English
ThethirdpersoninthetriowasLottie.
Shewasasmallthinganddidnotknowwhatadversitymeant,andwasmuchbewilderedbythealterationshesawinheryoungadoptedmother.
ShehadhearditrumoredthatstrangethingshadhappenedtoSara,butshecouldnotunderstandwhyshelookeddifferent—whysheworeanoldblackfrockandcameintotheschoolroomonlytoteachinsteadoftositinherplaceofhonorandlearnlessonsherself.
TherehadbeenmuchwhisperingamongthelittleoneswhenithadbeendiscoveredthatSaranolongerlivedintheroomsinwhichEmilyhadsolongsatinstate.
Lottie’schiefdifficultywasthatSarasaidsolittlewhenoneaskedherquestions.
Atsevenmysteriesmustbemadeveryclearifoneistounderstandthem.
“Areyouverypoornow,Sara?”shehadaskedconfidentiallythefirstmorningherfriendtookchargeofthesmallFrenchclass.“Areyouaspoorasabeggar?”
Shethrustafathandintotheslimoneandopenedround,tearfuleyes.
“Idon’twantyoutobeaspoorasabeggar.”
Shelookedasifshewasgoingtocry.AndSarahurriedlyconsoledher.
“Beggarshavenowheretolive,”shesaidcourageously.“Ihaveaplacetolivein.”
“Wheredoyoulive?”persistedLottle.“Thenewgirlsleepsinyourroom,anditisn’tprettyanymore.”
“Iliveinanotherroom,”saidSara.
“Isitaniceone?”inquiredLottie.“Iwanttogoandseeit.”
“Youmustnottalk,”saidSara.“MissMinchinislookingatus.Shewillbeangrywithmeforlettingyouwhisper.”
Shehadfoundoutalreadythatshewastobeheldaccountableforeverythingwhichwasobjectedto.
Ifthechildrenwerenotattentive,iftheytalked,iftheywererestless,itwasshewhowouldbereproved.
ButLottiewasadeterminedlittleperson.
IfSarawouldnottellherwhereshelived,shewouldfindoutinsomeotherway.
Shetalkedtohersmallcompanionsandhungabouttheeldergirlsandlistenedwhentheyweregossiping;andactinguponcertaininformationtheyhadunconsciouslyletdrop,shestartedlateoneafternoononavoyageofdiscovery,climbingstairsshehadneverknowntheexistenceof,untilshereachedtheatticfloor.
Thereshefoundtwodoorsneareachother,andopeningone,shesawherbelovedSarastandinguponanoldtableandlookingoutofawindow.
“Sara!”shecried,aghast.“MammaSara!”
Shewasaghastbecausetheatticwassobareanduglyandseemedsofarawayfromalltheworld.
Hershortlegshadseemedtohavebeenmountinghundredsofstairs.
Saraturnedroundatthesoundofhervoice.Itwasherturntobeaghast.Whatwouldhappennow?
IfLottiebegantocryandanyonechancedtohear,theywerebothlost.
Shejumpeddownfromhertableandrantothechild.
“Don’tcryandmakeanoise,”sheimplored.“Ishallbescoldedifyoudo,andIhavebeenscoldedallday.It’s—it’snotsuchabadroom,Lottie.”
“Isn’tit?”gaspedLottie,andasshelookedrounditshebitherlip.
Shewasaspoiledchildyet,butshewasfondenoughofheradoptedparenttomakeanefforttocontrolherselfforhersake.
Then,somehow,itwasquitepossiblethatanyplaceinwhichSaralivedmightturnouttobenice.“Whyisn’tit,Sara?”shealmostwhispered.
Sarahuggedhercloseandtriedtolaugh.Therewasasortofcomfortinthewarmthoftheplump,childishbody.Shehadhadaharddayandhadbeenstaringoutofthewindowswithhoteyes.
“Youcanseeallsortsofthingsyoucan’tseedownstairs,”shesaid.
“Whatsortofthings?”demandedLottie,withthatcuriositySaracouldalwaysawakeneveninbiggergirls.
“Chimneys—quiteclosetous—withsmokecurlingupinwreathsandcloudsandgoingupintothesky—andsparrowshoppingaboutandtalkingtoeachotherjustasiftheywerepeople—andotheratticwindowswhereheadsmaypopoutanyminuteandyoucanwonderwhotheybelongto.
Anditallfeelsashighup—asifitwasanotherworld.”
“Oh,letmeseeit!”criedLottie.“Liftmeup!”
Saraliftedherup,andtheystoodontheoldtabletogetherandleanedontheedgeoftheflatwindowintheroof,andlookedout.
Anyonewhohasnotdonethisdoesnotknowwhatadifferentworldtheysaw.
Theslatesspreadoutoneithersideofthemandslanteddownintotheraingutter-pipes.
Thesparrows,beingathomethere,twitteredandhoppedaboutquitewithoutfear.
Twoofthemperchedonthechimneytopnearestandquarrelledwitheachotherfiercelyuntilonepeckedtheotheranddrovehimaway.
Thegarretwindownexttotheirswasshutbecausethehousenextdoorwasempty.
“Iwishsomeonelivedthere,”Sarasaid.
“Itissoclosethatiftherewasalittlegirlintheattic,wecouldtalktoeachotherthroughthewindowsandclimbovertoseeeachother,ifwewerenotafraidoffalling.”
Theskyseemedsomuchnearerthanwhenonesawitfromthestreet,thatLottiewasenchanted.
Fromtheatticwindow,amongthechimneypots,thethingswhichwerehappeningintheworldbelowseemedalmostunreal.
OnescarcelybelievedintheexistenceofMissMinchinandMissAmeliaandtheschoolroom,andtherollofwheelsinthesquareseemedasoundbelongingtoanotherexistence.
“Oh,Sara!”criedLottie,cuddlinginherguardingarm.“Ilikethisattic—Ilikeit!Itisnicerthandownstairs!”
“Lookatthatsparrow,”whisperedSara.“IwishIhadsomecrumbstothrowtohim.”
“Ihavesome!”cameinalittleshriekfromLottie.“Ihavepartofabuninmypocket;Iboughtitwithmypennyyesterday,andIsavedabit.”
Whentheythrewoutafewcrumbsthesparrowjumpedandflewawaytoanadjacentchimneytop.
Hewasevidentlynotaccustomedtointimatesinattics,andunexpectedcrumbsstartledhim.
ButwhenLottieremainedquitestillandSarachirpedverysoftly—almostasifshewereasparrowherself—hesawthatthethingwhichhadalarmedhimrepresentedhospitality,afterall.
Heputhisheadononeside,andfromhisperchonthechimneylookeddownatthecrumbswithtwinklingeyes.Lottiecouldscarcelykeepstill.
“Willhecome?Willhecome?”shewhispered.
“Hiseyeslookasifhewould,”Sarawhisperedback.“Heisthinkingandthinkingwhetherhedare.Yes,hewill!Yes,heiscoming!”
Heflewdownandhoppedtowardthecrumbs,butstoppedafewinchesawayfromthem,puttinghisheadononesideagain,asifreflectingonthechancesthatSaraandLottiemightturnouttobebigcatsandjumponhim.
Atlasthishearttoldhimtheywerereallynicerthantheylooked,andhehoppednearerandnearer,dartedatthebiggestcrumbwithalightningpeck,seizedit,andcarrieditawaytotheothersideofhischimney.
“Nowheknows”,saidSara.“Andhewillcomebackfortheothers.”
Hedidcomeback,andevenbroughtafriend,andthefriendwentawayandbroughtarelative,andamongthemtheymadeaheartymealoverwhichtheytwitteredandchatteredandexclaimed,stoppingeverynowandthentoputtheirheadsononesideandexamineLottieandSara.
Lottiewassodelightedthatshequiteforgotherfirstshockedimpressionoftheattic.
Infact,whenshewaslifteddownfromthetableandreturnedtoearthlythings,asitwere,Sarawasabletopointouttohermanybeautiesintheroomwhichsheherselfwouldnothavesuspectedtheexistenceof.
“Itissolittleandsohighaboveeverything,”shesaid,“thatitisalmostlikeanestinatree.Theslantingceilingissofunny.
See,youcanscarcelystandupatthisendoftheroom;andwhenthemorningbeginstocomeIcanlieinbedandlookrightupintotheskythroughthatflatwindowintheroof.Itislikeasquarepatchoflight.
Ifthesunisgoingtoshine,littlepinkcloudsfloatabout,andIfeelasifIcouldtouchthem.
Andifitrains,thedropspatterandpatterasiftheyweresayingsomethingnice.
Theniftherearestars,youcanlieandtrytocounthowmanygointothepatch.Ittakessuchalot.
Andjustlookatthattiny,rustygrateinthecorner.
Ifitwaspolishedandtherewasafireinit,justthinkhowniceitwouldbe.
Yousee,it’sreallyabeautifullittleroom.”
Shewaswalkingroundthesmallplace,holdingLottie’shandandmakinggestureswhichdescribedallthebeautiesshewasmakingherselfsee.ShequitemadeLottieseethem,too.
LottiecouldalwaysbelieveinthethingsSaramadepicturesof.
“Yousee,”shesaid,“therecouldbeathick,softblueIndianrugonthefloor;andinthatcornertherecouldbeasoftlittlesofa,withcushionstocurlupon;andjustoveritcouldbeashelffullofbookssothatonecouldreachthemeasily;andtherecouldbeafurrugbeforethefire,andhangingsonthewalltocoverupthewhitewash,andpictures.
Theywouldhavetobelittleones,buttheycouldbebeautiful;andtherecouldbealampwithadeeprose-coloredshade;andatableinthemiddle,withthingstohaveteawith;andalittlefatcopperkettlesingingonthehob;andthebedcouldbequitedifferent.
Itcouldbemadesoftandcoveredwithalovelysilkcoverlet.Itcouldbebeautiful.
Andperhapswecouldcoaxthesparrowsuntilwemadesuchfriendswiththemthattheywouldcomeandpeckatthewindowandasktobeletin.”
“Oh,Sara!”criedLottie.“Ishouldliketolivehere!”
WhenSarahadpersuadedhertogodownstairsagain,and,aftersettingheronherway,hadcomebacktoherattic,shestoodinthemiddleofitandlookedabouther.
TheenchantmentofherimaginingsforLottiehaddiedaway.
Thebedwashardandcoveredwithitsdingyquilt.
Thewhitewashedwallshoweditsbrokenpatches,thefloorwascoldandbare,thegratewasbrokenandrusty,andthebatteredfootstool,tiltedsidewaysonitsinjuredleg,theonlyseatintheroom.
Shesatdownonitforafewminutesandletherheaddropinherhands.
ThemerefactthatLottiehadcomeandgoneawayagainmadethingsseemalittleworse—justasperhapsprisonersfeelalittlemoredesolateaftervisitorscomeandgo,leavingthembehind.
“It’salonelyplace,”shesaid.“Sometimesit’stheloneliestplaceintheworld.”
Shewassittinginthiswaywhenherattentionwasattractedbyaslightsoundnearher.
Sheliftedherheadtoseewhereitcamefrom,andifshehadbeenanervouschildshewouldhaveleftherseatonthebatteredfootstoolinagreathurry.
Alargeratwassittinguponhishindquartersandsniffingtheairinaninterestedmanner.
SomeofLottie’scrumbshaddroppeduponthefloorandtheirscenthaddrawnhimoutofhishole.
Helookedsoqueerandsolikeagray-whiskereddwarforgnomethatSarawasratherfascinated.
Helookedatherwithhisbrighteyes,asifhewereaskingaquestion.
Hewasevidentlysodoubtfulthatoneofthechild’squeerthoughtscameintohermind.
“Idaresayitisratherhardtobearat,”shemused.“Nobodylikesyou.
Peoplejumpandrunawayandscreamout,`Oh,ahorridrat!’
Ishouldn’tlikepeopletoscreamandjumpandsay,`Oh,ahorridSara!’themomenttheysawme.
Andsettrapsforme,andpretendtheyweredinner.It’ssodifferenttobeasparrow.
Butnobodyaskedthisratifhewantedtobearatwhenhewasmade.
Nobodysaid,`Wouldn’tyouratherbeasparrow?’”
Shehadsatsoquietlythattherathadbeguntotakecourage.
Hewasverymuchafraidofher,butperhapshehadaheartlikethesparrowandittoldhimthatshewasnotathingwhichpounced.Hewasveryhungry.
Hehadawifeandalargefamilyinthewall,andtheyhadhadfrightfullybadluckforseveraldays.
Hehadleftthechildrencryingbitterly,andfelthewouldriskagooddealforafewcrumbs,sohecautiouslydroppeduponhisfeet.
“Comeon,”saidSara;“I’mnotatrap.Youcanhavethem,poorthing!PrisonersintheBastilleusedtomakefriendswithrats.SupposeImakefriendswithyou.”
HowitisthatanimalsunderstandthingsIdonotknow,butitiscertainthattheydounderstand.
Perhapsthereisalanguagewhichisnotmadeofwordsandeverythingintheworldunderstandsit.
Perhapsthereisasoulhiddenineverythinganditcanalwaysspeak,withoutevenmakingasound,toanothersoul.
Butwhatsoeverwasthereason,theratknewfromthatmomentthathewassafe—eventhoughhewasarat.
Heknewthatthisyounghumanbeingsittingontheredfootstoolwouldnotjumpupandterrifyhimwithwild,sharpnoisesorthrowheavyobjectsathimwhich,iftheydidnotfallandcrushhim,wouldsendhimlimpinginhisscurrybacktohishole.
Hewasreallyaverynicerat,anddidnotmeantheleastharm.
Whenhehadstoodonhishindlegsandsniffedtheair,withhisbrighteyesfixedonSara,hehadhopedthatshewouldunderstandthis,andwouldnotbeginbyhatinghimasanenemy.
Whenthemysteriousthingwhichspeakswithoutsayinganywordstoldhimthatshewouldnot,hewentsoftlytowardthecrumbsandbegantoeatthem.
AshediditheglancedeverynowandthenatSara,justasthesparrowshaddone,andhisexpressionwassoveryapologeticthatittouchedherheart.
Shesatandwatchedhimwithoutmakinganymovement.
Onecrumbwasverymuchlargerthantheothers—infact,itcouldscarcelybecalledacrumb.
Itwasevidentthathewantedthatpieceverymuch,butitlayquitenearthefootstoolandhewasstillrathertimid.
“Ibelievehewantsittocarrytohisfamilyinthewall,”Sarathought.“IfIdonotstiratall,perhapshewillcomeandgetit.”
Shescarcelyallowedherselftobreathe,shewassodeeplyinterested.
Theratshuffledalittlenearerandateafewmorecrumbs,thenhestoppedandsniffeddelicately,givingasideglanceattheoccupantofthefootstool;thenhedartedatthepieceofbunwithsomethingverylikethesuddenboldnessofthesparrow,andtheinstanthehadpossessionofitfledbacktothewall,slippeddownacrackintheskirtingboard,andwasgone.
“Iknewhewanteditforhischildren,”saidSara.“IdobelieveIcouldmakefriendswithhim.”
Aweekorsoafterward,ononeoftherarenightswhenErmengardefounditsafetostealuptotheattic,whenshetappedonthedoorwiththetipsofherfingersSaradidnotcometoherfortwoorthreeminutes.
Therewas,indeed,suchasilenceintheroomatfirstthatErmengardewonderedifshecouldhavefallenasleep.
Then,tohersurprise,sheheardherutteralittle,lowlaughandspeakcoaxinglytosomeone.
“There!”Ermengardeheardhersay.“Takeitandgohome,Melchisedec!Gohometoyourwife!”
AlmostimmediatelySaraopenedthedoor,andwhenshedidsoshefoundErmengardestandingwithalarmedeyesuponthethreshold.
“Who—whoareyoutalkingto,Sara?”shegaspedout.
Saradrewherincautiously,butshelookedasifsomethingpleasedandamusedher.
“Youmustpromisenottobefrightened—nottoscreamtheleastbit,orIcan’ttellyou,”sheanswered.
Ermengardefeltalmostinclinedtoscreamonthespot,butmanagedtocontrolherself.
Shelookedallroundtheatticandsawnoone.
AndyetSarahadcertainlybeenspeakingtosomeone.Shethoughtofghosts.
“Isit—somethingthatwillfrightenme?”sheaskedtimorously.
“Somepeopleareafraidofthem,”saidSara.“Iwasatfirst—butIamnotnow.”
“Wasit—aghost?”quakedErmengarde.
“No,”saidSara,laughing.“Itwasmyrat.”
Ermengardemadeonebound,andlandedinthemiddleofthelittledingybed.Shetuckedherfeetunderhernightgownandtheredshawl.Shedidnotscream,butshegaspedwithfright.
“Oh!Oh!”shecriedunderherbreath.“Arat!Arat!”
“Iwasafraidyouwouldbefrightened,”saidSara.“Butyouneedn’tbe.Iammakinghimtame.HeactuallyknowsmeandcomesoutwhenIcallhim.Areyoutoofrightenedtowanttoseehim?”
Thetruthwasthat,asthedayshadgoneonand,withtheaidofscrapsbroughtupfromthekitchen,hercuriousfriendshiphaddeveloped,shehadgraduallyforgottenthatthetimidcreatureshewasbecomingfamiliarwithwasamererat.
AtfirstErmengardewastoomuchalarmedtodoanythingbuthuddleinaheapuponthebedandtuckupherfeet,butthesightofSara’scomposedlittlecountenanceandthestoryofMelchisedec’sfirstappearancebeganatlasttorousehercuriosity,andsheleanedforwardovertheedgeofthebedandwatchedSaragoandkneeldownbytheholeintheskirtingboard.
“He—hewon’trunoutquicklyandjumponthebed,willhe?”shesaid.
“No,”answeredSara.“He’saspoliteasweare.Heisjustlikeaperson.Nowwatch!”
Shebegantomakealow,whistlingsound—solowandcoaxingthatitcouldonlyhavebeenheardinentirestillness.
Shediditseveraltimes,lookingentirelyabsorbedinit.
Ermengardethoughtshelookedasifshewereworkingaspell.
Andatlast,evidentlyinresponsetoit,agray-whiskered,bright-eyedheadpeepedoutofthehole.Sarahadsomecrumbsinherhand.
Shedroppedthem,andMelchisedeccamequietlyforthandatethem.
Apieceoflargersizethantheresthetookandcarriedinthemostbusinesslikemannerbacktohishome.
“Yousee,”saidSara,“thatisforhiswifeandchildren.Heisverynice.Heonlyeatsthelittlebits.
AfterhegoesbackIcanalwayshearhisfamilysqueakingforjoy.Therearethreekindsofsqueaks.
Onekindisthechildren’s,andoneisMrs.Melchisedec’s,andoneisMelchisedec’sown.”
Ermengardebegantolaugh.
“Oh,Sara!”shesaid.“Youarequeer—butyouarenice.”
“IknowIamqueer,”admittedSara,cheerfully;“andItrytobenice.”
Sherubbedherforeheadwithherlittlebrownpaw,andapuzzled,tenderlookcameintoherface.
“Papaalwayslaughedatme,”shesaid;“butIlikedit.
HethoughtIwasqueer,buthelikedmetomakeupthings.I—Ican’thelpmakingupthings.
IfIdidn’t,Idon’tbelieveIcouldlive.”
Shepausedandglancedaroundtheattic.
“I’msureIcouldn’tlivehere,”sheaddedinalowvoice.
Ermengardewasinterested,asshealwayswas.“Whenyoutalkaboutthings,”shesaid,“theyseemasiftheygrewreal.YoutalkaboutMelchisedecasifhewasaperson.”
“Heisaperson,”saidSara.“Hegetshungryandfrightened,justaswedo;andheismarriedandhaschildren.
Howdoweknowhedoesn’tthinkthings,justaswedo?Hiseyeslookasifhewasaperson.ThatwaswhyIgavehimaname.”
Shesatdownonthefloorinherfavoriteattitude,holdingherknees.
“Besides,”shesaid,“heisaBastilleratsenttobemyfriend.Icanalwaysgetabitofbreadthecookhasthrownaway,anditisquiteenoughtosupporthim.”
“IsittheBastilleyet?”askedErmengarde,eagerly.“DoyoualwayspretenditistheBastille?”
“Nearlyalways,”answeredSara.“SometimesItrytopretenditisanotherkindofplace;buttheBastilleisgenerallyeasiest—particularlywhenitiscold.”
JustatthatmomentErmengardealmostjumpedoffthebed,shewassostartledbyasoundsheheard.Itwasliketwodistinctknocksonthewall.
“Whatisthat?”sheexclaimed.
Saragotupfromthefloorandansweredquitedramatically:
“Itistheprisonerinthenextcell.”
“Becky!”criedErmengarde,enraptured.
“Yes,”saidSara.“Listen;thetwoknocksmeant,`Prisoner,areyouthere?’”
Sheknockedthreetimesonthewallherself,asifinanswer.
“Thatmeans,`Yes,Iamhere,andalliswell.’”
FourknockscamefromBecky’ssideofthewall.
“Thatmeans,”explainedSara,”`Then,fellow-sufferer,wewillsleepinpeace.Goodnight.’”
Ermengardequitebeamedwithdelight.
“Oh,Sara!”shewhisperedjoyfully.“Itislikeastory!”
“Itisastory,”saidSara.“Everything’sastory.Youareastory—Iamastory.MissMinchinisastory.”
AndshesatdownagainandtalkeduntilErmengardeforgotthatshewasasortofescapedprisonerherself,andhadtoberemindedbySarathatshecouldnotremainintheBastilleallnight,butmuststealnoiselesslydownstairsagainandcreepbackintoherdesertedbed.
Share this article to
FINISH