Kisington Town Part 8

Now, the Lion journeyed for many months through the Kingdom without finding a trace of his family. He scanned carefully the entrance to every great palace and castle. He caused some confusion in traffic by dashing out to examine the crests emblazoned upon the panels of the chariots which pa.s.sed him on the road. He even halted foot-pa.s.sengers to inquire, courteously, if he might look more closely at certain devices upon chain or brooch or bangle which had caught his eye. Especially, he surprised with his attentions several persons who had sneezed violently in his presence. But in vain. He failed to find the clue he sought.

Folk would fain have helped him in his search; for his manners were gentle and gracious, and his bearing unmistakably n.o.ble. Folk liked him.

Many would have been glad to prove themselves, through him, scions of that great family which he undoubtedly represented. But all their efforts to sneeze at the right time were fruitless. They went away crestfallen before his reproachful gaze. Sometimes, the Lion would spy a lovely face, or a manly figure, which appealed strangely to him.

"Surely," he would say to himself, "surely, this n.o.ble-looking person is one of Them. Something seems to tell me so!" And he would a.s.sume his heraldic pose, with dexter paw lifted and eloquent tail curved high, waiting wistfully for the sneeze of recognition to follow. Sometimes, alas! came, instead, a laugh of scorn, or an unkind word. He learned that n.o.ble figures and lovely faces do not always adorn like natures.

Well, many months pa.s.sed by. Footsore and weary, the Lion still traveled upon his quest. He felt very old and lonesome, homesick for his marble halls, hopeless of finding them. He came, one noon, to an inn on the outskirts of Derrydown Village. Over the door of the inn a signboard creaked and flapped in the wind. The Lion looked up. He beheld upon the sign the picture of a red lion! The traveler was greatly moved.

"Surely," he thought, "this must be the arms of some great family in the neighborhood--perhaps my ancestral castle is hereabout!" But when he explained things to the Landlord, that worthy dashed his hopes once more. No family with such a device was known in those parts.

"However," said the Landlord, eyeing the Lion appraisingly, "I have an idea! If you will remain with me for some hours, I will show you something. The Prince and his train are to pa.s.s here on their way to the Ancient Wood, where they will hunt. In the company will be all the grandest n.o.bles of the Kingdom. Surely, some of your family will be among them. Here is a splendid viewpoint! Do you remain beside my door in your grand att.i.tude. You will see and be seen. If your folks are there, you will be sneezed at; which is what you want. It will be, beside, a grand advertis.e.m.e.nt for me--a real red lion guarding the Red Lion Inn!"

The Lion agreed. That night, when the Prince's cavalcade pa.s.sed through Derrydown, huge and red, with lifted paw and curved tail, the beast stood at the door of the Red Lion Inn. Many stared in wonder. Many paused to inquire. Many entered and partook of the dainties which Mine Host had prepared against this very happening. The Prince himself paused, pointed, and asked a question. The Lion's heart leaped wildly!

There was a curious expression on the Prince's face; it seemed drawn and twisted--was he about to sneeze? Alas! No. With a harsh laugh, the Prince gave the Lion a cut with his whip and bounded past; after him, the last of his followers. The Lion's skin smarted and his heart writhed. He kept his temper with difficulty; but--it was the Prince.

_n.o.blesse oblige_.

When they were out of sight, his head drooped. There was no one in all that gallant company who belonged to him. But the Landlord had reaped a rich harvest from the Lion's presence. When once more the village was empty of n.o.bility, he came to the Lion, rubbing his hands, contentedly.

"Old fellow," he said, "I have had profit from you. Now, I will give you supper and a bed in my stable for the night. And why should we not make this arrangement permanent? You see, your folks are gone. The family has run out and no one any longer bears or recognizes the crest. You are an orphan; but you can still be of use to me. Why not become the supporter of my inn?"

"Gramercy!" quoth the Lion, with dignity. "I will accept the supper, for I am very hungry. But as for sleeping in the stable, that I cannot do! I prefer a bed on one of the fragrant hayc.o.c.ks in your meadow."

"To that you are welcome, if you please," said the Landlord graciously.

"And, to-morrow, we will talk again of the other matter."

So the Lion had his supper, and then went wearily to sleep on a hayc.o.c.k in the thymy meadow. He was sad and disillusioned, and the Landlord's words had taken away his last hope. He began to wish that he had never come alive. "To-morrow," he said, "I will go back to the Old Curiosity Shop, and see if the old man can un-medicine me. For a crest without a family is even a more forlorn thing than a family without a crest!"

The Lion wakened with a start. "_Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!_" sounded in his ear. He sprang to his feet and looked around. Opposite him stood a little girl in a ragged gown, with a basket on her arm, staring at him with big, round eyes. She did not seem in the least afraid. The Lion was annoyed. He had been dreaming of his n.o.ble family, and it was very disappointing to be wakened by this beggar with her mocking "_Ker-chew_!"

"Away with you, child!" he said. "I am weary and peevish. Do you not know better than to awaken a sleeping lion?"

"_Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!_" The child sneezed again so violently that she nearly fell into the hayc.o.c.k.

The Lion was agitated. "What can this mean?" he thought. "It must be an accident which has caused her to sneeze at the word. I will try again."

He began firmly, "When a lion--" But again he was interrupted by the violent sneezing of the little maid as soon as the word had pa.s.sed his teeth.

The Lion shivered. Could this really be? Was it possible that this vagrant was an offshoot of the n.o.ble family which he had been seeking?

If so, he must be in no hurry to claim relationship! The child put her hand into her basket, smiling.

"Good Lion," she said, "_Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!_ I like you. Will you have a bit of bread?" And she held out to him a fragment of her luncheon.

The Lion was touched. He did not like bread, but he could not refuse a child, and he ate it painfully. "What is your name?" he asked at length.

"Claribel," she answered.

"Your other name?" he persisted.

"Claribel," she repeated. "Just Claribel--that is all."

"Where do you live?" asked the Lion.

The child pointed over her shoulder. "Near the Ancient Wood, yonder,"

she said. "I came to Derrydown to the market. I have sold my dolls; now I am going home with the money."

"Dolls?" queried the Lion, interested in spite of himself. "You make dolls?"

Claribel nodded. "Rag dolls," she said. "My mother made dresses for the villagers. Now I make dolls out of the pieces in the old rag-bag. It buys me bread."

The Lion's heart was softened. "You are so little, Claribel!" he exclaimed. "Have you no one to take care of you?"

The child shook her head. "My mother is dead. I am alone in the world,"

she said.

"But have you no relatives--no one of n.o.ble kin in some palace, some castle?" the Lion cried eagerly.

The child laughed. "I know of no castles," she said; "no kindred at all.

I never had any, I think."

The Lion gave a groan. "I will go back to the Curiosity Shop!" he said whimsically. "Good-bye, child!" He started away. But, turning for a last look, he saw Claribel, with her eyes full of tears.

"Do not go!" cried the child. "I like you so much, dear Lion--_Ker-chew!

Ker-chew! Ker-chew!_"

The Lion's heart melted. "You are so little!" he said, "too little to be going on these roads alone. I will see you home." So they took the long road together, the child skipping happily beside the Lion, with her hand in his red mane. And the farther they walked together, the more the Lion liked Claribel, who sneezed whenever she spoke his name, but looked at him with kindly eyes.

They came at last to the hut where Claribel lived alone. It was a tiny cottage on the edge of the wood. The Lion looked at it long and hard. It was so different from the castle he had hoped to find! The child pulled him by the mane, and he went in. The hut was very poor, but spotlessly neat and clean.

Claribel led the Lion to the fireplace and began to blow meager sparks with the bellows. "I will keep you warm and give you bread to eat. You shall stay and live with me and be my dear big watch-dog!" she said.

The Lion sighed. But he could say nothing; he was so tender-hearted. "I will run away in the night," he promised himself. And then, on the mantel-stone above the tire, he spied a roughly-scratched shield. On the shield was the small figure of a lion pa.s.sant, with dexter paw raised and curved tail. Below it was scrawled the motto, "_n.o.blesse oblige_."

Claribel saw him staring at it with big eyes, and began to laugh and sneeze. "Yes, my mother loved it," she said, "and I love it, though it always makes me sneeze just as you do. That was why I liked you from the beginning. Some day I shall learn what the words mean; then I shall be rich and happy."

The Lion did not run away that night. He slept with his nose on his paws beside the fire and dreamed grand dreams of castles and fair ladies; of gold-broidered banners on which _he_ was emblazoned in crimson glory, and of the battle-cry, "_n.o.blesse oblige_!" echoing all about him.

But in the morning he was awakened, for the second time, by the sound of three soft little sneezes. "Excuse me!" said Claribel's dear little voice; "I tried not to, but I could not help it. I was so afraid you would not be here when I woke up. It might all have been a dream. But as soon as I saw you, I had to sneeze;--it is very odd!" She laughed and laughed, and the Lion roared in sympathy.

"I shall not go away," he said. "I want to be a real Supporter, not a heraldic one. I shall stay and try to help you learn the meaning of the motto over the fireplace."

"Oh, I am so happy!" cried Claribel, clapping her hands. "Already, I have thought of a way you can help me very much. I have always wanted to make a lion doll--_Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!_ But I never before had any lion--_Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!_--to copy, except that flat one over the fireplace. Now I can shape them after you and sell them in the market, and we shall grow rich, oh, so rich!"

And so it befell in the days that came thereafter. For Claribel's clever fingers snipped and pieced and seamed together the bits of cloth, until she had a lion so like her new friend that she almost sneezed her head off when he was finished. And, lo! She had invented a new kind of toy, which was speedily the rage over the whole kingdom.

In time, the making of lion-dolls became the great industry of Derrydown, whereof the people had much profit, especially Claribel, whose idea it was. And the folk of the town loved her dearly, because she had brought prosperity to them all. And they were devoted to the Lion, who went to and fro among them with gracious dignity, serving Claribel and serving them, so busy that he had no time to worry about escutcheons.

No family so poor but it had its little lion of carefully pieced rags, which it fondly prized; not merely because it was a quaint toy and indestructible, but because it was to them a token of their n.o.ble, friendly beast and of the motto which he had taught them. (But they had taught him many things, also.) And in latter days a crimson lion became the seal of the Guild of Toy-Makers in that shire. And a new tradition began to grow about the Lion Pa.s.sant, concerned entirely with his service to the people.

So, in seeking Them, the Lion found himself. And he lived happy ever after.