Chapter Five.
The Story of the Three Wishes—continued.
It was indeed a turning of the tables for a dwarf to be afraid of them. It gave the sisters courage to speak to him. “We heard your cries,” said Arminel. “Ever so far off in our cottage across the fields we heard them. What is the matter? Have you hurt yourself?” The little man groaned.
“I have had a fall,” he said, “from a branch of the tree under which I am lying. I climbed up to shake down some large fir-cones, and lost my footing. I have hurt myself sadly. I feel bruised all over. How I shall ever get back to my comrades I do not know,” and again he groaned.
He was not a very courageous dwarf evidently; perhaps the courage of the race had been lost with its stature! But the sisters felt very sorry for him.
“Have you broken any bones, do you think?” said Chloe, who was very practical.
The dwarf turned and twisted himself about with many sighs and moans.
“No,” said he, “I think I am only bruised and terribly cold. I have been lying here so long, so long. I cannot go home; they are miles away in the centre of the forest.”
Arminel and Chloe considered. They did not much like the idea of the uncanny creature spending a night under their roof, even though they no longer feared that he was playing them any trick. If the mere sight of a dwarf brought ill-luck, what might not they expect from the visit of one of the spell-bound race? But their grandmother’s words returned to their mind.
“You must come home with us,” they said, speaking together. “We can at least give you shelter and warmth, and a night’s rest may do you much good.”
“There is the salve for bruises which granny taught us to make,” added Chloe.
“We have some of it by us, I know.” The dwarf gave a sigh of relief.
“Maidens,” he said, “you shall never have cause to regret your kindness. I know your cottage. We have often watched you when you little knew it. I think I could make shift to walk there if you will each give me an arm.” They got him to his feet with some difficulty. He was so small, hardly reaching up to their elbows, that it ended in their almost carrying him between them. And they seemed to get home much more quickly than they had come, even though they walked slowly. The dwarf knew every step of the way, and his queer bead-like eyes pierced through the darkness as if it had been noonday.
“A little to the right,” he would say, or, “a few paces to the left, the ground is better.”
And almost before they knew where they were they found themselves before their own door. The wind had gone down, all was peaceful and still, and inside the kitchen was a picture of comfort, the fire burning red and cheerily.
“Ah,” said the little man, when they had settled him on a stool in front of the hearth, “this is good!” and he stretched out his small brown hands to the ruddy glow. “It is long since I have seen such a fire, and very long since I have been in a room like this.” But then he grew quite silent, and the sisters did not like to ask him what he meant.
Chloe busied herself with the coffee which boiled up in no time; and in the larder, to her surprise, when she went in to fetch a loaf of bread intended for the sisters’ supper, she found a pat of butter and a jug of cream which she had not known were there. She was very pleased, for both she and Arminel had hospitable hearts, and she would have been sorry to have had nothing for their guest but dry bread and skim-milk coffee.
“Arminel,” she said, as she came back into the kitchen, “you had forgotten this cream and butter, fortunately so, for now we can give our friend a nice supper.”
Arminel looked quite astonished.
“I took all the butter there was with me to market this morning, and I never keep cream except for our Sunday treat.”
But there was another surprise in store.
Arminel in her turn went into the larder.
“Chloe!” she called out, “see what you have forgotten. Eggs!” and she held up three large, beautiful brown eggs.
“I don’t know where they have come from,” said Chloe. “I’m certain they were not there when I packed my basket. Besides, none of my hens lay eggs of that colour.”
“Never mind,” said the dwarf; “here they are, and that is enough. We shall now have an omelette for supper. An omelette and hot coffee! That is a supper for a king.”
He seemed to be getting quite bright and cheerful, and complained no more of his bruises as he sat there basking in the pleasant warmth of the fire. Supper was soon ready, and the three spent a pleasant evening; the little man asking the sisters many questions about their life and occupations. They told him all about their present troubles, and he told them to keep up heart, and never forget their good grandmother’s counsel.
“Did you know our grandmother?” they asked in surprise.
“I have heard of her,” was all he said; and though they were curious to know more, they did not venture to question him further.
After supper they made up a bed for him on the kitchen settle, where he said he was sure he would sleep most comfortably.
“And now farewell,” he added; “I shall be off in the morning before you are stirring. Your kindness has so refreshed me that I feel sure I shall be able to make my way home without difficulty.”
He gave a little sigh as he spoke.
“I would fain do what I can in return for your goodness,” he continued. “Some things are still in my power. I can give you three wishes which, under certain conditions, will be fulfilled.”
The sisters’ eyes sparkled with delight.
“Oh, thank you a thousand times,” they said. “Pray tell us what we must do, and we will follow your orders exactly.”
“Three wishes between you are all I can give,” he replied. “One each, and the fulfilment of these depends upon the third, to which a secret is attached, and this secret you must discover for yourselves. The key of it is, I trust, in your own hearts.”
“We will do our best to find it,” said Arminel. “If it has to do with our love for each other you may trust us. Chloe and I never quarrel.”
But suddenly, as she said this, the remembrance of that day struck her, and she grew red, feeling the dwarfs eyes fixed upon her.
“At least,” she added hurriedly, “I should say we seldom quarrel, though I’m afraid our anxieties lately have not sweetened our tempers.”
“Beware, then, for the future,” said the dwarf. “All will depend on yourselves.”
The sisters went to bed full of eagerness and hopefulness, longing for the next day to come that they might decide how to use their strange friend’s gift.
“I shall not be able to sleep,” said Arminel; “my head is so full of the three wishes.”
“And so is mine,” said her sister.
“You shall have the first, Arminel, and I the second. The third will be the one to ponder over.”
“I shall have no difficulty in deciding,” said Arminel. “And you, Chloe, being the younger, must, of course, be guided partly by my advice.”
“I don’t see that at all,” said Chloe. “The dwarf said nothing about elder or younger, and—”
At this moment a loud snore from the kitchen reminded them that their guest was still there.
“Dear, dear,” said Chloe. “What would he think if he heard us beginning to quarrel already? We must beware.”
But Arminel was not so ready to give in, and there is no saying what might not have befallen, had it not happened that the moment her head touched the pillow she fell fast asleep. And Chloe quickly followed her example.
They awoke later than usual the next morning, feeling quite rested and refreshed.
“I never slept so soundly in my life,” said Arminel. “I suppose it was with being so tired.”
“I don’t know,” said Chloe. “I have an idea that our friend had something to do with our falling asleep so quickly to prevent us quarrelling. Now, Arminel, whatever we do, let us remember his warning.”
“Of course, I don’t want to quarrel,” her sister replied. “We didn’t need the dwarf to come here to tell us to be good friends. But, after all, his promise of fulfilling our wishes may be nonsense. I long to test it. I wonder if he is still there, by the bye.”
No, he was gone; the little bed they had made up for him on the settle, of some extra blankets and pillows, was neatly folded away. The fire was already lighted and burning brightly, the kettle singing on the hearth—the room showed signs of having been carefully swept and dusted, and the window was slightly open to admit a breath of the fresh morning air.
“Good little dwarf!” exclaimed Arminel. “I wish he would pay us a visit often if he helps us so nicely with our work.”
They sat down to breakfast in the best of spirits; and when the meal was over, and they went out, they found that the dwarf’s good offices had not been confined to the house. The cow was carefully foddered, and looking most prosperous and comfortable—the poultry had been seen to, the hen-house cleaned out, and already, early as it was, several lovely cream white eggs had been laid in the nests.
All this was very encouraging. “There can be no sort of doubt,” said Chloe, “that our friend, dwarf though he be, has a kind heart and magic power. I feel certain his promises are to be relied upon. But remember, Arminel, the first two wishes will be no good unless we agree about the third. What shall we do?”
“I propose,” said Arminel, who had plenty of good sense, “that we go about our work as usual till this evening. Then each of us will have had time to decide as to her own wish, and each of us can propose something for the third. As to the third, we can then consult together.”
To this Chloe agreed.
They spoke little to each other during the day, but when the light began to fail their work was over. They sat down together by the fire.
“Now for a good talk,” said Chloe. “We have the whole evening before us.”
“Five minutes would be enough for me,” said Arminel. “I’ve got my wish cut and dry. I have been longing to tell you all day, but I thought it best to keep to our determination of this morning.”
“How strange!” said Chloe. “I am just in the same condition. I decided upon my wish almost immediately. Tell me what yours is, and I will tell you mine.”
“My wish,” said Arminel, “is to have a cow. A dun-coloured cow I think I should prefer—I can picture her so sweet and pretty—who would give milk all the year round without ever running short.”
“Excellent,” cried Chloe; “my wish goes well with yours. For what I want is a dozen hens who would each lay an egg every morning in the year without fail. I should thus have as many fresh eggs as I could possibly want, and enough to spare for setting whenever I liked. Some of my present hens are very good mothers, and would hatch them beautifully.”
“I think your wish a very good one,” said Arminel. “But now as to the fulfilment. We have now expressed our wishes distinctly, but there is no use as yet in going to look for the new cow in the shed or hens in the hen-house, seeing that there remains, alas! the third one! What can it be?”
“Could it be for a hen-house?” said Chloe; “my poor hens are not very well off in their present one, and it is right to make one’s animals comfortable; so this would be a kind-hearted wish.”
“Not more than to wish for a warm shed for my cows,” said Arminel. “Cows require much more care than hens. I daresay that is what we are meant to wish for.”
“I am certain it is not,” said Chloe. “At least, if you wish for a cow-shed, I wish for a hen-house.”
“That, of course, is nonsense,” said Arminel. “I feel sure the dwarf meant we were to agree in what we wished for. And if you were amiable and unselfish you would join with me, Chloe.”
“I might say precisely the same thing to you,” said Chloe coldly.
And though they went on talking till bedtime they came to no conclusion. Indeed, I fear a good many sharp and unkind words passed between them, and they went to bed without saying good-night to each other. So far it did not seem as if the dwarf’s gift was to bring them happiness.