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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Magic World + +Author: Edith Nesbit + +Illustrator: H. R. Millar + Spencer Pryse + +Release Date: January 27, 2009 [EBook #27903] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAGIC WORLD *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, David Wilson and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<hr class="pg" /> + +<div class="main newpg"> +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.001" id="png.001"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">Frontispiece</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-001.png" width="453" height="700" + alt="" title="Frontispiece" /><br + />He scrambled out of the cupboard, and the boots and goloshes fell off him + like spray off a bather.—<a href="#png.039">P. 24.</a></p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="tp"> + +<h1><a name="png.002" id="png.002"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">iii</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><small>THE</small><br + />MAGIC WORLD</h1> + +<p class="author smcap">BY<br/><br + /><big>E. NESBIT</big><br + /><small class="allcaps">AUTHOR OF<br + />‘THE TREASURE SEEKERS,’ ‘THE WONDERFUL GARDEN,’ <!-- original lacks closing quote --><br + />‘THE MAGIC CITY,’ ETC.</small></p> + +<p class="illustr smcap">WITH ILLUSTRATIONS<br + /><small>by</small><br + />H. R. MILLAR and SPENCER PRYSE</p> + +<p class="publisher">MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED<br + />ST. MARTIN’S STREET, LONDON<br + />1924</p> + + +<p class="newpg"><a name="png.003" id="png.003"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">iv</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><i>First published by Macmillan & Co. 1912</i></p> + +<!-- Transcriber's note: this ebook prepared using a facsimile edition. +Additional information from the imprint page is as follows: + +First published in this edition 1980 by + +MAYFLOWER BOOKS INC. + +<i>575 Lexington Avenue New York City 10022</i> + +Illustrations © Macmillan Publishers Ltd + + +<b>Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data</b> + +Bland, Edith Nesbit, 1858–1924. +The magic world. + +(Facsimile classics series) + +Reprint of the 1912 ed., published by Macmillan, London. + +SUMMARY: Twelve stories with magic occurrences. + +1. Children’s stories, English. [1. Magic-fiction. +2. Short stories.] + +I. Millar, H. R. II. Pryse, Gerald Spencer, 1882–1956 III. Title. +IV. Series. + +[PZ7.B61Mag 1980] [Fic] 80-23782 +ISBN 0-8317-5738-8 + +<i>Printed in Hong Kong</i> --> + +</div> + +<div class="main"> +<h2><a name="png.004" id="png.004"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">v</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>CONTENTS</h2> + + +<table class="toc width80" summary="Table of Contents"> +<tr><td class="pg squish" colspan="3"><small> PAGE</small></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="chap">1.</td><td class="title"><span class="smcap">The Cat-hood of Maurice</span></td + ><td class="pg"> <a href="#png.008">1</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="chap">2.</td><td class="title"><span class="smcap">The Mixed Mine</span></td + ><td class="pg"> <a href="#png.042">27</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="chap">3.</td><td class="title"><span class="smcap">Accidental Magic</span></td + ><td class="pg"> <a href="#png.081">58</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="chap">4.</td><td class="title"><span class="smcap">The Princess and the Hedge-pig</span></td + ><td class="pg"> <a href="#png.129">96</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="chap">5.</td><td class="title"><span class="smcap">Septimus Septimusson</span></td + ><td class="pg"> <a href="#png.165">126</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="chap">6.</td><td class="title"><span class="smcap">The White Cat</span></td + ><td class="pg"> <a href="#png.187">148</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="chap">7.</td><td class="title"><span class="smcap">Belinda and Bellamant</span></td + ><td class="pg"> <a href="#png.199">160</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="chap">8.</td><td class="title"><span class="smcap">Justnowland</span></td + ><td class="pg"> <a href="#png.224">185</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="chap">9.</td><td class="title"><span class="smcap">The Related Muff</span></td + ><td class="pg"> <a href="#png.245">206</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="chap">10.</td><td class="title"><span class="smcap">The Aunt and Amabel</span></td + ><td class="pg"> <a href="#png.263">218</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="chap">11.</td><td class="title"><span class="smcap">Kenneth and the Carp</span></td + ><td class="pg"> <a href="#png.278">233</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="chap">12.</td><td class="title"><span class="smcap">The Magician’s Heart</span></td + ><td class="pg"> <a href="#png.313">260</a></td></tr> +</table> + + +<h2><a name="png.006" id="png.006"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">vii</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<table class="toc" summary="List of Illustrations"> +<tr><td class="title">He scrambled out of the cupboard, and the boots and +goloshes fell off him like spray off a bather (<a href="#png.039">p. 24</a>)</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.001"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="pg squish" colspan="2"><small>FACE PAGE</small></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">‘If you think cats have such a jolly time,’ said Lord +Hugh, ‘why not <em>be</em> a cat?’</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.015">7</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">It was Mabel who untied the string and soothed his +terrors</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.024">14</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">He landed there on his four padded feet light as a +feather</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.029">17</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">When Jane went in to put Mabel’s light out, Maurice +crept in too</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.035">21</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">Her bow went down suddenly</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.044">28</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">‘Look!’ he said, ‘look!’ and pointed</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.053">35</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">Far above him and every one else towered the elephant</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.059">39</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">It became a quite efficient motor</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.064">42</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">Quentin de Ward</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.082">58</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">It landed on the point of the chin of Smithson major</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.093">67</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">‘Who are you?’ he said. ‘Answer, I adjure you +by the Sacred Tau!’</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.107">79</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">The cart was drawn by an enormous creature, more +like an elephant than anything else</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.115">85</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title"><a name="png.007" id="png.007"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">viii</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Silence!’ cried the priest. ‘Chosen of the Immortals, +close your eyes!’</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.123">91</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">On the lower terrace the royal nurse was walking +up and down with the baby princess that all the +fuss was about</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.132">98</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">Instantly a flight of winged arrows crossed the garden</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.145">109</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">‘I would kiss you on every one of your thousand +spears,’ she said, ‘to give you what you wish’</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.161">123</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">So we all sat on chairs in the drawing-room, and +thought of nothing to say harder than ever</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.248">208</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">We scalped Eliza as she passed through the hall</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.255">213</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">Sidney threw the rug over her, and rolled her over and +over</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.259">215</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">Early next morning he tried to catch fish with several +pieces of string knotted together and a hairpin</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.281">235</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">A radiant vision stepped into the circle of light</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.289">241</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">There was a splash</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.298">248</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="title">‘Oh, good-bye!’ he cried desperately, and snapped +at the worm</td><td class="pg"><a href="#png.308">256</a></td></tr> +</table> + + + + +<h2><a name="png.008" id="png.008"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">1</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><b>I</b><br + />THE CAT-HOOD OF MAURICE</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">To</span> have your hair cut is not painful, nor does it +hurt to have your whiskers trimmed. But round +wooden shoes, shaped like bowls, are not comfortable +wear, however much it may amuse the +onlooker to see you try to walk in them. If +you have a nice fur coat like a company promoter’s, +it is most annoying to be made to swim +in it. And if you had a tail, surely it would be +solely your own affair; that any one should tie +a tin can to it would strike you as an unwarrantable +impertinence—to say the least.</p> + +<p>Yet it is difficult for an outsider to see these +things from the point of view of both the +persons concerned. To Maurice, scissors in +hand, alive and earnest to snip, it seemed the +most natural thing in the world to shorten the +stiff whiskers of Lord Hugh Cecil by a generous +inch. He did not understand how useful those +whiskers were to Lord Hugh, both in sport and +in the more serious business of getting a living. +<a name="png.009" id="png.009"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">2</span><span class="ns">] + </span>Also it amused Maurice to throw Lord Hugh +into ponds, though Lord Hugh only once permitted +this liberty. To put walnuts on Lord +Hugh’s feet and then to watch him walk on ice +was, in Maurice’s opinion, as good as a play. +Lord Hugh was a very favourite cat, but +Maurice was discreet, and Lord Hugh, except +under violent suffering, was at that time anyhow, +dumb.</p> + +<p>But the empty sardine-tin attached to Lord +Hugh’s tail and hind legs—this had a voice, +and, rattling against stairs, banisters, and the +legs of stricken furniture, it cried aloud for +vengeance. Lord Hugh, suffering violently, +added his voice, and this time the family heard. +There was a chase, a chorus of ‘Poor pussy!’ +and ‘Pussy, then!’ and the tail and the tin and +Lord Hugh were caught under Jane’s bed. +The tail and the tin acquiesced in their rescue. +Lord Hugh did not. He fought, scratched, +and bit. Jane carried the scars of that rescue +for many a long week.</p> + +<p>When all was calm Maurice was sought and, +after some little natural delay, found—in the +boot-cupboard.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, Maurice!’ his mother almost sobbed, +‘how <em>can</em> you? What will your father say?’</p> + +<p>Maurice thought he knew what his father +would do.</p> + +<p><a name="png.010" id="png.010"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">3</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Don’t you know,’ the mother went on, +‘how wrong it is to be cruel?’</p> + +<p>‘I didn’t mean to be cruel,’ Maurice said. +And, what is more, he spoke the truth. All +the unwelcome attentions he had showered on +Lord Hugh had not been exactly intended to +hurt that stout veteran—only it was interesting +to see what a cat would do if you threw it in +the water, or cut its whiskers, or tied things to +its tail.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, but you must have meant to be +cruel,’ said mother, ‘and you will have to be +punished.’</p> + +<p>‘I wish I hadn’t,’ said Maurice, from the heart.</p> + +<p>‘So do I,’ said his mother, with a sigh; +‘but it isn’t the first time; you know you tied +Lord Hugh up in a bag with the hedgehog +only last Tuesday week. You’d better go to +your room and think it over. I shall have to +tell your father directly he comes home.’</p> + +<p>Maurice went to his room and thought it +over. And the more he thought the more he +hated Lord Hugh. Why couldn’t the beastly +cat have held his tongue and sat still? That, +at the time would have been a disappointment, +but now Maurice wished it had happened. He +sat on the edge of his bed and savagely kicked +the edge of the green Kidderminster carpet, +and hated the cat.</p> + +<p><a name="png.011" id="png.011"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">4</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>He hadn’t meant to be cruel; he was sure +he hadn’t; he wouldn’t have pinched the cat’s +feet or squeezed its tail in the door, or pulled +its whiskers, or poured hot water on it. He +felt himself ill-used, and knew that he would +feel still more so after the inevitable interview +with his father.</p> + +<p>But that interview did not take the immediately +painful form expected by Maurice. His +father did <em>not</em> say, ‘Now I will show you what +it feels like to be hurt.’ Maurice had braced +himself for that, and was looking beyond it to +the calm of forgiveness which should follow the +storm in which he should so unwillingly take +part. No; his father was already calm and +reasonable—with a dreadful calm, a terrifying +reason.</p> + +<p>‘Look here, my boy,’ he said. ‘This +cruelty to dumb animals must be checked—severely +checked.’</p> + +<p>‘I didn’t mean to be cruel,’ said Maurice.</p> + +<p>‘Evil,’ said Mr. Basingstoke, for such was +Maurice’s surname, ‘is wrought by want of +thought as well as want of heart. What about +your putting the hen in the oven?’</p> + +<p>‘You know,’ said Maurice, pale but determined, +‘you <em>know</em> I only wanted to help her to +get her eggs hatched quickly. It says in “Fowls +for Food and Fancy” that heat hatches eggs.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.012" id="png.012"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">5</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘But she hadn’t any eggs,’ said Mr. Basingstoke.</p> + +<p>‘But she soon would have,’ urged Maurice. +‘I thought a stitch in <span class="nw">time——’</span></p> + +<p>‘That,’ said his father, ‘is the sort of +thing that you must learn not to think.’</p> + +<p>‘I’ll try,’ said Maurice, miserably hoping +for the best.</p> + +<p>‘I intend that you shall,’ said Mr. Basingstoke. +‘This afternoon you go to Dr. Strongitharm’s +for the remaining week of term. If I +find any more cruelty taking place during the +holidays you will go there permanently. You +can go and get ready.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, father, <em>please</em> not,’ was all Maurice +found to say.</p> + +<p>‘I’m sorry, my boy,’ said his father, much +more kindly; ‘it’s all for your own good, and +it’s as painful to me as it is to you—remember +that. The cab will be here at four. Go and +put your things together, and Jane shall pack +for you.’</p> + +<p>So the box was packed. Mabel, Maurice’s +kiddy sister, cried over everything as it was +put in. It was a very wet day.</p> + +<p>‘If it had been any school but old Strong’s,’ +she sobbed.</p> + +<p>She and her brother knew that school well: +its windows, dulled with wire blinds, its big +<a name="png.013" id="png.013"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">6</span><span class="ns">] + </span>alarm bell, the high walls of its grounds, +bristling with spikes, the iron gates, always +locked, through which gloomy boys, imprisoned, +scowled on a free world. Dr. +Strongitharm’s was a school ‘for backward +and difficult boys.’ Need I say more?</p> + +<p>Well, there was no help for it. The box +was packed, the cab was at the door. The +farewells had been said. Maurice determined +that he wouldn’t cry and he didn’t, which gave +him the one touch of pride and joy that such a +scene could yield. Then at the last moment, +just as father had one leg in the cab, the Taxes +called. Father went back into the house to +write a cheque. Mother and Mabel had +retired in tears. Maurice used the reprieve to +go back after his postage-stamp album. +Already he was planning how to impress the +other boys at old Strong’s, and his was really a +very fair collection. He ran up into the schoolroom, +expecting to find it empty. But some +one was there: Lord Hugh, in the very middle +of the ink-stained table-cloth.</p> + +<p>‘You brute,’ said Maurice; ‘you know +jolly well I’m going away, or you wouldn’t be +here.’ And, indeed, the room had never, +somehow, been a favourite of Lord Hugh’s.</p> + +<p>‘Meaow,’ said Lord Hugh.</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.015" id="png.015"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p7</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-015.png" width="596" height="700" + alt="" title="" /><br + />‘If you think cats have such a jolly time,’ said Lord Hugh, ‘why not <em>be</em> +a cat?’</p> +</div> + +<p>‘Mew!’ said Maurice, with scorn. ‘That’s +<a name="png.016" id="png.016"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">7</span><span class="ns">] + </span>what you always say. All that fuss about a +jolly little sardine-tin. Any one would have +thought you’d be only too glad to have it to +play with. I wonder how you’d like being a +boy? Lickings, and lessons, and impots, and +sent back from breakfast to wash your ears. +You wash yours anywhere—I wonder what +they’d say to me if I washed my ears on the +drawing-room hearthrug?’</p> + +<p>‘Meaow,’ said Lord Hugh, and washed an +ear, as though he were showing off.</p> + +<p>‘Mew,’ said Maurice again; ‘that’s all +you can say.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, no, it isn’t,’ said Lord Hugh, and +stopped his ear-washing.</p> + +<p>‘I say!’ said Maurice in awestruck tones.</p> + +<p>‘If you think cats have such a jolly time,’ +said Lord Hugh, ‘why not <em>be</em> a cat?’</p> + +<p>‘I would if I could,’ said Maurice, ‘and +fight <span class="nw">you——’</span></p> + +<p>‘Thank you,’ said Lord Hugh.</p> + +<p>‘But I can’t,’ said Maurice.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, yes, you can,’ said Lord Hugh. +‘You’ve only got to say the word.’</p> + +<p>‘What word?’</p> + +<p>Lord Hugh told him the word; but I will +not tell you, for fear you should say it by +accident and then be sorry.</p> + +<p>‘And if I say that, I shall turn into a cat?’</p> + +<p><a name="png.017" id="png.017"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">8</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Of course,’ said the cat.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, yes, I see,’ said Maurice. ‘But I’m +not taking any, thanks. I don’t want to be +a cat for always.’</p> + +<p>‘You needn’t,’ said Lord Hugh. ‘You’ve +only got to get some one to say to you, “Please <!-- original lacks opening double quote --> +leave off being a cat and be Maurice again,” +and there you are.’</p> + +<p>Maurice thought of Dr. Strongitharm’s. He +also thought of the horror of his father when +he should find Maurice gone, vanished, not to +be traced. ‘He’ll be sorry, then,’ Maurice told +himself, and to the cat he said, suddenly:—</p> + +<p>‘Right—I’ll do it. What’s the word, +again?’</p> + +<p><span class="nw">‘——,’</span> said the cat.</p> + +<p><span class="nw">‘——,’</span> said Maurice; and suddenly the +table shot up to the height of a house, the +walls to the height of tenement buildings, the +pattern on the carpet became enormous, and +Maurice found himself on all fours. He tried +to stand up on his feet, but his shoulders were +oddly heavy. He could only rear himself +upright for a moment, and then fell heavily +on his hands. He looked down at them; they +seemed to have grown shorter and fatter, and +were encased in black fur gloves. He felt a +desire to walk on all fours—tried it—did it. +It was very odd—the movement of the arms +<a name="png.018" id="png.018"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">9</span><span class="ns">] + </span>straight from the shoulder, more like the +movement of the piston of an engine than anything +Maurice could think of at that moment.</p> + +<p>‘I am asleep,’ said Maurice—‘I am dreaming +this. I am dreaming I am a cat. I hope I +dreamed that about the sardine-tin and Lord +Hugh’s tail, and Dr. Strong’s.’</p> + +<p>‘You didn’t,’ said a voice he knew and yet +didn’t know, ‘and you aren’t dreaming this.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, I am,’ said Maurice; ‘and now I’m +going to dream that I fight that beastly black +cat, and give him the best licking he ever had +in his life. Come on, Lord Hugh.’</p> + +<p>A loud laugh answered him.</p> + +<p>‘Excuse my smiling,’ said the voice he +knew and didn’t know, ‘but don’t you see—you +<em>are</em> Lord Hugh!’</p> + +<p>A great hand picked Maurice up from the +floor and held him in the air. He felt the +position to be not only undignified but unsafe, +and gave himself a shake of mingled relief and +resentment when the hand set him down on +the inky table-cloth.</p> + +<p>‘You are Lord Hugh now, my dear Maurice,’ +said the voice, and a huge face came quite +close to his. It was his own face, as it would +have seemed through a magnifying glass. And +the voice—oh, horror!—the voice was his own +voice—Maurice Basingstoke’s voice. Maurice +<a name="png.019" id="png.019"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">10</span><span class="ns">] + </span>shrank from the voice, and he would have +liked to claw the face, but he had had no +practice.</p> + +<p>‘You are Lord Hugh,’ the voice repeated, +‘and I am Maurice. I like being Maurice. +I am so large and strong. I could drown you +in the water-butt, my poor cat—oh, so easily. +No, don’t spit and swear. It’s bad manners—even +in a cat.’</p> + +<p>‘Maurice!’ shouted Mr. Basingstoke from +between the door and the cab.</p> + +<p>Maurice, from habit, leaped towards the +door.</p> + +<p>‘It’s no use <em>your</em> going,’ said the thing +that looked like a giant reflection of Maurice; +‘it’s <em>me</em> he wants.’</p> + +<p>‘But I didn’t agree to your being me.’</p> + +<p>‘That’s poetry, even if it isn’t grammar,’ +said the thing that looked like Maurice. ‘Why, +my good cat, don’t you see that if you are I, +I must be you? Otherwise we should interfere +with time and space, upset the balance of power, +and as likely as not destroy the solar system. +Oh, yes—I’m you, right enough, and shall be, +till some one tells you to change from Lord +Hugh into Maurice. And now you’ve got to +find some one to do it.’</p> + +<p>(‘Maurice!’ thundered the voice of Mr. +Basingstoke.)</p> + +<p><a name="png.020" id="png.020"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">11</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘That’ll be easy enough,’ said Maurice.</p> + +<p>‘Think so?’ said the other.</p> + +<p>‘But I sha’n’t try yet. I want to have +some fun first. I shall catch heaps of mice!’</p> + +<p>‘Think so? You forget that your whiskers +are cut off—Maurice cut them. Without +whiskers, how can you judge of the width of +the places you go through? Take care you +don’t get stuck in a hole that you can’t get out +of or go in through, my good cat.’</p> + +<p>‘Don’t call me a cat,’ said Maurice, and +felt that his tail was growing thick and angry.</p> + +<p>‘You <em>are</em> a cat, you know—and that little +bit of temper that I see in your tail reminds +<span class="nw">me——’</span></p> + +<p>Maurice felt himself gripped round the +middle, abruptly lifted, and carried swiftly +through the air. The quickness of the movement +made him giddy. The light went so +quickly past him that it might as well have +been darkness. He saw nothing, felt nothing, +except a sort of long sea-sickness, and then +suddenly he was not being moved. He could +see now. He could feel. He was being held +tight in a sort of vice—a vice covered with +chequered cloth. It looked like the pattern, +very much exaggerated, of his school knickerbockers. +It <em>was</em>. He was being held between +the hard, relentless knees of that creature that +<a name="png.021" id="png.021"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">12</span><span class="ns">] + </span>had once been Lord Hugh, and to whose tail +he had tied a sardine-tin. Now <em>he</em> was Lord +Hugh, and something was being tied to <em>his</em> +tail. Something mysterious, terrible. Very +well, he would show that he was not afraid of +anything that could be attached to tails. The +string rubbed his fur the wrong way—it was +that that annoyed him, not the string itself; +and as for what was at the end of the string, +what <em>could</em> that matter to any sensible cat? +Maurice was quite decided that he was—and +would keep on being—a sensible cat.</p> + +<p>The string, however, and the uncomfortable, +tight position between those chequered +knees—something or other was getting on his +nerves.</p> + +<p>‘Maurice!’ shouted his father below, and +the be-catted Maurice bounded between the +knees of the creature <ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'than'">that</ins> wore his clothes and +his looks.</p> + +<p>‘Coming, father,’ this thing called, and +sped away, leaving Maurice on the servant’s +bed—under which Lord Hugh had taken +refuge, with his tin-can, so short and yet so +long a time ago. The stairs re-echoed to the +loud boots which Maurice had never before +thought loud; he had often, indeed, wondered +that any one could object to them. He wondered +now no longer.</p> + +<p><a name="png.022" id="png.022"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">13</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>He heard the front door slam. That thing +had gone to Dr. Strongitharm’s. That was +one comfort. Lord Hugh was a boy now; he +would know what it was to be a boy. He, +Maurice, was a cat, and he meant to taste +fully all catty pleasures, from milk to mice. +Meanwhile he was without mice or milk, and, +unaccustomed as he was to a tail, he could +not but feel that all was not right with his +own. There was a feeling of weight, a feeling +of discomfort, of positive terror. If he should +move, what would that thing that was tied to +his tail do? Rattle, of course. Oh, but he +could not bear it if that thing rattled. Nonsense; +it was only a sardine-tin. Yes, Maurice knew +that. But all the same—if it did rattle! He +moved his tail the least little soft inch. No +sound. Perhaps really there wasn’t anything +tied to his tail. But he couldn’t be sure unless +he moved. But if he moved the thing would +rattle, and if it rattled Maurice felt sure that +he would expire or go mad. A mad cat. +What a dreadful thing to be! Yet he couldn’t +sit on that bed for ever, waiting, waiting, waiting +for the dreadful thing to happen.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, dear,’ sighed Maurice the cat. ‘I +never knew what people meant by “afraid” +before.’</p> + +<p>His cat-heart was beating heavily against +<a name="png.023" id="png.023"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">14</span><span class="ns">] + </span>his furry side. His limbs were getting cramped—he +must move. He did. And instantly +the awful thing happened. The sardine-tin +touched the iron of the bed-foot. It rattled.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, I can’t bear it, I can’t,’ cried poor +Maurice, in a heartrending meaow that echoed +through the house. He leaped from the bed +and tore through the door and down the stairs, +and behind him came the most terrible thing +in the world. People might call it a sardine-tin, +but he knew better. It was the soul of +all the fear that ever had been or ever could +be. <em>It rattled.</em></p> + +<p>Maurice who was a cat flew down the stairs; +down, down—the rattling horror followed. Oh, +horrible! Down, down! At the foot of the +stairs the horror, caught by something—a +banister—a stair-rod—stopped. The string +on Maurice’s tail tightened, his tail was jerked, +he was stopped. But the noise had stopped +too. Maurice lay only just alive at the foot of +the stairs.</p> + +<p>It was Mabel who untied the string and +soothed his terrors with strokings and tender +love-words. Maurice was surprised to find +what a nice little girl his sister really was.</p> + +<p>‘I’ll never tease you again,’ he tried to say, +softly—but that was not what he said. What +he said was ‘Purrrr.’</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.024" id="png.024"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p14</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-024.png" + width="650" height="460" alt="" title="" /><br + />It was Mabel who untied the string and soothed his terrors.</p> +</div> + + +<p><a name="png.026" id="png.026"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">15</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Dear pussy, nice poor pussy, then,’ said +Mabel, and she hid away the sardine-tin and +did not tell any one. This seemed unjust to +Maurice until he remembered that, of course, +Mabel thought that he was really Lord Hugh, +and that the person who had tied the tin to his +tail was her brother Maurice. Then he was +half grateful. She carried him down, in soft, +safe arms, to the kitchen, and asked cook to +give him some milk.</p> + +<p>‘Tell me to change back into Maurice,’ said +Maurice who was quite worn out by his cattish +experiences. But no one heard him. What +they heard was, ‘Meaow—Meaow—Meeeaow!’</p> + +<p>Then Maurice saw how he had been tricked. +He could be changed back into a boy as soon +as any one said to him, ‘Leave off being a cat +and be Maurice again,’ but his tongue had no +longer the power to ask any one to say it.</p> + +<p>He did not sleep well that night. For one +thing he was not accustomed to sleeping on the +kitchen hearthrug, and the blackbeetles were +too many and too cordial. He was glad when +cook came down and turned him out into +the garden, where the October frost still lay +white on the yellowed stalks of sunflowers and +nasturtiums. He took a walk, climbed a tree, +failed to catch a bird, and felt better. He +began also to feel hungry. A delicious scent +<a name="png.027" id="png.027"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">16</span><span class="ns"> + </span>came stealing out of the back kitchen door. +Oh, joy, there were to be herrings for breakfast! +Maurice hastened in and took his place +on his usual chair.</p> + +<p>His mother said, ‘Down, puss,’ and gently +tilted the chair so that Maurice fell off it. Then +the family had herrings. Maurice said, ‘You +might give me some,’ and he said it so often +that his father, who, of course, heard only +mewings, said:—</p> + +<p>‘For goodness’ sake put that cat out of the +room.’</p> + +<p>Maurice breakfasted later, in the dust-bin, +on herring heads.</p> + +<p>But he kept himself up with a new and +splendid idea. They would give him milk +presently, and then they should see.</p> + +<p>He spent the afternoon sitting on the sofa +in the dining-room, listening to the conversation +of his father and mother. It is said that +listeners never hear any good of themselves. +Maurice heard so much that he was surprised +and humbled. He heard his father say that +he was a fine, plucky little chap, but he needed +a severe lesson, and Dr. Strongitharm was the +man to give it to him. He heard his mother +say things that made his heart throb in his +throat and the tears prick behind those green +cat-eyes of his. He had always thought his +<a name="png.030" id="png.030"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">17</span><span class="ns">] + </span>parents a little bit unjust. Now they did him +so much more than justice that he felt quite +small and mean inside his cat-skin.</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.029" id="png.029"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p17</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-029.png" + width="516" height="700" alt="" title="" /><br + />He landed there on his four padded feet light as a feather.</p> +</div> + +<p>‘He’s a dear, good, affectionate boy,’ said +mother. ‘It’s only his high spirits. Don’t +you think, darling, perhaps you were a little +hard on him?’</p> + +<p>‘It was for his own good,’ said father.</p> + +<p>‘Of course,’ said mother; ‘but I can’t +bear to think of him at that dreadful school.’</p> + +<p><span class="nw">‘Well——,’</span> father was beginning, when +Jane came in with the tea-things on a clattering +tray, whose sound made Maurice tremble in +every leg. Father and mother began to talk +about the weather.</p> + +<p>Maurice felt very affectionately to both his +parents. The natural way of showing this was +to jump on to the sideboard and thence on to +his father’s shoulders. He landed there on his +four padded feet, light as a feather, but father +was not pleased.</p> + +<p>‘Bother the cat!’ he cried. ‘Jane, put it +out of the room.’</p> + +<p>Maurice was put out. His great idea, which +was to be carried out with milk, would certainly +not be carried out in the dining-room. He +sought the kitchen, and, seeing a milk-can on +the window-ledge, jumped up beside the can +and patted it as he had seen Lord Hugh do.</p> + +<p><a name="png.031" id="png.031"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">18</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘My!’ said a friend of Jane’s who happened +to be there, ‘ain’t that cat clever—a perfect +moral, I call her.’</p> + +<p>‘He’s nothing to boast of this time,’ said +cook. ‘I will say for Lord Hugh he’s not +often taken in with a empty can.’</p> + +<p>This was naturally mortifying for Maurice, but +he pretended not to hear, and jumped from the +window to the tea-table and patted the milk-jug.</p> + +<p>‘Come,’ said the cook, ‘that’s more like it,’ +and she poured him out a full saucer and set it +on the floor.</p> + +<p>Now was the chance Maurice had longed +for. Now he could carry out that idea of his. +He was very thirsty, for he had had nothing +since that delicious breakfast in the dust-bin. +But not for worlds would he have drunk the +milk. No. He carefully dipped his right paw +in it, for his idea was to make letters with it <!-- original has extraneous period --> +on the kitchen oil-cloth. He meant to write: +‘Please tell me to leave off being a cat and be +Maurice again,’ but he found his paw a very +clumsy pen, and he had to rub out the first +‘P’ because it only looked like an accident. +Then he tried again and actually did make a +‘P’ that any fair-minded person could have +read quite easily.</p> + +<p>‘I wish they’d notice,’ he said, and before +he got the ‘l’ written they did notice.</p> + +<p><a name="png.032" id="png.032"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">19</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Drat the cat,’ said cook; ‘look how he’s +messing the floor up.’</p> + +<p>And she took away the milk.</p> + +<p>Maurice put pride aside and mewed to have +the milk put down again. But he did not +get it.</p> + +<p>Very weary, very thirsty, and very tired of +being Lord Hugh, he presently found his way +to the schoolroom, where Mabel with patient +toil was doing her home-lessons. She took +him on her lap and stroked him while she +learned her French verb. He felt that he was +growing very fond of her. People were quite +right to be kind to dumb animals. Presently +she had to stop stroking him and do a map. +And after that she kissed him and put him +down and went away. All the time she had +been doing the map, Maurice had had but one +thought: <em>Ink!</em></p> + +<p>The moment the door had closed behind +her—how sensible people were who closed doors +gently—he stood up in her chair with one paw +on the map and the other on the ink. Unfortunately, +the inkstand top was made to +dip pens in, and not to dip paws. But Maurice +was desperate. He deliberately upset the ink—most +of it rolled over the table-cloth and fell +pattering on the carpet, but with what was left +he wrote quite plainly, across the map:—</p> + +<div class="semi"><!-- weird linebreaks as per original --> +<a name="png.033" id="png.033"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">20</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Please tell Lord Hugh<br + />to stop being<br + />a cat and be Mau<br + />rice again.’ +</div> + +<p>‘There!’ he said; ‘they can’t make any +mistake about that.’ They didn’t. But they +made a mistake about who had done it, and +Mabel was deprived of jam with her supper +bread.</p> + +<p>Her assurance that some naughty boy must +have come through the window and done it +while she was not there convinced nobody, +and, indeed, the window was shut and bolted.</p> + +<p>Maurice, wild with indignation, did not +mend matters by seizing the opportunity of a +few minutes’ solitude to write:—</p> + +<div class="semi"><!-- weird linebreaks as per original --> +‘It was not Mabel<br + />it was Maur<br + />ice I mean Lord Hugh,’ +</div> + +<p class="cont">because when that was seen Mabel was instantly +sent to bed.</p> + +<p>‘It’s not fair!’ cried Maurice.</p> + +<p>‘My dear,’ said Maurice’s father, ‘if that +cat goes on mewing to this extent you’ll have +to get rid of it.’</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.035" id="png.035"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p21</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-035.png" + width="549" height="600" alt="" title="" /><br + />When Jane went in to put Mabel’s light out Maurice crept in too.</p> +</div> + +<p>Maurice said not another word. It was +bad enough to be a cat, but to be a cat that +was ‘got rid <ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'off'">of</ins>’! He knew how people got +rid of cats. In a stricken silence he left the +<a name="png.036" id="png.036"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">21</span><span class="ns"> + </span>room and slunk up the stairs—he dared not +mew again, even at the door of Mabel’s room. +But when Jane went in to put Mabel’s light +out Maurice crept in too, and in the dark tried +with stifled mews and purrs to explain to Mabel +how sorry he was. Mabel stroked him and he +went to sleep, his last waking thought amazement +at the blindness that had once made him +call her a silly little kid.</p> + +<p>If you have ever been a cat you will understand +something of what Maurice endured +during the dreadful days that followed. If you +have not, I can never make you understand +fully. There was the affair of the fishmonger’s +tray balanced on the wall by the back door—the +delicious curled-up whiting; Maurice knew +as well as you do that one mustn’t steal fish +out of other people’s trays, but the cat that he +was didn’t know. There was an inward +struggle—and Maurice was beaten by the cat-nature. +Later he was beaten by the cook.</p> + +<p>Then there was that very painful incident +with the butcher’s dog, the flight across gardens, +the safety of the plum tree gained only just in +time.</p> + +<p>And, worst of all, despair took hold of him, +for he saw that nothing he could do would +make any one say those simple words that +would release him. He had hoped that Mabel +<a name="png.037" id="png.037"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">22</span><span class="ns"> + </span>might at last be made to understand, but the +ink had failed him; she did not understand his +subdued mewings, and when he got the cardboard +letters and made the same sentence with +them Mabel only thought it was that naughty +boy who came through locked windows. +Somehow he could not spell before any one—his +nerves were not what they had been. His +brain now gave him no new ideas. He felt +that he was really growing like a cat in his +mind. His interest in his meals grew beyond +even what it had been when they were a schoolboy’s +meals. He hunted mice with growing +enthusiasm, though the loss of his whiskers to +measure narrow places with made hunting +difficult.</p> + +<p>He grew expert in bird-stalking, and often +got quite near to a bird before it flew away, +laughing at him. But all the time, in his heart, +he was very, very miserable. And so the +week went by.</p> + +<p>Maurice in his cat shape dreaded more and +more the time when Lord Hugh in the boy +shape should come back from Dr. Strongitharm’s. +He knew—who better?—exactly the kind of +things boys do to cats, and he trembled to the +end of his handsome half-Persian tail.</p> + +<p>And then the boy came home from Dr. +Strongitharm’s, and at the first sound of his +<a name="png.038" id="png.038"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">23</span><span class="ns"> + </span>boots in the hall Maurice in the cat’s body +fled with silent haste to hide in the boot-cupboard.</p> + +<p>Here, ten minutes later, the boy that had +come back from Dr. Strongitharm’s found +him.</p> + +<p>Maurice fluffed up his tail and unsheathed +his claws. Whatever this boy was going to do +to him Maurice meant to resist, and his resistance +should hurt the boy as much as possible. +I am sorry to say Maurice swore softly among +the boots, but cat-swearing is not really wrong.</p> + +<p>‘Come out, you old duffer,’ said Lord +Hugh in the boy shape of Maurice. ‘I’m not +going to hurt you.’</p> + +<p>‘I’ll see to that,’ said Maurice, backing into +the corner, all teeth and claws.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, I’ve had such a time!’ said Lord +Hugh. ‘It’s no use, you know, old chap; I +can see where you are by your green eyes. +My word, they do shine. I’ve been caned and +shut up in a dark room and given thousands of +lines to write out.’</p> + +<p>‘I’ve been beaten, too, if you come to +that,’ mewed Maurice. ‘Besides the butcher’s +dog.’</p> + +<p>It was an intense relief to speak to some one +who could understand his mews.</p> + +<p>‘Well, I suppose it’s Pax for the future,’ +<a name="png.039" id="png.039"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">24</span><span class="ns"> + </span>said Lord Hugh; ‘if you won’t come out, you +won’t. Please leave off being a cat and be +Maurice again.’</p> + +<p>And instantly Maurice, amid a heap of +goloshes and old tennis bats, felt with a swelling +heart that he was no longer a cat. No more +of those undignified four legs, those tiresome +pointed ears, so difficult to wash, that furry +coat, that contemptible tail, and that terrible +inability to express all one’s feelings in two +words—‘mew’ and ‘purr.’</p> + +<p>He scrambled out of the cupboard, and the +boots and goloshes fell off him like spray off a +bather.</p> + +<p>He stood upright in those very chequered +knickerbockers that were so terrible when their +knees held one vice-like, while things were +tied to one’s tail. He was face to face with +another boy, exactly like himself.</p> + +<p>‘<em>You</em> haven’t changed, then—but there can’t +be two Maurices.’</p> + +<p>‘There sha’n’t be; not if I know it,’ said +the other boy; ‘a boy’s <ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'life'">life’s</ins> a dog’s life. +Quick, before any one comes.’</p> + +<p>‘Quick what?’ asked Maurice.</p> + +<p>‘Why tell me to leave off being a boy, and +to be Lord Hugh Cecil again.’</p> + +<p>Maurice told him at once. And at once the +boy was gone, and there was Lord Hugh in +<a name="png.040" id="png.040"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">25</span><span class="ns"> + </span>his own shape, purring politely, yet with a +watchful eye on Maurice’s movements.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, you needn’t be afraid, old chap. It’s +Pax right enough,’ Maurice murmured in the +ear of Lord Hugh. And Lord Hugh, arching +his back under Maurice’s stroking hand, replied +with a purrrr-meaow that spoke volumes.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, Maurice, here you are. It <em>is</em> nice of +you to be nice to Lord Hugh, when it was +because of him <span class="nw">you——’</span></p> + +<p>‘He’s a good old chap,’ said Maurice, carelessly. +‘And <ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'your'">you’re</ins> not half a bad old girl. See?’</p> + +<p>Mabel almost wept for joy at this magnificent +compliment, and Lord Hugh himself took on a +more happy and confident air.</p> + +<p>Please dismiss any fears which you may +entertain that after this Maurice became a model +boy. He didn’t. But he was much nicer than +before. The conversation which he overheard +when he was a cat makes him more patient +with his father and mother. And he is almost +always nice to Mabel, for he cannot forget all +that she was to him when he wore the shape of +Lord Hugh. His father attributes all the +improvement in his son’s character to that week +at Dr. Strongitharm’s—which, as you know, +Maurice never had. Lord Hugh’s character +is unchanged. Cats learn slowly and with +difficulty.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk"><a name="png.041" id="png.041"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">26</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Only Maurice and Lord Hugh know the truth—Maurice +has never told it to any one except +me, and Lord Hugh is a very reserved cat. +He never at any time had that free flow of mew +which distinguished and endangered the cat-hood +of Maurice.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="png.042" id="png.042"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">27</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><b>II</b><br + />THE MIXED MINE</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> ship was first sighted off Dungeness. She +was labouring heavily. Her paint was peculiar +and her rig outlandish. She looked like a +golden ship out of a painted picture.</p> + +<p>‘Blessed if I ever see such a rig—nor such +lines neither,’ old Hawkhurst said.</p> + +<p>It was a late afternoon, wild and grey. +Slate-coloured clouds drove across the sky like +flocks of hurried camels. The waves were +purple and blue, and in the west a streak of +unnatural-looking green light was all that stood +for the splendours of sunset.</p> + +<p>‘She do be a rum ’un,’ said young Benenden, +who had strolled along the beach with the +glasses the gentleman gave him for saving the +little boy from drowning. ‘Don’t know as I +ever see another just like her.’</p> + +<p>‘I’d give half a dollar to any chap as can +tell me where she hails from—and what port +<a name="png.043" id="png.043"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">28</span><span class="ns"> + </span>it is where they has ships o’ that cut,’ said +middle-aged Haversham to the group that had +now gathered.</p> + +<p>‘George!’ exclaimed young Benenden from +under his field-glasses, ‘she’s going.’ And +she went. Her bow went down suddenly and +she stood stern up in the water—like a duck +after rain. Then quite slowly, with no unseemly +hurry, but with no moment’s change of +what seemed to be her fixed purpose, the ship +sank and the grey rolling waves wiped out the +place where she had been.</p> + +<p>Now I hope you will not expect me to tell +you anything more about this ship—because +there is nothing more to tell. What country +she came from, what port she was bound for, +what cargo she carried, and what kind of +tongue her crew spoke—all these things are +dead secrets. And a dead secret is a secret +that nobody knows. No other secrets are +dead secrets. Even I do not know this one, +or I would tell you at once. For I, at least, +have no secrets from you.</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.044" id="png.044"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p28</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-044.png" + width="536" height="700" alt="" title="" /><br + />Her bow went down suddenly.</p> +</div> + +<p>When ships go down off Dungeness, things +from them have a way of being washed up on +the sands of that bay which curves from Dungeness +to Folkestone, where the sea has bitten a +piece out of the land—just such a half-moon-shaped +piece as you bite out of a slice of +<a name="png.046" id="png.046"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">29</span><span class="ns"> + </span>bread-and-butter. Bits of wood tangled with ropes—broken +furniture—ships’ biscuits in barrels and +kegs that have held brandy—seamen’s chests—and +sometimes sadder things that we will not +talk about just now.</p> + +<p>Now, if you live by the sea and are grown-up +you know that if you find anything on the +seashore (I don’t mean starfish or razor-shells +or jellyfish and sea-mice, but anything out of a +ship that you would really like to keep) your +duty is to take it up to the coast-guard and say, +‘Please, I’ve found this.’ Then the coast-guard +will send it to the proper authority, and +one of these days you’ll get a reward of one-third +of the value of whatever it was that you +picked up. But two-thirds of the value of anything, +or even three-thirds of its value, is not +at all the same thing as the thing itself—if it +happened to be the kind of thing you want. +But if you are not grown-up and do not live by +the sea, but in a nice little villa in a nice little +suburb, where all the furniture is new and the +servants wear white aprons and white caps with +long strings in the afternoon, then you won’t +know anything about your duty, and if you find +anything by the sea you’ll think that findings +are keepings.</p> + +<p>Edward was not grown-up—and he kept +everything he found, including sea-mice, till the +<a name="png.047" id="png.047"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">30</span><span class="ns"> + </span>landlady of the lodgings where his aunt was +threw his collection into the pig-pail.</p> + +<p>Being a quiet and persevering little boy he +did not cry or complain, but having meekly +followed his treasures to their long home—the +pig was six feet from nose to tail, and ate the +dead sea-mouse as easily and happily as your +father eats an oyster—he started out to make a +new collection.</p> + +<p>And the first thing he found was an oyster-shell +that was pink and green and blue inside, +and the second was an old boot—very old +indeed—and the third was <em>it</em>.</p> + +<p>It was a square case of old leather embossed +with odd little figures of men and animals and +words that Edward could not read. It was +oblong and had no key, but a sort of leather +hasp, and was curiously knotted with string—rather +like a boot-lace. And Edward opened +it. There were several things inside: queer-looking +instruments, some rather like those in +the little box of mathematical instruments that +he had had as a prize at school, and some like +nothing he had ever seen before. And in a +deep groove of the russet soaked velvet lining +lay a neat little brass telescope.</p> + +<p>T-squares and set-squares and so forth are +of little use on a sandy shore. But you can +always look through a telescope.</p> + +<p><a name="png.048" id="png.048"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">31</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Edward picked it out and put it to his eye, +and tried to see through it a little tug that was +sturdily puffing up Channel. He failed to find +the tug, and found himself gazing at a little +cloud on the horizon. As he looked it grew +larger and darker, and presently a spot of rain +fell on his nose. He rubbed it off—on his +jersey sleeve, I am sorry to say, and not on his +handkerchief. Then he looked through the +glass again; but he found he needed both +hands to keep it steady, so he set down the +box with the other instruments on the sand +at his feet and put the glass to his eye +again.</p> + +<p>He never saw the box again. For in his +unpractised efforts to cover the tug with his +glass he found himself looking at the shore +instead of at the sea, and the shore looked so +odd that he could not make up his mind to stop +looking at it.</p> + +<p>He had thought it was a sandy shore, but +almost at once he saw that it was not sand but +fine shingle, and the discovery of this mistake +surprised him so much that he kept on looking +at the shingle through the little telescope, which +showed it quite plainly. And as he looked the +shingle grew coarser; it was stones now—quite +decent-sized stones, large stones, enormous +stones.</p> + +<p><a name="png.049" id="png.049"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">32</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Something hard pressed against his foot, +and he lowered the glass.</p> + +<p>He was surrounded by big stones, and they +all seemed to be moving; some were tumbling +off others that lay in heaps below them, and +others were rolling away from the beach in +every direction. And the place where he had +put down the box was covered with great stones +which he could not move.</p> + +<p>Edward was very much upset. He had +never been accustomed to great stones that +moved about when no one was touching them, +and he looked round for some one to ask how it +had happened.</p> + +<p>The only person in sight was another boy +in a blue jersey with red letters on its chest.</p> + +<p>‘Hi!’ said Edward, and the boy also said +‘Hi!’</p> + +<p>‘Come along here,’ said Edward, ‘and I’ll +show you something.’</p> + +<p>‘Right-o!’ the boy remarked, and came.</p> + +<p>The boy was staying at the camp where the +white tents were below the Grand Redoubt. +His home was quite unlike Edward’s, though +he also lived with his aunt. The boy’s home +was very dirty and very small, and nothing in +it was ever in its right place. There was no +furniture to speak of. The servants did not +wear white caps with long streamers, because +<a name="png.050" id="png.050"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">33</span><span class="ns"> + </span>there were no servants. His uncle was a dock-labourer +and his aunt went out washing. But +he had felt just the same pleasure in being +shown things that Edward or you or I might +have felt, and he went climbing over the big +stones to where Edward stood waiting for him +in a sort of pit among the stones with the little +telescope in his hand.</p> + +<p>‘I say,’ said Edward, ‘did you see any one +move these stones?’</p> + +<p>‘I ain’t only just come up on to the sea-wall,’ +said the boy, who was called Gustus.</p> + +<p>‘They all came round me,’ said Edward, +rather pale. ‘I didn’t see any one shoving +them.’</p> + +<p>‘Who’re you a-kiddin’ of?’ the boy inquired.</p> + +<p>‘But I <em>did</em>,’ said Edward, ‘honour bright I +did. I was just taking a squint through this +little telescope I’ve found—and they came +rolling up to me.’</p> + +<p>‘Let’s see what you found,’ said Gustus, +and Edward gave him the glass. He directed +it with inexpert fingers to the sea-wall, so little +trodden that on it the grass grows, and the +sea-pinks, and even convolvulus and mock-strawberry.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, look!’ cried Edward, very loud. +‘Look at the grass!’</p> + +<p><a name="png.051" id="png.051"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">34</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Gustus let the glass fall to long arm’s length +and said ‘Krikey!’</p> + +<p>The grass and flowers on the sea-wall had +grown a foot and a half—quite tropical they +looked.</p> + +<p>‘Well?’ said Edward.</p> + +<p>‘What’s the matter wiv everyfink?’ said +Gustus. ‘We must both be a bit balmy, +seems ter me.’</p> + +<p>‘What’s balmy?’ asked Edward.</p> + +<p>‘Off your chump—looney—like what you +and me is,’ said Gustus. ‘First I sees things, +then I sees you.’</p> + +<p>‘It was only fancy, I expect,’ said Edward. +‘I expect the grass on the sea-wall was always +like that, really.’</p> + +<p>‘Let’s have a look through your spy-glass at +that little barge,’ said Gustus, still holding the +glass. ‘Come on outer these ’ere paving-stones.’</p> + +<p>‘There was a box,’ said Edward, ‘a box I +found with lots of jolly things in it. I laid it +down somewhere—<span class="nw">and——’</span></p> + +<p>‘Ain’t that it over there?’ Gustus asked, +and levelled the glass at a dark object a +hundred yards away. ‘No; it’s only an old +boot. I say, this is a fine spy-glass. It does +make things come big.’</p> + +<p>‘That’s not it. I’m certain I put it down +somewhere just here. Oh, <em>don’t</em>!’</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.053" id="png.053"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p35</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-053.png" + width="650" height="358" alt="" title="" /><br + />‘Look!’ he said, ‘look!’ and pointed.</p> +</div> + +<p><a name="png.054" id="png.054"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">35</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>He snatched the glass from Gustus.</p> + +<p>‘Look!’ he said, ‘look!’ and pointed.</p> + +<p>A hundred yards away stood a boot about +as big as the bath you see Marat in at +Madame Tussaud’s.</p> + +<p>‘S’welp me,’ said Gustus, ‘we’re asleep, +both of us, and a-dreaming as things grow +while we look at them.’</p> + +<p>‘But we’re not dreaming,’ Edward objected. +‘You let me pinch you and you’ll see.’</p> + +<p>‘No fun in that,’ said Gustus. ‘Tell you +what—it’s the spy-glass—that’s what it is. +Ever see any conjuring? I see a chap at the +Mile End Empire what made things turn into +things like winking. It’s the spy-glass, that’s +what it is.’</p> + +<p>‘It can’t be,’ said the little boy who lived +in a villa.</p> + +<p>‘But it <em>is</em>,’ said the little boy who lived in +a slum. ‘Teacher says there ain’t no bounds +to the wonders of science. Blest if this ain’t +one of ’em.’</p> + +<p>‘Let me look,’ said Edward.</p> + +<p>‘All right; only you mark me. Whatever +you sets eyes on’ll grow and grow—like the +flower-tree the conjurer had under the wipe. +Don’t you look at <em>me</em>, that’s all. Hold on; I’ll +put something up for you to look at—a mark +like—something as doesn’t matter.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.055" id="png.055"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">36</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a +boot-lace.</p> + +<p>‘I hold this up,’ he said, ‘and you look.’</p> + +<p>Next moment he had dropped the boot-lace, +which, swollen as it was with the magic of the +glass, lay like a snake on the stone at his feet.</p> + +<p>So the glass <em>was</em> a magic glass, as, of course, +you know already.</p> + +<p>‘My!’ said Gustus, ‘wouldn’t I like to +look at my victuals through that there!’</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns"/>Thus we find Edward, of the villa—and +through him Gustus, of the slum—in possession +of a unique instrument of magic. What could +they do with it?</p> + +<p>This was the question which they talked +over every time they met, and they met continually. +Edward’s aunt, who at home watched +him as cats watch mice, rashly believed that at +the seaside there was no mischief for a boy to +get into. And the gentleman who commanded +the tented camp believed in the ennobling effects +of liberty.</p> + +<p>After the boot, neither had dared to look at +anything through the telescope—and so they +looked <em>at</em> it, and polished it on their sleeves till +it shone again.</p> + +<p>Both were agreed that it would be a fine +thing to get some money and look at it, so that +<a name="png.056" id="png.056"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">37</span><span class="ns"> + </span>it would grow big. But Gustus never had any +pocket-money, and Edward had had his confiscated +to pay for a window he had not intended +to break.</p> + +<p>Gustus felt certain that some one would find +out about the spy-glass and take it away from +them. His experience was that anything you +happened to like was always taken away. +Edward knew that his aunt would want to take +the telescope away to ‘take care of’ for him. +This had already happened with the carved +chessmen that his father had sent him from +India.</p> + +<p>‘I been thinking,’ said Gustus, on the third +day. ‘When I’m a man I’m a-going to be a +burglar. You has to use your headpiece in +that trade, I tell you. So I don’t think thinking’s +swipes, like some blokes do. And I think +p’r’aps it don’t turn everything big. An’ if we +could find out what it don’t turn big we could +see what we wanted to turn big or what it +didn’t turn big, and then it wouldn’t turn anything +big except what we wanted it to. See?’</p> + +<p>Edward did not see; and I don’t suppose +you do, either.</p> + +<p>So Gustus went on to explain that teacher +had told him there were some substances +impervious to light, and some to cold, and +so on and so forth, and that what they wanted +<a name="png.057" id="png.057"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">38</span><span class="ns"> + </span>was a substance that should be impervious +to the magic effects of the spy-glass.</p> + +<p>‘So if we get a tanner and set it on a +plate and squint at it it’ll get bigger—but +so’ll the plate. And we don’t want to litter +the place up with plates the bigness of cartwheels. +But if the plate didn’t get big we +could look at the tanner till it covered the +plate, and then go on looking and looking +and looking and see nothing but the tanner +till it was as big as a circus. See?’</p> + +<p>This time Edward did see. But they got +no further, because it was time to go to the +circus. There was a circus at Dymchurch +just then, and that was what made Gustus +think of the sixpence growing to that size.</p> + +<p>It was a very nice circus, and all the boys +from the camp went to it—also Edward, who +managed to scramble over and wriggle under +benches till he was sitting near his friend.</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.059" id="png.059"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p39</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-059.png" + width="333" height="700" alt="" title="" /><br + />Far above him and every one else towered the elephant.</p> +</div> + +<p>It was the size of the elephant that did it. +Edward had not seen an elephant before, +and when he saw it, instead of saying, ‘What +a size he is!’ as everybody else did, he said +to himself, ‘What a size I could make him!’ +and pulled out the spy-glass, and by a miracle +of good luck or bad got it levelled at the +elephant as it went by. He turned the glass +slowly—as it went out—and the elephant +<a name="png.060" id="png.060"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">39</span><span class="ns"> + </span>only just got out in time. Another moment +and it would have been too big to get through +the door. The audience cheered madly. +They thought it was a clever trick; and so it +would have been, very clever.</p> + +<p>‘You silly cuckoo,’ said Gustus, bitterly, +‘now you’ve turned that great thing loose on +the country, and how’s his keeper to manage +him?’</p> + +<p>‘I could make the keeper big, too.’</p> + +<p>‘Then if I was you I should just bunk +out and do it.’</p> + +<p>Edward obeyed, slipped under the canvas +of the circus tent, and found himself on the +yellow, trampled grass of the field among +guy-ropes, orange-peel, banana-skins, and +dirty paper. Far above him and every one +else towered the elephant—it was now as big +as the church.</p> + +<p>Edward pointed the glass at the man who +was patting the elephant’s foot—that was as +far up as he could reach—and telling it to +‘Come down with you!’ He was very +much frightened. He did not know whether +you could be put in prison for making an +elephant’s keeper about forty times his proper +size. But he felt that something must be done +to control the gigantic mountain of black-lead-coloured +living flesh. So he looked +<a name="png.061" id="png.061"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">40</span><span class="ns"> + </span>at the keeper through the spy-glass, and the +keeper remained his normal size!</p> + +<p>In the shock of this failure he dropped the +spy-glass, picked it up, and tried once more +to fix the keeper. Instead he only got a +circle of black-lead-coloured elephant; and +while he was trying to find the keeper, and +finding nothing but more and more of the +elephant, a shout startled him and he dropped +the glass once more. He was a very clumsy +little boy, was Edward.</p> + +<p>‘Well,’ said one of the men, ‘what a +turn it give me! I thought Jumbo’d grown as +big as a railway station, s’welp me if I didn’t.’</p> + +<p>‘Now that’s rum,’ said another, ‘so did I.’</p> + +<p>‘And he <em>ain’t</em>,’ said a third; ‘seems to me +he’s a bit below his usual figure. Got a bit +thin or somethink, ain’t he?’</p> + +<p>Edward slipped back into the tent unobserved.</p> + +<p>‘It’s all right,’ he whispered to his friend, +‘he’s gone back to his proper size, and the +man didn’t change at all.’</p> + +<p>‘Ho!’ Gustus said slowly—‘Ho! All +right. Conjuring’s a rum thing. You don’t +never know where you are!’</p> + +<p>‘Don’t you think you might as well be a +conjurer as a burglar?’ suggested Edward, +who had had his friend’s criminal future rather +painfully on his mind for the last hour.</p> + +<p><a name="png.062" id="png.062"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">41</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘<em>You</em> might,’ said Gustus, ‘not me. My +people ain’t dooks to set me up on any such +a swell lay as conjuring. Now I’m going to +think, I am. You hold your jaw and look at +the ’andsome Dona a-doin’ of ’er griceful barebacked +hact.’</p> + +<p>That evening after tea Edward went, as he +had been told to do, to the place on the shore +where the big stones had taught him the magic +of the spy-glass.</p> + +<p>Gustus was already at the tryst.</p> + +<p>‘See here,’ he said, ‘I’m a-goin’ to do +something brave and fearless, I am, like Lord +Nelson and the boy on the fire-ship. You +out with that spy-glass, an’ I’ll let you +look at <em>me</em>. Then we’ll know where we +are.’</p> + +<p>‘But s’pose you turn into a giant?’</p> + +<p>‘Don’t care. ‘Sides, I shan’t. T’other +bloke didn’t.’</p> + +<p>‘P’r’aps,’ said Edward, cautiously, ‘it only +works by the seashore.’</p> + +<p>‘Ah,’ said Gustus, reproachfully, ‘you’ve +been a-trying to think, that’s what you’ve been +a-doing. What about the elephant, my emernent +scientister? Now, then!’</p> + +<p>Very much afraid, Edward pulled out the +glass and looked.</p> + +<p>And nothing happened.</p> + +<p><a name="png.063" id="png.063"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">42</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘That’s number one,’ said Gustus, ‘now, +number two.’</p> + +<p>He snatched the telescope from Edward’s +hand, and turned it round and looked through +the other end at the great stones. Edward, +standing by, saw them get smaller and smaller—turn +to pebbles, to beach, to sand. When +Gustus turned the glass to the giant grass and +flowers on the sea-wall, they also drew back +into themselves, got smaller and smaller, and +presently were as they had been before ever +Edward picked up the magic spy-glass.</p> + +<p>‘Now we know all about it—I <em>don’t</em> think,’ +said Gustus. ‘To-morrow we’ll have a look at +that there model engine of yours that you say +works.’</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.064" id="png.064"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p42</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-064.png" + width="393" height="700" alt="" title="" /><br + />It became a quite efficient motor.</p> +</div> + +<p>They did. They had a look at it through +the spy-glass, and it became a quite efficient +motor; of rather an odd pattern it is true, and +very bumpy, but capable of quite a decent speed. +They went up to the hills in it, and so odd was +its design that no one who saw it ever forgot it. +People talk about that rummy motor at Bonnington +and Aldington to this day. They +stopped often, to use the spy-glass on various +objects. Trees, for instance, could be made to +grow surprisingly, and there were patches of +giant wheat found that year near Ashford that +were never satisfactorily accounted for. Blackberries, +<a name="png.066" id="png.066"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">43</span><span class="ns"> + </span>too, could be enlarged to a most +wonderful and delicious fruit. And the sudden +growth of a fugitive toffee-drop found in +Edward’s pocket and placed on the hand +was a happy surprise. When you scraped +the pocket dirt off the outside you had a +pound of delicious toffee. Not so happy was +the incident of the earwig, which crawled into +view when Edward was enlarging a wild strawberry, +and had grown the size of a rat before +the slow but horrified Edward gained courage +to shake it off.</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful drive. As they came +home they met a woman driving a weak-looking +little cow. It went by on one side of the +engine and the woman went by on the other. +When they were restored to each other the +cow was nearly the size of a cart-horse, and the +woman did not recognise it. She ran back +along the road after her cow, which must, she +said, have taken fright at the beastly motor. +She scolded violently as she went. So the +boys had to make the cow small again, when +she wasn’t looking.</p> + +<p>‘This is all very well,’ said Gustus, ‘but +we’ve got our fortune to make, I don’t think. +We’ve got to get hold of a tanner—or a bob +would be better.’</p> + +<p>But this was not possible, because that +<a name="png.067" id="png.067"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">44</span><span class="ns"> + </span>broken window wasn’t paid for, and Gustus +never had any money.</p> + +<p>‘We ought to be the benefactors of the +human race,’ said Edward; ‘make all the good +things more and all the bad things less.’</p> + +<p>And <em>that</em> was all very well—but the cow +hadn’t been a great success, as Gustus reminded +him.</p> + +<p>‘I see I shall have to do some of my +thinking,’ he added.</p> + +<p>They stopped in a quiet road close by +Dymchurch; the engine was made small again, +and Edward went home with it under his arm.</p> + +<p>It was the next day that they found the +shilling on the road. They could hardly +believe their good luck. They went out on +to the shore with it, put it on Edward’s hand +while Gustus looked at it with the glass, and +the shilling began to grow.</p> + +<p>‘It’s as big as a saucer,’ said Edward, ‘and +it’s heavy. I’ll rest it on these stones. It’s as +big as a plate; it’s as big as a tea-tray; it’s as +big as a cart-wheel.’</p> + +<p>And it was.</p> + +<p>‘Now,’ said Gustus, ‘we’ll go and borrow a +cart to take it away. Come on.’</p> + +<p>But Edward could not come on. His hand +was in the hollow between the two stones, and +above lay tons of silver. He could not move, +<a name="png.068" id="png.068"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">45</span><span class="ns"> + </span>and the stones couldn’t move. There was +nothing for it but to look at the great round +lump of silver through the wrong end of the +spy-glass till it got small enough for Edward +to lift it. And then, unfortunately, Gustus +looked a little too long, and the shilling, having +gone back to its own size, went a little further—and +it went to sixpenny size, and then went +out altogether.</p> + +<p>So nobody got anything by that.</p> + +<p>And now came the time when, as was to be +expected, Edward dropped the telescope in his +aunt’s presence. She said, ‘What’s that?’ +picked it up with quite unfair quickness, and +looked through it, and through the open window +at a fishing-boat, which instantly swelled to the +size of a man-of-war.</p> + +<p>‘My goodness! what a strong glass!’ said +the aunt.</p> + +<p>‘Isn’t it?’ said Edward, gently taking it +from her. He looked at the ship through the +glass’s other end till she got to her proper size +again and then smaller. He just stopped in +time to prevent its disappearing altogether.</p> + +<p>‘I’ll take care of it for you,’ said the aunt. +And for the first time in their lives Edward +said ‘No’ to his aunt.</p> + +<p>It was a terrible moment.</p> + +<p>Edward, quite frenzied by his own courage, +<a name="png.069" id="png.069"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">46</span><span class="ns"> + </span>turned the glass on one object after another—the +furniture grew as he looked, and when +he lowered the glass the aunt was pinned +fast between a monster table-leg and a great +chiffonier.</p> + +<p>‘There!’ said Edward. ‘And I shan’t let +you out till you say you won’t take it to take +care of either.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, have it your own way,’ said the +aunt, faintly, and closed her eyes. When she +opened them the furniture was its right size +and Edward was gone. He had twinges of +conscience, but the aunt never mentioned the +subject again. I have reason to suppose that +<em>she</em> supposed that she had had a fit of an +unusual and alarming nature.</p> + +<p>Next day the boys in the camp were to go +back to their slums. Edward and Gustus +parted on the seashore and Edward cried. +He had never met a boy whom he liked as +he liked Gustus. And Gustus himself was +almost melted.</p> + +<p>‘I will say for you you’re more like a man +and less like a snivelling white rabbit now than +what you was when I met you. Well, we +ain’t done nothing to speak of with that there +conjuring trick of yours, but we’ve ’ad a right +good time. So long. See you ’gain some +day.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.070" id="png.070"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">47</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Edward hesitated, spluttered, and still weeping +flung his arms round Gustus.</p> + +<p>‘‘Ere, none o’ that,’ said Gustus, sternly. +‘If you ain’t man enough to know better, I am. +Shake ’ands like a Briton; right about face—and +part game.’</p> + +<p>He suited the action to the word.</p> + +<p>Edward went back to his aunt snivelling, +defenceless but happy. He had never had a +friend except Gustus, and now he had given +Gustus the greatest treasure that he possessed.</p> + +<p>For Edward was not such a white rabbit as +he seemed. And in that last embrace he had +managed to slip the little telescope into the +pocket of the reefer coat which Gustus wore, +ready for his journey.</p> + +<p>It was the greatest treasure that Edward +had, but it was also the greatest responsibility, +so that while he felt the joy of self-sacrifice he +also felt the rapture of relief. Life is full of +such mixed moments.</p> + +<p>And the holidays ended and Edward went +back to his villa. Be sure he had given Gustus +his home address, and begged him to write, but +Gustus never did.</p> + +<p>Presently Edward’s father came home from +India, and they left his aunt to her villa and +went to live at a jolly little house on a sloping +hill at Chiselhurst, which was Edward’s father’s +<a name="png.071" id="png.071"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">48</span><span class="ns"> + </span>very own. They were not rich, and Edward +could not go to a very good school, and though +there was enough to eat and wear, what there +was was very plain. And Edward’s father had +been wounded, and somehow had not got a +pension.</p> + +<p>Now one night in the next summer Edward +woke up in his bed with the feeling that there +was some one in the room. And there was. +A dark figure was squeezing itself through the +window. Edward was far too frightened to +scream. He simply lay and listened to his +heart. It was like listening to a cheap American +clock. The next moment a lantern flashed in +his eyes and a masked face bent over him.</p> + +<p>‘Where does your father keep his money?’ +said a muffled voice.</p> + +<p>‘In the b-b-b-b-bank,’ replied the wretched +Edward, truthfully.</p> + +<p>‘I mean what he’s got in the house.’</p> + +<p>‘In his trousers pocket,’ said Edward, ‘only +he puts it in the dressing-table drawer at night.’</p> + +<p>‘You must go and get it,’ said the burglar, +for such he plainly was.</p> + +<p>‘Must I?’ said Edward, wondering how +he could get out of betraying his father’s confidence +and being branded as a criminal.</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ said the burglar in an awful voice, +‘get up and go.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.072" id="png.072"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">49</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘<em>No</em>,’ said Edward, and he was as much +surprised at his courage as you are.</p> + +<p>‘Bravo!’ said the burglar, flinging off his +mask. ‘I see you <em>aren’t</em> such a white rabbit +as what I thought you.’</p> + +<p>‘It’s Gustus,’ said Edward. ‘Oh, Gustus, +I’m so glad! Oh, Gustus, I’m so sorry! I +always hoped you wouldn’t be a burglar. And +now you are.’</p> + +<p>‘I am so,’ said Gustus, with pride, ‘but,’ he +added sadly, ‘this is my first burglary.’</p> + +<p>‘Couldn’t it be the last?’ suggested Edward.</p> + +<p>‘That,’ replied Gustus, ‘depends on you.’</p> + +<p>‘I’ll do anything,’ said Edward, ‘anything.’</p> + +<p>‘You see,’ said Gustus, sitting down on the +edge of the bed in a confidential attitude, with +the dark lantern in one hand and the mask in +the other, ‘when you’re as hard up as we are, +there’s not much of a living to be made honest. +I’m sure I wonder we don’t all of us turn +burglars, so I do. And that glass of yours—you +little beggar—you did me proper—sticking +of that thing in my pocket like what you did. +Well, it kept us alive last winter, that’s a cert. +I used to look at the victuals with it, like what +I said I would. A farden’s worth o’ pease-pudden +was a dinner for three when that glass +was about, and a penn’orth o’ scraps turned into +a big beef-steak almost. They used to wonder +<a name="png.073" id="png.073"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">50</span><span class="ns"> + </span>how I got so much for the money. But I’m +always afraid o’ being found out—or of losing +the blessed spy-glass—or of some one pinching +it. So we got to do what I always said—make +some use of it. And if I go along and nick +your father’s dibs we’ll make our fortunes right +away.’</p> + +<p>‘No,’ said Edward, ‘but I’ll ask father.’</p> + +<p>‘Rot.’ Gustus was crisp and contemptuous. +‘He’d think you was off your chump, and he’d +get me lagged.’</p> + +<p>‘It would be stealing,’ said Edward.</p> + +<p>‘Not when you’ll pay it back.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, it would,’ said Edward. ‘Oh, don’t +ask me—I can’t.’</p> + +<p>‘Then I shall,’ said Gustus. ‘Where’s his +room.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, don’t!’ said Edward. ‘I’ve got a +half-sovereign of my own. I’ll give you that.’</p> + +<p>‘Lawk!’ said Gustus. ‘Why the blue +monkeys couldn’t you say so? Come on.’</p> + +<p>He pulled Edward out of bed by the leg, +hurried his clothes on anyhow, and half-dragged, +half-coaxed him through the window and down +by the ivy and the chicken-house roof.</p> + +<p>They stood face to face in the sloping +garden and Edward’s teeth chattered. Gustus +caught him by his hand, and led him away.</p> + +<p>At the other end of the shrubbery, where +<a name="png.074" id="png.074"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">51</span><span class="ns"> + </span>the rockery was, Gustus stooped and dragged +out a big clinker—then another, and another. +There was a hole like a big rabbit-hole. If +Edward had really been a white rabbit it +would just have fitted him.</p> + +<p>‘I’ll go first,’ said Gustus, and went, head-foremost. +‘Come on,’ he said, hollowly, +from inside. And Edward, too, went. It +was dreadful crawling into that damp hole in +the dark. As his head got through the hole +he saw that it led to a cave, and below him +stood a dark figure. The lantern was on the +ground.</p> + +<p>‘Come on,’ said Gustus, ‘I’ll catch you +if you fall.’</p> + +<p>With a rush and a scramble Edward got +in.</p> + +<p>‘It’s caves,’ said Gustus. ‘A chap I know +that goes about the country bottoming cane-chairs, +’e told me about it. And I nosed +about and found he lived here. So then I +thought what a go. So now we’ll put your +half-shiner down and look at it, and we’ll +have a gold-mine, and you can pretend to +find it.’</p> + +<p>‘Halves!’ said Edward, briefly and firmly.</p> + +<p>‘You’re a man,’ said Gustus. ‘Now, +then!’ He led the way through a maze of +chalk caves till they came to a convenient +<a name="png.075" id="png.075"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">52</span><span class="ns"> + </span>spot, which he had marked. And now +Edward emptied his pockets on the sand—he +had brought all the contents of his money-box, +and there was more silver than gold, +and more copper than either, and more odd +rubbish than there was anything else. You +know what a boy’s pockets are like. Stones +and putty, and slate-pencils and marbles—I +urge in excuse that Edward was a very +little boy—a bit of plasticine, one or two bits +of wood.</p> + +<p>‘No time to sort ’em,’ said Gustus, and, +putting the lantern in a suitable position, he +got out the glass and began to look through it +at the tumbled heap.</p> + +<p>And the heap began to grow. It grew out +sideways till it touched the walls of the +recess, and outwards till it touched the top of +the recess, and then it slowly worked out +into the big cave and came nearer and nearer +to the boys. Everything grew—stones, putty, +money, wood, plasticine.</p> + +<p>Edward patted the growing mass as though +it were alive and he loved it, and Gustus said:</p> + +<p>‘Here’s clothes, and beef, and bread, and +tea, and coffee—and baccy—and a good +school, and me a engineer. I see it all +a-growing and a-growing.’</p> + +<p>‘Hi—stop!’ said Edward suddenly.</p> + +<p><a name="png.076" id="png.076"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">53</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Gustus dropped the telescope. It rolled +away into the darkness.</p> + +<p>‘Now you’ve done it,’ said Edward.</p> + +<p>‘What?’ said Gustus.</p> + +<p>‘My hand,’ said Edward, ‘it’s fast between +the rock and the gold and things. Find the +glass and make it go smaller so that I can get +my hand out.’</p> + +<p>But Gustus could not find the glass. And, +what is more, no one ever has found it to this +day.</p> + +<p>‘It’s no good,’ said Gustus, at last. ‘I’ll go +and find your father. They must come and +dig you out of this precious Tom Tiddler’s +ground.’</p> + +<p>‘And they’ll lag you if they see you. You +said they would,’ said Edward, not at all sure +what lagging was, but sure that it was something +dreadful. ‘Write a letter and put it in +his letter-box. They’ll find it in the morning.’</p> + +<p>‘And leave you pinned by the hand all +night? Likely—I <em>don’t</em> think,’ said Gustus.</p> + +<p>‘I’d rather,’ said Edward, bravely, but his +voice was weak. ‘I couldn’t bear you to be +lagged, Gustus. I do love you so.’</p> + +<p>‘None of that,’ said Gustus, sternly. ‘I’ll +leave you the lamp; I can find my way with +matches. Keep up your pecker, and never +say die.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.077" id="png.077"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">54</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘I won’t,’ said Edward, bravely. ‘Oh, +Gustus!’</p> + + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns"/>That was how it happened that Edward’s +father was roused from slumbers by violent +shakings from an unknown hand, while an +unknown voice uttered these surprising +words:—</p> + +<p>‘Edward is in the gold and silver and +copper mine that we’ve found under your +garden. Come and get him out.’</p> + +<p>When Edward’s father was at last persuaded +that Gustus was not a silly dream—and this +took some time—he got up.</p> + +<p>He did not believe a word that Gustus said, +even when Gustus added ‘S’welp me!’ which +he did several times.</p> + +<p>But Edward’s bed was empty—his clothes +gone.</p> + +<p>Edward’s father got the gardener from next +door—with, at the suggestion of Gustus, a pick—the +hole in the rockery was enlarged, and +they all got in.</p> + +<p>And when they got to the place where +Edward was, there, sure enough, was Edward, +pinned by the hand between a piece of wood +and a piece of rock. Neither the father nor +the gardener noticed any metal. Edward had +fainted.</p> + +<p><a name="png.078" id="png.078"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">55</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>They got him out; a couple of strokes with +the pick released his hand, but it was bruised +and bleeding.</p> + +<p>They all turned to go, but they had not +gone twenty yards before there was a crash +and a loud report like thunder, and a slow +rumbling, rattling noise very dreadful to +hear.</p> + +<p>‘Get out of this quick, sir,’ said the gardener; +‘the roof’s fell in; this part of the +caves ain’t safe.’</p> + +<p>Edward was very feverish and ill for several +days, during which he told his father the whole +story—of which his father did not believe a +word. But he was kind to Gustus, because +Gustus was evidently fond of Edward.</p> + +<p>When Edward was well enough to walk +in the garden his father and he found that a +good deal of the shrubbery had sunk, so that +the trees looked as though they were growing +in a pit.</p> + +<p>It spoiled the look of the garden, and +Edward’s father decided to move the trees to +the other side.</p> + +<p>When this was done the first tree uprooted +showed a dark hollow below it. The man is +not born who will not examine and explore a +dark hollow in his own grounds. So Edward’s +father explored.</p> + +<p><a name="png.079" id="png.079"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">56</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>This is the true story of the discovery of +that extraordinary vein of silver, copper, and +gold which has excited so much interest in +scientific and mining circles. Learned papers +have been written about it, learned professors +have been rude to each other about it, but no +one knows how it came there except Gustus +and Edward and you and me. Edward’s father +is quite as ignorant as any one else, but he is +much richer than most of them; and, at any +rate, he knows that it was Gustus who first told +him of the gold-mine, and who risked being +lagged—arrested by the police, that is—rather +than let Edward wait till morning with his +hand fast between wood and rock.</p> + +<p>So Edward and Gustus have been to a +good school, and now they are at Winchester, +and presently they will be at Oxford. And +when Gustus is twenty-one he will have half +the money that came from the gold-mine. +And then he and Edward mean to start a +school of their own. And the boys who are to +go to it are to be the sort of boys who go to +the summer camp of the Grand Redoubt near +the sea—the kind of boy that Gustus was.</p> + +<p>So the spy-glass will do some good after +all, though it <em>was</em> so unmanageable to begin +with.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it may even be found again. But +<a name="png.080" id="png.080"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">57</span><span class="ns"> + </span>I rather hope it won’t. It might, really, have +done much more mischief than it did—and if +any one found it, it might do more yet.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">There is no moral to this story, except…. +But no—there is no moral.</p> + + + +<div class="illus xtratop pgbrk"> +<p><a name="png.082" id="png.082"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p58</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-082.png" + width="650" height="660" alt="" title="" /><br + />Quentin de Ward.</p> +</div> + +<h2><a name="png.081" id="png.081"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">58</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><b>III</b><br + />ACCIDENTAL MAGIC; OR DON’T + TELL <span class="nw">ALL YOU KNOW</span></h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Quentin de Ward</span> was rather a nice little boy, +but he had never been with other little boys, +and that made him in some ways a little different +from other little boys. His father was in India, +and he and his mother lived in a little house in +the New Forest. The house—it was a cottage +really, but even a cottage is a house, isn’t it?—was +very pretty and thatched and had a porch +covered with honeysuckle and ivy and white +roses, and straight red hollyhocks were trained +to stand up in a row against the south wall of +it. The two lived quite alone, and as they had +no one else to talk to they talked to each other +a good deal. Mrs. de Ward read a great many +books, and she used to tell Quentin about them +afterwards. They were usually books about +out of the way things, for Mrs. de Ward was +interested in all the things that people are not +quite sure about—the things that are hidden +<a name="png.084" id="png.084"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">59</span><span class="ns"> + </span>and secret, wonderful and mysterious—the +things people make discoveries about. So that +when the two were having their tea on the little +brick terrace in front of the hollyhocks, with +the white cloth flapping in the breeze, and the +wasps hovering round the jam-pot, it was no +uncommon thing for Quentin to say thickly +through his bread and jam:—</p> + +<p>‘I say, mother, tell me some more about +Atlantis.’ Or, ‘Mother, tell me some more +about ancient Egypt and the little toy-boats +they made for their little boys.’ Or, ‘Mother, +tell me about the people who think Lord Bacon +wrote Shakespeare.’</p> + +<p>And his mother always told him as much +as she thought he could understand, and he +always understood quite half of what she told +him.</p> + +<p>They always talked the things out thoroughly, +and thus he learned to be fond of arguing, and +to enjoy using his brains, just as you enjoy +using your muscles in the football field or the +gymnasium.</p> + +<p>Also he came to know quite a lot of odd, +out of the way things, and to have opinions of +his own concerning the lost Kingdom of +Atlantis, and the Man with the Iron Mask, +the building of Stonehenge, the Pre-dynastic +Egyptians, cuneiform writings and Assyrian +<a name="png.085" id="png.085"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">60</span><span class="ns"> + </span>sculptures, the Mexican pyramids and the +shipping activities of Tyre and Sidon.</p> + +<p>Quentin did no regular lessons, such as most +boys have, but he read all sorts of books and +made notes from them, in a large and straggling +handwriting.</p> + +<p>You will already have supposed that Quentin +was a prig. But he wasn’t, and you would +have owned this if you had seen him scampering +through the greenwood on his quiet New +Forest pony, or setting snares for the rabbits +that <em>would</em> get into the garden and eat the +precious lettuces and parsley. Also he fished +in the little streams that run through that lovely +land, and shot with a bow and arrows. And +he was a very good shot too.</p> + +<p>Besides this he collected stamps and birds’ +eggs and picture post-cards, and kept guinea-pigs +and bantams, and climbed trees and tore his +clothes in twenty different ways. And once he +fought the grocer’s boy and got licked and didn’t +cry, and made friends with the grocer’s boy +afterwards, and got him to show him all he +knew about fighting, so you see he was really not +a mug. He was ten years old and he had +enjoyed every moment of his ten years, even +the sleeping ones, because he always dreamed +jolly dreams, though he could not always +remember what they were.</p> + +<p><a name="png.086" id="png.086"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">61</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>I tell you all this so that you may understand +why he said what he did when his +mother broke the news to him.</p> + +<p>He was sitting by the stream that ran along +the end of the garden, making bricks of the +clay that the stream’s banks were made of. He +dried them in the sun, and then baked them +under the kitchen stove. (It is quite a good +way to make bricks—you might try it sometimes.) +His mother came out, looking just as +usual, in her pink cotton gown and her pink +sunbonnet; and she had a letter in her hand.</p> + +<p>‘Hullo, boy of my heart,’ she said, ‘very +busy?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ said Quentin importantly, not looking +up, and going on with his work. ‘I’m making +stones to build Stonehenge with. You’ll show +me how to build it, won’t you, mother.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, dear,’ she said absently. ‘Yes, if I +can.’</p> + +<p>‘Of course you can,’ he said, ‘you can do +everything.’</p> + +<p>She sat down on a tuft of grass near him.</p> + +<p>‘Quentin dear,’ she said, and something in +her voice made him look up suddenly.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, mother, what is it?’ he asked.</p> + +<p>‘Daddy’s been wounded,’ she said; ‘he’s all +right now, dear—don’t be frightened. Only +I’ve got to go out to him. I shall meet him in +<a name="png.087" id="png.087"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">62</span><span class="ns"> + </span>Egypt. And you must go to school in Salisbury, +a very nice school, dear, till I come back.’</p> + +<p>‘Can’t I come too?’ he asked.</p> + +<p>And when he understood that he could not +he went on with the bricks in silence, with his +mouth shut very tight.</p> + +<p>After a moment he said, ‘Salisbury? Then +I shall see Stonehenge?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ said his mother, pleased that he took +the news so calmly, ‘you will be sure to see +Stonehenge some time.’</p> + +<p>He stood still, looking down at the little +mould of clay in his hand—so still that his +mother got up and came close to him.</p> + +<p>‘Quentin,’ she said, ‘darling, what is it?’</p> + +<p>He leaned his head against her.</p> + +<p>‘I won’t make a fuss,’ he said, ‘but you can’t +begin to be brave the very first minute. Or, if +you do, you can’t go on being.’</p> + +<p>And with that he began to cry, though he +had not cried after the affair of the grocer’s boy.</p> + +<div class="blockq fivestar">* * * * *</div> + +<p>The thought of school was not so terrible to +Quentin as Mrs. de Ward had thought it +would be. In fact, he rather liked it, with half +his mind; but the other half didn’t like it, +because it meant parting from his mother who, +so far, had been his only friend. But it was +exciting to be taken to Southampton, and have +<a name="png.088" id="png.088"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">63</span><span class="ns"> + </span>all sorts of new clothes bought for you, and a +school trunk, and a little polished box that +locked up, to keep your money in and your +gold sleeve links, and your watch and chain +when you were not wearing them.</p> + +<p>Also the journey to Salisbury was made in +a motor, which was very exciting of course, and +rather took Quentin’s mind off the parting with +his mother, as she meant it should. And there +was a very grand lunch at The White Hart +Hotel at Salisbury, and then, very suddenly +indeed, it was good-bye, good-bye, and the +motor snorted, and hooted, and throbbed, and +rushed away, and mother was gone, and Quentin +was at school.</p> + +<p>I believe it was quite a nice school. It was +in a very nice house with a large quiet garden, +and there were only about twenty boys. And +the masters were kind, and the boys no worse +than other boys of their age. But Quentin hated +it from the very beginning. For when his +mother had gone the Headmaster said: +‘School will be out in half-an-hour; take a +book, <ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'De Ward'">de Ward</ins>,’ and gave him <cite>Little Eric and +his Friends</cite>, a mere baby book. It was too +silly. He could not read it. He saw on a +shelf near him, <cite>Smith’s Antiquities</cite>, a very old +friend of his, so he said: ‘I’d rather have this, +please.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.089" id="png.089"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">64</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘You should say “sir” when you speak to a +master,’ the Head said to him. ‘Take the +book by all means.’ To himself the Head +said, ‘I wish you joy of it, you little prig.’</p> + +<p>When school was over, one of the boys was +told to show Quentin his bed and his locker. +The matron had already unpacked his box and +his pile of books was waiting for him to carry +it over.</p> + +<p>‘Golly, what a lot of books,’ said Smithson +minor. ‘What’s this? <cite>Atlantis</cite>? Is it a jolly +story?’</p> + +<p>‘It isn’t a story,’ said Quentin. And just +then the classical master came by. ‘What’s +that about <cite>Atlantis</cite>?’ he said.</p> + +<p>‘It’s a book the new chap’s got,’ said +Smithson.</p> + +<p>The classical master glanced at the book.</p> + +<p>‘And how much do you understand of this?’ +he asked, fluttering the leaves.</p> + +<p>‘Nearly all, I think,’ said Quentin.</p> + +<p>‘You should say “sir” when you speak to a +master,’ said the classical one; and to himself +he added, ‘little prig.’ Then he said to +Quentin: ‘I am afraid you will find yourself +rather out of your element among ordinary +boys.’</p> + +<p>‘I don’t think so,’ said Quentin calmly, +adding as an afterthought ‘sir.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.090" id="png.090"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">65</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘I’m glad you’re so confident,’ said the +classical master and went.</p> + +<p>‘My word,’ said Smithson minor in a rather +awed voice, ‘you did answer him back.’</p> + +<p>‘Of course I did,’ said Quentin. ‘Don’t +<em>you</em> answer when you’re spoken to?’</p> + +<p>Smithson minor informed the interested +school that the new chap was a prig, but he +had a cool cheek, and that some sport might be +expected.</p> + +<p>After supper the boys had half an hour’s +recreation. Quentin, who was tired, picked up +a book which a big boy had just put down. +It was the <cite>Midsummer Night’s Dream</cite>.</p> + +<p>‘Hi, you kid,’ said the big boy, ‘don’t +pretend you read Shakespeare for fun. That’s +simple swank, you know.’</p> + +<p>‘I don’t know what swank is,’ said Quentin, +‘but I like the <cite>Midsummer</cite> whoever wrote it.’</p> + +<p>‘Whoever <em>what</em>?’</p> + +<p>‘Well,’ said Quentin, ‘there’s a good deal +to be said for its being Bacon who wrote the +plays.’</p> + +<p>Of course that settled it. From that moment, +he was called not <ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'De Ward'">de Ward</ins>, which was strange +enough, but Bacon. He rather liked that. +But the next day it was Pork, and the day after +Pig, and that was unbearable.</p> + +<p>He was at the bottom of his class, for he +<a name="png.091" id="png.091"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">66</span><span class="ns"> + </span>knew no Latin as it is taught in schools, only +odd words that English words come from, and +some Latin words that are used in science. +And I cannot pretend that his arithmetic was +anything but contemptible.</p> + +<p>The book called <cite>Atlantis</cite> had been looked +at by most of the school, and Smithson major, +not nearly such an agreeable boy as his brother, +hit on a new nickname.</p> + +<p>‘Atlantic Pork’s a good name for a swanker,’ +he said. ‘You know the rotten meat they +have in Chicago.’</p> + +<p>This was in the playground before dinner. +Quentin, who had to keep his mouth shut very +tight these days, because, of course, a boy of ten +cannot cry before other chaps, shut the book +he was reading and looked up.</p> + +<p>‘I won’t be called that,’ he said quietly.</p> + +<p>‘Who said you wouldn’t?’ said Smithson +major, who, after all, was only twelve. ‘I say +you will.’</p> + +<p>‘If you call me that I shall hit you,’ said +Quentin, ‘as hard as I can.’</p> + +<p>A roar of laughter went up, and cries of, +‘Poor old Smithson’—‘Apologise, Smithie, and +leave the omnibus.’</p> + +<p>‘And what should I <ins class="TN" title="Transciber's note: + original reads 'being'">be</ins> doing while you +were hitting me?’ asked Smithson contemptuously.</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.093" id="png.093"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p67</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-093.png" + width="650" height="478" alt="" title="" /><br + />It landed on the point of the chin of Smithson major.</p> +</div> + +<p><a name="png.094" id="png.094"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">67</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘I don’t know and I don’t care,’ said +Quentin.</p> + +<p>Smithson looked round. No master was in +sight. It seemed an excellent opportunity to +teach young <ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'De Ward'">de Ward</ins> his place.</p> + +<p>‘Atlantic pig-swine,’ he said very deliberately. +And Quentin sprang at him, and +instantly it was a fight.</p> + +<p>Now Quentin had only once fought—really +fought—before. Then it was the grocer’s boy +and he had been beaten. But he had learned +something since. And the chief conclusion he +now drew from his memories of that fight was +that he had not hit half hard enough, an opinion +almost universal among those who have fought +and not won.</p> + +<p>As the fist of Smithson major described a +half circle and hurt his ear very much, Quentin +suddenly screwed himself up and hit out with +his right hand, straight, and with his whole +weight behind the blow as the grocer’s boy had +shown him. All his grief for his wounded +father, his sorrow at the parting from his mother, +all his hatred of his school, and his contempt for +his schoolfellows went into that blow. It landed +on the point of the chin of Smithson major who +fell together like a heap of rags.</p> + +<p>‘Oh,’ said Quentin, gazing with interest +at his hand—it hurt a good deal but he +<a name="png.095" id="png.095"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">68</span><span class="ns"> + </span>looked at it with respect—‘I’m afraid I’ve hurt +him.’</p> + +<p>He had forgotten for a moment that he was +in an enemies’ country, and so, apparently, had +his enemies.</p> + +<p>‘Well done, Piggy! Bravo, young ’un! +Well hit, by Jove!’</p> + +<p>Friendly hands thumped him on the back. +Smithson major was no popular hero.</p> + +<p>Quentin felt—as his schoolfellows would +have put it—bucked. It is one thing to be +called Pig in enmity and derision. Another to +be called Piggy—an affectionate diminutive, +after all—to the chorus of admiring smacks.</p> + +<p>‘Get up, Smithie,’ cried the ring. ‘Want +any more?’</p> + +<p>It appeared that Smithie did not want any +more. He lay, not moving at all, and very +white.</p> + +<p>‘I say,’ the crowd’s temper veered, ‘you’ve +killed him, I expect. I wouldn’t like to be +you, Bacon.’</p> + +<p>Pig, you notice, for aggravation—Piggy in +enthusiastic applause. In the moment of possible +tragedy the more formal Bacon.</p> + +<p>‘I haven’t,’ said Quentin, very white himself, +‘but if I have he began—by calling +names.’</p> + +<p>Smithson moved and grunted. A sigh of +<a name="png.096" id="png.096"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">69</span><span class="ns"> + </span>relief swept the ring as a breeze sweeps a +cornfield.</p> + +<p>‘He’s all right. A fair knock out. Piggy’s +got the use of ’em. Do Smithie good.’ The +voices hushed suddenly. A master was on the +scene—the classical master.</p> + +<p>‘Fighting?’ he said. ‘The new boy? Who +began it?’</p> + +<p>‘I did,’ said Quentin, ‘but he began with +calling names.’</p> + +<p>‘Sneak!’ murmured the entire school, and +Quentin, who had seen no reason for not +speaking the truth, perceived that one should +not tell all one knows, and that once more he +stood alone in the world.</p> + +<p>‘You will go to your room, <ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'De Ward'">de Ward</ins>,’ said +the classical master, bending over Smithson, +who having been ‘knocked silly’ still remained +in that condition, ‘and the headmaster will consider +your case to-morrow. You will probably +be expelled.’</p> + +<p>Quentin went to his room and thought over +his position. It seemed to be desperate. How +was he to know that the classical master was +even then saying to the Head:</p> + +<p>‘He’s got something in him, prig or no +prig, sir.’</p> + +<p>‘You were quite right to send him to his +room,’ said the Head, ‘discipline must be +<a name="png.097" id="png.097"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">70</span><span class="ns"> + </span>maintained, as Mr. Ducket says. But it will +do Smithson major a world of good. A boy +who reads Shakespeare for fun, and has views +about Atlantis, and can knock out a bully as +well…. He’ll be a power in the school. +But we mustn’t let him know it.’</p> + +<p>That was rather a pity. Because Quentin, +furious at the injustice of the whole thing—Smithson, +the aggressor, consoled with; himself +punished; expulsion threatened—was +maturing plans.</p> + +<p>‘If mother had known what it was like,’ he +said to himself, ‘she would never have left me +here. I’ve got the two pounds she gave me. +I shall go to the White Hart at Salisbury +… no, they’d find me then. I’ll go to Lyndhurst; +and write to her. It’s better to run +away than to be expelled. Quentin Durward +would never have waited to be expelled from +anywhere.’</p> + +<p>Of course Quentin Durward was my hero’s +hero. It could not be otherwise since his own +name was so like that of the Scottish guardsman.</p> + +<p>Now the school in Salisbury was a little +school for little boys—boys who were used to +schools and took the rough with the smooth. +But Quentin was not used to schools, and he +had taken the rough very much to heart. So +<a name="png.098" id="png.098"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">71</span><span class="ns"> + </span>much that he did not mean to take any more +of it.</p> + +<p>His dinner was brought up on a tray—bread +and water. He put the bread in his pocket. +Then when he knew that every one was at +dinner in the long dining-room at the back of +the house, he just walked very quietly down +the stairs, opened the side door and marched +out, down the garden path and out at the tradesmen’s +gate. He knew better than to shut +either gate or door.</p> + +<p>He went quickly down the street, turned +the first corner he came to so as to get out of +sight of the school. He turned another corner, +went through an archway, and found himself +in an inn-yard—very quiet indeed. Only a +liver-coloured lurcher dog wagged a sleepy tail +on the hot flag-stones.</p> + +<p>Quentin was just turning to go back through +the arch, for there was no other way out of the +yard, when he saw a big covered cart, whose +horse wore a nose-bag and looked as if there +was no hurry. The cart bore the name, ‘Miles, +Carrier, Lyndhurst.’</p> + +<p>Quentin knew all about lifts. He had often +begged them and got them. Now there was +no one to ask. But he felt he could very well +explain later that he had wanted a lift, much +better than now, in fact, when he might be +<a name="png.099" id="png.099"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">72</span><span class="ns"> + </span>caught at any moment by some one from the +school.</p> + +<p>He climbed up by the shaft. There were +boxes and packages of all sorts in the cart, and +at the back an empty crate with sacking over +it. He got into the crate, pulled the sacking +over himself, and settled down to eat his bread.</p> + +<p>Presently the carrier came out, and there +was talk, slow, long-drawn talk. After a long +while the cart shook to the carrier’s heavy +climb into it, the harness rattled, the cart +lurched, and the wheels were loud and bumpy +over the cobble stones of the yard.</p> + +<p>Quentin felt safe. The glow of anger was +still hot in him, and he was glad to think how +they would look for him all over the town, in +vain. He lifted the sacking at one corner so +that he could look out between the canvas of +the cart’s back and side, and hoped to see the +classical master distractedly looking for him. +But the streets were very sleepy. Every one +in Salisbury was having dinner—or in the case +of the affluent, lunch.</p> + +<p>The black horse seemed as sleepy as the +streets, and went very slowly. Also it stopped +very often, and wherever there were parcels to +leave there was slow, long talkings to be exchanged. +I think, perhaps, Quentin dozed a +good deal under his sacks. At any rate it was +<a name="png.100" id="png.100"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">73</span><span class="ns"> + </span>with a shock of surprise that he suddenly heard +the carrier’s voice saying, as the horse stopped +with a jerk:</p> + +<p>‘There’s a crate for you, Mrs. Baddock, +returned empty,’ and knew that that crate was +not empty, but full—full of boy.</p> + +<p>‘I’ll go and call Joe,’ said a voice—Mrs. +Baddock’s, Quentin supposed, and slow feet +stumped away over stones. Mr. Miles leisurely +untied the tail of the cart, ready to let the crate +be taken out.</p> + +<p>Quentin spent a paralytic moment. What +could he do?</p> + +<p>And then, luckily or unluckily, a reckless +motor tore past, and the black horse plunged +and Mr. Miles had to go to its head and ‘talk +pretty’ to it for a minute. And in that minute +Quentin lifted the sacking, and looked out. It +was low sunset, and the street was deserted. +He stepped out of the crate, dropped to the +ground, and slipped behind a stout and friendly +water-butt that seemed to offer protective +shelter.</p> + +<p>Joe came, and the crate was taken down.</p> + +<p>‘You haven’t seen nothing of that there +runaway boy by chance?’ said a new voice—Joe’s +no doubt.</p> + +<p>‘What boy?’ said Mr. Miles.</p> + +<p>‘Run away from school, Salisbury,’ said +<a name="png.101" id="png.101"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">74</span><span class="ns"> + </span>Joe. ‘Telegrams far and near, so they be. +Little varmint.’</p> + +<p>‘I ain’t seen no boys, not more’n ordinary,’ +said Mr. Miles. ‘Thick as flies they be, here, +there, and everywhere, drat ’em. Sixpence—Correct. +So long, Joe.’</p> + +<p>The cart rattled away. Joe and the crate +blundered out of hearing, and Quentin looked +cautiously round the water-butt.</p> + +<p>This was an adventure. But he was cooler +now than he had been at starting—his hot +anger had died down. He would have been +contented, he could not help feeling, with a less +adventurous adventure.</p> + +<p>But he was in for it now. He felt, as I +suppose people feel when they jump off cliffs +with parachutes, that return was impossible.</p> + +<p>Hastily turning his school cap inside out—the +only disguise he could think of, he emerged +from the water-butt seclusion and into the +street, trying to look as if there was no reason +why he should not be there. He did not know +the village. It was not Lyndhurst. And of +course asking the way was not to be thought of.</p> + +<p>There was a piece of sacking lying on the +road; it must have dropped from the carrier’s +cart. He picked it up and put it over his +shoulders.</p> + +<p>‘A deeper disguise,’ he said, and walked on.</p> + +<p><a name="png.102" id="png.102"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">75</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>He walked steadily for a long, long way as +it seemed, and the world got darker and +darker. But he kept on. Surely he must +presently come to some village, or some +signpost.</p> + +<p>Anyhow, whatever happened, he could not +go back. That was the one certain thing. +The broad stretches of country to right and +left held no shapes of houses, no glimmer of +warm candle-light; they were bare and bleak, +only broken by circles of trees that stood out +like black islands in the misty grey of the +twilight.</p> + +<p>‘I shall have to sleep behind a hedge,’ he +said bravely enough; but there did not seem +to be any hedges. And then, quite suddenly, +he came upon it.</p> + +<p>A scattered building, half transparent as it +seemed, showing black against the last faint +pink and primrose of the sunset. He stopped, +took a few steps off the road on short, crisp +turf that rose in a gentle slope. And at the +end of a dozen paces he knew it. Stonehenge! +Stonehenge he had always wanted so +desperately to see. Well, he saw it now, more +or less.</p> + +<p>He stopped to think. He knew that Stonehenge +stands all alone on Salisbury Plain. He +was very tired. His mother had told him +<a name="png.103" id="png.103"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">76</span><span class="ns"> + </span>about a girl in a book who slept all night on the +altar stone at Stonehenge. So it was a thing +that people did—to sleep there. He was not +afraid, as you or I might have been—of that +lonely desolate ruin of a temple of long ago. +He was used to the forest, and, compared with +the forest, any building is homelike.</p> + +<p>There was just enough light left amid the +stones of the wonderful broken circle to guide +him to its centre. As he went his hand brushed +a plant; he caught at it, and a little group of +flowers came away in his hand.</p> + +<p>‘St. John’s wort,’ he said, ‘that’s the magic +flower.’ And he remembered that it is only +magic when you pluck it on Midsummer Eve.</p> + +<p>‘And this <em>is</em> Midsummer Eve,’ he told +himself, and put it in his buttonhole.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t know where the altar stone is,’ he +said, ‘but that looks a cosy little crack between +those two big stones.’</p> + +<p>He crept into it, and lay down on a flat +stone that stretched between and under two +fallen pillars.</p> + +<p>The night was soft and warm; it was Midsummer +Eve.</p> + +<p>‘Mother isn’t going till the twenty-sixth,’ he +told himself. ‘I sha’n’t bother about hotels. I +shall send her a telegram in the morning, and +get a carriage at the nearest stables and go +<a name="png.104" id="png.104"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">77</span><span class="ns"> + </span>straight back to her. No, she won’t be angry +when she hears all about it. I’ll ask her to let +me go to sea instead of to school. It’s much +more manly. Much more manly … much +much more, much.’</p> + +<p>He was asleep. And the wild west wind +that swept across the plain spared the little +corner where he lay asleep, curled up in his +sacking with the inside-out school cap, doubled +twice, for pillow.</p> + +<p>He fell asleep on the smooth, solid, steady +stone.</p> + +<p>He awoke on the stone in a world that +rocked as sea-boats rock on a choppy sea.</p> + +<p>He went to sleep between fallen moveless +pillars of a ruin older than any world that +history knows.</p> + +<p>He awoke in the shade of a purple awning +through which strong sunlight filtered, and +purple curtains that flapped and strained in the +wind; and there was a smell, a sweet familiar +smell, of tarred ropes and the sea.</p> + +<p>‘I say,’ said Quentin to himself, ‘here’s a +rum go.’</p> + +<p>He had learned that expression in a school +in Salisbury, a long time ago as it seemed.</p> + +<p>The stone on which he lay dipped and rose +to a rhythm which he knew well enough. He +had felt it when he and his mother went in a +<a name="png.105" id="png.105"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">78</span><span class="ns"> + </span>little boat from Keyhaven to Alum Bay in the +Isle of Wight. There was no doubt in his +mind. He was on a ship. But how, but +why? Who could have carried him all that +way without waking him? Was it magic? +Accidental magic? The St. John’s wort +perhaps? And the stone—it was not the +same. It was new, clean cut, and, where +the wind displaced a corner of the curtain, +dazzlingly white in the sunlight.</p> + +<p>There was the pat pat of bare feet on the +deck, a dull sort of shuffling as though people +were arranging themselves. And then people +outside the awning began to sing. It was a +strange song, not at all like any music you or I +have ever heard. It had no tune, no more tune +than a drum has, or a trumpet, but it had a +sort of wild rough glorious exciting splendour +about it, and gave you the sort of intense all-alive +feeling that drums and trumpets give.</p> + +<p>Quentin lifted a corner of the purple curtain +and looked out.</p> + +<p>Instantly the song stopped, drowned in the +deepest silence Quentin had ever imagined. +It was only broken by the flip-flapping of the +sheets against the masts of the ship. For it +was a ship, Quentin saw that as the bulwark +dipped to show him an unending waste of sea, +broken by bigger waves than he had ever +<a name="png.108" id="png.108"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">79</span><span class="ns"> + </span>dreamed of. He saw also a crowd of men, +dressed in white and blue and purple and gold. +Their right arms were raised towards the sun, +half of whose face showed across the sea—but +they seemed to be, as my old nurse used to +say, ‘struck so,’ for their eyes were not fixed on +the sun, but on Quentin. And not in anger, +he noticed curiously, but with surprise and +… could it be that they were afraid of him?</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.107" id="png.107"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p79</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-107.png" + width="536" height="700" alt="" title="" /><br + />‘Who are you?’ he said. ‘Answer, I adjure you by the sacred Tau!’</p> +</div> + +<p>Quentin was shivering with the surprise and +newness of it all. He had read about magic, +but he had not wholly believed in it, and yet, +now, if this was not magic, what was it? You +go to sleep on an old stone in a ruin. You +wake on the same stone, quite new, on a ship. +Magic, magic, if ever there was magic in this +wonderful, mysterious world!</p> + +<p>The silence became awkward. Some one +had to say something.</p> + +<p>‘Good-morning,’ said Quentin, feeling that +he ought perhaps to be the one.</p> + +<p>Instantly every one in sight fell on his face +on the deck.</p> + +<p>Only one, a tall man with a black beard and +a blue mantle, stood up and looked Quentin in +the eyes.</p> + +<p>‘Who are you?’ he said. ‘Answer, I +adjure you by the Sacred Tau!’ Now this +was very odd, and Quentin could never understand +<a name="png.109" id="png.109"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">80</span><span class="ns"> + </span>it, but when this man spoke Quentin +understood <em>him</em> perfectly, and yet at the same +time he knew that the man was speaking a +foreign language. So that his thought was +not, ‘Hullo, you speak English!’ but ‘Hullo, +I can understand your language.’</p> + +<p>‘I am Quentin <ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'De Ward'">de Ward</ins>,’ he said.</p> + +<p>‘A name from other stars! How came you +here?’ asked the blue-mantled man.</p> + +<p>‘<em>I</em> don’t know,’ said Quentin.</p> + +<p>‘He does not know. He did not sail with +us. It is by magic that he is here,’ said Blue +Mantle. ‘Rise, all, and greet the Chosen of +the Gods.’</p> + +<p>They rose from the deck, and Quentin saw +that they were all bearded men, with bright, +earnest eyes, dressed in strange dress of something +like jersey and tunic and heavy golden +ornaments.</p> + +<p>‘Hail! Chosen of the Gods,’ cried Blue +Mantle, who seemed to be the leader.</p> + +<p>‘Hail, Chosen of the Gods!’ echoed the rest.</p> + +<p>‘Thank you very much, I’m sure,’ said +Quentin.</p> + +<p>‘And what is this stone?’ asked Blue +Mantle, pointing to the stone on which Quentin +sat.</p> + +<p>And Quentin, anxious to show off his +knowledge, said:</p> + +<p><a name="png.110" id="png.110"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">81</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘I’m not quite sure, but I <em>think</em> it’s the altar +stone of Stonehenge.’</p> + +<p>‘It is proved,’ said Blue Mantle. ‘Thou +art the Chosen of the Gods. Is there anything +my Lord needs?’ he added humbly.</p> + +<p>‘I … I’m rather hungry,’ said Quentin; +‘it’s a long time since dinner, you know.’</p> + +<p>They brought him bread and bananas, and +oranges.</p> + +<p>‘Take,’ said Blue Mantle, ‘of the fruits of +the earth, and specially of this, which gives +drink and meat and ointment to man,’ suddenly +offering a large cocoa-nut.</p> + +<p>Quentin took, with appropriate ‘Thank +you’s’ and ‘You’re very kind’s.’</p> + +<p>‘Nothing,’ said Blue Mantle, ‘is too good +for the Chosen of the Gods. All that we have +is yours, to the very last day of your life you +have only to command, and we obey. You +will like to eat in seclusion. And afterwards +you will let us behold the whole person of the +Chosen of the Gods.’</p> + +<p>Quentin retired into the purple tent, with +the fruits and the cocoa-nut. As you know, a +cocoa-nut is not handy to get at the inside of, +at the best of times, so Quentin set that aside, +meaning to ask Blue Mantle later on for a +gimlet and a hammer.</p> + +<p>When he had had enough to eat he peeped +<a name="png.111" id="png.111"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">82</span><span class="ns"> + </span>out again. Blue Mantle was on the watch and +came quickly forward.</p> + +<p>‘Now,’ said he, very crossly indeed, ‘tell +me how you got here. This Chosen of the +Gods business is all very well for the vulgar. +But you and I know that there is no such +thing as magic.’</p> + +<p>‘Speak for yourself,’ said Quentin. ‘If I’m +not here by magic I’m not here at all.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, you are,’ said Blue Mantle.</p> + +<p>‘I know I am,’ said Quentin, ‘but if I’m +not here by magic what am I here by?’</p> + +<p>‘Stowawayishness,’ said Blue Mantle.</p> + +<p>‘If you think that why don’t you treat me +as a stowaway?’</p> + +<p>‘Because of public opinion,’ said Blue +Mantle, rubbing his nose in an angry sort of +perplexedness.</p> + +<p>‘Very well,’ said Quentin, who was feeling +so surprised and bewildered that it was a real +relief to him to bully somebody. ‘Now look +here. I came here by magic, accidental +magic. I belong to quite a different world +from yours. But perhaps you are right about +my being the Chosen of the Gods. And I +sha’n’t tell you anything about my world. But +I command you, by the Sacred Tau’ (he had +been quick enough to catch and remember +the word), ‘to tell me who you are, and +<a name="png.112" id="png.112"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">83</span><span class="ns"> + </span>where you come from, and where you are +going.’</p> + +<p>Blue Mantle shrugged his shoulders. ‘Oh, +well,’ he said, ‘if you invoke the sacred names +of Power…. But I don’t call it fair play. +Especially as you know perfectly well, and just +want to browbeat me into telling lies. I shall +not tell lies. I shall tell you the truth.’</p> + +<p>‘I hoped you would,’ said Quentin gently.</p> + +<p>‘Well then,’ said Blue Mantle, ‘I am a +Priest of Poseidon, and I come from the great +and immortal kingdom of Atlantis.’</p> + +<p>‘From the temple where the gold statue is, +with the twelve sea-horses in gold?’ Quentin +asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>‘Ah, I knew you knew all about it,’ said +Blue Mantle, ‘so I don’t need to tell you that +I am taking the sacred stone, on which you +are sitting (profanely if you are a mere stowaway, +and not the Chosen of the Gods) to +complete the splendid structure of a temple +built on a great plain in the second of the +islands which are our colonies in the North +East.’</p> + +<p>‘Tell me all about Atlantis,’ said Quentin. +And the priest, protesting that Quentin knew +as much about it as he did, told.</p> + +<p>And all the time the ship was ploughing +through the waves, sometimes sailing, sometimes +<a name="png.113" id="png.113"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">84</span><span class="ns"> + </span>rowed by hidden rowers with long oars. +And Quentin was served in all things as though +he had been a king. If he had insisted that +he was not the Chosen of the Gods everything +might have been different. But he did not. +And he was very anxious to show how much +he knew about Atlantis. And sometimes he +was wrong, the Priest said, but much more +often he was right.</p> + +<p>‘We are less than three days’ journey now +from the Eastern Isles,’ Blue Mantle said one +day, ‘and I warn you that if you are a mere +stowaway you had better own it. Because +if you persist in calling yourself the Chosen +of the Gods you will be expected to act as +such—to the very end.’</p> + +<p>‘I don’t call myself anything,’ said Quentin, +‘though I am not a stowaway, anyhow, and +I don’t know how I came here—so of course +it was magic. It’s simply silly your being so +cross. <em>I</em> can’t help being here. Let’s be +friends.’</p> + +<p>‘Well,’ said Blue Mantle, much less crossly, +‘I never believed in magic, though I <em>am</em> a +priest, but if it is, it is. We may as well be +friends, as you call it. It isn’t for very long, +anyway,’ he added mysteriously.</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.115" id="png.115"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p85</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-115.png" + width="650" height="649" alt="" title="" /><br + />The cart was drawn by an enormous creature, more like an elephant than +anything else.</p> +</div> + +<p>And then to show his friendliness he took +Quentin all over the ship, and explained it all to +<a name="png.116" id="png.116"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">85</span><span class="ns"> + </span>him. And Quentin enjoyed himself thoroughly, +though every now and then he had to pinch +himself to make sure that he was awake. And +he was fed well all the time, and all the time +made much of, so that when the ship reached +land he was quite sorry. The ship anchored +by a stone quay, most solid and serviceable, +and every one was very busy.</p> + +<p>Quentin kept out of sight behind the purple +curtains. The sailors and the priests and the +priests’ attendants and everybody on the boat +had asked him so many questions, and been +so curious about his clothes, that he was not +anxious to hear any more questions asked, or +to have to invent answers to them.</p> + +<p>And after a very great deal of talk—almost +as much as Mr. Miles’s carrying had needed—the +altar stone was lifted, Quentin, curtains, +awning and all, and carried along a gangway +to the shore, and there it was put on a sort of +cart, more like what people in Manchester call +a lurry than anything else I can think of. The +wheels were made of solid circles of wood +bound round with copper. And the cart <!-- Transcriber's note: original has duplicate "was" --> +was drawn by—not horses or donkeys or oxen +or even dogs—but by an enormous creature +more like an elephant than anything else, only +it had long hair rather like the hair worn by +goats.</p> + +<p><a name="png.117" id="png.117"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">86</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>You, perhaps, would not have known what +this vast creature was, but Quentin, who had +all sorts of out-of-the-way information packed +in his head, knew at once that it was a +mammoth.</p> + +<p>And by that he knew, too, that he had +slipped back many thousands of years, because, +of course, it is a very long time indeed since +there were any mammoths alive, and able to +draw lurries. And the car and the priest and +the priest’s retinue and the stone and Quentin +and the mammoth journeyed slowly away from +the coast, passing through great green forests +and among strange gray mountains.</p> + +<p>Where were they journeying?</p> + +<p>Quentin asked the same question you may +be sure, and Blue Mantle told him—</p> + +<p>‘To Stonehenge.’ And Quentin understood +him perfectly, though Stonehenge was not the +word Blue Mantle used, or anything like it.</p> + +<p>‘The great temple is now complete,’ he +said, ‘all but the altar stone. It will be the +most wonderful temple ever built in any of the +colonies of Atlantis. And it will be consecrated +on the longest day of the year.’</p> + +<p>‘Midsummer Day,’ said Quentin thoughtlessly—and, +as usual, anxious to tell all he +knew. ‘I know. The sun strikes through +the arch on to the altar stone at sunrise. +<a name="png.118" id="png.118"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">87</span><span class="ns"> + </span>Hundreds of people go to see it: the ruins are +quite crowded sometimes, I believe.’</p> + +<p>‘Ruins?’ said the priest in a terrible voice. +‘Crowded? Ruins?’</p> + +<p>‘I mean,’ said Quentin hastily, ‘the sun +will still shine the same way even when the +temple is in ruins, won’t it?’</p> + +<p>‘The temple,’ said the priest, ‘is built to +defy time. It will never be in ruins.’</p> + +<p>‘That’s all <em>you</em> know,’ said Quentin, not +very politely.</p> + +<p>‘It is not by any means all I know,’ said +the priest. ‘I do not tell all I know. Nor +do you.’</p> + +<p>‘I used to,’ said Quentin, ‘but I sha’n’t any +more. It only leads to trouble—I see that +now.’</p> + +<p>Now, though Quentin had been intensely +interested in everything he had seen in the +ship and on the journey, you may be sure he +had not lost sight of the need there was to get +back out of this time of Atlantis into his own +time. He knew that he must have got into +these Atlantean times by some very simple +accidental magic, and he felt no doubt that he +should get back in the same way. He felt +almost sure that the reverse-action, so to speak, +of the magic would begin when the stone got +back to the place where it had lain for so many +<a name="png.119" id="png.119"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">88</span><span class="ns"> + </span>thousand years before he happened to go to +sleep on it, and to start—perhaps by the St. +John’s wort—the accidental magic. If only, +when he got back there he could think of the +compelling, the magic word!</p> + +<p>And now the slow procession wound over +the downs, and far away across the plain, which +was almost just the same then as it is now, +Quentin saw what he knew must be Stonehenge. +But it was no longer the grey pile of +ruins that you have perhaps seen—or have, at +any rate, seen pictures of.</p> + +<p>From afar one could see the gleam of yellow +gold and red copper; the flutter of purple +curtains, the glitter and dazzle of shimmering +silver.</p> + +<p>As they drew near to the spot Quentin +perceived that the great stones he remembered +were overlaid with ornamental work, with vivid, +bright-coloured paintings. The whole thing +was a great circular building, every stone in its +place. At a mile or two distant lay a town. +And in that town, with every possible luxury, +served with every circumstance of servile +homage, Quentin ate and slept.</p> + +<p>I wish I had time to tell you what that town +was like where he slept and ate, but I have +not. You can read for yourself, some day, +what Atlantis was like. Plato tells us a good +<a name="png.120" id="png.120"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">89</span><span class="ns"> + </span>deal, and the Colonies of Atlantis must have +had at least a reasonable second-rate copy of +the cities of that fair and lovely land.</p> + +<p>That night, for the first time since he had +first gone to sleep on the altar stone, Quentin +slept apart from it. He lay on a wooden +couch strewn with soft bear-skins, and a +woollen coverlet was laid over him. And he +slept soundly.</p> + +<p>In the middle of the night, as it seemed, +Blue Mantle woke him.</p> + +<p>‘Come,’ he said, ‘Chosen of the Gods—since +you <em>will</em> be that, and no stowaway—the +hour draws nigh.’</p> + +<p>The mammoth was waiting. Quentin and +Blue Mantle rode on its back to the outer +porch of the new temple of Stonehenge. +Rows of priests and attendants, robed in white +and blue and purple, formed a sort of avenue +up which Blue Mantle led the Chosen of the +Gods, who was Quentin. They took off his +jacket and put a white dress on him, rather like +a night-shirt without sleeves. And they put a +thick wreath of London Pride on his head and +another, larger and longer, round his neck.</p> + +<p>‘If only the chaps at school could see me +now!’ he said to himself proudly.</p> + +<p>And by this time it was gray dawn.</p> + +<p>‘Lie down now,’ said Blue Mantle, ‘lie +<a name="png.121" id="png.121"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">90</span><span class="ns"> + </span>down, O Beloved of the Gods, upon the altar +stone, for the last time.’</p> + +<p>‘I shall be able to go, then?’ Quentin +asked. This accidental magic was, he perceived, +a tricky thing, and he wanted to be sure.</p> + +<p>‘You will not be able to stay,’ said the +priest. ‘If going is what you desire, the +desire of the Chosen of the Gods is fully +granted.’</p> + +<p>The grass on the plain far and near rustled +with the tread of many feet; the cold air of +dawn thrilled to the awed murmured of many +voices.</p> + +<p>Quentin lay down, with his pink wreaths +and his white robe, and watched the quickening +pinkiness of the East. And slowly the great +circle of the temple filled with white-robed folk, +all carrying in their hands the faint pinkiness of +the flowers which we nowadays call London +Pride.</p> + +<p>And all eyes were fixed on the arch through +which, at sunrise on Midsummer Day, the sun’s +first beam should fall upon the white, new, clean +altar stone. The stone is still there, after all +these thousands of years, and at sunrise on +Midsummer Day the sun’s first ray still falls +on it.</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.123" id="png.123"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p91</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-123.png" + width="504" height="700" alt="" title="" /><br + />‘Silence,’ cried the priest. ‘Chosen of the Immortals, close your eyes!’</p> +</div> + +<p>The sky grew lighter and lighter, and at +last the sun peered redly over the down, and +<a name="png.124" id="png.124"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">91</span><span class="ns"> + </span>the first ray of the morning sunlight fell full on +the altar stone and on the face of Quentin.</p> + +<p>And, as it did so, a very tall, white-robed +priest with a deer-skin apron and a curious +winged head-dress stepped forward. He +carried a great bronze knife, and he waved it +ten times in the shaft of sunlight that shot +through the arch and on to the altar stone.</p> + +<p>‘Thus,’ he cried, ‘thus do I bathe the +sacred blade in the pure fountain of all light, +all wisdom, all splendour. In the name of the +ten kings, the ten virtues, the ten hopes, the +ten fears I make my weapon clean! May this +temple of our love and our desire endure for +ever, so long as the glory of our Lord the Sun +is shed upon this earth. May the sacrifice I +now humbly and proudly offer be acceptable to +the gods by whom it has been so miraculously +provided. Chosen of the Gods! return to the +gods who sent thee!’</p> + +<p>A roar of voices rang through the temple. +The bronze knife was raised over Quentin. +He could not believe that this, this horror, was +the end of all these wonderful happenings.</p> + +<p>‘No—no,’ he cried, ‘it’s not true. I’m +not the Chosen of the Gods! I’m only a little +boy that’s got here by accidental magic!’</p> + +<p>‘Silence,’ cried the priest, ‘Chosen of the +Immortals, close your eyes! It will not hurt. +<a name="png.125" id="png.125"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">92</span><span class="ns"> + </span>This life is only a dream; the other life is the +real life. Be strong, be brave!’</p> + +<p>Quentin was not brave. But he shut his +eyes. He could not help it. The glitter of +the bronze knife in the sunlight was too strong +for him.</p> + +<p>He could not believe that this could really +have happened to him. Every one had been so +kind—so friendly to him. And it was all for this!</p> + +<p>Suddenly a sharp touch at his side told him +that for this, indeed, it had all been. He felt +the point of the knife.</p> + +<p>‘Mother!’ he cried. And opened his eyes +again.</p> + +<p>He always felt quite sure afterwards that +‘Mother’ was the master-word, the spell of +spells. For when he opened his eyes there +was no priest, no white-robed worshippers, no +splendour of colour and metal, no Chosen of +the Gods, no knife—only a little boy with a +piece of sacking over him, damp with the night +dews, lying on a stone amid the grey ruins of +Stonehenge, and, all about him, a crowd of +tourists who had come to see the sun’s first +shaft strike the age-old altar of Stonehenge on +Midsummer Day in the morning. And instead +of a knife point at his side there was only the +ferrule of the umbrella of an elderly and retired +tea merchant in a mackintosh and an Alpine +<a name="png.126" id="png.126"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">93</span><span class="ns"> + </span>hat,—a ferrule which had prodded the sleeping +boy so unexpectedly surprised on the very +altar stone where the sun’s ray now lingered.</p> + +<p>And then, in a moment, he knew that he +had not uttered the spell in vain, the word of +compelling, the word of power: for his mother +was there kneeling beside him. I am sorry to +say that he cried as he clung to her. <em>We</em> +cannot all of us be brave, always.</p> + +<p>The tourists were very kind and interested, +and the tea merchant insisted on giving Quentin +something out of a flask, which was so nasty +that Quentin only pretended to drink, out of +politeness. His mother had a carriage waiting, +and they escaped to it while the tourists were +saying, ‘How romantic!’ and asking each +other whatever in the world had happened.</p> + +<div class="blockq fivestar">* * * * *</div> + +<p>‘But how <em>did</em> you come to be there, +darling?’ said his mother with warm hands +comfortingly round him. ‘I’ve been looking +for you all night. I went to say good-bye to +you yesterday—Oh, Quentin—and I found +you’d run away. How <em>could</em> you?’</p> + +<p>‘I’m sorry,’ said Quentin, ‘if it worried you, +I’m sorry. Very, very. I was going to +telegraph to-day.’</p> + +<p>‘But where have you been? What have you +been doing all night?’ she asked, caressing him.</p> + +<p><a name="png.127" id="png.127"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">94</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Is it only one night?’ said Quentin. ‘I +don’t know exactly what’s happened. It was +accidental magic, I think, mother. I’m glad +I thought of the right word to get back, +though.’ And then he told her all about it. +She held him very tightly and let him talk.</p> + +<p>Perhaps she thought that a little boy to +whom accidental magic happened all in a minute, +like that, was not exactly the right little boy +for that excellent school in Salisbury. Anyhow +she took him to Egypt with her to meet his +father, and, on the way, they happened to see +a doctor in London who said: ‘Nerves’ which +is a poor name for accidental magic, and +Quentin does not believe it means the same +thing at all.</p> + +<p>Quentin’s father is well now, and he has +left the army, and father and mother and +Quentin live in a jolly, little, old house in +Salisbury, and Quentin is a ‘day boy’ at that +very same school. He and Smithson minor +are the greatest of friends. But he has never +told Smithson minor about the accidental +magic. He has learned now, and learned very +thoroughly, that it is not always wise to tell +all you know. If he had not owned that he +knew that it was the Stonehenge altar +stone!</p> + +<div class="blockq fivestar">* * * * *</div> + +<p class="pgbrk"><a name="png.128" id="png.128"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">95</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>You may think that the accidental magic +was all a dream, and that Quentin dreamed it +because his mother had told him so much about +Atlantis. But then, how do you account for +his dreaming so much that his mother had +never told him? You think that that part +wasn’t true, well, it may have been true for +anything I know. And I am sure you don’t +know more about it than I do.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="png.129" id="png.129"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">96</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><b>IV</b><br + />THE PRINCESS AND THE + <span class="nw">HEDGE-PIG</span></h2> + + +<p>‘<span class="smcap">But</span> I don’t see what we’re to <em>do</em>’ said the +Queen for the twentieth time.</p> + +<p>‘Whatever we do will end in misfortune,’ +said the King gloomily; ‘you’ll see it <!-- opening quote missing in original --> +will.’</p> + +<p>They were sitting in the honeysuckle arbour +talking things over, while the nurse walked +up and down the terrace with the new baby +in her arms.</p> + +<p>‘Yes, dear,’ said the poor Queen; ‘I’ve +not the slightest doubt I shall.’</p> + +<p>Misfortune comes in many ways, and you +can’t always know beforehand that a certain +way is the way misfortune will come by: but +there are things misfortune comes after as +surely as night comes after day. For instance, +if you let all the water boil away, the kettle +will have a hole burnt in it. If you leave the +bath taps running and the waste-pipe closed, +<a name="png.130" id="png.130"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">97</span><span class="ns"> + </span>the stairs of your house will, sooner or later, +resemble Niagara. If you leave your purse +at home, you won’t have it with you when you +want to pay your tram-fare. And if you throw +lighted wax matches at your muslin curtains, +your parent will most likely have to pay five +pounds to the fire engines for coming round +and blowing the fire out with a wet hose. +Also if you are a king and do not invite the +wicked fairy to your christening parties, she +will come all the same. And if you do ask +the wicked fairy, she will come, and in either +case it will be the worse for the new princess. +So what is a poor monarch to do? Of course +there is one way out of the difficulty, and +that is not to have a christening party at +all. But this offends all the good fairies, and +then where are you?</p> + +<p>All these reflections had presented themselves +to the minds of King Ozymandias and +his Queen, and neither of them could deny +that they were in a most awkward situation. +They were ‘talking it over’ for the hundredth +time on the palace terrace where the pomegranates +and oleanders grew in green tubs and +the marble balustrade is overgrown with roses, +red and white and pink and yellow. On the +lower terrace the royal nurse was walking +up and down with the baby princess that all +<a name="png.131" id="png.131"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">98</span><span class="ns"> + </span>the fuss was about. The Queen’s eyes followed +the baby admiringly.</p> + +<p>‘The darling!’ she said. ‘Oh, Ozymandias, +don’t you sometimes wish we’d been poor +people?’</p> + +<p>‘Never!’ said the King decidedly.</p> + +<p>‘Well, I do,’ said the Queen; ‘then we could +have had just you and me and your sister at +the christening, and no fear of—oh! I’ve +thought of something.’</p> + +<p>The King’s patient expression showed that +he did not think it likely that she would have +thought of anything useful; but at the first five +words his expression changed. You would +have said that he pricked up his ears, if kings +had ears that could be pricked up. What she +said was—</p> + +<p>‘Let’s have a secret christening.’</p> + +<p>‘How?’ asked the King.</p> + +<p>The Queen was gazing in the direction of +the baby with what is called a ‘far away look’ +in her eyes.</p> + +<p>‘Wait a minute,’ she said slowly. ‘I see it +all—yes—we’ll have the party in the cellars—you +know they’re splendid.’</p> + +<p>‘My great-grandfather had them built by +Lancashire men, yes,’ interrupted the King.</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.132" id="png.132"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p98</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img src="images/illus-132.png" + width="525" height="700" alt="" title="" /><br + />On the lower terrace the royal nurse was walking up and down with the +baby princess that all the fuss was about.</p> +</div> + +<p>‘We’ll send out the invitations to look like +bills. The baker’s boy can take them. He’s +<a name="png.134" id="png.134"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">99</span><span class="ns"> + </span>a very nice boy. He made baby laugh +yesterday when I was explaining to him about +the Standard Bread. We’ll just put “1 loaf 3. +A remittance at your earliest convenience will +oblige.” That’ll mean that 1 person is invited +for 3 o’clock, and on the back we’ll write where +and why in invisible ink. Lemon juice, you +know. And the baker’s boy shall be told to +ask to see the people—just as they do when they +<em>really</em> mean earliest convenience—and then he +shall just whisper: “Deadly secret. Lemon +juice. Hold it to the fire,” and come away. +Oh, dearest, do say you approve!’</p> + +<p>The King laid down his pipe, set his crown +straight, and kissed the Queen with great and +serious earnestness.</p> + +<p>‘You are a wonder,’ he said. ‘It is the very +thing. But the baker’s boy is very small. +Can we trust him?’</p> + +<p>‘He is nine,’ said the Queen, ‘and I have +sometimes thought that he must be a prince +in disguise. He is so very intelligent.’</p> + +<p>The Queen’s plan was carried out. The +cellars, which were really extraordinarily fine, +were secretly decorated by the King’s confidential +man and the Queen’s confidential +maid and a few of <em>their</em> confidential friends +whom they knew they could really trust. +You would never have thought they were +<a name="png.135" id="png.135"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">100</span><span class="ns"> + </span>cellars when the decorations were finished. +The walls were hung with white satin and +white velvet, with wreaths of white roses, and +the stone floors were covered with freshly cut +turf with white daisies, brisk and neat, growing +in it.</p> + +<p>The invitations were duly delivered by the +baker’s boy. On them was written in plain +blue ink,</p><!-- Transcriber's note: original has period in place of comma --> + +<p class="ctr">‘<span class="smcap">The Royal Bakeries</span><br + />1 loaf 3d.<br + />An early remittance will oblige.’</p> + +<p>And when the people held the letter to the +fire, as they were whisperingly instructed to +do by the baker’s boy, they read in a faint +brown writing:—</p> + +<p>‘King Ozymandias and Queen Eliza invite +you to the christening of their daughter Princess +Ozyliza at three on Wednesday in the Palace +cellars.</p> + +<p>‘<i>P.S.</i>—We are obliged to be very secret +and careful because of wicked fairies, so please +come disguised as a tradesman with a bill, +calling for the last time before it leaves your +hands.’</p> + +<p>You will understand by this that the King +and Queen were not as well off as they could +wish; so that tradesmen calling at the palace +with that sort of message was the last thing +<a name="png.136" id="png.136"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">101</span><span class="ns"> + </span>likely to excite remark. But as most of the +King’s subjects were not very well off either, +this was merely a bond between the King and +his people. They could sympathise with each +other, and understand each other’s troubles in +a way impossible to most kings and most +nations.</p> + +<p>You can imagine the excitement in the +families of the people who were invited to the +christening party, and the interest they felt in +their costumes. The Lord Chief Justice disguised +himself as a shoemaker; he still had +his old blue brief-bag by him, and a brief-bag +and a boot-bag are very much alike. The +Commander-in-Chief dressed as a dog’s meat +man and wheeled a barrow. The Prime +Minister appeared as a tailor; this required no +change of dress and only a slight change of expression. +And the other courtiers all disguised +themselves perfectly. So did the good fairies, +who had, of course, been invited first of all. +Benevola, Queen of the Good Fairies, disguised +herself as a moonbeam, which can go into any +palace and no questions asked. Serena, the +next in command, dressed as a butterfly, and +all the other fairies had disguises equally pretty +and tasteful.</p> + +<p>The Queen looked most kind and beautiful, +the King very handsome and manly, and all +<a name="png.137" id="png.137"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">102</span><span class="ns"> + </span>the guests agreed that the new princess was +the most beautiful baby they had ever seen in +all their born days.</p> + +<p>Everybody brought the most charming +christening presents concealed beneath their +disguises. The fairies gave the usual gifts, +beauty, grace, intelligence, charm, and so on.</p> + +<p>Everything seemed to be going better than +well. But of course you know it wasn’t. The +Lord High Admiral had not been able to get a +cook’s dress large enough completely to cover +his uniform; a bit of an epaulette had peeped +out, and the wicked fairy, Malevola, had spotted +it as he went past her to the palace back door, +near which she had been sitting disguised as a +dog without a collar hiding from the police, and +enjoying what she took to be the trouble the +royal household were having with their tradesmen.</p> + +<p>Malevola almost jumped out of her dog-skin +when she saw the glitter of that epaulette.</p> + +<p>‘Hullo?’ she said, and sniffed quite like a +dog. ‘I must look into this,’ said she, and +disguising herself as a toad, she crept unseen +into the pipe by which the copper emptied itself +into the palace moat—for of course there +was a copper in one of the palace cellars as +there always is in cellars in the North Country.</p> + +<p>Now this copper had been a great trial to +<a name="png.138" id="png.138"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">103</span><span class="ns"> + </span>the decorators. If there is anything you don’t +like about your house, you can either try to +conceal it or ‘make a feature of it.’ And as +concealment of the copper was impossible, it +was decided to ‘make it a feature’ by covering +it with green moss and planting a tree in it, a +little apple tree all in bloom. It had been very +much admired.</p> + +<p>Malevola, hastily altering her disguise to +that of a mole, dug her way through the earth +that the copper was full of, got to the top and +put out a sharp nose just as Benevola was +saying in that soft voice which Malevola always +thought so affected,—</p> + +<p>‘The Princess shall love and be loved all +her life long.’</p> + +<p>‘So she shall,’ said the wicked fairy, assuming +her own shape amid the screams of the +audience. ‘Be quiet, you silly cuckoo,’ she said +to the Lord Chamberlain, whose screams were +specially piercing, ‘or I’ll give <em>you</em> a christening +present too.’</p> + +<p>Instantly there was a dreadful silence. Only +Queen Eliza, who had caught up the baby +at Malevola’s first word, said feebly,—</p> + +<p>‘Oh, <em>don’t</em>, dear Malevola.’</p> + +<p>And the King said, ‘It isn’t exactly a party, +don’t you know. Quite informal. Just a few +friends dropped in, eh, what?’</p> + +<p><a name="png.139" id="png.139"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">104</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘So I perceive,’ said Malevola, laughing +that dreadful laugh of hers which makes other +people feel as though they would never be able +to laugh any more. ‘Well, I’ve <!-- apostrophe invisible in original --> +dropped in too. +Let’s have a look at the child.’</p> + +<p>The poor Queen dared not refuse. She +tottered forward with the baby in her arms.</p> + +<p>‘Humph!’ said Malevola, ‘your precious +daughter will have beauty and grace and all the +rest of the tuppenny halfpenny rubbish those +niminy-piminy minxes have given her. But +she will be turned out of her kingdom. She +will have to face her enemies without a single +human being to stand by her, and she shall +never come to her own again until she <span class="nw">finds——’</span> +Malevola hesitated. She could not think of +anything sufficiently unlikely—‘until she finds,’ +she <span class="nw">repeated——</span></p> + +<p>‘A thousand spears to follow her to battle,’ +said a new voice, ‘a thousand spears devoted +to her and to her alone.’</p> + +<p>A very young fairy fluttered down from the +little apple tree where she had been hiding +among the pink and white blossom.</p> + +<p>‘I am very young, I know,’ she said +apologetically, ‘and I’ve only just finished my +last course of Fairy History. So I know that +if a fairy stops more than half a second in a +curse she can’t go on, and some one else may +<a name="png.140" id="png.140"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">105</span><span class="ns"> + </span>finish it for her. That is so, Your Majesty, +isn’t it?’ she said, appealing to Benevola. +And the Queen of the Fairies said Yes, that +was the law, only it was such an old one most +people had forgotten it.</p> + +<p>‘You think yourself very clever,’ said +Malevola, ‘but as a matter of fact you’re simply +silly. That’s the very thing I’ve provided +against. She <em>can’t</em> have any one to stand by +her in battle, so she’ll lose her kingdom and +every one will be killed, and I shall come to the +funeral. It will be enormous,’ she added rubbing +her hands at the joyous thought.</p> + +<p>‘If you’ve quite finished,’ said the King +politely, ‘and if you’re sure you won’t take +any refreshment, may I wish you a very good +afternoon?’ He held the door open himself, +and Malevola went out chuckling. The whole +of the party then burst into tears.</p> + +<p>‘Never mind,’ said the King at last, wiping +his eyes with the tails of his ermine. ‘It’s a +long way off and perhaps it won’t happen after all.’</p> + +<div class="blockq fivestar">* * * * *</div> + +<p>But of course it did.</p> + +<p>The King did what he could to prepare his +daughter for the fight in which she was to +stand alone against her enemies. He had her +taught fencing and riding and shooting, both +with the cross bow and the long bow, as well +<a name="png.141" id="png.141"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">106</span><span class="ns"> + </span>as with pistols, rifles, and artillery. She learned +to dive and to swim, to run and to jump, to box +and to wrestle, so that she grew up as strong +and healthy as any young man, and could, indeed, +have got the best of a fight with any prince of +her own age. But the few princes who called +at the palace did not come to fight the Princess, +and when they heard that the Princess had no +dowry except the gifts of the fairies, and also +what Malevola’s gift had been, they all said +they had just looked in as they were passing +and that they must be going now, thank you. +And went.</p> + +<p>And then the dreadful thing happened. +The tradesmen, who had for years been calling +for the last time before, etc., really decided to +place the matter in other hands. They called +in a neighbouring king who marched his army +into Ozymandias’s country, conquered the army—the +soldiers’ wages hadn’t been paid for years—turned +out the King and Queen, paid the +tradesmen’s bills, had most of the palace walls +papered with the receipts, and set up housekeeping +there himself.</p> + +<p>Now when this happened the Princess was +away on a visit to her aunt, the Empress of +Oricalchia, half the world away, and there is +no regular post between the two countries, so +that when she came home, travelling with a +<a name="png.142" id="png.142"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">107</span><span class="ns"> + </span>train of fifty-four camels, which is rather slow +work, and arrived at her own kingdom, she +expected to find all the flags flying and the +bells ringing and the streets decked in roses +to welcome her home.</p> + +<p>Instead of which nothing of the kind. The +streets were all as dull as dull, the shops were +closed because it was early-closing day, and +she did not see a single person she knew.</p> + +<p>She left the fifty-four camels laden with the +presents her aunt had given her outside the +gates, and rode alone on her own pet camel +to the palace, wondering whether perhaps her +father had not received the letter she had sent +on ahead by carrier pigeon the day before.</p> + +<p>And when she got to the palace and got off +her camel and went in, there was a strange +king on her father’s throne and a strange +queen sat in her mother’s place at his side.</p> + +<p>‘Where’s my father?’ said the Princess, +bold as brass, standing on the steps of the +throne. ‘And what are you doing there?’</p> + +<p>‘I might ask you that,’ said the King. +‘Who are you, anyway?’</p> + +<p>‘I am the Princess Ozyliza,’ said she.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, I’ve heard of you,’ said the King. +‘You’ve been expected for some time. Your +father’s been evicted, so now you know. No, +I can’t give you his address.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.143" id="png.143"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">108</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Just then some one came and whispered to +the Queen that fifty-four camels laden with +silks and velvets and monkeys and parakeets +and the richest treasures of Oricalchia were +outside the city gate. She put two and two +together, and whispered to the King, who +nodded and said:</p> + +<p>‘I wish to make a new law.’</p> + +<p>Every one fell flat on his face. The law is +so much respected in that country.</p> + +<p>‘No one called Ozyliza is allowed to own +property in this kingdom,’ said the King. +‘Turn out that stranger.’</p> + +<p>So the Princess was turned out of her +father’s palace, and went out and cried in the +palace gardens where she had been so happy +when she was little.</p> + +<p>And the baker’s boy, who was now the +baker’s young man, came by with the standard +bread and saw some one crying among the +oleanders, and went to say, ‘Cheer up!’ to +whoever it was. And it was the Princess. +He knew her at once.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, Princess,’ he said, ‘cheer up! Nothing +is ever so bad as it seems.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, Baker’s Boy,’ said she, for she knew +him too, ‘how can I cheer up? I am turned +out of my kingdom. I haven’t got my father’s +address, and I have to face my enemies +<a name="png.146" id="png.146"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">109</span><span class="ns"> + </span>without a single human being to stand by +me.’</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.145" id="png.145"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p109</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img src="images/illus-145.png" + width="503" height="700" alt="" title="" /><br + />Instantly a flight of winged arrows crossed the garden.</p> +</div> + +<p>‘That’s not true, at any rate,’ said the +baker’s boy, whose name was Erinaceus, +‘you’ve got me. If you’ll let me be your +squire, I’ll follow you round the world and help +you to fight your enemies.’</p> + +<p>‘You won’t be let,’ said the Princess sadly, +‘but I thank you very much all the same.’</p> + +<p>She dried her eyes and stood up.</p> + +<p>‘I must go,’ she said, ‘and I’ve nowhere +to go to.’</p> + +<p>Now as soon as the Princess had been +turned out of the palace, the Queen said, +‘You’d much better have beheaded her for +treason.’ And the King said, ‘I’ll tell the +archers to pick her off as she leaves the +grounds.’</p> + +<p>So when she stood up, out there among the +oleanders, some one on the terrace cried, +‘There she is!’ and instantly a flight of winged +arrows crossed the garden. At the cry +Erinaceus flung himself in front of her, clasping +her in his arms and turning his back to the +arrows. The Royal Archers were a thousand +strong and all excellent shots. Erinaceus +felt a thousand arrows sticking into his back.</p> + +<p>‘And now my last friend is dead,’ cried the +Princess. But being a very strong princess, +<a name="png.147" id="png.147"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">110</span><span class="ns"> + </span>she dragged him into the shrubbery out of +sight of the palace, and then dragged him into +the wood and called aloud on Benevola, Queen +of the Fairies, and Benevola came.</p> + +<p>‘They’ve killed my only friend,’ said the +Princess, ‘at least…. Shall I pull out the +arrows?’</p> + +<p>‘If you do,’ said the Fairy, ‘he’ll certainly +bleed to death.’</p> + +<p>‘And he’ll die if they stay in,’ said the +Princess.</p> + +<p>‘Not necessarily,’ said the Fairy; ‘let me +cut them a little shorter.’ She did, with her +fairy pocket-knife. ‘Now,’ she said, ‘I’ll do +what I can, but I’m afraid it’ll be a disappointment +to you both. Erinaceus,’ she went on, +addressing the unconscious baker’s boy with +the stumps of the arrows still sticking in him, +‘I command you, as soon as I have vanished, +to assume the form of a hedge-pig. The hedge-pig,’ +she exclaimed to the Princess, ‘is the only +nice person who can live comfortably with a +thousand spikes sticking out of him. Yes, I +know there are porcupines, but porcupines are +vicious and ill-mannered. Good-bye!’</p> + +<p>And with that she vanished. So did Erinaceus, +and the Princess found herself alone +among the oleanders; and on the green turf +was a small and very prickly brown hedge-pig.</p> + +<p><a name="png.148" id="png.148"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">111</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Oh, dear!’ she said, ‘now I’m all alone +again, and the baker’s boy has given his life +for mine, and mine isn’t worth having.’</p> + +<p>‘It’s worth more than all the world,’ said a +sharp little voice at her feet.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, can you talk?’ she said, quite cheered.</p> + +<p>‘Why not?’ said the hedge-pig sturdily; +‘it’s only the <em>form</em> of the hedge-pig I’ve +assumed. I’m Erinaceus inside, all right +enough. Pick me up in a corner of your +mantle so as not to prick your darling hands.’</p> + +<p>‘You mustn’t call names, you know,’ said +the Princess, ‘even your hedge-pigginess can’t +excuse such liberties.’</p> + +<p>‘I’m sorry, Princess,’ said the hedge-pig, +‘but I can’t help it. Only human beings speak +lies; all other creatures tell the truth. Now +I’ve got a hedge-pig’s tongue it won’t speak +anything but the truth. And the truth is that +I love you more than all the world.’</p> + +<p>‘Well,’ said the Princess thoughtfully, ‘since +you’re a hedge-pig I suppose you may love me, +and I may love you. Like pet dogs or gold-fish. +Dear little hedge-pig, then!’</p> + +<p>‘Don’t!’ said the hedge-pig, ‘remember +I’m the baker’s boy in my mind and soul. +My hedge-pigginess is only skin-deep. Pick +me up, dearest of Princesses, and let us go to +seek our fortunes.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.149" id="png.149"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">112</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘I think it’s my parents I ought to seek,’ +said the Princess. ‘However…’</p> + +<p>She picked up the hedge-pig in the corner +of her mantle and they went away through the +wood.</p> + +<p>They slept that night at a wood-cutter’s +cottage. The wood-cutter was very kind, and +made a nice little box of beech-wood for the +hedge-pig to be carried in, and he told the +Princess that most of her father’s subjects were +still loyal, but that no one could fight for him +because they would be fighting for the Princess +too, and however much they might wish to do +this, Malevola’s curse assured them that it was +impossible.</p> + +<p>So the Princess put her hedge-pig in its +little box and went on, looking everywhere +for her father and mother, and, after more +adventures than I have time to tell you, she +found them at last, living in quite a poor way +in a semi-detached villa at Tooting. They +were very glad to see her, but when they heard +that she meant to try to get back the kingdom, +the King said:</p> + +<p>‘I shouldn’t bother, my child, I really +shouldn’t. We are quite happy here. I have +the pension always given to Deposed Monarchs, +and your mother is becoming a really economical +manager.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.150" id="png.150"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">113</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>The Queen blushed with pleasure, and said, +‘Thank you, dear. But if you should succeed +in turning that wicked usurper out, Ozyliza, I +hope I shall be a better queen than I used to +be. I am learning housekeeping at an evening +class at the Crown-maker’s Institute.’</p> + +<p>The Princess kissed her parents and went +out into the garden to think it over. But the +garden was small and quite full of wet washing +hung on lines. So she went into the road, +but that was full of dust and perambulators. +Even the wet washing was better than that, so +she went back and sat down on the grass in a +white alley of tablecloths and sheets, all marked +with a crown in indelible ink. And she took +the hedge-pig out of the box. It was rolled up +in a ball, but she stroked the little bit of soft +forehead that you can always find if you look +carefully at a rolled-up hedge-pig, and the +hedge-pig uncurled and said:</p> + +<p>‘I am afraid I was asleep, Princess dear. +Did you want me?’</p> + +<p>‘You’re the only person who knows all about +everything,’ said she. ‘I haven’t told father +and mother about the arrows. Now what do +you advise?’</p> + +<p>Erinaceus was flattered at having his advice +asked, but unfortunately he hadn’t any to give.</p> + +<p>‘It’s your work, Princess,’ he said. ‘I can +<a name="png.151" id="png.151"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">114</span><span class="ns"> + </span>only promise to do anything a hedge-pig <em>can</em> +do. It’s not much. Of course I could die for +you, but that’s so useless.’</p> + +<p>‘Quite,’ said she.</p> + +<p>‘I wish I were invisible,’ he said dreamily.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, where are you?’ cried Ozyliza, for the +hedge-pig had vanished.</p> + +<p>‘Here,’ said a sharp little voice. ‘You can’t +see me, but I can see everything I want to see. +And I can see what to do. I’ll crawl into my +box, and you must disguise yourself as an old +French governess with the best references and +answer the advertisement that the wicked king +put yesterday in the “Usurpers Journal.”’</p> + +<p>The Queen helped the Princess to disguise +herself, which, of course, the Queen would never +have done if she had known about the arrows; +and the King gave her some of his pension to +buy a ticket with, so she went back quite +quickly, by train, to her own kingdom.</p> + +<p>The usurping King at once engaged the +French governess to teach his cook to read +French cookery books, because the best recipes +are in French. Of course he had no idea that +there was a princess, <em>the</em> Princess, beneath the +governessial disguise. The French lessons +were from 6 to 8 in the morning and from 2 to +4 in the afternoon, and all the rest of the time +the governess could spend as she liked. She +<a name="png.152" id="png.152"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">115</span><span class="ns"> + </span>spent it walking about the palace gardens and +talking to her invisible hedge-pig. They talked +about everything under the sun, and the hedge-pig +was the best of company.</p> + +<p>‘How did you become invisible?’ she asked +one day, and it said, ‘I suppose it was Benevola’s +doing. Only I think every one gets <em>one</em> +wish granted if they only wish hard enough.’</p> + +<p>On the fifty-fifth day the hedge-pig said, +‘Now, Princess dear, I’m going to begin to get +you back your kingdom.’</p> + +<p>And next morning the King came down to +breakfast in a dreadful rage with his face +covered up in bandages.</p> + +<p>‘This palace is haunted,’ he said. ‘In the +middle of the night a dreadful spiked ball was +thrown in my face. I lighted a match. There +was nothing.’</p> + +<p>The Queen said, ‘Nonsense! You must +have been dreaming.’</p> + +<p>But next morning it was her turn to come +down with a bandaged face. And the night +after, the King had the spiky ball thrown at him +again. And then the Queen had it. And then +they both had it, so that they couldn’t sleep at +all, and had to lie awake with nothing to +think of but their wickedness. And every five +minutes a very little voice whispered:</p> + +<p>‘Who stole the kingdom? Who killed the +<a name="png.153" id="png.153"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">116</span><span class="ns"> + </span>Princess?’ till the King and Queen could have +screamed with misery.</p> + +<p>And at last the Queen said, ‘We needn’t +have killed the Princess.’</p> + +<p>And the King said, ‘I’ve been thinking +that, too.’</p> + +<p>And next day the King said, ‘I don’t know +that we ought to have taken this kingdom. +We had a really high-class kingdom of our +own.’</p> + +<p>‘I’ve been thinking that too,’ said the Queen.</p> + +<p>By this time their hands and arms and necks +and faces and ears were very sore indeed, and +they were sick with want of sleep.</p> + +<p>‘Look here,’ said the King, ‘let’s chuck it. +Let’s write to Ozymandias and tell him he can +take over his kingdom again. I’ve had jolly +well enough of this.’</p> + +<p>‘Let’s,’ said the Queen, ‘but we can’t bring +the Princess to life again. I do wish we could,’ +and she cried a little through her bandages into +her egg, for it was breakfast time.</p> + +<p>‘Do you mean that,’ said a little sharp voice, +though there was no one to be seen in the room. +The King and Queen clung to each other in +terror, upsetting the urn over the toast-rack.</p> + +<p>‘Do you mean it?’ said the voice again; +‘answer, yes or no.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ said the Queen, ‘I don’t know who +<a name="png.154" id="png.154"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">117</span><span class="ns"> + </span>you are, but, yes, yes, yes. I can’t <em>think</em> how +we could have been so wicked.’</p> + +<p>‘Nor I,’ said the King.</p> + +<p>‘Then send for the French governess,’ said +the voice.</p> + +<p>‘Ring the bell, dear,’ said the Queen. ‘I’m +sure what it says is right. It is the voice of +conscience. I’ve often heard <em>of</em> it, but I never +heard it before.’</p> + +<p>The King pulled the richly-jewelled bell-rope +and ten magnificent green and gold footmen +appeared.</p> + +<p>‘Please ask Mademoiselle to step this way,’ +said the Queen.</p> + +<p>The ten magnificent green and gold footmen +found the governess beside the marble basin +feeding the gold-fish, and, bowing their ten +green backs, they gave the Queen’s message. +The governess who, every one agreed, was +always most obliging, went at once to the pink +satin breakfast-room where the King and Queen +were sitting, almost unrecognisable in their +bandages.</p> + +<p>‘Yes, Your Majesties?’ said she curtseying.</p> + +<p>‘The voice of conscience,’ said the Queen, +‘told us to send for you. Is there any recipe +in the French books for bringing shot princesses +to life? If so, will you kindly translate it +for us?’</p> + +<p><a name="png.155" id="png.155"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">118</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘There is <em>one</em>,’ said the Princess thoughtfully, +‘and it is quite simple. Take a king and a +queen and the voice of conscience. Place +them in a clean pink breakfast-room with eggs, +coffee, and toast. Add a full-sized French +governess. The king and queen must be +thoroughly pricked and bandaged, and the voice +of conscience must be very distinct.’</p> + +<p>‘Is that all?’ asked the Queen.</p> + +<p>‘That’s all,’ said the governess, ‘except that +the king and queen must have two more +bandages over their eyes, and keep them on +till the voice of conscience has counted fifty-five +very slowly.’</p> + +<p>‘If you would be so kind,’ said the Queen, <!-- Transcriber's note: original lacks opening quote --> +‘as to bandage us with our table napkins? Only +be careful how you fold them, because our faces +are very sore, and the royal monogram is very +stiff and hard owing to its being embroidered +in seed pearls by special command.’</p> + +<p>‘I will be very careful,’ said the governess +kindly.</p> + +<p>The moment the King and Queen were +blindfolded, the ‘voice of conscience’ began, ‘one, +two, three,’ and Ozyliza tore off her disguise, +and under the fussy black-and-violet-spotted +alpaca of the French governess was the simple +slim cloth-of-silver dress of the Princess. She +stuffed the alpaca up the chimney and the grey +<a name="png.156" id="png.156"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">119</span><span class="ns"> + </span>wig into the tea-cosy, and had disposed of the +mittens in the coffee-pot and the elastic-side +boots in the coal-scuttle, just as the voice of +conscience said—</p> + +<p>‘Fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-five!’ and stopped.</p> + +<p>The King and Queen pulled off the bandages, +and there, alive and well, with bright clear eyes +and pinky cheeks and a mouth that smiled, was +the Princess whom they supposed to have been +killed by the thousand arrows of their thousand +archers.</p> + +<p>Before they had time to say a word the +Princess said:</p> + +<p>‘Good morning, Your Majesties. I am +afraid you have had bad dreams. So have I. +Let us all try to forget them. I hope you will +stay a little longer in my palace. You are +very welcome. I am so sorry you have been +hurt.’</p> + +<p>‘We deserved it,’ said the Queen, ‘and we +want to say we have heard the voice of conscience, +and do please forgive us.’</p> + +<p>‘Not another word,’ said the Princess, ‘<em>do</em> +let me have some fresh tea made. And some +more eggs. These are quite cold. And the +urn’s been upset. We’ll have a new breakfast. +And I <em>am</em> so sorry your faces are so +sore.’</p> + +<p>‘If you kissed them,’ said the voice which +<a name="png.157" id="png.157"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">120</span><span class="ns"> + </span>the King and Queen called the voice of +conscience, ‘their faces would not be sore any +more.’</p> + +<p>‘May I?’ said Ozyliza, and kissed the +King’s ear and the Queen’s nose, all she could +get at through the bandages.</p> + +<p>And instantly they were quite well.</p> + +<p>They had a delightful breakfast. Then the +King caused the royal household to assemble +in the throne-room, and there announced +that, as the Princess had come to claim the +kingdom, they were returning to their own +kingdom by the three-seventeen train on +Thursday.</p> + +<p>Every one cheered like mad, and the whole +town was decorated and illuminated that evening. +Flags flew from every house, and the bells all +rang, just as the Princess had expected them to +do that day when she came home with the +fifty-five camels. All the treasure these had +carried was given back to the Princess, and +the camels themselves were restored to her, +hardly at all the worse for wear.</p> + +<p>The usurping King and Queen were seen +off at the station by the Princess, and parted +from her with real affection. You see they +weren’t completely wicked in their hearts, but +they had never had time to think before. And +being kept awake at night forced them to think. +<a name="png.158" id="png.158"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">121</span><span class="ns"> + </span>And the ‘voice of conscience’ gave them something +to think about.</p> + +<p>They gave the Princess the receipted bills, +with which most of the palace was papered, in +return for board and lodging.</p> + +<p>When they were gone a telegram was +sent off.</p> + +<div class="blockq"> + +<p class="i12"><small>Ozymandias Rex, Esq.,<br + /><span class="i2">Chatsworth,</span><br + /><span class="i4">Delamere Road,</span><br + /><span class="i6">Tooting,</span><br + /><span class="i8">England.</span></small></p> + +<p><small>Please come home at once. Palace vacant. Tenants +have left.—<span class="smcap">Ozyliza P.</span></small></p> +</div> + +<p>And they came immediately.</p> + +<p>When they arrived the Princess told them +the whole story, and they kissed and praised +her, and called her their deliverer and the +saviour of her country.</p> + +<p>‘<em>I</em> haven’t done anything,’ she said. ‘It was +Erinaceus who did everything, and….’</p> + +<p>‘But the fairies said,’ interrupted the King, +who was never clever at the best of times, +‘that you couldn’t get the kingdom back till +you had a thousand spears devoted to you, to +you alone.’</p> + +<p>‘There are a thousand spears in my back,’ +said a little sharp voice, ‘and they are all +devoted to the Princess and to her alone.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.159" id="png.159"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">122</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Don’t!’ said the King irritably. ‘That +voice coming out of nothing makes me jump.’</p> + +<p>‘I can’t get used to it either,’ said the Queen. +‘We must have a gold cage built for the little +animal. But I must say I wish it was visible.’</p> + +<p>‘So do I,’ said the Princess earnestly. And +instantly it was. I suppose the Princess wished +it very hard, for there was the hedge-pig with +its long spiky body and its little pointed face, +its bright eyes, its small round ears, and its +sharp, turned-up nose.</p> + +<p>It looked at the Princess but it did not +speak.</p> + +<p>‘Say something <em>now</em>,’ said Queen Eliza. ‘I +should like to <em>see</em> a hedge-pig speak.’</p> + +<p>‘The truth is, if speak I must, I must speak +the truth,’ said Erinaceus. ‘The Princess has +thrown away her life-wish to make me visible. +I wish she had wished instead for something +nice for herself.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, was that my life-wish?’ cried the +Princess. ‘I didn’t know, dear Hedge-pig, I +didn’t know. If I’d only known, I would have +wished you back into your proper shape.’</p> + +<p>‘If you had,’ said the hedge-pig, ‘it would +have been the shape of a dead man. Remember +that I have a thousand spears in my back, and +no man can carry those and live.’</p> + +<p>The Princess burst into tears.</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.161" id="png.161"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p123</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img src="images/illus-161.png" + width="481" height="700" alt="" title="" /><br + />‘I would kiss you on every one of your thousand spears,’ she said, ‘to give +you what you wish.’</p> +</div> + +<p><a name="png.162" id="png.162"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">123</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Oh, you can’t go on being a hedge-pig for +ever,’ she said, ‘it’s not fair. I can’t bear it. +Oh Mamma! Oh Papa! Oh Benevola!’</p> + +<p>And there stood Benevola before them, a +little dazzling figure with blue butterfly’s wings +and a wreath of moonshine.</p> + +<p>‘Well?’ she said, ‘well?’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, you know,’ said the Princess, still +crying. ‘I’ve thrown away my life-wish, and +he’s still a hedge-pig. Can’t you do <em>anything</em>!’</p> + +<p>‘<em>I</em> can’t,’ said the Fairy, ‘but you can. +Your kisses are magic kisses. Don’t you +remember how you cured the King and Queen +of all the wounds the hedge-pig made by +rolling itself on to their faces in the night?’</p> + +<p>‘But she can’t go kissing hedge-pigs,’ said +the Queen, ‘it would be most unsuitable. +Besides it would hurt her.’</p> + +<p>But the hedge-pig raised its little pointed +face, and the Princess took it up in her hands. +She had long since learned how to do this +without hurting either herself or it. She +looked in its little bright eyes.</p> + +<p>‘I would kiss you on every one of your +thousand spears,’ she said, ‘to give you what +you wish.’</p> + +<p>‘Kiss me once,’ it said, ‘where my fur is +soft. That is all I wish, and enough to live and +die for.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.163" id="png.163"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">124</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>She stooped her head and kissed it on its +forehead where the fur is soft, just where the +prickles begin.</p> + +<p>And instantly she was standing with her +hands on a young man’s shoulders and her lips +on a young man’s face just where the hair +begins and the forehead leaves off. And all +round his feet lay a pile of fallen arrows.</p> + +<p>She drew back and looked at him.</p> + +<p>‘Erinaceus,’ she said, ‘you’re different—from +the baker’s boy I mean.’</p> + +<p>‘When I was an invisible hedge-pig,’ he +said, ‘I knew everything. Now I have +forgotten all that wisdom save only two things. +One is that I am a king’s son. I was stolen +away in infancy by an unprincipled baker, and +I am really the son of that usurping King +whose face I rolled on in the night. It is a +painful thing to roll on your father’s face when +you are all spiky, but I did it, Princess, for +your sake, and for my father’s too. And now +I will go to him and tell him all, and ask his +forgiveness.’</p> + +<p>‘You won’t go away?’ said the Princess. +‘Ah! don’t go away. What shall I do without +my hedge-pig?’</p> + +<p>Erinaceus stood still, looking very handsome +and like a prince.</p> + +<p>‘What is the other thing that you remember +<a name="png.164" id="png.164"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">125</span><span class="ns"> + </span>of your hedge-pig wisdom?’ asked the Queen +curiously. And Erinaceus answered, not to +her but to the Princess:</p> + +<p>‘The other thing, Princess, is that I love +you.’</p> + +<p>‘Isn’t there a third thing, Erinaceus?’ said +the Princess, looking down.</p> + +<p>‘There is, but you must speak that, not I.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh,’ said the Princess, a little disappointed, +‘then you knew that I loved you?’</p> + +<p>‘Hedge-pigs are very wise little beasts,’ said +Erinaceus, ‘but I only knew that when you +told it me.’</p> + +<p>‘I—told you?’</p> + +<p>‘When you kissed my little pointed face, +Princess,’ said Erinaceus, ‘I knew then.’</p> + +<p>‘My goodness gracious me,’ said the King.</p> + +<p>‘Quite so,’ said Benevola, ‘and I wouldn’t +ask <em>any one</em> to the wedding.’</p> + +<p>‘Except you, dear,’ said the Queen.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">‘Well, as I happened to be passing … +there’s no time like the present,’ said Benevola +briskly. ‘Suppose you give orders for the +wedding bells to be rung now, at once!’</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="png.165" id="png.165"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">126</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><b>V</b><br + />SEPTIMUS SEPTIMUSSON</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> wind was screaming over the marsh. It +shook the shutters and rattled the windows, +and the little boy lay awake in the bare attic. +His mother came softly up the ladder stairs +shading the flame of the tallow candle with her +hand.</p> + +<p>‘I’m not asleep, mother,’ said he. And she +heard the tears in his voice.</p> + +<p>‘Why, silly lad,’ she said, sitting down on +the straw-bed beside him and putting the candle +on the floor, ‘what are you crying for?’</p> + +<p>‘It’s the wind keeps calling me, mother,’ he +said. ‘It won’t let me alone. It never has +since I put up the little weather-cock for +it to play with. It keeps saying, “Wake up, +Septimus Septimusson, wake up, you’re the +seventh son of a seventh son. You can see +the fairies and hear the beasts speak, and you +must go out and seek your fortune.” And I’m +afraid, and I don’t want to go.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.166" id="png.166"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">127</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘I should think not indeed,’ said his mother. +‘The wind doesn’t talk, Sep, not really. You +just go to sleep like a good boy, and I’ll get +father to bring you a gingerbread pig from the +fair to-morrow.’</p> + +<p>But Sep lay awake a long time listening to +what the wind really did keep on saying, and +feeling ashamed to think how frightened he +was of going out all alone to seek his fortune—a +thing all the boys in books were only too +happy to do.</p> + +<p>Next evening father brought home the +loveliest gingerbread pig with currant eyes. +Sep ate it, and it made him less anxious than +ever to go out into the world where, perhaps, +no one would give him gingerbread pigs ever +any more.</p> + +<p>Before he went to bed he ran down to the +shore where a great new harbour was being +made. The workmen had been blasting the +big rocks, and on one of the rocks a lot of +mussels were sticking. He stood looking at +them, and then suddenly he heard a lot of little +voices crying, ‘Oh Sep, we’re so frightened, +we’re choking.’</p> + +<p>The voices were thin and sharp as the edges +of mussel shells. They were indeed the voices +of the mussels themselves.</p> + +<p>‘Oh dear,’ said Sep, ‘I’m so sorry, but I +<a name="png.167" id="png.167"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">128</span><span class="ns"> + </span>can’t move the rock back into the sea, you +know. Can I now?’</p> + +<p>‘No,’ said the mussels, ‘but if you speak to +the wind,—you know his language and he’s +very fond of you since you made that toy for +him,—he’ll blow the sea up till the waves +wash us back into deep water.’</p> + +<p>‘But I’m afraid of the wind,’ said Sep, ‘it +says things that frighten me.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh very well,’ said the mussels, ‘we +don’t want you to be afraid. We can die all +right if necessary.’</p> + +<p>Then Sep shivered and trembled.</p> + +<p>‘Go away,’ said the thin sharp voices. +‘We’ll die—but we’d rather die in our own +brave company.’</p> + +<p>‘I know I’m a coward,’ said Sep. ‘Oh, wait +a minute.’</p> + +<p>‘Death won’t wait,’ said the little voices.</p> + +<p>‘I can’t speak to the wind, I won’t,’ said +Sep, and almost at the same moment he +heard himself call out, ‘Oh wind, please come +and blow up the waves to save the poor +mussels.’</p> + +<p>The wind answered with a boisterous shout—</p> + +<p>‘All right, my boy,’ it shrieked, ‘I’m +coming.’ And come it did. And when it had +attended to the mussels it came and whispered +to Sep in his attic. And to his great surprise, +<a name="png.168" id="png.168"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">129</span><span class="ns"> + </span>instead of covering his head with the bed-clothes, +as usual, and trying not to listen, he +found himself sitting up in bed and talking to +the wind, man to man.</p> + +<p>‘Why,’ he said, ‘I’m not afraid of you any +more.’</p> + +<p>‘Of course not, we’re friends now,’ said the +wind. ‘That’s because we joined together to +do a kindness to some one. There’s nothing +like that for making people friends.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh,’ said Sep.</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ said the wind, ‘and now, old chap, +when will you go out and seek your fortune? +Remember how poor your father is, and the +fortune, if you find it, won’t be just for you, +but for your father and mother and the others.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh,’ said Sep, ‘I didn’t think of that.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ said the wind, ‘really, my dear +fellow, I do hate to bother you, but it’s better +to fix a time. Now when shall we start?’</p> + +<p>‘We?’ said Sep. ‘Are you going with me?’</p> + +<p>‘I’ll see you a bit of the way,’ said the wind. +‘What do you say now? Shall we start +to-night? There’s no time like the present.’</p> + +<p>‘I do hate going,’ said Sep.</p> + +<p>‘Of course you do!’ said the wind, cordially. +‘Come along. Get into your things, and we’ll +make a beginning.’</p> + +<p>So Sep dressed, and he wrote on his slate in +<a name="png.169" id="png.169"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">130</span><span class="ns"> + </span>very big letters, ‘Gone to seek our fortune,’ +and he put it on the table so that his mother +should see it when she came down in the +morning. And he went out of the cottage +and the wind kindly shut the door after him.</p> + +<p>The wind gently pushed him down to the +shore, and there he got into his father’s boat, +which was called the <i>Septimus and Susie</i>, after +his father and mother, and the wind carried him +across to another country and there he landed.</p> + +<p>‘Now,’ said the wind, clapping him on the +back, ‘off you go, and good luck to you!’</p> + +<p>And it turned round and took the boat +home again.</p> + +<p>When Sep’s mother found the writing on the +slate, and his father found the boat gone they +feared that Sep was drowned, but when the +wind brought the boat back wrong way up, +they were quite sure, and they both cried for +many a long day.</p> + +<p>The wind tried to tell them that Sep was +all right, but they couldn’t understand wind-talk, +and they only said, ‘Drat the wind,’ and +fastened the shutters up tight, and put wedges +in the windows.</p> + +<p>Sep walked along the straight white road +that led across the new country. He had no +more idea how to look for <em>his</em> fortune than you +would have if you suddenly left off reading +<a name="png.170" id="png.170"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">131</span><span class="ns"> + </span>this and went out of your front door to seek +<em>yours</em>.</p> + +<p>However, he had made a start, and that is +always something. When he had gone exactly +seven miles on that straight foreign road, +between strange trees, and bordered with +flowers he did not know the names of, he +heard a groaning in the wood, and some one +sighing and saying, ‘Oh, how hard it is, to +have to die and never see my wife and the +little cubs again.’</p> + +<p>The voice was rough as a lion’s mane, and +strong as a lion’s claws, and Sep was very +frightened. But he said, ‘I’m not afraid,’ and +then oddly enough he found he had spoken the +truth—he wasn’t afraid.</p> + +<p>He broke through the bushes and found +that the person who had spoken was indeed a +lion. A javelin had pierced its shoulder and +fastened it to a great tree.</p> + +<p>‘All right,’ cried Sep, ‘hold still a minute, +sir.’</p> + +<p>He got out his knife and cut and cut at the +shaft of the javelin till he was able to break it +off. Then the lion drew back and the broken +shaft passed through the wound and the broken +javelin was left sticking in the tree.</p> + +<p>‘I’m really extremely obliged, my dear +fellow,’ said the lion warmly. ‘Pray command +<a name="png.171" id="png.171"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">132</span><span class="ns"> + </span>me, if there’s any little thing I can do for you +at any time.’</p> + +<p>‘Don’t mention it,’ said Sep with proper +politeness, ‘delighted to have been of use +to you, I’m sure.’</p> + +<p>So they parted. As Sep scrambled through +the bushes back to the road he kicked against +an axe that lay on the ground.</p> + +<p>‘Hullo,’ said he, ‘some poor woodman’s +dropped this, and not been able to find it. I’ll +take it along—perhaps I may meet him.’</p> + +<p>He was getting very tired and very hungry, +and presently he sat down to rest under a +chestnut-tree, and he heard two little voices +talking in the branches, voices soft as a squirrel’s +fur, and bright as a squirrel’s eyes. They +were, indeed, the voices of two squirrels.</p> + +<p>‘Hush,’ said one, ‘there’s some one below.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh,’ said the other, ‘it’s a horrid boy. +Let’s scurry away.’</p> + +<p>‘I’m not a horrid boy,’ said Sep. ‘I’m the +seventh son of a seventh son.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh,’ said Mrs. Squirrel, ‘of course that +makes all the difference. Have some nuts?’</p> + +<p>‘Rather,’ said Sep. ‘At least I mean, yes, +if you please.’</p> + +<p>So the squirrels brought nuts down to him, +and when he had eaten as many as he wanted +they filled his pockets, and then in return he +<a name="png.172" id="png.172"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">133</span><span class="ns"> + </span>chopped all the lower boughs off the chestnut-tree, +so that boys who were <em>not</em> seventh sons +could not climb up and interfere with the +squirrels’ housekeeping arrangements.</p> + +<p>Then they parted, the best of friends, and +Sep went on.</p> + +<p>‘I haven’t found my fortune yet,’ said he, +‘but I’ve made a friend or two.’</p> + +<p>And just as he was saying that, he turned a +corner of the road and met an old gentleman +in a fur-lined coat riding a fine, big, grey horse.</p> + +<p>‘Hullo!’ said the gentleman. ‘Who are you, +and where are you off to so bright and early?’</p> + +<p>‘I’m Septimus Septimusson,’ said Sep, ‘and +I’m going to seek my fortune.’</p> + +<p>‘And you’ve taken an axe to help you carve +your way to glory?’</p> + +<p>‘No,’ said Sep, ‘I found it, and I suppose +some one lost it. So I’m bringing it along in +case I meet him.’</p> + +<p>‘Heavy, isn’t it?’ said the old gentleman.</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ said Sep.</p> + +<p>‘Then I’ll carry it for you,’ said the old +gentleman, ‘for it’s one that my head forester +lost yesterday. And now come along with me, +for you’re the boy I’ve been looking for for +seven years—an honest boy and the seventh +son of a seventh son.’</p> + +<p>So Sep went home with the gentleman, who +<a name="png.173" id="png.173"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">134</span><span class="ns"> + </span>was a great lord in that country, and he lived +in that lord’s castle and was taught everything +that a gentleman ought to know. And in +return he told the lord all about the ways of +birds and beasts—for as he understood their +talk he knew more about them than any one +else in that country. And the lord wrote it +all down in a book, and half the people said it +was wonderfully clever, and the other half said +it was nonsense, and how could he know. This +was fame, and the lord was very pleased. +But though the old lord was so famous he +would not leave his castle, for he had a hump +that an enchanter had fastened on to him, and +he couldn’t bear to be seen with it.</p> + +<p>‘But you’ll get rid of it for me some day, +my boy,’ he used to say. ‘No one but the +seventh son of a seventh son and an honest boy +can do it. So all the doctors say.’</p> + +<p>So Sep grew up. And when he was +twenty-one—straight as a lance and handsome +as a picture—the old lord said to him.</p> + +<p>‘My boy, you’ve been like a son to me, but +now it’s time you got married and had sons of +your own. Is there any girl you’d like to +marry?’</p> + +<p>‘No,’ said Sep, ‘I never did care much for +girls.’</p> + +<p>The old lord laughed.</p> + +<p><a name="png.174" id="png.174"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">135</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Then you must set out again and seek your +fortune once more,’ he said, ‘because no man +has really found his fortune till he’s found the +lady who is his heart’s lady. Choose the best +horse in the stable, and off you go, lad, and my +blessing go with you.’</p> + +<p>So Sep <ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'choose'">chose</ins> a good red horse and set out, +and he rode straight to the great city, that +shone golden across the plain, and when he got +there he found every one crying.</p> + +<p>‘Why, whatever is the matter?’ said Sep, +reining in the red horse in front of a smithy, +where the apprentices were crying on to the fires, +and the smith was dropping tears on the anvil.</p> + +<p>‘Why the Princess is dying,’ said the blacksmith +blowing his nose. ‘A nasty, wicked +magician—he had a spite against the King, and +he got at the Princess when she was playing +ball in the garden, and now she’s blind and +deaf and dumb. And she won’t eat.’</p> + +<p>‘And she’ll die,’ said the first apprentice.</p> + +<p>‘And she <em>is</em> such a dear,’ said the other +apprentice.</p> + +<p>Sep sat still on the red horse thinking.</p> + +<p>‘Has anything been done?’ he asked.</p> + +<p>‘Oh yes,’ said the blacksmith. ‘All the +doctors have seen her, but they can’t do anything. +And the King has advertised in the +usual way, that any one who can cure her may +<a name="png.175" id="png.175"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">136</span><span class="ns"> + </span>marry her. But it’s no good. King’s sons +aren’t what they used to be. A silly lot they +are nowadays, all taken up with football and +cricket and golf.’</p> + +<p>‘Humph,’ said Sep, ‘thank you. Which +is the way to the palace?’</p> + +<p>The blacksmith pointed, and then burst into +tears again. Sep rode on.</p> + +<p>When he got to the palace he asked to see +the King. Every one there was crying too, from +the footman who opened the door to the King, +who was sitting upon his golden throne and +looking at his fine collection of butterflies +through floods of tears.</p> + +<p>‘Oh dear me yes, young man,’ said the King, +‘you may <em>see</em> her and welcome, but it’s no good.’</p> + +<p>‘We can but try,’ said Sep. So he was +taken to the room where the Princess sat +huddled up on her silver throne among the +white velvet cushions with her crown all on one +side, crying out of her poor blind eyes, so that +the tears ran down over her green gown with +the red roses on it.</p> + +<p>And directly he saw her he knew that she +was the only girl, Princess as she was, with +a crown and a throne, who could ever be his +heart’s lady. He went up to her and kneeled +at her side and took her hand and kissed it. +The Princess started. She could not see or +<a name="png.176" id="png.176"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">137</span><span class="ns"> + </span>hear him, but at the touch of his hand and his +lips she knew that he was her heart’s lord, and +she threw her arms round his neck, and cried +more than ever.</p> + +<p>He held her in his arms and stroked her +hair till she stopped crying, and then he called +for bread and milk. This was brought in a +silver basin, and he fed her with it as you feed +a little child.</p> + +<p>The news ran through the city, ‘The +Princess has eaten,’ and all the bells were set +ringing. Sep said good-night to his Princess +and went to bed in the best bedroom of the +palace. Early in the grey morning he got up +and leaned out of the open window and called +to his old friend the wind.</p> + +<p>And the wind came bustling in and clapped +him on the back, crying, ‘Well, my boy, and +what can I do for you? Eh?’</p> + +<p>Sep told him all about the Princess.</p> + +<p>‘Well,’ said the wind, ‘you’ve not done so +badly. At any rate you’ve got her love. And +you couldn’t have got that with anybody’s help +but your own. Now, of course, the thing to do +is to find the wicked Magician.’</p> + +<p>‘Of course,’ said Sep.</p> + +<p>‘Well—I travel a good deal—I’ll keep my +eyes open, and let you know if I hear anything.’</p> + +<p>Sep spent the day holding the Princess’s +<a name="png.177" id="png.177"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">138</span><span class="ns"> + </span>hand, and feeding her at meal times; and that +night the wind rattled his window and said, +‘Let me in.’</p> + +<p>It came in very noisily, and said, ‘Well, +I’ve found your Magician, he’s in the forest +pretending to be a mole.’</p> + +<p>‘How can I find him?’ said Sep.</p> + +<p>‘Haven’t you any friends in the forest?’ +asked the wind.</p> + +<p>Then Sep remembered his friends the +squirrels, and he mounted his horse and rode +away to the chestnut-tree where they lived. +They were charmed to see him grown so tall +and strong and handsome, and when he had +told them his story they said at once—</p> + +<p>‘Oh yes! delighted to be of any service to +you.’ And they called to all their little brothers +and cousins, and uncles and nephews to search +the forest for a mole that wasn’t really a mole, +and quite soon they found him, and hustled and +shoved him along till he was face to face with +Sep, in a green glade. The glade was green, +but all the bushes and trees around were red-brown +with squirrel fur, and shining bright +with squirrel eyes.</p> + +<p>Then Sep said, ‘Give the Princess back her +eyes and her hearing and her voice.’</p> + +<p>But the mole would not.</p> + +<p>‘Give the Princess back her eyes and her +<a name="png.178" id="png.178"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">139</span><span class="ns"> + </span>hearing and her voice,’ said Sep again. But +the mole only gnashed his wicked teeth and +snarled.</p> + +<p>And then in a minute the squirrels fell on +the mole and killed it, and Sep thanked them +and rode back to the palace, for, of course, he +knew that when a magician is killed, all his +magic unworks itself instantly.</p> + +<p>But when he got to his Princess she was +still as deaf as a post and as dumb as a stone, +and she was still crying bitterly with her poor +blind eyes, till the tears ran down her grass-green +gown with the red roses on it.</p> + +<p>‘Cheer up, my sweetheart,’ he said, though +he knew she couldn’t hear him, and as he +spoke the wind came in at the open window, +and spoke very softly, because it was in the +presence of the Princess.</p> + +<p>‘All right,’ it whispered, ‘the old villain +gave us the slip that journey. Got out of the +mole-skin in the very nick of time. He’s a +wild boar now.’</p> + +<p>‘Come,’ said Sep, fingering his sword-hilt, +‘I’ll kill that myself without asking it any +questions.’</p> + +<p>So he went and fought it. But it was a +most uncommon boar, as big as a horse, with +tusks half a yard long; and although Sep +wounded it it jerked the sword out of his hand +<a name="png.179" id="png.179"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">140</span><span class="ns"> + </span>with its tusk, and was just going to trample +him out of life with its hard, heavy pigs’-feet, +when a great roar sounded through the forest.</p> + +<p>‘Ah! would ye?’ said the lion, and fastened +teeth and claws in the great boar’s back. The +boar turned with a scream of rage, but the lion +had got a good grip, and it did not loosen teeth +or claws till the boar lay quiet.</p> + +<p>‘Is he dead?’ asked Sep when he came to +himself.</p> + +<p>‘Oh yes, he’s <em>dead</em> right enough,’ said the +lion; but the wind came up puffing and blowing, +and said:</p> + +<p>‘It’s no good, he’s got away again, and now +he’s a fish. I was just a minute too late to see +<em>what</em> fish. An old oyster told me about it, +only he hadn’t the wit to notice what particular +fish the scoundrel changed into.’</p> + +<p>So then Sep went back to the palace, and +he said to the King:</p> + +<p>‘Let me marry the dear Princess, and we’ll +go out and seek our fortune. I’ve got to kill +that Magician, and I’ll do it too, or my name’s +not Septimus Septimusson. But it may take +years and years, and I can’t be away from the +Princess all that time, because she won’t eat +unless I feed her. You see the difficulty, +Sire?’</p> + +<p>The King saw it. And that very day Sep +<a name="png.180" id="png.180"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">141</span><span class="ns"> + </span>was married to the Princess in her green gown +with the red roses on it, and they set out +together.</p> + +<p>The wind went with them, and the wind, or +something else, seemed to say to Sep, ‘Go +home, take your wife home to your mother.’</p> + +<p>So he did. He crossed the land and he +crossed the sea, and he went up the red-brick +path to his father’s cottage, and he peeped in +at the door and said:</p> + +<p>‘Father, mother, here’s my wife.’</p> + +<p>They were so pleased to see him—for they +had thought him dead, that they didn’t notice +the Princess at first, and when they did notice +her they wondered at her beautiful face and +her beautiful gown—but it wasn’t till they had +all settled down to supper—boiled rabbit it was—and +they noticed Sep feeding his wife as one +feeds a baby that they saw that she was +blind.</p> + +<p>And then all the story had to be told.</p> + +<p>‘Well, well,’ said the fisherman, ‘you and +your wife bide here with us. I daresay I’ll +catch that old sinner in my nets one of these +fine days.’ But he never did. And Sep and +his wife lived with the old people. And they +were happy after a fashion—but of an evening +Sep used to wander and wonder, and wonder +and wander by the sea-shore, wondering as he +<a name="png.181" id="png.181"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">142</span><span class="ns"> + </span>wandered whether he wouldn’t ever have the +luck to catch that fish.</p> + +<p>And one evening as he wandered wondering +he heard a little, sharp, thin voice say:</p> + +<p>‘Sep. I’ve got it.’</p> + +<p>‘What?’ asked Sep, forgetting his manners.</p> + +<p>‘I’ve got it,’ said a big mussel on a rock +close by him, ‘the magic stone that the +Magician does his enchantments with. He +dropped it out of his mouth and I shut my +shells on it—and now he’s sweeping up and +down the sea like a mad fish, looking for it—for +he knows he can never change into anything +else unless he gets it back. Here, take +the nasty thing, it’s making me feel quite ill.’</p> + +<p>It opened its shells wide, and Sep saw a +pearl. He reached out his hand and took it.</p> + +<p>‘That’s better,’ said the mussel, washing its +shells out with salt water.</p> + +<p>‘Can <em>I</em> do magic with it?’ Sep eagerly +asked.</p> + +<p>‘No,’ said the mussel sadly, ‘it’s of no use +to any one but the owner. Now, if I were you, +I’d get into a boat, and if your friend the wind +will help us, I believe we really can do the trick.’</p> + +<p>‘I’m at your service, of course,’ said the +wind, getting up instantly.</p> + +<p>The mussel whispered to the wind, who +rushed off at once; and Sep launched his boat.</p> + +<p><a name="png.182" id="png.182"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">143</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Now,’ said the mussel, ‘you get into the +very middle of the sea—or as near as you can +guess it. The wind will warn all the other +fishes.’ As he spoke he disappeared in the +dark waters.</p> + +<p>Sep got the boat into the middle of the sea—as +near as he could guess it—and waited.</p> + +<p>After a long time he saw something swirling +about in a sort of whirlpool about a hundred +yards from his boat, but when he tried to move +the boat towards it her bows ran on to something +hard.</p> + +<p>‘Keep still, keep still, keep still,’ cried +thousands and thousands of sharp, thin, little +voices. ‘You’ll kill us if you move.’</p> + +<p>Then he looked over the boat side, and saw +that the hard something was nothing but +thousands and thousands of mussels all jammed +close together, and through the clear water +more and more were coming and piling themselves +together. Almost at once his boat was +slowly lifted—the top of the mussel heap showed +through the water, and there he was, high and +dry on a mussel reef.</p> + +<p>And in all that part of the sea the water was +disappearing, and as far as the eye could reach +stretched a great plain of purple and gray—the +shells of countless mussels.</p> + +<p>Only at one spot there was still a splashing.</p> + +<p><a name="png.183" id="png.183"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">144</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Then a mussel opened its shell and spoke.</p> + +<p>‘We’ve got him,’ it said. ‘We’ve piled our +selves up till we’ve filled this part of the sea. +The wind warned all the good fishes—and +we’ve got the old traitor in a little pool over +there. Get out and walk over our backs—we’ll +all lie sideways so as not to hurt you. You +must catch the fish—but whatever you do don’t +kill it till we give the word.’</p> + +<p>Sep promised, and he got out and walked +over the mussels to the pool, and when he saw +the wicked soul of the Magician looking out +through the round eyes of a big finny fish he +remembered all that his Princess had suffered, +and he longed to draw his sword and kill the +wicked thing then and there.</p> + +<p>But he remembered his promise. He threw +a net about it, and dragged it back to the +boat.</p> + +<p>The mussels dispersed and let the boat down +again into the water—and he rowed home, +towing the evil fish in the net by a line.</p> + +<p>He beached the boat, and looked along the +shore. The shore looked a very odd colour. +And well it might, for every bit of the sand +was covered with purple-gray mussels. They +had all come up out of the sea—leaving just +one little bit of real yellow sand for him to +beach the boat on.</p> + +<p><a name="png.184" id="png.184"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">145</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Now,’ said millions of sharp thin little +voices, ‘Kill him, kill him!’</p> + +<p>Sep drew his sword and waded into the +shallow surf and killed the evil fish with one +strong stroke.</p> + +<p>Then such a shout went up all along the +shore as that shore had never heard; and all +along the shore where the mussels had been, +stood men in armour and men in smock-frocks +and men in leather aprons and huntsmen’s coats +and women and children—a whole nation of +people. Close by the boat stood a King and +Queen with crowns upon their heads.</p> + +<p>‘Thank you, Sep,’ said the King, ‘you’ve +saved us all. I am the King Mussel, doomed +to be a mussel so long as that wretch lived. +You have set us all free. And look!’</p> + +<p>Down the path from the shore came running +his own Princess, who hung round his neck +crying his name and looking at him with the +most beautiful eyes in the world.</p> + +<p>‘Come,’ said the Mussel King, ‘we have no +son. You shall be our son and reign after us.’</p> + +<p>‘Thank you,’ said Sep, ‘but <em>this</em> is my father,’ +and he presented the old fisherman to His +Majesty.</p> + +<p>‘Then let him come with us,’ said the King +royally, ‘he can help me reign, or fish in the +palace lake, whichever he prefers.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.185" id="png.185"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">146</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Thankee,’ said Sep’s father, ‘I’ll come and +fish.’</p> + +<p>‘Your mother too,’ said the Mussel Queen, +kissing Sep’s mother.</p> + +<p>‘Ah,’ said Sep’s mother, ‘you’re a lady, +every inch. I’ll go to the world’s end with +you.’</p> + +<p>So they all went back by way of the foreign +country where Sep had found his Princess, and +they called on the old lord. He had lost his +hump, and they easily persuaded him to come +with them.</p> + +<p>‘You can help me reign if you like, or we +have a nice book or two in the palace library,’ +said the Mussel King.</p> + +<p>‘Thank you,’ said the old lord, ‘I’ll come and +be your librarian if I may. Reigning isn’t at +all in my line.’</p> + +<p>Then they went on to Sep’s father-in-law, +and when he saw how happy they all were +together he said:</p> + +<p>‘Bless my beard but I’ve half a mind to +come with you.’</p> + +<p>‘Come along,’ said the Mussel King, ‘you +shall help me reign if you like … or….’</p> + +<p>‘No, thank you,’ said the other King very +quickly, ‘I’ve had enough of reigning. My +kingdom can buy a President and be a republic +if it likes. I’m going to catch butterflies.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.186" id="png.186"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">147</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>And so he does, most happily, up to this +very minute.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">And Sep and his dear Princess are as happy +as they deserve to be. Some people say we +are all as happy as we deserve to be—but I am +not sure.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="png.187" id="png.187"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">148</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><b>VI</b><br + />THE WHITE CAT</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> White Cat lived at the back of a shelf at +the darkest end of the inside attic which was +nearly dark all over. It had lived there for +years, because one of its white china ears was +chipped, so that it was no longer a possible +ornament for the spare bedroom.</p> + +<p>Tavy found it at the climax of a wicked and +glorious afternoon. He had been left alone. +The servants were the only other people in the +house. He had promised to be good. He +had meant to be good. And he had not been. +He had done everything you can think of. +He had walked into the duck pond, and not a +stitch of his clothes but had had to be changed. +He had climbed on a hay rick and fallen off it, +and had not broken his neck, which, as cook +told him, he richly deserved to do. He had +found a mouse in the trap and put it in the +kitchen tea-pot, so that when cook went to +make tea it jumped out at her, and affected +<a name="png.188" id="png.188"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">149</span><span class="ns"> + </span>her to screams followed by tears. Tavy was +sorry for this, of course, and said so like a man. +He had only, he explained, meant to give her +a little start. In the confusion that followed +the mouse, he had eaten all the black-currant +jam that was put out for kitchen tea, and +for this too, he apologised handsomely as +soon as it was pointed out to him. He had +broken a pane of the greenhouse with a stone +and…. But why pursue the painful theme? +The last thing he had done was to explore +the attic, where he was never allowed to go, +and to knock down the White Cat from its +shelf.</p> + +<p>The sound of its fall brought the servants. +The cat was not broken—only its other ear +was chipped. Tavy was put to bed. But he +got out as soon as the servants had gone downstairs, +crept up to the attic, secured the Cat, and +washed it in the bath. So that when mother +came back from London, Tavy, dancing impatiently +at the head of the stairs, in a very +wet night-gown, flung himself upon her and +cried, ‘I’ve been awfully naughty, and I’m +frightfully sorry, and please may I have the +White Cat for my very own?’</p> + +<p>He was much sorrier than he had expected +to be when he saw that mother was too tired +even to want to know, as she generally did, +<a name="png.189" id="png.189"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">150</span><span class="ns"> + </span>exactly how naughty he had been. She only +kissed him, and said:</p> + +<p>‘I am sorry you’ve been naughty, my darling. +Go back to bed now. Good-night.’</p> + +<p>Tavy was ashamed to say anything more +about the China Cat, so he went back to bed. +But he took the Cat with him, and talked to it +and kissed it, and went to sleep with its smooth +shiny shoulder against his cheek.</p> + +<p>In the days that followed, he was extravagantly +good. Being good seemed as easy +as being bad usually was. This may have +been because mother seemed so tired and ill; +and gentlemen in black coats and high hats +came to see mother, and after they had gone +she used to cry. (These things going on in a +house sometimes make people good; sometimes +they act just the other way.) Or it may have +been because he had the China Cat to talk to. +Anyhow, whichever way it was, at the end of +the week mother said:</p> + +<p>‘Tavy, you’ve been a dear good boy, and a +great comfort to me. You must have tried +very hard to be good.’</p> + +<p>It was difficult to say, ‘No, I haven’t, at +least not since the first day,’ but Tavy got it +said, and was hugged for his pains.</p> + +<p>‘You wanted,’ said mother, ‘the China Cat. +Well, you may have it.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.190" id="png.190"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">151</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘For my very own?’</p> + +<p>‘For your very own. But you must be +very careful not to break it. And you mustn’t +give it away. It goes with the house. Your +Aunt Jane made me promise to keep it in the +family. It’s very, very old. Don’t take it out +of doors for fear of accidents.’</p> + +<p>‘I love the White Cat, mother,’ said Tavy. +‘I love it better’n all my toys.’</p> + +<p>Then mother told Tavy several things, and +that night when he went to bed Tavy repeated +them all faithfully to the China Cat, who was +about six inches high and looked very intelligent.</p> + +<p>‘So you see,’ he ended, ‘the wicked lawyer’s +taken nearly all mother’s money, and we’ve +got to leave our own lovely big White House, +and go and live in a horrid little house with +another house glued on to its side. And mother +does hate it so.’</p> + +<p>‘I don’t wonder,’ said the China Cat very +distinctly.</p> + +<p>‘<em>What!</em>’ said Tavy, half-way into his night-shirt.</p> + +<p>‘I said, I don’t wonder, Octavius,’ said +the China Cat, and rose from her sitting position, +stretched her china legs and waved her white +china tail.</p> + +<p>‘You can speak?’ said Tavy.</p> + +<p><a name="png.191" id="png.191"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">152</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Can’t you see I can?—hear I mean?’ said +the Cat. ‘I belong to you now, so I can speak +to you. I couldn’t before. It wouldn’t have +been manners.’</p> + +<p>Tavy, his night-shirt round his neck, sat +down on the edge of the bed with his mouth +open.</p> + +<p>‘Come, don’t look so silly,’ said the Cat, +taking a walk along the high wooden mantelpiece, +‘any one would think you didn’t <em>like</em> me +to talk to you.’</p> + +<p>‘I <em>love</em> you to,’ said Tavy recovering himself +a little.</p> + +<p>‘Well then,’ said the Cat.</p> + +<p>‘May I touch you?’ Tavy asked timidly.</p> + +<p>‘Of course! I belong to you. Look out!’ +The China Cat gathered herself together and +jumped. Tavy caught her.</p> + +<p>It was quite a shock to find when one stroked +her that the China Cat, though alive, was still +china, hard, cold, and smooth to the touch, and +yet perfectly brisk and absolutely bendable as +any flesh and blood cat.</p> + +<p>‘Dear, dear white pussy,’ said Tavy, ‘I do +love you.’</p> + +<p>‘And I love you,’ purred the Cat, ‘otherwise +I should never have lowered myself to +begin a conversation.’</p> + +<p>‘I wish you were a real cat,’ said Tavy.</p> + +<p><a name="png.192" id="png.192"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">153</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘I am,’ said the Cat. ‘Now how shall we +amuse ourselves? I suppose you don’t care +for sport—mousing, I mean?’</p> + +<p>‘I never tried,’ said Tavy, ‘and I think I +rather wouldn’t.’</p> + +<p>‘Very well then, Octavius,’ said the Cat. +‘I’ll take you to the White Cat’s Castle. Get +into bed. Bed makes a good travelling carriage, +especially when you haven’t any other. Shut +your eyes.’</p> + +<p>Tavy did as he was told. Shut his eyes, +but could not keep them shut. He opened +them a tiny, tiny chink, and sprang up. He +was not in bed. He was on a couch of soft +beast-skin, and the couch stood in a splendid +hall, whose walls were of gold and ivory. By +him stood the White Cat, no longer china, but +real live cat—and fur—as cats should be.</p> + +<p>‘Here we are,’ she said. ‘The journey +didn’t take long, did it? Now we’ll have that +splendid supper, out of the fairy tale, with the +invisible hands waiting on us.’</p> + +<p>She clapped her paws—paws now as soft as +white velvet—and a table-cloth floated into the +room; then knives and forks and spoons and +glasses, the table was laid, the dishes drifted +in, and they began to eat. There happened to +be every single thing Tavy liked best to eat. +After supper there was music and singing, and +<a name="png.193" id="png.193"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">154</span><span class="ns"> + </span>Tavy, having kissed a white, soft, furry forehead, +went to bed in a gold four-poster with a counterpane +of butterflies’ wings. He awoke at home. +On the mantelpiece sat the White Cat, looking +as though butter would not melt in her mouth. +And all her furriness had gone with her voice. +She was silent—and china.</p> + +<p>Tavy spoke to her. But she would not +answer. Nor did she speak all day. Only at +night when he was getting into bed she suddenly +mewed, stretched, and said:</p> + +<p>‘Make haste, there’s a play acted to-night +at my castle.’</p> + +<p>Tavy made haste, and was rewarded by +another glorious evening in the castle of the +White Cat.</p> + +<p>And so the weeks went on. Days full of an +ordinary little boy’s joys and sorrows, goodnesses +and badnesses. Nights spent by a little +Prince in the Magic Castle of the White Cat.</p> + +<p>Then came the day when Tavy’s mother +spoke to him, and he, very scared and serious, +told the China Cat what she had said.</p> + +<p>‘I knew this would happen,’ said the Cat. +‘It always does. So you’re to leave your house +next week. Well, there’s only one way out of +the difficulty. Draw your sword, Tavy, and +cut off my head and tail.’</p> + +<p>‘And then will you turn into a Princess, and +<a name="png.194" id="png.194"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">155</span><span class="ns"> + </span>shall I have to marry you?’ Tavy asked +with horror.</p> + +<p>‘No, dear—no,’ said the Cat reassuringly. +‘I sha’n’t turn into anything. But you and +mother will turn into happy people. I shall +just not <em>be</em> any more—for you.’</p> + +<p>‘Then I won’t do it,’ said Tavy.</p> + +<p>‘But you must. Come, draw your sword, +like a brave fairy Prince, and cut off my head.’</p> + +<p>The sword hung above his bed, with the +helmet and breast-plate Uncle James had +given him last Christmas.</p> + +<p>‘I’m not a fairy Prince,’ said the child. +‘I’m Tavy—and I love you.’</p> + +<p>‘You love your mother better,’ said the Cat. +‘Come cut my head off. The story always +ends like that. You love mother best. It’s +for her sake.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes.’ Tavy was trying to think it out. +‘Yes, I love mother best. But I love <em>you</em>. +And I won’t cut off your head,—no, not even +for mother.’</p> + +<p>‘Then,’ said the Cat, ‘I must do what I +can!’</p> + +<p>She stood up, waving her white china tail, +and before Tavy could stop her she had leapt, +not, as before, into his arms, but on to the wide +hearthstone.</p> + +<p>It was all over—the China Cat lay broken <!-- Transcriber's note: original reads "The" --> +<a name="png.195" id="png.195"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">156</span><span class="ns"> + </span>inside the high brass fender. The sound of +the smash brought mother running.</p> + +<p>‘What is it?’ she cried. ‘Oh, Tavy—the +China Cat!’</p> + +<p>‘She would do it,’ sobbed Tavy. ‘She +wanted me to cut off her head’n I wouldn’t.’</p> + +<p>‘Don’t talk nonsense, dear,’ said mother +sadly. ‘That only makes it worse. Pick up +the pieces.’</p> + +<p>‘There’s only two pieces,’ said Tavy. +‘Couldn’t you stick her together again?’</p> + +<p>‘Why,’ said mother, holding the pieces +close to the candle. ‘She’s been broken before. +And mended.’</p> + +<p>‘I knew that,’ said Tavy, still sobbing. +‘Oh, my dear White Cat, oh, oh, oh!’ The +last ‘oh’ was a howl of anguish.</p> + +<p>‘Come, crying won’t mend her,’ said mother. +‘Look, there’s another piece of her, close to +the shovel.’</p> + +<p>Tavy stooped.</p> + +<p>‘That’s not a piece of cat,’ he said, and +picked it up.</p> + +<p>It was a pale parchment label, tied to a key. +Mother held it to the candle and read: ‘<i>Key +of the lock behind the knot in the mantelpiece +panel in the white parlour.</i>’</p> + +<p>‘Tavy! I wonder! But … where did it +come from?’</p> + +<p><a name="png.196" id="png.196"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">157</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Out of my White Cat, I s’pose,’ said Tavy, +his tears stopping. ‘Are you going to see +what’s in the mantelpiece panel, mother? +Are you? Oh, do let me come and see +too!’</p> + +<p>‘You don’t deserve,’ mother began, and +ended,—‘Well, put your dressing-gown on +then.’</p> + +<p>They went down the gallery past the pictures +and the stuffed birds and tables with china on +them and downstairs on to the white parlour. +But they could not see any knot in the mantelpiece +panel, because it was all painted white. +But mother’s fingers felt softly all over it, and +found a round raised spot. It was a knot, +sure enough. Then she scraped round it with +her scissors, till she loosened the knot, and +poked it out with the scissors point.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t suppose there’s any keyhole there +really,’ she said. But there was. And what +is more, the key fitted. The panel swung open, +and inside was a little cupboard with two +shelves. What was on the shelves? There +were old laces and old embroideries, old +jewelry and old silver; there was money, and +there were dusty old papers that Tavy thought +most uninteresting. But mother did not think +them uninteresting. She laughed, and cried, +or nearly cried, and said:</p> + +<p><a name="png.197" id="png.197"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">158</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Oh, Tavy, this was why the China Cat +was to be taken such care of!’ Then she told +him how, a hundred and fifty years before, the +Head of the House had gone out to fight for +the Pretender, and had told his daughter to +take the greatest care of the China Cat. ‘I +will send you word of the reason by a sure +hand,’ he said, for they parted on the open +square, where any spy might have overheard +anything. And he had been killed by an +ambush not ten miles from home,—and his +daughter had never known. But she had kept +the Cat.</p> + +<p>‘And now it has saved us,’ said mother. +‘We can stay in the dear old house, and there +are two other houses that will belong to us too, +I think. And, oh, Tavy, would you like some +pound-cake and ginger-wine, dear?’</p> + +<p>Tavy did like. And had it.</p> + +<p>The China Cat was mended, but it was +put in the glass-fronted corner cupboard in +the drawing-room, because it had saved the +House.</p> + +<p>Now I dare say you’ll think this is all nonsense, +and a made-up story. Not at all. If it +were, how would you account for Tavy’s finding, +the very next night, fast asleep on his +pillow, his own white Cat—the furry friend +that the China Cat used to turn into every +<a name="png.198" id="png.198"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">159</span><span class="ns"> + </span>evening—the dear hostess who had amused +him so well in the White Cat’s fairy Palace?</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">It was she, beyond a doubt, and that was +why Tavy didn’t mind a bit about the China +Cat being taken from him and kept under +glass. You may think that it was just any old +stray white cat that had come in by accident. +Tavy knows better. It has the very same +tender tone in its purr that the magic White Cat +had. It will not talk to Tavy, it is true; but +Tavy can and does talk to it. But the thing +that makes it perfectly certain that it is the +White Cat is that the tips of its two ears are +missing—just as the China Cat’s ears were. If +you say that it might have lost its ear-tips in +battle you are the kind of person who always +<em>makes</em> difficulties, and you may be quite sure +that the kind of splendid magics that happened +to Tavy will never happen to <em>you</em>.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="png.199" id="png.199"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">160</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><b>VII</b><br + />BELINDA AND BELLAMANT; OR<br + />THE BELLS OF CARRILLON-LAND</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> is a certain country where a king is +never allowed to reign while a queen can be +found. They like queens much better than +kings in that country. I can’t think why. If +some one has tried to teach you a little history, +you will perhaps think that this is the Salic law. +But it isn’t. In the biggest city of that odd +country there is a great bell-tower (higher +than the clock-tower of the Houses of Parliament, +where they put M.P.’s who forget +their manners). This bell-tower had seven +bells in it, very sweet-toned splendid bells, +made expressly to ring on the joyful occasions +when a princess was born who would be queen +some day. And the great tower was built +expressly for the bells to ring in. So you see +what a lot they thought of queens in that +country. Now in all the bells there are bell-people—it +is their voices that you hear when +<a name="png.200" id="png.200"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">161</span><span class="ns"> + </span>the bells ring. All that about its being the +clapper of the bell is mere nonsense, and would +hardly deceive a child. I don’t know why +people say such things. Most Bell-people are +very energetic busy folk, who love the sound of +their own voices, and hate being idle, and +when nearly two hundred years had gone by, +and no princesses had been born, they got tired +of living in bells that were never rung. So +they slipped out of the belfry one fine frosty +night, and left the big beautiful bells empty, +and went off to find other homes. One of +them went to live in a dinner-bell, and one in a +school-bell, and the rest all found homes—they +did not mind where—just anywhere, in fact, +where they could find any Bell-person kind +enough to give them board and lodging. And +every one was surprised at the increased loudness +in the voices of these hospitable bells. For, +of course, the Bell-people from the belfry did +their best to help in the housework as polite +guests should, and always added their voices +to those of their hosts on all occasions when +bell-talk was called for. And the seven big +beautiful bells in the belfry were left hollow +and dark and quite empty, except for the <!-- Transcriber's note: original reads "the the" --> +clappers who did not care about the comforts +of a home.</p> + +<p>Now of course a good house does not +<a name="png.201" id="png.201"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">162</span><span class="ns"> + </span>remain empty long, especially when there is no +rent to pay, and in a very short time the seven +bells all had tenants, and they were all the kind +of folk that no respectable Bell-people would +care to be acquainted with.</p> + +<p>They had been turned out of other bells—cracked +bells and broken bells, the bells of +horses that had been lost in snowstorms or of +ships that had gone down at sea. They hated +work, and they were a glum, silent, disagreeable +people, but as far as they could be pleased +about anything they were pleased to live in +bells that were never rung, in houses where +there was nothing to do. They sat hunched up +under the black domes of their houses, dressed +in darkness and cobwebs, and their only +pleasure was idleness, their only feasts the +thick dusty silence that lies heavy in all belfries +where the bells never ring. They hardly ever +spoke even to each other, and in the whispers +that good Bell-people talk in among themselves, +and that no one can hear but the bat whose ear +for music is very fine and who has himself a +particularly high voice, and when they did +speak they quarrelled.</p> + +<p>And when at last the bells <em>were</em> rung for the +birth of a Princess the wicked Bell-people were +furious. Of course they had to <em>ring</em>—a bell +can’t help that when the rope is pulled—but +<a name="png.202" id="png.202"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">163</span><span class="ns"> + </span>their voices were so ugly that people were quite +shocked.</p> + +<p>‘What poor taste our ancestors must have +had,’ they said, ‘to think these were good bells!’</p> + +<p>(You remember the bells had not rung for +nearly two hundred years.)</p> + +<p>‘Dear me,’ said the King to the Queen, +‘what odd ideas people had in the old days. +I always understood that these bells had +beautiful voices.’</p> + +<p>‘They’re quite hideous,’ said the Queen. +And so they were. Now that night the lazy +Bell-folk came down out of the belfry full of +anger against the Princess whose birth had +disturbed their idleness. There is no anger +like that of a lazy person who is made to work +against his will.</p> + +<p>And they crept out of the dark domes of +their houses and came down in their dust +dresses and cobweb cloaks, and crept up to the +palace where every one had gone to bed long +before, and stood round the mother-of-pearl +cradle where the baby princess lay asleep. +And they reached their seven dark right hands +out across the white satin coverlet, and the +oldest and hoarsest and laziest said:</p> + +<p>‘She shall grow uglier every day, except +Sundays, and every Sunday she shall be seven +times prettier than the Sunday before.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.203" id="png.203"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">164</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Why not uglier every day, and a double +dose on Sunday?’ asked the youngest and +spitefullest of the wicked Bell-people.</p> + +<p>‘Because there’s no rule without an exception,’ +said the eldest and hoarsest and laziest, +‘and she’ll feel it all the more if she’s pretty +once a week. And,’ he added, ‘this shall go +on till she finds a bell that doesn’t ring, and +can’t ring, and never will ring, and wasn’t made +to ring.’</p> + +<p>‘Why not for ever?’ asked the young and +spiteful.</p> + +<p>‘Nothing goes on for ever,’ said the eldest +Bell-person, ‘not even ill-luck. And we have +to leave her a way out. It doesn’t matter. She’ll +never know what it is. Let alone finding it.’</p> + +<p>Then they went back to the belfry and +rearranged as well as they could the comfortable +web-and-owls’ nest furniture of their +houses which had all been shaken up and +disarranged by that absurd ringing of bells +at the birth of a Princess that nobody could +really be pleased about.</p> + +<p>When the Princess was two weeks old +the King said to the Queen:</p> + +<p>‘My love—the Princess is not so handsome +as I thought she was.’</p> + +<p>‘Nonsense, Henry,’ said the Queen, ‘the +light’s not good, that’s all.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.204" id="png.204"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">165</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Next day—it was Sunday—the King pulled +back the lace curtains of the cradle and said:</p> + +<p>‘The light’s good enough now—and you +see <span class="nw">she’s——’</span></p> + +<p>He stopped.</p> + +<p>‘It <em>must</em> have been the light,’ he said, ‘she +looks all right to-day.’</p> + +<p>‘Of course she does, a precious,’ said the +Queen.</p> + +<p>But on Monday morning His Majesty was +quite sure really that the Princess was rather +plain, for a Princess. And when Sunday +came, and the Princess had on her best robe +and the cap with the little white ribbons in +the frill, he rubbed his nose and said there +was no doubt dress did make a great deal +of difference. For the Princess was now as +pretty as a new daisy.</p> + +<p>The Princess was several years old before +her mother could be got to see that it really +was better for the child to wear plain clothes +and a veil on week days. On Sundays, of +course she could wear her best frock and a +clean crown just like anybody else.</p> + +<p>Of course nobody ever told the Princess +how ugly she was. She wore a veil on week-days, +and so did every one else in the palace, +and she was never allowed to look in the +glass except on Sundays, so that she had +<a name="png.205" id="png.205"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">166</span><span class="ns"> + </span>no idea that she was not as pretty all the +week as she was on the first day of it. She +grew up therefore quite contented. But the +parents were in despair.</p> + +<p>‘Because,’ said King Henry, ‘it’s high time +she was married. We ought to choose a king +to rule the realm—I have always looked +forward to her marrying at twenty-one—and to +our retiring on a modest competence to some +nice little place in the country where we could +have a few pigs.’</p> + +<p>‘And a cow,’ said the Queen, wiping her +eyes.</p> + +<p>‘And a pony and trap,’ said the King.</p> + +<p>‘And hens,’ said the Queen, ‘yes. And +now it can never, never be. Look at the +child! I just ask you! Look at her!’</p> + +<p>‘<em>No</em>,’ said the King firmly, ‘I haven’t done +that since she was ten, except on Sundays.’</p> + +<p>‘Couldn’t we get a prince to agree to a +“Sundays only” marriage—not let him see her +during the week?’</p> + +<p>‘Such an unusual arrangement,’ said the +King, ‘would involve very awkward explanations, +and I can’t think of any except the +true ones, which would be quite impossible +to give. You see, we should want a first-class +prince, and no really high-toned Highness +would take a wife on those terms.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.206" id="png.206"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">167</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘It’s a thoroughly comfortable kingdom,’ +said the Queen doubtfully. ‘The young man +would be handsomely provided for for life.’</p> + +<p>‘I couldn’t marry Belinda to a time-server +or a place-worshipper,’ said the King decidedly.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the Princess had taken the +matter into her own hands. She had fallen +in love.</p> + +<p>You know, of course, that a handsome book +is sent out every year to all the kings who +have daughters to marry. It is rather like +the illustrated catalogues of Liberty’s or Peter +Robinson’s, only instead of illustrations showing +furniture or ladies’ cloaks and dresses, the +pictures are all of princes who are of an +age to be married, and are looking out for +suitable wives. The book is called the ‘Royal +Match Catalogue Illustrated,’—and besides the +pictures of the princes it has little printed +bits about their incomes, accomplishments, <!-- comma missing from original --> +prospects, and tempers, and relations.</p> + +<p>Now the Princess saw this book—which +is never shown to princesses, but only to +their parents—it was carelessly left lying on +the round table in the parlour. She looked +all through it, and she hated each prince +more than the one before till she came to +the very end, and on the last page of all, +<a name="png.207" id="png.207"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">168</span><span class="ns"> + </span>screwed away in a corner, was the picture of +a prince who was quite as good-looking as +a prince has any call to be.</p> + +<p>‘I like <em>you</em>,’ said Belinda softly. Then she +read the little bit of print underneath.</p> + +<p><i>Prince Bellamant, aged twenty-four. Wants +Princess who doesn’t object to a christening curse. +Nature of curse only revealed in the strictest +confidence. Good tempered. Comfortably off. +Quiet habits. No relations.</i></p> + +<p>‘Poor dear,’ said the Princess. ‘I wonder +what the curse is! I’m sure <em>I</em> shouldn’t mind!’</p> + +<p>The blue dusk of evening was deepening in +the garden outside. The Princess rang for the +lamp and went to draw the curtain. There +was a rustle and a faint high squeak—and +something black flopped on to the floor and +fluttered there.</p> + +<p>‘Oh—it’s a bat,’ cried the Princess, as the +lamp came in. ‘I don’t like bats.’</p> + +<p>‘Let me fetch a dust-pan and brush and +sweep the nasty thing away,’ said the parlourmaid.</p> + +<p>‘No, no,’ said Belinda, ‘it’s hurt, poor dear,’ +and though she hated bats she picked it up. +It was horribly cold to touch, one wing dragged +loosely. ‘You can go, Jane,’ said the Princess +to the parlourmaid.</p> + +<p><!-- original has extraneous opening quote +-->Then she got a big velvet-covered box +<a name="png.208" id="png.208"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">169</span><span class="ns"> + </span>that had had chocolate in it, and put some +cotton wool in it and said to the Bat—</p> + +<p>‘You poor dear, is that comfortable?’ and +the Bat said:</p> + +<p>‘Quite, thanks.’</p> + +<p>‘Good gracious,’ said the Princess jumping. +‘I didn’t know bats could talk.’</p> + +<p>‘Every one can talk,’ said the Bat, ‘but not +every one can hear other people talking. You +have a fine ear as well as a fine heart.’</p> + +<p>‘Will your wing ever get well?’ asked the +Princess.</p> + +<p>‘I hope so,’ said the Bat. ‘But let’s talk <!-- Transciber's note: original lacks closing quote --> +about you. Do you know why you wear a veil +every day except Sundays?’</p> + +<p>‘Doesn’t everybody?’ asked Belinda.</p> + +<p>‘Only here in the palace,’ said the Bat, +‘that’s on your account.’</p> + +<p>‘But why?’ asked the Princess.</p> + +<p>‘Look in the glass and you’ll know.’</p> + +<p>‘But it’s wicked to look in the glass except +on Sundays—and besides they’re all put away,’ +said the Princess.</p> + +<p>‘If I were you,’ said the Bat, ‘I should go +up into the attic where the youngest kitchenmaid +sleeps. Feel between the thatch and the +wall just above her pillow, and you’ll find a little +round looking-glass. But come back here +before you look at it.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.209" id="png.209"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">170</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>The Princess did exactly what the Bat told +her to do, and when she had come back into +the parlour and shut the door she looked in the +little round glass that the youngest kitchen-maid’s +sweetheart had given her. And when +she saw her ugly, ugly, ugly face—for you must +remember she had been growing uglier every +day since she was born—she screamed and then +she said:</p> + +<p>‘That’s not me, it’s a horrid picture.’</p> + +<p>‘It <em>is</em> you, though,’ said the Bat firmly but +kindly; ‘and now you see why you wear a veil all +the week—and only look in the glass on Sunday.’</p> + +<p>‘But why,’ asked the Princess in tears, ‘why +don’t I look like that in the Sunday looking-glasses?’</p> + +<p>‘Because you aren’t like that on Sundays,’ +the Bat replied. ‘Come,’ it went on, ‘stop +crying. I didn’t tell you the dread secret of your +ugliness just to make you cry—but because I +know the way for you to be as pretty all the +week as you are on Sundays, and since you’ve +been so kind to me I’ll tell you. Sit down +close beside me, it fatigues me to speak loud.’</p> + +<p>The Princess did, and listened through her +veil and her tears, while the Bat told her all +that I began this story by telling you.</p> + +<p>‘My great-great-great-great-grandfather +heard the tale years ago,’ he said, ‘up in the +<a name="png.210" id="png.210"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">171</span><span class="ns"> + </span>dark, dusty, beautiful, comfortable, cobwebby +belfry, and I have heard scraps of it myself +when the evil Bell-people were quarrelling, +or talking in their sleep, lazy things!’</p> + +<p>‘It’s very good of you to tell me all this,’ +said Belinda, ‘but what am I to do?’</p> + +<p>‘You must find the bell that doesn’t ring, and +can’t ring, and never will ring, and wasn’t made +to ring.’</p> + +<p>‘If I were a prince,’ said the Princess, ‘I +could go out and seek my fortune.’</p> + +<p>‘Princesses have fortunes as well as princes,’ +said the Bat.</p> + +<p>‘But father and mother would never let +me go and look for mine.’</p> + +<p>‘Think!’ said the Bat, ‘perhaps you’ll find +a way.’</p> + +<p>So Belinda thought and thought. And at +last she got the book that had the portraits of +eligible princes in it, and she wrote to the +prince who had the christening curse—and +this is what she said:</p> + +<div class="blockq"> +<p><br class="ns" />‘Princess Belinda of Carrillon-land is not +afraid of christening curses. If Prince Bellamant +would like to marry her he had better +apply to her Royal Father in the usual way.</p> + +<p>‘<i>P.S.</i>—I have seen your portrait.’<br class="ns" /></p> +</div> + +<p>When the Prince got this letter he was very +<a name="png.211" id="png.211"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">172</span><span class="ns"> + </span>pleased, and wrote at once for Princess +Belinda’s likeness. Of course they sent him a +picture of her Sunday face, which was the most +beautiful face in the world. As soon as he +saw it he knew that this was not only the most +beautiful face in the world, but the dearest, so +he wrote to her father by the next post—applying +for her hand in the usual way and +enclosing the most respectable references. +The King told the Princess.</p> + +<p>‘Come,’ said he, ‘what do you say to this +young man?’</p> + +<p>And the Princess, of course, said, ‘Yes, +please.’</p> + +<p>So the wedding-day was fixed for the first +Sunday in June.</p> + +<p>But when the Prince arrived with all his +glorious following of courtiers and men-at-arms, +with two pink peacocks and a crown-case full of +diamonds for his bride, he absolutely refused to +be married on a Sunday. Nor would he give +any reason for his refusal. And then the King +lost his temper and broke off the match, and +the Prince went away.</p> + +<p>But he did not go very far. That night he +bribed a page-boy to show him which was the +Princess’s room, and he climbed up by the +jasmine through the dark rose-scented night, +and tapped at the window.</p> + +<p><a name="png.212" id="png.212"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">173</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Who’s dhere?’ said the Princess inside in +the dark.</p> + +<p>‘Me,’ said the Prince in the dark outside.</p> + +<p>‘Thed id wasnd’t true?’ said the Princess. +‘They toad be you’d ridded away.’</p> + +<p>‘What a cold you’ve got, my Princess,’ said +the Prince hanging on by the jasmine boughs.</p> + +<p>‘It’s not a cold,’ sniffed the Princess.</p> + +<p>‘Then … oh you dear … were you +crying because you thought I’d gone?’ he +said.</p> + +<p>‘I suppose so,’ said she.</p> + +<p>He said, ‘You dear!’ again, and kissed her +hands.</p> + +<p>‘<em>Why</em> wouldn’t you be married on a +Sunday?’ she asked.</p> + +<p>‘It’s the curse, dearest,’ he explained, ‘I +couldn’t tell any one but you. The fact is +Malevola wasn’t asked to my christening so +she doomed me to be … well, she said +“moderately good-looking all the week, and +too ugly for words on Sundays.” So you see! +You <em>will</em> be married on a week-day, won’t +you?’</p> + +<p>‘But I can’t,’ said the Princess, ‘because +I’ve got a curse too—only I’m ugly all the +week and pretty on Sundays.’</p> + +<p>‘How extremely tiresome,’ said the Prince, +‘but can’t you be cured?’</p> + +<p><a name="png.213" id="png.213"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">174</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Oh yes,’ said the Princess, and told him +how. ‘And you,’ she asked, ‘is yours quite +incurable?’</p> + +<p>‘Not at all,’ he answered, ‘I’ve only got to +stay under water for five minutes and the spell +will be broken. But you see, beloved, the +difficulty is that I can’t do it. I’ve practised +regularly, from a boy, in the sea, and in the +swimming bath, and even in my wash-hand +basin—hours at a time I’ve practised—but I +never can keep under more than two minutes.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh dear,’ said the Princess, ‘this is +dreadful.’</p> + +<p>‘It is rather trying,’ the Prince answered.</p> + +<p>‘You’re sure you like me,’ she asked +suddenly, ‘now you know that I’m only pretty +once a week?’</p> + +<p>‘I’d die for you,’ said he.</p> + +<p>‘Then I’ll tell you what. Send all your +courtiers away, and take a situation as under-gardener +here—I know we want one. And +then every night I’ll climb down the jasmine +and we’ll go out together and seek our fortune. +I’m sure we shall find it.’</p> + +<p>And they did go out. The very next night, +and the next, and the next, and the next, and +the next, and the next. And they did not find +their fortunes, but they got fonder and fonder +of each other. They could not see each other’s +<a name="png.214" id="png.214"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">175</span><span class="ns"> + </span>faces, but they held hands as they went along +through the dark.</p> + +<p>And on the seventh night, as they passed by +a house that showed chinks of light through its +shutters, they heard a bell being rung outside +for supper, a bell with a very loud and beautiful +voice. But instead of saying—</p> + +<p>‘Supper’s ready,’ as any one would have +expected, the bell was saying—</p> + +<div class="poem width30"> +<div class="stanza"><small>Ding dong dell!</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small><em>I</em> could tell</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>Where you ought to go</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>To break the spell.</small></div> +</div> + +<p>Then some one left off ringing the bell, so +of course it couldn’t say any more. So the two +went on. A little way down the road a cow-bell +tinkled behind the wet hedge of the lane. +And it said—not, ‘Here I am, quite safe,’ as a +cow-bell should, but—</p> + +<div class="poem width30"> +<div class="stanza"><small>Ding dong dell</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>All will be well</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>If you…</small></div> +</div> + +<p>Then the cow stopped walking and began to +eat, so the bell couldn’t say any more. The +Prince and Princess went on, and you will not +be surprised to hear that they heard the voices +of five more bells that night. The next was a +school-bell. The schoolmaster’s little boy +<a name="png.215" id="png.215"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">176</span><span class="ns"> + </span>thought it would be fun to ring it very late +at night—but his father came and caught him +before the bell could say any more than—</p> + +<div class="poem width30"> +<div class="stanza"><small>Ding a dong dell</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>You can break up the spell</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>By taking…</small></div> +</div> + +<p class="cont">So that was no good.</p> + +<p>Then there were the three bells that were +the sign over the door of an inn where people +were happily dancing to a fiddle, because there +was a wedding. These bells said:</p> + +<div class="poem width30"> +<div class="stanza"><small>We are the</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>Merry three</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>Bells, bells, bells.</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>You are two</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>To undo</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>Spells, spells, spells…</small></div> +</div> + +<p>Then the wind who was swinging the bells +suddenly thought of an appointment he had +made with a pine forest, to get up an entertaining +imitation of sea-waves for the benefit of +the forest nymphs who had never been to the +seaside, and he went off—so, of course, the +bells couldn’t ring any more, and the Prince +and Princess went on down the dark road.</p> + +<p>There was a cottage and the Princess pulled +her veil closely over her face, for yellow light +streamed from its open door—and it was a +Wednesday.</p> + +<p><a name="png.216" id="png.216"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">177</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Inside a little boy was sitting on the floor—quite +a little boy—he ought to have been in +bed long before, and I don’t know why he +wasn’t. And he was ringing a little tinkling +bell that had dropped off a sleigh.</p> + +<p>And this little bell said:</p> + +<div class="poem width60"> +<div class="stanza"><small>Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, I’m a little sleigh-bell,</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>But I know what I know, and I’ll tell, tell, tell.</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>Find the Enchanter of the Ringing Well,</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>He will show you how to break the spell, spell, spell.</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, I’m a little sleigh-bell,</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>But I know what I know….</small></div> +</div> + +<p class="cont">And so on, over and over, again and again, +because the little boy was quite contented to +go on shaking his sleigh-bell for ever and ever.</p> + +<p>‘So now we know,’ said the Prince, ‘isn’t +that glorious?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, very, but where’s the Enchanter of +the Ringing Well?’ said the Princess doubtfully.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, I’ve got <em>his</em> address in my pocket-book,’ +said the Prince. ‘He’s my god-father. +He was one of the references I gave your +father.’</p> + +<p>So the next night the Prince brought a +horse to the garden, and he and the Princess +mounted, and rode, and rode, and rode, and in +the grey dawn they came to Wonderwood, and +<a name="png.217" id="png.217"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">178</span><span class="ns"> + </span>in the very middle of that the Magician’s Palace +stands.</p> + +<p>The Princess did not like to call on a perfect +stranger so very early in the morning, so they +decided to wait a little and look about them.</p> + +<p>The castle was very beautiful, decorated +with a conventional design of bells and bell +ropes, carved in white stone.</p> + +<p>Luxuriant plants of American bell-vine +covered the drawbridge and portcullis. On a +green lawn in front of the castle was a well, +with a curious bell-shaped covering suspended +over it. The lovers leaned over the mossy +fern-grown wall of the well, and, looking down, +they could see that the narrowness of the well +only lasted for a few feet, and below that it +spread into a cavern where water lay in a +big pool.</p> + +<p>‘What cheer?’ said a pleasant voice behind +them. It was the Enchanter, an early riser, +like Darwin was, and all other great scientific +men.</p> + +<p>They told him what cheer.</p> + +<p>‘But,’ Prince Bellamant ended, ‘it’s really +no use. I can’t keep under water more than +two minutes however much I try. And my +precious Belinda’s not likely to find any silly +old bell that doesn’t ring, and can’t ring, and +never will ring, and was never made to ring.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.218" id="png.218"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">179</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Ho, ho,’ laughed the Enchanter with the +soft full laughter of old age. ‘You’ve come to +the right shop. Who told you?’</p> + +<p>‘The bells,’ said Belinda.</p> + +<p>‘Ah, yes.’ The old man frowned kindly +upon them. ‘You must be very fond of each +other?’</p> + +<p>‘We are,’ said the two together.</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ the Enchanter answered, ‘because +only true lovers can hear the true speech of +the bells, and then only when they’re together. +Well, there’s the bell!’</p> + +<p>He pointed to the covering of the well, went +forward, and touched some lever or spring. The +covering swung out from above the well, and +hung over the grass grey with the dew of dawn.</p> + +<p>‘<em>That?</em>’ said Bellamant.</p> + +<p>‘That,’ said his god-father. ‘It doesn’t +ring, and it can’t ring, and it never will ring, and +it was never made to ring. Get into it.’</p> + +<p>‘Eh?’ said Bellamant forgetting his manners.</p> + +<p>The old man took a hand of each and led +them under the bell.</p> + +<p>They looked up. It had windows of thick +glass, and high seats about four feet from its +edge, running all round inside.</p> + +<p>‘Take your seats,’ said the Enchanter.</p> + +<p>Bellamant lifted his Princess to the bench +and leaped up beside her.</p> + +<p><a name="png.219" id="png.219"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">180</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Now,’ said the old man, ‘sit still, hold each +other’s hands, and for your lives don’t move.’</p> + +<p>He went away, and next moment they felt +the bell swing in the air. It swung round till +once more it was over the well, and then it +went down, down, down.</p> + +<p>‘I’m not afraid, with you,’ said Belinda, +because she was, dreadfully.</p> + +<p>Down went the bell. The glass windows +leaped into light, looking through them the +two could see blurred glories of lamps in the +side of the cave, magic lamps, or perhaps merely +electric, which, curiously enough have ceased +to seem magic to us nowadays. Then with a +plop the lower edge of the bell met the water, +the water rose inside it, a little, then not any +more. And the bell went down, down, and +above their heads the green water lapped +against the windows of the bell.</p> + +<p>‘You’re under water—if we stay five minutes,’ +Belinda whispered.</p> + +<p>‘Yes, dear,’ said Bellamant, and pulled out +his ruby-studded chronometer.</p> + +<p>‘It’s five minutes for you, but oh!’ cried +Belinda, ‘it’s <em>now</em> for me. For I’ve found the +bell that doesn’t ring, and can’t ring, and never +will ring, and wasn’t made to ring. Oh +Bellamant dearest, it’s Thursday. <em>Have</em> I got +my Sunday face?’</p> + +<p><a name="png.220" id="png.220"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">181</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>She tore away her veil, and his eyes, fixed +upon her face, could not leave it.</p> + +<p>‘Oh dream of all the world’s delight,’ he +murmured, ‘how beautiful you are.’</p> + +<p>Neither spoke again till a sudden little +shock told them that the bell was moving up +again.</p> + +<p>‘Nonsense,’ said Bellamant, ‘it’s not five +minutes.’</p> + +<p>But when they looked at the ruby-studded +chronometer, it was nearly three-quarters of +an hour. But then, of course, the well was +enchanted!</p> + +<p>‘Magic? Nonsense,’ said the old man when +they hung about him with thanks and pretty +words. ‘It’s only a diving-bell. My own +invention.’</p> + +<div class="blockq fivestar">* * * * *</div> + +<p>So they went home and were married, and +the Princess did not wear a veil at the wedding. +She said she had had enough veils to last her +time.</p> + +<div class="blockq fivestar">* * * * *</div> + +<p>And a year and a day after that a little +daughter was born to them.</p> + +<p>‘Now sweetheart,’ said King Bellamant—he +was king now because the old king and +queen had retired from the business, and were +keeping pigs and hens in the country as they +<a name="png.221" id="png.221"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">182</span><span class="ns"> + </span>had always planned to do—‘dear sweetheart +and life’s love, I am going to ring the bells +with my own hands, to show how glad I am +for you, and for the child, and for our good life +together.’</p> + +<p>So he went out. It was very dark, because +the baby princess had chosen to be born at +midnight.</p> + +<p>The King went out to the belfry, that stood +in the great, bare, quiet, moonlit square, and +he opened the door. The furry-pussy bell-ropes, +like huge caterpillars, hung on the first +loft. The King began to climb the curly-wurly +stone stair. And as he went up he heard +a noise, the strangest noises, stamping and +rustling and deep breathings.</p> + +<p>He stood still in the ringers’ loft where the +pussy-furry caterpillary bell-robes hung, and +from the belfry above he heard the noise of +strong fighting, and mixed with it the sound +of voices angry and desperate, but with a noble +note that thrilled the soul of the hearer like +the sound of the trumpet in battle. And the +voices cried:</p> + +<div class="poem width60"> +<div class="stanza"><small>Down, down—away, away,</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>When good has come ill may not stay,</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>Out, out, into the night,</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>The belfry bells are ours by right!</small></div> +</div> + +<p><a name="png.222" id="png.222"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">183</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>And the words broke and joined again, like +water when it flows against the piers of a +bridge. ‘Down, <span class="nw">down——.’</span> ‘Ill may not +<span class="nw">stay——.’</span> ‘Good has <span class="nw">come——.’</span> ‘Away, +<span class="nw">away——.’</span> And the joining came like the +sound of the river that flows free again.</p> + +<div class="poem width60"> +<div class="stanza"><small>Out, out, into the night,</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>The belfry bells are ours by right!</small></div> +</div> + +<p>And then, as King Bellamant stood there, +thrilled and yet, as it were, turned to stone, by +the magic of this conflict that raged above him, +there came a sweeping rush down the belfry +ladder. The lantern he carried showed him a +rout of little, dark, evil people, clothed in dust +and cobwebs, that scurried down the wooden +steps gnashing their teeth and growling in the +bitterness of a deserved defeat. They passed +and there was silence. Then the King flew +from rope to rope pulling lustily, and from +above, the bells answered in their own clear +beautiful voices—because the good Bell-folk +had driven out the usurpers and had come to +their own again.</p> + +<div class="poem width60"> +<div class="stanza"><small>Ring-a-ring-a-ring-a-ring-a-ring! Ring, bell!</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>A little baby comes on earth to dwell. Ring, bell!</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>Sound, bell! Sound! Swell!</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>Ring for joy and wish her well!</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small><a name="png.223" id="png.223"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">184</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>May her life tell</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>No tale of ill-spell!</small></div> +<div class="stanza"><small>Ring, bell! Joy, bell! Love, bell! Ring!</small></div> +</div> + +<div class="blockq fivestar">* * * * *</div> + +<p>‘But I don’t see,’ said King Bellamant, +when he had told Queen Belinda all about it, +‘how it was that I came to hear them. The +Enchanter of the Ringing Well said that only +lovers could hear what the bells had to say, +and then only when they were together.’</p> + +<p>‘You silly dear boy,’ said Queen Belinda, +cuddling the baby princess close under her +chin, ‘we <em>are</em> lovers, aren’t we? And you +don’t suppose I wasn’t with you when you +went to ring the bells for our baby—my heart +and soul anyway—all of me that matters!’</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">‘Yes,’ said the King, ‘of course you were. +That accounts!’</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="png.224" id="png.224"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">185</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><b>VIII</b><br + />JUSTNOWLAND</h2> + + +<p>‘<span class="smcap">Auntie</span>! No, no, no! I will be good. Oh, +I will!’ The little weak voice came from the +other side of the locked attic door.</p> + +<p>‘You should have thought of that before,’ +said the strong, sharp voice outside.</p> + +<p>‘I didn’t mean to be naughty. I didn’t, +truly.’</p> + +<p>‘It’s not what you mean, miss, it’s what you +do. I’ll teach you not to mean, my lady.’</p> + +<p>The bitter irony of the last words dried the +child’s tears. ‘Very well, then,’ she screamed, +‘I won’t be good; I won’t try to be good. I +thought you’d like your nasty old garden +weeded. I only did it to please you. How +was I to know it was turnips? It looked just +like weeds.’ Then came a pause, then another +shriek. ‘Oh, Auntie, don’t! Oh, let me out—let +me out!’</p> + +<p>‘I’ll not let you out till I’ve broken your +spirit, my girl; you may rely on that.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.225" id="png.225"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">186</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>The sharp voice stopped abruptly on a high +note; determined feet in strong boots sounded +on the stairs—fainter, fainter; a door slammed +below with a dreadful definiteness, and Elsie +was left alone, to wonder how soon her spirit +would break—for at no less a price, it appeared, +could freedom be bought.</p> + +<p>The outlook seemed hopeless. The martyrs +and heroines, with whom Elsie usually identified +herself, <em>their</em> spirit had never been broken; +not chains nor the rack nor the fiery stake +itself had even weakened them. Imprisonment +in an attic would to them have been luxury +compared with the boiling oil and the smoking +faggots and all the intimate cruelties of +mysterious instruments of steel and leather, +in cold dungeons, lit only by the dull flare of +torches and the bright, watchful eyes of +inquisitors.</p> + +<p>A month in the house of ‘Auntie’ self-styled, +and really only an unrelated Mrs. +Staines, paid to take care of the child, had +held but one interest—Foxe’s Book of Martyrs. +It was a horrible book—the thick oleographs, +their guarding sheets of tissue paper sticking to +the prints like bandages to a wound…. Elsie +knew all about wounds: she had had one herself. +Only a scalded hand, it is true, but a +wound is a wound, all the world over. It was +<a name="png.226" id="png.226"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">187</span><span class="ns"> + </span>a book that made you afraid to go to bed; but +it was a book you could not help reading. +And now it seemed as though it might at last +help, and not merely sicken and terrify. But +the help was frail, and broke almost instantly +on the thought—‘<em>They</em> were brave because +they were good: how can I be brave when +there’s nothing to be brave about except me +not knowing the difference between turnips and +weeds?’</p> + +<p>She sank down, a huddled black bunch on +the bare attic floor, and called wildly to some +one who could not answer her. Her frock was +black because the one who always used to +answer could not answer any more. And her +father was in India, where you cannot answer, +or even hear, your little girl, however much +she cries in England.</p> + +<p>‘I won’t cry,’ said Elsie, sobbing as violently +as ever. ‘I can be brave, even if I’m not a +saint but only a turnip-mistaker. I’ll be a +Bastille prisoner, and tame a mouse!’ She +dried her eyes, though the bosom of the black +frock still heaved like the sea after a storm, +and looked about for a mouse to tame. One +could not begin too soon. But unfortunately +there seemed to be no mouse at liberty just +then. There were mouse-holes right enough, +all round the wainscot, and in the broad, time-worn +<a name="png.227" id="png.227"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">188</span><span class="ns"> + </span>boards of the old floor. But never a +mouse.</p> + +<p>‘Mouse, mouse!’ Elsie called softly. ‘Mousie, +mousie, come and be tamed!’</p> + +<p>Not a mouse replied.</p> + +<p>The attic was perfectly empty and dreadfully +clean. The other attic, Elsie knew, had +lots of interesting things in it—old furniture +and saddles, and sacks of seed potatoes,—but +in this attic nothing. Not so much as a bit of +string on the floor that one could make knots +in, or twist round one’s finger till it made the +red ridges that are so interesting to look at +afterwards; not even a piece of paper in the +draughty, cold fireplace that one could make +paper boats of, or prick letters in with a pin or +the tag of one’s shoe-laces.</p> + +<p>As she stooped to see whether under the +grate some old match-box or bit of twig might +have escaped the broom, she saw suddenly +what she had wanted most—a mouse. It was +lying on its side. She put out her hand very +slowly and gently, and whispered in her softest +tones, ‘Wake up, Mousie, wake up, and +come and be tamed.’ But the mouse never +moved. And when she took it in her hand +it was cold.</p> + +<p>‘Oh,’ she moaned, ‘you’re dead, and now I +can never tame you’; and she sat on the cold +<a name="png.228" id="png.228"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">189</span><span class="ns"> + </span>hearth and cried again, with the dead mouse in +her lap.</p> + +<p>‘Don’t cry,’ said somebody. ‘I’ll find you +something to tame—if you really want it.’</p> + +<p>Elsie started and saw the head of a black +bird peering at her through the square opening +that leads to the chimney. The edges of him +looked ragged and rainbow-coloured, but that +was because she saw him through tears. To a +tearless eye he was black and very smooth and +sleek.</p> + +<p>‘Oh!’ she said, and nothing more.</p> + +<p>‘Quite so,’ said the bird politely. ‘You are +surprised to hear me speak, but your surprise +will be, of course, much less when I tell you +that I am really a Prime Minister condemned +by an Enchanter to wear the form of a crow +till … till I can get rid of it.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh!’ said Elsie.</p> + +<p>‘Yes, indeed,’ said the Crow, and suddenly +grew smaller till he could come comfortably +through the square opening. He did this, +perched on the top bar, and hopped to the +floor. And there he got bigger and bigger, +and bigger and bigger and bigger. Elsie had +scrambled to her feet, and then a black little girl +of eight and of the usual size stood face to face +with a crow as big as a man, and no doubt +as old. She found words then.</p> + +<p><a name="png.229" id="png.229"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">190</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Oh, don’t!’ she cried. ‘Don’t get any +bigger. I can’t bear it.’</p> + +<p>‘<em>I</em> can’t <em>do</em> it,’ said the Crow kindly, ‘so +that’s all right. I thought you’d better get used +to seeing rather large crows before I take you +to Crownowland. We are all life-size there.’</p> + +<p>‘But a crow’s life-size isn’t a man’s life-size,’ +Elsie managed to say.</p> + +<p>‘Oh yes, it is—when it’s an enchanted +Crow,’ the bird replied. ‘That makes all the +difference. Now you were saying you wanted +to tame something. If you’ll come with me to +Crownowland I’ll show you something worth +taming.’</p> + +<p>‘Is Crow-what’s-its-name a nice place?’ <!-- Transcriber's note: endquote invisible in original --> +Elsie asked cautiously. She was, somehow, +not so very frightened now.</p> + +<p>‘Very,’ said the Crow.</p> + +<p>‘Then perhaps I shall like it so much I +sha’n’t want to be taming things.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh yes, you will, when you know how +much depends on it.’</p> + +<p>‘But I shouldn’t like,’ said Elsie, ‘to go up +the chimney. This isn’t my best frock, of +course, but still….’</p> + +<p>‘Quite so,’ said the Crow. ‘I only came +that way for fun, and because I can fly. You +shall go in by the chief gate of the kingdom, +like a lady. Do come.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.230" id="png.230"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">191</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>But Elsie still hesitated. ‘What sort of +thing is it you want me to tame?’ she said +doubtfully.</p> + +<p>The enormous crow hesitated. ‘A—a sort +of lizard,’ it said at last. ‘And if you can only +tame it so that it will do what you tell it to, +you’ll save the whole kingdom, and we’ll put +up a statue to you; but not in the People’s +Park, unless they wish it,’ the bird added +mysteriously.</p> + +<p>‘I should like to save a kingdom,’ said Elsie, +‘and I like lizards. I’ve seen lots of them in +India.’</p> + +<p>‘Then you’ll come?’ said the Crow.</p> + +<p>‘Yes. But how do we go?’</p> + +<p>‘There are only two doors out of this world +into another,’ said the Crow. ‘I’ll take you +through the nearest. Allow me!’ It put its +wing round her so that her face nestled against +the black softness of the under-wing feathers. +It was warm and dark and sleepy there, and +very comfortable. For a moment she seemed +to swim easily in a soft sea of dreams. Then, +with a little shock, she found herself standing +on a marble terrace, looking out over a city far +more beautiful and wonderful than she had ever +seen or imagined. The great man-sized Crow +was by her side.</p> + +<p>‘Now,’ it said, pointing with the longest of +<a name="png.231" id="png.231"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">192</span><span class="ns"> + </span>its long black wing-feathers, ‘you see this +beautiful city?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ said Elsie, ‘of course I do.’</p> + +<p>‘Well … I hardly like to tell you the +story,’ said the Crow, ‘but it’s a long time ago, +and I hope you won’t think the worse of us—because +we’re really very sorry.’</p> + +<p>‘If you’re really sorry,’ said Elsie primly, +‘of course it’s all right.’</p> + +<p>‘Unfortunately it isn’t,’ said the Crow. +‘You see the great square down there?’</p> + +<p>Elsie looked down on a square of green +trees, broken a little towards the middle.</p> + +<p>‘Well, that’s where the … where <em>it</em> is—what +you’ve got to tame, you know.’</p> + +<p>‘But what did you do that was wrong?’</p> + +<p>‘We were unkind,’ said the Crow slowly, +‘and unjust, and ungenerous. We had servants +and workpeople doing everything for us; we had +nothing to do <em>but</em> be kind. And we weren’t.’</p> + +<p>‘Dear me,’ said Elsie feebly.</p> + +<p>‘We had several warnings,’ said the Crow. +‘There was an old parchment, and it said just +how you ought to behave and all that. But +we didn’t care what it said. I was Court +Magician as well as Prime Minister, and I +ought to have known better, but I didn’t. We +all wore frock-coats and high hats then,’ he +added sadly.</p> + +<p><a name="png.232" id="png.232"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">193</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Go on,’ said Elsie, her eyes wandering from +one beautiful building to another of the many +that nestled among the trees of the city.</p> + +<p>‘And the old parchment said that if we +didn’t behave well our bodies would grow like +our souls. But we didn’t think so. And then +all in a minute they <em>did</em>—and we were crows, +and our bodies were as black as our souls. +Our souls are quite white now,’ it added +reassuringly.</p> + +<p>‘But what was <em>the</em> dreadful thing you’d +done?’</p> + +<p>‘We’d been unkind to the people who +worked for us—not given them enough food or +clothes or fire, and at last we took away even +their play. There was a big park that the +people played in, and we built a wall round it +and took it for ourselves, and the King was +going to set a statue of himself up in the middle. +And then before we could begin to enjoy it we +were turned into big black crows; and the +working people into big white pigeons—and +<em>they</em> can go where they like, but we have to +stay here till we’ve tamed the…. We never +can go into the park, until we’ve settled the +thing that guards it. And that thing’s a big +big lizard—in fact … it’s a <em>dragon</em>!’</p> + +<p>‘<em>Oh!</em>’ cried Elsie; but she was not as +frightened as the Crow seemed to expect. +<a name="png.233" id="png.233"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">194</span><span class="ns"> + </span>Because every now and then she had felt sure +that she was really safe in her own bed, and +that this was a dream. It was not a dream, but +the belief that it was made her very brave, +and she felt quite sure that she could settle +a dragon, if necessary—a dream dragon, that +is. And the rest of the time she thought +about Foxe’s Book of Martyrs and what a +heroine she now had the chance to be.</p> + +<p>‘You want me to kill it?’ she asked.</p> + +<p>‘Oh no! To tame it,’ said the Crow.</p> + +<p>‘We’ve tried all sorts of means—long whips, +like people tame horses with, and red-hot bars, +such as lion-tamers use—and it’s all been perfectly +useless; and there the dragon lives, and +will live till some one can tame him and get +him to follow them like a tame fawn, and eat +out of their hand.’</p> + +<p>‘What does the dragon <em>like</em> to eat?’ Elsie +asked.</p> + +<p>‘<em>Crows</em>,’ replied the other in an uncomfortable +whisper. ‘At least <em>I’ve</em> never known it +eat anything else!’</p> + +<p>‘Am I to try to tame it <em>now</em>?’ Elsie asked.</p> + +<p>‘Oh dear no,’ said the Crow. ‘We’ll have +a banquet in your honour, and you shall have +tea with the Princess.’</p> + +<p>‘How do you know who is a princess and +who’s not, if you’re all crows?’ Elsie cried.</p> + +<p><a name="png.234" id="png.234"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">195</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘How do you know one human being from +another?’ the Crow replied. ‘Besides … +Come on to the Palace.’</p> + +<p>It led her along the terrace, and down some +marble steps to a small arched door. ‘The +tradesmen’s entrance,’ it explained. ‘Excuse +it—the courtiers are crowding in by the front +door.’ Then through long corridors and passages +they went, and at last into the throne-room. +Many crows stood about in respectful +attitudes. On the golden throne, leaning a +gloomy head upon the first joint of his right +wing, the Sovereign of Crownowland was +musing dejectedly. A little girl of about +Elsie’s age sat on the steps of the throne nursing +a handsome doll.</p> + +<p>‘Who is the little girl?’ Elsie asked.</p> + +<p>‘<em>Curtsey!</em> That’s the Princess,’ the Prime +Minister Crow whispered; and Elsie made the +best curtsey she could think of in such a hurry. +‘She wasn’t wicked enough to be turned into a +crow, or poor enough to be turned into a pigeon, +so she remains a dear little girl, just as she +always was.’</p> + +<p>The Princess dropped her doll and ran down +the steps of the throne to meet Elsie.</p> + +<p>‘You dear!’ she said. ‘You’ve come to +play with me, haven’t you? All the little girls +I used to play with have turned into crows, and +<a name="png.235" id="png.235"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">196</span><span class="ns"> + </span>their beaks are <em>so</em> awkward at doll’s tea-parties, +and wings are no good to nurse dollies with. +Let’s have a doll’s tea-party <em>now</em>, shall we?’</p> + +<p>‘May we?’ Elsie looked at the Crow King, +who nodded his head hopelessly. So, hand in +hand, they went.</p> + +<p>I wonder whether you have ever had the +run of a perfectly beautiful palace and a nursery +absolutely crammed with all the toys you ever +had or wanted to have: dolls’ houses, dolls’ +china tea-sets, rocking-horses, bricks, nine-pins, +paint-boxes, conjuring tricks, pewter dinner-services, +and any number of dolls—all most +agreeable and distinguished. If you have, you +may perhaps be able faintly to imagine Elsie’s +happiness. And better than all the toys was +the Princess Perdona—so gentle and kind and +jolly, full of ideas for games, and surrounded by +the means for playing them. Think of it, after +that bare attic, with not even a bit of string to +play with, and no company but the poor little +dead mouse!</p> + +<p>There is no room in this story to tell you +of all the games they had. I can only say +that the time went by so quickly that they +never noticed it going, and were amazed when +the Crown nursemaid brought in the royal +tea-tray. Tea was a beautiful meal—with pink +iced cake in it.</p> + +<p><a name="png.236" id="png.236"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">197</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Now, all the time that these glorious games +had been going on, and this magnificent tea, +the wisest crows of Crownowland had been +holding a council. They had decided that +there was no time like the present, and that +Elsie had better try to tame the dragon soon +as late. ‘But,’ the King said, ‘she mustn’t +run any risks. A guard of fifty stalwart crows +must go with her, and if the dragon shows the +least temper, fifty crows must throw themselves +between her and danger, even if it cost fifty-one +crow-lives. For I myself will lead that +band. Who will volunteer?’</p> + +<p>Volunteers, to the number of some thousands, +instantly stepped forward, and the Field +Marshal selected fifty of the strongest crows.</p> + +<p>And then, in the pleasant pinkness of the +sunset, Elsie was led out on to the palace +steps, where the King made a speech and said +what a heroine she was, and how like Joan of +Arc. And the crows who had gathered from +all parts of the town cheered madly. Did you +ever hear crows cheering? It is a wonderful +sound.</p> + +<p>Then Elsie got into a magnificent gilt coach, +drawn by eight white horses, with a crow at +the head of each horse. The Princess sat +with her on the blue velvet cushions and held +her hand.</p> + +<p><a name="png.237" id="png.237"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">198</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘I <em>know</em> you’ll do it,’ said she; ‘you’re so +brave and clever, Elsie!’</p> + +<p>And Elsie felt braver than before, although +now it did not seem so like a dream. But she +thought of the martyrs, and held Perdona’s +hand very tight.</p> + +<p>At the gates of the green park the Princess +kissed and hugged her new friend—her state +crown, which she had put on in honour of the +occasion, got pushed quite on one side in the +warmth of her embrace—and Elsie stepped +out of the carriage. There was a great crowd +of crows round the park gates, and every one +cheered and shouted ‘Speech, speech!’</p> + +<p>Elsie got as far as ‘Ladies and gentlemen—Crows, +I mean,’ and then she could not +think of anything more, so she simply added, +‘Please, I’m ready.’</p> + +<p>I wish you could have heard those crows +cheer.</p> + +<p>But Elsie wouldn’t have the escort.</p> + +<p>‘It’s very kind,’ she said, ‘but the dragon +only eats crows, and I’m not a crow, thank +goodness—I mean I’m not a crow—and if +I’ve got to be brave I’d like to <em>be</em> brave, and +none of you to get eaten. If only some one +will come with me to show me the way and +then run back as hard as he can when we get +near the dragon. <em>Please!</em>’</p> + +<p><a name="png.238" id="png.238"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">199</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘If only one goes <em>I</em> shall be the one,’ said +the King. And he and Elsie went through +the great gates side by side. She held the +end of his wing, which was the nearest they +could get to hand in hand.</p> + +<p>The crowd outside waited in breathless +silence. Elsie and the King went on through +the winding paths of the People’s Park. And +by the winding paths they came at last to the +Dragon. He lay very peacefully on a great +stone slab, his enormous bat-like wings spread +out on the grass and his goldy-green scales +glittering in the pretty pink sunset light.</p> + +<p>‘Go back!’ said Elsie.</p> + +<p>‘No,’ said the King.</p> + +<p>‘If you don’t,’ said Elsie, ‘<em>I</em> won’t go <em>on</em>. +Seeing a crow might rouse him to fury, or +give him an appetite, or something. Do—do +go!’</p> + +<p>So he went, but not far. He hid behind a +tree, and from its shelter he watched.</p> + +<p>Elsie drew a long breath. Her heart was +thumping under the black frock. ‘Suppose,’ +she thought, ‘he takes me for a crow!’ But +she thought how yellow her hair was, and +decided that the dragon would be certain to +notice that.</p> + +<p>‘Quick march!’ she said to herself, ‘remember +Joan of Arc,’ and walked right up to +<a name="png.239" id="png.239"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">200</span><span class="ns"> + </span>the dragon. It never moved, but watched her +suspiciously out of its bright green eyes.</p> + +<p>‘Dragon dear!’ she said in her clear little +voice.</p> + +<p>‘<em>Eh?</em>’ said the dragon, in tones of extreme +astonishment.</p> + +<p>‘Dragon dear,’ she repeated, ‘do you like +sugar?’</p> + +<p>‘<em>Yes</em>,’ said the dragon.</p> + +<p>‘Well, I’ve brought you some. You won’t +hurt me if I bring it to you?’</p> + +<p>The dragon violently shook its vast head.</p> + +<p>‘It’s not much,’ said Elsie, ‘but I saved it +at tea-time. Four lumps. Two for each of +my mugs of milk.’</p> + +<p>She laid the sugar on the stone slab by the +dragon’s paw.</p> + +<p>It turned its head towards the sugar. The +pinky sunset light fell on its face, and Elsie +saw that it was weeping! Great fat tears as +big as prize pears were coursing down its +wrinkled cheeks.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, don’t,’ said Elsie, ‘<em>don’t</em> cry! Poor +dragon, what’s the matter?’</p> + +<p>‘Oh!’ sobbed the dragon, ‘I’m only so glad +you’ve come. I—I’ve been so lonely. No +one to love me. You <em>do</em> love me, don’t you?’</p> + +<p>‘I—I’m sure I shall when I know you +better,’ said Elsie kindly.</p> + +<p><a name="png.240" id="png.240"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">201</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Give me a kiss, dear,’ said the dragon, +sniffing.</p> + +<p>It is no joke to kiss a dragon. But Elsie +did it—somewhere on the hard green wrinkles +of its forehead.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, <em>thank</em> you,’ said the dragon, brushing +away its tears with the tip of its tail. ‘That +breaks the charm. I can move now. And +I’ve got back all my lost wisdom. Come along—I +<em>do</em> want my tea!’</p> + +<p>So, to the waiting crowd at the gate came +Elsie and the dragon side by side. And at +sight of the dragon, tamed, a great shout went +up from the crowd; and at that shout each +one in the crowd turned quickly to the next +one—for it was the shout of men, and not of +crows. Because at the first sight of the dragon, +tamed, they had left off being crows for ever +and ever, and once again were men.</p> + +<p>The King came running through the gates, +his royal robes held high, so that he shouldn’t +trip over them, and he too was no longer a +crow, but a man.</p> + +<p>And what did Elsie feel after being so +brave? Well, she felt that she would like to +cry, and also to laugh, and she felt that she +loved not only the dragon, but every man, +woman, and child in the whole world—even +Mrs. Staines.</p> + +<p><a name="png.241" id="png.241"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">202</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>She rode back to the Palace on the dragon’s +back.</p> + +<p>And as they went the crowd of citizens who +had been crows met the crowd of citizens who +had been pigeons, and these were poor men +in poor clothes.</p> + +<p>It would have done you good to see how the +ones who had been rich and crows ran to meet +the ones who had been pigeons and poor.</p> + +<p>‘Come and stay at my house, brother,’ they +cried to those who had no homes. ‘Brother, I +have many coats, come and choose some,’ they +cried to the ragged. ‘Come and feast with +me!’ they cried to all. And the rich and the +poor went off arm in arm to feast and be glad +that night, and the next day to work side by +side. ‘For,’ said the King, speaking with his +hand on the neck of the tamed dragon, ‘our +land has been called Crownowland. But we are +no longer crows. We are men: and we will be +Just men. And our country shall be called +Justnowland for ever and ever. And for the +future we shall not be rich and poor, but fellow-workers, +and each will do his best for his +brothers and his own city. And your King +shall be your servant!’</p> + +<p>I don’t know how they managed this, but +no one seemed to think that there would be +any difficulty about it when the King +<a name="png.242" id="png.242"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">203</span><span class="ns"> + </span>mentioned it; and when people really make up +their minds to do anything, difficulties do most +oddly disappear.</p> + +<p>Wonderful rejoicings there were. The +city was hung with flags and lamps. Bands +played—the performers a little out of practice, +because, of course, crows can’t play the flute or +the violin or the trombone—but the effect was +very gay indeed. Then came the time—it was +quite dark—when the King rose up on his +throne and spoke; and Elsie, among all her +new friends, listened with them to his words.</p> + +<p>‘Our deliverer Elsie,’ he said, ‘was brought +hither by the good magic of our Chief Mage +and Prime Minister. She has removed the enchantment +that held us; and the dragon, now +that he has had his tea and recovered from the +shock of being kindly treated, turns out to be +the second strongest magician in the world,—and +he will help us and advise us, so long as +we remember that we are all brothers and +fellow-workers. And now comes the time +when our Elsie must return to her own place, +or another go in her stead. But we cannot +send back our heroine, our deliverer.’ (<i>Long, +loud cheering.</i>) ‘So one shall take her place. +My <span class="nw">daughter——’</span></p> + +<p>The end of the sentence was lost in shouts +of admiration. But Elsie stood up, small and +<a name="png.243" id="png.243"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">204</span><span class="ns"> + </span>white in her black frock, and said, ‘No thank +you. Perdona would simply hate it. And she +doesn’t know my daddy. He’ll fetch me away +from Mrs. Staines some day….’</p> + +<p>The thought of her daddy, far away in India, +of the loneliness of Willow Farm, where now it +would be night in that horrible bare attic where +the poor dead untameable little mouse was, +nearly choked Elsie. It was so bright and +light and good and kind here. And India was +so far away. Her voice stayed a moment on a +broken note.</p> + +<p>‘I—I….’ Then she spoke firmly.</p> + +<p>‘Thank you all so much,’ she said—‘so very +much. I do love you all, and it’s lovely here. +But, please, I’d like to go home now.’</p> + +<p>The Prime Minister, in a silence full of love +and understanding, folded his dark cloak round +her.</p> + +<div class="blockq fivestar">* * * * *</div> + +<p>It was dark in the attic. Elsie crouching +alone in the blackness by the fireplace where +the dead mouse had been, put out her hand to +touch its cold fur.</p> + +<div class="blockq fivestar">* * * * *</div> + +<p>There were wheels on the gravel outside—the +knocker swung strongly—‘<em>Rat</em>-tat-tat-tat—<em>Tat</em>! +<em>Tat</em>!’ A pause—voices—hasty feet in +strong boots sounded on the stairs, the key +<a name="png.244" id="png.244"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">205</span><span class="ns"> + </span>turned in the lock. The door opened a dazzling +crack, then fully, to the glare of a lamp carried +by Mrs. Staines.</p> + +<p>‘Come down at once. I’m sure you’re good +now,’ she said, in a great hurry and in a new +honeyed voice.</p> + +<p>But there were other feet on the stairs—a +step that Elsie knew. ‘Where’s my girl?’ the +voice she knew cried cheerfully. But under the +cheerfulness Elsie heard something other and +dearer. ‘Where’s my girl?’</p> + +<p>After all, it takes less than a month to come +from India to the house in England where one’s +heart is.</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">Out of the bare attic and the darkness Elsie +leapt into light, into arms she knew. ‘Oh, my +daddy, my daddy!’ she cried. ‘How glad I +am I came back!’</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="png.245" id="png.245"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">206</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><b>IX</b><br + />THE RELATED MUFF</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">We</span> had never seen our cousin Sidney till that +Christmas Eve, and we didn’t want to see him +then, and we didn’t like him when we did see +him. He was just dumped down into the +middle of us by mother, at a time when it +would have been unkind to her to say how +little we wanted him.</p> + +<p>We knew already that there wasn’t to be +any proper Christmas for us, because Aunt +Ellie—the one who always used to send the +necklaces and carved things from India, and +remembered everybody’s birthday—had come +home ill. Very ill she was, at a hotel in +London, and mother had to go to her, and, of +course, father was away with his ship.</p> + +<p>And then after we had said good-bye to +mother, and told her how sorry we were, we +were left to ourselves, and told each other what +a shame it was, and no presents or anything. +And then mother came suddenly back in a cab, +<a name="png.246" id="png.246"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">207</span><span class="ns"> + </span>and we all shouted ‘Hooray’ when we saw the +cab stop, and her get out of it. And then we +saw she was getting something out of the cab, +and our hearts leapt up like the man’s in the +piece of school poetry when he beheld a rainbow +in the sky—because we thought she had +remembered about the presents, and the thing +she was getting out of the cab was <em>them</em>.</p> + +<p>Of course it was not—it was Sidney, very +thin and yellow, and looking as sullen as a pig.</p> + +<p>We opened the front door. Mother didn’t +even come in. She just said, ‘Here’s your +Cousin Sidney. Be nice to him and give him +a good time, there’s darlings. And don’t +forget he’s your visitor, so be very extra nice +to him.’</p> + +<p>I have sometimes thought it was the fault +of what mother said about the visitor that +made what did happen happen, but I am +almost sure really that it was the fault of us, +though I did not see it at the time, and even +now I’m sure we didn’t mean to be unkind. +Quite the opposite. But the events of life +are very confusing, especially when you try to +think what made you do them, and whether +you really meant to be naughty or not. Quite +often it is not—but it turns out just the same.</p> + +<p>When the cab had carried mother away—Hilda +said it was like a dragon carrying away +<a name="png.247" id="png.247"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">208</span><span class="ns"> + </span>a queen—we said, ‘How do you do’ to our +Cousin Sidney, who replied, ‘Quite well, thank +you.’</p> + +<p>And then, curiously enough, no one could +think of anything more to say.</p> + +<p>Then Rupert—which is me—remembered +that about being a visitor, and he said:</p> + +<p>‘Won’t you come into the drawing-room?’</p> + +<p>He did when he had taken off his gloves +and overcoat. There was a fire in the drawing-room, +because we had been going to have +games there with mother, only the telegram +came about Aunt Ellie.</p> + +<p>So we all sat on chairs in the drawing-room, +and thought of nothing to say harder than ever.</p> + +<p>Hilda did say, ‘How old are you?’ but, +of course, we knew the answer to that. It +was ten.</p> + +<p>And Hugh said, ‘Do you like England or +India best?’</p> + +<p>And our cousin replied, ‘India ever so +much, thank you.’</p> + +<p>I never felt such a duffer. It was awful. +With all the millions of interesting things that +there are to say at other times, and I couldn’t +think of one. At last I said, ‘Do you like +games?’</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.248" id="png.248"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p208</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-248.png" + width="650" height="437" alt="" title="" /><br + />So we all sat on chairs in the drawing-room, and thought of nothing to say harder than ever.</p> +</div> + +<p>And our cousin replied, ‘Some games I do,’ +in a tone that made me sure that the games he +<a name="png.250" id="png.250"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">209</span><span class="ns"> + </span>liked wouldn’t be our kind, but some wild +Indian sort that we didn’t know.</p> + +<p>I could see that the others were feeling just +like me, and I knew we could not go on like +this till tea-time. And yet I didn’t see any +other way to go on in. It was Hilda who cut +the Gorgeous knot at last. She said:</p> + +<p>‘Hugh, let you and I go and make a lovely +surprise for Rupert and Sidney.’</p> + +<p>And before I could think of any way of +stopping them without being downright rude +to our new cousin, they had fled the scene, just +like any old conspirators. Rupert—me, I mean—was +left alone with the stranger. I said:</p> + +<p>‘Is there anything you’d like to do?’</p> + +<p>And he said, ‘No, thank you.’</p> + +<p>Then neither of us said anything for a bit—and +I could hear the others shrieking with +laughter in the hall.</p> + +<p>I said, ‘I wonder what the surprise will be +like.’</p> + +<p>He said, ‘Yes, I wonder’; but I could tell +from his tone that he did not wonder a bit.</p> + +<p>The others were yelling with laughter. +Have you ever noticed how very amused +people always are when you’re not there? If +you’re in bed—ill, or in disgrace, or anything—it +always sounds like far finer jokes than ever +occur when you are not out of things.</p> + +<p><a name="png.251" id="png.251"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">210</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Do you like reading?’ said I—who am +Rupert—in the tones of despair.</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ said the cousin.</p> + +<p>‘Then take a book,’ I said hastily, for I +really could not stand it another second, ‘and +you just read till the surprise is ready. I think +I ought to go and help the others. I’m the +eldest, you know.’</p> + +<p>I did not wait—I suppose if you’re ten you +can choose a book for yourself—and I went.</p> + +<p>Hilda’s idea was just Indians, but I thought +a wigwam would be nice. So we made one +with the hall table and the fur rugs off the +floor. If everything had been different, and +Aunt Ellie hadn’t been ill, we were to have had +turkey for dinner. The turkey’s feathers were +splendid for Indians, and the striped blankets +off Hugh’s and my beds, and all mother’s beads. +The hall is big like a room, and there was a fire. +The afternoon passed like a beautiful dream. +When Rupert had done his own feathering and +blanketing, as well as brown paper moccasins, +he helped the others. The tea-bell rang before +we were quite dressed. We got Louisa to go +up and tell our cousin that the surprise was +ready, and we all got inside the wigwam. It +was a very tight fit, with the feathers and the +blankets.</p> + +<p>He came down the stairs very slowly, reading +<a name="png.252" id="png.252"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">211</span><span class="ns"> + </span>all the time, and when he got to the mat at +the bottom of the stairs we burst forth in all +our war-paint from the wigwam. It upset, +because Hugh and Hilda stuck between the +table’s legs, and it fell on the stone floor with +quite a loud noise. The wild Indians picked +themselves up out of the ruins and did the +finest war-dance I’ve ever seen in front of my +cousin Sidney.</p> + +<p>He gave one little scream, and then sat +down suddenly on the bottom steps. He +leaned his head against the banisters and we +thought he was admiring the war-dance, till +Eliza, who had been laughing and making as +much noise as any one, suddenly went up to +him and shook him.</p> + +<p>‘Stop that noise,’ she said to us, ‘he’s gone +off into a dead faint.’</p> + +<p>He had.</p> + +<p>Of course we were very sorry and all that, +but we never thought he’d be such a muff as to +be frightened of three Red Indians and a wigwam +that happened to upset. He was put to +bed, and we had our teas.</p> + +<p>‘I wish we hadn’t,’ Hilda said.</p> + +<p>‘So do I,’ said Hugh.</p> + +<p>But Rupert said, ‘No one <em>could</em> have +expected a cousin of ours to be a chicken-hearted +duffer. He’s a muff. It’s bad enough +<a name="png.253" id="png.253"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">212</span><span class="ns"> + </span>to have a muff in the house at all, and at +Christmas time, too. But a related muff!’</p> + +<p>Still the affair had cast a gloom, and we +were glad when it was bed-time.</p> + +<p>Next day was Christmas Day, and no +presents, and nobody but the servants to wish +a Merry Christmas to.</p> + +<p>Our cousin Sidney came down to breakfast, +and as it was Christmas Day Rupert bent his +proud spirit to own he was sorry about the +Indians.</p> + +<p>Sidney said, ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry +too. Only I didn’t expect it.’</p> + +<p>We suggested two or three games, such as +Parlour Cricket, National Gallery, and Grab—but +Sidney said he would rather read. So we +said would he mind if we played out the Indian +game which we had dropped, out of politeness, +when he fainted.</p> + +<p>He said:</p> + +<p>‘I don’t mind at all, now I know what it is +you’re up to. No, thank you, I’d rather read,’ +he added, in reply to Rupert’s unselfish offer to +dress him for the part of Sitting Bull.</p> + +<p>So he read <cite>Treasure Island</cite>, and we fought on +the stairs with no casualties except the gas +globes, and then we scalped all the dolls—putting +on paper scalps first because Hilda +wished it—and we scalped Eliza as she passed +<a name="png.256" id="png.256"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">213</span><span class="ns"> + </span>through the hall—hers was a white scalp with +lacey stuff on it and long streamers.</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.255" id="png.255"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p213</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-255.png" width="439" height="700" + alt="" title="" /><br + />‘We scalped Eliza as she passed through the hall.’</p> +</div> + +<p>And when it was beginning to get dark +we thought of flying machines. Of course +Sidney wouldn’t play at that either, and Hilda +and Hugh were contented with paper wings—there +were some rolls of rather decent yellow +and pink crinkled paper that mother had bought +to make lamp shades of. They made wings +of this, and then they played at fairies up and +down the stairs, while Sidney sat at the bottom +of the stairs and went on reading <cite>Treasure +Island</cite>. But Rupert was determined to have a +flying machine, with real flipper-flappery wings, +like at Hendon. So he got two brass fire-guards +out of the spare room and mother’s +bedroom, and covered them with newspapers +fastened on with string. Then he got a tea-tray +and fastened it on to himself with rug-straps, +and then he slipped his arms in between +the string and the fire-guards, and went to the +top of the stairs and shouting, ‘Look out +below there! Beware Flying Machines!’ he +sat down suddenly on the tray, and tobogganed +gloriously down the stairs, flapping his fire-guard +wings. It was a great success, and felt more +like flying than anything he ever played at. But +Hilda had not had time to look out thoroughly, +because he did not wait any time between his +<a name="png.257" id="png.257"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">214</span><span class="ns"> + </span>warning and his descent. So that she was still +fluttering, in the character of Queen of the +Butterfly Fairies, about half-way down the stairs +when the flying machine, composed of the two +guards, the tea-tray, and Rupert, started from +the top of them, and she could only get out of +the way by standing back close against the wall. +Unluckily the place where she was, was also +the place where the gas was burning in a little +recess. You remember we had broken the +globe when we were playing Indians.</p> + +<p>Now, of course, you know what happened, +because you have read <cite>Harriett and the Matches</cite>, +and all the rest of the stories that have been +written to persuade children not to play with +fire. No one was playing with fire that day, it +is true, or doing anything really naughty at +all—but however naughty we had been the +thing that happened couldn’t have been much +worse. For the flying machine as it came +rushing round the curve of the staircase banged +against the legs of Hilda. She screamed and +stumbled back. Her pink paper wings went +into the gas that hadn’t a globe. They flamed +up, her hair frizzled, and her lace collar caught +fire. Rupert could not do anything because he +was held fast in his flying machine, and he and +it were rolling painfully on the mat at the +bottom of the stairs.</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.259" id="png.259"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p215</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-259.png" width="650" height="625" + alt="" title="" /><br + />Sidney threw the rug over her, and rolled her over and over.</p> +</div> + +<p><a name="png.260" id="png.260"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">215</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Hilda screamed.</p> + +<p>I have since heard that a great yellow light +fell on the pages of <cite>Treasure Island</cite>.</p> + +<p>Next moment <cite>Treasure Island</cite> went spinning +across the room. Sidney caught up the +fur rug that was part of the wigwam, and as +Hilda, screaming horribly, and with wings not +of paper but of flames, rushed down the staircase, +and stumbled over the flying machine, +Sidney threw the rug over her, and rolled her +over and over on the floor.</p> + +<p>‘Lie down!’ he cried. ‘Lie down! It’s the +only way.’</p> + +<p>But somehow people never will lie down +when their clothes are on fire, any more than +they will lie still in the water if they think they +are drowning, and some one is trying to save +them. It came to something very like a +fight. Hilda fought and struggled. Rupert +got out of his fire-guards and added himself +and his tea-tray to the scrimmage. Hugh slid +down to the knob of the banisters and sat +there yelling. The servants came rushing in.</p> + +<p>But by that time the fire was out. And +Sidney gasped out, ‘It’s all right. You aren’t +burned, Hilda, are you?’</p> + +<p>Hilda was much too frightened to know +whether she was burnt or not, but Eliza +looked her over, and it turned out that only +<a name="png.261" id="png.261"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">216</span><span class="ns"> + </span>her neck was a little scorched, and a good deal +of her hair frizzled off short.</p> + +<p>Every one stood, rather breathless and pale, +and every one’s face was much dirtier than +customary, except Hugh’s, which he had, as +usual, dirtied thoroughly quite early in the +afternoon. Rupert felt perfectly awful, ashamed +and proud and rather sick. ‘You’re a regular +hero, Sidney,’ he said—and it was not easy +to say—‘and yesterday I said you were a related +muff. And I’m jolly sorry I did. Shake +hands, won’t you?’</p> + +<p>Sidney hesitated.</p> + +<p>‘Too proud?’ Rupert’s feelings were hurt, +and I should not wonder if he spoke rather +fiercely.</p> + +<p>‘It’s—it’s a little burnt, I think,’ said Sidney, +‘don’t be angry,’ and he held out the left hand.</p> + +<p>Rupert grasped it.</p> + +<p>‘I do beg your pardon,’ he said, ‘you <em>are</em> a +hero!’</p> + +<div class="blockq fivestar">* * * * *</div> + +<p>Sidney’s hand was bad for ever so long, +but we were tremendous chums after that.</p> + +<p>It was when they’d done the hand up with +scraped potato and salad oil—a great, big, fat, wet +plaster of it—that I said to him:</p> + +<p>‘I don’t care if you don’t like games. Let’s <!-- "Lets" sans apostrophe in original --> +be pals.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.262" id="png.262"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">217</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>And he said, ‘I do like games, but I couldn’t +care about anything with mother so ill. I +know you’ll think I’m a muff, but I’m not +really, only I do love her so.’</p> + +<p>And with that he began to cry, and I +thumped him on the back, and told him exactly +what a beast I knew I was, to comfort him.</p> + +<p>When Aunt Ellie was well again we kept +Christmas on the 6th of January, which used +to be Christmas Day in middle-aged times.</p> + +<p>Father came home before New Year, and +he had a silver medal made, with a flame on +one side, and on the other Sidney’s name, and +‘For Bravery.’</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">If I had not been tied up in fire-guards and +tea-trays perhaps I should have thought of the +rug and got the medal. But I do not grudge +it to Sidney. He deserved it. And he is not +a muff. I see now that a person might very +well be frightened at finding Indians in the +hall of a strange house, especially if the person +had just come from the kind of India where the +Indians are quite a different sort, and much +milder, with no feathers and wigwams and war-dances, +but only dusky features and University +Degrees.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="png.263" id="png.263"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">218</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><b>X</b><br + />THE AUNT AND AMABEL</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is not pleasant to be a fish out of water. To +be a cat in water is not what any one would +desire. To be in a temper is uncomfortable. +And no one can fully taste the joys of life if he +is in a Little Lord Fauntleroy suit. But by +far the most uncomfortable thing to be in is +disgrace, sometimes amusingly called Coventry +by the people who are not in it.</p> + +<p>We have all been there. It is a place where +the heart sinks and aches, where familiar faces +are clouded and changed, where any remark +that one may tremblingly make is received with +stony silence or with the assurance that nobody +wants to talk to such a naughty child. If you +are only in disgrace, and not in solitary confinement, +you will creep about a house that is like +the one you have had such jolly times in, and +yet as unlike it as a bad dream is to a June +morning. You will long to speak to people, +and be afraid to speak. You will wonder +<a name="png.264" id="png.264"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">219</span><span class="ns"> + </span>whether there is anything you can do that will +change things at all. You have said you are +sorry, and that has changed nothing. You will +wonder whether you are to stay for ever in +this desolate place, outside all hope and love +and fun and happiness. And though it has +happened before, and has always, in the +end, come to an end, you can never be quite +sure that this time it is not going to last for +ever.</p> + +<p>‘It <em>is</em> going to last for ever,’ said Amabel, +who was eight. ‘What shall I do? Oh whatever +shall I do?’</p> + +<p>What she <em>had</em> done ought to have formed the +subject of her meditations. And she had done +what had seemed to her all the time, and in +fact still seemed, a self-sacrificing and noble act. +She was staying with an aunt—measles or a +new baby, or the painters in the house, I forget +which, the cause of her banishment. And the +aunt, who was really a great-aunt and quite old +enough to know better, had been grumbling +about her head gardener to a lady who called +in blue spectacles and a beady bonnet with +violet flowers in it.</p> + +<p>‘He hardly lets me have a plant for the table,’ +said the aunt, ‘and that border in front of the +breakfast-room window—it’s just bare earth—and +I expressly ordered chrysanthemums to be +<a name="png.265" id="png.265"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">220</span><span class="ns"> + </span>planted there. He thinks of nothing but his +greenhouse.’</p> + +<p>The beady-violet-blue-glassed lady snorted, +and said she didn’t know what we were coming +to, and she would have just half a cup, please, with +not quite so much milk, thank you very much.</p> + +<p>Now what would you have done? Minded +your own business most likely, and not got into +trouble at all. Not so Amabel. Enthusiastically +anxious to do something which should make +the great-aunt see what a thoughtful, unselfish, +little girl she really was (the aunt’s opinion of +her being at present quite otherwise), she got +up very early in the morning and took the +cutting-out scissors from the work-room table +drawer and stole, ‘like an errand of mercy,’ she +told herself, to the greenhouse where she +busily snipped off every single flower she could +find. MacFarlane was at his breakfast. Then +with the points of the cutting-out scissors she +made nice deep little holes in the flower-bed +where the chrysanthemums ought to have been, +and struck the flowers in—chrysanthemums, +geraniums, primulas, orchids, and carnations. It +would be a lovely surprise for Auntie.</p> + +<p>Then the aunt came down to breakfast and +saw the lovely surprise. Amabel’s world turned +upside down and inside out suddenly and +surprisingly, and there she was, in Coventry, +<a name="png.266" id="png.266"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">221</span><span class="ns"> + </span>and not even the housemaid would speak to +her. Her great-uncle, whom she passed in the +hall on her way to her own room, did indeed, as +he smoothed his hat, murmur, ‘Sent to Coventry, +eh? Never mind, it’ll soon be over,’ and +went off to the City banging the front door +behind him.</p> + +<p>He meant well, but he did not understand.</p> + +<p>Amabel understood, or she thought she did, +and knew in her miserable heart that she was +sent to Coventry for the last time, and that this +time she would stay there.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t care,’ she said quite untruly. ‘I’ll +never try to be kind to any one again.’ And +that wasn’t true either. She was to spend the +whole day alone in the best bedroom, the one +with the four-post bed and the red curtains and +the large wardrobe with a looking-glass in it +that you could see yourself in to the very ends +of your strap-shoes.</p> + +<p>The first thing Amabel did was to look at +herself in the glass. She was still sniffing and +sobbing, and her eyes were swimming in tears, +another one rolled down her nose as she +looked—that was very interesting. Another +rolled down, and that was the last, because as +soon as you get interested in watching your +tears they stop.</p> + +<p>Next she looked out of the window, and saw +<a name="png.267" id="png.267"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">222</span><span class="ns"> + </span>the decorated flower-bed, just as she had left it, +very bright and beautiful.</p> + +<p>‘Well, it <em>does</em> look nice,’ she said. ‘I don’t +care what they say.’</p> + +<p>Then she looked round the room for +something to read; there was nothing. The +old-fashioned best bedrooms never did have +anything. Only on the large dressing-table, +on the left-hand side of the oval swing-glass, +was one book covered in red velvet, and on it, +very twistily embroidered in yellow silk and +mixed up with misleading leaves and squiggles +were the letters, A.B.C.</p> + +<p>‘Perhaps it’s a picture alphabet,’ said Mabel, +and was quite pleased, though of course she +was much too old to care for alphabets. Only +when one is very unhappy and very dull, anything +is better than nothing. She opened the +book.</p> + +<p>‘Why, it’s only a time-table!’ she said. ‘I +suppose it’s for people when they want to go +away, and Auntie puts it here in case they +suddenly make up their minds to go, and feel +that they can’t wait another minute. I feel +like that, only it’s no good, and I expect other +people do too.’</p> + +<p>She had learned how to use the dictionary, +and this seemed to go the same way. She +looked up the names of all the places she knew.—Brighton +<a name="png.268" id="png.268"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">223</span><span class="ns"> + </span>where she had once spent a month, +Rugby where her brother was at school, and +Home, which was Amberley—and she saw the +times when the trains left for these places, and +wished she could go by those trains.</p> + +<p>And once more she looked round the best +bedroom which was her prison, and thought of +the Bastille, and wished she had a toad to tame, +like the poor Viscount, or a flower to watch +growing, like Picciola, and she was very sorry +for herself, and very angry with her aunt, and +very grieved at the conduct of her parents—she +had expected better things from them—and +now they had left her in this dreadful +place where no one loved her, and no one +understood her.</p> + +<p>There seemed to be no place for toads or +flowers in the best room, it was carpeted all +over even in its least noticeable corners. It +had everything a best room ought to have—and +everything was of dark shining mahogany. +The toilet-table had a set of red and gold glass +things—a tray, candlesticks, a ring-stand, +many little pots with lids, and two bottles with +stoppers. When the stoppers were taken out +they smelt very strange, something like very old +scent, and something like cold cream also very +old, and something like going to the dentist’s.</p> + +<p>I do not know whether the scent of those +<a name="png.269" id="png.269"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">224</span><span class="ns"> + </span>bottles had anything to do with what happened. +It certainly was a very extraordinary scent. +Quite different from any perfume that I smell +nowadays, but I remember that when I was a +little girl I smelt it quite often. But then there +are no best rooms now such as there used to be. +The best rooms now are gay with chintz and +mirrors, and there are always flowers and books, +and little tables to put your teacup on, and sofas, +and armchairs. And they smell of varnish and +new furniture.</p> + +<p>When Amabel had sniffed at both bottles +and looked in all the pots, which were quite +clean and empty except for a pearl button and +two pins in one of them, she took up the +A.B.C. again to look for Whitby, where her +godmother lived. And it was then that she +saw the extraordinary name ‘<i>Whereyouwantogoto.</i>’ +This was odd—but the name of the +station from which it started was still more +extraordinary, for it was not Euston or Cannon +Street or Marylebone.</p> + +<p>The name of the station was ‘<i>Bigwardrobeinspareroom.</i>’ +And below this name, really +quite unusual for a station, Amabel read in +small letters:</p> + +<p>‘Single fares strictly forbidden. Return +tickets No Class Nuppence. Trains leave +<i>Bigwardrobeinspareroom</i> all the time.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.270" id="png.270"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">225</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>And under that in still smaller letters—</p> + +<p>‘<i>You had better go now.</i>’</p> + +<p>What would you have done? Rubbed +your eyes and thought you were dreaming? +Well, if you had, nothing more would have +happened. Nothing ever does when you +behave like that. Amabel was wiser. She +went straight to the Big Wardrobe and turned +its glass handle.</p> + +<p>‘I expect it’s only shelves and people’s best +hats,’ she said. But she only said it. People +often say what they don’t mean, so that if +things turn out as they don’t expect, they can +say ‘I told you so,’ but this is most dishonest +to one’s self, and being dishonest to one’s self +is almost worse than being dishonest to other +people. Amabel would never have done it if +she had been herself. But she was out of +herself with anger and unhappiness.</p> + +<p>Of course it wasn’t hats. It was, most +amazingly, a crystal cave, very oddly shaped +like a railway station. It seemed to be lighted +by stars, which is, of course, unusual in a +booking office, and over the station clock was a +full moon. The clock had no figures, only <i>Now</i> +in shining letters all round it, twelve times, +and the <i>Nows</i> touched, so the clock was bound +to be always right. How different from the +clock you go to school by!</p> + +<p><a name="png.271" id="png.271"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">226</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>A porter in white satin hurried forward to +take Amabel’s luggage. Her luggage was the +A.B.C. which she still held in her hand.</p> + +<p>‘Lots of time, Miss,’ he said, grinning in a +most friendly way, ‘I <em>am</em> glad you’re going. +You <em>will</em> enjoy yourself! What a nice little +girl you are!’</p> + +<p>This was cheering. Amabel smiled.</p> + +<p>At the pigeon-hole that tickets come out of, +another person, also in white satin, was ready +with a mother-of-pearl ticket, round, like a +card counter.</p> + +<p>‘Here you are, Miss,’ he said with the +kindest smile, ‘price nothing, and refreshments +free all the way. It’s a pleasure,’ he added, ‘to +issue a ticket to a nice little lady like you.’ +The train was entirely of crystal, too, and the +cushions were of white satin. There were +little buttons such as you have for electric +bells, and on them ‘<i>Whatyouwantoeat</i>,’ ‘<i>Whatyouwantodrink</i>,’ +‘<i>Whatyouwantoread</i>,’ in silver +letters.</p> + +<p>Amabel pressed all the buttons at once, and +instantly felt obliged to blink. The blink over, +she saw on the cushion by her side a silver +tray with vanilla ice, boiled chicken and white +sauce, almonds (blanched), peppermint creams, +and mashed potatoes, and a long glass of +lemonade—beside the tray was a book. It was +<a name="png.272" id="png.272"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">227</span><span class="ns"> + </span>Mrs. Ewing’s <cite>Bad-tempered Family</cite>, and it +was bound in white vellum.</p> + +<p>There is nothing more luxurious than eating +while you read—unless it be reading while you +eat. Amabel did both: they are not the same +thing, as you will see if you think the matter +over.</p> + +<p>And just as the last thrill of the last spoonful +of ice died away, and the last full stop of the +<cite>Bad-tempered Family</cite> met Amabel’s eye, +the train stopped, and hundreds of railway +officials in white velvet shouted, ‘<i>Whereyouwantogoto!</i> +Get out!’</p> + +<p>A velvety porter, who was somehow like a +silkworm as well as like a wedding handkerchief +sachet, opened the door.</p> + +<p>‘Now!’ he said, ‘come on out, Miss Amabel, +unless you want to go to <i>Whereyoudon’twantogoto</i>.’</p> + +<p>She hurried out, on to an ivory platform.</p> + +<p>‘Not on the ivory, if you please,’ said the +porter, ‘the white Axminster carpet—it’s laid +down expressly for you.’</p> + +<p>Amabel walked along it and saw ahead of +her a crowd, all in white.</p> + +<p>‘What’s all that?’ she asked the friendly +porter.</p> + +<p>‘It’s the Mayor, dear Miss Amabel,’ he said, <!-- Transcriber's note: original shows a period in place of comma --> +‘with your address.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.273" id="png.273"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">228</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘My address is The Old Cottage, Amberley,’ +she said, ‘at least it used to be’—and found +herself face to face with the Mayor. He was +very like Uncle George, but he bowed low to +her, which was not Uncle George’s habit, and +said:</p> + +<p>‘Welcome, dear little Amabel. Please accept +this admiring address from the Mayor and +burgesses and apprentices and all the rest of it, +of Whereyouwantogoto.’</p> + +<p>The address was in silver letters, on white +silk, and it said:</p> + +<p>‘Welcome, dear Amabel. We know you +meant to please your aunt. It was very clever +of you to think of putting the greenhouse +flowers in the bare flower-bed. You couldn’t +be expected to know that you ought to ask +leave before you touch other people’s things.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, but,’ said Amabel quite confused. ‘I +did….’</p> + +<p>But the band struck up, and drowned her +words. The instruments of the band were +all of silver, and the bandsmen’s clothes of +white leather. The tune they played was +‘Cheero!’</p> + +<p>Then Amabel found that she was taking +part in a procession, hand in hand with the +Mayor, and the band playing like mad all the +time. The Mayor was dressed entirely in cloth +<a name="png.274" id="png.274"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">229</span><span class="ns"> + </span>of silver, and as they went along he kept +saying, close to her ear.</p> + +<p>‘You have our sympathy, you have our +sympathy,’ till she felt quite giddy.</p> + +<p>There was a flower show—all the flowers +were white. There was a concert—all the +tunes were old ones. There was a play called +<cite>Put yourself in her place</cite>. And there was a +banquet, with Amabel in the place of honour.</p> + +<p>They drank her health in white wine whey, +and then through the Crystal Hall of a thousand +gleaming pillars, where thousands of guests, all +in white, were met to do honour to Amabel, +the shout went up—‘Speech, speech!’</p> + +<p>I cannot explain to you what had been +going on in Amabel’s mind. Perhaps you +know. Whatever it was it began like a very +tiny butterfly in a box, that could not keep +quiet, but fluttered, and fluttered, and fluttered. +And when the Mayor rose and said:</p> + +<p>‘Dear Amabel, you whom we all love and +understand; dear Amabel, you who were so +unjustly punished for trying to give pleasure to +an unresponsive aunt; poor, ill-used, ill-treated, +innocent Amabel; blameless, suffering Amabel, +we await your words,’ that fluttering, tiresome +butterfly-thing inside her seemed suddenly to +swell to the size and strength of a fluttering +albatross, and Amabel got up from her seat of +<a name="png.275" id="png.275"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">230</span><span class="ns"> + </span>honour on the throne of ivory and silver and +pearl, and said, choking a little, and extremely +red about the ears—</p> + +<p>‘Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t want to +make a speech, I just want to say, “Thank +you,” and to say—to say—to say….’</p> + +<p>She stopped, and all the white crowd cheered.</p> + +<p>‘To say,’ she went on as the cheers died +down, ‘that I wasn’t blameless, and innocent, +and all those nice things. I ought to have +thought. And they <em>were</em> Auntie’s flowers. But +I did want to please her. It’s all so mixed. +Oh, I wish Auntie was here!’</p> + +<p>And instantly Auntie <em>was</em> there, very tall +and quite nice-looking, in a white velvet dress +and an ermine cloak.</p> + +<p>‘Speech,’ cried the crowd. ‘Speech from +Auntie!’</p> + +<p>Auntie stood on the step of the throne +beside Amabel, and said:</p> + +<p>‘I think, perhaps, I was hasty. And I +think Amabel meant to please me. But all the +flowers that were meant for the winter … +well—I was annoyed. I’m sorry.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, Auntie, so am I—so am I,’ cried +Amabel, and the two began to hug each other +on the ivory step, while the crowd cheered like +mad, and the band struck up that well-known +air, ‘If you only understood!’</p> + +<p><a name="png.276" id="png.276"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">231</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Oh, Auntie,’ said Amabel among hugs, +‘This is such a lovely place, come and see +everything, we may, mayn’t we?’ she asked +the Mayor.</p> + +<p>‘The place is yours,’ he said, ‘and now you +can see many things that you couldn’t see +before. We are The People who Understand. +And now you are one of Us. And your aunt +is another.’</p> + +<p>I must not tell you all that they saw because +these things are secrets only known to The +People who Understand, and perhaps you do +not yet belong to that happy nation. And if +you do, you will know without my telling you.</p> + +<p>And when it grew late, and the stars +were drawn down, somehow, to hang among +the trees, Amabel fell asleep in her aunt’s +arms beside a white foaming fountain on a +marble terrace, where white peacocks came to +drink.</p> + +<div class="blockq fivestar">* * * * *</div> + +<p>She awoke on the big bed in the spare +room, but her aunt’s arms were still round her.</p> + +<p>‘Amabel,’ she was saying, ‘Amabel!’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, Auntie,’ said Amabel sleepily, ‘I am so +sorry. It <em>was</em> stupid of me. And I did mean +to please you.’</p> + +<p>‘It <em>was</em> stupid of you,’ said the aunt, ‘but I +am sure you meant to please me. Come down +<a name="png.277" id="png.277"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">232</span><span class="ns"> + </span>to supper.’ And Amabel has a confused +recollection of her aunt’s saying that she was +sorry, adding, ‘Poor little Amabel.’</p> + +<p>If the aunt really did say it, it was fine of +her. And Amabel is quite sure that she did +say it.</p> + +<div class="blockq fivestar">* * * * *</div> + +<p>Amabel and her great-aunt are now the +best of friends. But neither of them has ever +spoken to the other of the beautiful city called +‘<i>Whereyouwantogoto.</i>’ Amabel is too shy to +be the first to mention it, and no doubt the +aunt has her own reasons for not broaching +the subject.</p> + +<p>But of course they both know that they have +been there together, and it is easy to get on +with people when you and they alike belong to +the <i>Peoplewhounderstand</i>.</p> + +<div class="blockq fivestar">* * * * *</div> + +<p class="pgbrk">If you look in the A.B.C. that your people +have you will not find ‘<i>Whereyouwantogoto.</i>’ +It is only in the red velvet bound copy that +Amabel found in her aunt’s best bedroom.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="png.278" id="png.278"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">233</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><b>XI</b><br + />KENNETH AND THE CARP</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Kenneth’s</span> cousins had often stayed with him, +but he had never till now stayed with them. +And you know how different everything is when +you are in your own house. You are certain +exactly what games the grown-ups dislike and +what games they will not notice; also what +sort of mischief is looked over and what +sort is not. And, being accustomed to your +own sort of grown-ups, you can always be +pretty sure when you are likely to catch it. +Whereas strange houses are, in this matter +of catching it, full of the most unpleasing +surprises.</p> + +<p>You know all this. But Kenneth did not. +And still less did he know what were the sort +of things which, in his cousins’ house, led to +disapproval, punishment, scoldings; in short, to +catching it. So that that business of cousin +Ethel’s jewel-case, which is where this story +ought to begin, was really not Kenneth’s fault +<a name="png.279" id="png.279"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">234</span><span class="ns"> + </span>at all. Though for a time…. But I am getting +on too fast.</p> + +<p>Kenneth’s cousins were four,—Conrad, +Alison, George, and Ethel. The three first were +natural sort of cousins somewhere near his own +age, but Ethel was hardly like a cousin at all, +more like an aunt. Because she was grown-up. +She wore long dresses and all her hair on the +top of her head, a mass of combs and hairpins; +in fact she had just had her twenty-first birthday +with iced cakes and a party and lots of +presents, most of them jewelry. And that +brings me again to that affair of the jewel-case, +or would bring me if I were not determined to +tell things in their proper order, which is the +first duty of a story-teller.</p> + +<p>Kenneth’s home was in Kent, a wooden +house among cherry orchards, and the nearest +river five miles away. That was why he +looked forward in such a very extra and excited +way to his visit to his cousins. Their house +was very old, red brick with ivy all over it. It +had a secret staircase, only the secret was not +kept any longer, and the housemaids carried +pails and brooms up and down the staircase. +And the house was surrounded by a real deep +moat, with clear water in it, and long weeds and +water-lilies and fish—the gold and the silver +and the everyday kinds.</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.281" id="png.281"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p235</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-281.png" width="700" height="361" + alt="" title="" /><br + />Early next morning he tried to catch fish with several pieces of string knotted together and a hairpin.</p> +</div> + +<p><a name="png.282" id="png.282"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">235</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>The first evening of Kenneth’s visit passed +uneventfully. His bedroom window looked +over the moat, and early next morning he tried +to catch fish with several pieces of string +knotted together and a hairpin kindly lent to +him by the parlourmaid. He did not catch any +fish, partly because he baited the hairpin with +brown windsor soap, and it washed off.</p> + +<p>‘Besides, fish hate soap,’ Conrad told him, +‘and that hook of yours would do for a whale +perhaps. Only we don’t stock our moat with +whales. But I’ll ask father to lend you his +rod, it’s a spiffing one, much jollier than ours. +And I won’t tell the kids because they’d never +let it down on you. Fishing with a hairpin!’</p> + +<p>‘Thank you very much,’ said <ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'Kennth'">Kenneth</ins>, feeling +that his cousin was a man and a brother. +The kids were only two or three years younger +than he was, but that is a great deal when you +are the elder; and besides, one of the kids was +a girl.</p> + +<p>‘Alison’s a bit of a sneak,’ Conrad used to +say when anger overcome politeness and +brotherly feeling. Afterwards, when the anger +was gone and the other things left, he would +say, ‘You see she went to a beastly school for +a bit, at Brighton, for her health. And father +says they must have bullied her. All girls are +not like it, I believe.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.283" id="png.283"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">236</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>But her sneakish qualities, if they really +existed, were generally hidden, and she was +very clever at thinking of new games, and very +kind if you got into a row over anything.</p> + +<p>George was eight and stout. He was not a +sneak, but concealment was foreign to his +nature, so he never could keep a secret unless +he forgot it. Which fortunately happened +quite often.</p> + +<p>The uncle very amiably lent Kenneth his +fishing-rod, and provided real bait in the most +thoughtful and generous manner. And the +four children fished all the morning and all the +afternoon. Conrad caught two roach and an +eel. George caught nothing, and nothing was +what the other two caught. But it was glorious +sport. And the next day there was to be a +picnic. Life to Kenneth seemed full of new +and delicious excitement.</p> + +<p>In the evening the aunt and the uncle +went out to dinner, and Ethel, in her grown-up +way, went with them, very grand in a blue silk +dress and turquoises. So the children were +left to themselves.</p> + +<p>You know the empty hush which settles +down on a house when the grown-ups have +gone out to dinner and you have the whole +evening to do what you like in. The children +stood in the hall a moment after the carriage +<a name="png.284" id="png.284"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">237</span><span class="ns"> + </span>wheels had died away with the scrunching +swish that the carriage wheels always made as +they turned the corner by the lodge, where +the gravel was extra thick and soft owing to +the droppings from the trees. From the +kitchen came the voices of the servants, laughing +and talking.</p> + +<p>‘It’s two hours at least to bedtime,’ said +Alison. ‘What shall we do?’ Alison always +began by saying ‘What shall we do?’ and +always ended by deciding what should be done. +‘You all say what you think,’ she went on, +‘and then we’ll vote about it. You first, Ken, +because you’re the visitor.’</p> + +<p>‘Fishing,’ said Kenneth, because it was the +only thing he could think of.</p> + +<p>‘Make toffee,’ said Conrad.</p> + +<p>‘Build a great big house with all the bricks,’ +said George.</p> + +<p>‘We can’t make toffee,’ Alison explained +gently but firmly, ‘because you know what the +pan was like last time, and cook said, “never +again, not much.” And it’s no good building +houses, Georgie, when you could be out of +doors. And fishing’s simply rotten when we’ve +been at it all day. I’ve thought of something.’</p> + +<p>So of course all the others said, ‘What?’</p> + +<p>‘We’ll have a pageant, a river pageant, on +<a name="png.285" id="png.285"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">238</span><span class="ns"> + </span>the moat. We’ll all dress up and hang Chinese +lanterns in the trees. I’ll be the Sunflower +lady that the Troubadour came all across the +sea, because he loved her so, for, and one of +you can be the Troubadour, and the others can +be sailors or anything you like.’</p> + +<p>‘I shall be the Troubadour,’ said Conrad +with decision.</p> + +<p>‘I think you ought to let Kenneth because +he’s the visitor,’ said George, who would have +liked to be it immensely himself, or anyhow +did not see why Conrad should be a troubadour +if <em>he</em> couldn’t.</p> + +<p>Conrad said what manners required, which +was:</p> + +<p>‘Oh! all right, I don’t care about being the +beastly Troubadour.’</p> + +<p>‘You might be the Princess’s brother,’ +Alison suggested.</p> + +<p>‘Not me,’ said Conrad scornfully, ‘I’ll be +the captain of the ship.’</p> + +<p>‘In a turban the brother would be, with the +Benares cloak, and the Persian dagger out of +the cabinet in the drawing-room,’ Alison went +on unmoved.</p> + +<p>‘I’ll be that,’ said George.</p> + +<p>‘No, you won’t, I shall, so there,’ said +Conrad. ‘You can be the captain of the ship.’</p> + +<p>(But in the end both boys were captains, +<a name="png.286" id="png.286"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">239</span><span class="ns"> + </span>because that meant being on the boat, whereas +being the Princess’s brother, however turbanned, +only meant standing on the bank. +And there is no rule to prevent captains wearing +turbans and Persian daggers, except in the +Navy where, of course, it is not done.)</p> + +<p>So then they all tore up to the attic where +the dressing-up trunk was, and pulled out all +the dressing-up things on to the floor. And +all the time they were dressing, Alison was +telling the others what they were to say and +do. The Princess wore a white satin skirt and +a red flannel blouse and a veil formed of several +motor scarves of various colours. Also a +wreath of pink roses off one of Ethel’s old hats, +and a pair of pink satin slippers with sparkly +buckles.</p> + +<p>Kenneth wore a blue silk dressing-jacket +and a yellow sash, a lace collar, and a towel +turban. And the others divided between them +an eastern dressing-gown, once the property of +their grandfather, a black spangled scarf, very +holey, a pair of red and white football stockings, +a Chinese coat, and two old muslin curtains, +which, rolled up, made turbans of enormous +size and fierceness.</p> + +<p>On the landing outside cousin Ethel’s open +door Alison paused and said, ‘I say!’</p> + +<p>‘Oh! come on,’ said Conrad, ‘we haven’t +<a name="png.287" id="png.287"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">240</span><span class="ns"> + </span>fixed the Chinese lanterns yet, and it’s getting +dark.’</p> + +<p>‘You go on,’ said Alison, ‘I’ve just thought +of something.’</p> + +<p>The children were allowed to play in the +boat so long as they didn’t loose it from its +moorings. The painter was extremely long, +and quite the effect of coming home from a +long voyage was produced when the three boys +pushed the boat out as far as it would go +among the boughs of the beech-tree which +overhung the water, and then reappeared in +the circle of red and yellow light thrown by +the Chinese lanterns.</p> + +<p>‘What ho! ashore there!’ shouted the +captain.</p> + +<p>‘What ho!’ said a voice from the shore +which, Alison explained, was disguised.</p> + +<p>‘We be three poor mariners,’ said Conrad by +a happy effort of memory, ‘just newly come to +shore. We seek news of the Princess of Tripoli.’</p> + +<p>‘She’s in her palace,’ said the disguised +voice, ‘wait a minute, and I’ll tell her you’re +here. But what do you want her for? (“A +poor minstrel of France”) go on, Con.’</p> + +<p>‘A poor minstrel of France,’ said Conrad, +‘(all right! I remember,) who has heard of the +Princess’s beauty has come to lay, to <span class="nw">lay——’</span></p> + +<p>‘His heart,’ said Alison.</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.289" id="png.289"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p241</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-289.png" + width="503" height="700" alt="" title="" /><br + />A radiant vision stepped into the circle of light.</p> +</div> + +<p><a name="png.290" id="png.290"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">241</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘All right, I know. His heart at her something +or other feet.’</p> + +<p>‘Pretty feet,’ said Alison. ‘I go to tell the +Princess.’</p> + +<p>Next moment from the shadows on the +bank a radiant vision stepped into the circle of +light, crying—</p> + +<p>‘Oh! Rudel, is it indeed thou? Thou art +come at last. O welcome to the arms of the +Princess!’</p> + +<p>‘What do I do now?’ whispered Rudel +(who was Kenneth) in the boat, and at the +same moment Conrad and George said, as with +one voice—</p> + +<p>‘My hat! Alison, won’t you catch it!’</p> + +<p>For at the end of the Princess’s speech she +had thrown back her veils and revealed a blaze +of splendour. She wore several necklaces, one +of seed pearls, one of topazes, and one of +Australian shells, besides a string of amber +and one of coral. And the front of the red +flannel blouse was studded with brooches, in +one at least of which diamonds gleamed. Each +arm had one or two bracelets and on her +clenched hands glittered as many rings as any +Princess could wish to wear.</p> + +<p>So her brothers had some excuse for saying, +‘You’ll catch it.’</p> + +<p>‘No, I sha’n’t. It’s my look out, anyhow. +<a name="png.291" id="png.291"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">242</span><span class="ns"> + </span>Do shut up,’ said the Princess, stamping her +foot. ‘Now then, Ken, go ahead. Ken, you +say, “Oh Lady, I faint with rapture!”’</p> + +<p>‘I faint with rapture,’ said Kenneth stolidly. +‘Now I land, don’t I?’</p> + +<p>He landed and stared at the jewelled hand +the Princess held out.</p> + +<p>‘At last, at last,’ she said, ‘but you ought +to say that, Ken. I say, I think I’d better be +an eloping Princess, and then I can come in +the boat. Rudel dies really, but that’s so dull. +Lead me to your ship, oh noble stranger! for +you have won the Princess, and with you I will +live and die. Give me your hand, can’t you, +silly, and do mind my train.’</p> + +<p>So Kenneth led her to the boat, and with +some difficulty, for the satin train got between +her feet, she managed to flounder into the punt.</p> + +<p>‘Now you stand and bow,’ she said. ‘Fair +Rudel, with this ring I thee wed,’ she pressed a +large amethyst ring into his hand, ‘remember +that the Princess of Tripoli is yours for ever. +Now let’s sing <cite>Integer Vitae</cite> because it’s Latin.’</p> + +<p>So they sat in the boat and sang. And +presently the servants came out to listen and +admire, and at the sound of the servants’ +approach the Princess veiled her shining +splendour.</p> + +<p>‘It’s prettier than wot the Coventry pageant +<a name="png.292" id="png.292"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">243</span><span class="ns"> + </span>was, so it is,’ said the cook, ‘but it’s long past +your bed times. So come on out of that there +dangerous boat, there’s dears.’</p> + +<p>So then the children went to bed. And +when the house was quiet again, Alison slipped +down and put back Ethel’s jewelry, fitting the +things into their cases and boxes as correctly as +she could. ‘Ethel won’t notice,’ she thought, +but of course Ethel did.</p> + +<p>So that next day each child was asked +separately by Ethel’s mother who had been +playing with Ethel’s jewelry. And Conrad +and George said they would rather not say. +This was a form they always used in that +family when that sort of question was asked, +and it meant, ‘It wasn’t me, and I don’t want +to sneak.’</p> + +<p>And when it came to Alison’s turn, she found +to her surprise and horror that instead of saying, +‘I played with them,’ she had said, ‘I would +rather not say.’</p> + +<p>Of course the mother thought that it was +Kenneth who had had the jewels to play +with. So when it came to his turn he was not +asked the same question as the others, but his +aunt said:</p> + +<p>‘Kenneth, you are a very naughty little boy +to take your cousin Ethel’s jewelry to play with.’</p> + +<p>‘I didn’t,’ said Kenneth.</p> + +<p><a name="png.293" id="png.293"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">244</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Hush! hush!’ said the aunt, ‘do not make +your fault worse by untruthfulness. And what +have you done with the amethyst ring?’</p> + +<p>Kenneth was just going to say that he had +given it back to Alison, when he saw that this +would be sneakish. So he said, getting hot to +the ears, ‘You don’t suppose I’ve stolen your +beastly ring, do you, Auntie?’</p> + +<p>‘Don’t you dare to speak to me like that,’ +the aunt very naturally replied. ‘No, Kenneth, +I do not think you would steal, but the ring is +missing and it must be found.’</p> + +<p>Kenneth was furious and frightened. He +stood looking down and kicking the leg of the +chair.</p> + +<p>‘You had better look for it. You will have +plenty of time, because I shall not allow you to +go to the picnic with the others. The mere +taking of the jewelry was wrong, but if you had +owned your fault and asked Ethel’s pardon, I +should have overlooked it. But you have told +me an untruth and you have lost the ring. +You are a very wicked child, and it will make +your dear mother very unhappy when she +hears of it. That her boy should be a liar. +It is worse than being a thief!’</p> + +<p>At this Kenneth’s fortitude gave way, and he +lost his head. ‘Oh, don’t,’ he said, ‘I didn’t. +I didn’t. I didn’t. Oh! don’t tell mother I’m +<a name="png.294" id="png.294"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">245</span><span class="ns"> + </span>a thief and a liar. Oh! Aunt Effie, please, +<em>please</em> don’t.’ And with that he began to cry.</p> + +<p>Any doubts Aunt Effie might have had +were settled by this outbreak. It was now +quite plain to her that Kenneth had really +intended to keep the ring.</p> + +<p>‘You will remain in your room till the picnic +party has started,’ the aunt went on, ‘and then +you must find the ring. Remember I expect +it to be found when I return. And I hope you +will be in a better frame of mind and really +sorry for having been so wicked.’</p> + +<p>‘Mayn’t I see Alison?’ was all he found to +say.</p> + +<p>And the answer was, ‘Certainly not. I +cannot allow you to associate with your cousins. +You are not fit to be with honest, truthful +children.’</p> + +<p>So they all went to the picnic, and Kenneth +was left alone. When they had gone he crept +down and wandered furtively through the +empty rooms, ashamed to face the servants, +and feeling almost as wicked as though he had +really done something wrong. He thought +about it all, over and over again, and the more +he thought the more certain he was that he +<em>had</em> handed back the ring to Alison last night +when the voices of the servants were first +heard from the dark lawn.</p> + +<p><a name="png.295" id="png.295"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">246</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>But what was the use of saying so? No +one would believe him, and it would be sneaking +anyhow. Besides, perhaps he <em>hadn’t</em> +handed it back to her. Or rather, perhaps +he had handed it and she hadn’t taken it. +Perhaps it had slipped into the boat. He +would go and see.</p> + +<p>But he did not find it in the boat, though +he turned up the carpet and even took up the +boards to look. And then an extremely miserable +little boy began to search for an amethyst +ring in all sorts of impossible places, indoors +and out. You know the hopeless way in which +you look for things that you know perfectly +well you will never find, the borrowed penknife +that you dropped in the woods, for +instance, or the week’s pocket-money which +slipped through that hole in your pocket as +you went to the village to spend it.</p> + +<p>The servants gave him his meals and told +him to cheer up. But cheering up and Kenneth +were, for the time, strangers. People in books +never can eat when they are in trouble, but I +have noticed myself that if the trouble has gone +on for some hours, eating is really rather a +comfort. You don’t enjoy eating so much as +usual, perhaps, but at any rate it is something +to do, and takes the edge off your sorrow for a +short time. And cook was sorry for Kenneth +<a name="png.296" id="png.296"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">247</span><span class="ns"> + </span>and sent him up a very nice dinner and a very +nice tea. Roast chicken and gooseberry pie +the dinner was, and for tea there was cake +with almond icing on it.</p> + +<p>The sun was very low when he went back +wearily to have one more look in the boat for +that detestable amethyst ring. Of course it +was not there. And the picnic party would be +home soon. And he really did not know what +his aunt would do to him.</p> + +<p>‘Shut me up in a dark cupboard, perhaps,’ +he thought gloomily, ‘or put me to bed all day +to-morrow. Or give me lines to write out, +thousands, and thousands, and thousands, and +thousands, and thousands, of them.’</p> + +<p>The boat, set in motion by his stepping into +it, swung out to the full length of its rope. The +sun was shining almost level across the water. +It was a very still evening, and the reflections +of the trees and of the house were as distinct as +the house and the trees themselves. And the +water was unusually clear. He could see the +fish swimming about, and the sand and pebbles +at the bottom of the moat. How clear and +quiet it looked down there, and what fun the +fishes seemed to be having.</p> + +<p>‘I wish I was a fish,’ said Kenneth. ‘Nobody +punishes <em>them</em> for taking rings they <em>didn’t</em> +take.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.297" id="png.297"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">248</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>And then suddenly he saw the ring itself, +lying calm, and quiet, and round, and shining, +on the smooth sand at the bottom of the moat.</p> + +<p>He reached for the boat-hook and leaned +over the edge of the boat trying to get up the +ring on the boat-hook’s point. Then there +was a splash.</p> + +<p>‘Good gracious! I wonder what that is?’ +said cook in the kitchen, and dropped the +saucepan with the welsh rabbit in it which she +had just made for kitchen supper.</p> + +<p>Kenneth had leaned out too far over the +edge of the boat, the boat had suddenly +decided to go the other way, and Kenneth had +fallen into the water.</p> + +<p>The first thing he felt was delicious coolness, +the second that his clothes had gone, and the +next thing he noticed was that he was swimming +quite easily and comfortably under water, +and that he had no trouble with his breathing, +such as people who tell you not to fall into +water seem to expect you to have. Also he +could see quite well, which he had never been +able to do under water before.</p> + +<p>‘I can’t think,’ he said to himself, ‘why +people make so much fuss about your falling +into the water. I sha’n’t be in a hurry to get +out. I’ll swim right round the moat while I’m +about it.’</p> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.298" id="png.298"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p248</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-298.png" + width="403" height="700" alt="" title="" /><br + />There was a splash.</p> +</div> + +<p><a name="png.300" id="png.300"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">249</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>It was a very much longer swim than he +expected, and as he swam he noticed one or +two things that struck him as rather odd. One +was that he couldn’t see his hands. And +another was that he couldn’t feel his feet. +And he met some enormous fishes, like great +cod or halibut, they seemed. He had had no +idea that there were fresh-water fish of that +size.</p> + +<p>They towered above him more like men-o’-war +than fish, and he was rather glad to get +past them. There were numbers of smaller +fishes, some about his own size, he thought. +They seemed to be enjoying themselves +extremely, and he admired the clever quickness +with which they darted out of the way of +the great hulking fish.</p> + +<p>And then suddenly he ran into something +hard and very solid, and a voice above him +said crossly:</p> + +<p>‘Now then, who are you a-shoving of? Can’t +you keep your eyes open, and keep your nose +out of gentlemen’s shirt fronts?’</p> + +<p>‘I beg your pardon,’ said Kenneth, trying +to rub his nose, and not being able to. ‘I +didn’t know people could talk under water,’ he +added very much astonished to find that talking +under water was as easy to him as swimming +there.</p> + +<p><a name="png.301" id="png.301"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">250</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Fish can talk under water, of course,’ said +the voice, ‘if they didn’t, they’d never talk at +all: they certainly can’t talk <em>out</em> of it.’</p> + +<p>‘But I’m not a fish,’ said Kenneth, and felt +himself grin at the absurd idea.</p> + +<p>‘Yes, you are,’ said the voice, ‘of course +you’re a fish,’ and Kenneth, with a shiver of +certainty, felt that the voice spoke the truth. +He <em>was</em> a fish. He must have become a fish +at the very moment when he fell into the +water. That accounted for his not being able +to see his hands or feel his feet. Because of +course his hands were fins and his feet were a +tail.</p> + +<p>‘Who are you?’ he asked the voice, and his +own voice trembled.</p> + +<p>‘I’m the Doyen Carp,’ said the voice. +‘You must be a very new fish indeed or +you’d know that. Come up, and let’s have a +look at you.’</p> + +<p>Kenneth came up and found himself face +to face with an enormous fish who had round +staring eyes and a mouth that opened and shut +continually. It opened square like a kit-bag, +and it shut with an extremely sour and severe +expression like that of an offended rhinoceros.</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ said the Carp, ‘you <em>are</em> a new fish. +Who put you in?’</p> + +<p>‘I fell in,’ said Kenneth, ‘out of the boat, +<a name="png.302" id="png.302"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">251</span><span class="ns"> + </span>but I’m not a fish at all, really I’m not. I’m a +boy, but I don’t suppose you’ll believe me.’</p> + +<p>‘Why shouldn’t I believe you?’ asked the +Carp wagging a slow fin. ‘Nobody tells untruths +under water.’</p> + +<p>And if you come to think of it, no one ever +does.</p> + +<p>‘Tell me your true story,’ said the Carp +very lazily. And Kenneth told it.</p> + +<p>‘Ah! these humans!’ said the Carp when +he had done. ‘Always in such a hurry to think +the worst of everybody!’ He opened his +mouth squarely and shut it contemptuously. +‘You’re jolly lucky, you are. Not one boy in +a million turns into a fish, let me tell you.’</p> + +<p>‘Do you mean that I’ve got to <em>go on</em> being +a fish?’ Kenneth asked.</p> + +<p>‘Of course you’ll go on being a fish as long +as you stop in the water. You couldn’t live +here, you know, if you weren’t.’</p> + +<p>‘I might if I was an eel,’ said Kenneth, and +thought himself very clever.</p> + +<p>‘Well, <em>be</em> an eel then,’ said the Carp, and +swam away sneering and stately. Kenneth +had to swim his hardest to catch up.</p> + +<p>‘Then if I get out of the water, shall I be a +boy again?’ he asked panting.</p> + +<p>‘Of course, silly,’ said the Carp, ‘only you +can’t get out.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.303" id="png.303"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">252</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Oh! can’t I?’ said Kenneth the fish, +whisked his tail and swam off. He went +straight back to the amethyst ring, picked it up +in his mouth, and swam into the shallows at +the edge of the moat. Then he tried to climb +up the slanting mud and on to the grassy bank, +but the grass hurt his fins horribly, and when +he put his nose out of the water, the air stifled +him, and he was glad to slip back again. +Then he tried to jump out of the water, but he +could only jump straight up into the air, so of +course he fell straight down again into the +water. He began to be afraid, and the thought +that perhaps he was doomed to remain for ever +a fish was indeed a terrible one. He wanted +to cry, but the tears would not come out of his +eyes. Perhaps there was no room for any +more water in the moat.</p> + +<p>The smaller fishes called to him in a friendly +jolly way to come and play with them—they +were having a quite exciting game of follow-my-leader +among some enormous water-lily +stalks that looked like trunks of great trees. +But Kenneth had no heart for games just then.</p> + +<p>He swam miserably round the moat looking +for the old Carp, his only acquaintance in this +strange wet world. And at last, pushing +through a thick tangle of water weeds he found +the great fish.</p> + +<p><a name="png.304" id="png.304"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">253</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Now then,’ said the Carp testily, ‘haven’t +you any better manners than to come tearing a +gentleman’s bed-curtains like that?’</p> + +<p>‘I beg your pardon,’ said Kenneth Fish, +‘but I know how clever you are. Do please +help me.’</p> + +<p>‘What do you want now?’ said the Carp, +and spoke a little less crossly.</p> + +<p>‘I want to get out. I want to go and be a +boy again.’</p> + +<p>‘But you must have said you wanted to be +a fish.’</p> + +<p>‘I didn’t mean it, if I did.’</p> + +<p>‘You shouldn’t say what you don’t mean.’</p> + +<p>‘I’ll try not to again,’ said Kenneth humbly, +‘but how can I get out?’</p> + +<p>‘There’s only one way,’ said the Carp rolling +his vast body over in his watery bed, ‘and +a jolly unpleasant way it is. Far better stay +here and be a good little fish. On the honour +of a gentleman that’s the best thing you can +do.’</p> + +<p>‘I want to get out,’ said Kenneth again.</p> + +<p>‘Well then, the only way is … you know +we always teach the young fish to look out for +hooks so that they may avoid them. <em>You</em> +must look out for a hook and <em>take it</em>. Let +them catch you. On a hook.’</p> + +<p>The Carp shuddered and went on solemnly, +<a name="png.305" id="png.305"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">254</span><span class="ns"> + </span>‘Have you strength? Have you patience? +Have you high courage and determination? +You will want them all. Have you all these?’</p> + +<p>‘I don’t know what I’ve got,’ said poor +Kenneth, ‘except that I’ve got a tail and fins, +and I don’t know a hook when I see it. Won’t +you come with me? Oh! dear Mr. Doyen +Carp, <em>do</em> come and show me a hook.’</p> + +<p>‘It will hurt you,’ said the Carp, ‘very +much indeed. You take a gentleman’s word +for it.’</p> + +<p>‘I know,’ said Kenneth, ‘you needn’t rub it +in.’</p> + +<p>The Carp rolled heavily out of his bed.</p> + +<p>‘Come on then,’ he said, ‘I don’t admire +your taste, but if you <em>want</em> a hook, well, the +gardener’s boy is fishing in the cool of the +evening. Come on.’</p> + +<p>He led the way with a steady stately movement.</p> + +<p>‘I want to take the ring with me,’ said +Kenneth, ‘but I can’t get hold of it. Do you +think you could put it on my fin with your +snout?’</p> + +<p>‘My what!’ shouted the old Carp indignantly +and stopped dead.</p> + +<p>‘Your nose, I meant,’ said Kenneth. ‘Oh! +please don’t be angry. It would be so kind of +you if you would. Shove the ring on, I mean.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.306" id="png.306"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">255</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘That will hurt too,’ said the Carp, and +Kenneth thought he seemed not altogether +sorry that it should.</p> + +<p>It did hurt very much indeed. The ring +was hard and heavy, and somehow Kenneth’s +fin would not fold up small enough for the ring +to slip over it, and the Carp’s big mouth was +rather clumsy at the work. But at last it was +done. And then they set out in search of a +hook for Kenneth to be caught with.</p> + +<p>‘I wish we could find one! I wish we +could!’ Kenneth Fish kept saying.</p> + +<p>‘You’re just looking for trouble,’ said the +Carp. ‘Well, here you are!’</p> + +<p>Above them in the clear water hung a +delicious-looking worm. Kenneth Boy did not +like worms any better than you do, but to +Kenneth Fish that worm looked most tempting +and delightful.</p> + +<p>‘Just wait a sec.,’ he said, ‘till I get that +worm.’</p> + +<p>‘You little silly,’ said the Carp, ‘<em>that’s the +hook</em>. Take it.’</p> + +<p>‘Wait a sec.,’ said Kenneth again.</p> + +<p>His courage was beginning to ooze out of +his fin tips, and a shiver ran down him from +gills to tail.</p> + +<p>‘If you once begin to think about a hook +you never take it,’ said the Carp.</p> + +<p><a name="png.307" id="png.307"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">256</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘<em>Never?</em>’ said Kenneth ‘Then … oh! +good-bye!’ he cried desperately, and snapped +at the worm. A sharp pain ran through his +head and he felt himself drawn up into the air, +that stifling, choking, husky, thick stuff in which +fish cannot breathe. And as he swung in the +air the dreadful thought came to him, ‘Suppose +I don’t turn into a boy again? Suppose I keep +being a fish?’ And then he wished he hadn’t. +But it was too late to wish that.</p> + +<p>Everything grew quite dark, only inside his +head there seemed to be a light. There was a +wild, rushing, buzzing noise, then something in +his head seemed to break and he knew no more.</p> + +<div class="blockq fivestar">* * * * *</div> + +<p>When presently he knew things again, he +was lying on something hard. Was he Kenneth +Fish lying on a stone at the bottom of the +moat, or Kenneth Boy lying somewhere out of +the water? His breathing was all right, so +he wasn’t a fish out of water or a boy under it.</p> + +<p>‘He’s coming to,’ said a voice. The Carp’s +he thought it was. But next moment he knew +it to be the voice of his aunt, and he moved +his hand and felt grass in it. He opened his +eyes and saw above him the soft gray of the +evening sky with a star or two.</p> + +<p>‘Here’s the ring, Aunt,’ he said.</p> + +<div class="blockq fivestar">* * * * *</div> + +<div class="illus"> +<p><a name="png.308" id="png.308"></a><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">opp p256</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img class="framed" src="images/illus-308.png" + width="432" height="700" alt="" title="" /><br + />‘Oh, good-bye!’ he cried desperately, and snapped at the worm.</p> +</div> + + +<p><a name="png.310" id="png.310"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">257</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>The cook had heard a splash and had run +out just as the picnic party arrived at the front +door. They had all rushed to the moat, and +the uncle had pulled Kenneth out with the +boat-hook. He had not been in the water +more than three minutes, they said. But +Kenneth knew better.</p> + +<p>They carried him in, very wet he was, and +laid him on the breakfast-room sofa, where the +aunt with hurried thoughtfulness had spread +out the uncle’s mackintosh.</p> + +<p>‘Get some rough towels, Jane,’ said the +aunt. ‘Make haste, do.’</p> + +<p>‘I got the ring,’ said Kenneth.</p> + +<p>‘Never mind about the ring, dear,’ said the +aunt, taking his boots off.</p> + +<p>‘But you said I was a thief and a liar,’ +Kenneth said feebly, ‘and it was in the moat +all the time.’</p> + +<p>‘<em>Mother!</em>’ it was Alison who shrieked. +‘You didn’t say that to him?’</p> + +<p>‘Of course I didn’t,’ said the aunt impatiently. +She thought she hadn’t, but then Kenneth +thought she had.</p> + +<p>‘It was <em>me</em> took the ring,’ said Alison, ‘and +I dropped it. I didn’t say I hadn’t. I only +said I’d rather not say. Oh Mother! poor +Kenneth!’</p> + +<p>The aunt, without a word, carried Kenneth +<a name="png.311" id="png.311"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">258</span><span class="ns"> + </span>up to the bath-room and turned on the hot-water +tap. The uncle and Ethel followed.</p> + +<p>‘Why didn’t you own up, you sneak?’ said +Conrad to his sister with withering scorn.</p> + +<p>‘Sneak,’ echoed the stout George.</p> + +<p>‘I meant to. I was only getting steam up,’ +sobbed Alison. ‘I didn’t know. Mother only +told us she wasn’t pleased with Ken, and so +he wasn’t to go to the picnic. Oh! what shall I +do? What shall I do?’</p> + +<p>‘Sneak!’ said her brothers in chorus, and +left her to her tears of shame and remorse.</p> + +<p>It was Kenneth who next day begged +every one to forgive and forget. And as it was +<em>his</em> day—rather like a birthday, you know—when +no one could refuse him anything, all +agreed that the whole affair should be buried +in oblivion. Every one was tremendously kind, +the aunt more so than any one. But Alison’s +eyes were still red when in the afternoon they +all went fishing once more. And before +Kenneth’s hook had been two minutes in the +water there was a bite, a very big fish, the +uncle had to be called from his study to land it.</p> + +<p>‘Here’s a magnificent fellow,’ said the uncle. +‘Not an ounce less than two pounds, Ken. +I’ll have it stuffed for you.’</p> + +<p>And he held out the fish and Kenneth found +himself face to face with the Doyen Carp. +<a name="png.312" id="png.312"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">259</span><span class="ns"> + </span>There was no mistaking that mouth that +opened like a kit-bag, and shut in a sneer like +a rhinoceros’s. Its eye was most reproachful.</p> + +<p>‘Oh! no,’ cried Kenneth, ‘you helped me +back and I’ll help you back,’ and he caught the +Carp from the hands of the uncle and flung it +out in the moat.</p> + +<p>‘Your head’s not quite right yet, my boy,’ +said the uncle kindly. ‘Hadn’t you better go +in and lie down a bit?’</p> + +<p>But Alison understood, for he had told +her the whole story. He had told her that +morning before breakfast while she was still in +deep disgrace; to cheer her up, he said. And, +most disappointingly, it made her cry more than +ever.</p> + +<p>‘Your poor little fins,’ she had said, ‘and +having your feet tied up in your tail. And it +was all my fault.’</p> + +<p class="pgbrk">‘I liked it,’ Kenneth had said with earnest +politeness, ‘it was a most awful lark.’ And +he quite meant what he said.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="png.313" id="png.313"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">260</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><b>XII</b><br + />THE MAGICIAN’S HEART</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">We</span> all have our weaknesses. Mine is mulberries. +Yours, perhaps, motor cars. Professor +Taykin’s was christenings—royal christenings. +He always expected to be asked to the christening +parties of all the little royal babies, and +of course he never was, because he was not +a lord, or a duke, or a seller of bacon and +tea, or anything really high-class, but merely +a wicked magician, who by economy and strict +attention to customers had worked up a very +good business of his own. He had not always +been wicked. He was born quite good, I +believe, and his old nurse, who had long since +married a farmer and retired into the calm of +country life, always used to say that he was +the duckiest little boy in a plaid frock with +the dearest little fat legs. But he had changed +since he was a boy, as a good many other +people do—perhaps it was his trade. I dare +say you’ve noticed that cobblers are usually +<a name="png.314" id="png.314"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">261</span><span class="ns"> + </span>thin, and brewers are generally fat, and +magicians are almost always wicked.</p> + +<p>Well, his weakness (for christenings) grew +stronger and stronger because it was never +indulged, and at last he ‘took the bull into +his own hands,’ as the Irish footman at the +palace said, and went to a christening without +being asked. It was a very grand party given +by the King of the Fortunate Islands, and the +little prince was christened Fortunatus. No +one took any notice of Professor Taykin. They +were too polite to turn him out, but they made +him wish he’d never come. He felt quite an +outsider, as indeed he was, and this made him +furious. So that when all the bright, light, +laughing, fairy godmothers were crowding round +the blue satin cradle, and giving gifts of beauty +and strength and goodness to the baby, the +Magician suddenly did a very difficult charm +(in his head, like you do mental arithmetic), +and said:</p> + +<p>‘Young Forty may be all that, but <em>I</em> say +he shall be the stupidest prince in the world,’ +and on that he vanished in a puff of red smoke +with a smell like the Fifth of November in a +back garden on Streatham Hill, and as he left +no address the King of the Fortunate Islands +couldn’t prosecute him for high treason.</p> + +<p>Taykin was very glad to think that he had +<a name="png.315" id="png.315"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">262</span><span class="ns"> + </span>made such a lot of people unhappy—the whole +Court was in tears when he left, including the +baby—and he looked in the papers for another +royal christening, so that he could go to +that and make a lot more people miserable. +And there was one fixed for the very next +Wednesday. The Magician went to that, too, +disguised as a wealthy.</p> + +<p>This time the baby was a girl. Taykin +kept close to the pink velvet cradle, and when +all the nice qualities in the world had been +given to the Princess he suddenly said, ‘Little +Aura may be all that, but <em>I</em> say she shall be +the ugliest princess in all the world.’</p> + +<p>And instantly she was. It was terrible. +And she had been such a beautiful baby too. +Every one had been saying that she was the +most beautiful baby they had ever seen. This +sort of thing is often said at christenings.</p> + +<p>Having uglified the unfortunate little Princess +the Magician did the spell (in his mind, +just as you do your spelling) to make himself +vanish, but to his horror there was no red +smoke and no smell of fireworks, and there +he was, still, where he now very much wished +not to be. Because one of the fairies there +had seen, just one second too late to save the +Princess, what he was up to, and had made a +strong little charm in a great hurry to prevent +<a name="png.316" id="png.316"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">263</span><span class="ns"> + </span>his vanishing. This Fairy was a White Witch, +and of course you know that White Magic is +much stronger than Black Magic, as well as +more suited for drawing-room performances. +So there the Magician stood, ‘looking like a +thunder-struck pig,’ as some one unkindly said, +and the dear White Witch bent down and +kissed the baby princess.</p> + +<p>‘There!’ she said, ‘you can keep that kiss +till you want it. When the time comes you’ll +know what to do with it. The Magician can’t +vanish, Sire. You’d better arrest him.’</p> + +<p>‘Arrest that person,’ said the King, pointing +to Taykin. ‘I suppose your charms are of a +permanent nature, madam.’</p> + +<p>‘Quite,’ said the Fairy, ‘at least they never +go till there’s no longer any use for them.’</p> + +<p>So the Magician was shut up in an enormously +high tower, and allowed to play with +magic; but none of his spells could act outside +the tower so he was never able to pass the +extra double guard that watched outside night +and day. The King would have liked to have +the Magician executed but the White Witch +warned him that this would never do.</p> + +<p>‘Don’t you see,’ she said, ‘he’s the only +person who can make the Princess beautiful +again. And he’ll do it some day. But don’t +you go <em>asking</em> him to do it. He’ll never do +<a name="png.317" id="png.317"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">264</span><span class="ns"> + </span>anything to oblige you. He’s that sort of +man.’</p> + +<p>So the years rolled on. The Magician +stayed in the tower and did magic and was +very bored,—for it is dull to take white rabbits +out of your hat, and your hat out of nothing +when there’s no one to see you.</p> + +<p>Prince Fortunatus was such a stupid little +boy that he got lost quite early in the story, +and went about the country saying his name +was James, which it wasn’t. A baker’s wife +found him and adopted him, and sold the +diamond buttons of his little overcoat, for three +hundred pounds, and as she was a very honest +woman she put two hundred away for James +to have when he grew up.</p> + +<p>The years rolled on. Aura continued to +be hideous, and she was very unhappy, till +on her twentieth birthday her married cousin +Belinda came to see her. Now Belinda had +been made ugly in her cradle too, so she could +sympathise as no one else could.</p> + +<p>‘But <em>I</em> got out of it all right, and so will +you,’ said Belinda. ‘I’m sure the first thing +to do is to find a magician.’</p> + +<p>‘Father banished them all twenty years +ago,’ said Aura behind her veil, ‘all but the +one who uglified me.’</p> + +<p>‘Then I should go to <em>him</em>,’ said beautiful +<a name="png.318" id="png.318"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">265</span><span class="ns"> + </span>Belinda. ‘Dress up as a beggar maid, and +give him fifty pounds to do it. Not more, +or he may suspect that you’re not a beggar +maid. It will be great fun. I’d go with you +only I promised Bellamant faithfully that I’d +be home to lunch.’ And off she went in her +mother-of-pearl coach, leaving Aura to look +through the bound volumes of <cite>The Perfect +Lady</cite> in the palace library, to find out the +proper costume for a beggar maid.</p> + +<p>Now that very morning the Magician’s old +nurse had packed up a ham, and some eggs, +and some honey, and some apples, and a sweet +bunch of old-fashioned flowers, and borrowed +the baker’s boy to hold the horse for her, +and started off to see the Magician. It was +forty years since she’d seen him, but she loved +him still, and now she thought she could do +him a good turn. She asked in the town for +his address, and learned that he lived in the +Black Tower.</p> + +<p>‘But you’d best be careful,’ the townsfolk +said, ‘he’s a spiteful chap.’</p> + +<p>‘Bless you,’ said the old nurse, ‘he won’t +hurt me as nursed him when he was a babe, +in a plaid frock with the dearest little fat legs +ever you see.’</p> + +<p>So she got to the tower, and the guards let +her through. Taykin was almost pleased to +<a name="png.319" id="png.319"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">266</span><span class="ns"> + </span>see her—remember he had had no visitors for +twenty years—and he was quite pleased to see +the ham and the honey.</p> + +<p>‘But where did I put them <em>h</em>eggs?’ said the +nurse, ‘and the apples—I must have left them +at home after all.’</p> + +<p>She had. But the Magician just waved his +hand in the air, and there was a basket of <!-- Transcriber's note: original reads "of of" --> +apples that hadn’t been there before. The +eggs he took out of her bonnet, the folds of +her shawl, and even from his own mouth, just +like a conjurer does. Only of course he was +a real Magician.</p> + +<p>‘Lor!’ said she, ‘it’s like magic.’</p> + +<p>‘It <em>is</em> magic,’ said he. ‘That’s my trade. +It’s quite a pleasure to have an audience again. +I’ve lived here alone for twenty years. It’s +very lonely, especially of an evening.’</p> + +<p>‘Can’t you get out?’ said the nurse.</p> + +<p>‘No. King’s orders must be respected, but +it’s a dog’s life.’ He sniffed, made himself a +magic handkerchief out of empty air, and +wiped his eyes.</p> + +<p>‘Take an apprentice, my dear,’ said the +nurse.</p> + +<p>‘And teach him my magic? Not me.’</p> + +<p>‘Suppose you got one so stupid he <em>couldn’t</em> +learn?’</p> + +<p>‘That would be all right—but it’s no use +<a name="png.320" id="png.320"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">267</span><span class="ns"> + </span>advertising for a stupid person—you’d get no +answers.’</p> + +<p>‘You needn’t advertise,’ said the nurse; +and she went out and brought in James, who +was really the Prince of the Fortunate Islands, +and also the baker’s boy she had brought with +her to hold the horse’s head.</p> + +<p>‘Now, James,’ she said, ‘you’d like to be +apprenticed, wouldn’t you?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ said the poor stupid boy.</p> + +<p>‘Then give the gentleman your money, +James.’</p> + +<p>James did.</p> + +<p>‘My last doubts vanish,’ said the Magician, ‘he +<em>is</em> stupid. Nurse, let us celebrate the occasion +with a little drop of something. Not before +the boy because of setting an example. James, +wash up. Not here, silly; in the back kitchen.’</p> + +<p>So James washed up, and as he was very +clumsy he happened to break a little bottle of +essence of dreams that was on the shelf, and +instantly there floated up from the washing-up +water the vision of a princess more beautiful +than the day—so beautiful that even James +could not help seeing how beautiful she was, +and holding out his arms to her as she came +floating through the air above the kitchen sink. +But when he held out his arms she vanished. +He sighed and washed up harder than ever.</p> + +<p><a name="png.321" id="png.321"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">268</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘I wish I wasn’t so stupid,’ he said, and +then there was a knock at the door. James +wiped his hands and opened. Some one stood +there in very picturesque rags and tatters. +‘Please,’ said some one, who was of course the +Princess, ‘is Professor Taykin at home?’</p> + +<p>‘Walk in, please,’ said James.</p> + +<p>‘My snakes alive!’ said Taykin, ‘what a day +we’re having. Three visitors in one morning. +How kind of you to call. Won’t you take a +chair?’</p> + +<p>‘I hoped,’ said the veiled Princess, ‘that +you’d give me something else to take.’</p> + +<p>‘A glass of wine,’ said Taykin. ‘You’ll +take a glass of wine?’</p> + +<p>‘No, thank you,’ said the beggar maid who +was the Princess.</p> + +<p>‘Then take … take your veil off,’ said +the nurse, ‘or you won’t feel the benefit of it +when you go out.’</p> + +<p>‘I can’t,’ said Aura, ‘it wouldn’t be safe.’</p> + +<p>‘Too beautiful, eh?’ said the Magician. +‘Still—you’re quite safe here.’</p> + +<p>‘Can you do magic?’ she abruptly asked.</p> + +<p>‘A little,’ said he ironically.</p> + +<p>‘Well,’ said she, ‘it’s like this. I’m so ugly +no one can bear to look at me. And I want +to go as kitchenmaid to the palace. They +want a cook and a scullion and a kitchenmaid. +<a name="png.322" id="png.322"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">269</span><span class="ns"> + </span>I thought perhaps you’d give me something +to make me pretty. I’m only a poor beggar +maid…. It would be a great thing to me if….’</p> + +<p>‘Go along with you,’ said Taykin, very +cross indeed. ‘I never give to beggars.’</p> + +<p>‘Here’s twopence,’ whispered poor James, +pressing it into her hand, ‘it’s all I’ve got left.’</p> + +<p>‘Thank you,’ she whispered back. ‘You +<em>are</em> good.’</p> + +<p>And to the Magician she said:</p> + +<p>‘I happen to have fifty pounds. I’ll give it +you for a new face.’</p> + +<p>‘Done,’ cried Taykin. ‘Here’s another +stupid one!’ He grabbed the money, waved +his wand, and then and there before the +astonished eyes of the nurse and the apprentice +the ugly beggar maid became the loveliest +princess in the world.</p> + +<p>‘Lor!’ said the nurse.</p> + +<p>‘My dream!’ cried the apprentice.</p> + +<p>‘Please,’ said the Princess, ‘can I have a +looking-glass?’ The apprentice ran to unhook +the one that hung over the kitchen sink, and +handed it to her. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘how <em>very</em> +pretty I am. How can I thank you?’</p> + +<p>‘Quite easily,’ said the Magician, ‘beggar +maid as you are, I hereby offer you my hand +and heart.’</p> + +<p>He put his hand into his waistcoat and +<a name="png.323" id="png.323"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">270</span><span class="ns"> + </span>pulled out his heart. It was fat and pink, and +the Princess did not like the look of it.</p> + +<p>‘Thank you very much,’ said she, ‘but I’d +rather not.’</p> + +<p>‘But I insist,’ said Taykin.</p> + +<p>‘But really, your offer….’</p> + +<p>‘Most handsome, I’m sure,’ said the nurse.</p> + +<p>‘My affections are engaged,’ said the +Princess, looking down. ‘I can’t marry you.’</p> + +<p>‘Am I to take this as a refusal?’ asked +Taykin; and the Princess said she feared that +he was.</p> + +<p>‘Very well, then,’ he said, ‘I shall see you +home, and ask your father about it. He’ll +not let you refuse an offer like this. Nurse, +come and tie my necktie.’</p> + +<p>So he went out, and the nurse with him.</p> + +<p>Then the Princess told the apprentice in +a very great hurry who she was.</p> + +<p>‘It would never do,’ she said, ‘for him to +see me home. He’d find out that I was the +Princess, and he’d uglify me again in no +time.’</p> + +<p>‘He sha’n’t see you home,’ said James. ‘I +may be stupid but I’m strong too.’</p> + +<p>‘How brave you are,’ said Aura admiringly, +‘but I’d rather slip away quietly, without any +fuss. Can’t you undo the patent lock of that +door?’ The apprentice tried but he was too +<a name="png.324" id="png.324"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">271</span><span class="ns"> + </span>stupid, and the Princess was not strong +enough.</p> + +<p>‘I’m sorry,’ said the apprentice who was a +Prince. ‘I can’t undo the door, but when <em>he</em> +does I’ll hold him and you can get away. I +dreamed of you this morning,’ he added.</p> + +<p>‘I dreamed of you too,’ said she, ‘but you +were different.’</p> + +<p>‘Perhaps,’ said poor James sadly, ‘the +person you dreamed about wasn’t stupid, and +I am.’</p> + +<p>‘Are you <em>really</em>?’ cried the Princess. ‘I +<em>am</em> so glad!’</p> + +<p>‘That’s rather unkind, isn’t it?’ said he.</p> + +<p>‘No; because if <em>that’s</em> all that makes you +different from the man I dreamed about I can +soon make <em>that</em> all right.’</p> + +<p>And with that she put her hands on his +shoulders and kissed him. And at her kiss +his stupidness passed away like a cloud, and +he became as clever as any one need be; and +besides knowing all the ordinary lessons he +would have learned if he had stayed at home +in his palace, he knew who he was, and where +he was, and why, and he knew all the geography +of his father’s kingdom, and the exports and +imports and the condition of politics. And he +knew also that the Princess loved him.</p> + +<p>So he caught her in his arms and kissed +<a name="png.325" id="png.325"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">272</span><span class="ns"> + </span>her, and they were very happy, and told each +other over and over again what a beautiful +world it was, and how wonderful it was that +they should have found each other, seeing that +the world is not only beautiful but rather large.</p> + +<p>‘That first one was a magic kiss, you know,’ +said she. ‘My fairy godmother gave it to me, +and I’ve been keeping it all these years for +you. You must get away from here, and come +to the palace. Oh, you’ll manage it—you’re +clever now.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I <em>am</em> clever now. I can +undo the lock for you. Go, my dear, go +before he comes back.’</p> + +<p>So the Princess went. And only just in +time; for as she went out of one door Taykin +came in at the other.</p> + +<p>He was furious to find her gone; and I +should not like to write down the things he +said to his apprentice when he found that +James had been so stupid as to open the door +for her. They were not polite things at all.</p> + +<p>He tried to follow her. But the Princess +had warned the guards, and he could not get +out.</p> + +<p>‘Oh,’ he cried, ‘if only my old magic would +work outside this tower. I’d soon be even +with her.’</p> + +<p>And then in a strange, confused, yet quite +<a name="png.326" id="png.326"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">273</span><span class="ns"> + </span>sure way, he felt that the spell that held him, +the White Witch’s spell, was dissolved.</p> + +<p>‘To the palace!’ he cried; and rushing to +the cauldron that hung over the fire he leaped +into it, leaped out in the form of a red lion, +and disappeared.</p> + +<p>Without a moment’s hesitation the Prince, +who was his apprentice, followed him, calling +out the same words and leaping into the same +cauldron, while the poor nurse screamed and +wrung her hands. As he touched the liquor +in the cauldron he felt that he was not quite +himself. He was, in fact, a green dragon. +He felt himself vanish—a most uncomfortable +sensation—and reappeared, with a suddenness +that took his breath away, in his own form and +at the back door of the palace.</p> + +<p>The time had been short, but already the +Magician had succeeded in obtaining an engagement +as palace cook. How he did it +without references I don’t know. Perhaps he +made the references by magic as he had made +the eggs, and the apples, and the handkerchief.</p> + +<p>Taykin’s astonishment and annoyance at +being followed by his faithful apprentice were +soon soothed, for he saw that a stupid scullion +would be of great use. Of course he had no +idea that James had been made clever by a +kiss.</p> + +<p><a name="png.327" id="png.327"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">274</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘But how are you going to cook?’ asked +the apprentice. ‘You don’t know how!’</p> + +<p>‘I shall cook,’ said Taykin, ‘as I do everything +else—by magic.’ And he did. I wish +I had time to tell you how he turned out a +hot dinner of seventeen courses from totally +empty saucepans, how James looked in a cupboard +for spices and found it empty, and how +next moment the nurse walked out of it. The +Magician had been so long alone that he +seemed to revel in the luxury of showing +off to some one, and he leaped about from +one cupboard to another, produced cats and +cockatoos out of empty jars, and made mice +and rabbits disappear and reappear till James’s +head was in a whirl, for all his cleverness; and +the nurse, as she washed up, wept tears of +pure joy at her boy’s wonderful skill.</p> + +<p>‘All this excitement’s bad for my heart, +though,’ Taykin said at last, and pulling his +heart out of his chest, he put it on a shelf, and +as he did so his magic note-book fell from his +breast and the apprentice picked it up. Taykin +did not see him do it; he was busy making the +kitchen lamp fly about the room like a pigeon.</p> + +<p>It was just then that the Princess came in, +looking more lovely than ever in a simple +little morning frock of white chiffon and +diamonds.</p> + +<p><a name="png.328" id="png.328"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">275</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘The beggar maid,’ said Taykin, ‘looking +like a princess! I’ll marry her just the +same.’</p> + +<p>‘I’ve come to give the orders for dinner,’ +she said; and then she saw who it was, and +gave one little cry and stood still, trembling.</p> + +<p>‘To order the dinner,’ said the nurse. +‘Then <span class="nw">you’re——’</span></p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ said Aura, ‘I’m the Princess.’</p> + +<p>‘You’re the Princess,’ said the Magician. +‘Then I’ll marry you all the more. And if +you say no I’ll uglify you as the word leaves +your lips. Oh, yes—you think I’ve just been +amusing myself over my cooking—but I’ve +really been brewing the strongest spell in the +world. Marry me—or <span class="nw">drink——’</span></p> + +<p>The Princess shuddered at these dreadful +words.</p> + +<p>‘Drink, or marry me,’ said the Magician. +‘If you marry me you shall be beautiful for +ever.’</p> + +<p>‘Ah,’ said the nurse, ‘he’s a match even for +a Princess.’</p> + +<p>‘I’ll tell papa,’ said the Princess, sobbing.</p> + +<p>‘No, you won’t,’ said Taykin. ‘Your father +will never know. If you won’t marry me you +shall drink this and become my scullery maid—my +hideous scullery maid—and wash up for +ever in the lonely tower.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.329" id="png.329"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">276</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>He caught her by the wrist.</p> + +<p>‘Stop,’ cried the apprentice, who was a +Prince.</p> + +<p>‘Stop? <em>Me?</em> Nonsense! Pooh!’ said +the Magician.</p> + +<p>‘Stop, I say!’ said James, who was +Fortunatus. ‘<em>I’ve got your heart!</em>’ He had—and +he held it up in one hand, and in the +other a cooking knife.</p> + +<p>‘One step nearer that lady,’ said he, ‘and +in goes the knife.’</p> + +<p>The Magician positively skipped in his +agony and terror.</p> + +<p>‘I say, look out!’ he cried. ‘Be careful +what you’re doing. Accidents happen so +easily! Suppose your foot slipped! Then no +apologies would meet the case. That’s my +heart you’ve got there. My life’s bound up +in it.’</p> + +<p>‘I know. That’s often the case with people’s +hearts,’ said Fortunatus. ‘We’ve got you, my +dear sir, on toast. My Princess, might I +trouble you to call the guards.’</p> + +<p>The Magician did not dare to resist, so the +guards arrested him. The nurse, though in +floods of tears, managed to serve up a very good +plain dinner, and after dinner the Magician +was brought before the King.</p> + +<p>Now the King, as soon as he had seen that +<a name="png.330" id="png.330"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">277</span><span class="ns"> + </span>his daughter had been made so beautiful, had +caused a large number of princes to be fetched +by telephone. He was anxious to get her +married at once in case she turned ugly again. +So before he could do justice to the Magician +he had to settle which of the princes was to +marry the Princess. He had chosen the Prince +of the Diamond Mountains, a very nice steady +young man with a good income. But when +he suggested the match to the Princess she +declined it, and the Magician, who was standing +at the foot of the throne steps loaded with +chains, clattered forward and said:</p> + +<p>‘Your Majesty, will you spare my life if I +tell you something you don’t know?’</p> + +<p>The King, who was a very inquisitive man, +said ‘Yes.’</p> + +<p>‘Then know,’ said Taykin, ‘that the Princess +won’t marry <em>your</em> choice, because she’s made +one of her own—my apprentice.’</p> + +<p>The Princess meant to have told her father +this when she had got him alone and in a good +temper. But now he was in a bad temper, and +in full audience.</p> + +<p>The apprentice was dragged in, and all the +Princess’s agonized pleadings only got this out +of the King—</p> + +<p>‘All right. I won’t hang him. He shall be +best man at your wedding.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.331" id="png.331"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">278</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span> +Then the King took his daughter’s hand +and set her in the middle of the hall, and set +the Prince of the Diamond Mountains on her +right and the apprentice on her left. Then he +said:</p> + +<p>‘I will spare the life of this aspiring youth +on your left if you’ll promise never to speak to +him again, and if you’ll promise to marry the +gentleman on your right before tea this afternoon.’</p> + +<p>The wretched Princess looked at her lover, +and his lips formed the word ‘Promise.’</p> + +<p>So she said: ‘I promise never to speak to +the gentleman on my left and to marry the +gentleman on my right before tea to-day,’ and +held out her hand to the Prince of the +Diamond Mountains.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly, in the twinkling of an eye, +the Prince of the Diamond Mountains was on +her left, and her hand was held by her own +Prince, who stood at her right hand. And yet +nobody seemed to have moved. It was the +purest and most high-class magic.</p> + +<p>‘Dished,’ cried the King, ‘absolutely +dished!’</p> + +<p>‘A mere trifle,’ said the apprentice modestly. +‘I’ve got Taykin’s magic recipe book, as well +as his heart.’</p> + +<p>‘Well, we must make the best of it, I +<a name="png.332" id="png.332"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">279</span><span class="ns"> + </span>suppose,’ said the King crossly. ‘Bless you, +my children.’</p> + +<p>He was less cross when it was explained +to him that the apprentice was really the Prince +of the Fortunate Islands, and a much better +match than the Prince of the Diamond +Mountains, and he was quite in a good temper +by the time the nurse threw herself in front of +the throne and begged the King to let the +Magician off altogether—chiefly on the ground +that when he was a baby he was the dearest +little duck that ever was, in the prettiest plaid +frock, with the loveliest fat legs.</p> + +<p>The King, moved by these arguments, +said:</p> + +<p>‘I’ll spare him if he’ll promise to be good.’</p> + +<p>‘You will, ducky, won’t you?’ said the +nurse, crying.</p> + +<p>‘No,’ said the Magician, ‘I won’t; and +what’s more, I can’t.’</p> + +<p>The Princess, who was now so happy that +she wanted every one else to be happy too, +begged her lover to make Taykin good ‘by +magic.’</p> + +<p>‘Alas, my dearest Lady,’ said the Prince, +‘no one can be made good by magic. I could +take the badness out of him—there’s an +excellent recipe in this note-book—but if I +did that there’d be so very little left.’</p> + +<p><a name="png.333" id="png.333"></a><span class="ns">[p</span><span + class="pgmark">280</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>‘Every little helps,’ said the nurse wildly.</p> + +<p>Prince Fortunatus, who was James, who +was the apprentice, studied the book for a +few moments, and then said a few words in +a language no one present had ever heard +before.</p> + +<p>And as he spoke the wicked Magician began +to tremble and shrink.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, my boy—be good! Promise you’ll be +good,’ cried the nurse, still in tears.</p> + +<p>The Magician seemed to be shrinking inside +his clothes. He grew smaller and smaller. +The nurse caught him in her arms, and still +he grew less and less, till she seemed to be +holding nothing but a bundle of clothes. Then +with a cry of love and triumph she tore the +Magician’s clothes away and held up a chubby +baby boy, with the very plaid frock and fat legs +she had so often and so lovingly described.</p> + +<p>‘I said there wouldn’t be much of him +when the badness was out,’ said the Prince +Fortunatus.</p> + +<p>‘I will be good; oh, I will,’ said the baby +boy that had been the Magician.</p> + +<p>‘I’ll see to that,’ said the nurse. And so +the story ends with love and a wedding, and +showers of white roses.</p> + +</div> + + + +<hr class="pg" /> + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Magic World, by Edith Nesbit + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAGIC WORLD *** + +***** This file should be named 27903-h.htm or 27903-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/9/0/27903/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, David Wilson and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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