So they journeyed on, and at last, one day, they came in sight of
the capital. But it had been such a long way to come that when they
reached the gates they found them shut.
The night was warm, and a high moon was overhead. 'Come,' said
Killian, 'and let us lie down in one of these orchards that are
outside the walls!' So they left the high-road, and went and lay down.
First they ate some food that they carried with them. Then Killian
opened the case in which lay the two marionettes, and looked them over
to see that they were in working order. His partner took up the odd
number, and began practising it; but Killian's attention all went to
the little king cow-herd and his queen.
He fondled them gently with his hands, and as he looked at them his
heart went up into the mountains to pray for his dear Grendel.
Presently he began dreaming to himself like Jacob, only his dream was
just of the simple things of earth. Down the great green uplands came
troops of white cattle; but to him they seemed to be bridesmaids
coming to Grendel's wedding day, and the ringing of the cow-bells was
as sweet to him as the songs of angels. Before he was fast asleep the
two marionettes had slipped off his knee and lay in the deep grass
looking up at the sky.
* * * * *
They had never seen so beautiful a sight before, for never had they
spent a night in the sweet open air till now. Over their heads swung
dusky clusters of blossom, that would look white by day; and over them
the moon went kissing its way from star to star.
Now and then single blossoms dropped as if they had something to say
to the little cow-herd and his queen, lying there in the cool grass.
But the marionettes said nothing; their hearts were very full; now, at
last, they found their old happiness return to them. Their prayers,
that they used to say to each other so tenderly, had been going wrong
for quite a long time; sudden starts and tremblings of fear had taken
hold of their light-hearted deceptions of each other; and every day
things had been going worse. But now they felt like entering upon a
long rest.
As they lay, their hands met together. The little cow-herd could
count her fingers across the palm of his hand, and never once did she
pretend to be drawing them away. How good it all seemed!
Close by them the odd man was strutting in stiff, ungainly attitudes,
cricking his neck and elbows, and tossing up his toes. How foolish he
seemed to them in their innocent wisdom! They knew he was nothing to
them, for he had no heart; he was nothing but a trick on springs. Yet
they wished he would go away, and give them room to be alone, while
the moon was making a white dream over their lives.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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