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16 - The House of Arden - E Nesbit · Classic Science Fiction Books

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Chapter twelve, Films and Clouds. The films were quite dry by bedtime,
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when, after a delightful evening with no magic in it at all, but
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the magic of undisturbed jolliness, Edred slipped away, unpinned them, and hid
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them in Elfrida's corner drawer, which he rightly judged to be a cleaner resting
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place for them than his own was likely to be. So there the precious
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films lay between Elfrida's best lace collar and the handkerchief case with three fat buttercups
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embroidered on it that Aunt Edith had given her at Christmas. And Edred went
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back to the parlor for one last game of Proverbs before bed. As he
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took up his cards, he thought, how strange it was that he who
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had been imprisoned in the tower and had talked with Sir Walter Rawleigh, should
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be sitting there quietly playing proverbs with his aunt and his sister, just like
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any other little boy. Ah ah, said Edred to himself. I am
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living a double life, That's what I'm doing. He had seen the expression
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in a book, and the idea charmed him. How pleased Edrid looks with
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himself, said Aunt Edith, I'm sure he's got a whole proverb or nearly
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in his hand already. You'll be looking pleased. Presently, he said,
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you always win, And when she did, for Edrid's thoughts were wandering off
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after the idea, how pleased Aunt Edith would look when he and Elfrida should
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come to her, take her by the hand and lead her to the hiding
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place of the treasure, and then say, behold the treasure of our home.
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Now we can rebuild the castle and mend the broken thatch on the cottages,
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and I can go to Eton and Oxford, and you can have a
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diamond Tiara and Elfrida and have a pony to ride, and so can I.
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Elfrida's thoughts were not unlike his, so Aunt Edith won the game of
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proverbs. You have been very good children, missus honeyset tells me, said
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Aunt Idith, putting the cards together. Not so extra, said Edred.
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I mean it's easy to be good when everything's so jolly. We have quarreled
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once or twice, you know, said Elfrida virtuously. Yes we have,
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said Edred firmly. They needn't they felt, have confessed this, and that
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made them feel they were good now if never before, Well, don't quarrel
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any more. I shall be coming over for good quite soon. Then we'll
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have glorious times. Perhaps we'll find the treasure you've heard about, the treasure
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I should jolly well think we had, Edred couldn't help saying, and Elfrida
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added and looked for it too, But we haven't found it. Did you
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ever look for it? No, said aunt didit? But I always wanted
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to. My grandfather used to look for it when he was a little boy.
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Was your grandfather Lord Arden? Dred asked, No, he was the
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grandson of the Lord Arden who fought for King James the third, as they
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called him, the Pretender, you know, when he was quite a boy,
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and they let him off because of his being so young, And then
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he mortgaged all the arden lands to keep the young Pretender Prince Charlie. You
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know in the ballads, he got money to send to him, and of
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course Prince Charles was going to pay it back when he was king. Only
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he never was king, she sighed. And is that why the tallow king
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got all the arden land? Yes, dear, that's why English people prefer
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tallow kings to steward King's and old Lord Arden mortgaged everything. That means he
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borrowed money, and if he didn't pay back the money by a certain time,
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he agreed to let them take the land instead. And he couldn't pay,
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so they took the land, all except a bit in the village and
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arden Knoll that was fixed so that he couldn't part from it. When we
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get the treasure, we'll back back the land again, said Edred. The
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tallow King's going to sell it. He's got so tallowy that Arden Land isn't
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good enough for him. Old Beale told us, and I say, Auntie,
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we'll rebuild the castle too, won't we And mend the holes in the
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thatch where the rain comes in in people's cottages. I mean, have you
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been much into people's cottages, aunti? Edith asked, anxiously, with a
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strange fear of infection, which seems a part of grown up's nature. Every
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one in the village, I think, said Elfrida cheerfully. Old Beale told
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us we ought to in case we found the treasure, so as to know
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what to do. The people are such tears. I believe they like us
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because we're Ardens. Or is it because Edred's a lord. We must find
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the treasure, said Edred, looking as he always did when he was very
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much in earnest, so like his father that Aunt Edith could hardly bear it,
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so as to be able to look after our people properly and to kick
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out the tallow king, said Elfrida. But you won't be discontented if you
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don't find it, said Aunt Edith. It's only sort of game. Really,
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No one I ever knew ever found a treasure. And think what we've
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found already Arden Castle, instead of Sea View terrors and the lodgers. Good
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night chicks. She was gone before they were up in the morning, and
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the morning's first business was the printing of the photographs. They they printed them
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in the kitchen because Missus Honet was turning out the parlor, and besides,
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the kitchen window was wide and sunny, and the old table scored again and
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again till the grain of the wood stood up in ridges was a nice,
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big, clear place to stand toning dishes on. They printed on mad paper
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because it seemed somehow less common and more like a picture than the shiny kind.
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The printing took the whole morning, and they had only one frame,
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and when they had done there were eighteen brown prints of the castle from all
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sorts of points of the compass north and south. And but I explained all
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this to you before. When the princes were dried, which as you know,
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is best done by sticking them up on the window, it became necessary
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to find a place to put them in. One could not gloat over them
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forever, though for quite a long time it seemed better to look at them
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again and again and to say that's how it ought to be, that's the
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way we'll have it, then to do anything else. Elfrida and Edith took
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the prince into the parlor, which was now neat as a new pin and
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smelt almost too much of beeswax and turpentine, spread them on the polished oval
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dining table, and gloated over them. You can see every little bit exactly
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right, said Elfrida. They're a little tiny bit mussy. I expect our
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distance wasn't right or something, but that only makes them look more like real
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pictures, And us, having printed them on paper that's too big, makes
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it more picturery too. And any one who knew how buildings are built would
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know how to set it up. It would be like putting brick back into
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the box from the pattern inside the lid. Here, Missus Honset called from
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the kitchen, you done with all this litter? And both children shouted yes
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and went on looking at the pictures. It was well that the shout was
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from both. If only one had done it, there might have been what
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Missus Honyseet called words about the matter later. For the next moment, both
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said the films and rushed to the kitchen, just in time to see the
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kitchen fire enlivened by that peculiar crackling flare which fire and films alone can produce.
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Missus Hornset had thrown the films on the fire with the other litter,
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and it was no one's fault but the children's, As Missus Hornseet pointed out,
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I ask you if you've done with it all, and you says yes.
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Only yourselves to think, she repeated again and again amid their lamentations,
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and they had to own that she was right. We must take extra special
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care of the prince, That's all, said Edred, And the history of
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the gardens was chosen as a hiding place. Both say and appropriate. It
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doesn't matter so much about the films, said Elfrida, because we could never
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have shown them to any one. If we find the treasure, we'll arrange
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for Auntie to find these prints, leave the history about or something, and
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she'll think they're photographs of painted pictures, so that'll be all right. As
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they arranged the prince between the leaves of the history, Elfrida's eye was caught
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by the words moat and water supply, and she read on and turned the
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page. Don't stop to read, said Edred, But she weighed him away.
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I say, listen, she said, turning back, and she read.
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In ancient times, Arden Castle was surrounded by a moat. The original
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architects of the venerable Pile, with that ingenuity, whose fruits the thinking world
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so much admires in the lasting monuments of their labors, diverted from its terraneous
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course a stream which rose through the chalk in the hills of the vicinity,
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and is said to be debouched into the sea about fifty yards below a high
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water mark. The engineering works necessary for this triumph of mind of a matter
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endured till sixteen forty seven, when the castle was besieged by the troops of
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that monster inhuman form Oliver Cromwell. To facilitate his attack on the castle,
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the officer in command gave orders that the stream should be diverted once more into
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its original channel. This order was accordingly executed by his mermidons, and the
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moat was left dry, this assisting materially the treacherous designs of the detestable regicides.
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It is rumored that the stream, despite the lapse of centuries, still
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maintains its subterranean course. But the present author, on visiting during the autumn
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of eighteen twenty one the residents of the present Earl of Arden, and by
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his permission most cautiously granted exploring the sight thoroughly, was unable to find any
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trace of its existence. The rural denizens of the district denied any knowledge of
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such a stream. But they are sunk in ignorance and superstition, and have
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no admiration for the works of philosophy or the ave inspiring beauties of nature.
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What a dull chap is, said Edred, But I say, when was
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it printed? Eighteen twenty two? I believe I know why the rural what's
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his names wouldn't let on about the stream, don't you see it's the stream
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that runs through the smuggler's cave, and they were smuggling then for all they
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were worth. That's clever of you, said Elfrida. Well, I bet
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we find traces of its existence when we've found the treasure. Come on,
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let's try the chests again. We'll put on the first things we find and
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chance it this time. There's nothing to stop us. We haven't quarreled or
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anything. They had not quarreled, but there was something to stop them all
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the same, and that something was the fact that they could not find the
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door. It simply was not there. And we haven't quarreled or anything,
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said Elfrida, despairing. When they had searched the East House again and again
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and found no door that would consent to lead them to the wonderful attic where
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the chests stood in their too wonderful rows, she sat down on the top
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step of the attic stairs, quite regardless of the dust that lay their thick
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it's all up. I can see that, said Edred. We've muffed it
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somehow. I wonder whether we oughtn't to have taken those photographs. Do you
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think perhaps could we have dreamt it all? No? Oh, said Edred,
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there are the prints. At least I suppose they are there. We'll
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go down and see. Miserably doubting, they went down and saw that the
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photographs were where they had put them, in between the pages of the history
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of Arden. I don't see what we can do, do you, said
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Edred forlornly. It was a miserable ending to the happenings that had succeeded each
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other in such a lively procession ever since they had been at Arden. It
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seemed as though a door had been shut in their faces, and not any
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more. Written in very plain letters across the chapter of their adventures. I
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wish we could find the witch again, said Elfrida, But she said she
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couldn't come into these times more than once. I wonder why, said Edred,
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kicking his boots miserably against the leg of the table on which he sat.
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That dickitch Chap must have been here pretty often to have an address at
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New Cross. I say, suppose we've wrote to him. It would be
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something to do. So they wrote, at least Elfrida did, and they
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both signed it. This was the letter, Dear cousin Richard, do you
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remember meeting us at the gunpowder plot. If you are at these modern times
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again, we should like to know you and to know how you get into
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the future. Perhaps we could get into the past the same way, because
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the way we used to get we can't any more. Perhaps you could come
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here next time instead of new Cross your affectionate friends at a distance, Miss
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Elfrida Arden, Lord Edred Arden p S. I don't know how Lord signed
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letters, because I have not been it long, but you'll know who it
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is. P s. S. Remember old Parrot knows. They walked down
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to the post with this, and as they went they remembered how they had
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gone to the George with old Lady Arden's letter in Boney's time, and Edred
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remarked listlessly that it would be rather fun to find the smuggler's cave. So
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when they had bought a stamp and licked it and put it on the letter,
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they went up on the cliff and looked among the first bushes for the
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entrance to the smuggler's cave. But they did not find it. Nothing makes
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you hotter than looking for things that you can't find, And there is no
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hotter place to look for things than a first forest on the downs on a
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sunny summer afternoon. The children were glad to sit down on a clean,
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smooth, grassy space and look out at the faint blue line of the sea.
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They had not really enjoyed looking for the smuggler's cave. Vain regrets were
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busy in each breast Edred gave voice to them when he said, Oh,
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if only we had put those cold clothes on when we had the chance,
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and Elfrida echoed the useless, heartfelt wail with, oh, if we only
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had And then they sat in silence and looked at the sea for quite a
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long time. Now, if you sit perfectly silent for a long time and
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look at the sea, or the sky, or the running water of a
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river, something happens to you a sort of magic. Not the violent magic
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that makes the kind of adventure that I have been telling you about, but
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a kind of gentle but very strong inside magic that makes things clear and shows
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you what things are important and what are not. You try it next time
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you are in a very bad temper, or when you think someone has been
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very unjust to you, or when you are very disappointed and hurt about anything.
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The magic worked in Edred and Elfrida and Edred said, after all,
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we've got the castle, and Elfrida said, and we have had some ripping
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times. And then they looked at the sea in more silence, during which
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Hope came and whispered Elfrida, who instantly said the mouldi war, perhaps it's
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not all over. He told us to find the door, and we did
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find the door. Perhaps it would tell us something new if we called it
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now and if it came, And if it came, said Edred. Don't
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talk make poetry, said Elfrida. But that was one of the things that
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Edred never could do. Trying to make poetry was to him like trying to
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remember a name you have never heard, or to multiply a number that you've
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forgotten by another number that you don't recollect. But Elfrida, that youthful poet,
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frowned and bit her lip and twisted her hands and reached out in her
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mind to words that she just couldn't quite think of, till the words grew
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tame and flew within reach, and she caught them and caged them behind the
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bars of rhyme. This was her poem, Dear Mouldiwarp, do come if
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you can and tell us if there is any plan that you can tell us
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for us too, to get into the past like we used to do.
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Dear mouldiwarp, we don't want to worry you, but we are in a
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frightful hurry. Shall you be always, said the white mouldiwarp, suddenly appearing
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between them on the jellowy dry grass. Well, well, use the season
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for selinis. What's to do now? I be terrible tired of all this.
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I wish I'd only got to give ye the treasure and go my ways.
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You don't give a poor mouldiwarp a minute's rest. You do terrify me.
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SAME's flies you do? Is there any other way, said Elfrida,
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to get back into the past. We can't find the door now, course
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you can't, said the mole. That's a chance gone and gone forever.
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He that will not when he may, he shall not when he would.
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Ah. Well, tell me where you want to go, and I'll make
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you a back waist working white clock anywhere you like, said Edred incautiously.
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Shh, said the mole, rubbing its nose with vexation. There's another chance,
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gone and gone forever. You be terrible spending with your chances. You
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be now answer shop as weasels nose. Be there any one in the past
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you'd like to see. If you don't know, then you don't go.
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And that's poacher as good as yours any day of the week. Cousin Richard,
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said Elfrida, and drew together. This was the only name they could
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think of by this. Still my DearS, said the mouldiwarp, and I'll
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make your white road right to where he is. So they sat still,
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all but their tongues. Is he in the past, said Elfrida, Because
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if he is, it wasn't much good our writing to him. You hold
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your little tongues, said the mouldiwarp, and keep your little mouth shut and
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your little eyes open, and wish well to the white magic. There never
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was a magic, yet the mole went on. That was the worse for
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being well wished. May I say something, said Elfrida, without its stopping
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the magic. Put your white handkerchief over your face and talk through it,
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and then you may by a most fortunate and unusual chance. Elfrida's handkerchief was
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white. It was in fact still folded in the sixteen blameless squares into which
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the laundress had ironed it. She threw it over her face as she lay
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back on the turf and spoke through it. I'd like to see the nurse
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witch again, she said, instead of cousin Richard. No, as well
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as that's right, said the magic mole. You shouldn't change your wishes,
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but there's no rule against enlarging them. On the contrary. Now, look,
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Elfrida whisked away the handkerchief. And look. Have you ever noticed the
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way the bath water runs away when you pull up the bath tap? Have
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you ever seen bottles filled through a funnel? The white moliwarp reached up its
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hands it's front feet, I would perhaps to say, towards the deep blue
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sky, where white clouds heard it together like giant sheep, and it spoke.
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At least it did not speak, but it sang yet I don't know
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that you could call it singing either. It was more like the first notes
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that a violent yields to the bow wielded by the hand of a mass musician,
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and the white cloud stooped to answer it. Round and round in the
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blue sky they circled, drawing together and swirling down as the bath water draws
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and swirls when you pull out the knob labeled waist round and round till they
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showed like a vast white funnel, whose neck hung a great ring about the
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group. On the dry grass of the downs. It stooped and stooped.
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The ring fitted down over them. They were in a white tower, narrow
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at its base, where that base touched the grass, but widening to the
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blue sky overhead. Take hands, cried the mouldiwarp. Always hold hands when
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there is magic about. The children clasped hands, both hands, said the
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Mouldiwarf, and each child reached out a hand that was caught and held round
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and round Incredibly swifter and swifter went the cloud funnel, and the voice of
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the mole at their feet sounded faint and far away. Ah, it cried,
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Ah, shall the very cloud stance for your delight, and you alone
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refrain and tread not a measure. The children leaped up, and through the
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cloud came something that was certainly music, though it was so vague and far
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away that the sharpest music master you ever had could not have made out the
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tune. But the rhythm of it was there, an insistent beat, beat,
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beat, and a beat that made your feet long to keep time to
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it and through the rit presently the tune pierced as the sound of the pipes
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pears, is the sound of the drums when you see the church brigade boys
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go by, when you are on your holiday by the sea, near the
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white tented happy camps. And that time the children's feet could not resist.
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They danced steps that they had not known. They knew, and they knew
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for the first time the delight of real dancing, None of your waltzes or
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even minuets, but the dancing that means youth and gayety and being out for
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a holiday, and determined to enjoy everything to the last breath. And as
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they danced, the white cloud funnel came down and closed about them, so
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that they danced as it were in a wrapping a white cotton wool, too
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soft for them even to feel it. And there was a sweet scent in
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the air. They did not know in that cloudy, soft whiteness what flower
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bore that scent, but they knew that it smelt of the spring, and
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of fields and hedges far away from the ugliness of towns. The cloud thinned
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as the scent thickened, and green light showed through it. The green lights
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grew the cloud funnel lifted, and Edred and Elfrida, still dancing, found
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themselves but two in a ring of some thirty children, dancing on a carpet
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of green turf, between walls of green branches, and every child wore a
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wreath of white may blossoms on its head. And that was the magic scene
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that had come to them through the white cloud of the white Mouldiwarp's magic.
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What is it? Why are we dancing? Edred incautiously asked of the little
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girl, whose hand, and not Elfrida's. He found that his left hand
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was holding the child laughed, just laughed. She did not answer. It
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was Elfrida who had his right hand, and her own right handy was clasped
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in that of a boy dressed in green. Oh, she said, with
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a note of glad recognition. It's you. I'm so glad. What is
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it? Why are we dancing? It's May Day, said cousin Richard,
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and the king is coming to look on at the revels. What king,
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she asked, Who but King Harry? He said, King Harry and his
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new queen. That but of late was the lady Anne Balin, I say
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dick, said Edred across his sister I'm jolly glad to see you again.
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We not now, said Dick earnestly. Not a word now. It is
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not safe. And besides, here comes the King end of Section sixteen.