The Manticore

– That was long ago. Merry Christmas, Dunny. That was what Father used to call you, wasn't it?

– Yes, and I always hated it. I think I'd almost rather be called Buggerlugs.

Eisengrim came in and put a small pouch beside my plate. Obviously he meant me to open it, so I did, and out fell a fine pair of ivory dice. I rolled them a few times, without much luck. Then he took them.

– What would you like to come up?

– Double sixes, surely?

He cast the dice, and sure enough, there they were.

– Loaded?

– Nothing so coarse. They are quite innocent, but inside they have a little secret. I'll show you how it works later.

Ramsay laughed.

– You don't suppose an eminent silk would use such things, Magnus? He'd be thrown out of all his clubs.

– I don't know what an eminent silk might do with dice but I know very well what he does in court. Are you a lucky man? To be lucky is always to play with – well, with dice like these. You might like to keep them in your pocket, Davey, just as a reminder of – well, of what our friend Ramsay calls the variability and mutability and general roughness of things.

Liesl had come in, and now she handed me a watch.

– From the Brazen Head.

It was a handsome piece, and on the back was engraved, "Time is… Time was… Time is past," which is perfectly reasonable if you like inscribed watches, and of course these were the words she and Eisengrim used to introduce their Brazen Head illusion. I knew that, between us, it meant the mystery and immemorial age of the cave. I was embarrassed.

– I had no idea there was to be an exchange of gifts. I'm terribly sorry, but I haven't anything for anyone.

– Don't think of it. It is just as one feels. You see, dear Ramsay has not worried about gifts either.

– But I have. I have my gifts here. I wanted to wait till everyone was present before giving mine.

Ramsay produced a paper bag from under the table and solemnly handed us each a large gingerbread bear. They were handsome bears, standing on their hind legs and each holding a log of wood.

– These are the real St. Gall bears; the shops are full of them at this time of year.

Eisengrim nibbled at his bear experimentally.

– Yes, they are made like the bear which is the city crest, or totem, aren't they?

– Indeed, they are images of the veritable bear of St. Gall himself. You know the legend. Early in the seventh century an Irish monk. Callus, came to this part of the world to convert the wild mountaineers. They were bear-worshippers, I believe. He made his hermitage in a cave near where the present city stands, and preached and prayed. But he was so very much a holy man, and so far above merely creatural considerations, that he needed a servant or a friend to help him. Where would he find one? Now it so happened that Callus's cave had another inhabitant, a large bear. And Callus, who was extremely long-headed, made a deal with the bear. If the bear would bring him wood for his fire, he would give the bear bread to eat. And so it was. And this excellent gingerbread – I hope I may say it is excellent without seeming to praise my own gift – reminds us even today that if we are really wise, we will make a working arrangement with the bear that lives with us, because otherwise we shall starve or perhaps be eaten by the bear. You see, like every tale of a saint it has a moral, and the moral is my Christmas gift to you, Davey, you poor Canadian bear-choker, and to you, Magnus, you enchanting fraud, and to you, my dearest Liesl, though you don't need it: cherish your bear, and your bear will feed your fire.

Later: For a walk with Ramsay. It was not long after three o'clock, but already in the mountains sunset was well advanced. He cannot walk far with his lame leg, but he went a few hundred yards, toward a precipice; a low stone wall warned us not to go too near, for the drop was steep toward a valley and some little farmsteads. Talked to him about the decision Liesl wants me to make and asked his advice.

– Liesl likes pushing people to extremes. Are you a man for extremes, Davey? I don't think I can help you. Or can I? You still have that stone… You know, the one that was found in Boy's mouth?

I took it out of my pocket and handed it to him.

– I can do this for you, anyhow, Davey.

He raised his arm high, and with a snap of the wrist threw it far down into the valley. In that instant it was possible to see that he had once been a boy. We both watched until the little speck could no longer be seen against the valley dusk.

– There. At least that's that. Pray God it didn't hit anybody.