|
|
3 The Young Man by the Sea
Early in the morning when the fire, with a final admonition to sleep deeply, had sputtered out, Ignatius rose alone and shook himself soundly. He moved to the door softly, looked back to ensure that his family was still asleep—they were—and went toward the kitchen. Mrs. Scrumptious was already up and doing and put down a pug bowl containing something steaming and delicious. Ignatius bowed and had his breakfast. Then he went straightaway out of the kitchen door and raced down the gentle incline to the sea. He stood by the edge and waited til the water tickled his toes. Then he called softly, ‘Charles! Charles the Crab! Greetings from the Proud Pugs of Penzance!’
There was a blurp and a gurgle and a crab appeared skittering along the sand. He did a little dance around Ignatius then came to a stop with one claw waving in the air.
‘Greetings, Ignatius Oliver, noble leader of the Proud Pugs. The crustaceans salute you and your family.’
Mutual bowing followed.
‘Shall we sit and discuss your family problems?’ asked Charles politely. ‘Uncle Thomas has soaked through three pairs of shoes asking my advice.’
‘Did you tell him to come to Penzance and send the lot of us up here?’
‘More or less.’
‘How much more?’
‘Well, I’d seen the boy—Hortensia’s offspring—and he seemed promising.’ Charles got up and skittered for a moment. He was thinking and Ignatius knew it. Then the crab stopped and gave Ignatius his attention once again.
‘Iggy,’ he said seriously, ‘this is no small matter. I agree with Uncle Thomas. The story of that poor girl has haunted your family for centuries. It’s time you put a halt to it. Besides,’ he shrugged, ‘there’s the prophecy . . . .’
‘What prophecy?’ asked Ignatius, thoroughly intrigued.
Charles sighed, ‘You know it better
than I. The one about the pugs saving the honour of the family. Wiping out the
stain of long ago. That sort of thing.’ He assumed an oracular stance and held
forth:
The
little will face the great.
The young will face the ageless.
Peace will be restored before the feast of peace.
And the living will dance with the dead.
Ignatius refrained from telling him that he had never heard this curious prophecy before, but made a mental note to ask Andrew at the first opportunity.
Suddenly, Charles scuttled near to Iggy, “Listen. What do you hear?’
Iggy could only hear the scuttling of Charles on the sand, but he asked politely, ‘What should I hear?’
‘Hooves. Pounding.’
‘How many riders?’
‘One. Only one.’
Suddenly Iggy saw a rider coming at top speed along the sand. The man was very close yet made no noise at all. He felt a sharp nip from Charles’s claw and pulled back just in time to avoid the hoof of the horse as the rider reined in. He was smiling at the sea and took no notice of the indignant pug or the chuckling crab. The rider dismounted then walked toward the water, and the horse, who was a great beast and a proud one, stood trying not to look as winded as he was.
‘He’s rather rude,’ said Iggy quietly.
‘No, he can’t see us.’
‘Why not?’
‘We’re not in his time. He came here long ago and now he’s come again.’
Iggy looked again and saw that the man’s clothes were very different from any he’d seen on a human. But, if Iggy and Charles could see him, then he belonged to their story and Iggy moved to his side and walked along. He looked at the young man’s face and found it pleasant in form but there was an arrogance in his frown and a petulance in his manner as though the sea was not good enough for him. And he walked as though he wanted something better than sand beneath his fine boots. There was a little sound and the young man turned sharply and Iggy saw him adjust his face into a smile. The girl came flying toward him and Iggy saw little Walter by her side. She had a little of the look of Bess but her garments were—like the young man’s—of a different time. They embraced and talked but Iggy could hear nothing of what they said. He guessed that Walter could by his attentive expression.
‘Watch,’ hissed Charles. ‘Watch carefully.’
The young man went to his horse and pulled open a saddlebag. From it, he took a little case and handed it to the girl. She opened it with wonder and held up a bracelet of shining golden links. Then she lifted little Walter and twined the golden circle about him so that it shone against his black coat. Walter looked gravely at the two, but they paid him no mind as they looked at each other. The girl was very grateful—too grateful; and the man was proud—too proud. He saw her gratitude but she was blind to his pride. Walter kissed her and asked to be put down. The man put out his hand to pat the puppy and only Iggy saw that courtesy alone kept Walter from drawing back. The man pulled the bracelet from Walter’s neck and the little one jumped down and stood at a distance. The girl saw only the man locking the bracelet about her arm. He took his horse and the three walked together along the beach. The wind began to rise and he drew her closer and there was a coldness in the air that made Iggy shiver. The wind that tossed the girl’s hair was an angry, warning wind, but she took no notice.
Walter trotted over to Iggy.
‘Uncle,’ he said, ‘I do not like that man.’
‘Nor do I,’ said Iggy. Then he turned to Charles. ‘What do we do?’
‘It must happen again. Then perhaps it can be put a little right.’
‘What must happen?’
‘Oh, everything,’ murmured Charles and started for the water. ‘Go well, Little Walter,’ called Charles and as he disappeared, both claws waved and he gurgled, ‘May the Blessed Benedictus keep thee, noble Ignatius.’
When he had disappeared, Walter turned to Iggy,
‘Uncle, is there anything I can do?’
‘What is the watchword of the Proud Pugs?’ asked Iggy looking carefully at the boy.
‘Fidelity,’ answered Walter promptly. Hortensia had been a good teacher.
‘Then you must be faithful to the girl, for I fear that she may need your loyalty.’ The little one nodded and Iggy nudged him. ‘Let us go and find your Uncle Mac.’ He looked round and noticed how fine the day had become and that there was no wind, only a good breeze.
When they found Mac he was dancing with enthusiasm. ‘The weather is wonderful. The sun gleams on the sea and those fat waves are like perfect nose rolls.’
Iggy heard Walter’s gasp and overrode it, ‘Brother, have you had no wind and darkening clouds?’
Mac looked at Iggy. ‘Wind? Clouds? Where have you two been?’
‘Where indeed! Come, let us take our nephew for his exercise.’
As
they trotted together, Mac asked, ‘Brother, were you teasing about the wind?’
‘No.’
‘I do not understand.’
‘You will, brother. Let us frolic and later I shall tell you wonders.’
Mac looked hard at Iggy then nodded and thumped Walter, ‘Come, lad, let us see how you can dive.’ And they raced to a rock dipping its chin into the gentle sea.
Little Walter trotted with his
uncles enthusiastically,
and he watched with fascination as Ignatius climbed high so that he could toss himself, like a furry cannonball into the sea. When Mac saw Little Walter hesitate, he asked quietly, ‘Can you not swim, lad?’
‘Yes, Uncle, a bit, but I’ve never jumped from a great height.’
‘Nothing to it,’ said Mac, ‘we’ll go up together.’ And he pushed his nephew ahead of him. When they reached what, for Little Walter, was a dizzy height, Mac spoke again, ‘Ready?’
The puppy had to decide whether or not he wanted his uncles’ good opinion or the option of his own safety. He was working hard to keep his knees from shaking when he heard Ignatius’s voice from below.
‘You’ve a good spot there. Take it slowly then go with a whoosh.’
‘Ready?’ asked Mac kindly.
‘Ready!’ bleated Little Walter who was trying not to shiver.
‘We’ll go together. Now . . . run! And . . .Whoosh!’ moving slightly behind Little Walter, Mac gave him a substantial push and the two flew beyond the rock and splashed cheerfully into the sea. Ignatius paddled over to them and, when Little Walter rose to the surface, he swam beside him. There was a bubbly cheer from underwater.
‘What’s that?’ asked Little Walter, who was feeling justly proud of himself.
‘Charles and his family are cheering you,’ said Mac with approval. ‘Want to do it again?’
‘I rather think I do,’ said Little Walter.
And they climbed and jumped and swam until they saw Michael and Andrew on the shore and heard them calling that it was time for tea.
As they were walking back to the house, Ignatius turned aside with Andrew and asked about any prophecy concerning the pugs and the family.
‘Where did you hear that?’ asked Andrew rather sharply.
‘Charles the Crab,’ said Ignatius and looked boldly up at his master, ‘and you know, sir, he doesn’t fib.’
Andrew sighed, ‘Uncle Thomas says there is a prophecy, but he gave all the papers to Bessie. I expect she knows more about it than we do.’
‘Then she’ll tell us,’ said Ignatius confidently. ‘We’ll know when it’s time.’
CHAPTER 4 RATTLE BRINGS A GIRL TO CALL
 |