‘Oh help,’ thought Sebastian. ‘I must get out of here before the hours of darkness. It can’t be long now. How am I going to get past this fellow? Where on earth can Mantari have got to?’
Suddenly there was a miaow and Mantari came out of the darkness. The light from his eyes fell on the sentry. To his astonishment Sebastian saw that the man standing before him was swathed in soft grey fronds which clung to the rim of his helmet and fell like a cloak round his broad shoulders. His eyes were stern, but Sebastian could see now that they were dim and lustreless.
‘Why, I do believe those things are cobwebs,’ said Sebastian aloud. Cautiously he touched the tip of the sword which menaced his throat. It crumbled to a fine dust. Slowly, the tall menacing figure fell apart, like a sandcastle washed by the sea, until it was a heap of dust. Sebastian let out a sigh of relief.
‘Phew! That scared me for a moment, I don’t mind telling you. Come on, Mantari. Let’s get out of this place.’
Mantari set off again and soon they came to another chamber, much smaller this time. The only way out was a low gap in the rock, dark and uninviting. Sebastian bent down to go through and a horrible smell, stale and stickily sweet filled his nostrils.
‘Ugh! Have we got to go down there? It looks horrible!’
Mantari paced up and down, miaowing anxiously and running up to the dark hole, as if encouraging Sebastian to follow him.
‘No. Wait, Mantari! Look, there is another way.’
The rock split open before them and sunlight poured into the gloomy chamber. Below them lay a bright city, its buildings quite unlike any that Sebastian had ever seen. They were very tall and had enormous windows of glittering glass. The streets were smooth and shiny and crowded with strange machines which seemed to move all by themselves without rails or horses. Narrow chimneys, hundreds of feet high, stretched above the buildings blowing out clouds of smoke. How bright and shiny it looked to Sebastian. He could hear the roar of machinery and hooting from those strange horseless machines. And then, most wondrous of all, a great metal bird appeared in the sky, screaming over the buildings and leaving a blur of white smoke behind it. Sebastian longed to go down to the great city. But as he stepped forward, Mantari hissed and spat, and stood on his hind legs, pushing Sebastian back with his forepaws. And, as Sebastian watched, the scene changed. Gradually the horseless machines came to a stand-still for the simple reason that there were so many that there was no room for them to move. The smoke from the chimneys grew black and thick, covering the bright windows with grime and the sky turned an ugly yellow. The roar of machinery grew deafening and above the din Sebastian could hear the angry cries of human voices and the boom of guns. And then finally there was a boom to end all booms and a great pall of smoke rose up over the city and hid it from sight. It grew higher and higher and then curled over at the top like a great mushroom.
Sebastian stepped back from the opening and his heart was filled with sadness. His wounded hand throbbed painfully.
‘Come on, Mantari. You were right. As always. That’s definitely not the way to go!’
He bent down and struggled through the stinking gap in the rock after Mantari. At once his arms and legs flew into the air and he found himself hurtling along a narrow tunnel at tremendous speed, hardly touching the ground except when he grazed an elbow or a knee against the smooth walls.
‘What is it?’ thought Sebastian. ‘Is it a strong wind pulling me like this?’
Then suddenly he understood the reason for this strange propulsion. It was not a wind but gravity which moved him.
‘I’m actually falling down a deep hole. Everything has turned a different way up, that’s all.’
Then uneasily, he began to wonder what would happen when he reached the bottom.
‘I hope there’s a bit of sand or something. I’m falling very fast and it’s a long way. Hallo! It’s getting lighter. Must be near the bottom now.’
He closed his eyes and braced himself for the shock. Involuntarily he opened them again, just in time to see Mantari leaning out from a rocky shelf in the wall of the tunnel. He was striking out with his paw as if to try and stop Sebastian’s descent. But his efforts were useless. Sebastian plunged on downwards (or sidewards), now in total darkness.
‘Oh, bother, bother, bother!’ cried Sebastian and his anguish was great. ‘I’m lost without Mantari, and heaven knows where this tunnel ends.’ A horrible thought struck him. ‘I suppose it does go somewhere? Supposing it goes on for ever? No, no, that’s absurd. The earth is round. I’d have to come out the other side. But is this place on earth? Oh, rot! I’m just confusing myself.’
And here his train of thought was brought swiftly to an end as, with a tremendous splash, he hit the surface of a sheet of water and sank like a stone.
He had been taken completely by surprise and hadn’t had time to take a deep breath so he soon found himself gasping and bubbling like a cauldron and still going down with the force of his fall. His first reaction was one of panic, but then some instinct of self-preservation made him kick out with his legs and arms and soon he had the sensation of rising. His movements grew wild as he became increasingly desperate for air. His lungs were bursting and his head spinning, when at last he struck the surface and thankfully drew in air. He grabbed a piece of projecting rock and rested his head against the cold wall of the tunnel while his heart slowed its fierce beating and his breathing ceased to rasp in his throat. And then came a sound which filled him with despair: the deep clang of a bell.
‘Time’s running out. What did he say? Seven times seven. Forty-eight to go. Now, how do I get out of here?’
He felt the walls around him, as far as he could reach, hoping to find an opening or a foothold but except for the piece of rock he was holding on to, the walls were quite smooth. He swam all round the circle of water but there was no break in the slippery surface. The bell tolled again.
‘Forty-seven to go and I seem to be a prisoner. There’s no way out. I suppose eventually I’ll just drown. The end of all our hopes, the end of the Elixir. The end of me!’
He dragged the casket from his pocket and placed it on the outcrop of rock. He opened the lid. The plume of fire grew tall and filled the bottom of the tunnel with light, shining on the surface of the water. And with its encouraging strength and brightness an idea came to Sebastian. Leaving the casket on the rock, he kicked his way round the walls, every now and then plunging beneath the surface. At last he found what he was looking for. A foot below the surface of the water was the opening to another tunnel, very much smaller and of course filled with water — but it was perhaps a way out.
‘If it goes downwards I’m done for, but if it should go up —’
He swam quickly over to the casket, closed the lid and put it back in his pocket. It was no easy task for he had to tread water all the time and struggle with his tight, wet clothing.
Then he swam to the place where he judged the tunnel to be, took the deepest breath his lungs could hold and dived beneath. He found the underwater entrance and swam into it with slow, measured strokes. He tried to keep his head from banging against the roof, just occasionally stretching his neck to see if there was any air yet. He was continually disappointed, and he began to think that the tunnel was leading downwards after all. Soon he felt a strain in his chest and the need for oxygen. Then the tunnel grew narrower and he could no longer use his arms. He realized that there was no way back for him now, for the tunnel was too narrow to turn round in. And anyway he doubted if he would have the breath for an equal distance.
‘I must keep going!’ he said to himself. ‘Oh heavens, I must breathe soon. Can’t take it much longer. Feel dizzy. Legs getting tired. Must keep going! Must keep going —’
And then he sank into unconsciousness. His body grew limp and drifted slowly to the ceiling of the tunnel where it bobbed and swayed like a piece of seaweed.
Darkness. Peace. A soft splashing like a caress floated in Sebastian’s unconscious mind. There was n
o thought of struggle. What need was there ever to struggle again? Swish, swish, swish went the sound in his head. His body was rocking gently in the watery cradle.
Then gradually he became aware of a feeling of acute discomfort. He was freezing cold and sodden. He lifted his head with an effort and lifted his eyelids. A pair of bright eyes, only a few inches from his own, gazed at him lovingly and a loud purr sounded above the soft plish-plash. Then he realized what the splashing was. He was in a boat, the very boat which had brought him into this place of danger and confusion. Standing in the bows was the blindfold boatman, pushing the vessel forward with slow strokes of his pole.
Sebastian sat up and was promptly sick over the side of the boat. He felt much better after that, as if he’d expelled a great weight from his chest. But his teeth were chattering with cold and thankfully he took the warm cat on his lap. He fully realized the enormity of Mantari’s sacrifice for nearly all cats hate water and Mantari was not an exception. Together they watched their surroundings slip slowly past. They were gliding through a series of underground caverns. Sheets of dark water stretched behind and beyond, the prow of the boat cutting the still surface like a diamond on glass. The ceilings were ribbed with fronds of water, frozen like a tracery of spiders’ webs against the damp green rock. The bell tolled again and this time it sounded much nearer. The boatman never turned to look behind him. He dipped his pole into the water with an unbroken rhythm and never checked or hurried his pace.
‘Where is he taking us?’ thought Sebastian to himself. ‘It must be nearly time now for the gates to close. I wonder what I should do?’
He looked at the chilly water with revulsion. He’d had enough of water to last him a lifetime. Mantari was washing himself, and occasionally Sebastian, looking quite unconcerned. Then Sebastian’s attention was caught by a distant roaring sound, which grew louder every second. He gripped the sides of the boat in alarm. What could it be? A waterfall? They would be smashed to pieces! Then Sebastian saw what it was. A towering wall of fire, violent and raging, threw streams of red and gold into the water.
‘We’ll all be burned to death! At least Mantari and I will. The boatman’s beyond death, I suppose. We’ll have to jump for it.’
He tried to take Mantari into his arms. But the cat struggled against him, and Sebastian knew better than to insist. Now he could feel the fierce heat upon his face and the boat rushed forward as if drawn by the fire. Suddenly all the rocks fell behind them and a blinding white sky was over their heads. The surface of the water seemed to shrink and curve like the rim of a ball. They were poised on top of a spinning globe of fire and Sebastian felt as if he had grown to the size of a giant. A great wave took the boatman in its blazing arms and Sebastian was mute with fear as he gazed at the column of flame which came to engulf him. There was a searing flash and the body of the boatman was transformed to a figure of dazzling beauty and strength, and Sebastian knew that it was Fandeagle. Then the flames swept over the boat and he and Mantari were consumed in the furnace of the world.
‘OH SEBASTIAN!’ cried Melissa, jumping up and hugging him. ‘How glad I am to see you back. Oh, your poor hand! What have you done to it?’
Sebastian rubbed his eyes and looked round in a daze. He was sitting by a glowing fire in the kitchen at Hadlows. On his knee was the casket. His right hand dripped blood slowly on to the hearth.
‘Phew!’ he breathed at last. ‘So it’s all over. I can’t say I’m sorry. But it was an adventure to remember.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ said Fandeagle, grinning all over his ugly face. ‘You did wonderfully. I’m proud of you. I must say there were moments when I doubted if we were going to make it.’
‘Oh please,’ said Melissa. ‘Do tell me what happened. I’m dying to know.’
‘First I shall go and get something for Sebastian’s hand. I won’t be a moment.’
He reappeared a few minutes later with a jar of ointment. He smeared some over the wound and at once the pain stopped and the blood dried.
‘There! It will take some time to heal and will leave a bad scar but it should not impair the use of the hand. Now, let us see what you have brought back with you.’
Sebastian opened the casket and they all marvelled at the plume of pure, flowing fire. Then Sebastian told Melissa of his adventure, not forgetting to mention the part that Mantari had played in it.
‘What an amazing cat he is,’ sighed Melissa. ‘And I think you were marvellously brave, Sebastian. It must have been simply awful in those beastly tunnels. Isn’t it wonderful that all our adventures are turning out so well. But where were you, Fandeagle?’
‘That was the best bit of all,’ said Sebastian. ‘Right at the end when I’d finally given up hope of ever seeing the light of day again, Fandeagle was suddenly there, and I went into the fire without feeling afraid.’
Fandeagle smiled. ‘Come on, you two. You must get some sleep. May you have pleasant dreams.’
‘I’m too tired to dream,’ said Sebastian. ‘I shall sleep the sleep of the dead.’
They made their way slowly up to their rooms. It was early morning now and the sky was turning blue. Sebastian climbed on to his bed and fell fast asleep at once. Melissa took the casket from his outstretched hand and placed it for safe-keeping in the drawer of her dressing-table beside the heart of ice. Then she too fell fast asleep.
When Sebastian awoke he found that the fine weather had broken. The sky was leaden and sheets of rain flung themselves against the casements. Some of the night’s adventure came back to him and he looked at his hand. A dark red gash ran across his knuckles, puckering the skin. But he felt little pain or stiffness and was able to use his hand as well as before. The weather inclined him to stay longer in bed but he decided that he really ought to put in an appearance. He went to the closet to find some warm clothes. But what was that, shining in the darkness among the hanging garments? His hand touched something cold. He pulled it out. It was a sword in a silver scabbard, studded with green stones. There was a strong leather belt to strap it to his side. On the hilt of the sword were carved the letters ‘F.L.’
‘Falcon’s sword,’ whispered Sebastian in excitement. He strapped it round his waist. It felt heavy but marvellous. He drew the sword from its scabbard. The blade was bright and keen, sharp enough to split a hair. He made a few imaginary thrusts and parries, and it answered him with a high whistling sound.
He placed the sword back in the scabbard and returned it to the closet. He was very content.
Then Melissa appeared, yawning and sleepy.
‘What was that strange whistling sound I heard just then? Goodness, I could sleep for ever. What a rotten day.’
There was a knock on the door and Fandeagle popped his head in.
‘There’s some breakfast set out for you in the morning room. In fact it should really be called lunch. Your aunt and uncle had breakfast in bed, because of the inclement weather, so you weren’t missed.’
The clock struck twelve as Sebastian and Melissa went down to the morning room. After a good breakfast they both felt wide awake and were overjoyed when Uncle Bertram came in, bearing a letter from Mother and Father.
‘Wouldn’t they be astonished if they knew what adventures we’re having?’ said Melissa, as soon as Uncle Bertram had gone out again. ‘Mother says she’s finding things very dull at the Embassy and she’s missing us enormously. Father’s very busy and just sends his love. Poor Mother. I shall spend this morning writing them a long letter. What about you?’
‘I think I’ll do a sketch of the house. It’s too wet to go outside but I can remember it well enough. I think I’ll send it to Mother and Father instead of a letter, as we’ll both have the same news.’
‘Good idea. I’ll go and get the writing things and your drawing sheets. We might as well stay in here. The fire’s going beautifully.’
She returned a few minutes later, armed with pens and paper and they set to work at once. Sebastian liked drawing and painting better than an
ything and he knew, without being immodest, that he was good at it.
The rain continued to pour down all afternoon and they continued their writing and drawing without interruption. Then, just as Sebastian was putting the finishing touches to his drawing and Melissa was signing herself, your loving and affectionate daughter, the door opened and Uncle Bertram came in.
‘I’ve taken the opportunity to write a note to your parents,’ he said, laying down a thick sheaf of paper covered with a fine sloping hand, ‘telling them what charming, intelligent offspring they’ve produced and hoping that we’ll see the whole family at Hadlows before long. My word, that’s a very fine sketch!’ And he studied Sebastian’s drawing with great interest.
Sebastian felt rather pleased for he knew that Uncle Bertram was a truthful man and wouldn’t say he liked something if he didn’t.
‘Can you paint as well?’ asked Uncle Bertram. ‘I’d very much like an oil-painting of Hadlows. Who knows, in a few years time it may not exist.’
‘I’d love to do it,’ said Sebastian, eagerly. ‘I’ll start as soon as I can get the materials.’
‘No problem there,’ said Uncle Bertram. ‘Augusta’s a very fine painter in her way and she has a small studio at the top of the house, full of canvases, brushes and paints. What I was going to suggest is that we should do a little tour of the house, and we could take in the studio on our way. Augusta is sleeping. The damp weather affects her disagreeably, and I’ve had enough of my own company for a bit.’
‘What a lovely idea,’ said Melissa jumping up to give him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Let’s go at once!’
‘Yes, rather,’ said Sebastian.
As they went up the main staircase, Melissa stopped for a moment to look at the portrait of Selina.
The House Called Hadlows Page 9
