The Once and Future King. T. White H.

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СКАЧАТЬ dawn came slowly, so slowly and pausingly that it was impossible to determine when it really had dawned, as it does during the summer months.

      ‘Well,’ said Robin, when they had wakened and eaten the breakfast of bread and cold venison which they had brought with them, ‘you will have to love us and leave us, Kay. Otherwise I shall have Sir Ector fitting out an expedition against me to fetch you back. Thank you for your help. Can I give you any little present as a reward?’

      ‘It has been lovely,’ said Kay. ‘Absolutely lovely. May I have the griffin I shot?’

      ‘He will be too heavy to carry. Why not take his head?’

      ‘That would do,’ said Kay, ‘if somebody would not mind cutting it off. It was my griffin.’

      ‘What are you going to do about old Wat?’ asked the Wart.

      ‘It depends on what he wants to do. Perhaps he will like to run off by himself and eat acorns, as he used to, or if he likes to join our band we shall be glad to have him. He ran away from your village in the first place, so I don’t suppose he will care to go back there. What do you think?’

      ‘If you are going to give me a present,’ said the Wart, slowly, ‘I would like to have him. Do you think that would be right?’

      ‘As a matter of fact,’ said Robin, ‘I don’t. I don’t think you can very well give people as presents: they might not like it. That is what we Saxons feel, at any rate. What did you intend to do with him?’

      ‘I don’t want to keep him or anything like that. You see, we have a tutor who is a magician and I thought he might be able to restore him to his wits.’

      ‘Good boy,’ said Robin. ‘Have him by all means. I am sorry I made a mistake. At least, we will ask him if he would like to go.’

      When somebody had gone off to fetch Wat, Robin said, ‘You had better talk to him yourself.’

      They brought the poor old man, smiling, confused, hideous and very dirty, and stood him before Robin.

      ‘Go on,’ said Robin.

      The Wart did not know quite how to put it, but he said, ‘I say, Wat, would you like to come home with me, please, just for a little?’

      ‘AhnaNanaWarraBaaBaa,’ said Wat, pulling his forelock, smiling, bowing and gently waving his arms in various directions.

      ‘Come with me?’

      ‘WanaNanaWanawana.’

      ‘Dinner?’ asked the Wart in desperation.

      ‘R!’ cried the poor creature affirmatively, and his eyes glowed with pleasure at the prospect of being given something to eat.

      ‘That way,’ said the Wart, pointing in the direction which he knew by the sun to be that of his guardian’s castle. ‘Dinner. Come with. I take.’

      ‘Measter,’ said Wat, suddenly remembering one word, the word which he had always been accustomed to offer to the great people who made him a present of food, his only livelihood. It was decided.

      ‘Well,’ said Robin, ‘it has been a good adventure and I am sorry you are going. I hope I shall see you again.’

      ‘Come any time,’ said Marian, ‘if you are feeling bored. You only have to follow the glades. And you, Wart, be careful of that collar bone for a few days.’

      ‘I will send some men with you to the edge of the chase,’ said Robin. ‘After that you must go by yourselves. I expect the Dog Boy can carry the griffin’s head.’

      ‘Good-bye,’ said Kay.

      ‘Good-bye,’ said Robin.

      ‘Good-bye,’ said Wart.

      ‘Good-bye,’ said Marian, smiling.

      ‘Good-bye,’ cried all the outlaws, waving their bows.

      And Kay and the Wart and the Dog Boy and Wat and Cavall and their escort set off on the long track home.

      They had an immense reception. The return on the previous day of all the hounds, except Cavall and the Dog Boy, and in the evening the failure to return of Kay and Wart, had set the household in an uproar. Their nurse had gone into hysterics. Hob had stayed out till midnight scouring the purlieus of the forest – the cooks had burned the joint for dinner – and the sergeant-at-arms had polished all the armour twice and sharpened all the swords and axes to a razor blade in case of invasion. At last somebody had thought of consulting Merlyn, whom they had found in the middle of his third nap. The magician, for the sake of peace and quietness to go on with his rest, had used his insight to tell Sir Ector exactly what the boys were doing, where they were, and when they might be expected back. He had prophesied their return to the minute.

      So, when the small procession of returning warriors came within sight of the drawbridge, they were greeted by the whole household. Sir Ector was standing in the middle with a thick walking-stick with which he proposed to whack them for going out of bounds and causing so much trouble; the nurse had insisted on bringing out a banner which used to be put up when Sir Ector came home for the holidays, as a small boy, and this said Welcome Home; Hob had forgotten about his beloved hawks and was standing on one side, shading his eagle eyes to get the first view; the cooks and all the kitchen staff were banging pots and pans, singing ‘Will Ye No Come Back Again?’ or some such music, out of tune; the kitchen cat was yowling; the hounds had escaped from the kennel because there was nobody to look after them, and were preparing to chase the kitchen cat; the sergeant-at-arms was blowing out his chest with pleasure so far that he looked as if he might burst at any moment, and was commanding everybody in an important voice to get ready to cheer when he said, ‘One, Two!’

      ‘One, Two!’ cried the sergeant.

      ‘Huzza!’ cried everybody obediently, including Sir Ector.

      ‘Look what I have got,’ shouted Kay. ‘I have shot a griffin and the Wart has been wounded.’

      ‘Yow-yow-yow!’ barked all the hounds, and poured over the Dog Boy, licking his face, scratching his chest, sniffing him all over to see what he had been up to, and looking hopefully at the griffin’s head which the Dog Boy held high in the air so that they could not eat it.

      ‘Bless my soul!’ exclaimed Sir Ector.

      ‘Alas, the poor Phillip Sparrow,’ cried the nurse, dropping her banner. ‘Pity his poor arm all to-brast in a green sling, God bless us!’

      ‘It is all right,’ said the Wart. ‘Ah, don’t catch hold of me. It hurts.’

      ‘May I have it stuffed?’ asked Kay.

      ‘Well, I be dommed,’ said Hob. ‘Be’nt thick wold chappie our Wat, that erst run lunatical?’

      ‘My dear, dear boys,’ said Sir Ector. ‘I am so glad to see you back.’

      ‘Wold chuckle-head,’ exclaimed the nurse triumphantly. ‘Where be the girt cudgel now?’

      ‘Hem!’ said Sir Ector. ‘How dare you go out of bounds and put us all to this anxiety?’

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