In Midsummer Days, and Other Tales Part 5

And he ran after the monster and hit it on the slenderest part of its hind-legs in the hope of breaking its s.h.i.+n-bone. With superhuman strength he felled the giant. Anna was saved, and the pilot held her in his arms.

"Where shall we go?" he asked. "Home, of course?"

It did not occur to him to ask her whence she had come, for reasons which we shall learn hereafter.

They walked along the footpath, hand in hand, happy at their unexpected meeting. When they had gone a little way, Victor suddenly stood still.

"Just wait a moment," he said. "I must go and have a look at the bull; I'm sorry for it, poor brute!"

The expression of Anna's face changed, and the corners of her eyes grew bloodshot. "All right! I'll wait," she said, with a savage and malicious glance at the pilot.

Victor gazed at her sadly, for he knew that she had told him an untruth.

But he followed her. There was something extraordinary about her walk, and all at once the whole of his left side grew as cold as ice.

When they had proceeded a little further, Victor stopped again.

"Give me your hand," he said. "No, the left one." He saw that she was not wearing her engagement ring.

"Where's your ring?" he asked.

"I've lost it," she replied.

"You are my Anna, and yet you are not," he exclaimed. "A stranger has taken possession of you."

As he said these words, she looked at him with a side-long glance, and all at once he realised that her eyes were not human, but the blood-shot eyes of a bull; and then he understood.

"Begone, witch!" he cried, and breathed into her face.

If you could only have seen what happened now! The would-be Anna was immediately transformed, her face grew green and yellow like gall, and she burst with rage; at the next moment a black rabbit jumped over the bilberry bushes and disappeared in the wood.

Victor stood alone in the perplexing, bewildering forest, but he was not afraid. "I will go on," he thought, "and if I should meet the devil himself, I will not be afraid; I shall say the Lord's Prayer, and that will go a long way towards protecting me."

He trudged on and presently he came to a cottage. He knocked; the door was opened by an old woman; he inquired whether he could stay the night.

He could stay, if he liked, but the old dame had nothing to offer him but a small attic, which was only so so.

Victor did not mind what it was like, as long as it was a place where he could sleep.

When they were agreed about the price, he followed her upstairs to the attic. A huge wasp's nest hung right over the bed, and the old dame began to make excuses for harbouring such guests.

"It doesn't matter in the least," interrupted the pilot, "wasps are like human beings, quite inoffensive until you irritate them. Perhaps you keep snakes, too?"

"Well, there are some, of course."

"I thought so; they like the warmth of the bed, so we shall get on. Are they adders or vipers? I don't very much mind which, but on the whole I prefer vipers."

The old dame watched him breathlessly while he arranged his bed, and in every way betrayed his firm resolution to spend the night in her cottage.

All at once an excited buzzing could be heard outside the closed window, and a huge hornet b.u.mped against the gla.s.s.

"Let the poor thing come in," said the pilot, opening the window.

"No, no, not that one, kill it!" yelled the old dame.

"Why should I? Perhaps its young ones are in this room, and would starve. Am I to lie here and listen to the screaming of hungry babies?

No, thank you! Come in, little wasp!"

"It will sting you!" shrieked the old dame.

"No, indeed it won't. It only stings the wicked."

The window was open now. A big hornet, as large as a pigeon's egg, flew in; buzzing like a ba.s.s string, it flew at once to the nest. And then it was still.

The old dame left the attic, and the pilot got between the sheets.

When he came downstairs into the parlour on the following morning, the old dame was not there. A black cat sat on the only chair and purred; cats have been condemned to purr, because they are such lazy beasts, and they must do something.

"Get up, p.u.s.s.y," said the pilot, "and let me sit down."

And he took the cat and put it on the hearth. But it was no ordinary cat, for immediately sparks began to fly from its fur, and the chips caught file.

"If you can light a fire, you can make me some coffee," said the pilot.

But the cat is so const.i.tuted that it never wants to do what it is told, and so it began at once to swear and spit until the fire was out.

In the meantime the pilot had heard somebody leaning a spade against the wall of the cottage. He looked out of the window and saw the old dame standing in a pit which she had dug in the garden.

"I see you are digging a grave for me, old woman," he said.

The old dame came in. When she saw Victor safe and sound, she was beside herself with amazement; she confessed that up to now n.o.body had ever left the attic alive, and that therefore she had dug his grave in antic.i.p.ation.

She was a little short-sighted, but it seemed to her that the pilot was wearing a strange handkerchief round his neck.

"Ha ha! Have you ever seen such a handkerchief in all your life?"

laughed Victor, putting his hand up to his throat.

Wound round his neck was a snake which had tied itself in front into a knot with two bright yellow spots; the spots were its ears, and its eyes shone like diamonds.

"Show auntie your scarfpins, little pet," said the pilot, gently scratching its head, and the snake opened its mouth and disclosed two sharp, pointed teeth right in the middle of it.

At the sight of them the old dame fell on her knees and said, "Now I see that you have received my letter and understood its meaning. You are a brave lad!"

"So the letter I got out of the automatic machine was from you," said the pilot, taking it from his breast pocket. "I shall have it framed when I get home."

Would you like to know what was written in the letter? Just these few words in plain English, "Don't be bluffed," which might be translated, "Fortune favours the Brave."

"Yes, but how was it that the pilot could walk from the s.h.i.+p down the pa.s.sage?" asked Annie-Mary, when her mama had finished the story. "And did he come back, or had he dreamed the whole story?"