Gobbolino the Witch's Cat

“It is a witch’s cat!” shouted the baron.

“The serving maid betrayed me!” cried the knight.

“It will cast a spell on us all!” said the baron.

“I claim your hand, my lady!” said the knight, at which the baron drew his sword and they fell upon each other.

At that moment a bugle call sounded through the forest, and a white horse and rider came galloping across the ford.

The Lady Alice, who had been wringing her hands, gave one look from her window and tears of joy sprang into her eyes.

“It is he! It is my lord himself!” she cried and darted to the stairs.

The little maid followed her, jumped over the dragon’s coils and ran sobbing towards her home at the edge of the forest, but Lady Alice ran to meet her young lover, who lifted her into his arms, placed her gently before him on the saddle, wheeled his horse round, and galloped back through the ford again with one last bugle call of triumph.

Gobbolino, halfway down the stairs, saw them disappear in a cloud of dust, and his heart was happy for them.

He watched the pink frock of the little serving maid vanishing among the trees, and wished her well too, as she departed.

Upstairs the knight and the baron were still fighting when a rumbling as of an earthquake shook the tower.

The dragon was beginning to wake up.

The tower began to rock as he slowly uncoiled himself, and to totter as he stretched his claws one by one.

Then with a tremendous gape he opened his mouth and roared, and the bricks came tumbling down.

Stones, parapets, stairs, collapsed on top of one another, and Gobbolino had barely time to leap clear himself when the whole tower crashed about his heels, bringing down the baron and the knight, still whirling their swords, among the ruins.

By the time they had picked themselves up, the dragon was crawling away to some peaceful cavern of his own in the forest.

Gobbolino decided to leave the place too, so he trotted quietly into the shadow of the trees and disappeared.

14

Gobbolino the Woodcutter

Night fell, and the loneliness of the forest fell on Gobbolino.

He was an easily pleased and independent little cat, but company meant a great deal to him. He did not ask for much, only the murmur of friendly voices about him, the click of a knitting-needle, the bubble of a kettle, or the hiss of a cooking-pot.

Here, deep in the forest, the trees sighed as if they too missed the companionship of human beings, and Gobbolino, treading its gloomy ways, looked eagerly for the sign of some cottage or farmhouse, where the candlelight, shining through the windowpanes, might bid him welcome.

So it was with the greatest pleasure in the world that he saw, walking along the path in front of him, an aged woodcutter, quite bowed beneath a load of wood.

Gobbolino did not say a word as he joined him, but trotted silently at the woodcutter’s heels, while a great peace came upon his heart, and the night fell softly around them.

The moon had risen when at last Gobbolino and the old man reached a tiny cottage, and not until he had thrown down his bundle of sticks on the doorstep did the woodcutter notice Gobbolino.

“Well! Well! Well!” exclaimed the woodcutter. “This is a surprise to be sure. And where did you come from, my pretty little cat?”

“I was just walking through the forest, master,” Gobbolino explained. “The way was so long and so lonely, I was glad enough to fall in behind you. I hope you do not object.”

“Well, you are perfectly right, the forest is very lonely,” agreed the woodcutter, nodding his head. “Even an old man like me feels the need of company sometimes. My granddaughter is gone away, and I live all alone. What do you say to a place on my hearth and a saucer of milk in my kitchen? I can think of worse homes for a cat than mine!”

“Oh, master, master!” said Gobbolino, almost crying in his thankfulness and joy. “How can I thank you? Can it possibly be true that I have found a home at last – Gobbolino the woodcutter’s cat?”

“Come in and see your new home, my little friend,” said the woodcutter, opening the door, and Gobbolino trotted in at his heels.

What was his surprise to see a pink frock sitting on the hearth and above it the rosy cheeks and blue eyes of the little serving maid Gobbolino had last seen running through the forest!

“Granddaughter!” exclaimed the woodcutter in great astonishment. “What has happened? What are you doing here? Have you been dismissed?”

“Oh, no! No! No!” sobbed the little serving maid, beginning to cry bitterly.

“Such terrible things happened, Grandfather, as you cannot imagine! The knights fought, the dragon roared, the tower fell down, and my Lady Alice rode away on a white horse! I was so frightened I jumped over the dragon and ran away. I have been running through the forest all day long to find you, Grandfather!”