The Old Tobacco Shop Part 33

He paid no attention. His eyes were on the fair lady before him. A cry from the oldest boy rang out clear and sharp in the silence.

"Mother!"

The King held out his arms.

"My darling!" he cried. "At last! At last!"

"Beloved!" she cried, and rushed into his arms, and buried her face in his shoulder.

The children clung to her, weeping, and with one arm she pressed them close against her side.

The mult.i.tude found its voice again.

"Long live Queen Miranda! Long live Queen Miranda!"

CHAPTER XXV

THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN

"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 pa.s.sed 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-President had 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 a.s.sured 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 bas.e.m.e.nt 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 muddy all 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 legs are 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 whispered in 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 a.s.sisted 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, became cold; 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!"