back to their old places and the Princess began again.

“You know how Old Sol stays a little while every year in each of the Houses of the Zodiac?

“It happened, when he glanced through the long slit in the clouds at Torquillon and the two ships, that he was making his visit to the Gemini Brothers; and that was very fortunate, because it gave him an idea.

“It was only a glimpse he had of that chase, but it was enough to show him that it was going to be hard times for the Jane Ellen and the Reindeer unless something were done for them before it was too late. And Castor and Pollux were right at hand and able to do it, so it was the most natural thing that he should send them.”

“And they’re specially for sailors—friends,” remarked Pat.

“Specially; Sol knew it. ‘Now’s your chance,’ he said, ‘you ground-and-lofty tumblers. Tumble right down, or that wicked Torquillon will have the Jane Ellen and the Reindeer made into kindling wood—if they don’t run ashore first, in the dark.’

“The darkness came so suddenly on the ships when the clouds closed down in the West, that it was bewildering. And they were so surprised and disappointed that Torquillon had not fallen into the trap they had laid for him that they hardly knew what to do.

“Fortunately, the same darkness that confused them confused him, too; but it was not long before the chase began again. Now the ships had no thought of anything but of how they should escape: and whether it was better to go back or forward they didn’t know. The darkness grew blacker and blacker, and they flew wildly back and forth—until they had no idea where they were, nor where the entrance lay, and could only guess where Torquillon was by the shrieking of the wild winds.

“Once he passed so close to the Reindeer that he nipped off her flying-jib-boom. But the flying jib was not set, of course, in that weather, so it didn’t much matter; and he carried a trysail on the Jane Ellen out of the gaskets with a crack like a cannon. Still they were managing to escape him, when, as the ships happened to be close together, and Torquillon was raging down the channel some distance away, trying to find them in the darkness, Taffy heard a sound—different from the screeching of the winds in the rigging—and it seemed to come from the foremast of the Jane Ellen.

“As he listened to the sound, like music, he looked up at the place from whence it came, and above the ends of the topsail yards were two glowing flames of pure white fire that threw a faint light on the deck, and the music grew clearer to his ears.

“And in a moment, all the men on both ships were looking and listening. But some could hear only the wind in the rigging and see two little lights hovering about the mast. Some could see and hear a little more; and Taffy,—because he was a Welshman and had a young heart,—more plainly than all, saw, standing lightly on the yards, high, high in the air, the twin brothers, Castor and Pollux! Young and strong, and with star-tipped spears in their hands and helmets on their heads with the white, flaming star streaming from the top like a plume.

“The Captain, who had a young heart, heard the music of their singing, though he couldn’t tell the words, but he looked at Taffy—and his eyes were shining, so the Captain knew he understood, and that the beautiful Star People wanted to save them, and that Taffy was the one

STANDING LIGHTLY ON THE YARDS, HIGH, HIGH IN THE AIR, THE TWIN
BROTHERS CASTOR AND POLLUX
]

to help them do it. So he said softly, ‘Mr. Morganwg, you may take command.’

“Taffy only nodded, he was watching and listening so intently. And the Shining Brothers were singing:—

“Follow through the darkness
Where the Lion roars,
Where the Rock Man, scowling,
Marks Torquillon’s shores;

“Through the Gateway flying,
From his fury free,—
Follow, Taffy, follow
To the open sea!

“They pointed their star-tipped spears and Taffy gave his orders: and fast and faster sped the Jane Ellen through the black waters, the Reindeer following, led by the gleaming flames on her topsail yards—though the Skipper couldn’t hear a sound of the music nor see anything more than the little lights, because he wasn’t a Welshman, and if he had a young heart, he was too impatient to listen to what it said.

“Torquillon, too, saw the little flames of fire, and saw how fast they flew, and he knew the ships were escaping. And with the winds howling and shrieking (they were hoarse by this time, you may believe, for they had had no rest for two hours), and the waves snapping at his heels, he came tearing once more up the channel—after the Jane Ellen and the Reindeer, that were flying for their lives!

“And when they reached the Gateway and slipped by the roaring Lion’s jaws, Torquillon was so close he couldn’t stop himself, and dashed his whole height against the towering rock!

“It was like the crash of a hundred great breakers at once on a rocky beach; and he slipped and splashed down the streaming rock, into the sea at the foot of it, while the Jane Ellen and the Reindeer passed safely out, to the singing of the Star Brothers:—

“Follow, follow safely,
To the open sea!