Part 19

The fairy smiled coldly.

“Cruel to the last,” he observed. “The vile hag would be made an instrument of torture in an inanimate shape, since she may no longer torment people in her original form. But it may not be. The doom has been pronounced, and already begins to take effect.”

Even as he spoke, the form of the old woman gradually changed into that of an enormous sea-serpent, and her yells culminated in a fearful hissing, from which the legions of valiant birds instinctively recoiled. A scaly monster of the deep occupied the place--and rather more than the place--lately filled by old Goody Tickle-back, and the last of the three witches had now received her allotted punishment. The owl-fairy then struck the ground sharply three times with his ashen stick, and each of the three culprits departed different ways. The donkey stretched out its tail, erected its ears, elevated its head, and gave vent to sundry of those loud and discordant noises by which creatures of that particular species are distinguished from other four-footed beasts. Then, looking around once more, it slowly set off at a trot, which presently became a galop; and, passing through the ranks of the bird and mannikin army, which divided for its passage, took the direction of Datchet, and hastened thither as fast as it could lay legs to the ground.

I will not follow the adventures of the poor beast any longer, though I may as well tell you, Brother. Rhine, that {223}I know for a fact she lingered in the same neighbourhood for a very long time. Indeed, not many weeks since, whilst walking upon Dorney Common, I heard cries as of an animal in distress, and, looking round, beheld a seller of brooms vehemently belabouring a half-starved ass with a broomstick. The poor beast was in sad condition. It was laden with a heavy load of brooms, and its speaking eyes seemed to tell of much privation and suffering. I seemed somehow or other to remember the expression of the face, and in a few moments recalled the circumstances of which I have just been telling you. There indeed was old Dame Stokes, serving out her time in long apprenticeship to misery and punishment, and experiencing that practical application of the broomstick which the owl-fairy had foretold. I passed on my way to the river, and sighed as I thought over her fate, pondering meanwhile upon the melancholy fact that sin should be so attractive as it had proved to this old woman, when its punishment, sooner or later, is so certain and is of so much more enduring a character than the questionable pleasure which has earned it.

As to Mother Wandle, there is but little to tell of her. As soon as she was permitted to do so, she flitted away across my river in the direction of Windsor Forest, and, for anything I know, may be there still. Bats are not creatures that one ever hears much of, nor have I been accustomed to interest myself particularly in their proceedings; but if you happen to see an especially ugly and repulsive bat, it is quite as likely to be old Mother Wandle as anybody else, and you may be sure that she is still enduring the punishment so justly inflicted upon her by a righteous judge.

Goody {224}Tickleback’s exit from the scene was of a more marked and singular character. It would have been difficult to have disposed of so gigantic a monster by any ordinary process. It could not have travelled by land to the ocean, except on wheels; and although it might have been possible to have paid expenses by sending it thither in the caravan of a travelling showman--supposing a vehicle of that description, and of sufficiently large size, to have been in being--such a course would have been scarcely consistent with the usage of fairyland, or with the nature and circumstances of the case. It might, of course, have been possible to have floated the creature down the waters of my river, but against such a proceeding my nymphs, elves, and swans would have protested indignantly, even had I been disposed for a moment to sanction it. Besides this, the inconvenience to traffic, and the bad odour which so foul a reptile would leave in the water, not to mention its possible indulgence in some mischievous and destructive habits which would have brought the river into bad repute, were all difficulties in the way. I could not allow a “Thames nuisance” to be thus originated which would have been probably fraught with most unpleasant consequences, and could have done no possible good to anybody. This, therefore, being out of the question, it only remained for the owl-fairy to exercise his magic power somewhat further, and get rid of the vast and cumbrous body which he had seen fit to create. The wonderful being made not the slightest difficulty. Waving his rod three times above his head, and describing with it a circle in the air, he struck upon the ground, which immediately opened wide beneath the hideous {225}serpent, and exhibited an enormous chasm, down which it slowly disappeared, and was seen no more in those regions of the earth.

Marvellous legends, however, have been told of the great Sea-serpent since that day, and those who know the circumstances which I have related are able to judge of their truth better than the ignorant and unlearned.

At times, when, far out at sea, the waves are running mountains high, the ship can scarce weather the storm, and some of the affrighted sailors have betaken themselves to their boats in hopes to preserve their lives, a hideous monster is said to rise from the deep, encircling and crushing the boat with its gigantic coil, and striking with its cruel fangs the drowning mariners. At other times, when all is calm, and the surface of the ocean ripples softly, like a lake stirred by the zephyrs’ softest breath, {226}a huge and awful form may be seen floating on the waves, slowly making its way through the waters, and ever and anon raising its hideous serpent-head aloft, as if in search of something to injure or destroy. Wonderful tales do the sailor men bring home of this extraordinary creature, and wise folk oftentimes shake their heads and affect to disbelieve in its existence. But we, Brother Rhine, who know this chronicle of early days which I have just been telling, shake no heads over the matter, and entertain no doubt of the reality of the sight which the sons of Neptune aver that they have seen. Old Goody Tickleback is the great Sea-serpent, and my only wonder is that, when the great owl-fairy was about it, he did not put her out of the way altogether, instead of leaving her in a position in which she could still work so much mischief to mortal men. I suppose, however, that fairies, like other people, know their own business best; and there was probably some reason against this self-evidently wise course which does not occur to those who do not happen themselves to be fairies.

In this manner, anyhow, the three witches were comfortably disposed of, and, to my mind, there never was a clearer case of “a good riddance of bad rubbish.” Having accomplished his task, the owl-fairy now reentered his carriage, and directed the troops to pass before him, which they accordingly did, each company saluting as it passed. The review being finished, the whole procession returned to the wood in the same order as that in which they had emerged from it, and in a very short time the banks of the river were as quiet as if nothing unusual had happened. The mannikins were never {227}afterwards molested by witches or any such nefarious customers, and, as long as they chose to inhabit the castle, they were perfectly free from disturbance or attack. Time at last did its work upon the old walls, and when the hum of the steam-engine began to be heard in the land this was no longer a place for mannikins. They flitted I know not where, and the owl-fairy doubtless went with them. I could perhaps tell you more, but melancholy thoughts come over me as I speak of the departure of old friends and neighbours, and I think, with your good leave, I will here bring my legend to a conclusion.

“Thanks, good brother,” said the Monarch of the Rhine, as Father Thames ceased speaking. “Yet would I fain inquire who or what was this great owl-fairy?”

His companion smiled grimly. “Hast thou so soon forgotten thine own objection to questions concerning our legends when finished?” he asked. “Nevertheless I would tell thee if I could, but I fear to speak with certainty upon a subject which has ever been shrouded in doubt. Most authorities agree that this mighty being could be none other than he of whom mention was made in my first legend--that of the Wild Boar of Windsor Forest. But the great fairy, Toddlekins, did not announce himself on the occasion of the transformation of the three witches; and the only proof that it was he who reigned over the mannikins and delivered them from their enemies consists in the similarity of his appearance with that of the rescuer of Smith in the Druid days. I incline to think it may have been him; and we know that wherever Toddlekins has power good prevails {228}and evil flies from his presence; but more I cannot tell you.”

“Be it so, brother,” returned he of the Rhine; “the matter, anyhow, ended well, and I would that my Rhineland had a fairy Toddlekins as well as thy favoured country.”

Father Thames smiled grimly. “There never could be two such as Toddlekins in this world,” replied he; “and it is a blessing for me and mine that there has been one. But come, Brother Rhine, there is yet time for another legend. Hast thou none of the old war times, and of the brave German barons who fought so oft and so fiercely?”

“Ay, that have I, many an one,” responded the other. “I bethink me, moreover, of one which is not strictly or wholly of mine own land, nor in truth do I know precisely to what land it can be said entirely to belong. It is one, however, which has been handed down to us in verse, if you object not to a tale told in such fashion.”

“Object, indeed!” cried jolly old Father Thames in a pleasant voice. “How or why should I object? Are not some of our very best English legends told in verse? Witness that excellent old story of--

‘Old King Cole was a merry old soul, And so was old King Tudor; But merrier still was Miss Mary Cole, When the Earl of Pembroke woo’d her.’

That is a fine legend, if you please! I heard it all told by a descendant of the Cole family, who stumbled on the story in an old manuscript, and instantly went out to Cannes, in the South of France, where he studied it carefully {229}with a view to producing it for the benefit of the English public, and was only prevented from doing so by his sisters, who insisted upon it that the wooing done in their family, even at a remote period, was a matter of private history which should never be allowed to become public property. Perhaps they had some affair of the same kind in hand themselves, and did not want to establish an inconvenient precedent.”

“Very likely,” remarked the Rhine King somewhat sulkily; “but if you go on like this I shall never get away. Pray give a fellow a chance, and don’t keep all the talk to yourself--you and your Coles.”

“Hold hard!” cried Father Thames at this. “I am not going to be ‘called over the coals’ by any foreigner.”

“A truce to your puns!” said he of the Rhine; and as Father Thames said no more, he at once began the song of:--

SIR RODERICK FOWLE--A LEGEND OF THE OLDEN TIME.

Sir Roderick Fowle has returned from the East, Where believers are fighting the Paynim; Though they slaughtered his squire, and they wounded his beast, No Saracen foeman has slain him.

II.

He has crossed the salt seas, and has come to the land Where no man of battle afraid is, But all have, in war, a keen blade and strong hand, And, in peace, a true heart for the ladies.

III.

To {230}the land of the Gaul is Sir Roderick come (Concluded his Saracen fighting), And with joy and delight is struck perfectly dumb, On the shores of his country alighting--

IV.

The land where he’d lived as an innocent child (And now he’s a vigorous man, see!), Where Ida, the lovely, had first on him smiled And captured his heart and his fancy.