The Children of the Castle

by Mrs. Molesworth

could ask more they heardWinfried's whistle, and in a moment he appeared. His face was all onesmile--all Ruby's fears and misgivings faded away before it.

  "Grandfather is waiting for you," he said. "There are some cakes, MissRuby, that you will find even better than those others. For_everything_ is better here, you see."

  "How lovely it must all be," said Ruby, with a little sigh. "Aren't yousorry, Winfried, that you can't stay here altogether? Mavis says youhave to go away to work."

  "Of course," said Winfried cheerily. "It would never do, young as I am,not to work. And we shouldn't enjoy this half as much if we had italways--it's the rest and refreshment after common life that makes halfthe happiness. It's different for gran--he's done _his_ part, nonebetter, and now his work should be light I'm thankful to know he's safehere. Now we had better go--down that little hill is the way to hiscottage."

  Children, you have perhaps never been in fairyland, nor, for thatmatter, have I been there either. But I have had glimpses of it a goodmany times in my life, and so I hope have you. And these glimpses, doyou know, become more frequent and are less fleeting as one grows older.I, at least, find it so. Is not that something to look forward to?Though, after all, this sweet country to which our three little friends,thanks to the beautiful princess, had found their way, was scarcely thedream region which we think of as fairyland; it was better described bylittle Mavis's own name for the nameless garden--"Forget-me-not Land";for once having entered there, no one can lose the remembrance of it,any more than once having looked into _her_ eyes one can forget PrincessForget-me-not herself.

  But it would be difficult to describe this magic land; I must leave agood deal of it to that kind of fancy which comes nearer truth thanclumsy words. Though, as it is nice to be told all that _can_ be toldof the sweetest and most beautiful things, I will try to tell you alittle of what Ruby and Mavis saw.

  It might not have seemed such a lovely place to everybody, perhaps.Time had been even when Ruby herself might not have thought it so; forthis garden-land was not a gorgeous place; it was just sweet andrestful. As I told you, all the flowers were wild flowers; but thatgives you no idea of what they looked like, for they were carefullytended and arranged, growing in great masses together in a way we neversee, except sometimes in spring when the primroses almost hide theground where they grow, or at midsummer when a rich luxuriance ofdog-roses and honeysuckle makes it seem as if they had been "planted onpurpose," as children say. All along the grassy paths where Winfriedled them, every step made the little girls exclaim in new admiration.

  "Oh see, Ruby, there is a whole bank of `Robin.' I could not havebelieved it would look so beautiful; and there--look at those masses of`sweet Cicely,' just like snowflakes. And in _our_ fields it is such apoor frightened little weed of a flower you scarcely notice it," saidMavis.

  "But it's lovely if you look into it closely," said Winfried. "Some ofthe very tiniest flowers are really the most beautiful."

  Then they came in sight of a stretch of hair-bells--white and blue--thekind that in some places are called "blue-bells."

  "Stop a moment," said the boy. "Stop and listen--hush--there now, doyou hear them ringing? That is a sound you can never hear in--anywherebut here."

  They listened with all their ears, you may be sure. Yes, as they grewaccustomed to the exceeding stillness, to the clear thin _fineness_ ofthe air, they heard the softest, sweetest tinkle you can imagine; aperfect fairy bell-ringing, and the longer they listened the clearer itgrew.

  "Oh, how wonderful," said Mavis.

  And Ruby added, "I should think if we lived long enough in this countrywe should end by hearing the grass growing."

  "Perhaps," said Winfried.

  "But don't you miss the sea things?" Ruby went on. "You love them so,Winfried, and somehow you seem to belong to the sea."

  "So I do," the boy replied. "The sea is my life. Coming here is only arest and a holiday."

  "I wonder," said Mavis, "I wonder if there is a garden country for thesea to match this for the land. A place where seaweeds and corals andall the loveliest sea things are taken care of, like the wild flowershere?"

  "You may be sure there is," said the fisher-boy, smiling. "There is nosaying what the princess won't have to show us, and where she won't takeus now she has us in hand. Why, only to look into her eyes, you can seeit--they seem to reach to everywhere; everywhere and everythingbeautiful seems in them."

  "You have seen farther into them than we have," said Mavis thoughtfully."But still I think I can understand what you mean."

  "So can I, a _very_ little," said Ruby. "But--they are ratherfrightening too, don't you think?"

  "They must be at first," said Winfried.

  But just then, a little way off, they caught sight of old Adam coming tomeet them. His cottage was close by; they came upon it suddenly, for itstood half-hidden under the shelter of the hill they had beendescending. Such a lovely cottage it was--so simple, yet so pretty;_quite_ clean, with a cleanness you never see out of fairyland or placesof that kind, with flowers of all kinds, forget-me-nots above all,clustering about it and peeping in at the windows.

  Adam welcomed his little guests as kindly as if no unkind thought of himhad ever entered Ruby's head; he made no difference between her andMavis, and I think this caused Ruby to feel more sorry than anythingcould have done.

  If they had been happy that afternoon in the cottage by the sea, you canfancy how happy they were in this wonderful new fairy home of the goodold man's. There was no end to the things he had to show them and teachthem, mostly, I think, about flowers; things they had never dreamt of,beauties of form and colour such as it would be impossible for me todescribe. And each time they came to see him he promised to show andteach them still more. But at last Winfried said they must be going.

  "I promised the princess," he said, for now he spoke of her quite openlyto the children, "that I would take you home by the time the sun setsbeside the castle, and it must be near that now."

  "And how are we to go home?" asked Ruby.

  "The boat is ready," Winfried answered.

  "But where's the sea for it to sail on?" whispered Ruby to Mavis. Shehad not the courage to ask Winfried anymore.

  "Wait and see," said Mavis. "I don't know, but it is sure to be allright."

  Then they bade Adam farewell, promising to come to visit him againwhenever they should be allowed to do so--and rather wondering whereWinfried was going to take them, they set off.

  There was some reason for Ruby's question, for so far they had seen nowater at all in Forget-me-not Land. Everything seemed fresh andfragrant, as if there was no dearth of moisture, but there was neitherlake, nor pond, nor running brook. Winfried mounted the hill a littleway, then turning sharply, they found themselves in a sort of smallwooded ravine or glen. Steps led down the steep sides to the bottom,which was a perfect thicket of ferns, mostly of the deep green delicatekind, which loves darkness and water.

  Winfried stooped and lifted, by a ring fixed into it, a heavy stone.

  "You won't be frightened," he said. "This is the way. We have to godown the well. I'll go first; you'll find it quite easy."

  It scarcely looked so, for it was very dark. Winfried stepped in--therewas a ladder against the side--and soon disappeared, all but his head,then Mavis, and lastly, trembling a little it must be confessed, Ruby.As soon as they were all inside, the stone lid shut itself down; butinstead, as one might have expected, of this leaving them in darkness, aclear almost bright light shone upwards as if a large lamp had beenlighted at the foot of the well, and without difficulty the childrenmade their way down the ladder.

  "That's very nice," said Ruby. "I was so afraid we were going to be inthe dark."

  "Were you, dear?" said a voice whose sweet tones were not strange toher. "No fear of that when I have to do with things. Jump, that'sright; here you are, and you too, Mavis."

  The princess was standing in the boat, for the "well" widened out at one
side into a little stream large enough to row along.

  "The brook takes us to the river, and the river to the sea; that is yourway home," she said. "Winfried will row, and you two shall nestle up tome."

  She put an arm round each, and in silence, save for the gentle drip ofthe oars, the little boat made its way. It was a still evening, not yetdark, though growing dusk, and though they were back in the winter worldby now the children felt no cold--who could have felt cold with theprincess's mantle round them? They grew sleepy, too sleepy to noticehow, as she had said, the brook turned