by E. Nesbit
CHAPTER XI
IT was show-day at Yalding Castle, and it seemed good to the children togo and visit Mabel, and, as Gerald put it, to mingle unsuspected withthe crowd; to gloat over all the things which they knew and which thecrowd didn't know about the castle and the sliding panels, the magicring and the statues that came alive. Perhaps one of the pleasantestthings about magic happenings is the feeling which they give you ofknowing what other people not only don't know but wouldn't, so to speak,believe if they did.
On the white road outside the gates of the castle was a dark spatteringof breaks and wagonettes and dog-carts. Three or four waiting motor-carspuffed fatly where they stood, and bicycles sprawled in heaps along thegrassy hollow by the red brick wall. And the people who had been broughtto the castle by the breaks and wagonettes, and dog-carts and bicyclesand motors, as well as those who had walked there on their own unaidedfeet, were scattered about the grounds, or being shown over those partsof the castle which were, on this one day of the week, thrown open tovisitors.
There were more visitors than usual to-day because it had somehow beenwhispered about that Lord Yalding was down, and that the holland coverswere to be taken off the state furniture, so that a rich American whowished to rent the castle, to live in, might see the place in all itsglory.
It certainly did look very splendid. The embroidered satin, gildedleather and tapestry of the chairs, which had been hidden by brownholland, gave to the rooms a pleasant air of being lived in. There wereflowering plants and pots of roses here and there on tables orwindow-ledges. Mabel's aunt prided herself on her tasteful touch in thehome, and had studied the arrangement of flowers in a series of articlesin _Home Drivel_ called "How to Make Home High-class on Ninepence aWeek."
The great crystal chandeliers, released from the bags that at ordinarytimes shrouded them, gleamed with grey and purple splendour. The brownlinen sheets had been taken off the state beds, and the red ropes thatusually kept the low crowd in its proper place had been rolled up andhidden away.
"It's exactly as if we were calling on the family," said the grocer'sdaughter from Salisbury to her friend who was in the millinery.
"If the Yankee doesn't take it, what do you say to you and me setting uphere when we get spliced?" the draper's assistant asked his sweetheart.And she said: "Oh, Reggie, how can you! you are _too_ funny."
All the afternoon the crowd in its smart holiday clothes, pink blouses,and light-coloured suits, flowery hats, and scarves beyond descriptionpassed through and through the dark hall, the magnificent drawing-roomsand boudoirs and picture-galleries. The chattering crowd was awed intosomething like quiet by the calm, stately bedchambers, where men hadbeen born, and died; where royal guests had lain in long-ago summernights, with big bow-pots of elder-flowers set on the hearth to ward offfever and evil spells. The terrace, where in old days dames in ruffs hadsniffed the sweetbrier and southernwood of the borders below, andladies, bright with rouge and powder and brocade, had walked in theswing of their hooped skirts--the terrace now echoed to the sound ofbrown boots, and the tap-tap of high-heeled shoes at two and eleventhree, and high laughter and chattering voices that said nothing thatthe children wanted to hear. These spoiled for them the quiet of theenchanted castle, and outraged the peace of the garden of enchantments.
"It isn't such a lark after all," Gerald admitted, as from the window ofthe stone summer-house at the end of the terrace they watched the loudcolours and heard the loud laughter. "I do hate to see all these peoplein _our_ garden."
"I said that to that nice bailiff-man this morning," said Mabel, settingherself on the stone floor, "and he said it wasn't much to let themcome once a week. He said Lord Yalding ought to let them come when theyliked--said he would if he lived there."
"That's all he knows!" said Jimmy. "Did he say anything else?"
"Lots," said Mabel. "I do like him! I told him----"
"You didn't!"
"Yes. I told him lots about our adventures. The humble bailiff is abeautiful listener."
"We shall be locked up for beautiful lunatics if you let your jaw getthe better of you, my Mabel child."
"Not us!" said Mabel. "I told it--you know the way--every word true, andyet so that nobody believes any of it. When I'd quite done he said I'dgot a real littery talent, and I promised to put his name on thebeginning of the first book I write when I grow up."
"You don't know his name," said Kathleen. "Let's do something with thering."
"Imposs!" said Gerald. "I forgot to tell you, but I met Mademoisellewhen I went back for my garters--and she's coming to meet us and walkback with us."
"What did you say?"
"I said," said Gerald deliberately, "that it was very kind of her. Andso it was. Us not wanting her doesn't make it not kind her coming----"
"It may be kind, but it's sickening too," said Mabel, "because now Isuppose we shall have to stick here and wait for her; and I promisedwe'd meet the bailiff-man. He's going to bring things in a basket andhave a picnic-tea with us."
"Where?"
"Beyond the dinosaurus. He said he'd tell me all about theanteddy-something animals--it means before Noah's Ark; there are lotsbesides the dinosaurus--in return for me telling him my agreeablefictions. Yes, he called them that."
"When?"
"As soon as the gates shut. That's five."
"We might take Mademoiselle along," suggested Gerald.
"She'd be too proud to have tea with a bailiff, I expect; you never knowhow grown-ups will take the simplest things." It was Kathleen who saidthis.
"Well, I'll tell you what," said Gerald, lazily turning on the stonebench. "You all go along, and meet your bailiff. A picnic's a picnic.And I'll wait for Mademoiselle."
Mabel remarked joyously that this was jolly decent of Gerald, to whichhe modestly replied: "Oh, rot!"
Jimmy added that Gerald rather liked sucking-up to people.
"Little boys don't understand diplomacy," said Gerald calmly;"sucking-up is simply silly. But it's better to be good than prettyand----"
"How do you know?" Jimmy asked.
"And," his brother went on, "you never know when a grown-up may come inuseful. Besides, they _like_ it. You must give them _some_ littlepleasures. Think how awful it must be to be old. My hat!"
"I hope _I_ shan't be an old maid," said Kathleen.
"I don't _mean_ to be," said Mabel briskly. "I'd rather marry atravelling tinker."
"It would be rather nice," Kathleen mused, "to marry the Gipsy King andgo about in a caravan telling fortunes and hung round with baskets andbrooms."
"Oh, if I could choose," said Mabel, "of course, I'd marry a brigand,and live in his mountain fastnesses, and be kind to his captives andhelp them to escape and----"
"You'll be a real treasure to your husband," said Gerald.
"Yes," said Kathleen, "or a sailor would be nice. You'd watch for hisship coming home and set the lamp in the dormer window to light him homethrough the storm; and when he was drowned at sea you'd be mostfrightfully sorry, and go every day to lay flowers on his daisiedgrave."
"Yes," Mabel hastened to say, "or a soldier, and then you'd go to thewars with short petticoats and a cocked hat and a barrel round your necklike a St. Bernard dog. There's a picture of a soldier's wife on a songauntie's got. It's called 'The Veevandyear.'"
"When I marry----" Kathleen quickly said.
"When _I_ marry," said Gerald, "I'll marry a dumb girl, or else get thering to make her so that she can't speak unless she's spoken to. Let'shave a squint."
He applied his eye to the stone lattice.
"They're moving off," he said. "Those pink and purple hats are noddingoff in the distant prospect; and the funny little man with the beardlike a goat is going a different way from every one else--the gardenerswill have to head him off. I don't see Mademoiselle, though. The rest ofyou had better bunk. It doesn't do to run any risks with picnics. Thedeserted hero of our tale, alone and unsupported, urged on his bravefollowers to pursue the commissariat waggons,
he himself remaining atthe post of danger and difficulty, because he was born to stand onburning decks whence all but he had fled, and to lead forlorn hopes whendespaired of by the human race!"
"I think I'll marry a dumb husband," said Mabel, "and there shan't beany heroes in my books when I write them, only a heroine. Come on,Cathy."
Coming out of that cool, shadowy summer-house into the sunshine was likestepping into an oven, and the stone of the terrace was burning to thechildren's feet.
"I know now what a cat on hot bricks feels like," said Jimmy.
The antediluvian animals are set in a beech-wood on a slope at leasthalf a mile across the park from the castle. The grandfather of thepresent Lord Yalding had them set there in the middle of last century,in the great days of the late Prince Consort, the Exhibition of 1851,Sir Joseph Paxton, and the Crystal Palace. Their stone flanks, theirwide, ungainly wings, their lozenged crocodile-like backs show greythrough the trees a long way off.
Most people think that noon is the hottest time of the day. They arewrong. A cloudless sky gets hotter and hotter all the afternoon, andreaches its very hottest at five. I am sure you must all have noticedthis when you are going out to tea anywhere in your best clothes,especially if your clothes are starched and you happen to have a ratherlong and shadeless walk.
Kathleen, Mabel, and Jimmy got hotter and hotter, and went more and moreslowly. They had almost reached that stage of resentment and discomfortwhen one "wishes one hadn't come" before they saw, below the edge of thebeech-wood, the white waved handkerchief of the bailiff.
That banner, eloquent of tea, shade, and being able to sit down, put newheart into them. They mended their pace, and a final desperate runlanded them among the drifted coppery leaves and bare grey and greenroots of the beech-wood.
"Oh, glory!" said Jimmy, throwing himself down. "How do you do?"
The bailiff looked very nice, the girls thought. He was not wearing hisvelveteens, but a grey flannel suit that an Earl need not have scorned;and his straw hat would have done no discredit to a Duke; and a Princecould not have worn a prettier green tie. He welcomed the childrenwarmly. And there were two baskets dumped heavy and promising among thebeech-leaves.
He was a man of tact. The hot, instructive tour of the stoneantediluvians, which had loomed with ever-lessening charm before thechildren, was not even mentioned.
"You must be desert-dry," he said, "and you'll be hungry, too, whenyou've done being thirsty. I put on the kettle as soon as I discernedthe form of my fair romancer in the extreme offing."
The kettle introduced itself with puffings and bubblings from the hollowbetween two grey roots where it sat on a spirit-lamp.
"Take off your shoes and stockings, won't you?" said the bailiff inmatter-of-course tones, just as old ladies ask each other to take offtheir bonnets; "there's a little baby canal just over the ridge."
The joys of dipping one's feet in cool running water after a hot walkhave yet to be described. I could write pages about them. There was amill-stream when I was young with little fishes in it, and droppedleaves that spun round, and willows and alders that leaned over it andkept it cool, and--but this is not the story of _my_ life.
THE JOYS OF DIPPING ONE'S FEET IN COOL RUNNING WATER.]
When they came back, on rested, damp, pink feet, tea was made and pouredout, delicious tea, with as much milk as ever you wanted, out of a beerbottle with a screw top, and cakes, and gingerbread, and plums, and abig melon with a lump of ice in its heart--a tea for the gods!
This thought must have come to Jimmy, for he said suddenly, removing hisface from inside a wide-bitten crescent of melon-rind:--
"Your feast's as good as the feast of the Immortals, almost."
"Explain your recondite allusion," said the grey-flanneled host; andJimmy, understanding him to say, "What do you mean?" replied with thewhole tale of that wonderful night when the statues came alive, and abanquet of unearthly splendour and deliciousness was plucked by marblehands from the trees of the lake island.
When he had done the bailiff said:--
"Did you get all this out of a book?"
"No," said Jimmy, "it happened."
"You are an imaginative set of young dreamers, aren't you?" the bailiffasked, handing the plums to Kathleen, who smiled, friendly butembarrassed. Why couldn't Jimmy have held his tongue?
"No, we're not," said that indiscreet one obstinately; "everything I'vetold you _did_ happen, and so did the things Mabel told you."
The bailiff looked a little uncomfortable. "All right, old chap," hesaid. And there was a short, uneasy silence.
"Look here," said Jimmy, who seemed for once to have got the bit betweenhis teeth, "do you believe me or not?"
"Don't be silly, Jimmy!" Kathleen whispered.
"Because, if you don't I'll _make_ you believe."
"Don't!" said Mabel and Kathleen together.
"Do you or don't you?" Jimmy insisted, lying on his front with his chinon his hands, his elbows on a moss-cushion, and his bare legs kickingamong the beech-leaves.
"I think you tell adventures awfully well," said the bailiff cautiously.
"Very well," said Jimmy, abruptly sitting up, "you don't believe me.Nonsense, Cathy! he's a gentleman, even if he is a bailiff."
"Thank you!" said the bailiff with eyes that twinkled.
"You won't tell, will you?" Jimmy urged.
"Tell what?"
"_Anything._"
"Certainly not. I am, as you say, the soul of honour."
"Then--Cathy, give me the ring."
"Oh, _no_!" said the girls together.
Kathleen did not mean to give up the ring; Mabel did not mean that sheshould; Jimmy certainly used no force. Yet presently he held it in hishand. It was his hour. There are times like that for all of us, whenwhat we say shall be done _is_ done.
"Now," said Jimmy, "this is the ring Mabel told you about. I say it is awishing-ring. And if you will put it on your hand and wish, whatever youwish will happen."
"Must I wish out loud?"
"Yes--I think so."
"Don't wish for anything silly," said Kathleen, making the best of thesituation, "like its being fine on Tuesday or its being your favouritepudding for dinner to-morrow. Wish for something you really want."
"I will," said the bailiff. "I'll wish for the only thing I really want.I wish my--I wish my friend were here."
The three who knew the power of the ring looked round to see thebailiff's friend appear; a surprised man that friend would be, theythought, and perhaps a frightened one. They had all risen, and stoodready to soothe and reassure the new-comer. But no startled gentlemanappeared in the wood, only, coming quietly through the dappled sun andshadow under the beech-trees, Mademoiselle and Gerald, Mademoiselle in awhite gown, looking quite nice and like a picture, Gerald hot andpolite.
"Good-afternoon," said that dauntless leader of forlorn hopes. "Ipersuaded Mademoiselle----"
That sentence was never finished, for the bailiff and the Frenchgoverness were looking at each other with the eyes of tired travellerswho find, quite without expecting it, the desired end of a very longjourney. And the children saw that even if they spoke it would not makeany difference.
"_You!_" said the bailiff.
"Mais ... c'est donc vous," said Mademoiselle, in a funny choky voice.
THEY STOOD STILL AND LOOKED AT EACH OTHER.]
And they stood still and looked at each other, "like stuck pigs," asJimmy said later, for quite a long time.
"Is _she_ your friend?" Jimmy asked.
"Yes--oh yes," said this bailiff. "You are my friend, are you not?"
"But yes," Mademoiselle said softly. "I am your friend."
"There! you see," said Jimmy, "the ring _does_ do what I said."
"We won't quarrel about that," said the bailiff. "You can say it's thering. For me--it's a coincidence--the happiest, the dearest----"
"Then you----?" said the French governess.
"Of course," said the bailiff. "Jim
my, give your brother some tea.Mademoiselle, come and walk in the woods: there are a thousand things tosay."
"Eat then, my Gerald," said Mademoiselle, now grown young, andastonishingly like a fairy princess. "I return all at the hour, and were-enter together. It is that we must speak each other. It is long timethat we have not seen us, me and Lord Yalding!"
"So he was Lord Yalding all the time," said Jimmy, breaking a stupefiedsilence as the white gown and the grey flannels disappeared among thebeech-trunks. "Landscape painter sort of dodge--silly, I call it. Andfancy her being a friend of his, and his wishing she was here! Differentfrom us, eh? Good old ring!"
"His friend!" said Mabel with strong scorn: "don't you see she's hislover? Don't you see she's the lady that was bricked up in the convent,because he was so poor, and he couldn't find her. And now the ring'smade them live happy ever after. I _am_ glad! Aren't you, Cathy?"
"Rather!" said Kathleen; "it's as good as marrying a sailor or abandit."
"It's the ring did it," said Jimmy. "If the American takes the househe'll pay lots of rent, and they can live on that."
"I wonder if they'll be married to-morrow!" said Mabel.
"Wouldn't it be fun if we were bridesmaids," said Cathy.
"May I trouble you for the melon," said Gerald. "Thanks! Why didn't weknow he was Lord Yalding? Apes and moles that we were!"
"_I've_ known since last night," said Mabel calmly; "only I promised notto tell. I _can_ keep a secret, can't I?"
"Too jolly well," said Kathleen, a little aggrieved.
"He was disguised as a bailiff," said Jimmy; "that's why we didn'tknow."
"Disguised as a fiddle-stick-end," said Gerald. "Ha, ha! I see somethingold Sherlock Holmes never saw, nor that idiot Watson, either. If youwant a really impenetrable disguise, you ought to disguise yourself aswhat you really are. I'll remember that."
"It's like Mabel, telling things so that you can't believe them," saidCathy.
"I think Mademoiselle's jolly lucky," said Mabel.
"She's not so bad. He might have done worse," said Gerald. "Plums,please!"
* * * * *
There was quite plainly magic at work. Mademoiselle next morning was achanged governess. Her cheeks were pink, her lips were red, her eyeswere larger and brighter, and she had done her hair in an entirely newway, rather frivolous and very becoming.
"Mamselle's coming out!" Eliza remarked.
Immediately after breakfast Lord Yalding called with a wagonette thatwore a smart blue cloth coat, and was drawn by two horses whose coatswere brown and shining and fitted them even better than the blue clothcoat fitted the wagonette, and the whole party drove in state andsplendour to Yalding Towers.
Arrived there, the children clamoured for permission to explore thecastle thoroughly, a thing that had never yet been possible. LordYalding, a little absent in manner, but yet quite cordial, consented.Mabel showed the others all the secret doors and unlikely passages andstairs that she had discovered. It was a glorious morning. Lord Yaldingand Mademoiselle went through the house, it is true, but in a ratherhalf-hearted way. Quite soon they were tired, and went out through theFrench windows of the drawing-room and through the rose garden, to siton the curved stone seat in the middle of the maze, where once, at thebeginning of things, Gerald, Kathleen, and Jimmy had found the sleepingPrincess who wore pink silk and diamonds.
The children felt that their going left to the castle a more spaciousfreedom, and explored with more than Arctic enthusiasm. It was as theyemerged from the little rickety secret staircase that led from thepowdering-room of the state suite to the gallery of the hall that theycame suddenly face to face with the odd little man who had a beard likea goat and had taken the wrong turning yesterday.
"This part of the castle is private," said Mabel, with great presence ofmind, and shut the door behind her.
"I am aware of it," said the goat-faced stranger, "but I have thepermission of the Earl of Yalding to examine the house _at_ my leisure."
"Oh!" said Mabel. "I beg your pardon. We all do. We didn't know."
"You are relatives of his lordship, I should surmise?" asked thegoat-faced.
"Not exactly," said Gerald. "Friends."
The gentleman was thin and very neatly dressed; he had small, merry eyesand a face that was brown and dry-looking.
"You are playing some game, I should suppose?"
"No, sir," said Gerald, "only exploring."
"May a stranger propose himself as a member of your ExploringExpedition?" asked the gentleman, smiling a tight but kind smile.
The children looked at each other.
"You see," said Gerald, "it's rather difficult to explain--but--you seewhat I mean, don't you?"
"He means," said Jimmy, "that we can't take you into an exploring partywithout we know what you want to go for."
"Are you a photographer?" asked Mabel, "or is it some newspaper's sentyou to write about the Towers?"
"I understand your position," said the gentleman. "I am not aphotographer, nor am I engaged by any journal. I am a man of independentmeans, travelling in this country with the intention of renting aresidence. My name is Jefferson D. Conway."
"Oh!" said Mabel; "then you're the American millionaire."
"I do not like the description, young lady," said Mr. Jefferson D.Conway. "I am an American citizen, and I am not without means. This is afine property--a very fine property. If it were for sale----"
"It isn't, it can't be," Mabel hastened to explain. "The lawyers haveput it in a tale, so Lord Yalding can't sell it. But you could take itto live in, and pay Lord Yalding a good millionairish rent, and then hecould marry the French governess----"
"Shish!" said Kathleen and Mr. Jefferson D. Conway together, and headded:--
"Lead the way, please; and I should suggest that the exploration becomplete and exhaustive."
Thus encouraged, Mabel led the millionaire through all the castle. Heseemed pleased, yet disappointed too.
"It is a fine mansion," he said at last when they had come back to thepoint from which they had started; "but I should suppose, in a housethis size, there would mostly be a secret stairway, or a priests' hidingplace, or a ghost?"
"There are," said Mabel briefly, "but I thought Americans didn't believein anything but machinery and newspapers." She touched the spring of thepanel behind her, and displayed the little tottery staircase to theAmerican. The sight of it worked a wonderful transformation in him. Hebecame eager, alert, very keen.
"Say!" he cried, over and over again, standing in the door that led fromthe powdering-room to the state bed-chamber. "But this is great--great!"
The hopes of every one ran high. It seemed almost certain that thecastle would be let for a millionairish rent and Lord Yalding be madeaffluent to the point of marriage.
"If there were a ghost located in this ancestral pile, I'd close withthe Earl of Yalding to-day, now, on the nail," Mr. Jefferson D. Conwaywent on.
"If you were to stay till to-morrow, and sleep in this room, I expectyou'd see the ghost," said Mabel.
"There _is_ a ghost located here then?" he said joyously.
HE BECAME EAGER, ALERT, VERY KEEN.]
"They say," Mabel answered, "that old Sir Rupert, who lost his head inHenry the Eighth's time, walks of a night here, with his head under hisarm. But we've not seen that. What we have seen is the lady in a pinkdress with diamonds in her hair. She carries a lighted taper," Mabelhastily added. The others, now suddenly aware of Mabel's plan, hastenedto assure the American in accents of earnest truth that they had allseen the lady with the pink gown.
He looked at them with half-closed eyes that twinkled.
"Well," he said, "I calculate to ask the Earl of Yalding to permit me topass a night in his ancestral best bed-chamber. And if I hear so much asa phantom footstep, or hear so much as a ghostly sigh, I'll take theplace."
"I _am_ glad!" said Cathy.
"You appear to be very certain of your ghost," said the Am
erican, stillfixing them with little eyes that shone. "Let me tell you, younggentlemen, that I carry a gun, and when I see a ghost, I shoot."
He pulled a pistol out of his hip-pocket, and looked at it lovingly.
"And I am a fair average shot," he went on, walking across the shinyfloor of the state bed-chamber to the open window. "See that big redrose, like a tea-saucer?"
They saw.
The next moment a loud report broke the stillness, and the red petals ofthe shattered rose strewed balustrade and terrace.
The American looked from one child to another. Every face was perfectlywhite.
"Jefferson D. Conway made his little pile by strict attention tobusiness, and keeping his eyes skinned," he added. "Thank you for allyour kindness."
* * * * *
"Suppose you'd done it, and he'd shot you!" said Jimmy cheerfully. "That_would_ have been an adventure, wouldn't it?"
"I'm going to do it still," said Mabel, pale and defiant. "Let's findLord Yalding and get the ring back."
Lord Yalding had had an interview with Mabel's aunt, and lunch for sixwas laid in the great dark hall, among the armour and the oakfurniture--a beautiful lunch served on silver dishes. Mademoiselle,becoming every moment younger and more like a Princess, was moved totears when Gerald rose, lemonade-glass in hand, and proposed the healthof "Lord and Lady Yalding."
When Lord Yalding had returned thanks in a speech full of agreeablejokes the moment seemed to Gerald propitious, and he said:--
"The ring, you know--you don't believe in it, but we do. May we have itback?"
And got it.
Then, after a hasty council, held in the panelled jewel-room, Mabelsaid: "This is a wishing-ring, and I wish all the American's weapons ofall sorts were here."
Instantly the room was full--six feet up the wall--of a tangle and massof weapons, swords, spears, arrows, tomahawks, fowling pieces,blunderbusses, pistols, revolvers, scimitars, kreeses--every kind ofweapon you can think of--and the four children wedged in among all theseweapons of death hardly dared to breathe.
"He collects arms, I expect," said Gerald, "and the arrows are poisoned,I shouldn't wonder. Wish them back where they came from, Mabel, forgoodness' sake, and try again."
Mabel wished the weapons away, and at once the four children stood safein a bare panelled room. But--
"No," Mabel said, "I can't stand it. We'll work the ghost another way. Iwish the American may think he sees a ghost when he goes to bed. SirRupert with his head under his arm will do."
"Is it to-night he sleeps there?"
"I don't know. I wish he may see Sir Rupert every night--that'll make itall serene."
"It's rather dull," said Gerald; "we shan't know whether he's seen SirRupert or not."
"We shall know in the morning, when he takes the house."
This being settled, Mabel's aunt was found to be desirous of Mabel'scompany, so the others went home.
It was when they were at supper that Lord Yalding suddenly appeared, andsaid:--
"Mr. Jefferson Conway wants you boys to spend the night with him in thestate chamber. I've had beds put up. You don't mind, do you? He seemsto think you've got some idea of playing ghost-tricks on him."
It was difficult to refuse, so difficult that it proved impossible.
Ten o'clock found the boys each in a narrow white bed that looked quiteabsurdly small in that high, dark chamber, and in face of that tallgaunt four-poster hung with tapestry and ornamented withfunereal-looking plumes.
"I hope to goodness there isn't a _real_ ghost," Jimmy whispered.
"Not likely," Gerald whispered back.
"But I don't want to see Sir Rupert's ghost with its head under itsarm," Jimmy insisted.
"You won't. The most you'll see'll be the millionaire seeing it. Mabelsaid he was to see it, not us. Very likely you'll sleep all night andnot see anything. Shut your eyes and count up to a million and don't bea goat!"
But he was reckoning without Mabel and the ring. As soon as Mabel hadlearned from her drab-haired aunt that this was indeed the night whenMr. Jefferson D. Conway would sleep at the castle she had hastened toadd a wish, "that Sir Rupert and his head may appear to-night in thestate bedroom."
Jimmy shut his eyes and began to count a million. Before he had countedit he fell asleep. So did his brother.
They were awakened by the loud echoing bang of a pistol shot. Eachthought of the shot that had been fired that morning, and opened eyesthat expected to see a sunshiny terrace and red-rose petals strewn uponwarm white stone.
Instead, there was the dark, lofty state chamber, lighted but little bysix tall candles; there was the American in shirt and trousers, asmoking pistol in his hand; and there, advancing from the door of thepowdering-room, a figure in doublet and hose, a ruff round its neck--andno head! The head, sure enough, was there; but it was under the rightarm, held close in the slashed-velvet sleeve of the doublet. The facelooking from under the arm wore a pleasant smile. Both boys, I am sorryto say, screamed. The American fired again. The bullet passed throughSir Rupert, who advanced without appearing to notice it.
Then, suddenly, the lights went out. The next thing the boys knew it wasmorning. A grey daylight shone blankly through the tall windows--andwild rain was beating upon the glass, and the American was gone.
"Where are we?" said Jimmy, sitting up with tangled hair and lookinground him. "Oh, I remember. Ugh! it was horrid. I'm about fed up withthat ring, so I don't mind telling you."
THE AMERICAN FIRED AGAIN.]
"Nonsense!" said Gerald. "I enjoyed it. I wasn't a bit frightened, wereyou?"
"No," said Jimmy, "of course I wasn't."
* * * * *
"We've done the trick," said Gerald later when they learned that theAmerican had breakfasted early with Lord Yalding and taken the firsttrain to London; "he's gone to get rid of his other house, and takethis one. The old ring's beginning to do really useful things."
* * * * *
"Perhaps you'll believe in the ring now," said Jimmy to Lord Yalding,whom he met later on in the picture-gallery; "it's all our doing thatMr. Jefferson saw the ghost. He told us he'd take the house if he saw aghost, so of course we took care he did see one."
"Oh, you did, did you?" said Lord Yalding in rather an odd voice. "I'mvery much obliged, I'm sure."
"Don't mention it," said Jimmy kindly. "I thought you'd be pleased andhim too."
"Perhaps you'll be interested to learn," said Lord Yalding, putting hishands in his pockets and staring down at Jimmy, "that Mr. Jefferson D.Conway was so pleased with your ghost that he got me out of bed at sixo'clock this morning to talk about it."
"Oh, ripping!" said Jimmy. "What did he say?"
"He said, as far as I can remember," said Lord Yalding, still in thesame strange voice--"he said: 'My lord, your ancestral pile is A1. Itis, in fact, The Limit. Its luxury is palatial, its grounds are nothingshort of Edenesque. No expense has been spared, I should surmise. Yourancestors were whole-hoggers. They have done the thing as it should bedone--every detail attended to. I like your tapestry, and I like youroak, and I like your secret stairs. But I think your ancestors shouldhave left well enough alone, and stopped at that.' So I said they had,as far as I knew, and he shook his head and said:--
"'No, sir. Your ancestors take the air of a night with their heads undertheir arms. A ghost that sighed or glided or rustled I could have stood,and thanked you for it, and considered it in the rent. But a ghost thatbullets go through while it stands grinning with a bare neck and itshead loose under its own arm and little boys screaming and fainting intheir beds--no! What I say is, If this is a British hereditaryhigh-toned family ghost, excuse Me!' And he went off by the earlytrain."
"I say," the stricken Jimmy remarked, "I _am_ sorry, and I don't thinkwe did faint, really I don't--but we thought it would be just what youwanted. And perhaps some one else will take the house."
"I don't kn
ow any one else rich enough," said Lord Yalding. "Mr. Conwaycame the day before he said he would, or you'd never have got hold ofhim. And I don't know how you did it, and I don't want to know. It was arather silly trick."
There was a gloomy pause. The rain beat against the long windows.
"I say"--Jimmy looked up at Lord Yalding with the light of a new idea inhis round face. "I say, if you're hard up, why don't you sell yourjewels?"
"I haven't any jewels, you meddlesome young duffer," said Lord Yaldingquite crossly; and taking his hands out of his pockets, he began towalk away.
"I mean the ones in the panelled room with the stars in the ceiling,"Jimmy insisted, following him.
"There aren't any," said Lord Yalding shortly; "and if this is some morering-nonsense I advise you to be careful, young man. I've had about asmuch as I care for."
"It's _not_ ring-nonsense," said Jimmy: "there are shelves and shelvesof beautiful family jewels. You can sell them and----"
"Oh, _no_!" cried Mademoiselle, appearing like an oleograph of a duchessin the door of the picture-gallery; "don't sell the family jewels----"
"There aren't any, my lady," said Lord Yalding, going towards her. "Ithought you were never coming."
"Oh, aren't there!" said Mabel, who had followed Mademoiselle. "You justcome and see."
"Let us see what they will to show us," cried Mademoiselle, for LordYalding did not move; "it should at least be amusing."
"It is," said Jimmy.
So they went, Mabel and Jimmy leading, while Mademoiselle and LordYalding followed, hand in hand.
"It's much safer to walk hand in hand," said Lord Yalding; "with thesechildren at large one never knows what may happen next."
CHAPTER XII
IT would be interesting, no doubt, to describe the feelings of LordYalding as he followed Mabel and Jimmy through his ancestral halls, butI have no means of knowing at all what he felt. Yet one must supposethat he felt something: bewilderment, perhaps, mixed with a faintwonder, and a desire to pinch himself to see if he were dreaming. Or hemay have pondered the rival questions, "Am I mad?" "Are they mad?"without being at all able to decide which he ought to try to answer, letalone deciding what, in either case, the answer ought to be. You see,the children did seem to believe in the odd stories they told--and thewish _had_ come true, and the ghost _had_ appeared. He must havethought--but all this is vain; I don't _really_ know what he thought anymore than you do.
Nor can I give you any clue to the thoughts and feelings ofMademoiselle. I only know that she was very happy, but any one wouldhave known that if they had seen her face. Perhaps this is as good amoment as any to explain that when her guardian had put her in a conventso that she should not sacrifice her fortune by marrying a poor lord,her guardian had secured that fortune (to himself) by going off with itto South America. Then, having no money left, Mademoiselle had to workfor it. So she went out as governess, and took the situation she didtake because it was near Lord Yalding's home. She wanted to see him,even though she thought he had forsaken her and did not love her anymore. And now she had seen him. I daresay she thought about some ofthese things as she went along through his house, her hand held in his.But of course I can't be sure.
Jimmy's thoughts, of course, I can read like any old book. He thought,"Now he'll _have_ to believe me." That Lord Yalding should believe himhad become, quite unreasonably, the most important thing in the world toJimmy. He wished that Gerald and Kathleen were there to share histriumph, but they were helping Mabel's aunt to cover the grand furnitureup, and so were out of what followed. Not that they missed much, forwhen Mabel proudly said, "Now you'll see," and the others came closeround her in the little panelled room, there was a pause, andthen--nothing happened at all!
"There's a secret spring here somewhere," said Mabel, fumbling withfingers that had suddenly grown hot and damp.
"Where?" said Lord Yalding.
"_Here_," said Mabel impatiently, "only I can't find it."
And she couldn't. She found the spring of the secret panel under thewindow all right, but that seemed to every one dull compared with thejewels that every one had pictured and two at least had seen. But thespring that made the oak panelling slide away and displayed jewelsplainly to any eye worth a king's ransom--this could not be found.More, it was simply not there. There could be no doubt of that. Everyinch of the panelling was felt by careful fingers. The earnest protestsof Mabel and Jimmy died away presently in a silence made painful by thehotness of one's ears, the discomfort of not liking to meet any one'seyes, and the resentful feeling that the spring was not behaving in atall a sportsmanlike way, and that, in a word, this was not cricket.
"You see!" said Lord Yalding severely. "Now you've had your joke, if youcall it a joke, and I've had enough of the whole silly business. Give methe ring--it's mine, I suppose, since you say you found it somewherehere--and don't let's hear another word about all this rubbish of magicand enchantment."
"Gerald's got the ring," said Mabel miserably.
"Then go and fetch him," said Lord Yalding--"both of you."
The melancholy pair retired, and Lord Yalding spent the time of theirabsence in explaining to Mademoiselle how very unimportant jewels werecompared with other things.
The four children came back together.
"We've had enough of this ring business," said Lord Yalding. "Give it tome, and we'll say no more about it."
"I--I can't get it off," said Gerald. "It--it always did have a will ofits own."
"I'll soon get it off," said Lord Yalding. But he didn't. "We'll trysoap," he said firmly. Four out of his five hearers knew just exactlyhow much use soap would be.
"They won't believe about the jewels," wailed Mabel, suddenly dissolvedin tears, "and I can't find the spring. I've felt all over--we allhave--it was just here, and----"
Her fingers felt it just as she spoke; and as she ceased to speak thecarved panels slid away, and the blue velvet shelves laden with jewelswere disclosed to the unbelieving eyes of Lord Yalding and the lady whowas to be his wife.
"Jove!" said Lord Yalding.
"_Misericorde!_" said the lady.
"But why _now_?" gasped Mabel. "Why not before?"
"I expect it's magic," said Gerald. "There's no real spring here, and itcouldn't act because the ring wasn't here. You know Phoebus told usthe ring was the heart of all the magic."
"Shut it up and take the ring away and see."
They did, and Gerald was (as usual, he himself pointed out) proved to beright. When the ring was away there was no spring; when the ring was inthe room there (as Mabel urged) was the spring all right enough.
"So you see," said Mabel to Lord Yalding.
"I see that the spring's very artfully concealed," said that dense peer."I think it was very clever indeed of you to find it. And if thosejewels are real----"
"Of course they're real," said Mabel indignantly.
"Well, anyway," said Lord Yalding, "thank you all very much. I thinkit's clearing up. I'll send the wagonette home with you after lunch. Andif you don't mind, I'll have the ring."
Half an hour of soap and water produced no effect whatever, except tomake the finger of Gerald very red and very sore. Then Lord Yalding saidsomething very impatient indeed, and then Gerald suddenly became angryand said: "Well, I'm sure I wish it would come off," and of courseinstantly, "slick as butter," as he later pointed out, off it came.
"Thank you," said Lord Yalding.
"And I believe now he thinks I kept it on on purpose," said Geraldafterwards when, at ease on the leads at home, they talked the wholething out over a tin of preserved pineapple and a bottle of gingerbeerapiece. "There's no pleasing some people. He wasn't in such a fieryhurry to order that wagonette after he found that Mademoiselle meant togo when we did. But I liked him better when he was a humble bailiff.Take him for all in all, he does not look as if we should like himagain."
"He doesn't know what's the matter with him," said Kathleen, leaningback against the tiled roof; "it's rea
lly the magic--it's like sickeningwith measles. Don't you remember how cross Mabel was at first about theinvisibleness?"
"Rather!" said Jimmy.
"It's partly that," said Gerald, trying to be fair, "and partly it's thebeing in love. It always makes people like idiots--a chap at school toldme. His sister was like that--quite rotten, you know. And she used to bequite a decent sort before she was engaged."
At tea and at supper Mademoiselle was radiant--as attractive as a ladyon a Christmas card, as merry as a marmoset, and as kind as you wouldalways be yourself if you could take the trouble. At breakfast, an equalradiance, kindness, attraction, merriment. Then Lord Yalding came to seeher. The meeting took place in the drawing-room: the children with deepdiscreetness remained shut in the schoolroom till Gerald, going up tohis room for a pencil, surprised Eliza with her ear glued to thedrawing-room key-hole.
After that Gerald sat on the top stair with a book. He could not hearany of the conversation in the drawing-room, but he could command a viewof the door, and in this way be certain that no one else heard any ofit. Thus it was that when the drawing-room door opened Gerald was in aposition to see Lord Yalding come out. "Our young hero," as he saidlater, "coughed with infinite tact to show that he was there," but LordYalding did not seem to notice. He walked in a blind sort of way to thehat-stand, fumbled clumsily with the umbrellas and mackintoshes, foundhis straw hat and looked at it gloomily, crammed it on his head and wentout, banging the door behind him in the most reckless way.
He left the drawing-room door open, and Gerald, though he had purposelyput himself in a position where one could hear nothing from thedrawing-room when the door was shut, could hear something quite plainlynow that the door was open. That something, he noticed with deepdistress and disgust, was the sound of sobs and sniffs. Mademoisellewas quite certainly crying.
"Jimminy!" he remarked to himself, "they haven't lost much time. Fancytheir beginning to quarrel _already_! I hope I'll never have to beanybody's lover."
But this was no time to brood on the terrors of his own future. Elizamight at any time occur. She would not for a moment hesitate to gothrough that open door, and push herself into the very secret sacredheart of Mademoiselle's grief. It seemed to Gerald better that he shouldbe the one to do this. So he went softly down the worn green Dutchcarpet of the stairs and into the drawing-room, shutting the door softlyand securely behind him.
= = = = =
"It is all over," Mademoiselle was saying, her face buried in the beadyarum-lilies on a red ground worked for a cushion cover by a formerpupil: "he will not marry me!"
Do not ask me how Gerald had gained the lady's confidence. He had, as Ithink I said almost at the beginning, very pretty ways with grown-ups,when he chose. Anyway, he was holding her hand, almost as affectionatelyas if she had been his mother with a headache, and saying "Don't!" and"Don't cry!" and "It'll be all right, you see if it isn't" in the mostcomforting way you can imagine, varying the treatment with gentle thumpson the back and entreaties to her to tell him all about it.
This wasn't mere curiosity, as you might think. The entreaties wereprompted by Gerald's growing certainty that whatever was the matter wassomehow the fault of that ring. And in this Gerald was ("once more," ashe told himself) right.
The tale, as told by Mademoiselle, was certainly an unusual one. LordYalding, last night after dinner, had walked in the park "to thinkof----"
"Yes, I know," said Gerald; "and he had the ring on. And he saw----"
"He saw the monuments become alive," sobbed Mademoiselle: "his brain wastroubled by the ridiculous accounts of fairies that you tell him. Hesees Apollon and Aphrodite alive on their marble. He remembers him ofyour story. He wish himself a statue. Then he becomes mad--imagines tohimself that your story of the island is true, plunges in the lake,swims among the beasts of the Ark of Noe, feeds with gods on an island.At dawn the madness become less. He think the Pantheon vanish. But him,no--he thinks himself statue, hiding from gardeners in his garden tillnine less a quarter. Then he thinks to wish himself no more a statue andperceives that he is flesh and blood. A bad dream, but he has lost thehead with the tales you tell. He say it is no dream but he isfool--mad--how you say? And a mad man must not marry. There is no hope.I am at despair! And the life is vain!"
"There _is_," said Gerald earnestly. "I assure you there is--hope, Imean. And life's as right as rain really. And there's nothing to despairabout. He's _not_ mad, and it's _not_ a dream. It's magic. It really andtruly is."
"The magic exists not," Mademoiselle moaned; "it is that he is mad. Itis the joy to re-see me after so many days. Oh, la-la-la-la-la!"
"Did he talk to the gods?" Gerald asked gently.
"It is there the most mad of all his ideas. He say that Mercure give himrendezvous at some temple to-morrow when the moon raise herself."
"Right," cried Gerald, "righto! Dear nice, kind, pretty MademoiselleRapunzel, don't be a silly little duffer"--he lost himself for a momentamong the consoling endearments he was accustomed to offer to Kathleenin moments of grief and emotion, but hastily added: "I mean, do not be alady who weeps causelessly. To-morrow he will go to that temple. I willgo. Thou shalt go--he will go. We will go--you will go--let 'em all go!And, you see, it's going to be absolutely all right. He'll see he isn'tmad, and you'll understand all about everything. Take my handkerchief,its quite a clean one as it happens; I haven't even unfolded it. Oh! dostop crying, there's a dear, darling, long-lost lover."
This flood of eloquence was not without effect. She took hishandkerchief, sobbed, half smiled, dabbed at her eyes, and said: "Oh,naughty! Is it some trick you play him, like the ghost?"
"I can't explain," said Gerald, "but I give you my word of honour--youknow what an Englishman's word of honour is, don't you? even if you_are_ French--that everything is going to be exactly what you wish. I'venever told you a lie. Believe me!"
"It is curious," said she, drying her eyes, "but I do." And once again,so suddenly that he could not have resisted, she kissed him. I think,however, that in this her hour of sorrow he would have thought it meanto resist.
"It pleases her and it doesn't hurt me--much," would have been histhought.
* * * * *
And now it is near moonrise. The French governess, half-doubting, halfhoping, but wholly longing to be near Lord Yalding even if he be as madas a March hare, and the four children--they have collected Mabel by anurgent letter-card posted the day before--are going over the dewy grass.The moon has not yet risen, but her light is in the sky mixed with thepink and purple of the sunset. The west is heavy with ink-clouds andrich colour, but the east, where the moon rises, is clear as arock-pool.
They go across the lawn and through the beech-wood and come at last,through a tangle of underwood and bramble, to a little level tablelandthat rises out of the flat hill-top--one tableland out of another. Hereis the ring of vast rugged stones, one pierced with a curious roundhole, worn smooth at its edges. In the middle of the circle is a greatflat stone, alone, desolate, full of meaning--a stone that is coveredthick with the memory of old faiths and creeds long since forgotten.Something dark moves in the circle. The French girl breaks from thechildren, goes to it, clings to its arm. It is Lord Yalding, and he istelling her to go.
"Never of the life!" she cries. "If you are mad I am mad too, for Ibelieve the tale these children tell. And I am here to be with thee andsee with thee--whatever the rising moon shall show us."
The children, holding hands by the flat stone, more moved by the magicin the girl's voice than by any magic of enchanted rings, listen, tryingnot to listen.
"Are you not afraid?" Lord Yalding is saying.
"Afraid? With you?" she laughs. He put his arm round her. The childrenhear her sigh.
"Are you afraid," he says, "my darling?"
Gerald goes across the wide turf ring expressly to say:--
"You can't be afraid if you are wearing the ring. And I'm sorry, but wecan hear every word you say."
&n
bsp; She laughs again. "It makes nothing," she says; "you know already if welove each other."
Then he puts the ring on her finger, and they stand together. The whiteof his flannel coat sleeve marks no line on the white of her dress; theystand as though cut out of one block of marble.
Then a faint greyness touches the top of that round hole, creeps up theside. Then the hole is a disc of light--a moonbeam strikes straightthrough it across the grey green of the circle that the stones mark, andas the moon rises the moonbeam slants downward. The children have drawnback till they stand close to the lovers. The moonbeam slants more andmore; now it touches the far end of the stone, now it draws nearer andnearer to the middle of it, now at last it touches the very heart andcentre of that central stone. And then it is as though a spring weretouched, a fountain of light released. Everything changes. Or, rather,everything is revealed. There are no more secrets. The plan of the worldseems plain, like an easy sum that one writes in big figures on achild's slate. One wonders how one can ever have wondered aboutanything. Space is not; every place that one has seen or dreamed of ishere. Time is not; into this instant is crowded all that one has everdone or dreamed of doing. It is a moment, and it is eternity. It is thecentre of the universe and it is the universe itself. The eternal lightrests on and illuminates the eternal heart of things.
* * * * *
None of the six human beings who saw that moon-rising were ever able tothink about it as having anything to do with time. Only for one instantcould that moonray have rested full on the centre of that stone. And yetthere was time for many happenings.
From that height one could see far out over the quiet park and sleepinggardens, and through the grey green of them shapes moved, approaching.
The great beasts came first, strange forms that were when the world wasnew--gigantic lizards with wings--dragons they lived as in men'smemories--mammoths, strange vast birds, they crawled up the hill andranged themselves outside the circle. Then, not from the garden butfrom very far away, came the stone gods of Egypt and Assyria--bull-bodied,bird-winged, hawk-headed, cat-headed, all in stone, and all alive andalert; strange, grotesque figures from the towers of cathedrals--figuresof angels with folded wings, figures of beasts with wings wide spread;sphinxes; uncouth idols from Southern palm-fringed islands; and, last ofall, the beautiful marble shapes of the gods and goddesses who had heldtheir festival on the lake-island, and bidden Lord Yalding and thechildren to this meeting.
Not a word was spoken. Each stone shape came gladly and quietly into thecircle of light and understanding, as children, tired with a longramble, creep quietly through the open door into the firelit welcome ofhome.
The children had thought to ask many questions. And it had been promisedthat the questions should be answered. Yet now no one spoke a word,because all had come into the circle of the real magic where all thingsare understood without speech.
Afterwards none of them could ever remember at all what had happened.But they never forgot that they had been somewhere where everything waseasy and beautiful. And people who can remember even that much are neverquite the same again. And when they came to talk of it next day theyfound that to each some little part of that night's great enlightenmentwas left.
All the stone creatures drew closer round the stone--the light where themoonbeam struck it seemed to break away in spray such as water makeswhen it falls from a height. All the crowd was bathed in whiteness. Adeep hush lay over the vast assembly.
Then a wave of intention swept over the mighty crowd. All the faces,bird, beast, Greek statue, Babylonian monster, human child and humanlover, turned upward, the radiant light illumined them and one wordbroke from all.
"The light!" they cried, and the sound of their voice was like the soundof a great wave; "the light! the light----"
And then the light was not any more, and, soft as floating thistle-down,sleep was laid on the eyes of all but the immortals.
* * * * *
The grass was chill and dewy and the clouds had veiled the moon. Thelovers and the children were standing together, all clinging close, notfor fear, but for love.
"I want," said the French girl softly, "to go to the cave on theisland."
Very quietly through the gentle brooding night they went down to theboat-house, loosed the clanking chain, and dipped oars among the drownedstars and lilies. They came to the island, and found the steps.
"I brought candles," said Gerald, "in case."
So, lighted by Gerald's candles, they went down into the Hall of Psyche!and there glowed the light spread from her statue, and all was as thechildren had seen it before.
It is the Hall of Granted Wishes.
"The ring," said Lord Yalding.
"The ring," said his lover, "is the magic ring given long ago to amortal, and it is what you say it is. It was given to your ancestor by alady of my house that he might build her a garden and a house like herown palace and garden in her own land. So that this place is builtpartly by his love and partly by that magic. She never lived to see it;that was the price of the magic."
It must have been English that she spoke, for otherwise how could thechildren have understood her? Yet the words were not like Mademoiselle'sway of speaking.
"Except from children," her voice went on, "the ring exacts a payment.You paid for me, when I came by your wish, by this terror of madnessthat you have since known. Only one wish is free."
"And that wish is----?"
"The last," she said. "Shall I wish?"
"Yes--wish," they said, all of them.
"I wish, then," said Lord Yalding's lover, "that all the magic this ringhas wrought may be undone, and that the ring itself may be no more andno less than a charm to bind thee and me together for evermore."
She ceased. And as she ceased the enchanted light died away, the windowsof granted wishes went out, like magic-lantern pictures. Gerald's candlefaintly lighted a rudely arched cave, and where Psyche's statue had beenwas a stone with something carved on it.
Gerald held the light low.
"It is her grave," the girl said.
= = = = =
Next day no one could remember anything at all exactly. But a good manythings were changed. There was no ring but the plain gold ring thatMademoiselle found clasped in her hand when she woke in her own bed inthe morning. More than half the jewels in the panelled room were gone,and those that remained had no panelling to cover them; they just laybare on the velvet-covered shelves. There was no passage at the back ofthe Temple of Flora. Quite a lot of the secret passages and hidden roomshad disappeared. And there were not nearly so many statues in the gardenas everyone had supposed. And large pieces of the castle were missingand had to be replaced at great expense. From which we may conclude thatLord Yalding's ancestor had used the ring a good deal to help him in hisbuilding.
However, the jewels that were left were quite enough to pay foreverything.
The suddenness with which all the ring-magic was undone was such a shockto everyone concerned that they now almost doubt that any magic everhappened.
But it is certain that Lord Yalding married the French governess andthat a plain gold ring was used in the ceremony, and this, if you cometo think of it, could be no other than the magic ring, turned, by thatlast wish, into a charm to keep him and his wife together for ever.
Also, if all this story is nonsense and a make-up--if Gerald and Jimmyand Kathleen and Mabel have merely imposed on my trusting nature by apack of unlikely inventions, how do you account for the paragraph whichappeared in the evening papers the day after the magic of themoon-rising?
"MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF A WELL-KNOWN CITY MAN,"
it said, and then went on to say how a gentleman, well known and muchrespected in financial circles, had vanished, leaving no trace.
"Mr. U. W. Ugli," the papers continued, "had remained late, working at his office as was his occasional ha
bit. The office door was found locked, and on its being broken open the clothes of the unfortunate gentleman were found in a heap on the floor, together with an umbrella, a walking stick, a golf club, and, curiously enough, a feather brush, such as housemaids use for dusting. Of his body, however, there was no trace. The police are stated to have a clue."
If they have, they have kept it to themselves. But I do not think theycan have a clue, because, of course, that respected gentleman was theUgly-Wugly who became real when, in search of a really good hotel, hegot into the Hall of Granted Wishes. And if none of this story everhappened, how is it that those four children are such friends with Lordand Lady Yalding, and stay at The Towers almost every holidays?
It is all very well for all of them to pretend that the whole of thisstory is my own invention: facts are facts, and you can't explain themaway.
UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Varied hyphenation was retained, for example: hearthrug and hearth-rug.This book used two different styles of break in the text. Breaks thatwere shown by extra blank space between paragraphs are indicated by
= = = = =
Breaks that were shown by a line of stars are indicated by
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
Page 9, "24" changed to "25" for actual location of illustration.
Page 113, "unforgetable" changed to "unforgettable" (real and sounforgettable)
Page 122, "choose" changed to "chose" (he chose the latter)
Page 226, "girl" changed to "girls" (and before the girls)
Page 296, "as" changed to "us" (tell us about that)
