The King of the Golden River | Page 6

the consequences. Gluck went to the window,
opened it, and put his head out to see who it was.
It was the most extraordinary-looking little gentleman he had ever seen
in his life. He had a very large nose, slightly brass- colored; his cheeks
were very round and very red, and might have warranted a supposition
that he had been blowing a refractory fire for the last eight-and-forty
hours; his eyes twinkled merrily through long, silky eyelashes; his
mustaches curled twice round like a corkscrew on each side of his
mouth; and his hair, of a curious mixed pepper-and-salt color,
descended far over his shoulders. He was about four feet six in height
and wore a conical pointed cap of nearly the same altitude, decorated
with a black feather some three feet long. His doublet was prolonged
behind into something resembling a violent exaggeration of what is
now termed a "swallowtail," but was much obscured by the swelling
folds of an enormous black, glossy-looking cloak, which must have
been very much too long in calm weather, as the wind, whistling round
the old house, carried it clear out from the wearer's shoulders to about
four times his own length.
Gluck was so perfectly paralyzed by the singular appearance of his
visitor that he remained fixed without uttering a word, until the old
gentleman, having performed another and a more energetic concerto on
the knocker, turned round to look after his flyaway cloak. In so doing
he caught sight of Gluck's little yellow head jammed in the window,
with its mouth and eyes very wide open indeed.
"Hollo!" said the little gentleman; "that's not the way to answer the
door. I'm wet; let me in."

To do the little gentleman justice, he WAS wet. His feather hung down
between his legs like a beaten puppy's tail, dripping like an umbrella,
and from the ends of his mustaches the water was running into his
waistcoat pockets and out again like a mill stream.
"I beg pardon, sir," said Gluck, "I'm very sorry, but, I really can't."
"Can't what?" said the old gentleman.
"I can't let you in, sir--I can't, indeed; my brothers would beat me to
death, sir, if I thought of such a thing. What do you want, sir?"
"Want?" said the old gentleman petulantly. "I want fire and shelter, and
there's your great fire there blazing, crackling, and dancing on the walls
with nobody to feel it. Let me in, I say; I only want to warm myself."
Gluck had had his head, by this time, so long out of the window that he
began to feel it was really unpleasantly cold, and when he turned and
saw the beautiful fire rustling and roaring and throwing long, bright
tongues up the chimney, as if it were licking its chops at the savory
smell of the leg of mutton, his heart melted within him that it should be
burning away for nothing. "He does look very wet," said little Gluck;
"I'll just let him in for a quarter of an hour." Round he went to the door
and opened it; and as the little gentleman walked in, there came a gust
of wind through the house that made the old chimneys totter.
"That's a good boy," said the little gentleman. "Never mind your
brothers. I'll talk to them."
"Pray, sir, don't do any such thing," said Gluck. "I can't let you stay till
they come; they'd be the death of me."
"Dear me," said the old gentleman, "I'm very sorry to hear that. How
long may I stay?"
"Only till the mutton's done, sir," replied Gluck, "and it's very brown."
Then the old gentleman walked into the kitchen and sat himself down

on the hob, with the top of his cap accommodated up the chimney, for
it was a great deal too high for the roof.
"You'll soon dry there, sir," said Gluck, and sat down again to turn the
mutton. But the old gentleman did NOT dry there, but went on drip,
drip, dripping among the cinders, and the fire fizzed and sputtered and
began to look very black and uncomfortable. Never was such a cloak;
every fold in it ran like a gutter.
"I beg pardon, sir," said Gluck at length, after watching the water
spreading in long, quicksilver-like streams over the floor for a quarter
of an hour; "mayn't I take your cloak?"
"No, thank you," said the old gentleman.
"Your cap, sir?"
"I am all right, thank you," said the old gentleman rather gruffly.
"But--sir--I'm very sorry," said Gluck hesitatingly, "but-- really,
sir--you're--putting the fire out."
"It'll take longer to do the mutton, then," replied his visitor dryly.
Gluck was very much puzzled by the behavior of his guest; it was such
a strange mixture of coolness and humility.