"No, dear. The one marked "Spells, Advanced, Various." Really, Carey," Miss Price exclaimed, as Carey pa.s.sed her a book, "can"t you read? This is "Six Easy Curses for Beginners". . . ."
"Oh, I"m sorry," cried Carey quickly and looked again. "This is it, I think."
Miss Price took the book. She put on her spectacles and spent some time gazing at the open page. Picking up a pencil, she scribbled a few figures on a piece of shelf paper. She stared at these, and then she rubbed them out with the other end of the pencil.
"Miss Price-" began Paul. "Don"t interrupt me," murmured Miss Price. "h.e.l.lebore, henbane, aconite . . . glowworm fire and firefly light. . . . Better pull down the shades, Carey." "The shades, Miss Price?" "Yes, over the window. Or we shan"t be able to see this experiment."
Carey pulled down the shades and adjusted them. As the room became dark, Miss Price exclaimed, "Now, isn"t that pretty!" She sounded surprised and delighted. The children crowded round her and saw that the bed-k.n.o.b glowed with a gentle light-pale as early dawn. As they watched, Miss Price twisted the k.n.o.b a little, and the pale light turned to rose.
"There, you see!" Miss Price said triumphantly. "What"s wrong with that, I"d like to know? Pull up the blinds again, Carey."
Carey rolled up the blinds and hooked the oilcloth on its little hook. Miss Price slipped an elastic band round the three hazel twigs and tidied up the notebooks.
"Come along," she said cheerfully, opening the door. "The spell works perfectly. Better than I hoped. I can"t imagine where you went wrong."
They followed Miss Price up the stairs, down the pa.s.sage, and out through the open door into the garden, where the air was sweet with the smell of sun-wanned earth. b.u.t.terflies balanced precariously on the spears of lavender, and b.u.mblebees hung in the foxglove bells. A milkman"s cart stopped at the gate. There was a clang of bottles.
"Thank you ever so much," said Carey. "We"ll try it again this evening. I did just what you said. I didn"t screw it tight at all. I-"
"You?" said Miss Price. "You did it, Carey?"
"Yes. I did it myself. I was very careful. I-"
"But, Carey," said Miss Price, "I gave the spell to Paul."
"You mean Paul should"ve-?"
"Of course. Paul should have done it. No wonder it didn"t work."
Slowly, wonderingly, a grin of ecstasy began to stretch itself across Paul"s face. His eyes gleamed moistly with an almost holy joy.
Carey and Charles looked at him as though they had never seen him before.
"Well?" said Miss Price rather sharply.
Charles found his voice. "He"s sort of young," he pointed out, "for so much responsibility."
But Miss Price was firm. "The younger the better, as I know to my cost. Now run along, children." She turned away, but almost immediately she turned back again, lowering her voice. "Oh, by the way, I meant to tell you something else. You know I said the spell was better than I hoped. Well, if you twist it one way, the bed will take you where you want, in the present. Twist it the other way and the bed will take you back into the past."
"Oh, Miss Price!" exclaimed Carey.
"What about the future?" asked Charles.
Miss Price looked at him as the bus conductor looks when you ask for a ticket to a place off the bus route. Charles blushed and churned up the gravel path with the toe of his shoe.
"Now, remember what I said," went on Miss Price. "Have a good time, keep to the rules, and allow for the bed."
She turned to the milkman, who had been waiting patiently by the step. "Half a pint, please, Mr. Bisselthwaite, and my b.u.t.ter."
THE PRELIMINARY CANTER.
It was hard to get through the rest of the day, but evening came at last; by the time it was Paul"s bedtime, antic.i.p.ation had made them tired and excitement had grown stale.
"Look here, Paul," said Carey suddenly, as Paul was brushing his teeth. "You wouldn"t go and do it by yourself. You"ll lie still till Charles and I come to bed, won"t you?"
Paul looked at her over the slowly revolving brush.
"If you went off on that bed by yourself," continued Carey, "and it went wrong, no one could save you. You might get stuck in the past or anything."
Paul spat into the hole in the basin. He watched the hole, and then, carefully, he spat again. He felt aggrieved; from the moment he had screwed on the bed-k.n.o.b, after getting back from Miss Price"s, Carey and Charles had not let him out of their sight for an instant. It was His bed after all, and, what was more, his bed-k.n.o.b. They might have let him have a trial run, just to the bottom of the garden, say, and back. He hadn"t wanted to go far, but he had wanted to know if it really worked.
"You see, Paul," went on Carey, "suppose Elizabeth came upstairs with your milk, and the bed was gone. What then?
We"ve got to be very careful. It may seem deceitful, but we did promise Miss Price. You can"t go tearing about on the bed in broad daylight, and things like that."
Paul rinsed his mouth and swallowed the water, as was his custom.
"Do you see, Paul? We"ve got to wait until they"re all in bed. Come here, and I"ll comb your hair while it"s wet."
They followed him into his bedroom. They sat on the bed. They all looked at the bed-k.n.o.b, just above Paul"s right ear; it looked just like the other three.
"I bet it doesn"t-work," said Charles. "I bet you anything."
"Shush," said Carey, as Elizabeth came in with their milk on a tray.
"Don"t spill on the sheet, now," she said, panting, "and bring the tray down, Miss Carey, please; it"s my evening out."
"Your evening out?" repeated Carey. She began to smile.
"Nothing funny in that, I hope," said Elizabeth tartly. "I"ve earned it. And no tricks, now; your aunt"s not herself. She"s gone to bed."
"Gone to bed?" echoed Carey again. She caught back the rest of her smile just in time. Elizabeth looked at her curiously.
"No tricks, now," she repeated. "There"s something funny about you children. b.u.t.ter wouldn"t melt in your mouths, but I"m not so sure."
They heard her sigh on the landing. They heard her turn the corner. Then they kicked off their slippers and danced. Noiselessly, tensely, breathlessly, they gyrated and whirled and leapt; then, panting, they fell onto Paul"s bed.
"Where shall we go?" whispered Carey, her eyes shining.
"Let"s try a South Sea island," said Charles.
Paul bit deeply into his bread. His cheeks bulged and his jaws moved slowly. He was the calmest of the three.
"The Rocky Mountains," suggested Carey.
"The South Pole," said Charles.
"The Pyramids."
"Tibet."
"The moon."
"Where would you like to go, Paul?" asked Carey suddenly. Happiness had made her unselfish.
Paul swallowed his mouthful of bread and b.u.t.ter. "I"d like to go to the Natural History Museum."
"Oh, Paul," said Carey.
"Not that kind of place. You can go there any time."
"I"d like to see the Big Flea in the Natural History Museum," said Paul. He remembered how Carey and Charles had gone with an uncle, without him, when he, Paul, .had been in bed with a cold.
"It was only a model. Think of another place, Paul. You can have first turn, as it"s your bed. But somewhere nice."
"I"d like to go to London," said Paul.
"But you can go to London almost any time," Charles reminded him.
"I"d like to go to London to see my mother."
"Don"t say "my mother." She"s our mother, too."
"I"d like to see her," repeated Paul simply.
"Well, we"d like to see her," admitted Carey. "But she"d be kind of surprised."
"I"d like to see my mother." Paul"s lips began to tremble, and his eyes filled with tears. Carey looked worried.
"Paul," she tried to explain, "when you get a thing as magic as this, you don"t make that kind of wish, like seeing your mother and going to museums and things; you wish for something absolutely extraordinary. Don"t you see, Paul? Try again."
Paul"s face turned crimson, and the tears rolled out of his eyes and down his cheeks.
"I"d like to see my mother, or the Big Flea." He was trying not to sob aloud. He closed his lips, and his chest heaved up and down.
"Oh, dear," said Carey desperately. She stared down at her shoes.x "Let him have his turn," Charles suggested in a patient voice. "We can go somewhere else afterwards."
"But don"t you see-" began Carey. "Oh, all right," she added. "Come on. Get on the bed, Charles." She began to feel excited again.
"Let"s all hold onto the rails. Better tuck in that bit of blanket. Now, Paul, take hold of the k.n.o.b-gently. Here, I"ll blow your nose. Now, are you ready?"
Paul knelt up, facing the head of the bed and the wall. He had his hand on the k.n.o.b. "What shall I say?"
"Say Mother"s address. Say, "I wish to be at No. 38 Mark-ham Square" and twist."
"I wish to be-" Paul"s voice sounded thick. He cleared his throat.
"At No. 38," prompted Carey.
"At No. 38."
"Markham Square."
"Markham Square."
Nothing happened. There was an awful moment of suspense, then Carey added quickly, "S.W.3."
"S.W.3," repeated Paul.
It was horrible. It was a swooshing rush, as if the world had changed into a cinema film run too quickly. A jumble that was almost fields, almost trees, almost streets, almost houses, but nothing long enough. The bed rocked. They clung to the railings. The bedclothes whipped round Carey and Charles, who clung to the foot, blinding them, choking them. A great seasick lurch. Then bang . . . b.u.mp . . . clang . . . and a sliding sc.r.a.pe.
They had arrived.
They felt shaken and breathless. Slowly Carey unwound a blanket from her neck and head. Her mouth was full of fluff. The eiderdown was blown tight round Charles and hung through the bra.s.s rails of the bed. Paul was still kneeling on the pillow. His face was scarlet and his hair was blown upright.
"Gosh," said Charles after a moment. He looked about him. They were indeed in Markham Square. The bed had come to rest neatly alongside the pavement, nearly touching the curb. There was No. 38 with its black front door, its checkered steps, and the area railing. Charles felt extraordinarily conspicuous. The bed was so very much a bed and the street so very much a street, and there was Paul crossing the pavement in his bare feet to ring the front door bell. Paul, in his pajamas and with such untidy hair, standing on Mother"s front steps in broad daylight-a warm, rich evening light, but nonetheless broad daylight.
Charles prayed for the door to open quickly. He was by nature extremely retiring.
A red bus rolled by at the end of the square. For the moment, the pavement was empty.
"Ring again," he cried fervently. Paul rang again.
They heard the echo of the bell in the bas.e.m.e.nt, a polite, regretful, empty sound. The dark windows stared blankly.
"There"s no one at home," said Carey when they had waited a minute or two longer. She uncurled her legs. "Mother must have gone out to dinner," she announced, standing up. "Well, we"ll have to wait. Let"s tidy the bed."
As they made the bed, drawing up the blankets, turning back the sheets, plumping up the pillows, Charles marveled at Carey"s and Paul"s lack of concern. Didn"t they think it odd, he wondered, to be making a bed there in a London street? He glanced longingly toward the area steps. "Shall we try the back door?" he suggested-anything to be away from the bed and down below the level of the pavement. He couldn"t go far because he hadn"t any shoes on.
They crept down the area steps. They rattled and pulled at the tradesmen"s door. It was locked. They peered in at the kitchen window. A cup and saucer lay on the drainboard; the rest of the kitchen was curiously tidy and deathly still. The window was fastened. Even breaking it would have done no good. It was barred against burglars.
"We must just sit on the bed and wait," sighed Carey.
"Not on the bed," said Charles hastily. "Let"s stay down here, where no one can see us," he added.
They all squeezed together on the bottom step, facing the dustbin. The area smelled of wet tea leaves, and the step was cold.
"I don"t call this much of an adventure," said Charles.
"Nor do I," agreed Carey. "It was Paul"s idea."
It grew darker. Looking upwards, they saw that the light was draining quickly from the street above. There was mist in the air.
They began to hear pa.s.sers-by. The footsteps always paused at No. 38, and the children, listening, realized how much grownups think alike. They nearly all said, with deep surprise, "How funny! A bed!" or "A bed! How funny!" Always they heard the word "Bed-bed, bed, bed" and footsteps. Once Charles spoke for them. As he heard the footsteps pause, he said aloud, "How funny, a bed!" It was almost dark then, and a form peered down at them over the area railings. "Some children," muttered a voice, as if explaining to a second person. As the footsteps died away, Charles called after them, "And a bed."
"Don"t, Charles, it"s rude. You"ll get us into trouble." It became quite dark, a darkness laced with mist. "River fog," said Charles, "and if you ask me, I think Mother"s gone away for the week end."
Paul was already asleep against Carey"s shoulder. Carey had a sudden brain wave.