The Poniard's Hilt; Or, Karadeucq and Ronan. A Tale of Bagauders and Vagres. Эжен Сю
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do the Korrigans eat on that table cloth as white as snow? Do you know, Karadeucq, you who love them so much?"
"The dear little darlings! It can not be costly to nourish their rosy and transparent bodies that are hardly two feet high. Sister Roselyk says they are gourmands. What is it they eat? The juice of night flowers, served upon gold grass blades?"
"Gold grass blades? That superb grass that, if you step upon it, puts you to sleep and imparts to you the knowledge of the language of birds – "
"And what do the Korrigans drink?"
"The dew of heaven in the azure shell of wrens' eggs – what boozers they are! But at the slightest sound of human feet – off they vanish. They vanish into the fountain and return to their crystal and coral palace at the bottom of the water. It is to the end of being able to escape quickly the sight of men that they always stay near the water. Oh, the pretty little fairies! I would give my best bow and twenty arrows, I would give all my fishing nets, I would give ten years, twenty years of my life to see a Korrigan!"
"Karadeucq, my son, make not such impious vows on such a stormy night as this – it may bring ill luck – I have never heard the enraged sea roar like this – it sounds like thunder – "
"Good mother, I would brave murky darkness, tempest and thunder to see a Korrigan!"
"Hold your tongue, rash boy, hold your tongue – do not say such words!"
"What a bold and venturesome lad you are, my boy!"
"Grandfather, you should join us in scolding my brother Karadeucq instead of encouraging him in his dangerous wishes. Do you not know – "
"What, my blonde Roselyk?"
"Alas! grandfather, the Korrigans steal the children of poor mothers and put little monsters in their place. The song so has it – "
"Let's hear that song, my little Roselyk."
"It runs this way, grandfather:
"Mary is very sad; she has lost her little Laoik; the Korrigan snatched him away.
"As I went to the spring for water I left my Laoik in his cradle; when I came back to the house, my little one was gone far away.
"And in its place the Korrigan left me this monster – with a face as red as a toad's; he scratches and bites.
"And all day he wants to be nursed, and yet he is seven years old – and yet he wants to be nursed.
"Mary is very sad; she has lost her little Laoik; the Korrigan snatched him away!
"That is the song, grandfather. And will brother still want to meet the wicked things, these Korrigan fairies who snatch away babes?"
"What have you now to say in defense of your fairies, my pet?"
"Grandfather, my sweet sister Roselyk has been imposed upon by evil tongues. All mothers with ugly urchins for children declare that the Korrigans substituted a little monster for their darling."
"Well answered, my grandson!"
"And, on my part, I maintain that the Korrigans are, on the contrary, sweet and serviceable. Do you know the valley of Helle?"
"Yes, my dare-devil."
"One time the finest hay in the world was to be got in that valley —
" 'Hay from Helle, perfumed hay.' "
"Well, that was thanks to the Korrigans – "
"Indeed? Tell me how – "
"When the time for mowing and haymaking came around, the Korrigans arrived and camped on the crests of the rocks around the valley to watch over the meadow. If during the day the sun parched the grass too much, the Korrigans caused a plentiful dew to drop. When the grass was mowed, they scattered the clouds that might have interfered with the making of hay. A foolish and wicked bishop wanted to chase away the pretty and kind fairies. He caused a large heather fire to be kindled early one night all over the rocks; when these were sufficiently hot, the ashes, were all carefully removed. At their regular hour, and suspecting nothing, the dear Korrigans came to hold watch over the meadow, but they instantly burned their feet on the hot rocks. They then wept and cried: 'Oh! Wicked world! Oh! Wicked world!' Since then they never more returned to the place, and as a consequence, ever since, the hay has been either rotted by the rain, or burned by the sun in the valley of Helle. That is what comes of being unkind to the Korrigans. No, I shall not die happy if I do not see at least one of them – "
"Children, children, put no faith in such witcheries; above all never wish to witness any. It brings bad luck – "
"What, mother, simply because I desire to see a Korrigan, some misfortune will befall me? What kind of misfortune?"
"Hesus only knows, wild boy! I wish you would keep still; your talk frightens me."
"What a tempest! The house shakes!"
"And it is on such a night that Karadeucq dared to say he would give his life to see a Korrigan."
"Come, dear wife, your fears only show weakness."
"Mothers are weak and timid, Jocelyn. We must not tempt God – "
Old Araim stops working for a moment at his net; his head drops on his chest.
"What is the matter, folks? You seem to be in a brown study! Do you fear, like Madalen, that danger may threaten Karadeucq just because, on such a tempestuous night as this, he wishes to see a Korrigan?"
"I am not thinking of the fairies; I am thinking of this frightful storm, Jocelyn. I read to you and your children the narrative of our ancestor Joel, who lived about five hundred and odd years ago, if not in this very house, at least in the neighborhood of where we now are. I was thinking that on a somewhat similar stormy night, Joel and his son, both greedy after stories like the inquisitive Gauls that they were – "
"Did the trick of stopping a traveler at the pass of Craig'h, binding him fast, and carrying him home to tell stories – "
"And the traveler happened to be the Chief of the Hundred Valleys – a hero!"
"Oh! Oh! How your eyes sparkle as you speak, Karadeucq."
"If they sparkle, grandfather, it is because they are moist. Whenever I hear you speak of the Chief of the Hundred Valleys tears come to my eyes."
"What is the matter with Erer, father? The dog growls between his teeth and pricks up his ears."
"Grandfather, do you hear the watchdog bark?"
"Something must be going on outside of the house – "
"Alas! If it is the gods who wish to punish my son for his audacious wishes, their anger is swift – Karadeucq, come near me."
"What! Madalen – there you are weeping and embracing the boy, as if really misfortune threatened him. Come, be more sensible!"
"Do you not hear the dogs barking louder and louder? And there is Erer now running to the door. There is something wrong going on outside – "
"Fear not, mother; it is some wolf prowling about. Where is my bow?"
"Karadeucq, you stay here – "
"Dear Madalen, be not in such fear for your son, nor you my sweet Roselyk for your brother. Perhaps it is better not to challenge the hobgoblins and fairies on a stormy night, but your fears are idle. There is no wolf prowling about here; if there were, Erer would long ago have bitten off the panel of the door and rushed to the encounter of the unwelcome guest – "
"Father is right – it may be a stranger who lost his way."
"Come, Kervan, come brother, let's to the gate of the yard."
"My son, you stay here by my side – "
"But, mother, I cannot allow my brother Kervan to go out alone."
"Hark! Hark! It seems to me I hear a voice calling – "
"Alas! mother, some misfortune threatens our house – you said it – "
"Roselyk, my child, do not add fuel to your mother's fright. What is there astonishing