Surely it was the next thing to flying, the way in which Eily sped across the meadows, far from the hated scene of her imprisonment. The bare brown feet seemed scarcely to touch the ground; the brown locks streamed out on the wind; the little blue ap.r.o.n fluttered wildly, like a banner of victory. On! on! on! with panting bosom, with parted lips, with many a backward glance to see if any one were following; on went the little maid, over field and fell, through moss and through mire, till at last--oh, happy, blessed sight!--the dark forest rose before her, and she knew that she was saved.

Quite at the other end of the wood lay the spot she was seeking; but she knew the way well, and on she went, but more carefully now,--parting the branches so that she broke no living twig, and treading cautiously lest she should crush the lady fern, which the Green Men love. How beautiful the ferns were, uncurling their silver-green fronds and spreading their slender arms abroad! How sweetly the birds were singing! How pleasant, how kind, how friendly was everything in the sweet green wood!

And here at last was the oak-tree, and at the foot of it there stood the yellow toadstool, looking as if it did not care about anything or anybody, which in truth it did not: Breathless with haste and eagerness, Eileen tapped the toadstool three times with a bit of holly, saying softly, "Slanegher Banegher! Skeen na lane!" And, lo! and, behold! there sat the Green Man, just as if he had been there all the time, fanning himself with his scarlet cap, and looking at her with a comical twinkle in his sharp little eyes.

"Well, Eily," he said, "is it back so soon ye are? Well, well, I'm not surprised! And how do ye like yer gift?"

"Oh, yer Honor's Riverence--Grace, I mane!" cried poor Eily, bursting into tears, "av ye'll plaze to take it away! Sure it's nearly kilt I am along av it, an' no plazure or coomfort in ut at all at all! Take it away, yer Honor, take it away, and I'll bliss ye all me days!" and, with many sobs, she related the experiences of the past three days. As she spoke, diamonds and pearls still fell in showers from her lips, and half-unconsciously she held up her ap.r.o.n to catch them as they fell, so that by the time she had finished her story she had more than a quart of splendid gems, each as big as the biggest kind of pea.

The Green Man smiled, but not unkindly, at the recital of Eileen's woes. "Faith, it's a hard time ye've had, my maiden, and no mistake! But now 'tis all over. Hold fast the jewels ye have there, for they're the last ye'll get." He touched her lips with his cap, and said, "Cabbala ku! the charm is off."

Eily drew a long breath of relief, and the fairy added,--

"The truth is, Eily, the times are past for fairy gifts of this kind.

Few people believe in the Green Men now at all, and fewer still ever see them. Why, ye are the first mortal child I've spoken to for a matter of two hundred years, and I think ye'll be the last I ever speak to. Fairy gifts are very pretty things in a story, but they're not convenient at the present time, as ye see for yourself. There's one thing I'd like to say to ye, however," he added more seriously; "an' ye'll take it as a little lesson-like, me dear, before we part. Ye asked me for diamonds and pearls, and I gave them to ye; and now ye've seen the worth of that kind for yourself. But there's jewels and jewels in the world, and if ye choose, Eily, ye can still speak pearls and diamonds, and no harm to yourself or anybody."

"How was yer Honor maning?" asked Eily, wondering. "Sure, I don't undershtand yer Honor at all."

"Likely not," said the little man, "but it's now I'm telling ye. Every gentle and loving word ye speak, child, is a pearl; and every kind deed done to them as needs kindness, is a diamond brighter than all those shining stones in your ap.r.o.n. Ye'll grow up a rich woman, Eily, with the treasure ye have there; but it might all as well be frogs and toads, if with it ye have not the loving heart and the helping hand that will make a good woman of ye, and happy folk of yer neighbors. And now good-by, mavourneen, and the blessing of the Green Men go with ye and stay with ye, yer life long!"

"Good-by, yer Honor," cried Eily, gratefully. "The saints reward yer Honor's Grace for all yer kindness to a poor silly colleen like me! But, oh, wan minute, yer Honor!" she cried, as she saw the little man about to put on his cap. "Will Docthor O'Shaughnessy be King av Ireland? Sure it's the wicked king he'd make, intirely. Don't let him, plaze, yer Honor!"

Green Jacket laughed long and heartily. "Ho! ho! ho!" he cried. "_King_, is it? Nothing less would suit him, sure enough! Have no fears, Eily, alanna! Dr. O'Shaughnessy has come into his kingdom by this time, and I wish him joy of it."

With these words he clapped his scarlet cap on his head, and vanished like the snuff of a candle.

Now, just about this time Dr. Michael O'Shaughnessy was dismounting from his gig at his own back door, after a long and weary drive. He thought little, however, about his bodily fatigue, for his heart was full of joy and triumph, his mind absorbed in dreams of glory. He could not even contain his thoughts, but broke out into words, as he unharnessed the rusty old pony.

"An' whin I coom to the palace, I'll knock three times wid the knocker; or maybe there'll be a bell, loike the sheriff's house (bad luck to um!) at Kilmagore. And the gossoon'll open the dure, and--

"'Phwhat's yer arrind?' says he.

"'It's Queen Victory I'm wantin',' says I. 'An' ye'll till her King Michael av Ireland is askin' for her,' I says.

"Thin whin Victory hears that, she'll coom roonnin' down hersilf, to bid me welkim; an' she'll take me oop to the best room, an'--

"'Sit down an the throne, King Michael,' says she. 'The other cheers isn't good enough for the loikes of ye,' says she.

"'Afther ye, ma'm,' says I, moinding me manners.

"'An' is there annythin' I can du for ye, to-day, King Michael?' says she, whin we've sat down an the throne.

"An' I says, loight and aisy loike, all as if I didn't care, 'Nothin' in loife, ma'm, I'm obleeged to ye, widout ye'd lind me the loan o' yer Sunday crownd,' says I, 'be way av a patthern,' says I.

"An' says she--"

But at this moment the royal meditations were rudely broken in upon by a wild shriek which resounded from the house. The door was flung violently open, and Mrs. O'Shaughnessy rushed out like a mad woman.

"She's gone!" she cried wildly. "The colleen's gone, an' me niver shtirrin' from her side! Och, wirra, wirra! what'll I do? It must be the witches has taken her clane up chimley."

Dr. O'Shaughnessy stood for a moment transfixed, glaring with speechless rage at the unhappy woman; then rushing suddenly at her, he seized and shook her till her teeth chattered together.

"Ye've been ashlape!" he yelled, beside himself with rage and disappointment. "Ye've fell ashlape, an' laved her shlip out! Sorrow seize ye, ye're always the black bean in me porridge!" Then flinging her from him, he cried, "I don't care! I'll _be_ it! I'll be king wid what's in there now!" and dashed into the house.

He paused before the door of the best room, lately poor Eily's prison, to draw breath and to collect his thoughts. The door was closed, and from within--hark! what was that sound? Something was stirring, surely.

Oh, joy! was his wife mistaken? Waking suddenly from her nap, had she failed to see the girl, who had perhaps been sleeping, too? At all events the jewels were there, in shining heaps on the floor, as he had last seen them, with thousands more covering the floor in every direction,--a king's ransom in half a handful of them. He would be king yet, even if the girl were gone. Cautiously he opened the door and looked in, his eyes glistening, his mouth fairly watering at the thought of all the splendor which would meet his glance.

What did Dr. O'Shaughnessy see? Oh, horror! Oh, dismay, terror, anguish!

What did he see? Captive was there none, yet the room was not empty.

Jewels were there none, yet the floor was covered; covered with living creatures,--toads, snakes, newts, all hideous and unclean reptiles that hop or creep or wriggle. And as the wretched man stared, with open mouth and glaring eye-b.a.l.l.s, oh, horror! they were all hopping, creeping, wriggling towards the open door,--towards him! With a yell beside which his wife's had been a whisper, O'Shaughnessy turned and fled; but after him--through the door, down the pa.s.sage and out of the house--came hopping, creeping, wriggling his myriad pursuers.

Fly, King Michael! stretch your long legs, and run like a hunted hare over hill and dale, over moss and moor. They are close behind you; they are catching at your heels; they come from every side, surrounding you!

Fly, King O'Shaughnessy! but you cannot escape. The Green Men are hunting you, if you could but know it, in sport and in revenge; and three times they will chase you round County Kerry, for thrice three days, till at last they suffer you to drop exhausted in a bog, and vanish from your sight.

And Eily? Eily went home with her ap.r.o.n full of pearls and diamonds, to tell her story again, and this time to be believed. And she grew up a good woman and a rich woman; and she married the young Count of Kilmoggan, and spoke diamonds and pearls all her life long,--at least her husband said she did, and he ought to know.

CHAPTER XIV.

"EGGS! eggs!" cried Toto, springing lightly into the barn, and waving a basket round his head. "Mrs. Speckle, Mrs. Spanish, Dame Clucket, where are you all? I want all the fresh eggs you can spare, please!

directly-now-this-very-moment!" and the boy tossed his basket up in the air and caught it again, and danced a little dance of pure enjoyment, while he waited for the hens to answer his summons.

Mrs. Speckle and Dame Clucket, who had been having a quiet chat together in the mow, peeped cautiously over the billows of hay, and seeing that Toto was alone, bade him good-morning.

"I don't know about eggs, to-day, Toto!" said Dame Clucket. "I want to set soon, and I cannot be giving you eggs every day."

"Oh, but I haven't had any for two or three days!" cried Toto. "And I _must_ have some to-day. Good old Clucket, dear old Cluckety, give me some, please!"

"Well, I never can refuse that boy, somehow!" said Dame Clucket, half to herself; and Mrs. Speckle agreed with her that it could not be done.

Indeed, it would have been hard to say "No!" to Toto at that moment, for he certainly was very pleasant to look at. The dusty sunbeams came slanting through the high windows, and fell on his curly head, his ruddy-brown cheeks, and honest gray eyes; and as the eyes danced, and the curls danced, and the whole boy danced with the dancing sunbeams, why, what could two soft-hearted old hens do but meekly lead the way to where their cherished eggs lay, warm and white, in their fragrant nests of hay?

"And what is to be done with them?" asked Mrs. Speckle, as the last egg disappeared into the basket.

"Why, don't you know?" cried the boy. "We are going to have a party to-night,--a real party! Mr. Baldhead is coming, and Jim Crow, and Ger-Falcon. And Granny and Bruin are making all sorts of good things,--I'll bring you out some, if I can, dear old Speckly,--and these eggs are for a custard, don't you see?"

"I see!" said Mrs. Speckle, rather ruefully.

"And c.o.o.n and I are decorating the kitchen," continued he; "and Cracker is cracking the nuts and polishing the apples; and Pigeon Pretty and Miss Mary are dusting the ornaments,--so you see we are all very busy indeed. Ho! ho! what fun it will be! Good-by, Mrs. Speckle! good-by, Cluckety!" and off ran boy Toto, with his basket of eggs, leaving the two old hens to scratch about in the hay, clucking rather sadly over the memories of their own chickenhood, when they, too, went to parties, instead of laying eggs for other people's festivities.

In the cottage, what a bustle was going on! The grandmother was at her pastry-board, rolling out paste, measuring and filling and covering, as quickly and deftly as if she had had two pairs of eyes instead of none at all. The bear, enveloped in a huge blue-checked ap.r.o.n, sat with a large mortar between his knees, pounding away at something as if his life depended on it. On the hearth sat the squirrel, cracking nuts and piling them up in pretty blue china dishes; and the two birds were carefully brushing and dusting, each with a pair of dusters which she always carried about with her,--one pair gray, and the other soft brown.

As for Toto and the racc.o.o.n, they were here, there, and everywhere, all in a moment.

"Now, then, where are those greens?" called the boy, when he had carefully deposited his basket of eggs in the pantry.