“I wonder what it can have been?” said the knight, pretending to be very puzzled.
“I wonder, indeed!” returned the lady with her eyes full of laughter.
“Not a goldfish, I suppose?” said the knight.
“Oh, no! No! No! What amusement should I find with a goldfish in this tower? I wouldn’t thank him for a goldfish!”
“Not a pot of ferns?” said the knight.
“Oh, no! No! No! My little serving maid can bring me all the ferns I want out of the forest. I wouldn’t thank him for a pot of ferns.”
“Then it was not, I suppose, a set of ivory balls?” suggested the knight.
“Why, yes, it was!” said the lady, clapping her hands. “How clever you are to be sure! I shall have to tell the baron I cannot marry him after all, since you have guessed his present.”
“He will never guess mine!” said the knight, looking at Gobbolino. “And then you will have to marry me!”
“We shall see! We shall see!” said Lady Alice, gently stroking Gobbolino’s fur.
When he left the tower the knight pressed a silver coin into the hand of the little serving maid and whispered:
“Don’t tell the baron of my present, Rosabel!” and the little serving maid dipped a curtsey as she meekly replied:
“Oh, no, Sir Knight, that I never will!”
Gobbolino passed the rest of the day telling stories to the Lady Alice. He found her kind, and as bored as the little princess. She listened with interest to the tales he told, and laughed aloud when he blew coloured sparks out of his ears and hid himself in odd places round the tower.
The little serving maid peeped through the door and laughed too, while purple shadows crept over the forest, the stars came out, and Lady Alice pulled her harp close to the fire and began to sing.
Sitting at her feet, Gobbolino thought he had never been so contented before.
“How strange this is!” he said to himself. “Here am I, born in a witch’s cave, turned out of an orphanage, betrayed by a sea witch, the plaything of a little princess, come to end my days after all in a tower in the middle of a forest, guarded by a dragon. But it suits me very well, and if every evening is as pleasant as this one I shall be happy to remain for ever Gobbolino the prisoner cat.”
But out of loyalty to the knight he did not want the black baron to guess his present, so when the next morning Lady Alice leaned out of her tower window and cried:
“I can see the baron crossing the ford! Go down and let him in, Rosabel, and mind you do not let him know what present the knight has brought me!”
Gobbolino, who guessed that the little serving maid had broken her promises before, slipped out of the room behind her and hissed in her ear:
“If you tell the baron about me, Rosabel, I will turn you into a gingerbread doll, and the dragon will eat you up!”
“Oh, my! Oh, my!” shrieked the little maid in terror, running down the stairs.
Gobbolino had never threatened anyone before and he did not know if he really could turn anyone into a gingerbread doll if he tried. He felt very ashamed of himself as he trotted back to his fair mistress and crept under her couch.
“I didn’t mean it,” he said to himself. “I wouldn’t hurt her for the world. Bad will out, I suppose. It comes of being born a witch’s cat.”
The black baron thundered on the tower door, and the little serving maid opened it, but she would not say a word about the present the knight had brought the Lady Alice. The baron came up the stairs in a very bad temper, for Rosabel had never failed to tell him before.
“Oh, no! No! No! I mustn’t! I mustn’t!” was all she would reply.
Lady Alice received the baron very graciously, but when he came to the knight’s present she only closed her eyes and smiled.
“It wasn’t a pair of pigeons, I suppose?” the baron asked.
“Oh, dear me, no! Just look at all the pigeons there are in the forest that come to my call!” said the Lady Alice scornfully.
“It wasn’t a silver mirror?” the baron said.
“Oh, dear me, no! I have a bowl of crystal water from the spring that is better than any mirror,” said Lady Alice. “When I smile into it the smile breaks into little ripples till all the water is laughing. Ha! Ha! Ha! He! He! He! I wouldn’t thank him for a mirror!”
“It wasn’t a little black rabbit to amuse you?” said the baron.
“Oh, no indeed!” said Lady Alice, but she turned just a little pale, and soon after the baron took his leave and went away.
If he did not guess in two more days the Lady Alice would not marry him at all, and that would certainly please the knight.
The baron left behind him a handsome golden cockerel, but it crowed so loudly that the knight heard it far across the forest as he rode to the tower in the evening.
He was so sure that the baron could not guess his gift that he had not brought any other present, and so delighted that he gave the little serving maid two silver coins when he left and whispered:
“Now, mind you do not tell the baron anything about my present!”
“Oh, no, Sir Knight!” the little serving maid replied, but Gobbolino thought it as well to say the next morning:
“Remember if you say anything about my being here I shall turn you into a gingerbread doll, and the dragon will certainly gobble you up!”
“How terrible this is!” he said to himself as he crept under his mistress’s gown. “Bad will out, I suppose, or I would not twice be threatening that little maid with such terrible revenge. But she is very heedless, I feel, and after all, I owe this kind home to the knight.”
“Oh, my! Oh, my!” sobbed the little serving maid, flying down to open the door to the baron, and she would not breathe a word to him about the knight’s present.
The baron came up the stairs in a passion. He guessed a silken gown, a lace pillow, and a jar of honey, all of which were wrong.
He threw his gift of roses on the floor and stamped down the stairs. When the knight came up later there were still petals clinging to the tapestry and of course he guessed at once what the baron had brought.
He was so sure of his own success that he had brought no other present, and he gave the little serving maid three silver coins when he went away.
“Now, don’t you tell the baron of my present tomorrow,” he said to her. “And by the evening Lady Alice will be mine.”
But when night fell the Lady Alice brought out her harp while the little serving maid went down to wash the dishes. Gobbolino sat at his mistress’s feet and listened, but the music grew sadder and sadder, till at last she burst into tears and, taking Gobbolino into her lap, laid her face against his fur and sobbed:
“Alas! Alas! What is to become of me? Tomorrow the baron will come for the last time, and when he fails to guess the knight’s present I shall have to marry the knight. Certainly he is pleasant enough, but both are so stupid, I have no wish to marry either of them! I had far rather remain for ever in this tower and play my harp, my dear sweet little Gobbolino, until my true lover comes to find me! Once, long ago, I was in love with a noble young lord, but we were too young to marry and he left home to go to the wars. I have never seen him since, and now my father says I must marry one of these foolish suitors. Oh, Gobbolino! Gobbolino! What shall I do? What shall I do?”
Gobbolino was terribly distressed when he remembered how he had helped to bring about his mistress’s downfall.
“It comes of being born a witch’s cat,” he told himself. “Bad will out, I see. Now, if I had not threatened Rosabel, and let things take their course, the knight and the baron might have gone on guessing till the end of their days, and my fair lady would not have to marry either of them.”
So he determined the next day to leave the tip of his tail exposed when he crept under the couch, so the baron would see him and guess what the present had been.
But before he could play this trick the baron had found out all for himself.
He arrive
d at the tower in the greatest state of excitement, for he knew that if he failed today, the Lady Alice would never be his.
In his hand he held five golden coins, for he was quite determined to bribe the little serving maid into telling him what the present had been.
Gobbolino had not said a word to her this morning, but she was far too frightened to open her mouth to the baron.
“Oh, no! No! No!” she sobbed. “Indeed I dare not; do not ask me, Baron, for pity’s sake leave me alone!”
“But what can harm you, my poor child, if you just breathe one word to me?” asked the baron.
“Why, the present, Baron! The present can harm me!” cried Rosabel. “He had the fiercest look you ever saw when he threatened me!”
“Why, you do not mean to tell me that the present had a tongue?” asked the astonished baron.
“Why, yes, Baron, indeed it had a tongue, and the brightest blue eyes you ever saw!” said the little serving maid directly. “And it said it would harm me severely!”
“Why, you don’t mean to tell me the present had claws?” the baron asked.
“Why, yes, indeed it had, Baron, and the longest tail you ever saw!” said the little serving maid. “And the way it ran up and down the stairs in great bounds would astonish you! But it promised to put a spell on me if I told, and the look on its whiskers was so terrible, Baron, that I dare not disobey!”
“I have it!” shouted the baron. “It was a cat!”
“Oh, my! Oh! Oh! Oh!” sobbed the little serving maid in terror. “Now you have found out all about it by yourself! But it is a witch’s cat, Baron, and very mischievous and harmful! I saw it blow sparks out of its ears! I saw it hide in my lady’s shoe! It said it would turn me into a gingerbread doll and the dragon would eat me up! Oh! Oh! Oh! Whatever will become of us all?”
At that moment a second thundering knock shook the tower, and the knight arrived at the door.
He was so impatient to claim Lady Alice’s hand that he could not wait till evening, but had arrived hard on the heels of the baron.
Both sprang up the stairs with the little maid sobbing between them and there sat Lady Alice with Gobbolino on her knee, for she had heard every word that went on below.
“It is a witch’s cat!” shouted the baron.
“The serving maid betrayed me!” cried the knight.
“It will cast a spell on us all!” said the baron.
“I claim your hand, my lady!” said the knight, at which the baron drew his sword and they fell upon each other.
At that moment a bugle call sounded through the forest, and a white horse and rider came galloping across the ford.
The Lady Alice, who had been wringing her hands, gave one look from her window and tears of joy sprang into her eyes.
“It is he! It is my lord himself!” she cried and darted to the stairs.
The little maid followed her, jumped over the dragon’s coils and ran sobbing towards her home at the edge of the forest, but Lady Alice ran to meet her young lover, who lifted her into his arms, placed her gently before him on the saddle, wheeled his horse round, and galloped back through the ford again with one last bugle call of triumph.
Gobbolino, halfway down the stairs, saw them disappear in a cloud of dust, and his heart was happy for them.
He watched the pink frock of the little serving maid vanishing among the trees, and wished her well too, as she departed.
Upstairs the knight and the baron were still fighting when a rumbling as of an earthquake shook the tower.
The dragon was beginning to wake up.
The tower began to rock as he slowly uncoiled himself, and to totter as he stretched his claws one by one.
Then with a tremendous gape he opened his mouth and roared, and the bricks came tumbling down.
Stones, parapets, stairs, collapsed on top of one another, and Gobbolino had barely time to leap clear himself when the whole tower crashed about his heels, bringing down the baron and the knight, still whirling their swords, among the ruins.
By the time they had picked themselves up, the dragon was crawling away to some peaceful cavern of his own in the forest.
Gobbolino decided to leave the place too, so he trotted quietly into the shadow of the trees and disappeared.
14
Gobbolino the Woodcutter
Night fell, and the loneliness of the forest fell on Gobbolino.
He was an easily pleased and independent little cat, but company meant a great deal to him. He did not ask for much, only the murmur of friendly voices about him, the click of a knitting-needle, the bubble of a kettle, or the hiss of a cooking-pot.
Here, deep in the forest, the trees sighed as if they too missed the companionship of human beings, and Gobbolino, treading its gloomy ways, looked eagerly for the sign of some cottage or farmhouse, where the candlelight, shining through the windowpanes, might bid him welcome.
So it was with the greatest pleasure in the world that he saw, walking along the path in front of him, an aged woodcutter, quite bowed beneath a load of wood.
Gobbolino did not say a word as he joined him, but trotted silently at the woodcutter’s heels, while a great peace came upon his heart, and the night fell softly around them.
The moon had risen when at last Gobbolino and the old man reached a tiny cottage, and not until he had thrown down his bundle of sticks on the doorstep did the woodcutter notice Gobbolino.
“Well! Well! Well!” exclaimed the woodcutter. “This is a surprise to be sure. And where did you come from, my pretty little cat?”
“I was just walking through the forest, master,” Gobbolino explained. “The way was so long and so lonely, I was glad enough to fall in behind you. I hope you do not object.”
“Well, you are perfectly right, the forest is very lonely,” agreed the woodcutter, nodding his head. “Even an old man like me feels the need of company sometimes. My granddaughter is gone away, and I live all alone. What do you say to a place on my hearth and a saucer of milk in my kitchen? I can think of worse homes for a cat than mine!”
“Oh, master, master!” said Gobbolino, almost crying in his thankfulness and joy. “How can I thank you? Can it possibly be true that I have found a home at last – Gobbolino the woodcutter’s cat?”
“Come in and see your new home, my little friend,” said the woodcutter, opening the door, and Gobbolino trotted in at his heels.
What was his surprise to see a pink frock sitting on the hearth and above it the rosy cheeks and blue eyes of the little serving maid Gobbolino had last seen running through the forest!
“Granddaughter!” exclaimed the woodcutter in great astonishment. “What has happened? What are you doing here? Have you been dismissed?”
“Oh, no! No! No!” sobbed the little serving maid, beginning to cry bitterly.
“Such terrible things happened, Grandfather, as you cannot imagine! The knights fought, the dragon roared, the tower fell down, and my Lady Alice rode away on a white horse! I was so frightened I jumped over the dragon and ran away. I have been running through the forest all day long to find you, Grandfather!”
“Well, well, well!” said the woodcutter, patting her very kindly on the head. “All is well that ends well, for here you are safe at home, Granddaughter, and no doubt we shall live together very comfortably as before. And just see what a pretty playfellow I have for you here, with such a splendid coat, such elegant paws, and such beautiful blue eyes!”
But his granddaughter screamed when she saw Gobbolino.
“Oh! Oh! Oh! Send it away! Send it away! That cat is the cause of all our troubles! It is no common tabby, but a witch’s cat that blows sparks out of its whiskers, as I saw with my own eyes. Turn it out directly, Grandfather, or I shall run straight out into the forest and never return!”
But the woodcutter picked up Gobbolino and set him gently on his knee.
“Tell me, my little cat,” he said kindly. “Is this true what my granddaughter says about you?”
&n
bsp; “Why, yes, master, it is,” agreed Gobbolino sadly.
“And can you blow sparks out of your whiskers as my granddaughter says you can?”
“Why, yes, master, I can certainly do that,” said Gobbolino.
“But you have never done anyone any harm, have you, my little cat?” the old man asked.
“Oh, no, master, never, never, never!” said Gobbolino, shaking his head. So, although his granddaughter sulked and stamped her foot and tossed her head, the woodcutter refused to turn Gobbolino out of doors, but poured him out a saucer of milk and gave him a comfortable corner beside the fire.
Now that she was home again, the woodcutter’s granddaughter looked after the house, kept the kitchen spick and span, washed the dishes, and cooked the dinner while her grandfather worked in the forest.
“Stay at home with her and look after her!” the woodcutter said to Gobbolino. “I should not like any harm to come to her while I am away.”
So Gobbolino stayed in the cottage, and although at first the girl tossed her head whenever she saw him, by and by, having no one else to talk to, she threw a remark or two at him while she wiped the pots and pans, till presently she was chattering merrily, and seemed to have forgotten her grudge against him.
“It was bad enough in the tower,” she grumbled. “But there was my lady who talked to me, and knights who came every day, bringing such beautiful presents! My lady gave me all her old dresses to wear, but here I am with nothing at all but this patched gown that I tore sadly when I ran through the forest. Oh, if only I could have one new dress!”
And that evening she plagued her grandfather to give her the money to buy one.
“No! No! No!” said the woodcutter. “Your old gown is good enough for the present. If I give you one now, when the colder weather comes you will say it is not warm enough and ask for another one. When the berries turn brown, you may ask me again, and perhaps I will give you one then.”
But his granddaughter could not wait till the berries turned brown.
She sulked and scolded and complained until the cottage echoed with her ill temper, and at last her grandfather gave her a silver coin to keep her quiet.
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