Kitabı oku: «Knock Three Times!», sayfa 10

“Certainly, ma’am—anything you like,” beamed Mr Papingay, swelling with pride at his own and the leaf’s importance.

Old Nancy handed the painted leaf back to Molly. “Place it under that Grey Pumpkin,” she said, pointing to Jack’s Pumpkin.

When Molly had done this, she was told to strike her one remaining match and set light to the painted leaf. This she did, and stood back as it caught alight, and little tongues of fire and grey puffs of smoke curled round the Pumpkin. Higher the smoke curled, and thicker it became, until the Pumpkin was entirely hidden from view in the centre of a great column of grey smoke. Every one watched—fascinated. Suddenly there was a terrific bang—then the smoke began to thin and drift apart. As it cleared away a figure could be seen standing in the centre of it.

It was Jack, dazed and rubbing his eyes.

“Jack! Jack!” cried Molly, rushing toward him. “Oh, I am so glad! Are you quite all right, Jack? Are you hurt?” She drew him out of the smoke.

“Hullo!” he said, gazing round. “Oh, I say, what’s happened?”

He was soon told.

“And do you mean to say that I’ve been stowed away in an old pumpkin, and been rolling about all over the country?—well, I must have looked an ass!” said Jack. “But I don’t remember anything—only feel as if I’ve been shut up somewhere and been to sleep.” He found his hand seized by one friend after another, and himself congratulated and questioned by the crowd that gathered round him.

“And so it was your leaf that did the trick, Mr Papingay, was it?” said Jack, grasping that gentleman’s hand and pumping it up and down. “Well, I’m blessed—you are a marvellous man!”

Which was just what Mr Papingay, his face wreathed in smiles, was thinking about himself.

CHAPTER XXI
The Grey Pumpkin’s Fate

AND now, the smoke having entirely disappeared, Old Nancy turned again toward the Grey Pumpkin. She raised the Black Leaf high over her head and, closing her eyes, murmured something to herself; then she opened her eyes and said to Molly:

“I have summoned the Pumpkin’s spies, but while we are waiting for them I want you to tell us the story of how you found the Black Leaf.”

Molly felt very shy all at once, but she obeyed Old Nancy, and standing on the doorstep, facing the crowd, she told her story as briefly as she could, without leaving out the name of anybody who had helped. One of the councillors was asked by the King to take down her words in a note-book so that they could be afterward read by all those at a distance who could not hear. When Molly came to the part about Miss Lydia she forgot her shyness and grew enthusiastic.

“I could never have got the Black Leaf at the end if it hadn’t been for Miss Lydia,” she cried. “She was awfully brave. Although she had been made blind by the Pumpkin she walked out into the garden where the Leaf was growing and where the Pumpkin and his spies were waiting—she went out deliberately—to distract them—while I got the Leaf.”

“Three cheers for Miss Lydia!” cried someone in the crowd, and the cheers were given heartily, much to Miss Lydia’s confusion.

When Molly reached the end of her tale there was a perfect storm of cheering; she stepped down, flushed and excited, and stood talking to Old Nancy for a few minutes, until the cheering gradually died away and in its place a low muttering and groaning arose at the back of the crowd, followed by an outburst of booing and hissing. Molly turned quickly and saw that the crowd had parted, and through the space made a procession of people was wending its way. They were the Pumpkin’s spies; some very dejected, with hanging heads; others sullen and defiant. First came the old woman with the scarlet turban and the little darting eyes; next came the girl in green; then several others that Molly had never seen before—though judging by the remarks to be heard on all sides they were no strangers to the other searchers; among those in the rear Molly recognized the old watchmaker, and the man on horseback, who had given her the letter that was supposed to be from Old Nancy. There were about thirty of the spies altogether, and they gathered in a group before Old Nancy, who eyed them sadly.

“Was it you who scattered the grey powder on my window sill, and made me sleep through the sunset hour, and so enabled the Pumpkin to return?” she asked of the old woman who had led the band of spies.

The old woman nodded. “When some one in the Impossible World pierced the Pumpkin with a pin, the power for good which held me was suddenly dispersed, and all the evil magic that I knew rushed into my mind, and I made the grey powder and brought it to you … heh, heh, heh,” a chuckle escaped. “And I’m glad I did. We’ve had a splendid time, ain’t we, ducky?” she leered at the girl in green, who nodded sullenly. “And if it hadn’t bin for a sort of muddle we made between us in our eagerness to keep that meddlin’ gel away”—the old woman gave Molly an ugly glance—“our Grey Pumpkin wouldn’t have bin caught and here to-day, that he wouldn’t.”

“Tell me about the muddle,” said Old Nancy, swaying the Black Leaf in her hand gently toward the old woman, who seemed compelled to answer.

“In the first place one of us led her”—she jerked her head in the direction of Miss Lydia—“to the wrong lake by mistake, when she was blind—right into that gel’s path instead of out of it, and when we found out what had bin done and went to fetch her away from Lake Desolate, we couldn’t find her. So, in case she came back to the Lake (which she did) another of us, thinking to cover up the mistake, wrote a letter making believe it was from you, Old Nancy; and the gel would have believed the letter and obeyed it, and everything would have bin all right for us, only something put it into her head not to believe the letter, and so she led the blind woman home and found the Leaf growing in her garden. But even then she would never have got the Leaf if it hadn’t bin for those matches of yours, Old Nancy; they do burn,” and the old woman held out her right hand across the back of which was a deep red scar. “What put it into your head not to believe that letter?” she asked suddenly of Molly.

“I had seen Miss Lydia’s photo at a friend’s house, and I recognized her as soon as I saw her beside Lake Desolate—and so I trusted her,” Molly answered.

“So that’s how it was,” nodded the old woman. “Of course we sent for the Pumpkin at once as soon as we found you were on your way to the house, but he did not arrive until you were inside, so we thought we’d catch you coming out.”

“Are none of you repentant?” asked Old Nancy. “None of you sorry for all the unhappiness you have caused?”

“Repentant! I should think not,” the old woman answered. “No, though we’re powerless now—we’re not repentant. We had the finest time of our lives; that’s so, comrades, ain’t it?”

The other spies assented without hesitation.

“Then,” said Old Nancy, “it would be best to banish you all, together with your leader, the Grey Pumpkin, out of our world into the Impossible World, where you can do no harm. Is it your wish that I do this?” Old Nancy cried to the crowd.

“Yes, yes. Banish them! Banish them!” the answer came from hundreds of voices; and for a few minutes there was a deafening roar from the people; but as Old Nancy lifted her hand the noise died away and there was silence again.

Old Nancy moved among the spies, touching each with the Black Leaf and muttering some words to herself; they shivered as the Leaf touched them.

“You shall retain your human forms in the Impossible World,” said Old Nancy to the spies. “But all the evil magic you have learned you shall forget. You will forget, too, your life in this world; sometimes you will have vague recollections, but you will never be able to find your way back here again, and you will not be able to do any harm to others in the Impossible World. I am allowing you to retain your human forms, because, bad as you have been, you have not been as bad as the Grey Pumpkin. According to your wicked acts in this land, so will your unhappiness be in the Impossible World. You will be very unhappy,” she ended, pointing to the old woman.

Then muttering some strange words Old Nancy waved the Leaf again, and the spies moved slowly away toward the great tree on the opposite side of the High Road.

“Knock three times,” commanded Old Nancy.

And the old woman, with a last defiant toss of the head, knocked three times. The door in the tree swung open, and one after the other the spies passed through, and the door closed after them with a thud.

All this time the Grey Pumpkin had remained motionless in front of the cottage door, and now Old Nancy approached him and, touching him once more with the Black Leaf, said:

“Go! Back to the Impossible World! Not as a pincushion this time, though you shall still retain your hated shape and shall not resume your human form again. You shall become a footstool for people to kick about and rest their feet on—you shall become a hassock! Go! And never, never return.”

Slowly the Grey Pumpkin swayed from side to side, then rolled away across the road to the tree. It knocked three times against the tree, the door opened, and the Grey Pumpkin passed out into the Impossible World.

The silence which followed the closing of the door in the tree was broken by a terrible guffaw of laughter from Glan’s Father. At once a wild outburst of cheers and laughter and shouting came from the crowd on the hill; cheers for Old Nancy; cheers for the King; cheers for Molly and Jack; cheers for the other searchers; there seemed no end to the cheering, for the people were mad with delight. But through it all Glan’s Father laughed on, until the tears rolled down his cheeks and Aunt Janet grew flustered and alarmed. But Glan only stood in front of his Father, his arms akimbo, and laughed too.

“That’s right, Father!” he cried. “Go on! Go on! Let him be, Aunt Janet, he’s not had a laugh for years and years.”

Meanwhile, Jack and Molly were making preparations for returning home through the tree. Molly handed the satchels back to Old Nancy, and although both the children were sorry to leave their friends, they felt that now their work was finished they would like to return home; it was a long time since they had seen Mother and Father. And so they began to say good-bye to the little group of friends around them, including Mrs Jennet, who had arrived with Mr Jennet—so exactly like herself—in time to witness the exit of the Pumpkin.

The King and Old Nancy had been talking apart from the crowd, and now they turned to Jack and Molly.

“Will you accept this?” said the King to Molly, handing her a little box, “as a small token of our thanks and appreciation of the service you have done this country.... It seems a very insignificant thing to offer you, but it has an unusual gift attached to it. Whenever you wear it you will be happy and will give happiness to those around you.... Do not open the box now, but place it on your table, when you get home, where the pincushion stood; and when the sunshine falls across it—open it; if you open it before, the special gift I mentioned will not be with it.”

Molly took the little box and thanked the King sincerely, with sparkling eyes.

To Jack the King said, “I have just heard that you go in for painting, so I am having a special set of painting-brushes made for you, which will help you to do good work—they are rather special brushes;” he and Old Nancy exchanged mysterious smiles. “I want you to accept them as a little memento of your visit, but as they are not quite ready, I shall send them to you to-morrow.”

“Thanks awfully, your Majesty, but I don’t feel as if I’ve earned them properly, you know,” said Jack. But the King shook him warmly by the hand and said he had done a great deal to help.

And so they bade the King good-bye.

“You will find that your Mother hasn’t been anxious about you—I saw to that,” said Old Nancy, as they said good-bye to her.

And Glan said, “Come and see us again some day, little lady, you and your brother. Do, won’t you? Knock three times on the tree when the moon is full, remember.”

“Oh, we’d love to come again some day, wouldn’t we, Jack?” said Molly.

“Rather,” said Jack.

So, for the third time that night the door in the tree opened in response to the three knocks. And this time a little girl and boy passed through to the Impossible World again.

CHAPTER XXII
The Impossible World Again

WHEN Jack and Molly reached the fence that separated their garden from the wood, Jack was surprised to find his slipper still lying there—the slipper he had lost on the way out.

“Oh, I say, Moll,” he said. “Look here—I forgot to give Old Nancy her slipper back, and now I’ve got three slippers all alike!”

Which was in truth the case. As they crossed the garden they noticed that day was just dawning. They found the back door locked, but Jack scrambled through the scullery window, which was unfastened, and so let Molly in without disturbing anybody. They crept upstairs and managed to get an hour’s rest before the breakfast bell rang.

Molly remembered to place her little box on the dressing-table before she went to sleep, and when she woke she saw that the sun was streaming right across it. So she sprang up eagerly and opened the box. Inside was the most exquisite silver bangle that she had ever seen. Molly was delighted, and she found afterward that it had indeed some special charm about it, for she was always happy when wearing it and those around her seemed the same.

At the breakfast-table Mother and Father seemed to the children to glance at them rather curiously.

“Mother,” began Molly, “do you know who gave me this?” and she showed her the silver bracelet.

“Yes,” said Mother to Molly’s surprise. “I know all about it.”

“Why, how did you?” asked Jack.

But “Ah!” was all Mother would say, and she and Father exchanged amused glances.

It was a little puzzling. And even when there arrived by post for Jack a long narrow box containing three paint-brushes, Mother and Father never asked whom they were from, although there was no name inside.

“I suppose there’s no need for us to tell you all about our adventure, if you know already?” remarked Jack. “Do you know everything?”

“Everything,” replied Mother, smiling.

Of course the grey pumpkin pincushion had entirely vanished from Molly’s dressing-table, and she never set eyes on it again, though she wrote and thanked Aunt Phœbe for her ‘useful present.’

Jack and Molly often wonder where the Grey Pumpkin and his spies are. They have never seen any of them yet, though Molly has seen a ticket-collector who reminds her somewhat of the old watchmaker. Both children keep a watchful eye on all shops that sell hassocks, and always glance eagerly round the room when they are invited out to tea anywhere, but so far they have not come across the Grey Pumpkin.