with rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes mary returned from a walk with katy summers. it had been pleasant but uneventful. just as she turned in at the little dooryard of home, she thought she spied a black something dart like a shadow across the little strip of green beside the house.
“it looks like a cat,” said mary to herself. “i will see where it went to.” she followed to the end of the house, where the shape had seemed to disappear. there was nothing to be seen. she went around the ell, and back to the front of the house again. still there was no trace of the little shadow that had streaked into invisibility.
“if it was not my imagination, it must have gone under the house,” said mary to herself. “two or three times i have thought i spied a black blur in the act of disappearing; and i believe we are haunted by something on four legs. i will ask the family.”
that night at the supper-table she broached the question.
[51]“mother, have you ever seen a cat about the place—a black cat, a swift cat, a cat that never stays for a second in one spot—a mysterious cat that is gone as soon as you see it?”
“that sounds spooky enough!” commented dr. corliss. “you make the shivers run down my sensitive spine!”
“i have not seen any cat,” said mrs. corliss. “i think you must be mistaken, mary.”
“yes, i’ve seen a cat!” volunteered john,—“a thin black cat, oh, so thin! i saw him run across the lawn once; and once i saw him crouching down by the lilac bush near the back door. i think he was catching mice.”
“then there is a cat,” said mary. “i thought i might be dreaming. he must be very wild. i believe he lives under our house.”
“under the house!” exclaimed mrs. corliss. “surely, we should all have seen him if he lived so near. i can’t think he could have escaped my eyes. but now, i remember, i have heard strange noises in the cellar once or twice.”
“i have, often,” said mary, “under my library.”
“maybe it is a witch-cat!” suggested dr. corliss, pretending to look frightened. “you people are all so fond of poetry and ravens and[52] mystery and magics—you attract strange doings, you see. maybe aunt nan had a witch-cat who helped her play tricks on the ever-to-be-surprised world.”
“daddy!” cried john, “there’s no such thing as a witch-cat, is there, truly?”
“of course not!” laughed his mother. “daddy is only joking. and now i come to think of it, i have wondered why the scraps i put out for the birds always vanished so quickly. a hungry cat prowling about would explain everything.”
“it might be aunt nan’s cat,” said mary thoughtfully. “poor thing! he might have run away when he couldn’t find aunt nan any more. he might have been frightened, and have hid under the house.”
“i think in that case he would have starved to death in all these weeks,” said mrs. corliss. “besides, i should think the neighbors would have told us, or that aunt nan herself would have left some word.”
“i’m going to find out, if i can,” said mary. “if it’s aunt nan’s cat i want to be good to him. we want to be good to him, anyway, don’t we?”
“of course we do,” said mrs. corliss. “but there is nothing so hard to tame as a wild cat.”
[53]katy summers knew nothing of any cat belonging to miss corliss. neither did the other neighbors.
that next day on coming home from school mary again spied the cat. just as she clicked the gate she saw the long, black shape scurry across the lawn and vanish under the ell, under mary’s library. mary tiptoed to the house and, stooping, called gently, “kitty! kitty! kitty!”
at first there was no response. but presently there came a feeble and doleful “miaou!” and mary thought she could catch the gleam of two green eyes glaring out of the darkness.
“i must get him something to eat,” said mary. “perhaps i can tempt him to make friends.” and running into the house she returned with a saucer of milk and a bit of meat, which she set down close to the house. “kitty! kitty! kitty!” she called, in a tone of invitation.
“miaou!” cried the forlorn cat again. but he did not come forth from his hiding-place.
“i shall have to go away, and give him a chance to eat when i am not by,” thought mary. and this she did. from her chamber window she could just manage to watch the hole under the ell. after a long time she was rewarded by seeing the cat’s head emerge from the hole. for[54] a minute he stared around with wild eyes, his body ready to spring. but finding himself safe, he hungrily seized the meat and retreated with it under the house. presently he came out again, licking his chops eagerly, and began to lap the milk, retreating every now and then as if some fancied sound alarmed him. the poor creature’s sides were so thin that he resembled a cut-out pasteboard cat. his tail was like that of a long black rat. he seemed to be wearing a collar about his neck.
“he must have been somebody’s pet cat,” said mary to herself. “i must try to tame him.”
but it took a great deal of time and patience to make friends with the poor black pussy, which had evidently been greatly frightened and almost starved. day after day mary set out the saucer of milk and a bit of meat. and each time she did so, she talked kindly to the cat hidden under the house, hoping that he would come out while she was still there. but it was many days before she got more than the mournful “miaou!” in answer to her coaxing words.
at last, one day, after waiting a long time beside the saucer of milk and a particularly savory plate of chicken-bones, mary was rewarded by seeing the cat timidly thrust out his head while[55] she was talking. he drew back almost immediately. but finally the smell of the chicken tempted him beyond caution, and he got up courage to face this stranger who seemed to show no evil intentions. he snatched a chicken-bone and vanished. but this was the beginning of friendship.
the next day the cat came out almost immediately when mary called him. presently he would take things from her hand, timidly at first, then with increasing confidence, when he found that nothing dreadful happened. but still mary had no chance to examine the collar, on which she saw that there were some words engraved.
at last came a day when the cat let mary stroke his fur, now grown much sleeker and covering a plumper body. and from that time it became easier to make friends. soon mary held the creature on her lap for a triumphant minute. and the next day she had a chance to examine the engraved collar. on the silver plate was traced,—“caliban. home of n. corliss. crowfield.”
“he was aunt nan’s cat!” cried mary in excitement. and she ran into the house with the news.
mrs. corliss was astonished. “we must make[56] caliban feel at home again,” she said. “he must have had a terrible fright. but we will help him to forget that before long.”
in a little while mary succeeded in coaxing caliban into the house. and once inside he did not behave like a stranger. for a few moments, indeed, he hesitated, cringing as if in fear of what might happen. but presently he raised his head, sniffed, and, looking neither to right nor left, marched straight toward the library. mary tiptoed after him, in great excitement. caliban went directly to the big armchair beside the desk, sniffed a moment at the cushion, then jumped up and curled himself down for a nap, giving a great sigh of contentment. from that moment he accepted partnership with mary in the room and all its contents.
“well, i never!” cried mrs. corliss, who had followed softly. “the cat is certainly at home. i wonder how he ever happened to go away? i suppose we shall never know.”
and they never did. they made inquiries of the neighbors. but nobody could tell them anything definite about aunt nan’s cat. some persons had, indeed, seen a big black creature stalking about the lawn in the old lady’s time, and had not liked the look of him, as they said. but as[57] miss corliss had never had anything to do with her neighbors, so her cat seemed to have followed her example. and when aunt nan’s day was over, the cat simply disappeared.
caliban must have lived precariously by catching mice and birds. but he never deserted the neighborhood of the old house when the new tenants came to live there; though it took him some time to realize that these were relatives of his mistress whom he might trust.
once more an inmate of the house, caliban never wandered again. he adopted mary as his new mistress, and allowed her to take all kinds of liberties with him. but to the rest of the family he was always rather haughty and stand-offish. john never quite got rid of the idea that caliban was a witch-cat. and sometimes he had a rather creepy feeling when the great black cat blinked at him with his green eyes.
but mary said it was all nonsense. “he’s just a dear, good, soft pussy-cat,” she cried one day, hugging the now plump and handsome caliban in her arms.
and caliban, stretching out a soft paw, laid it lovingly against his little mistress’s cheek.
but john vowed that at the same moment caliban winked wickedly at him!
