Mary Louisa Molesworth
Christmas-Tree Land (Musaicum Christmas Specials)
Christmas Specials Series
Published by
Books
- Advanced Digital Solutions & High-Quality eBook Formatting -
2020 OK Publishing
EAN 4064066385170
Table of Contents
CHAPTER III. THE MYSTERIOUS COTTAGE.
CHAPTER IV. FAIRY HOUSEKEEPING.
CHAPTER V. THE STORY OF A KING'S DAUGHTER.
CHAPTER VI. THE STORY OF A KING'S DAUGHTER
CHAPTER VII. A WINDING STAIR AND A SCAMPER.
CHAPTER VIII. THE SQUIRREL FAMILY.
CHAPTER IX. A COMMITTEE OF BIRDS.
CHAPTER XI. THE EAGLES' EYRIE.
CHAPTER XII. A VISION OF CHRISTMAS TREES.
THE WHITE CASTLE
Rollo could not help noticing the pretty picture the two made.
CHAPTER I.
THE WHITE CASTLE.
'The way was long, long, long, like the
journey in a fairy tale.'
Miss Ferrier.
It was not their home. That was easy to be seen by the eager looks of curiosity and surprise on the two little faces inside the heavy travelling carriage. Yet the faces were grave, and there was a weary look in the eyes, for the journey had been long, and it was not for pleasure that it had been undertaken. The evening was drawing in, and the day had been a somewhat gloomy one, but as the light slowly faded, a soft pink radiance spread itself over the sky. They had been driving for some distance through a flat monotonous country; then, as the ground began to rise, the coachman relaxed his speed, and the children, without knowing it, fell into a half slumber.
It was when the chariot stopped to allow the horses breathing time that they started awake and looked around them. The prospect had entirely changed. They were now on higher ground, for the road had wound up and up between the hills, which all round encircled an open space—a sort of high up valley, in the centre of which gleamed something white. But this did not at first catch the children's view. It was the hills rising ever higher and higher, clothed from base to summit with fir-trees, innumerable as the stars on a clear frosty night, that struck them with surprise and admiration. The little girl caught her breath with a strange thrill of pleasure, mingled with awe.
'Rollo,' she said, catching her brother's sleeve, 'it is a land of Christmas trees!'
Rollo gazed out for a moment or two without speaking. Then he gave a sigh of sympathy.
'Yes, Maia,' he said; 'I never could have imagined it. Fancy, only fancy, if they were all lighted up!'
Maia smiled.
'I don't think even the fairies themselves could do that,' she answered.
But here their soft-voiced talking was interrupted. Two attendants, an elderly man and a young, rosy-faced woman, whose eyes, notwithstanding her healthy and hearty appearance, bore traces of tears, had got down from their seat behind the carriage.
'Master Rollo,'—'My little lady,' they said, speaking together; 'yonder is the castle. The coachman has just shown it to us. This is the first sight of it.'
'The white walls one sees gleaming through the trees,' said the girl, pointing as she spoke. 'Marc cannot see it as plainly as I.'
'My eyes are not what they were,' said the old servant apologetically.
'I see it,'—'and so do I,' exclaimed Rollo and Maia. 'Shall we soon be there?'
'Still an hour,' replied Marc; 'the road winds about, he says.'
'And already we have been so many, many hours,' said Nanni, the maid, in doleful accents.
'Let us hope for a bright fire and a welcome when we arrive,' said old Marc cheerfully. 'Provided only Master Rollo and Miss Maia are not too tired, we should not complain,' he added reprovingly, in a lower voice, turning to Nanni. But Maia had caught the words.
'Poor Nanni,' she said kindly. 'Don't be so sad. It will be better when we get there, and you can unpack our things and get them arranged again.'
'And then Marc will have to leave us, and who knows how they will treat us in this outlandish country!' said Nanni, beginning to sob again.
But just then the coachman looked round to signify that the horses were rested, and he was about to proceed.
'Get up, girl—quickly—get up,' said Marc, reserving his scolding, no doubt, till they were again in their places and out of hearing of their little master and mistress.
The coachman touched up his horses; they seemed to know they were nearing home, and set off at a brisk pace, the bells on their harness jingling merrily as they went.
The cheerful sound, the quicker movement, had its effect on the children's spirits.
'It is a strange country,' said Maia, throwing herself back among the cushions of the carriage, as if tired of gazing out. 'Still, I don't see that we need be so very unhappy here.'
'Nor I,' said Rollo. 'Nanni is foolish. She should not call it an outlandish country. That to us it cannot be, for it is the country of our ancestors.'
'But so long ago, Rollo,' objected Maia.
'That does not matter. We are still of the same blood,' said the boy sturdily. 'We must love, even without knowing why, the place that was home to them—the hills, the trees—ah, yes, above all, those wonderful forests. They seem to go on for ever and ever, like the stars, Maia.'
'Yet I don't think them as pretty as forests of different kinds of trees,' said Maia thoughtfully.