The Cottage in the Woods (43 page)

As the familiar strains of the old hymn rose up to us, I thought that surely the whole village must be singing together. The thought brought tears to my eyes. Had the possibility of losing both children been enough, finally, to make them see? I could almost hear Reverend Snover, far below, exhorting his flock to reconsider their priorities, to forgive one another and pray and sing for us together through the ordeal. It was the beginning of a long night of such music—music to comfort, music to pass the time, and, most of all, music to keep us awake, for to fall asleep could mean death.

A crescent moon shone feebly in the dark sky, giving us a point of reference to measure the passage of time. As the wind grew colder still, we huddled closer together, struggling in vain to find comfort on the inhospitable rock. The children soon felt the effects of exhaustion, and despite the cold and tribulation, their eyelids grew heavy. As they were well back from the edge, and we had them wedged tightly between us, Mr. Bentley and I decided to let them sleep.

I too was exhausted, nearly paralyzed by pain and weariness, and filled with fears of what the morning would bring, but Mr. Bentley, sensing my anxiety, reached over and offered me
his paw. Throwing propriety to the winds, I took it gratefully, and held it for some time, feeling his strength coursing through me. He made it his special task that night to keep me alert and talking. Though my attention sometimes wavered, I remember him pointing out to me each of the constellations, and telling long, involved stories of the Greek myths behind each. We talked of books we’d both read, and of the story of Robinson Crusoe, which I had read aloud to him in what seemed like another lifetime. Since we had never finished the book, we took turns making up our own endings.

Goldilocks awoke several times, crying with the cold, and I realized that we were all wet through by the mist from the waterfall. I became even more fearful for the child, who had no coat of fur to protect her. The air had become even colder, almost frigid, and we had no shelter. Mr. Bentley and I leaned in toward each other, covering the little ones as best we could with our bodies.

With our faces so near to one another, I was grateful that the darkness hid my damaged face. I wondered how bad it looked, and, if I survived this adventure, how it would heal. Though I was still in great pain, I managed to hold up my end of the conversation. The talk became more personal, with me telling him all about my papa, and, as the moon drifted toward the western horizon, he talked to me of his family, and of the long-standing friendship between his own deceased father and his uncle, Amy’s father, that had led to their early betrothal. Though the subject was a torment to me, I was ineluctably drawn to it. As he talked on, I thought how much I wished that he were not so honorable, so chivalrous, so loyal. And yet weren’t these all things I loved about him? Could I wish for him to be less than he was? Maybe I could, for just this one
night—the only night we could ever spend together. Just for tonight we could sit together in the darkness, and we could hold paws and look up at the beautiful Heavens. Just for tonight he was mine.

Holding tight to each other, we persevered through those fateful hours. Toward morning, I recognized a unique four-part harmony: our friends the Bremen Town Musicians were offering up the sweet refrain of the old ballad they had performed for us one evening at the Snovers’. I felt a surge of gratitude for the villagers, who had sung for us all through the night. But could they, would they, make the promise that Teddy and Goldilocks waited for? Only a little while now until dawn, and I couldn’t guess whether the children would agree to descend the cliff at daybreak. It was certain that we could not get them down without their cooperation, and how much more dangerous would the descent be if we delayed, and were all weakened by hunger and thirst? Would my battered body even support me for the long climb down? Somewhere in all my worries I thought I heard Papa’s voice reassuring me, telling me that I could do whatever I had to do.

Even die? I wondered.

The sky was brightening in the east, stars melting into the rose-tinted radiance. As I watched, a brilliant sliver of light peered above the horizon, touching the opulent clouds with gold, and rousing a world in darkness with a foretaste of Heaven. In the beauty of that dawn, even death did not seem so frightening. If my time came, would I become part of that fiery beauty? Would Mama and Papa be waiting for me?

Goldilocks shivered beside me in her sleep. Mr. Bentley and I had protected the little ones as best we could all through the night, but her clothing was wet and cold from the mist in the air. I felt her forehead and found it cool, but that did not allay my concern.

“We’d best coax her down from here and get her warm and dry before she becomes ill,” said Mr. Bentley when I told him of my worries. “The sooner the better.”

“But what about the promise?” Teddy asked, crestfallen.

“We’ll find out, old man,” Mr. Bentley assured him, patting his back. He leaned over the brink of the ledge for a shouted conference with Reverend Snover.

“What’s the news?” Mr. Bentley called out.

Reverend Snover’s faint voice, barely heard over the waterfall, rose up, saying, “We’ve had quite a time of it down here! Great things happening!”

“We could use some good tidings!”

“Well, we held a town meeting right here last night, and decided a few things.”

“Yes?”

“First, the curfew. We voted it down. The Enchanted were in revolt in numbers too great to arrest!”

“That’s good news indeed!”

“And then we voted to impeach Judge Slugby.”

“What did you say?”

“He says,” cried a stronger voice, “that we impeached Judge Slugby!” I leaned over to see who was talking and was amazed to find that it was Constable Murdley. “That doesn’t change the ruling, mind you, but we sent some riders over to the next county to wake up the circuit judge, Judge Newton. He’s issued a stay of execution pending your appeal. That means that Judge
Slugby’s order won’t be carried out unless you lose the appeal. In the meantime, the girl stays with you.”

Reverend Snover then shouted, “Mother Shoe has not been seen since late last night! She’s nowhere to be found! It appears that she’s abandoned her children and run off!”

It required a moment to take this in. It seemed like too much to hope for that she would simply go away, and yet when I thought of the fat purse I had seen her take from Mr. Babcock, I might have guessed she wouldn’t share her gains with her pack of hungry children. I felt a surge of anger at the realization that she had never really wanted Goldilocks, or any of them, including the pathetic baby. She had just played the role of the brokenhearted mother for what she could get out of it. Since the Anthropological Society had apparently paid her to put on that act, they must surely have known it was false. Now, if she had really run off, the charade was exposed, and I hoped the whole society choked on their embarrassment.

As I cogitated on these things, Mr. Bentley related the news to Goldilocks and Teddy.

“It’s not quite the same as the promise you wanted, children, but I think it’s the best we could possibly hope for.”

Goldilocks threw her arms around Teddy, tears in her eyes. Disbelief, gratification, and relief rivaled one another on Teddy’s expressive face. “Then it’s safe to go down?”

“It’s safe to go down.”

Teddy, who had been the brave little soldier for as long as he possibly could, put his paws to his eyes and cried, “I want my mama and papa!”

“And you shall have them. We will climb down very slowly and carefully, and when you reach the bottom, they will be there for you. Can you do that?”

“Y-yes,” said Teddy, drying his tears. For a moment, Goldilocks looked as if she would speak, but she covered her mouth with her hands instead and turned away.

We waited until full light, then Mr. Bentley lectured us sternly about following his route, and testing each pawhold and foothold before putting weight on it. I knew that he too had accepted the awful dangers of the next hour, but he did his best to give the children the confidence they would need.

Mr. Bentley was first to step off the ledge, feeling his way along the cliff face and turning to encourage Teddy to follow him. Goldilocks was next, and I was last. Far below us, the villagers waited and watched, no longer the angry, divided crowd of yesterday, but hushed and anxious, their compassion almost tangible. Mr. Bentley led us in a roughly diagonal route across the rock, taking care to find footholds within the reach of the children’s shorter legs, and preventing us from being directly above or below one another. Teddy scrambled nimbly along in Mr. Bentley’s wake. Goldilocks was most apprehensive, afraid to look down, but unable to proceed without doing so. I did my best to reassure her, reminding her that she had climbed up this same cliff face the previous day and could surely climb down now. I sounded more confident than I felt. Aching in every limb, I was barely able to force my own body to move, and stretch, and bear my weight.

And then it happened, so quickly that my instincts took over before I fully realized what had occurred: the sound of slipping rocks, and Goldilocks’s cry. I grabbed for her, clutching her by the wrist, as first one and then the other of her feet went out from under her. In the space of a moment, she was dangling from my paw over the sheer drop, amid screams from below. I cried out
from the terrible pain in my side, not sure how long I could hold her. At once Teddy turned, and, reversing his direction, worked his way back to within an arm’s length of his terrified playmate. A few agonizing seconds passed as he reached for her, then I felt a sudden lightening of the burden as the two locked wrists, and Teddy slid her toward him across the rock. Just as her hand slipped from my grasp, she gained a foothold, and found her balance, and the villagers’ cheers surrounded us, reverberating against the rock. Had anyone still doubted the love between the cub and the child, they must have surely believed it then.

I called to Mr. Bentley to wait a few minutes while I recovered from the piercing pain and collected my wits, and Teddy comforted the shaken Goldilocks, then we continued our slow, arduous descent. What had seemed nearly impossible to me at first became a tiny bit more possible with each careful movement, until at last we took that final step to the blessed ground. I stood on it for only a moment, long enough to see the children gathered up in loving embraces by Mr. and Mrs. Vaughn, and Mr. Bentley swallowed up by the crowd. I saw Reverend Wright come up to me just as my legs gave way, and I fell into a pair of strong arms. Reverend Wright’s arms.

“Um, do forgive me for the familiarity, Miss Brown,” stated Reverend Wright, clearly embarrassed, “but I’m afraid you are injured. I think that I had better carry you back to the manor.”

Looking up into his face, I protested that I was much too heavy, and that he mustn’t think of such an exertion.

“I’m well over my cold now, Miss Brown, a hale and hearty specimen if ever there was one. And you are really rather light, you know. It’s no trouble at all.”

As I was actually quite unable to walk back to the manor, I put my arms about his neck, and offered no more argument.

Though I wouldn’t have believed it possible, Reverend Wright did indeed carry me all the way back to the Cottage, a herculean act of kindness that seemed no less than heroism to me. I remember very little after that, as I was put to bed and liberally dosed with laudanum. Gabriel’s beating had left me with a broken snout, a concussion, two cracked ribs, and numerous bruises. The Vaughns saw to it that I received the best medical
care, but there was no help to guide me through the maelstrom of love and guilt that overwhelmed me as I faced the fact that the night I had shared with Mr. Bentley was over now—that he would never be part of my life again. Ahead of me I could see only an endless stretch of loneliness and loss, and in my darkest moments I had no courage to go forward. The days passed, and though my aches and bruises began to heal, I became ever more quiet and lost in my own thoughts. The doctor gave the opinion that it was the shock of the dangerous misadventure that had affected me so adversely, and I let him think it was. He prescribed more laudanum, which acted upon me so that I slept much during the day, but at night I often lay awake. I found that I cared little about the darkness now, perhaps because I had faced such terror in reality that my imagination could not frighten me anymore, or perhaps because it let me imagine that I was back on the cliffside, sharing the dark night with Mr. Bentley.