Little Tom Part 11

CHRYSOMELA FALLS ILL AND DIES. THE FUNERAL.

THE HAMSTER TAKES LITTLE TOM THROUGH THE SNOW TO THE CHAPEL.

LITTLE TOM LEARNS, FROM A MOUSE, ABOUT THE DEATH OF HIS G.o.dMOTHER AND VISITS HER TOMB.

HE RETURNS WITH THE HAMSTER.

THE SLEDGE OF QUEEN FAIRY.

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Tom walked with Chrysomela along the edge of the stubble field, down the road; that was all they knew of their direction--that they must always be going down. They expected that the way would not be long, for they remembered that, in one day, the ants had brought all their possessions from the G.o.dmother's house to the wood. They forgot that the ants knew the direction and therefore walked straight over everything, while they, not knowing where to go, had to travel the path of the humans and therefore traveled in a wide circle.

Chrysomela was well wrapped up in her cloak and over her head she had pulled a cobweb veil, so that her golden hair should not fly around, but on her feet she had only little, light shoes of birch bark. After she had gone a little way, she felt how heavily she was walking over the clods by the stubble field and stumbled so that she had to lean on Tom's strong arm.

Tom tried to encourage her by telling her that they would soon see the human dwellings. He decided that if they should see any human being he would speak and ask that they be carried to the G.o.dmother, so that Chrysomela should not suffer. She was very weak by the time the sun had gone down and fogs were coming over the woods. Day after day she had been sinking. Sorrowing over Tom's captivity had only made her worse, but she was of a brave heart and therefore went on uncomplaining, not wishing to trouble Tom. She wondered what she would find at the G.o.dmother's house.

On the way, they did not meet a single living creature. All the little animals were already hidden and only tiny spiders were wafted above them on silvery threads. The cold breeze blowing through the stubble field was becoming stronger and turning against them. Chrysomela began to cough. She controlled herself as best she could, but finally she was obliged to ask Tom if they could rest a bit, as the walking was tiring her.

By this time, they had reached the end of the stubble field and had come to a wild briar bush, behind which was a freshly ploughed field full of glistening furrows. Tom placed Chrysomela on a few dried leaves under the briar and offered her seeds of beech nut and a nice red berry, but she was not hungry and only drank thirstily the blackberry juice from his bottle. Her hands were hot, her little forehead burning; she trembled all over with cold, while her eyes were shining with fever's brightness.

Tom stroked her hair and soothed her by telling her how comfortable they would be at Castle Easter Egg with the G.o.dmother. He told her of the tree with the golden nuts and sweet dates, and the precious little altar with the kings, shepherds, the Mother and the Baby; but Chrysomela no longer heard him. She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

Tom realized that they would not be able to go any farther that day and dreaded the night under the open sky. He covered Chrysomela with a briar leaf and seated himself beside her. In a little while, as he was very tired, he fell asleep.

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Suddenly, he awoke. Already, the darkness was stealing over the county, the evening wind was whistling through the wild briar and playing with the leaves. Tom wanted to protect Chrysomela. He put his arm around her waist and wrapped a rolled up beech leaf around her, but the strong wind caught it up and, whirling it with many others, carried them through the air until they fell into a deep furrow.

Here they were sheltered, at least, from the wind and, crawling out from the leaf, they looked around them, but everywhere they could only see black earth slippery and soft like high hills with nowhere any sign of human traces. They did not know where they were, or whither the wind had carried them.

All about them was only the dark night, while the cold of the evening pierced them to the bone. Chrysomela pressed close to Little Tom, but she was so weary, she could hardly stand on her feet. Tom feared to leave her, lest he might lose her, so, supporting her as best he could, stumbled on with her along the furrow until they came to a broad hole.

He wanted at once to step in with Chrysomela, not caring who was there, and to ask for shelter, when, suddenly, out of the darkness, came a gigantic animal in a fur coat, with bristling whiskers and puffed out cheeks. It was the Hamster.

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He was about to slide into the hole, when he smelled something strange.

He sniffed about him and peered into the darkness with his close-set eyes. When he saw the poor little travelers and how they were pressing together close to the hole, trembling with the cold, he said kindly, Hullo there. Where are you going so late, you little travelers?

Tom advanced and, bowing politely before the Hamster, asked him for shelter for a weak, ill traveler. When the Hamster saw that there was a lady with Tom, he acted very courteously, and immediately invited them to come in. He ran ahead and returned at once with a torch of rotten wood, with which he lighted them along the corridor, until they came to his dining-room.

There it was warm and cosy. The torch shone brightly and, when Chrysomela had removed her cloak and sat on the Hamster's bed, he wondered at her beauty. Then he ran to the pantry, shook out the grains which he had hidden in his baggy cheeks and, choosing from his store the best morsels, placed them before his guests. They were so dainty and delicate that they just melted in their mouths.

Chrysomela rested. She gathered her golden, wind-blown hair into braids and thanked the good Hamster for his kindly courtesy with a sweet smile.

For a little while, the fever left her and she seemed to be gaining strength.

The Hamster outdid himself with attentions and brought out everything good that he had; but Chrysomela said that she only wanted to rest, so they prepared a soft bed for her, covered her with a warm coat and said good night. They then went into the pantry where there was room for both Tom and the Hamster.

The Hamster had a wonderful store for the winter and showed Tom all his rooms filled with grain. One held oats, a second, wheat, and the third, rye. Everything was thoroughly peeled, cleaned and carefully put away in dry places. Tom praised his fine housekeeping and when the Hamster asked whence they had come and whither they were going, he told him their adventures.

They talked late into the night, and when the Hamster learned that Tom was a prince and king of the Ladybirds' realm, he said that he had never seen gnomes but had heard very much about them from a mouse family that lived under the chapel by the forest.

When Tom heard him speak of the chapel, he remembered that his G.o.dmother had found the treasure in the wall near it and he asked the Hamster whether he could take them to her. The Hamster laughed. Why should I not know her? On her field I am as if at home. She is a good woman. She does not know how to chase me or throw stones at me. There I have gathered my very best stores. This year, she did not come at all.

All the grain had grown together and I could take what I wanted. Only, later, strange people came and gathered the grain; but, by that time I had all mine at home. He promised that he would take Tom to the chapel with Chrysomela and from there, the mice would show them the way to the G.o.dmother's hut.

When they had talked enough, they went to bed. Tom fell asleep, confident that their troubles were at an end and that tomorrow he would see his G.o.dmother and that she would be greatly pleased with Chrysomela.

He slept soundly. In the morning the Hamster woke him, excitedly; he said that he should at once look at Chrysomela, for all was not well with her.

Tom ran to her at once and took her by the hand, but she did not recognize him. Her blue eyes were veiled and she was calling Seven Spot and the Wood-bug to save Tom; and then she would sing summer songs. She was in delirium. Tom did not know what to do. He sat by her bed, while the Hamster ran around bringing food and, finally, sat down in a corner by himself, desperate and sad.

Thus they sat through the whole day. From time to time, Chrysomela became conscious, drank something and stroked Tom's hand. Then she would hear the music of gnats and the swarm of golden flies above the water, or would scream with fright.

All night long, Tom and the Hamster did not sleep. They tried to care for Chrysomela and only towards morning did they themselves fall asleep.

When they awoke, they found her sitting up in bed apparently well, but very weak.

Tom was very happy that the illness had left her and that she was herself again. He knelt beside her, while the Hamster came running with pleasure and asked what she would have to eat; but the sad girl stroked the Hamster's fur and said to Tom in a thin voice, My dear Tom, it is the end. It is not permitted to me to live with you and to be merry at the G.o.dmother's house. I am growing weaker and weaker and, by evening, I will not be with you any more. Do not forget me in the world and remember that I was always your true comrade. You, Hamster, I thank for your good heart. You are not of us, but you are a good friend and perhaps I will meet you there, where our little nation has gone forever.

She lay down and closed her eyes with weariness. Tom fell down on the bed and wept. The Hamster ran away and hid himself and did not come out any more. Chrysomela wakened again, soothed Tom and told him that he should not despair, that they would surely meet in the other world, when their days would begin again.

Tom did not want to be soothed and only controlled his grief, so that he could make her last hour easier. He was sitting by her looking into her dying eyes, when, suddenly he saw that she brightened, looking over him into the darkness and he heard what she was whispering, The Queen, our Queen is coming. I hear her horses neighing. She is nodding to me, nodding, Little Tom. We will meet. Then she became quiet and her face, deathly pale. Tom knelt silently by her bed, hearing nothing, knowing nothing.

He did not know how long he was there, until the Hamster came and said, as if with an indifferent voice, Come, now it is time. We will lay her away so that she can sleep easily.

Tom obeyed blindly, covering her with her cloak, then raised her in his arms and walked behind the Hamster through a long corridor until they came to a small niche which the Hamster had dug and lined with daisies for Chrysomela. When they had laid her there, Tom said good bye to her, the Hamster closed in the niche, and they went back to the lonely dining-room.

They sat there for a long time without speaking, until the Hamster suddenly said, My dear Tom, I am as fond of you as a brother. Stay here with me. I have food enough. It will be better for us both. We will think of your poor Chrysomela until the Spring comes, and then I can drive you to the Ladybird kingdom.

Tom thought of the Ladybirds, looked at the empty bed and cried bitterly. He never wanted to go back to the Ladybirds without Chrysomela, and only wished to get to the G.o.dmother so that he could hide himself with her for the rest of his life. He asked the Hamster to take him there at once, for, here, his heart was breaking with grief.

The Hamster said that, outside, there was a terrible snowstorm and they would have to wait until the next day. Perhaps, over night, Tom would reconsider.

So they talked together without thinking of sleep. They thought of Chrysomela's death and Tom remembered how, in her delirium, she seemed to see a Queen. The Hamster then became thoughtful and said, I do not know, but I think that such a Queen exists. She rules over all living creatures on the earth. All do not know her, only the chosen ones. There are rumors about her among those who live on the earth, in the air and in the water. All honor and acknowledge her. Whoever knows anything of her, does not talk about it.

Tom begged him to tell him everything that he knew. He was trembling with excitement, believing, that, perhaps, after all, Chrysomela was not dreaming, but was arranging for their meeting.

I do not know a thing, replied the Hamster. I am only an underground creature and it is not given to us to know the secret; but I believe that she exists, for the larks are singing of her, when I am running through the fields, the bees are buzzing about her in the gra.s.s and the flowers are dreaming of her, when in the evening they are breathing out their fragrance.

The Hamster rose and went out, coming back to say that it was now possible to ride out and he would not try any longer to delay Tom.

Tom went to say farewell to Chrysomela's last resting place; then he took his seat in the Hamster's fur coat and started out of the hole. Tom was greatly amazed when he looked around. Far and wide, wherever the eye could see, there was a great, white plain, and, everywhere, the snow was sparkling in the sun. The Hamster hurried through the snow, with the snow-dust rising behind them. Tom held on to his fur and could hardly breathe in the fresh morning air. They ran down by the field, crossed the meadow and saw the chapel under the wood, shining in the plain by the brook, but nowhere was the hut.

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Tom looked around in vain; even from the stone steps of the chapel, he could not see it. All at once, a bright, little mouse stuck her sharp nose from under the rail and welcomed the Hamster. How do you do, G.o.dfather, she cried. You have brought us a guest. How is it that you still take walks in the snow?

The Hamster introduced Little Tom and told her that they were seeking the widow's hut, but could not find it. The Mouse was surprised. You are my neighbor and do not know it? she asked incredulously. Long since the widow has been sleeping under the ground of the chapel. In the Spring, she was ill and did not even chase us when we visited her. In the Summer, she lay down and died. They tore down her hut seeking some treasure. Now, they want to build here, I do not know what.

The Mouse knew all the news for miles around and was very greatly pleased that she could talk with someone. The Hamster thanked her for all the information and asked where the lady was lying, for he suspected that Little Tom would like to say farewell to her. The Mouse took them through the hole under the floor, until they came into the crypt, where were standing the old, decaying coffins of the former knights and, in the middle, a black new one, the G.o.dmother's.

Tom stood before it and was so unhappy, that he did not even feel his great suffering. Then they came out into the daylight and said good-by to the talkative Mouse. Tom sat in the Hamster's fur and they started to return.

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