Part 7 (1/2)
Looking timidly round, Fidunia beheld a stout, red-faced, grizzle-haired man, in leathern gaiters, who angrily threatened herself and Fido with an uplifted stick. Absolutely terrified by this, her first experience of man, poor Fidunia felt as if glued to the spot. She could not move hand or foot. A surging tide of red blood rushed over her face and neck, and covered the poor child of nature with confusion.
Had she looked beautiful in her distress, perhaps the rough proprietor might have treated her more tenderly. As it was, increasing in violence, he drew nearer still, when Fido, who already bristled with rage, flew upon him, and ere he could lay hands upon his trembling mistress, fixed his sharp white teeth apparently in the fierce stranger's leg; but, luckily for the savage Baron, Fido's jaws only met in his legging.
Coward, as well as bully, the rough man changed his tone and implored Fidunia to call off her dog. Recovered from her first terror, the little maid beckoned to Fido to follow her, and ere this selfish squire could look calmly about him, she had flown nimbly over the wall, followed by her dog.
They both ran a considerable way in their terror, not knowing that the friendly Anna (in reality a good fairy) had thrown so much dust in the rude Baron's eyes, that confused and bewildered, he knew not which way the intruders had escaped, but continued to search for them with wicked words and impotent threats long after they had left him and his inhospitable domains behind.
Meantime the travellers pursued their way until, worn out and hungry, they came, towards nightfall, into a small hamlet upon the great high-road.
The village inn, with its gay painted sign of the ”Golden Boar”
flapping to and fro in the evening breeze, stood invitingly open.
Fidunia approached its threshold. The spruce landlady, airing herself with arms akimbo at the open door, stared hard at the little maiden as she paused longingly in front of the steps. ”Can you pay for a night's lodging?” she asked in a matter of fact tone. Alas, no--poor Fidunia possessed not one single piece of that hitherto unneeded money--without which she was soon to find she could gain nothing in the pleasant world she had so longed to explore.
She sorrowfully pa.s.sed the cheerful preparations for wayfarers better supplied than herself with all-conquering gold, and heart-sore and weary sat herself down on an old stump of wood outside the village smithy.
Here, however, she soon forgot her fatigue for a while in watching the red furnace, and the grimy fire-illumined men who moved briskly to and fro, striking bright sparks from the glowing metal. They interested her strangely by their easy motions of power, and apparently inexhaustible store of latent strength. She was gradually recalled to herself, however, by perceiving that she and Fido had become the centre of attraction to a gathering crowd. The children accustomed to cl.u.s.ter round the entrance of the warm and busy workshop now turned their attention to this solitary maiden, and the beautiful dog, which, standing before her, ever on the alert, seemed ready to guard his mistress to the death.
The heated smith, coming for a moment to cool himself at the half-barred entrance, found an inquisitive group pressing round the young girl, regardless of Fido's low growls, as with hair on end and quivering tail, he prepared to spring on anyone who might touch or insult her.
Of a kindly and generous nature, and ever ready to befriend the helpless, Master Franz stepped up to the stranger and civilly asked her pleasure.
Fidunia, frightened, as well she might be, by the rude remarks of the gaping village girls, exclaimed in a tearful voice, ”Oh, sir, I know not where to go for a night's lodging, I and my poor dog, we are travelling to the great city of Deva, but we are tired, and unable to journey farther this day.” Franz, sorely puzzled, looked around in vain for help or counsel. He knew better than the s.h.i.+vering little maid before him what rustic gossip meant. A stalwart bachelor living all alone above his smithy, he himself, however compa.s.sionate, could offer no shelter to the poor wanderers. A sudden thought struck him. ”Come with me,” he cried, ”to my good friend Dorothy of the ”Golden Boar;” I warrant me she will blithely give thee food and lodging for the night.”
”Kind, sir,” answered the poor girl sorrowfully, ”I have no money to offer to the good lady of the inn, and she has already bidden me from her door; but,” continued Fidunia timidly, ”I and my dog are able to make some few pa.s.ses together, which might give amus.e.m.e.nt to the worthy Dorothy, and even induce her to grant us leave to rest for the night beneath her roof.”
The friendly Franz chuckled with delight as he exclaimed, ”By my halidome, damsel, thy words are well-flavoured. Dame Dorothy shall give to thee and thy pretty beast a hearty meal; and then, my mates,” he added, turning to the a.s.sembled villagers, ”we will step up to the ”Golden Boar” when our labours for the day are ended, and see whether we cannot help the maiden and her dog on their voyage.”
At these words Fidunia felt greatly comforted, and she and Fido fearlessly retraced their steps in the wake of the burly smith.
Dame Dorothy had long ere this left her door, and was now engaged in the great kitchen superintending with her own hands the preparation of a savoury pie, which somehow or other she hoped Master Franz would that very evening help her to consume. Her old husband had been gathered to his fathers many months agone. Since his death the worthy woman often felt the hours after dark pa.s.s very slowly. No one knew this interesting fact better than the shrewd yet simple smith, who, early or late, felt sure of a warm welcome whenever he crossed the comfortable threshold of the ”Golden Boar.”
When the landlady heard steps in her pa.s.sage, a slight cloud of annoyance rose to her brow--for what mistress likes to be interrupted in her mysterious culinary rites? The incipient frown, however, speedily changed to a smile as Franz's broad figure appeared in the doorway. With a ”welcome, neighbour,” she hurriedly stooped to shut the oven door, an exertion which called additional colour into her round healthy cheek.
”Friend Dorothy,” said Franz, ”I bring thee this forlorn maiden; for my sake thou wilt refresh her and her dog. I must away. I have a coat of mail in hand that cannot be left; but anon I will return.” So saying, and without pausing for queries or doubts, the brawny smith disappeared, leaving in his place the weary drooping Fidunia and her little comrade.
Dorothy cast a keen scrutinizing glance on the young girl, eagerly scanning her form and features. Rea.s.sured by the brief inspection, her eye travelled back to the polished mirror by the fire which reflected her own buxom charms. With some complacency she readjusted the snowy coif (slightly disarranged by her labours), over her brilliant black hair, and wiping her hands upon the rough ap.r.o.n a.s.sumed for kitchen-work, she turned towards Fidunia, and in no unkindly voice bade her welcome.
Nor did she do this by halves. She exerted herself with real good will.
Before long, rested, comforted and composed, the little maid sat by her new friend, and, while she fondled her faithful Fido, she related her adventures (always excepting her possession of the talisman and her dreams) to the wondering Dorothy.
But now Franz, true to his promise, returned, bringing with him many of the villagers; for the fame of the stranger and her beautiful companion had spread apace, and a rumour indeed had been set afloat that the animal was gifted with supernatural powers. Refreshed and inspirited, Fidunia and her dog went joyfully through all the exercises previously described. Besides this, she borrowed a kerchief from Dorothy. She then put Fido out of the room and closed the door, carefully concealing the white ensign in the blacksmith's wide hanging pocket. She next called her favourite; with eager zest he burst open the half-latched door, and ran round and round the chamber sniffing in every direction. At last, after a long search, he was successful, and amid loud shouts of surprise and delight drew forth from the depths of Franz's coat the blus.h.i.+ng Dorothy's badge, the good man the while looking not one whit more composed than his hostess. Fidunia then neatly folded up the kerchief; and Fido, bearing it in his mouth, lightly sprang on the landlady's knee and placed it gently in her hand.
They repeated similar tricks over and over again. Hearty plaudits were showered on the sagacious dog and his youthful mistress, who, flitting to and fro in anxious excitement, and finding herself impeded in her swift motions by the long folds of her grey robe, drew them in a hasty yet picturesque fas.h.i.+on through her waist-belt. Flushed and animated by the friendly approval manifested on all sides, she now stooped forward, wreathing her arms into a natural hoop, through which Fido flew backwards and forwards with frolicsome ardour. Nor was this all, for the trim landlady, in answer to an earnest whisper, also rose. Clasping hands with the stranger maiden, she soon learnt how to twist and retwist beneath her own and Fidunia's arms in a quaint manner that Franz and his comrades thought exceedingly bewitching. At the same time Fido, watching his opportunity, continually sprang between Dorothy and his mistress, thus making a merry third in this pretty exhibition.
As they at last paused, exhausted and laughing over their own exertions, the swart blacksmith stood forth in their midst. In sober manly tones he addressed his neighbours, and gave them an outline of Fidunia's history, as he had gathered it from herself and from Dorothy.
He explained, that she was travelling to the great city of Deva, but that, friendless and forlorn, she was dest.i.tute of the money requisite to procure for herself and her companion the necessaries of life. He added, that since the little maid and her pretty favourite had given them so much pleasure, he considered that it would only be making her a fair return if he and his fellows collected a small sum to help their guest on her way.
His well-timed appeal met with an enthusiastic response. Grey-haired old men, tender-hearted mothers carrying their babes, blooming young wenches with their awkward rustic swains, all pressed around to deposit in Franz's cap their hard-earned yet freely-bestowed mite for the astonished maiden. The children whispering their thanks into Fido's willing ear, threw their soft little arms around his neck, and pressed their chubby faces on his coat of golden silk.
The bustling landlady meantime bestirred herself and her household, and ere long set before the company the pie she had already prepared, with sundry enticing concomitants. Foaming tankards, moreover, were placed on the board, wherein the villagers deeply pledged the wanderer and her inseparable companion.