Арчибальд Кронин - Hatter's Castle

"Oh! Denis, I've been so miserable here without you! I felt as if I had lost you for ever."

He looked at her tenderly, as he replied:

"I was a fool to ask you to meet me here in all this crowd, Mary. I knew I would find you, but I quite forgot that you might get into the crush before then. My train was late too. Have you been here long?"

"I don't know how long," she murmured. "It seemed like years, but I don't care now that you're here."

"I hope you didn't get pushed about in the crowd," he protested. "I blame myself for letting you come on by yourself. Indeed I do! I should have met you outside, but I hadn't an idea there would be so many here to-night. You're not annoyed?"

She shook her head negatively; and without concealing her delight in him, without upbraiding him for his tardiness or permitting him to see the risk she had taken in coming to meet him here, replied guilelessly, happily:

"It's all right, Denis. I don't mind the crowd nothing matters now that you've found me."

"What a girl you are, Mary," he cried. "It's an angel you are to forgive me. But I'll not rest till I've made it up to you. Let's make up for lost time. I'll not be happy till I've given you the time of your life. What shall we do first? Say the word and it's as good as done."

Mary looked around. How changed everything was! How glad she was to have come! She saw that the people around were not rough but merely boisterous and happy, and had she now been confronted with the heavy-footed ploughboy she would have returned his rustic grin with an understanding smile. She saw everywhere

colour, excitement and movement; the shouts of the showmen animated her, the cracking of shots in the shooting gallery thrilled without daunting her; the blare of music around intoxicated her, and as her sparkling eye was drawn by a ring of hobby horses gaily circling, prancing, gambolling to the tune of the Kandahar Waltz, she laughed excitedly and pointed to them.

"These," she gasped.

"Sure!" cried Denis. "Your word is law, Mary! We'll kick off on the leppers. All aboard for the Donegal Hunt." He grasped her arm, leading her forward, while magically the crowd, which had so oppressed her, seemed to melt before them.

"Here we are," he exclaimed gaily. "Two together, with tails like lions and teeth like dromedaries. Up you go, Mary! Yours will jump the side of a house by the wicked look in his eye."

They were seated on the horses, grasping the reins, waiting, circling at first slowly, then quickly, then whirling to the mad music, thrilled with the joy of movement, tearing around above the gaping, unmounted commoners who seemed far below the flying hoofs of their prancing chargers, chasing together through wide celestial spaces, soaring upwards in a spirited nobility of movement. When at last they slowly came to rest, he refused to allow her to dismount, but compelled her willing presence beside him for another, and another and still another turn, until, as her experience grew, and her confidence in the saddle increased, she relaxed the tenseness of her grip upon the reins and directing her mount by the light touch of one hand, relaxed her body to its curvetting movement and exhibited proudly to him the address and dexterity of her horsemanship. He praised her, encouraged her, revelling in her enjoyment, until at length Mary's conscience pricked her and, feeling that he would be ruined through her prodigal rashness, she implored him to come off. He laughed till his sides shook.

"We could stay on all night if you wanted to! It's nothing at all if you're happy."

"Oh, yes, it is, Denis! It's an awful expense. Do let us get down,” she begged. "I'm just as happy watching!"

"All right, then! Well get off to please you, Mary; but we're only beginning. To-night it's a millionaire you're with. We're goin through the whole bag of tricks."

"If you're sure you can afford it, Denis," replied Mary doubtfully. "It's simply wonderful here! But I don't want you to spend too much on me."

"Sure I couldn't spend enough on you, Mary," he replied warmly, "if I spent every farthing I've got!"

That was the raising of the curtain; and now they plunged into the throng, feasting their eyes upon the panorama of gaiety and absorbing the merriment around them eagerly, joyously, and together.

An hour later, having experienced every variety of movement offered for their delectation, thrown balls at all conceivable objects from coconuts to Sallies, seen the flea-bitten lions and the apathetic elephant, prodded the fat boy at the earnest request of the showman to ensure there being no deception, admired the smallest woman in the world, shuddered appreciatively at the living skeleton, and purchased every edible commodity from honey pears to cough candy, they stood, the most joyously animated couple in the whole show ground, before the biggest tent in the fair. It was the famous Mclnally's, which provided, as its posters indicated, a feast of refined and elegant entertainment. In front of the tent was a wooden platform now illuminated by four naphtha flares, and upon the centre of this stage stood the famous Mclnally himself, easily distinguishable by his glossy top hat and flowing frock coat, by his largely checked trousers and the enormous brass Albert that stretched, yellow as gold and thick as a mayoral chain, across his whitish velvet waist- coat. On either side of him stood, to quote again from the red and blue lettered advance notices that plastered the walls and gateposts of the countryside, a coruscating galaxy of talent. On his right a tall, soulful gentleman in full but musty evening dress leant with a melancholy grace against a pole of the marquee, directing his romantic gaze upwards from the mob as though he sought upon an ethereal balcony some Juliet who might be worthy of him, and concealing as best he might the soiled condition of his linen by elongating his coat sleeves and folding his arms manfully across his shirt front. But this sombre Romeo did not constitute the sole attraction of the show, for at the other end of the stage on Mclnally's left, was poised a bewitching creature clad in pink tights and white ballet skirt, with a peaked yachting cap set at a rakish angle upon her head, executing

from time to time a few mincing steps hinting at the promise of more ravishing movements to come, and throwing kisses to the multitude below with an airy, graceful action of her arms that suggested she was drawing yards of streamers from her lips.

"Isn't she lovely?" whispered Mary, who by this time had drawn so close to her companion that she had taken his arm.

"If you saw her in daylight you would be surprised," replied the more sophisticated Denis. "I've been told something about her. As a matter of report," he continued slowly, as though liberating a baleful secret, "they say she squints."

"Oh! Denis! How can you say such a thing!" cried Mary indignantly. But she gazed doubtfully at the suggestive angle of the yachting cap. Was it merely saucy or was its purpose more profoundly significant?

"Walk up, ladies and gentlemen, walk up!" shouted Mclnally, removing his hat with a flourish and holding it extended in a courtly gesture of invitation. "The Performance is going to begin. We are just about to commence. Positively the last Performance of the evening. An entertainment of the highest class, admission twopence and twopence only. Artistic, refined and elegant Gentlemen, you may bring your wives and sweethearts, an entertainment without a blush. The one and only Mclnally, positively of the highest class and one class only. Just about to begin! Gentlemen! On my left Madame Bolita in the most wonderful and artistic Terpsichorean exhibition of the century." At the mention of her name Madame pirouetted lightly, smiled coyly, extended her wrists coquettishly and

drew out fresh streamers, which were, if anything, more tenacious than before.