Free The Nine Lives of Montezuma by Michael Morpurgo Page A

cross. He was about to retrace his steps when he heard the sound of singing on the far side of the farmyard wall. Montezuma was hungry – hunting in the woods had not been good, not after a diet of trout and milk – and where there were people there was always the possibility of food. So he decided to take a chance. He bounded up the steps, jumped down into the vegetable garden beyond and then padded through under the broad beans until he came out into the sunlight beyond.
    Lily Hildstock was sitting on a swing under an apple tree in the corner of the garden, her head covered by a white hood and a great wooden cross hanging around her neck on a string. She was draped in a long white habit that covered her from head to foot. She sang in rhythm to her swinging, a slow lilting hymn tune that repeated itself every few seconds. On the grass, scattered around the swing lay her pride of little animals: two white rabbits with pink eyes and twitchy noses, a solitary still tortoise, assorted lizards and slow-worms, three shaggy guinea pigs, a hamster and a speckled hen with a broken leg. When she saw the cat stealing across the lawn she sat up on her swing and put her feet down scuffling the swing to a halt.
    Montezuma crouched low on the lawn, his eyes fixed on the hamster. His tail whisked gently. But his plans for the hamster wererudely interrupted. The girl in white was coming towards him. ‘If you come in peace,’ she said, holding up her hand in a sign of blessing. ‘If you come in peace, you are welcome. We are all God’s creatures and we do not harm one another.’ At this moment the animals at her feet sensed the presence of the cat. The rabbits scuttled under the nearest shrub, the tortoise lost its head and the guinea pigs rushed back into their box. But the hamster was asleep by the speckled hen and noticed nothing; the lizards and slow-worms froze where they were. ‘We are all followers of the blessed Saint Francis,’ said Lily walking slowly towards the cat, who remained crouched and suspicious. A few paces away she knelt down and held out both her hands. ‘Come, little cat, come and join us. I am Lily, a nun of the Order of Poor Clares, and I will care for you because you are a creature of God. Thatis what the blessed Clare taught us.’
    Bemused, but interested, Montezuma remained where he was until the little girl reached him, stroked him and then picked him up in her arms. ‘There, little cat, you see. We mean you no harm. You feel thin. We shall feed you. You need shelter. You will live with us. You have been sent to join us and we shall care for you.’
    Her mother was calling her from the back door. ‘Supper, Lily, come in for supper now.’
    â€˜Sister Lily, Reverend Mother. You must call me properly. You are Mother Superior and I am Sister Lily. We agreed.’ She stroked the cat cradled in her arms and Montezuma responded immediately with his deep roaring purr.
    Her mother sighed and cast her eyes to heaven. ‘Sister Lily,’ she said. ‘Sister Lily, even nuns have to eat. Will you please come into the Convent for supper now.’
    â€˜Coming, Reverend Mother,’ Lily said, ‘but first we’ve got to feed this poor starving cat. He’s come to us for help. Have you got a saucer of milk and some cornflakes?’ At this Lily’s mother came round the corner and onto the lawn, shielding her eyes against the sun. ‘Where did you get that?’ she said. ‘Where did it come from? Whose is it?’
    â€˜God’s,’ said Lily, ‘and he came from God. He needs something to eat, Reverend Mother.’
    â€˜Lily, this has gone far enough. We said that we had enough animals already in the Convent, in the house I mean. There’s no room for any more. We agreed.’
    â€˜Just this one, Reverend Mother. He’s old and hungry. God has sent him, I know he has.’ Lily brought the cat into the kitchen