each, and looking down with them into the manger. There was a new Baby in the manger, sound asleep; and as Pan gazed at Him, he knew that the grey shepherd had spoken truth, and this was the little King, and He was greater than Pan.
Pan squatted down on his hairy haunches, and leaned forward to gaze and gaze. All his heart went out to the little King, so that it hurt him inside, as he had never been hurt before, and yet he had never been so happy. Suddenly the Baby awoke, and lay looking up into the brown face, with the surprised, kitten-blue eyes that most very young things have. Then He smiled a small pleased smile, and made a small pleased kicking and waving with His legs and arms, and poked Pan’s cheek with a tiny, crumpled fist.
There was a sudden sharp pain in Pan’s breast and a sudden whimpering deep inside him, and he longed to weep, but he did not know why, for he was happy – so happy, that it was like the kindling of a light in a dark place. He put out one long, brown forefinger, and touched the little King very, very gently on one cheek in return. Then he got up and turned to go; but before he went, he laid his reed pipe among the gifts that the shepherds had left. ‘He has a loaf for food, and a cloak for warmth, and the tool of a trade,’ said Pan. ‘And I will leave Him the gift ofmusic, that is of the Spirit.’ And he passed out from the stable into the chill of the dawn.
The dog went with him as far as the door, and licked his hand with a warm, loving tongue, to comfort him, and then padded back to the manger. And Pan went out alone.
Mary found the Pan-pipes among the gifts that the shepherds had left, when she awoke, and at first people guessed who had left it there; but as time went on, people forgot Pan, or rather they forgot that he was not just a legend, and they said, ‘It must have been a shepherd boy, who left the gift of music for the little King.’
For a while nobody said anything at all, and then Nicky asked, ‘Was that what you meant just now, about Christmas being a special time for animals?’
‘Maybe,’ said Jonathan.
And Hugh asked, ‘What happened to Pan?’
‘Who knows?’ said Jonathan. ‘Perhaps the animals do, but they wouldn’t tell us if they could.’
7
Argos
Next morning the Players turned out in a body before it was even light, to look for Argos, leaving word with the stable-hands to hold him if he should appear while they were away. They searched the country round for hours, calling and whistling, asking everybody they met, ‘Have you seen a dog? A black-and-brown dog – very big?’ But nobody had; and at last the time came when they must give up the search for a while, and go back to the Fountain to get ready for the afternoon’s performance, because they had promised the good folk of Canterbury that they would enact the Life of St Nicholas that afternoon, and the show must go on.
They cut rehearsals that evening, and spent the time searching again over the country they had already searched in the morning, and next day they returned to the search yet again, but they had no better fortune than before.
It was Christmas Eve, and everybody seemed blithe and happy, hurrying here and there about their preparations for tomorrow’s merry-makings. The wind had blown the last of the clouds away, and the weather had turned clear and frosty, and all the narrow streets of Canterbury were full of people carrying home great bundles of holly and ivy, bays and mistletoe and rosemary for the decking of their houses. But the little band of Players, grimly searching ditch and meadow and spinney which they hadsearched so many times before, did not feel Christmassy in the least, for they had all grown very fond of Argos.
Hugh would not go with anyone, not even with Jonathan; he went alone, searching in the same places over and over again, with his face very white and his eyes very black and his curly mouth straight and hard: calling and calling. But he didn’t find
Pan squatted down on his hairy haunches, and leaned forward to gaze and gaze. All his heart went out to the little King, so that it hurt him inside, as he had never been hurt before, and yet he had never been so happy. Suddenly the Baby awoke, and lay looking up into the brown face, with the surprised, kitten-blue eyes that most very young things have. Then He smiled a small pleased smile, and made a small pleased kicking and waving with His legs and arms, and poked Pan’s cheek with a tiny, crumpled fist.
There was a sudden sharp pain in Pan’s breast and a sudden whimpering deep inside him, and he longed to weep, but he did not know why, for he was happy – so happy, that it was like the kindling of a light in a dark place. He put out one long, brown forefinger, and touched the little King very, very gently on one cheek in return. Then he got up and turned to go; but before he went, he laid his reed pipe among the gifts that the shepherds had left. ‘He has a loaf for food, and a cloak for warmth, and the tool of a trade,’ said Pan. ‘And I will leave Him the gift ofmusic, that is of the Spirit.’ And he passed out from the stable into the chill of the dawn.
The dog went with him as far as the door, and licked his hand with a warm, loving tongue, to comfort him, and then padded back to the manger. And Pan went out alone.
Mary found the Pan-pipes among the gifts that the shepherds had left, when she awoke, and at first people guessed who had left it there; but as time went on, people forgot Pan, or rather they forgot that he was not just a legend, and they said, ‘It must have been a shepherd boy, who left the gift of music for the little King.’
For a while nobody said anything at all, and then Nicky asked, ‘Was that what you meant just now, about Christmas being a special time for animals?’
‘Maybe,’ said Jonathan.
And Hugh asked, ‘What happened to Pan?’
‘Who knows?’ said Jonathan. ‘Perhaps the animals do, but they wouldn’t tell us if they could.’
7
Argos
Next morning the Players turned out in a body before it was even light, to look for Argos, leaving word with the stable-hands to hold him if he should appear while they were away. They searched the country round for hours, calling and whistling, asking everybody they met, ‘Have you seen a dog? A black-and-brown dog – very big?’ But nobody had; and at last the time came when they must give up the search for a while, and go back to the Fountain to get ready for the afternoon’s performance, because they had promised the good folk of Canterbury that they would enact the Life of St Nicholas that afternoon, and the show must go on.
They cut rehearsals that evening, and spent the time searching again over the country they had already searched in the morning, and next day they returned to the search yet again, but they had no better fortune than before.
It was Christmas Eve, and everybody seemed blithe and happy, hurrying here and there about their preparations for tomorrow’s merry-makings. The wind had blown the last of the clouds away, and the weather had turned clear and frosty, and all the narrow streets of Canterbury were full of people carrying home great bundles of holly and ivy, bays and mistletoe and rosemary for the decking of their houses. But the little band of Players, grimly searching ditch and meadow and spinney which they hadsearched so many times before, did not feel Christmassy in the least, for they had all grown very fond of Argos.
Hugh would not go with anyone, not even with Jonathan; he went alone, searching in the same places over and over again, with his face very white and his eyes very black and his curly mouth straight and hard: calling and calling. But he didn’t find
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