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The Little Manx Nation - 1891

Chapter 9 A SHELTER IN THE FOREST

Word Count: 2869    |    Released on: 04/12/2017

ld they judge as to its size. Its outlines blended into vague shadows, evidently conforming to the position of the growing trees which constituted its supports. The walls were compose

t have been a bench, outlined in the dimness of a far corner where the ceiling seemed to descend almost to the ground, and did, in fact, join the top of a low mound which formed the wall on that side. But what seemed most remarkable in this singular dwelling-place were the living trees which here and there like columns supported the roof. The heavy riven shingles and a thatching of twisted grass had been fitted closely about them above, and the hewn or puncheon floor was carefully joined around them below. Lower limbs had been converted into convenient hooks, while attached here and there near the ceiling were several rustic, nest-like receptacles, showing a fringe of grass and leaves. As Frank and Constance entered this strange shelter the

ated the settle, and added: "Be seated. You are weary, without doubt, and your clothes seem damp." Then he noticed

with an anx

t be possible-could we, I mean, manage to cook a few of them? I am very

settle, and was leaning toward the

added, "oh, and will you let me co

t immediately rep

mused; "that is

he mountain all day without food. We shall be so thankful if you will let us p

to a brighter blaze and la

you will accept my humble ways. Let me tak

g on to his curious dress wherever possible-chattering, and still regarding the strange intruders with bright, inquisitive eyes. They were tiny red squirrels, it seemed, and their home was here in this nondescript dwelling with this eccentric man. Suddenly the hermit spok

l on his face. For the first time Frank noticed the refine

w, and there is another opening above th

r behind. Frank dropped down on the settle by Constance, thoroughly tired,

here, and I shall wake up presently. I had just such fancies when I was a child. Perhaps I am st

wn all along that this wood was full of mysteries-enchantments, and hermits, and

oice dropped

It is as if he had stepp

ard the stone sh

oks, I fancy, having ha

e light. It was a copy of Shakespeare's works-a thick book, be

n and women of the mas

tside, the thunder rolled heavily now and then, and the rain beat against the door. What did it matter? They were saf

ing up there in the mist. It seems a year since t

ce. "Yet we divide each day into the same measurements,

light and informal breakfast at the kitchen door. Yes, I am willing

eavier gust of rain. Then a fierce downpour

t home?" Constanc

will not take long to get down the mountain, once we'

re the fire. The glowing embers he heaped together and with the aid of a large pebble set the flat stone at an angle before them

g he

appetize you, but I can only

cooking meal bega

tance. "My only hope is that I can res

ad for a moment," the hermit s

ame into her cheeks that was not all of the fire, for the man's eyes-they were deep, burning eyes-were fixe

f you let anything happen to

it now and then, though the embers glowed

to superintend matters. And presently the fish and the cakes and the potatoes were ready, and the ravenous wanderers did not wait to be invited twice to partake of them. The thunder still rolled at intervals and the rain still beat at the door, but they did not heed. Within, the cheer, if not luxurious, was plenteous and grateful. The table furnishin

steaming liquid into each of t

ot harmful. It is drawn from certain roots and herbs I have gathered, an

d the beverage and added a lump of the sugar, she declared the

help themselves from a large bowl of cracked nuts. And all this delighted the visitors. Everything was so extraordinary, so simple and near to nature, so savoring of the romance of the old days. This wide, rambling room with its recesses lost in the shadows; the low, dim roof suppo

stay in a place like this forever!" Then,

ould gather mushrooms. And we would have squirrels to amuse us, and you would read to me, and perhaps I should write poems of the hills and the storms and the haunted woods, and

, and when his heavier palm closed

ou when you are like

m always li

. Yet perhaps something of what they said drifted to his ear-perhaps it was only old and troubli

t of plenteous food, the warmth and the cosy seat, and the wild unconvention of it all. The beat of th

ut with that curious note of warning he sent them scampering. The pine knot sputtered low and he tossed it among the coals, where it renewed its blaze. For a time there was silence, with only the rain sobbing at the door. Then by

y years, maybe. I have kept but a poor acc

a little t

ow, and stir me to speak of it again-the things of wh

rds came involunta

t as you did. It was in his early days on the mountains, and he came t

ut the words on her

ice-the voice of a boy-was her voice. He brought her back to me-he made her live again-here, in this isolated spot, even

, to make the listener hang upon his words. Frank, who had drawn near Constance, felt that she

it all, and there was no need. So I spoke to him no word of her, and I pledged him to speak to no one of me. For if men knew, the curious would come and I would never have my life the same again. So I made him promise, and after that first

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