The Cuckoo Tree Read Free Page A

everywhere, higgledy-piggledy—on the chests, the floor, the chairs, and on a curious little round table which looked as if it had been carved with a toothpick from the trunk of a tree. It was rather a nasty little table, Dido thought, looking at it more closely—the top and bottom were solid disks of wood, connected by a crisscross wooden network; at every join a little wooden face grinned maliciously with white-painted teeth and eyes. The room was a large one and the farther end was almost in darkness, but Dido had an uneasy feeling that somebody was there in the shadows watching—occasionally the corner of her eye caught a movement. Perhaps it was another dog?
    "Tell about the carriage accident," Sir Tobit demanded. "What happened? Were you waylaid? Was there a fight?"
    "No, no, it was just an accident—nothing out o' the common."
    "But how did it come about?"
    "Land sakes, hain't you never seen a carriage turn topsy-turvy? The driver was a bit tossicated, that's all; I
reckon he runned one o' the wheels against the bank. So over we went. And Cap'n Hughes was stuck inside. I managed to scramble out."
    "Where did it happen?" Sir Tobit was asking, when the door was opened by Gusset the butler and a lady swept into the room.
    Although Lady Tegleaze was plainly very old, her age was not her most striking feature. What most impressed Dido about her was a feeling of
queerness
—as if her very bright eyes were set most of the time on things that nobody else could see, as if she were listening to sounds or voices that nobody else could catch. Like her grandson, she was tall and thin, she limped slightly and walked with a stick, she wore what must surely be a wig of flowing gray curls, and had carelessly flung around her a lavender-colored satin overdress, trimmed with point lace. It was faded and slightly torn. As she came in, Dido heard a door close softly in the shadows at the far end of the room.
    "Not so close!" Lady Tegleaze exclaimed, limping swiftly toward Dido and tapping her with the stick. "Not so close to Sir Tobit—remove yourself, pray!"
    The dog Lion growled softly to himself.
    Rather taken aback, Dido scrambled to her feet and stepped back, ducking her head in a mixture between a bow and a curtsy. What in tarnation does the old girl think I'm a-going to do—
bite
him? she wondered, but the very oddness of Lady Tegleaze commanded respect.
    "Now then," she continued, fixing Dido with those curiously bright, curiously distant eyes, "what is all this
about? Who is this young person? Why is she here and where is Lady Rowena Palindrome?"
    "Please, your ladyship, the young lady is Miss Twido Dite; and Frill just gave me this; he said a messenger brought it not ten minutes since." The butler handed Lady Tegleaze a note.
    "Humph," she said, unfolding and reading it: "From the duchess—too late—too far—too rainy for the horses—cried off. Pish! When I was a gel horses were horses and could stand a bit of rain."
    "They always cry off," Sir Tobit languidly observed. "No one wishes to come here. Why should they? You won't let
me
go to
them.
"
    "So who are you?" The old lady's gaze returned to Dido. Absently she took a handful of nuts from the dish and munched them.
    "She had an accident to her carriage," Sir Tobit explained. "On the London road. There are two hurt men and she wants our help to fetch them. One of them's a sea captain, carrying dispatches."
    "A sea captain? You have come off a ship?"
    "Yes, ma'am."
    "From what country? What ship?"
    "A navy ship, ma'am, the
Thrush;
she was a-coming home from the China wars and stepped from her course to chase a Hanoverian schooner, and picked me up off'n the isle of Nantucket."
    "
China! Nantucket!
" Lady Tegleaze could not have been more horrified if Dido had said Devil's Island. "And you
come here—from such places—reeking of typhus, yellow fever, and every kind of infection! Pray stand over by the door!"
    "I don't wish to stand anywhere, ma'am, if you'll only