"That is a lot of power, but I will grant it."
"Then, in this castle I want a library, a very fine one. A very long time ago a woman wrote a book called Elephantis. I would like that book in the library.”
The man laughed. "l heard the Abbe tell yon about that book. Do you know that I was well acquainted with the girl who wrote it? In fact l put some of the facts contained in that book into her head. Well, I will give you the library and the book. Have you no desire for temporal power?"
"Yes. This castle we are in, though part ruins, was once the home of my family, the Hubelaires. I would like to have it restored to its former grandeur and to live in it as the Overlord of Cornwall."
"That is a simple matter lo arrange, a mere bagatelle." Then he opened his closed hand and in the palm lay a golden key strung on a black silk cord. This he suspended around my neck, saying, "This is the sign patent of your authority. Always remember the words on it:
THEY WHO HOLD THE GOLDEN KEY
SHALL EVER LORDS OF CORNWALL BE.
Guard it well if you wish to remain Overlord. Now I really must be on my way. I wish you a long life and a merry one." Immediately he vanished, amid the hooting of owls.
All around me stirred new life in stone and plaster. I walked slowly through the long halls, now clean of the dust of centuries. Finally I came to the banquet hall, where men-at-arms awaited my command and little pages ran to ask me my desires.
Walking slowly, as in a dream, I mounted the winding stairway and climbed to the topmost tower. There I met a sturdy warrior, standing watch over the safety of the castle. It was a beautiful night, starlighted and with a full moon. Far down the winding road came the blare of trumpets and the pleasant music of horses hooves on the hard clay and the ringing clash of sword against armor at each step of a charger. Now and then, mingled with the noise of many men, came the peal of women's laughter.
"What means this cavalcade advancing toward the castle?" I gruffly asked the warrior.
"These be the great men of Cornwall, with their ladies and knights and all their men-at-arms, who ward their way through the night to bid you welcome to Cornwall and humbly acknowledge you as their Overlord," he replied, smiling.
"That is as it should be," I made answer. "Go and command that all be prepared against their coming. And, when they arrive, bid the nobles to come to me. They will find me in the library."
6. The Tailed Man Of Cornwall
The selection of Tales From Cornwall by David H. Keller, M. D. (I880-I966) which ran in WEIRD TALES all dealt with the humorous and whimsical Cecil, self-appointed Overlord of the area; were four of them, and they were published in the proper order, the last of this part of the series appearing in the October I930 issue. Now we see that instead of being the first four stories of the entire series, they are actually the fifth to eighth stories, and that the earlier ones were somewhat different in tone. It is one of the ironies of history that if, at one time, the Irish believed that the men of Cornwall all had tails, at a later date the marauding English and Scotch, under Cromwell, would send back reports that the Irish had tails.
For several days I was more than busy receiving the great men of Cornwall, who, driven by some mysterious urge which no one fully comprehended but myself had thronged to the castle to acknowledge me as their Overlord. The statements they made to me concerning my fitness for this position were most flattering, yet, at the same lime, as I heard their petitions to have this or that giant killed and one or another of the land's enemies driven out or destroyed, I felt there was certainly a large amount of work connected with my new position of authority. Still, I told all of them that just as soon as I could I would attend to all these minor adventures, because if I was to be Overlord of Cornwall I wanted that land to be peaceful, quiet, and safe. They were delighted with my promises and departed thoroughly convinced of my power to do all they had asked of me. Of course, there was no doubt in my mind as to my ability to perform any great act of chivalry that fell to my lot, for I was certain of my cleverness in fighting against any evil man or animal, even without help; but at the same time it was pleasing to know that in any I would the pie conflict have assistance of the little man I had rescued from the glass bottle on the occasion of the Battle of the Toads
Finally it seemed all my nobles had departed from the castle, a gave me great pleasure, for so far I had used my library only as a consultation room and had found no time to do more than glance at the shelves of bound manuscripts. To my great interest I found on a low table on one side of the room a most peculiar ebony box on the top of which was inlaid the letter H. I carried this over to the central table and opened it. Inside was a book of blank vellum pages elegantly bound in leather, along with a large pot of black ink and a number of goose quill pens. These gave me an inspiration. For some years I had longed to write a history of my life, feeling certain that if I lived long enough I would have many interesting tales to place in proper order and thus give future Hubelaires an accurate account of the adventures of one of their great men. Now I had vellum, ink and quills and, since there seemed nothing imperative to stop me, I decided to start my narrative. But first I placed in the back of this book the chart given to me by my uncle showing the location of our family treasures not wishing it to be lost and yet not wishing to have the search interfere with my writing.
Unwilling to be disturbed, I sent a page for my seneschal, Aethelstan. He was an old man but very capable and had cared for my guests in a most efficient manner.
"How go the affairs of the castle this morning?" I asked. "I have had no visitors, so I judge the nobles have all departed. This pleases me, for I long to be at peace and divert myself with literary work that, for some time, has demanded attention."
"There still remains one of your guests, my Lord," he replied. "He is Lord FitzHugh, last of a very ancient and honorable Cornwall family. Usually he has a pleasing personality, but since coming here with the other nobles he has been in a dour humor. During all the days he has eaten your meat he has never smiled. The gossips say he had ambitions — wanted to become the Overlord and, of course, since your coming to Cornwall that has been impossible."
"Strange," I mused. "He has not asked to see me."
"That may be for the best. He may be looking to slip a dagger into you."
"I hope not. Such a stroke would deprive me of much future pleasure and prevent me from doing all I wish for the welfare of my country." At the same time I stroked the Golden Key and determined to keep it always on me. My friend had promised that I would become Overlord, but had not said for how long.
"Send the Lord to me," I commanded. "It would be best to talk matters over with him. Suggest to him that it would be best to come without a dagger, for I have magical powers he wots not of.”
FitzHugh came to the library, and there was no doubt that he was far from happy. But I found that I had completely misjudged the poor fellow. He was not worrying about his loss of power, but about the loss of something far more precious to him, his lair lady love.
He was evidently fond of the finer things in life and, in the peace of my library, in front of the fire, he lost no time at all in unburdening himself and telling me of his great sorrow.