Kisington Town Part 7

"A lion pa.s.sant is one of the emblems in my own royal coat of arms!"

"Then, Your Majesty has not heard the tale of the Lion Pa.s.sant?" asked Harold, feigning surprise. "It is one of the best known in our land. You will find your royal lion in the arms of our city of Derrydown; and there is a tale to account for that."

Harold began to smile as if the memory of the tale pleased him.

Red Rex frowned. "It is too late to hear that tale to-night," he murmured.

"Yes, Your Majesty," agreed Harold. "Besides, I cannot tell it by heart.

I should have to get the book from our generous library. I can read it better; there is so much in the manner of the writing. It is a pity Your Majesty is in such a hurry to fight, or I might bring that book hither to-morrow and read you the pleasant tale."

The Red King fidgeted. "I am losing time at a terrible rate!" he growled. "Think of what harm I might be doing! When have I wasted hours like this, you wheedling boy?"

"I do not think these hours are wasted. It is war that wastes," said Harold.

"Fudge!" retorted Red Rex; "we must have war. Was that lion a red lion, Harold?"

"A red lion, Your Majesty," nodded Harold.

The Red King grew excited. "I must, then, hear about him!" he cried. "It is my duty.--What ho, there!" he shouted to his men who were making ready to continue the siege. "I have changed my mind. We will not fight for another day. Take this boy back to the city, and proclaim continued truce until he returns to us."

"Your Majesty is wise," said Harold with shining eyes. "I think you will not be sorry to hear the tale of the Lion Pa.s.sant."

So the crisis was delayed for another day; and Kisington blessed Harold.

They made a feast at the poor widow's cottage from presents sent by the Leading Citizens. Richard and Robert sat at the head of the table, one on each side of Harold, and all his other boy and girl friends sat down the sides of the table, and he told them all about his adventure with the besieging King. One and all begged him to let them go with him on the following day. But this, of course, Harold could not promise. He was the only one who could read well enough to charm the War-Lord. They all wished that they had learned to read as well as Harold.

When on the morrow Harold returned to the Red King, this is the story which he read from one of the peaceful books of Kisington--the story of _The Lion Pa.s.sant_.

X. THE LION Pa.s.sANT

A long time ago, in one of the narrowest side-streets of Kisington, stood an old curiosity shop, full of strange things. It was a dark little den inside, so dark that the outer sunshine made the old shopman blink as he stood in the doorway talking with the stranger. The stranger was a Medicine Man, and he had just sold a bottle of his famous Elixir of Life to the old shopkeeper.

"Yes, sir," said the Medicine Man, as he turned to go, "you will find my Magic Elixir all that I claim it to be. It will bring back youth and beauty to the aged. It will give sight to eyes that see not, hearing to deaf ears, speech to the tongue-tied and motion to limbs that have never moved before. It will also cure whooping-cough."

"I hope so," said the old man in an eager voice. He had heard only one word in six of the stranger's talk. "I hope so, for I need it very much.

Shall I take it all at once, or--" But already the Medicine Man was halfway down the road, with the gold coin which the old man had given him safe in his deepest pocket. The old man returned into his shop, blinking more than ever, and stumbling over the piled-up rubbish as he went. It was an abominably crowded little room. Each corner, each shelf, each hook in wall or ceiling was occupied. Everything was piled high or filled up with something else.

In the midst of all kinds of curiosities, the Lion Pa.s.sant stood waiting. He had been waiting there so many years that the Old Curiosity Shop man had quite given up hope that any one would ever come for him.

The Lion was very old; older than the shop, older than the old man who kept it, older than anything else in the shop--and that was saying much.

The Lion was cobwebby and scarred; but, notwithstanding, he was a fine figure of a beast. He had been finely carved out of oak and colored a warm gules, though now somewhat faded. He was carved in the att.i.tude of marching along a parti-colored pole of gules and silver. His dexter paw was raised in the air, his red tongue hung out and his tail was curved gracefully over his back. There was something which I cannot exactly describe of grand and dignified about the Lion Pa.s.sant,--what the books call a "decayed gentility."

[Ill.u.s.tration: HE STOOD IN THE DOORWAY TALKING WITH THE STRANGER]

The old man stumbled and blinked his way toward the door at the rear of the shop. He was eager to try the Elixir of Life and become young again, and he hurried faster than was wise in the shadowy labyrinth. Just as he was opposite the Lion Pa.s.sant, he caught his foot in a sprawling chair and stumbled forward, with both arms stretched out to save himself. Away flew the bottle of Elixir, _smash_! against the head of the Lion Pa.s.sant.

The gla.s.s shivered into a thousand pieces, and the precious golden drops went trickling down over the carved beast, over the table, onto the floor, where it made a dusty pool about the feet of a cracked china cat.

"Oh, me! Oh, me!" groaned the old man. "All my precious youth wasted, and no money left to buy more! Oh, me! What an unlucky day it is!" And he stumbled out to tell his wife all about it. Now, as soon as he had left the shop, strange things began to happen there.

"Marry, come up!" exclaimed the Lion, licking his red tongue. "I am a-weary of this. My leg is asleep." And he set down the dexter paw, which he had been holding in that position for four hundred years or more.

"Wow!" cried the China Cat from the floor. "My cracks are growing together again! I believe I am as good as new!" And she arched her back and yawned.

The Lion lashed his tail once, to be sure that he could really do it, and looked about the shop in disgust. "I must away!" he said.

"Oh!" cried the Cat, lazily, beginning to lick her paw, as if she had always been doing so since the discovery of China. "You are so restless!

Where are you going?"

The Lion stepped gingerly down from his striped pole to the table, and from there to the floor. As he did so, he seemed to increase in size, so that by the time he had reached the shop door he was as large as an ordinary lion. "I am going to seek _Them_," said the Lion, with dignity.

"I am, as you see, a Lion Pa.s.sant, the crest of a n.o.ble house. Many years I have been separated from my people. I have waited for Them to come for me. Every time the shop-bell tinkled it has waked an echo of hope in my heart. But They do not come; I must, then, go to Them." He sighed deeply.

"How will you know where to find them?" asked the Cat, respectfully.

"I shall seek Them in the halls of the mighty," said the Lion proudly.

"They were of the n.o.blest in the land, I remember."

"By what name shall you know them?" asked the Cat again, who was inquisitive.

The Lion became thoughtful. "The name?" he repeated. "The name? I have forgot the name. But I was the crest that They bore in battle, the figure on their shields, the carving above their hearths."

"Yes, but times have changed, folk say," objected the Cat. "How shall you know your people among the New Ones?"

"I shall recognize Them," said the Lion confidently. "I shall know Them, the proudest, the mightiest, the bravest, and most fair. Besides, is there not the family tradition? Once, in the far ages before even I was carved, the first knight of our line had an adventure with a lion; hence my figure upon Their crest. I know not the tale complete; but this I know--that from that time on, no one of Them has been able to see a lion, to speak or hear the name, without sneezing thrice. So it was in that day, so it has been ever since."

"That, indeed, is something definite," yawned the Cat, as the Lion stalked out into the sunshine. "Well, I'm glad I have no tradition but one of comfort." And she curled herself up on a piece of ancient gold brocade.

So the Lion went forth to seek his people. He had not gone far before he overtook the Medicine Man, who had sold no Elixir since leaving the Curiosity Shop. The Lion padded up behind him so silently that the man did not hear him until he was quite close; then the Lion gave a gentle roar.

"Abracadabra!" cried the man, turning pale and shaking till his teeth rattled. He was so ignorant that he did not know a Heraldic Device when he saw one. But he had seen pictures in books and knew that this brilliant red beast was no ordinary lion.

"Kind youth," said the Lion grandly, lifting his paw and curving his tail in the old way, "I owe you much. Your Magic Elixir has given me life and motion. If there is aught I can do for you, I shall be glad."

The man's face was full of wonder. "You owe much to the Elixir?" he cried. "Oh, pray explain!"

So the Lion explained. When he had finished the simple story, the Medicine Man's face was illumined with a great idea. "It is magnificent!" he cried. "It is beyond my wildest dreams. For, to tell you the truth--but why tell the truth? This justifies me, certainly.

Now, if you would but go with me as a Living Testimonial?"

The Lion bowed. He did not like the idea, for it threatened notoriety; but he felt a sense of duty. "_n.o.blesse oblige_," he murmured. "It is Our motto. Nothing can hurt my pride, if it has a foundation upon truth.

I will go with you until I feel that my debt is paid."

"It is well!" said the man. And they journeyed together. Naturally, the appearance of a warm crimson lion caused considerable excitement in the streets of Kisington. Folk crowded around him and the Medicine Man, and when they heard his story, they bought eagerly of the Elixir. "He is the crest of a n.o.ble house come to life!" they whispered among themselves.

"What n.o.ble house?" The Lion listened eagerly for the answer; but heads were shaken in reply. No one recognized the device.

There was one thing which annoyed the Lion. This was the tendency of the Medicine Man to exaggerate the powers of his Elixir. As time went on, he began to add the oddest stories to the one he told about the Lion. Was that not wonderful enough? The Lion was astonished, shocked, outraged.

He protested, but in vain. The habit of exaggeration, once contracted, becomes a terrible master. The Medicine Man seemed unable longer to speak the truth.

One morning when he was telling his wicked lies to a company of trusting women and children, the Lion rose from the center of the eager circle and stalked away from the Medicine Man. "_n.o.blesse oblige_," he said.

And they never saw each other again. I dare say the seller of the Elixir and his descendants have been doing business in the same way ever since.