The Counterpane Fairy Part 10

Father Bear was after him, but before he could reach him the merman was up and running for the open strip of water in the distance. Father Bear chased him the whole way; sometimes he caught him and gave him a cuff that sent him flying, but at last the merman reached the water and dived into it. He must have had a sore head for days afterward, however.

When the Father Bear came back again, he was panting and growling.

"There," said he, "I guess that's the last time any of the mermen will try to play their tricks on us. Come, come," he went on, "it's time we were off for our hunting."

But the Mother Bear only shook her head. She had been doing nothing since she saw that Sprawley was an ice-merman but sit and rock herself backward and forward and whine. "I couldn't go, my dear; I couldn't indeed," she said. "I'm all of a tremble now to think how that dreadful merman has been playing with Fatty and Dumpy day after day and I never knew it."

"Then I'll go by myself," said Father Bear, gruffly, "and leave the children home with you. But you can go, Fairy," he said to Teddy. "I'll carry you on my back if you like, and maybe you'll see me catch a young walrus. I suppose it was you who split him down the back, as the Counterpane Fairy brought you."

"Yes, sir, it was," said Teddy, timidly; "but I'm afraid I can't go with you; I'm afraid I'm going back,"--for the bears, the fields of ice, the far-off green water, were all wavering and growing misty before his sight. Faintly he heard the voices of the bear cubs: "Owie! owie! don't go away"; for they had grown fond of him the day before.

Then their voices died away. He was back in the old familiar room with the Counterpane Fairy perched upon his knees, and a bunch of snowdrops in the vase beside the bed. The door opened and his mother stood holding the k.n.o.b in her hand and speaking to Hannah outside, and in that moment the Counterpane Fairy was gone.

CHAPTER SIXTH. THE RUBY RING.

THE next day, in spite of the doctor's promises, Teddy was not allowed to sit up.

It was a raw, bl.u.s.tering day, and every feeling of spring seemed gone from the air; the wind rattled at the windows, and Hannah built up the fire until it roared.

Teddy did not feel much disappointed at not being allowed to sit up, for Harriett came over with her paint-box, and they began coloring the pictures in some old magazines that mamma gave them; the bed was littered with the pages.

After a while mamma left them and went down into the kitchen to bake a cake.

"I wish I had brought my best ap.r.o.n over," said Harriett, "for then I could have stayed for dinner if you wanted me to."

"Why can't you stay anyhow?" asked Teddy.

"Oh, I can't," said Harriett. "I must go to dancing-cla.s.s right after dinner, and I have to wear my ap.r.o.n with the embroidered ruffles."

"Harriett, why don't you go home and get it, and then perhaps you could have diner up here with me; wouldn't you like that?"

"Yes, but maybe Aunt Alice doesn't want me to stay."

"Yes, she does," said Teddy. "I know she does, because she said she was so glad to have you come and amuse me."

"Well, I'll go home and ask my mother. I don't know whether she'll let me."

"You won't stay long, will you?"

"No, I won't," promised Harriett. Then she put on her jacket and hat and ran down-stairs.

Teddy went on with his painting by himself for a while, but it seemed to him Harriett was gone a long time. He called his mother once, and she came to the foot of the stairs and told him she couldn't come up just yet.

Then Teddy began thinking of the Counterpane Fairy, and the stories she had shown him. He wondered if she wouldn't come to see him to-day. She always came when he was lonely, and he was quite sure he was getting lonely now. Yes, he knew he was.

"Well," said a little voice just back of the counterpane hill, "it's not quite so steep to-day, and that's a comfort." There was the little fairy just appearing above the tops of his knees,--brown hood, brown cloak, brown staff, and all. She sat down with her staff in her hand and nodded to him, smiling. "Good-morning," she said.

"Good-morning," said Teddy. "Mrs. Fairy, I was wondering whether you wouldn't like it if I kept my knees down, and then there wouldn't be any hill."

"No," said the fairy, "I like to be up high so that I can look about me, only it's hard climbing sometimes. Now, how about a story? Would you like to see one to-day?"

"Oh, yes!" cried Teddy. "Indeed, I would."

"Then which square will you choose? Make haste, for I haven't much time."

"I think I'll take that red one," said Teddy.

"Very good," said the fairy, and then she began to count.

As she counted, the red square spread and glowed until it seemed to Teddy that he was wrapped in a mist of ruddy light. Through it he heard the voice of the Counterpane Fairy counting on and on, and as she counted he heard, with her voice, another sound,--at first very faintly, then more and more clearly: clink-clank! clink-clank! clink-clank! It reminded him a little of the ticking of the clock on the mantle, only it was more metallic.

"FORTY-NINE!" cried the Counterpane Fairy, clapping her hands.

And now the sound rang loud and clear in Teddy's ears; it was the beating of hammers upon anvils.

When Teddy looked about him he was standing on a road that ran along the side of a mountain. All along this road were openings that looked like the mouths of caverns, and from these openings poured the ceaseless sound of beating, and a ruddy glow that reddened all the air and sky.

It all seemed very familiar to Teddy, and he had a feeling that he had seen it before.

Stepping to the nearest cavern he looked in, and there he saw the whole inside of the mountain was hollowed out into forges that opened into each other be means of rocky arches. In every forge were little dwarfs dressed in leather and hammering at pieces of red-hot iron that lay on the anvils.

As Teddy stood looking in he was so tall that his head almost touched the top of the doorway. He was dressed in a long red cloak, and under that he wore a robe fastened about the waist with a girdle of rubies that shone and sparkled in the light; upon his hand was a ruby ring.

The stone of the ring was turned inward toward the palm, but it was so bright that the light shone through his fingers, and he drew his cloak over his hand that the dwarfs might not see it, for it was not yet time for them to know that he was King Fireheart.

After a while the iron that the little men were beating had to be put in the fire again to heat, and then they turned and looked at Teddy.

"Good-day," said he.

"Good-day," answered the dwarfs, staring hard at him.

"What are you making there?" asked Teddy.

"A link," answered the dwarfs.

"A link!" said Teddy. "What for?"

"For a chain," answered the dwarfs, and then the iron was hot and they took it out again and laid it on the anvil. Clink-clank! clink-clank!

clink-clank! went their hammers.

Teddy watched them at their work for a while, and then he went on to the next forge, and there it was the same thing--more little dwarfs hammering away at their anvils as if their lives depended on it.

"Good-day," said Teddy, as soon as they paused to heat the iron.

"Good-day," said the dwarfs.