The next day, in spite of the doctor’s promises, Teddy was not allowed to sit up.
It was a raw, blustering day, and every feeling of spring seemed gone from the air; the wind rattled at the windows, and Hannah built up the fire until it roared.
Teddy did not feel much disappointed at not being allowed to sit up, for Harriett came over with her paint-box, and they began coloring the pictures in some old magazines that mamma gave them; the bed was littered with the pages.
After a while mamma left them and went down into the kitchen to bake a cake.
“I wish I had brought my best apron over,” said Harriett, “for then I could have stayed for dinner if you wanted me to.”
“Why can’t you stay anyhow?” asked Teddy.
“Oh, I can’t,” said Harriett. “I must go to dancing-class right after dinner, and I have to wear my apron with the embroidered ruffles.”
“Harriett, why don’t you go home and get it, and then perhaps you could have diner up here with me; wouldn’t you like that?”
“Yes, but maybe Aunt Alice doesn’t want me to stay.”
“Yes, she does,” said Teddy. “I know she does, because she said she was so glad to have you come and amuse me.”
“Well, I’ll go home and ask my mother. I don’t know whether she’ll let me.”
“You won’t stay long, will you?”
“No, I won’t,” promised Harriett. Then she put on her jacket and hat and ran down-stairs.
Teddy went on with his painting by himself for a while, but it seemed to him Harriett was gone a long time. He called his mother once, and she came to the foot of the stairs and told him she couldn’t come up just yet.
Then Teddy began thinking of the Counterpane Fairy, and the stories she had shown him. He wondered if she wouldn’t come to see him to-day. She always came when he was lonely, and he was quite sure he was getting lonely now. Yes, he knew he was.
“Well,” said a little voice just back of the counterpane hill, “it’s not quite so steep to-day, and that’s a comfort.” There was the little fairy just appearing above the tops of his knees, — brown hood, brown cloak, brown staff, and all. She sat down with her staff in her hand and nodded to him, smiling. “Good-morning,” she said.
“Good-morning,” said Teddy. “Mrs. Fairy, I was wondering whether you wouldn’t like it if I kept my knees down, and then there wouldn’t be any hill.”
“No,” said the fairy, “I like to be up high so that I can look about me, only it’s hard climbing sometimes. Now, how about a story? Would you like to see one to-day?”
“Oh, yes!” cried Teddy. “Indeed, I would.”
“Then which square will you choose? Make haste, for I haven’t much time.”
“I think I’ll take that red one,” said Teddy.
“Very good,” said the fairy, and then she began to count.
As she counted, the red square spread and glowed until it seemed to Teddy that he was wrapped in a mist of ruddy light. Through it he heard the voice of the Counterpane Fairy counting on and on, and as she counted he heard, with her voice, another sound, —at first very faintly, then more and more clearly: clink-clank! clink-clank! clink-clank! It reminded him a little of the ticking of the clock on the mantle, only it was more metallic.
“FORTY-NINE!” cried the Counterpane Fairy, clapping her hands.
And now the sound rang loud and clear in Teddy’s ears; it was the beating of hammers upon anvils.
When Teddy looked about him he was standing on a road that ran along the side of a mountain. All along this road were openings that looked like the mouths of caverns, and from these openings poured the ceaseless sound of beating, and a ruddy glow that reddened all the air and sky.
It all seemed very familiar to Teddy, and he had a feeling that he had seen it before.
Stepping to the nearest cavern he looked in, and there he saw the whole inside of the mountain was hollowed out into forges that opened into each other be means of rocky arches. In every forge were little dwarfs dressed in leather and hammering at pieces of red-hot iron that lay on the anvils.
As Teddy stood looking in he was so tall that his head almost touched the top of the doorway. He was dressed in a long red cloak, and under that he wore a robe fastened about the waist with a girdle of rubies that shone and sparkled in the light; upon his hand was a ruby ring. The stone of the ring was turned inward toward the palm, but it was so bright that the light shone through his fingers, and he drew his cloak over his hand that the dwarfs might not see it, for it was not yet time for them to know that he was King Fireheart.
After a while the iron that the little men were beating had to be put in the fire again to heat, and then they turned and looked at Teddy.
“Good-day,” said he.
“Good-day,” answered the dwarfs, staring hard at him.
“What are you making there?” asked Teddy.
“A link,” answered the dwarfs.
“A link!” said Teddy. “What for?”
“For a chain,” answered the dwarfs, and then the iron was hot and they took it out again and laid it on the anvil. Clink-clank! clink-clank! clink-clank! went their hammers.
Teddy watched them at their work for a while, and then he went on to the next forge, and there it was the same thing — more little dwarfs hammering away at their anvils as if their lives depended on it.
“Good-day,” said Teddy, as soon as they paused to heat the iron.
“Good-day,” said the dwarfs.
“What are you making there?” asked Teddy.
“A link,” answered the dwarfs.
“What for?” said Teddy.
“For a chain,” answered the dwarfs, and then they set to work again.
Teddy went on and on through the forges, and in every one of them were little dwarfs hammering away on links.
When he came to the last forge of all, they were just finishing a link, and as they threw it into a tank of water a cloud of steam rose, almost hiding them from view. They were so busy that they paid no attention to Teddy when he spoke. “Make haste! Make haste!” they cried to each other. “It is growing late and she will soon be here.”
In a great hurry the dwarfs caught up the link from the water and laid it on the anvil again, and then they all stood back from it. Every noise has ceased through all the forges, and the dwarfs were waiting in breathless stillness as though for something to happen.
Suddenly, in the silence, Teddy heard a faint tinkling as though of icicles struck lightly together, and at the same moment he saw that a woman all in white had entered the forge down at the other end. Her dress shone with all different colors, just as icicles do when they hang in the sunlight, and as the light of the fire caught it here and there, it almost looked as though it were on fire. Her hair was very black, and she wore a crown.
She stepped up to the anvil that was in the forge and laid her hand upon it. She was too far away for Teddy to see what she did, but there was a clink as of something breaking, and a low wail arose from the dwarfs that stood near by. Then she passed on to the next anvil, and to the next, and to the next, and at each one she paused and touched the link that lay upon it, and always at that there was a clink, and a wail arose from the dwarfs.
At last she came to the very forge where Teddy was, but he had drawn back behind the stone archway and she did not see him. Gliding to the anvil, she stretched out her white finger and laid it upon the link that the dwarfs had made, and instantly, as soon as she touched it, the iron flew into pieces with a clink.
The dwarfs burst into a low wail, but the woman with the crown struck her hands together and stamped her foot in a rage. “Fools! fools!” she cried. “Not yet one link that will not fly into pieces at a touch. But you shall make the chain, though it should take your very hearts to do it.”
Then, still scowling until her beautiful face was like a thunder-cloud, and without a single glance at the trembling dwarfs, she glided from the forge and was gone.
The dwarf who held the pincers drew his arm across his forehead to wipe off the sweat. “Come,” said he, “let us set to work, for now it’s all to be done over again.”
“But tell me first,” said Teddy, “what does this all mean, and who is this woman with a crown who comes and breaks your links with a touch as soon as you have finished them?”
“Ah! that is a long, sad story,” said the dwarf who held the pincers.
“Yes, it is a long, sad story,” echoed the others. “You tell him, Leatherkin,” they added.
“Well,” said Leatherkin, sitting down on a rock that lay close by, “it’s this way. This mountain where we live is only one of many that are called the Fire Mountains, because their rocks are so red, and because they are all full of forges. Here we dwarfs used to live happily enough, for our good King Fireheart was so rich and strong that no one dared to make war on us, and we were left in peace to do what we would.
“King Fireheart, however, was not contented, for he wanted to see the world, so one day he set out on a journey, no one knew whither, leaving the country in the charge of his foster-brother.
“While he was away the Ice-Queen came with all her white spearsmen and attacked the country and conquered it. Then she set us all to work, for she knew that in all the world there were no such smiths as the dwarfs of the Fire King’s country, and not until we have forged her the magic chain that binds all but one’s self will she set us free to go about out own affairs again.
“That is why we are all working to forge the links, and if we could but make one that would stand so much as a touch of her finger we would have hopes of making it, but so far not one has been made but what flies into pieces at her lightest touch.
“But there,” he added; “we must set to work, for the days are all too short for what we have to do.”
“Wait a bit,” said Teddy, “I should like to have a stroke at that chain myself. Will you lend me a hammer and let me try?”
“No, no,” cried the dwarfs, shaking their heads. “We have no time to waste in lending out hammers and anvil.”
“Look!” said Teddy, taking off his ruby girdle and holding it out to them. “You shall have this if you will let me try.”
The dwarfs’ eyes glittered, and they took the girdle and all crowded around to look and handle it, for they had never seen such fine rubies before, not even down in the middle of the earth; and at last they told Teddy that they would lend him their hammers awhile in exchange for the ruby girdle. “Though what can you do with them?” they said, “for look at your hands; they are white and smooth, and not hairy and strong like ours.”
“Never you mind,” said Teddy, “for sometimes white, smooth hands can do the work that others can’t,” and he took one of their hammers in his hand as he spoke.
“What will you have to work with?” they asked.
“Oh, anything at all,” said Teddy, “if it is no more than an old nail, so that it is something to begin with.”
The dwarfs laughed, and picking up an old nail that was on the floor they laid it upon the anvil.
Then Teddy raised the hammer, and the ruby of the ring he wore throbbed and burned until his hand was hot, and his arm was so strong that the hammer was like a feather in his grasp.
As he beat and turned the nail he sang, and it seemed to him that the fire sang with him, clear and thin, and sounding like the voice of the Counterpane Fairy,—
“Hammer and turn!
The fire must burn,
The coals must glow,
The bellows blow.
Beat, good hammer, loud and fast;
So the chain will be made at last.
“Clankety-clink!
We forge the link.
My hammer bold,
This chain must hold.
The snow shall melt, the ice fly fast,
For the magic chain is wrought at last.”
With these words Teddy threw down the hammer and lifted the chain he had made, and it was as thin as a hair, as light as a breath, and yet so strong that no power on earth could break it.
The dwarfs sprang forward with a shout and caught the chain in their crooked fingers. “Wonderful! wonderful!” they cried. “It is indeed the magic chain that we have been trying to make for all these years. Who are you, wonderful stranger, for there is no smith among all the dwarfs who can do what you have done?”
Then without a word Teddy raised his hand, and held it up with the palm turned toward them so that they saw the ruby in his ring, and when they saw it they shouted again in their wonder and joy. “It is King Fireheart himself come back to rule the country!”
Then all the dwarfs, even from the farthest forges, came running up and gathered about the archway of the forge where Teddy stood, and when they saw that it was indeed King Fireheart they shouted and leaped and threw their caps up into the air.
When they had grown quieter Teddy bade them take him to the Ice-Queen, so all the dwarfs led him out, and up the mountain, on and on, until they came to a great castle built of ice, but ruddy with the cold light of the aurora borealis that shone behind it.
They went into the hall, past the rows of white spearsmen, and when the spearsmen would have stopped them the dwarfs told them that they were carrying the magic chain that binds all but one’s self to the Queen, and so they let the little men pass on, but all the while Teddy kept the ruby ring hidden under his cloak.
At last they came to the great chamber, where the Queen sat on a magnificent throne of ice, and when she saw the crowd she started to her feet. “Have you brought it? Have you brought it?” she cried eagerly. “Have you brought me the magic chain?”
“Yes,” shouted the dwarfs all together, “we have brought it.”
Then they stood still, and Teddy went on up the steps along.
“Where is it?” asked the Queen, and she stretched out her hands.
“It is here,” said Teddy. Very slowly he drew it out from under his cloak, and then suddenly he threw it over her. “And now take it!” he cried.
It was in vain that the Queen struggled and cried; the more she strove, the closer the chain drew about her, for it was a magic chain. At last she stood still, panting. “Who are you?” she asked.
Then Teddy raised his hand, holding it open so that she could see the ruby. “I am King Fireheart,” he cried; “and now take your own real shape, wicked enchantress that you are.”
At these words the black-browed Queen gave a cry that changed, even as she uttered it, to a croak, and a moment after she was nothing but a great black raven that spread its wings, and flew away over the heads of the dwarfs, out of the window and on out of sight.
Then Teddy turned and walked out of the great ice-chamber and down the hall, followed in silence by the dwarfs. As he went, the spearsmen started forward to lay hands upon him, but as soon as they saw the ruby ring they stood, every man stiffened just as he was, some leaning forward with outstretched arm, some with their spears lifted, some with their mouths open, but all of them turned to ice.
When Teddy and the dwarfs had reached the mountain road again they turned and looked back toward the castle.
A warm south wind was blowing, and the aurora borealis had faded away. Already the castle was beginning to melt; the spires and turrets were softening and dripping down. There was a warm red light over everything, like the light of the rising sun.
“And now,” cried the dwarfs, “will your Majesty come up to your own royal castle?”
“Yes,” answered Teddy, “I will come.”
“Quick! quick!” cried the Counterpane Fairy. “It’s time to come back.”
Teddy was at home once more. There was the flowered furniture, and the fire burning red upon the hearth. “Tick-tock! tick-tock! tick-tock!” said the clock.
“I must go,” cried the fairy, hastily, “for I heard your little cousin opening and shutting the side door.”
“Oh, wait!” cried Teddy. “Won’t you wait and let her see you too?” But the fairy was already disappearing behind the counterpane hill. All he could see was the top of her pointed hood. Then that too disappeared. The door was thrown open and Harriett came running in bringing a breath of fresh out-of-doors air with her. Her cheeks were red, and she looked very pretty in her embroidered apron and pink ribbons.
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