Twilight Land

by Howard Pyle

  Ill-Luck and the Fiddler.

  Once upon a time St. Nicholas came down into the world to take apeep at the old place and see how things looked in the spring-time.On he stepped along the road to the town where he used to live, forhe had a notion to find out whether things were going on nowadaysas they one time did. By-and-by he came to a cross-road, and whoshould he see sitting there but Ill-Luck himself. Ill-Luck’s facewas as gray as ashes, and his hair as white as snow--for he isas old as Grandfather Adam--and two great wings grew out of hisshoulders--for he flies fast and comes quickly to those whom hevisits, does Ill-Luck.

  Now, St. Nicholas had a pocketful of hazel-nuts, which he keptcracking and eating as he trudged along the road, and just then hecame upon one with a worm-hole in it. When he saw Ill-Luck it cameinto his head to do a good turn to poor sorrowful man.

  “Good-morning, Ill-Luck,” says he.

  “Good-morning, St. Nicholas,” says Ill-Luck.

  “You look as hale and strong as ever,” says St. Nicholas.

  “Ah, yes,” says Ill-Luck, “I find plenty to do in this world ofwoe.”

  “They tell me,” says St. Nicholas, “that you can go wherever youchoose, even if it be through a key-hole; now, is that so?”

  “Yes,” says Ill-Luck, “it is.”

  “Well, look now, friend,” says St. Nicholas, “could you go intothis hazel-nut if you chose to?”

  “Yes,” says Ill-Luck, “I could indeed.”

  “I should like to see you,” says St. Nicholas; “for then I shouldbe of a mind to believe what people say of you.”

  “Well,” says Ill-Luck, “I have not much time to be pottering andplaying upon Jack’s fiddle; but to oblige an old friend”--thereuponhe made himself small and smaller, and--phst! he was in the nutbefore you could wink.

  Then what do you think St. Nicholas did? In his hand he held alittle plug of wood, and no sooner had Ill-Luck entered the nutthan he stuck the plug in the hole, and there was man’s enemy astight as a fly in a bottle.

  “So!” says St. Nicholas, “that’s a piece of work well done.” Thenhe tossed the hazel-nut under the roots of an oak-tree near by, andwent his way.

  And that is how this story begins.

  * * * * *

  Well, the hazel-nut lay and lay and lay, and all the time that itlay there nobody met with ill-luck; but, one day, who should cometravelling that way but a rogue of a Fiddler, with his fiddle underhis arm. The day was warm, and he was tired; so down he sat underthe shade of the oak-tree to rest his legs. By-and-by he heard alittle shrill voice piping and crying, “Let me out! let me out! letme out!”

  The Fiddler looked up and down, but he could see nobody. “Who areyou?” says he.

  “I am Ill-Luck! Let me out! let me out!”

  “Let you out?” says the Fiddler. “Not I; if you are bottled up hereit is the better for all of us;” and, so saying, he tucked hisfiddle under his arm and off he marched.

  But before he had gone six steps he stopped. He was one of yourpeering, prying sort, and liked more than a little to know allthat was to be known about this or that or the other thing thathe chanced to see or hear. “I wonder where Ill-Luck can be, to bein such a tight place as he seems to be caught in,” says he tohimself; and back he came again. “Where are you, Ill-Luck?” says he.

  “Here I am,” says Ill-Luck--“here in this hazel-nut, under theroots of the oak-tree.”

  Thereupon the Fiddler laid aside his fiddle and bow, and fell topoking and prying under the roots until he found the nut. Then hebegan twisting and turning it in his fingers, looking first on oneside and then on the other, and all the while Ill-Luck kept crying,“Let me out! let me out!”

  It was not long before the Fiddler found the little wooden plug,and then nothing would do but he must take a peep inside the nut tosee if Ill-Luck was really there. So he picked and pulled at thewooden plug, until at last out it came; and--phst! pop! out cameIll-Luck along with it.

  Plague take the Fiddler! say I.

  “Listen,” says Ill-Luck. “It has been many a long day that I havebeen in that hazel-nut, and you are the man that has let me out;for once in a way I will do a good turn to a poor human body.”Therewith, and without giving the Fiddler time to speak a word,Ill-Luck caught him up by the belt, and--whiz! away he flew like abullet, over hill and over valley, over moor and over mountain, sofast that not enough wind was left in the Fiddler’s stomach to say“Bo!”

  By-and-by he came to a garden, and there he let the Fiddler drop onthe soft grass below. Then away he flew to attend to other mattersof greater need.

  When the Fiddler had gathered his wits together, and himself tohis feet, he saw that he lay in a beautiful garden of flowers andfruit-trees and marble walks and what not, and that at the end ofit stood a great, splendid house, all built of white marble, with afountain in front, and peacocks strutting about on the lawn.

  Well, the Fiddler smoothed down his hair and brushed his clothes abit, and off he went to see what was to be seen at the grand houseat the end of the garden.

  He entered the door, and nobody said no to him. Then he passedthrough one room after another, and each was finer than the onehe left behind. Many servants stood around; but they only bowed,and never asked whence he came. At last he came to a room where alittle old man sat at a table. The table was spread with a feastthat smelled so good that it brought tears to the Fiddler’s eyesand water to his mouth, and all the plates were of pure gold. Thelittle old man sat alone, but another place was spread, as thoughhe were expecting some one. As the Fiddler came in the little oldman nodded and smiled. “Welcome!” he cried; “and have you come atlast?”

  “Yes,” said the Fiddler, “I have. It was Ill-Luck that brought me.”

  “Nay,” said the little old man, “do not say that. Sit down to thetable and eat; and when I have told you all, you will say it wasnot Ill-Luck, but Good-Luck, that brought you.”

  The Fiddler had his own mind about that; but, all the same, downhe sat at the table, and fell to with knife and fork at the goodthings, as though he had not had a bite to eat for a week ofSundays.

  “I am the richest man in the world,” says the little old man, aftera while.

  “I am glad to hear it,” says the Fiddler.

  “You may well be,” said the old man, “for I am all alone in theworld, and without wife or child. And this morning I said tomyself that the first body that came to my house I would take fora son--or a daughter, as the case might be. You are the first, andso you shall live with me as long as I live, and after I am goneeverything that I have shall be yours.”

  The Fiddler did nothing but stare with open eyes and mouth, asthough he would never shut either again.

  * * * * *

  Well, the Fiddler lived with the old man for maybe three or fourdays as snug and happy a life as ever a mouse passed in a greencheese. As for the gold and silver and jewels--why, they were asplentiful in that house as dust in a mill! Everything the Fiddlerwanted came to his hand. He lived high, and slept soft and warm,and never knew what it was to want either more or less, or greator small. In all of those three or four days he did nothing butenjoy himself with might and main.

  But by-and-by he began to wonder where all the good things camefrom. Then, before long, he fell to pestering the old man withquestions about the matter.

  At first the old man put him off with short answers, but theFiddler was a master-hand at finding out anything that he wanted toknow. He dinned and drummed and worried until flesh and blood couldstand it no longer. So at last the old man said that he would showhim the treasure-house where all his wealth came from, and at thatthe Fiddler was tickled beyond measure.

  The old man took a key from behind the door and led him out intothe garden. There in a corner by the wall was a great trap-doorof iron. The old man fitted the key to the lock and turned it. Helifted the door, and then went down a steep flight of stone steps,and the Fiddler followed close at his heels. Down below it was aslight as day, fo
r in the centre of the room hung a great lamp thatshone with a bright light and lit up all the place as bright asday. In the floor were set three great basins of marble: one wasnearly full of silver, one of gold, and one of gems of all sorts.

  “All this is mine,” said the old man, “and after I am gone itshall be yours. It was left to me as I will leave it to you, andin the meantime you may come and go as you choose and fill yourpockets whenever you wish to. But there is one thing you must notdo: you must never open that door yonder at the back of the room.Should you do so, Ill-Luck will be sure to overtake you.”

  Oh no! The Fiddler would never think of doing such a thing asopening the door. The silver and gold and jewels were enough forhim. But since the old man had given him leave, he would just helphimself to a few of the fine things. So he stuffed his pocketsfull, and then he followed the old man up the steps and out intothe sunlight again.

  It took him maybe an hour to count all the money and jewels he hadbrought up with him. After he had done that, he began to wonderwhat was inside of the little door at the back of the room. Firsthe wondered; then he began to grow curious; then he began to itchand tingle and burn as though fifty thousand I-want-to-know nettleswere sticking into him from top to toe. At last he could stand itno longer. “I’ll just go down yonder,” says he, “and peep throughthe key-hole; perhaps I can see what is there without opening thedoor.”

  So down he took the key, and off he marched to the garden. Heopened the trap-door, and went down the steep steps to the roombelow. There was the door at the end of the room, but when he cameto look there was no key-hole to it. “Pshaw!” said he, “here is apretty state of affairs. Tut! tut! tut! Well, since I have come sofar, it would be a pity to turn back without seeing more.” So heopened the door and peeped in.

  “Pooh!” said the Fiddler, “there’s nothing there, after all,” andhe opened the door wide.

  Before him was a great long passageway, and at the far end of it hecould see a spark of light as though the sun were shining there. Helistened, and after a while he heard a sound like the waves beatingon the shore. “Well,” says he, “this is the most curious thing Ihave seen for a long time. Since I have come so far, I may as wellsee the end of it.” So he entered the passageway, and closed thedoor behind him.

  He went on and on, and the spark of light kept growing larger andlarger, and by-and-by--pop! out he came at the other end of thepassage.

  Sure enough, there he stood on the sea-shore, with the wavesbeating and dashing on the rocks. He stood looking and wondering tofind himself in such a place, when all of a sudden something camewith a whiz and a rush and caught him by the belt, and away he flewlike a bullet.

  By-and-by he managed to screw his head around and look up, andthere it was Ill-Luck that had him. “I thought so,” said theFiddler; and then he gave over kicking.

  Well; on and on they flew, over hill and valley, over moor andmountain, until they came to another garden, and there Ill-Luck letthe Fiddler drop.

  Swash! Down he fell into the top of an apple-tree, and there hehung in the branches.

  It was the garden of a royal castle, and all had been weeping andwoe (though they were beginning now to pick up their smiles again),and this was the reason why:

  The king of that country had died, and no one was left behind himbut the queen. But she was a prize, for not only was the kingdomhers, but she was as young as a spring apple and as pretty as apicture; so that there was no end of those who would have liked tohave had her, each man for his own. Even that day there were threeprinces at the castle, each one wanting the queen to marry him; andthe wrangling and bickering and squabbling that was going on wasenough to deafen a body. The poor young queen was tired to deathwith it all, and so she had come out into the garden for a bit ofrest; and there she sat under the shade of an apple-tree, fanningherself and crying, when--

  Swash! Down fell the Fiddler into the apple-tree and down fell adozen apples, popping and tumbling about the queen’s ears.

  The queen looked up and screamed, and the Fiddler climbed down.

  “Where did you come from?” said she.

  “Oh, Ill-Luck brought me,” said the Fiddler.

  “Nay,” said the queen, “do not say so. You fell from heaven, for Isaw it with my eyes and heard it with my ears. I see how it is now.You were sent hither from heaven to be my husband, and my husbandyou shall be. You shall be king of this country, half-and-half withme as queen, and shall sit on a throne beside me.”

  You can guess whether or not that was music to the Fiddler’s ears.

  So the princes were sent packing, and the Fiddler was married tothe queen, and reigned in that country.

  Well, three or four days passed, and all was as sweet and happyas a spring day. But at the end of that time the Fiddler began towonder what was to be seen in the castle. The queen was very fondof him, and was glad enough to show him all the fine things thatwere to be seen; so hand in hand they went everywhere, from garretto cellar.

  But you should have seen how splendid it all was! The Fiddler feltmore certain than ever that it was better to be a king than to bethe richest man in the world, and he was as glad as glad could bethat Ill-Luck had brought him from the rich little old man overyonder to this.

  So he saw everything in the castle but one thing. “What is behindthat door?” said he.

  “Ah! that,” said the queen, “you must not ask or wish to know.Should you open that door Ill-Luck will be sure to overtake you.”

  “Pooh!” said the Fiddler, “I don’t care to know, anyhow,” and offthey went, hand in hand.

  Yes, that was a very fine thing to say; but before an hour hadgone by the Fiddler’s head began to hum and buzz like a beehive.“I don’t believe,” said he, “there would be a grain of harm in mypeeping inside that door; all the same, I will not do it. I willjust go down and peep through the key-hole.” So off he went to doas he said; but there was no key-hole to that door, either. “Why,look!” says he, “it is just like the door at the rich man’s houseover yonder; I wonder if it is the same inside as outside,” and heopened the door and peeped in. Yes; there was the long passage andthe spark of light at the far end, as though the sun were shining.He cocked his head to one side and listened. “Yes,” said he, “Ithink I hear the water rushing, but I am not sure; I will just goa little farther in and listen,” and so he entered and closed thedoor behind him. Well, he went on and on until--pop! there he wasout at the farther end, and before he knew what he was about he hadstepped out upon the sea-shore, just as he had done before.

  Whiz! whirr! Away flew the Fiddler like a bullet, and there wasIll-Luck carrying him by the belt again. Away they sped, over hilland valley, over moor and mountain, until the Fiddler’s head grewso dizzy that he had to shut his eyes. Suddenly Ill-Luck let himdrop, and down he fell--thump! bump!--on the hard ground. Then heopened his eyes and sat up, and, lo and behold! there he was, underthe oak-tree whence he had started in the first place. There layhis fiddle, just as he had left it. He picked it up and ran hisfingers over the strings--trum, twang! Then he got to his feet andbrushed the dirt and grass from his knees. He tucked his fiddleunder his arm, and off he stepped upon the way he had been going atfirst.

  “Just to think!” said he, “I would either have been the richest manin the world, or else I would have been a king, if it had not beenfor Ill-Luck.”

  And that is the way we all of us talk.

  * * * * *

  _Dr. Faustus had sat all the while neither drinking ale nor smokingtobacco, but with his hands folded, and in silence. “I know notwhy it is,” said he, “but that story of yours, my friend, bringsto my mind a story of a man whom I once knew--a great magician inhis time, and a necromancer and a chemist and an alchemist andmathematician and a rhetorician, an astronomer, an astrologer, anda philosopher as well.”_

  _“’Tis a long list of excellency,” said old Bidpai._

  _“’Tis not as long as was his head,” said Dr. Faustus._

  _“It would
be good for us all to hear a story of such a man,” saidold Bidpai._

  _“Nay,” said Dr. Faustus, “the story is not altogether of the manhimself, but rather of a pupil who came to learn wisdom of him.”_

  _“And the name of your story is what?” said Fortunatus._

  _“It hath no name,” said Dr. Faustus._

  _“Nay,” said St. George, “everything must have a name.”_

  _“It hath no name,” said Dr. Faustus. “But I shall give it a name,and it shall be--”_