HANS KROUT seemed almost afraid of David for a while after that. He would not speak to the little boy on the street, and even when David came to the cobbler-shop he would not play his fiddle. Neither would he tell David the story of the Princess in the Glass Hill with three lions at the door, and the Prince with the red band around his wrist. Once he had promised to tell the story, but now he would not. He just stitched and rapped and cobbled at his shoes as though he had wits for nothing else.
"Are you angry with me, Hans?" said David.
"I am not," said Hans.
"What is it, then" said David.
"It is nothing," said Hans.
"But will you not tell me the story?" said David.
"I will not," said Hans.
"Why not" said David.
"Because the Master Cobbler has stopped up my wits with shoe-maker's wax," said Hans.
"Who is the Master Cobbler?" said David.
"No matter," said Hans.
David sat for a long time looking at Hans. "Will you show me the moon-path again some time?" said he, after a while.
"I do not know," said Hans Krout, without looking up, "that depends."
"Depends upon what?" said David.
"Depends upon the Master Cobbler," said Hans.
So all that month Hans Krout was dull and silent and stupid, and would hardly speak to David. He would not even look at the baby, and so David had to go off by himself to find amusement elsewhere.
There was a place down by the sea-shore where he always went at such times; he called it his sea-house. There was a little sandy, gravelly floor, with the rocks all around it. There was a pool of water full of sea-weed, and strange things that were alive--sea-anemones and crabs and shell-fish. Everything smelt salt, and out beyond you could see the sea, with the sun shining and sparkling and dancing on the waves. That was where David used to go by himself with the baby to be alone.
It was there that he first saw the Moon-Angel.
This is how it was: the baby had been fretting and crying, and David's mother was very cross, for she had been sitting up the night before with poor little Barbara Stout, who was very sick, so that Barbara's mother might get a little wink of sleep. So David took the baby to make her quiet, and as soon as he had done so, she stuck her thumb in her mouth and stopped crying. The sun was shining warm and bright, and David took the baby down to his sea-house. The wind was blowing, and he sat looking out across the sea and at the big waves that rose and fell as though the water were breathing long and deep,--the big waves that soughed and sighed among the rocks as though the sea were murmuring in its sleep. All over the bosom of the waves there were little wavelets that leaped and skipped, and winked and twinkled as the breeze came chasing them. The sea-gulls hovered and skimmed overhead, looking down at David and laughing "ha-ha-ha" in the sunlight.
So there David sat and looked out across the wide, bright, deep, breathing water and the dancing little waves, and the baby lay with her thumb in her mouth, staring up into the blue sky.
Then he saw the Moon-Angel for the first time.
"Why not try the moon-path to-night?" said a voice behind David. David turned his head quickly, and the baby turned her head also, for she heard the voice as well as David.
David thought at first it was Hans Krout, the cobbler, but it was not. It was the Moon-Angel.
David knew who it was as soon as he set eyes on him, for David was of that kind who can see more through the square hole of a millstone than t' other side of it, and so he knew it was the Moon-Angel as soon as he set eyes on him. The Moon-Angel's face shone as white as silver, and his hair floated out like a bright cloud around the moon. He had on a long, dim, silver-white robe that reached to his bare feet, and though the robe was perfectly plain and dim silver-white, yet it sparkled all over with little stars, just as the dim silver-white gray sky sparkles here and there with stars when the moon is full.
That is what David saw.
To most people the Moon-Angel appears terrible. For there are few folk, unless it is a moon-calf like David, who can see him in his true shape, with his face shining brightly, and his hair flowing, and his dim silver-white robe sparkling with stars.
David took off his hat, and the baby laughed without taking her finger out of her mouth. "I would like to try again," said he; "I did try once, but I couldn't do it."
"Why? " said the Moon-Angel, and he smiled till his face shone white like the moon.
"I got frightened and fell into the water," said David.
"But you shouldn't have been frightened," said the Moon-Angel.
"But I couldn't help it," said David.
"And what did Hans Krout do then'?" asked the Moon-Angel.
"He went home," said David, "and he 's never said a word about the moon-path from that day to this."
Again the Moon-Angel smiled, and his face shone brighter than ever. "Well," said he, "Hans Krout is a very good man and a great friend of mine. He can show you the way, and there is no man about here who can show you the way. Go to him and tell him that he is to show you the way to walk on the moon-path to-night."
"Who shall I tell him sent me?" said David.
"Tell him the Master Cobbler sent you," said the Moon-Angel.
"Oh, yes," said David, "now I know whom he meant by the Master Cobbler."
"Yes," said the Moon-Angel, "that is right. Well, then, maybe I will see you after a while. Just now I am very busy. Good-by."
David still looked at the Moon-Angel. The Moon-Angel glimmered and glimmered and faded and was gone, and where he had been was nothing but the sky and the rocks. David almost wondered whether he had seen the Angel or not whether what he had seen was really the Angel's face or just the bright sky shining between the rocks.
Afterwards he knew well enough he had really seen the Moon-Angel, for it was just after this that little Barbara Stout's mother began crying and clapping her hands together, and that the neighbors came in and found that the little sick girl had died.
But David knew nothing of that. He got up and, carrying the baby, went off to Hans Krout and told him what he had seen and what the Moon-Angel had said to him. "Yes," said Hans Krout, "that was His Serene Highness, the Master Cobbler, for sure and certain. Well, well, since he says so, I will take you down to the moonpath to-night, and we will try it again."
"And what do you suppose the Moon-Angel was doing about here'?" said David.
"He came to take the little sick Barbara away to the moon-garden," said Hans Krout. Then he took down his fiddle and began to play for the first time in a month, and David sat and listened, and the baby went to sleep.
That night Hans Krout led David down to the moon-path again, for it was the day after the full moon. They went off together just as they had done before; out of the village and along the stony path among the boulders, until they came to the same place where they had been before--the flat rock against which the waves came in from the wide sea beyond. Again they sat there waiting and waiting while the sky grew from rosy to gray, and from gray to purple, and from purple to dusk; until the moon rose as yellow as honey over the edge of the ocean; until it floated like a bubble up into the sky--then there was the moon-path just as it had been before.
"Now, then," said Hans Krout, "there comes a good bar of light on the top of yonder wave. Remember the Moon-Angel--quick!--step out like a soldier. There you are--now, then!"
David did think of the Moon-Angel, and he stepped upon the wave almost without knowing what he was doing. This time he was not afraid, and the next moment there he was standing upon the bar of light. It seemed to slip and slide under his feet as though it were alive. He nearly fell, but he did not remember to be afraid. Another wave came with another twisting, wriggling bar of light upon the top of it. David stepped upon it just in time to save himself from falling. Then another wave came, and he stepped upon it; then another and another wave. Each broken piece of light was closer and closer to him than the one he had left, and almost before he knew it he found himself running across what was no longer broken bars of light but what seemed to him to be shifting, changing gravel of shining gold.
He looked up; the moon had not risen any further out of the water. There it hung, almost round and almost full, just above the edge of the horizon--a great bubble of brightness. Now then David was away even from the gravel, and he found himself runhlilig across what seemed to be a great field of light covered all over with soft sparkles of silver grass. Everything shimmered, and quivered, and glistened around him, and he felt the light rise up against his eyes and his face. The breeze blew through his hair. He felt so happy, he did not know what to do. He skipped and capered just as a little lamb skips and capers on the grass. It seemed to David as though the moon was coming towards him; it appeared to grow bigger and bigger--he was really getting closer and closer to the moon. It was no longer like a bubble; it was like a great round globe of light. Then, almost before he knew, he was at the edge of the horizon, with nothing beyond him but emptiness. And there was the great moon rising above him as big as a church.
David stood quite still and looked up at it. Click-clack! What was that? Suddenly a halfdoor opened and there stood a little old man, as gray as the evening, with long white hair and queer clothes, and a face covered all over with cobwebs of silver wrinkles. It was the Man-in-the-moon, and he was smoking a long pipe of tobacco.
'How do you do, David?" said he. "Will you come in?"
"Why, yes", said David, "I would like to."
"That is good," said the Man-in-the-moon, and he opened the other half of the door. "Now! Give me your hand."
The Man-in-the-moon reached down to David, and David reached up to the Man-in-the-moon. "Now, then!--A long step," said the Man-in-the-moon-and there was David in the doorway of the moon-house.
Then the moon rose slowly, slowly, ip into the sky and floated away, and the Man-in-the-moon shut the door--click!--clack!