Miss Price flattened out the earth round the plant with a trowel. She banged it rather hard. "Perfectly fair," she said.
Carey was silent. Paul lay on his face, watching an earwig in the gra.s.s. He held one eye open with his finger. He was very sleepy. Miss Price dug another hole.
"What about the people who can"t do magic?" asked Carey after a while.
"What about the people who can buy special fertilizers?" retorted Miss Price, jamming the plant in the hole upside down, and then pulling it out again. "What about the people with hothouses?" She shook the plant savagely to get the earth off the leaves. "What about the people who can afford expensive gardeners?" She sat back on- her heels and glared at Carey. "How am I to compete with Lady Warbuckle, for instance?"
Carey blinked her eyes. "I only wondered," she said timidly.
"I worked for my knowledge," said Miss Price grimly, starting on another hole. Her face was very red.
"Miss Price," began Carey again after a while.
"Well?"
"Why don"t you make a whole lot of golden sovereigns?"
"Of golden sovereigns?"
"Yes, sacks and sacks of them. Then you could buy hothouses and fertilizers and things."
Miss Price sighed. She pushed her hat back a little from her forehead. "I have tried to explain to you, Carey, how difficult witchcraft is, but you still think I just have to wave a wand for anything to happen. Have you ever heard of a rich witch?"
"No," admitted Carey, "I can"t say I have."
"Well, I"ll tell you why. Money is the hardest thing of all to make. That"s why most witches live in hovels. Not because they like it. I was fortunate enough," she added primly, "to have a little annuity left me by my dear mother."
"Aren"t there any spells for making money?"
"Dozens. But you can"t get the ingredients. What people don"t realize," went on Miss Price, "is that there are very few spells that can be done without paraphernalia. You must, if you understand, have something to turn into something and something to turn it twith."
"Yes," said Carey, "I see." And it was indeed as clear as daylight to her.
"And there are very few spells I know by heart," admitted Miss Price. "I have to have time to look them up. And quiet. I can"t be fussed." She took up her trowel again. "If I"m fussed, everything goes straight out of my head. Now you must wake up those boys. There"s the church clock striking three-quarters."
Carey got up unwillingly. "I wish," she said, "you"d come with us on the next adventure."
"Well," said Miss Price, "it depends on where you go. If I came, I"d like it a good deal better arranged than last night was, for instance."
"We"d let you choose," offered Carey.
"Well," said Miss Price brightly. "We could all plan it together, couldn"t we?" She seemed fl.u.s.tered and pleased at the same time. "But not tonight. Beauty sleep tonight. . . ."
The South Sea island idea came to Carey in the hayloft. She had awakened first and lay sleepily staring at the patch of blue sky through the open door, breathing the sweet smell of the dried apples left over from last year.
"What a pity," she thought, as she stared at the sky, "that we have to go everywhere at night. There are heaps of places I"d like to see, but in daylight." Then slowly she remembered that daylight was not the same all over the world, that the earth was slowly turning, that if you could travel fast enough -in a magic bed, for instance-you might catch up with the sun. The idea gradually took shape and became such an unbearably exciting possibility that she had to wake Charles.
They discussed it at long length, all that evening between tea and bedtime, and the very next morning they tackled Miss Price. Apart from liking her, Carey thought she might perhaps feel safer if Miss Price came along too; a little extra magic couldn"t come amiss, and the police-station episode had had its frightening moments.
Miss Price was a little alarmed at first at the distance.
"Oh, I can"t go gadding about the Pacific at my age, Carey. I like what I"m used to. You"d better go by yourselves."
"Oh, do come, Miss Price," Carey begged her. "You needn"t gad about. You can just sit in the sun and rest your ankle. It would do you good."
"Oh, it would be wonderful, Miss Price. Just think- bananas, breadfruit, pineapples, mangoes! You could come on the broomstick."
"The broomstick can only do about five miles at a stretch," objected Miss Price, but her eyes lit up at the thought of a breadfruit cutting in a pot.
"Then you can come with us on the bed. There"s heaps of room. Do, do, Miss Price!"
Miss Price wavered. "It would be a change," she admitted.
"Couldn"t we go tonight?"
"Tonight!" Miss Price looked startled.
"Well, why not? We slept last night."
Miss Price succ.u.mbed. "Well," she said hesitatingly, "if you slept last night . . ."
Paul was a little mystified by the South-Sea-island idea, but when Carey and Charles had explained to him the wonders of a coral reef, he, too, became agreeable but insisted on being allowed to take his bucket and spade.
Miss Price got out an atlas and an encyclopedia, and they searched for islands whose dawn would correspond with sunset in England, where European night became Pacific day. They did sums and calculations on the backs of envelopes, and at last they decided on an island called Ueepe. It was not marked on the map, but it was mentioned in the encyclopedia as an island yet to be explored by white men. It had been sighted among others mentioned from the sailing ship Lucia Cavorta in 1809 and was spoken of by this name by natives on the island of Panu, four hundred and fifty miles distant, and was said to be uninhabited.
"We"ll have the whole place to ourselves," exclaimed Carey delightedly. "We could even rename it."
As it would hardly be possible for Miss Price to sneak into Aunt Beatrice"s house so late in the evening and make her way up to Paul"s bedroom, it was decided that Miss Price was to come to the window on her broomstick when it began to grow dark and that the children would let her in.
Charles mended Paul"s spade for him, and they also found a b.u.t.terfly net, "which might do for shrimping or anything."
The children undressed and had their baths just as usual, because it was one of those nights when Elizabeth wanted to talk about her sister"s little boy"s operation. She followed them about from bathroom to bedroom, telling them the well-known details. They knew that later, when she served Aunt Beatrice"s dinner, she would sigh and say that she was "worn out getting those children to bed."
But she went at last, stumping down the stairs, and Carey and Charles slipped from their room into Paul"s. Paul was asleep, so they sat on his bed and talked in whispers until it began to grow dark. Then they went to the window and watched for Miss Price. Charles was the first to spy her, flying low in the shadows of the cedars. The broomstick had a slightly overloaded look and swayed against the window sill as a dinghy b.u.mps against a ship"s side. It was difficult getting Miss Price in at the window. She was carrying a string bag, a book, and an umbrella, and she dared not let go of the broomstick until her legs were safely over the sill. She knocked her hat off on the lower part of the sash, and Carey, picking it up, found that it was a sun helmet. "My father"s," explained Miss Price, in a loud whisper, panting after her exertions, "the one he had in Poona in "99. It has mosquito netting round the brim."
Carey peered at it dimly in the fading light, as it swung upon her finger. It smelled strongly of naphtha. "I don"t think there are any mosquitoes in the South Seas," she whispered back.
"Well," replied Miss Price briskly, tying the string bag to the foot of the bed with Paul"s dressing-gown cord. "Prevention is better than cure. Better slip the umbrella under the mattress, Charles. And my book, too, please."
It was so dark now that they could hardly see each other"s faces. There was no moon, and the cedar boughs were but dim shadows against a gray sky.
Carey wondered suddenly whether they ought to have dressed again. She hadn"t thought of it, somehow. Now, it seemed too late. The dark room was full of bustle. Paul was waking as Charles heaved at the mattress to stow away the book and umbrella.
"What do you want?" he asked sleepily.
Carey flew to his side. "Put your dressing gown on," she whispered. "It"s time to go."
"To go where?" asked Paul in his normal voice.
"Shush," whispered Carey. "To the South Sea island. The coral reef, you remember?"
"But it"s so dark," objected Paul.
"It will be daylight there." She was putting his arms in the sleeves of his dressing gown. "There"s a good boy," she praised him. "You"ve got to say, "I wish to go to Ueepe." Here"s your net and bucket and spade. I"ll take them for you. Kneel up, Paul."
Paul knelt up, facing the head of the bed. Miss Price was firmly tucking in the blankets. She laid her broomstick under the eiderdown. Then they all took their places. Miss Price sat next to Paul, and Charles and Carey held on at the foot.
Paul put his hand on the k.n.o.b. Then he turned round. "It makes me feel sick, when the bed goes," he announced.
"Oh, Paul," whispered Carey. "It"s only a minute. You can bear it. Miss Price has a nice picnic in her bag," she added as an inducement. "Go on. Twist."
Paul twisted. The bed gave a sickening lurch. The night seemed to turn blue, a blue that glittered like a flying tinsel ribbon, a rushing, shimmering blue turning to gold, to light, to heat-to blinding sunshine. Sand flew stinging past their faces as the bed skidded, then b.u.mped, then stopped. They had arrived.
THE ISLAND OF UEEPE.
Carey"s first thought was that she wished she had brought her hat. The white sand flung back the dazzling glare of the sunlight in such a way that she had to screw up her eyes to see.
The bed had done its best for them. It had set them down on the very tip of a horseshoe-shaped reef. They found themselves on a thin strip of fine white sand held in place by walls of pitted coral. It was almost like being on a ship. In the distance, across a lagoon of dazzling blue sea, they could see the other tip of the horseshoe. In between, a mile or so away, where the front of the horseshoe might be, were trees and low hills.
In among the rocks, which formed the coral walls of their narrow strip of land, were clear pools in which glimmered seaweed of lovely colors, sea anemones, and transparent fish. And the sand was as smooth and fine and white as icing sugar. They had never seen sand like it. There were four great sc.r.a.pes in it where the bed had come to rest, but beyond that not a footmark, not a ripple.
Charles kicked off his bedroom slippers and let his bare feet sink into the warm crust. It spurted up between his toes. "Gosh," he said happily.
Carey peered over at the lagoon. It was deep and clear. They could see strange fish swimming through the sunlit water. "How lovely!" exclaimed Carey. "How wonderful! Do let"s go and explore." Out at sea, between the two points of the horseshoe, great waves rolled up and broke into swirls of spray, spreading their foam into the smooth surface of the lagoon.
Miss Price was unpacking. She took four bottles of ginger-pop out of the string bag and placed them in a pool to keep cool. The rest of the food, the hard-boiled eggs and the sandwiches, she put under the bed in the shade.
"You two big ones can explore," she announced, "but I"m going to sit here in the sun." She retrieved her umbrella, her book, and the broomstick. Then sitting down on the sand, with her back against the bed, she methodically removed her shoes and stockings. Miss Price"s feet, Carey noticed, were as pink and k.n.o.bbly as her hands.
"Can we bathe?" asked Charles.
Miss Price adjusted her sun helmet and put up the umbrella. "If you"ve brought your bathing suits," she said amiably, opening her book.
"We haven"t. We didn"t think of it."
"Then why ask?" said Miss Price.
Charles and Carey looked at each other. Both had the same thought but neither spoke.
"You can paddle," went on Miss Price, relenting a little. "And explore. I"ll take care of Paul."
Paul, on the bed, was leaning over Miss Price"s shoulder examining her book. " "Chapter Six," " he read aloud slowly. " "Another Man"s Wife." " Miss Price shut the book on her finger.
"And you, Paul," she said rather sharply, "can take your bucket and spade and build sand castles."
"I"d like to explore," said Paul.
"No, you stay here and play by me. Jump down, and I"ll roll up your pajama legs."
In the end it was agreed that Carey and Charles should go off by themselves, each with a bottle of ginger-pop, a hard-boiled egg, and a sandwich, and that they should all meet by the bed at about an hour before sunset. "And don"t be late." Miss Price warned them. "There"s no twilight on these islands."
Carey and Charles raced down the strip of sand toward the mainland. On one side of them lay the still lagoon, on the other the breakers broke on the coral rocks; and as they ran, the children breathed the heady smell of spray. A faint breeze ran up their pajama legs and down their sleeves, an airy coolness on their skin.
"Isn"t this gorgeous?" cried Carey, increasing her speed.
"I"ll say!" Charles shouted back.
The main beach, when they reached it, was fascinating. They found queer things among the flotsam and jetsam- bits of old spars, a bottle, sharks" eggs. The trees came down almost to the water"s edge. A huge turtle scuttled by them into the sea, almost before they realized what it was. There were land crabs among the stones. Under the trees, as they went inland, the ground was smooth, a mixture of earth and sand. They found fallen coconuts and broke them on stones. They nearly went wild with delight when they found their first breadfruit tree. They had read so much about breadfruit.
"I don"t think it"s a bit like bread," said Charles as he tasted it. "It"s more like spongy custard."
They found a fresh-water stream, and following it up, through the rocks and creepers, they came to a silent pool. It was a lovely pool, where the roots of trees writhed down into the clear water, and in the middle of it was a smooth and sunlit rock. "For diving," said Charles. They were hot and tired, so, in spite of Miss Price, they threw off their pajamas and bathed.
Once in the water, it was almost impossible to leave it. They dived and swam and sun-bathed. They ate their sandwiches and drank their ginger-pop. It tasted odd after so much coconut milk. Carey"s braids had come undone, and her wet hair streaked about her like a mermaid"s. They dozed a bit on the rock and talked, and then they swam again.
"This can be our place for always," said Carey. "Our secret island. I never want to go anywhere else."
There was no hurry to explore it all. They could come back again and again. They could build a house here, bring books, bring cooking things. . . .
When at last they dressed, the sun was lower in the sky and the shadows had crept across the pool. Only in one corner gleamed a patch of golden light. They felt tired as they made their way once more toward the beach, climbing from rock to rock along the bed of the stream. Strange birds flew in and out among the dimness of the trees, and once they heard a hollow, almost human, call. Carey shivered a little in her thin pajamas. Her skin tingled from the sun and water, and her legs felt scratched.
When they came out of the shadows of the trees, the beach was no longer white but warm gold in the deep glow of the setting sun.
"I think we"re a bit late," said Carey. They shaded their eyes with their hands and looked across the lagoon toward the place where they had left the bed. "There it is," said Carey, almost with relief. "But I don"t see-" She hesitated. "Can you see Miss Price and Paul?"
Charles strained his eyes. "No. Not unless they"re tucked up in bed." he added.
"Then they did go exploring after all," said Carey. "We"re back first anyway, even if we are late. Come on."
"Wait a minute," said Charles. He was staring across the lagoon. His face looked odd and blank.
"I say, Carey-"
"What?"
"The water"s come up over that bar of sand."
"What?" said Carey again. She followed the direction of his eyes. Smooth rollers were pouring over what had been their path, the spit of sand and coral along which they had raced so gaily that morning; smooth, combed-looking rollers that poured into the smoothness of the lagoon, breaking a little where the coral ridge had held the sand. The bed, black against the glittering sea, stood as they had left it on a rising slope-an island, cut off.
Carey"s face, in that golden light, looked expressionless and strange. They were silent, staring out across the water.
"Could you swim the lagoon?" asked Charles after a moment. Carey swallowed. "I don"t know," she said huskily.
"We might try it," Charles suggested rather uncertainly.
"What about Paul and Miss Price?" Carey reminded him.
"They may be tucked up. in bed." Charles screwed up his eyes. "It"s impossible to see from here."