The Chronicles of Narnia Complete 7-Book Collection with Bonus Book
Page 113
He hesitated for a few seconds before entering, for he was by nature a fop, and though circumstances led him to investigate filthy dwelling places he did not enjoy it. He had never known hard work except in another campaign where he had led his adoring volunteers to glory, for he had been born in plenty and had had sufficient money to buy a number of music halls which he passed his time in managing. His knowledge of the theatrical world had broadened his mind & views but he was a perfect gentleman, whose fuller nature was kept perpetually concealed behind an appearance of caring for nothing save his toilet.
He lifted the latch & went in.
CHAPTER IV
* * * * * * *
Dusk was falling when, some hours later, the Viscount emerged from the strange hut: he paused for a moment, gazing back at his host who stood in the oblong of light cast by the open door. He was a little man with a grey beard.
‘Good-bye, my friend, and thank you,’ said the Owl.
‘Good-bye. Do not thank me. I have done what I have done not as a benefit to you but in the hope that it may be detrimental to my countrymen.’
‘Your motives are of no importance to me. Good-night.’
‘Stay, a moment! You’re a gentleman! I can depend on your honour.’
‘For what?’
‘You will tell no one where you got this information. My country has spies everywhere, and if I am discovered it means death.’
‘Oh, of course. I will be quiet.’
‘It is well,’ replied the stranger in a tone of great satisfaction.
Puddiphat grasped his walking cane, and, bending himself to meet the gale, set out upon his homeward journey. It was not an agreeable walk: the wind caught up masses of loose pebbles and flung them in his face, and in the thick darkness he constantly struck his feet against invisible boulders. But the bird was in excellent spirits & made such good pace that in an hour he passed the first huts of the mining settlement. Hurrying across the street – if a bare patch of grass surrounded by log cabins may be called such, he paused at the door of one building – the one which had been set apart for the use of Lord Oliver Vant. The good pig’s kindly voice responded to his knock with eagerness, and in a few seconds he was before him. Lord Vant was sitting at his rude table reading his own biography by the light of a candle.
‘Welcome,’ he cried. ‘Sit down.’
‘Good-evening,’ said Puddiphat. ‘I have good news for you.’
‘I trust,’ said Lord Vant, looking at the owl’s wet cloak and muddy boots, ‘that you have not caught a chill this wet night? I have invented a new kind of flannel comforter, which I would recomend you to wear.’
‘I am quite dry, underneath my coat,’ said Puddiphat with a smile. ‘And when you have heard what I have to tell you, the question of comforters will no longer interest you.’
‘I never aprove,’ said Vant, ‘of letting an unusual excitement interfere with my habits. Cultivate good habits, Viscount. “Habit is a second nature”, you know.’
‘Yes. Yes,’ agreed Puddiphat rather impatiently. ‘But listen!’
‘I hear you,’ said Lord Vant in a hurt tone; for he was piqued at having his advice valued at naught. Nevertheless, as his visitor proceeded with his tale the pig’s small eyes opened as wide as they could and he drank in the words with eager ears.
‘Wonderful,’ he exclaimed, looking with admiring awe on the feathered volunteer. ‘Stupendous.’
‘Oh,’ said the Viscount modestly, ‘any one might have found it out, only I was lucky.’
‘You were industrious, which is better. I forsee a great future for you, my dear Viscount, as a diplomatist: leave these musical-halls which you manage and take up that proffession which is obviously your vocation in life.’
Puddiphat, who had no intention of giving up his interesting and lucrative employment, promised he would consider the matter, and rose to go. It was with difficulty he persuaded the Lord High Admiral to let him depart, and when, at last, he stood outside, he remembered something.
‘By the bye, My Lord, it would be better if you didn’t mention where you got this information, or at any rate don’t mention where I got it.’
Lord Vant promised to keep silence upon that point, and the Viscount walked to his own hut. As he entered he collided with a burly parrot, muffled up to the neck.
‘Now, then,’ croaked the stranger, ‘what d’ye think you’re doin’? Eh? Oh its you, Viscount! Wall, yer regiment has got to go on board the transport to night.’
‘Mr Green!’ said the Viscount, recognizing a merchant captain who had been hired to procure a vessel and crew in which the troops might journey out to Tararo: he was also to take charge of her on the way out. ‘So you’ve brought your transport.’
‘Seein’ that yer goin’ on board to night, looks as if I had. The Little Master told me to tell you to muster yer men down by the cove, ready fer embarking.’
It did not take long for the bird to get his body of volunteers into marching order and descend to the rocky shore of the cove. The patch of ground surrounding the inlet had formed the central square of the miners’ village, and by the light of numerous torches he could see a body of soldiers in red tunics drawn up opposite to him, whom he knew to be the ‘Chutnies’. Placing his own men on the other side of the square, Puddiphat looked out to sea in the hope of ascertaining something of the vessel in which he was to sail; but he could only detect a black shadow.
‘Good evening,’ said the Little-Master who had been standing apart with Vant and Fortescue and now approached the owl. ‘So we can get on board at last.’
‘Yes, My Lord. I hope it will be more comfortable than it is here!’
‘Aye, rather. Will you get your company on board first? There are two longboats there to take you out.’
‘Yes, My Lord.’
A second later the word of command was given, and the troopers marched down, across the rocks, slippery with sea weed and into the boats. Puddiphat was tired, and recalled only a chilly row, untill they drew up by the companion ladder of some large boat. He came up on to her deck and, as the night was cold, went below as soon as supper was served in a saloon which was tolerably comfortable after a miner’s cabin.
CHAPTER V
* * * * * * *
Just as certain chemicals invariably explode when they are mixed so there are some people who can never meet without a loss of temper: and such were the Lord Little-Master and Captain Polonius Green. And for this reason the voyague out to Tararo on board the transport was not a pleasant one. The good frog had not been on board for twenty-four hours before he found out that Green had brought the vessel under manned, and very justly but not very discreetly had given vent to his feelings. The parrot’s cold disregard of his complaints fanned the flame, and so it came about that the officers’ mess rarely rose up from a meal in which a quarrel had not occurred.
In consequence both of this and of the discomfort of the steamer in the tropics, Viscount Puddiphat was pleased beyond words as he paced the quarter deck of the PETRESKI & noted that they were in sight of land. Just as he had thrown away the charred stump of his cigar & was about to light another, Fortescue opened the door of the saloon and said ‘Come on, Puddiphat, all the other officers are here, ready for the council.’
The owl obeyed at once, and, entering the saloon found the whole of the mess assembled. Although the windows were covered with strips of wet canvas, the sun beat pitilessly through the chinks while the officers, dressed in linnen suits (all save Lord Oliver Vant who had insisted on wearing his ‘First Lord’s’ braided morning coat & silk stockings) panted in the heat.
‘Well, Gentlemen,’ said Lord Big as soon as all were seated, ‘the question is this: we have now arrived in sight of the most southern point of the continent of Tararo, and it is to be decided whether we shall steam up the East or West Coast. This, of course, depends upon whether it is our province in the South West or that in the East which is most in danger. With the absurdly inadequate force which
we have got we cannot hope to defend both.’
‘I wish, M’Lord,’ said Captain Green, ‘that you’d stop croking! I know its difficult fer a frog, but with patience –’
Fortescue, seeing the danger of another skirmish and dreading the delay it would occasion, stood up and said, ‘I do not at present understand how we can decide this point by sheer arguing: we must have some knowledge to go on. Has any gentleman any information?’
Lord Vant, with his eyes fixed on the owl’s perfectly expressionless face, said ‘Gentlemen, listen. I have the good fortune to be able to assist you. Before we left shore a – a certain man of tried fidelity and discretion told me with excellent proofs that the danger was chiefly in the South West.’
‘Good,’ cried Lord Big. ‘Who was it?’
The kindly pig looked appealingly at Viscount Puddiphat whose face was as motionless as if carved out of wood: seeing he could get no help from that quarter, he said rather feebly, ‘You must excuse me, Gentlemen, but I am pledged to secrecy.’
‘That is all very well as far [as] it goes,’ said Fortescue. ‘But there are one or two things you’ve overlooked: assuming that the informer was really an honest and disinterested patriot, how do you know he wasn’t being decieved? And perhaps he himself was decieving you? I don’t wish to be rude, Lord Oliver, but that’s how it seems to me.’
‘On the other hand,’ said the frog, ‘we have no reason at all for testing either sphere of action, and so, if we have no knowledge, we shall have to try both. But, being in this position, and suddenly hearing Lord Vant’s information, we ought to accept it: for even if it turns out to be false we shall be no worse off than we are.’
‘There’s a lot in that,’ said Fortescue, ‘and the longer we stay talking here, the better for the enemy.’
‘Then take the votes, can’t ye?’ said the parrot who was thoroughly tired of the whole affair. The Little-Master, now too hot and weary to quarrel gave a reluctant consent, and the votes were taken. It was almost unanimously agreed to steam to the South West as Vant had proposed.
All the mess retired to their berths that night in a cheerful frame of mind: at last their were nearing the scene of action: the tedious journey was a thing of the past and the more interesting business of war was at hand. But none we[re] better pleased than Viscount Puddiphat and Lord Oliver Vant.
Chapter VI
* * * * * * *
The day following that mentioned in the last chapter
[Unfortunately, the story breaks off here. There is nothing to indicate that it was ever completed. – Ed.]
VOLUME 1
PERIOD COVERED, 1856–1892 (36 YEARS).
CHAPTER I
* * * * * * *
It is my intention to lay before the reader in this volume, as briefly as possible the history of Lord John Big of Bigham, the great Boxonian soldier and statesman; and in order to render such an account intelligable we must take a brief survey of the Big family. This clan, as is easily seen from the fact of their being frogs, came originally from the island of Piscia, where we first hear of them as the ruling spirits of a band of mountain robbers or Bojaren, whose chieftan was known as the Boj or Boge – of which name Big is a corruption. As early as the reign of Benjamin I. however, the family forsook their dishonest employment and settled down in the city of Tousandpot which was at that time the only town in Piscia held by the king of Animalland: here it is probable that the chief of the race first met Benjamin who had come over to administer justice in his province, and they became fast friends of the rabbit king, who gave the chief a command in his army.
In this capacity Chieftan Big gained much honour, and won nearly the whole island for Animalland, often fighting against the band which he had previously ruled, and in the next reign – that of King Mouse the Good – his son settled in Mouseland. Here, for services rendered to the crown several hundred years later, the rich tract of land now known as Bigham (= place of Big) was bestowed upon the family, where they have lived ever since.
On the night of May 1st 1856 – 56 years ago – a son was born to Lady Jane Big the wife of Lord Robert Big: this child was John Big. As a young child even, he was sturdy, and in his nursery days shewed signs of that force of character which afterwards gave him power to rule men.
‘The child’s will,’ wrote Lord Robert to his friend Viscount Henry Quicksteppe, ‘Is a perpetual sorrow to his tutors and a delight to me.’
The home in which the young frog grew up was one well calculated to refine the artistic temperment while the lonely beauty of Mouse vally was conducive to serious meditation; nor was the young child one to depreciate his surrounding. Even at the age of twelve, young John used to delight to ship away from his tutors and sit for hours in dreamy Meditation in some lonely quarry. But his youth was not passed in that complete solitutde which would have narrowed his mind and soured his character: not many furlongs from Bigham castle stood the mansion of Viscount Quicksteppe, whose son, Frederic Jones Quicksteppe was a year younger than John Big, and this child naturally became the frog’s chief companion.
But although much attached to each other, the characters of the two children were very different. John was silent, brooding and inclined to take life rather too seriously, while Frederic was clever but not diligent and apt to turn all things into ridicule. Nevertheless, the two boys started in their youth a friendship which they mantained firmly in after life.
It was not the intention either of Viscount Quicksteppe or of Lord Robert to let their sons grow up in idleness and without the advantages of a public-school education: and it was decided by mutual agreement that the boys should go together to Danphabel School. Accordingly, in the year 1870, and at the age of fourteen the Hon. John Big for the first time left the home of his fathers.
Together with Lord Robert and young Frederic the frog proceeded by coach to Murry: for, although steam had been used for locomotive purposes for some time, it had not yet been brought to perfection and the only line was the ‘Murry Railway’ from the metropolis to Canontown. The coach journey from Bigham to Murry, which a train now accomplishes in half an hour, took the little party the best part of the afternoon.
On arriving at the great city, Lord Robert stopped for three days to show his charges the sights. Although the experience doubtless impressed the country luds much, a visit to Murry was not so enjoyable for the young in those days as it now is; a good parent like Lord Robert would not dream of letting his son and his friend’s son enter a theatre; the docks and wharfs, which intelligent boys would love to explore, were prohibited as being dirty. Proper amusements for a boy visiting the capital for the first time were a visit to a great picture gallery and an inspection of the Parliament House. Indeed, Frederic wrote to the Viscount in these words:
‘I like Murry very much, dear Father, and it is a great town. But there are so few places one may go’
Having made this stop, Lord Robert saw his two charges into a stage coach for Great Eglington, whence another would convey them to Danphabel, tipped the guard to take care of them, and returned home in his private chaise.
CHAPTER II
* * * * * * *
Danphabel school was then the foremost school of the country nor is it now one of the worst. It had been founded three hundred years earlier by King Bublish II, and was famed for sound education and athletic prowès. Well might the heart of John Big have beaten loudly with pride as he passed the arch where his father had played marbles and sat by the desk whereon Little-Master White had carved his name: nor could he have failed to be agreeably impressed by the stately buildings and shady lawns – the kingly gift of a true monarch!
The two boys arrived at Danphabel in due course and were placed in the same form, not far from the bottom of the school. Here, working side by side, the different characters of the two boys began to show.
John Big would devote a whole evening to plodding through his work for the following day, while Quicksteppe’s son played football in the corridors, trusting t
hat he might cram in a minute or two of study before breakfast on the following morning: when the morning came, Frederic’s books would be lost or he would forget all about his plans. Thus, although the duller of the two, John progressed more steadily than his companion, and acquired a fund of knowledge seldom seen in a boy of his age.
In the playground, however, Frederic excelled: John tried hard at athletics and had moderate success at football, but remained a poor cricketer, and became downhearted on that account. Indeed, the last days of his first quarter were dark and gloomy. Weary and depressed by over-work, despirited by his failures on the field and unpopular among his fellows who could not bear the comparison with so diligent a classmate, he led an unpleasant life.
He returned home for his first holyday full of knowledge, bearing more than one prize and sadly broken in spirit.
His father could not fail to notice the change in his manner, but, like a wise man, seeing that no information was vouchsafed, did not probe the matter. John’s mother, however, was not so prudent, and, noting the gay bearing and light heart of Frederic, challanged her son with his moodiness.
John gave no explanation, but, although his state of mind remained unchanged, assumed an appearance of gaiety. Such dissimulation, although not good for the character, taught the young frog the elements of diplomacy & he never forgot the lesson.
On his return to Danphabel he found himself in a higher form, while Frederic remained where he had started. He did not, as he would have some months before, break out into open exclamations of joy; but, while in reality never relaxing his exertions, simulated a light hearted indifference to work which soon regained his popularity. Frederic, from whom he had been somewhat estranged, became once more his firm friend and for a time he was happy and prosperous.