The Tale of Lal Part 4

Slowly as they watched, thick jets of yellow vapour commenced to rise upward and all around.

"Come," whispered Lal, "the thick fog stops like a wall at the back of their pedestals and all round Trafalgar Square. As I told you,"

chuckled the Lion, "the fog is only upon the _outside_ of where the party will take place."

He now quickly drew the children out of the fog inside the immense charmed circle of Trafalgar Square, where the atmosphere was quite clear, but as yet quite dark.

The Lion lifted up his head and gave a most piercing and peculiar whistle; once, twice, three times and yet a fourth he repeated this signal.

The signal was answered in a curious manner. The whole s.p.a.ce commenced to vibrate with a strange humming sound which resembled violins, violoncellos, flageolets and flutes being played upon very faintly.

The sounds were so weirdly fascinating that any one might have imagined it proceeded from a little group of Eastern musicians playing upon reeds in order to charm some snake to uncoil and become sociable after a lengthy seclusion in its wicker-work basket.

"What is that music?" asked Ridgwell.

"The eight Dolphins of the fountains are humming happily. They are waiting to carry out my commands," answered the Lion.

Once again the Lion whistled four times.

Ridgwell and Christine, who were listening intently, could hear the scurrying of flying feet racing along. The sound drew nearer and nearer, until several dark forms were jostling each other immediately in front of where they stood, and they could feel the warm breath of some living things upon their hands. Suddenly in the darkness there was a chorus of hoa.r.s.e laughter.

Ridgwell and Christine started slightly.

"Are they spirits?" inquired Ridgwell, with a note of anxiety in his voice.

"No," vouchsafed the Lion, "only the four merry laughing little Lions from outside Westminster Abbey. They are the most ridiculous creatures in all London.

"Stop laughing," commanded the Lion.

"Hear me, Gamble, Grin, Grub, and Carry-on-Merry, and hearken attentively.

"Carry-on-Merry, have you all stopped laughing?" demanded the Lion.

"Yes, mighty Lal, we are simply grinning at present, which is as near to being serious as we can ever become. We are only waiting for your commands."

The Lion lifted up his mighty head and called, "Silence, Dolphins."

Immediately the curious sounds of humming ceased.

"The party I give is to be the most beautiful in the world, displaying wonders such as no Emperor can procure. Each of the Four Seasons shall appear before us, perfect in every way, to be followed by the Pavilion of Gold."

"It shall be done, O Lal."

"My guests will be all the stray children of London. Call them from every street and court, from out every by-way, alley, and lane."

"They are all here waiting, O Lal."

"Good. Also gather together all the lost and stray dogs of London, every single one who is wandering about to-night."

"They have all been summoned, O Lal."

"The Royalty present will include Queen Boadicea, King Richard I., King Charles I., and St. George."

"Each has received a royal invitation, O Lal, and the Royal personages will all be pleased to attend."

"Each boy and girl is to be dressed in the most costly costume, according to their taste."

"All is prepared for them, Lal, and even as you desire, great splendour awaits them, and nothing will be lacking for their perfect enjoyment."

"Good; see that all is well done, and be ready to begin when I give the signal. You understand?"

"We understand," laughed the four merry Lions.

"We obey," squeaked the Dolphins.

"Only one thing remains to be done, to dress you, Ridgwell, and you, Christine."

"What shall we be dressed in?" inquired Christine.

"Shut your eyes," said the Lion gently, "and stretch your hands over the lake of the fountain and take what the Dolphins give you. They know what you want, and their taste in such matters is exquisite."

The children shut their eyes and obeyed. The Lion leant over the rim of the lake and whispered to the Dolphins--

"Dress the boy like a prince, and the girl like a little queen. The richest stuff, mind, five guineas a yard. Give her a crown of the whitest daisies with sh.e.l.l pink petal tips for a crown. No jewels, no pearls, no, no.

Take, oh take the pearls away, For they bring tears, the wise men say.

chanted the Lion in his rich double ba.s.s. "Give them both jewelled shoe buckles; give the boy jewelled levee b.u.t.tons for his satin breeches, a plain gold circlet for his head. A train for the girl from her shoulders, of pure cloth of gold; bring it light, so that it does not weigh heavily. White satin for the boy, with richest figured velvet doublet set with cloth of gold. Hang round their necks now, with all its luminous jewels, the highest order in the world, the Order of Great Imagination," commanded the Lion, "For by the Order of Great Imagination they shall see things that no one else can see, they shall be able to listen to things that no one else shall be able to hear.

They shall delight in the exquisiteness of things as no one else can delight in them, who has not received this order. For I declare to you all that a child who has this glittering order shall know of things that n.o.body else in the whole world shall know of. Everything is ready."

"Let us have Spring," commanded the Lion.

Immediately the words were uttered there came the soft beating of birds' wings over Ridgwell's head. The atmosphere instantly became fragrant with the myriad scents of wild flowers.

A mist seemed to swim for a second before their eyes, and, as it cleared away, they were standing together with many other children knee-deep in unending banks of bluebells and primroses.

They were in the midst of the most perfect wooded dell they had ever beheld.

Thousands of delicate flower-stems thrust their tiny spears from earth and emerald moss, blossoming with flowers before their wondering eyes.

The spiral hedges slowly shook out dappled cl.u.s.ters of white hawthorn.

The interlaced trees above them, amidst which all the birds in Christendom appeared to be carolling simultaneously, gently outspread friendly arms, overladen with powdered red and white may blossom.

b.u.t.terflies with gaily painted wings hovered tenderly overhead, and tiny silver thistledown b.a.l.l.s sailed across the blue sky s.p.a.ces, like little wayward balloons without anybody in charge of them.

"You can all pick as many flowers as you like," suggested the Lion.

"Flowers were meant for the children to pick, so make yourselves nosegays, garlands, and crowns galore. There are no notices _here_ to keep off the gra.s.s. You can also chase the b.u.t.terflies if you like, but I warn you that you will never catch them. As a matter of fact that is the one thing I don't permit. Any b.u.t.terfly with really nice feelings objects most decidedly when a pin is run through its body, as much as a happy fish hates to be caught upon a hook. I sympathise with both of them, and consider such practices ought to be stopped."

Ridgwell, well-nigh immersed in a bank of bluebells, listened in a semi-enchanted condition to the Lion's words of wisdom, and watched the brilliant-coloured b.u.t.terflies chasing each other in the pearly s.p.a.ces above him.