The marvellous land of Snergs
look--and that’s saying a good deal.”
“But--but what did they run away for?” asked Gorbo, struck with a new
doubt.
“How do I know? I was sitting talking to this harmless old bunch of
nerves” (indicating Golithos) “who’d come to pay me a neighbourly
visit, when I thought I’d give a look at them to see that they were
quite comfortable. And when I got up there the room was empty and the
window was open and they’d gone. And the funny man was gone too. So I
just went after them, and got sight of them just too late. King Kul’s
got them all right. I suppose the funny man told them to go. He’s
noodle enough for anything. But if you really want to save them, I’ll
tell you the only way how.”
“Oh, thank you, Mum!” exclaimed Gorbo.
“But first I’m going to have breakfast.” She threw off her cloak and
began clattering the pots and pans about. “I’m not going to starve for
those brats.”
“If I hadn’t been all the night getting those mandrakes,” said Gorbo,
tearing at his hair, “I wouldn’t have lost them. Oh, I _am_ the biggest
fool after all!”
“You’re near it at any rate.” Mother Meldrum had stopped in her work
and picked up the basket he had brought. “Is this what you call
mandrakes?”
“Yes, Mum,” replied Gorbo humbly. “It seemed to me they squeaked a
little when I pulled them up.”
“Common swamp parsnips!” said Mother Meldrum with bitter scorn,
flinging them out of the door. “So that’s all the good _you_ are. Yah!”
She turned away and went on with her cooking.
Gorbo sat down and buried his face in his hands. Blow after blow. Not
only had he lost the children, but he had lost them while searching
throughout a hard disagreeable night for a few worthless specimens of
the common swamp parsnip (_Avacabolis communis_). Life really did not
seem worth living to him.
“Liven up!” said the old woman after a while. “I’ll show you the way to
save them, as I said; you trust to old Mother Meldrum. Meantime you’d
better eat.”
She dished up a huge platter of kidneys, small sausages and bacon, and
an omelette. The exquisite savour of these, together with her proffer
of help, brought some cheer to the sore heart of Gorbo and he drew up
his stool to the table and ate gratefully. The kidneys were cooked to
perfection, the omelette had been made by the hand of an artist. Mother
Meldrum was wicked and cruel and ugly and feared by all, but there was
that in her which goes far to redeem the character of the vilest--she
_could_ cook.
“Golithos only eats grass and such like,” she said with a fiendish
laugh, “so he can finish up this bit of raw cabbage. Eat hearty,
Golithos.”
Golithos drew up his stool with a discontented look and picked
daintily at the cabbage, eating with his front teeth only as if he
had no appetite for it. He looked longingly at the mixed grill, but
his fear of Mother Meldrum was great and he kept silent. She told him
(while drawing a pot of foaming beer for Gorbo) that he would find all
the water he wanted and more in the water-butt outside.
Breakfast being over she sat and considered awhile, casting an
occasional glance at Golithos. It was evident that she desired him out
of the way; and it is usually a delicate matter to convey to a third
person that he is what the French call _de trop_. But she managed it.
“Golithos,” she said suddenly, “get to blazes out of this. Go outside
and stay by that tree stump over there so that I can see you’re not
listening.”
Golithos got up and moved blunderingly out of the door and stood where
she had told him to, looking sulkily about him.
THE COZENING OF GORBO
“He’s a slow-witted one if ever there was one,” Mother Meldrum
remarked. “You’re not much, but you’re better than he is. Now what
I have to tell you is this. Those children are in deadly peril--now
don’t start interrupting me, or I’ll leave you to settle it yourself.
You don’t know about King Kul, but I do. If I were to tell you only
half the things he’s done it would make each one of those coarse hairs
of yours stand up, and as that wouldn’t be a pretty sight I won’t do
it. But I’ll tell you he’s the fiercest and cruellest beast that ever
brandished a sceptre. Now the only way to save those children from a
horrible fate--at the least having their heads cut off as obtrusive
foreigners--is for you to kill him. I’m not counting the funny man at
all; he’s a goner in any case.”
“But--but surely, Mum,” said Gorbo in great horror, “no man would kill
two harmless little things like them! Why, it simply isn’t done!”
The old woman laughed scornfully. “Poor innocent old Foozelum. Why, he
does things like that for fun. It’s a saying of his that he loves to
see a little head bounce off its stalk. Of course you haven’t heard
about the infants’ class at the Sunday School. However, don’t let’s go
into disagreeable details; the main thing is that somebody has got to
finish him off. I’ve tried to get Golithos to do the job, but he hasn’t
any pluck now and I’m tired of arguing with him. Now, will you do it?
Remember it’s the only possible way of saving those little ones.”
“Yes, Mum,” replied Gorbo, springing up. “You just show me the way
there and I’ll see what I can do with my little bow.”
“You needn’t trouble about your little bow. In the first place you’d
never be able to get through the guards so as to have a shot at him.
There’s only one way to do it surely, and it’s lucky you’ve got an
experienced witch to tell you how.”
“I’ll do it any way you say, Mum; so long as I can do it quick.”
“That’s the sort of man I like,” she said approvingly. “Just wait here
a bit.”
She went out, and Gorbo sat in a state of horror and dismay. Here was a
terrible result of his fatheadedness! To know that the innocent little
ones were in the power of a tyrant who loved to see small heads bounce
off--to know that if he had not tempted them to visit the twisted trees
they would have been long ago safe in their own home--to realize that
his name would be held for ever in execration among the Snergs as the
fool who led the two children to captivity and death! No wonder he
bowed his head and moaned in anguish and wept.
Mother Meldrum returned with a long thin bundle under her arm. “Now
then, waterworks,” she said, in coarse allusion to his tears, “sit up
and pay attention for there must be no mistake here.”
“Yes, Mum.” Gorbo sat up and listened eagerly.
“First, you’ll have to get into the King’s palace without being seen.
And the only way to do that is to wear a cap of invisibility. Here
it is” (producing a seedy looking article). “It is seven hundred
years old, which accounts for its being a bit out of fashion, but it
works all right. Take it and be careful never to put it on until you
actually need it, because it only works once with one person. If you
were to put it on now you would be invisible for about ten minutes.
Then its power--with you--would be gone for ever. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mum. You mean I must only use it when I get into the palace.”
“You’ve got it. You’re improving a bit. Now the next thing is _this_.”
She produced a long whippy sapling and swished it in the air.
“Yes, Mum. And what do I do with that?”
“This,” she said impressively, “is a sword of sharpness. The instant
you smite with it it turns into a sword, and any person you smite will
be cut into two halves. It belonged originally to a cousin of Queen
Mab; he used it to clear up some family trouble. But remember that when
you have smitten it once it becomes a sapling again and its power goes
for ever--that is, as far as you are concerned.”
“Yes, Mum. You mean that if I swot the King with it he will be cut into
two bits.”
“That’s it. And it will look rather well; sorry I won’t be there to
see it. Now when you have done this there will probably be more than a
little excitement and it will be advisable for you to get out of the
way for a time. You see when the tyrant is dead the people will rise up
in their power and celebrate by freeing all the unhappy prisoners and
so forth, and that, of course, will save those dear little children.
But _you_ had better go for a little run.”
“Yes, Mum. But how do I manage it?”
“These” (producing a very shabby pair of slippers) “are shoes of
swiftness. The moment you have done the deed, slip these on and run.
But I advise you not to run too much or you may find yourself in
Mesopotamia or in the middle of the ocean or somewhere. Just a few
brisk steps will be enough, and even then it will take you half the
night to walk back, because these, like the cap and sword, only work
once. When you get back again you will be hailed as a great and good
man and the dear little things will be delivered over to you safe and
sound. Also your friend the funny man, if you really need him. So
here’s everything, nicely wrapped up. Do exactly as I’ve told you, and
remember that if you make a mess of it, the children’s ghosts will
haunt you--carrying their little heads under their arms.”
“I’ll start now,” cried Gorbo, taking the bundle containing the
wonderful treasures and his bow and other matters and making for the
door. “Just tell me the road.”
“Turn to the left when you get out of the wood and go along the green
drive for a mile or two. Then you’ll hit the high road which leads
straight to the town. So go to it!”
Gorbo thanked her briefly but fervently and darted off down the path.
Mother Meldrum watched him disappear in the trees and then went back
and sat down and laughed until she shook with horrid merriment.
A FEARFUL BARGAIN
After a few minutes’ enjoyment of her secret jest she called to
Golithos to approach, and he came in looking very sulky and seated
himself.
“Where have you sent that Snerg to?” he asked.
“Ah,” she replied, “that’s telling.” And she went on chuckling.
“Now,” she said after a time, “let’s get to business. Are you going
to take my offer or not? I may as well warn you (if you haven’t found
it out yet) that I’m a bit short-tempered, and if you get obstinate
with me I’ve ways of making all kinds of trouble for you. I’m not an
experienced witch for nothing.”
Golithos scratched his head in a discontented way. “It’s so dangerous,”
he said at length.
“So it is to make me annoyed. Now then, answer up! Will you kill the
King if I get those young ones for you?”
“But you haven’t got them to give.”
“Yah! I can get them back easily enough if I make up my mind to do
it--and if you make it worth my while.”
“Yes, but--but why didn’t you get that Snerg to kill him. He’s fool
enough.”
“Yes, he is--a bit worse than you in some ways, and that’s why I sent
him out of the way. But the reason is that I’ve found out by black
magic that if the King is killed at all it will be done by an ogre, and
you’re the only one left in these parts. So now you know.”
“Oh! So that’s it, is it?--And does your magic say what will happen to
the ogre?”
“Yes, it says he’ll live happy ever after.”
Golithos scratched his head again. In spite of his belief in Mother
Meldrum he had doubts whether she was telling the exact truth here.
“I suppose I must do it,” he muttered sullenly. “But I want to be sure
of those little ones first. You bring them here and keep them safe for
me first. Then I’ll go and do it.”
The old woman glared furiously at him. “Yes, you’re trying to get me
annoyed,” she said. “Very well, then, _I’ll_ show you.”
“No, wait, please! You see if I could just _see_ them it would put me
in such good heart for the job. I’ve been living on lettuce and stuff
like that so long that I’m not as brave as I was; and though I’ve eaten
my cow it doesn’t encourage me like my own natural food. You _must_ see
that. It’s so reasonable.”
She looked at him partly in rage and partly in doubt. “H’m!” she