Thomasina - The Cat Who Thought She Was God Read Online Free PDF Page B

watched, a young roe deer, a buck, suddenly appeared out of the underbrush, head up and alert, the sun shining from its moist black nose and liquid eyes. It moved warily, tossing its fine head, its eyes fixed upon the house, where the front door was slowly opening and with infinite caution.
    Geordie McNabb’s heart beat furiously and he came close to giving way to panic and running for all he was worth. But his curiosity to see the Red Witch of Glen Ardrath, now that he had come this far and dared so much, and his need to find out what was to become of his frog, kept him there.
    The door opened wide, but no Red Witch appeared, almost to Geordie McNabb’s disappointment; only a young woman, hardly more than a girl, it seemed to Geordie, a plain girl, a country girl, such as you could see anywhere on the farms surrounding Inveranoch, in simple skirt and smock with thick stockings and shoes, and a shawl around her shoulders.
    She could not have been a witch, for she was neither beautiful nor hideous, and yet little Geordie found that he could not seem to take his eyes from her countenance. What was it that drew and held his gaze? He could not tell. Her nose was long and wise, and the space between it and her upper lip seemed wide and humorous so that somehow it made you want to smile looking at it. The mouth was both tender and rueful and in the gray-green eyes there was a faraway look. Her hair, which hung loose to her shoulders in the fashion of country girls, was not bound and was the cherry color of a glowing blacksmith’s bar before he begins to beat it.
    She looked out of the door, brushing away a lock of the dark red hair from her forehead and the gesture, too, was of one who also is clearing away cobwebs from the mind. Geordie lay there on his belly, hidden by the ferns, loving her suddenly with all his heart, and he did not know why nor did he think of any spell cast upon him but only that she was there and he loved her.
    The girl looked about her for a moment and then, to Geordie’s surprise, gave a high, clear call on two notes. For a moment Geordie thought that the silver bell was still ringing, so clear and piercing was the call, but the sides of the metal had long ceased vibrating and it was only her throat that produced the marvelous sound.
    It acted upon the buck, who came stepping nimbly out of the woods and walked slowly across half the clearing as she stood contemplating the animal out of her faraway eyes, with the rueful smile at her lips. The deer stopped and lowered its head and stood there gazing up at her mischievously and playfully so that she burst into laughter and cried, “Was it you then, at the bell again. For that ye’ll wait for your supper—”
    But the buck, as though suddenly alarmed, or sensing the presence of another, turned and bounded away into the forest. The cats came sedately forward, walking almost in tandem, and began to weave in and out her feet. But the Scottie dog ran to the box containing the frog and began to sniff it, thus calling her attention to its presence.
    She crossed the threshold then and Geordie watched her run to the box with quick, little steps that had in them something of the movements of the deer. She knelt, her hands folded in her lap for an instant, and peered into the box. Then she reached out and removed the weary, injured, palpitating, little reptile.
    She held it gently in her hand and the broken leg spilled from the side of it and hung limp. Carefully she probed it with a finger and looked into the beady yellow-green eyes of the frog, and the odd space between her nose and upper lip twitched most movingly as she lifted the frog and held it to her cheek for an instant while she said, “Was it the angels or the Little Folk who brought ye here to me? Puir wee frog. I will do what I can for you.” Then she arose and disappeared into the house, shutting the door after her.
    The cottage slept again, its eyes tightly shut. The two cats and the dog retired