Читать книгу Knock Three Times! - Marion St. John Webb - Страница 6

“WHAT dreadful things the Pumpkin must do,” said Molly, “to make every one so frightened of him.”

“He does do dreadful things,” said old Nancy.

“What a mean revenge—on innocent people,” Jack commented.

“And the worst part of it is,” Old Nancy continued, “that no one knows how much evil power he has, nor what he can do to them if he likes. He evidently has his limits, for there seem to be some things that he cannot do: for instance, he cannot roll along quickly—he always moves at the same slow pace; and he cannot climb up walls or trees, though he can roll up hills. So as long as you keep out of his reach he cannot hurt you.”

“If he never comes out of the Pumpkin—the little Dwarf—what does he do when he catches any one?” inquired Molly.

“Just rolls up to them and touches them—bumps against them softly—and then—something queer happens to them. Perhaps they are changed into some strange animal, or maybe they shrink until they are only a few inches high, or suddenly they find they have lost their nose or their eyesight—or worse things than these may happen. The misery caused by the Pumpkin is unthinkable; and more often than not—incurable.”

“Oh,” shuddered Molly. “Well, however did you manage to get rid of him?—to send him into our World?”

“I was just going to tell you about that,” said Old Nancy. There was a moment’s pause, then, “I am a kind of magician, you know,” she went on. The children glanced quickly up at her, startled at her words, but her gentle face reassured them as she smiled kindly down. “And being a kind of magician I discovered a spell that would send the Pumpkin out of our country into the Impossible World. So I turned him into a pincushion, a grey pincushion, and transported him into your World, where I thought he could do no harm; and you know what happened there. I believed we were rid of him for ever, and we would have been—but for me. It was part of the spell that every evening at sunset I should stand with my face turned to the sinking sun, and, making a certain sign with my arms outstretched, should repeat some magic words. As long as I did this each evening the Pumpkin could not come back, and our country was safe. But I knew that if I chanced to be a minute after sunset any evening the spell which bound the Pumpkin would break, and he would return to us.” A sorrowful look came over Old Nancy’s face. “And to-night,” she said, “I failed to say the magic words at sunset—and he has come back. I am certain it is one of the Pumpkin’s followers who has foiled me; though how—I do not know.”

“Can’t you use the spell and turn him into a pincushion again?” asked Jack.

“No,” said Old Nancy, shaking her head. “That spell could only be used once, and once only; and I know no others.”

“Then however can we–” began Jack.

“Patience,” said Old Nancy. “There is one way of thwarting the Pumpkin which everybody in our country knows of. But they can’t do it, because they can’t find the Black Leaf.... You must know that when the little dwarf was thrust into the Pumpkin, the plant in the dwarf’s garden on which the Pumpkin had grown, immediately turned black. For thirteen days it remained so, bearing one solitary giant leaf—then, all at once it vanished! And now, each year it comes up in a different part of the country—just this one immense Black Leaf—and it remains for thirteen days, and then it disappears again. We have not looked for it these last few years—there has been no need: still, some people have seen it. But now we want it badly. For if you can find the Black Leaf, and pluck it, you have but to turn your face to the West and say some words (which I can tell you) and wherever the Pumpkin is he will be compelled to come to you: then you must touch him with the Leaf and—you have him in your power. We were in despair before, when no one could find the Black Leaf, until I discovered that spell. And now, as I know no other spell we shall be in despair till someone does find the Black Leaf. And that is what I want you both to stay and help us do. Strangers are often lucky.”

“Oh, we must stay and help,” cried Jack, impulsively, “mustn’t we, Molly?”

“I should love to,” said Molly, “but couldn’t we just let Mother know so that she wouldn’t be anxious?”

“If you decide to stay,” said Old Nancy, “I will take care that your Mother is not worried in any way by your absence. I will send a message to her.”

“Then we’ll stay,” decided both children at once.

“I am so glad,” Old Nancy said simply. “And now, if either of you should be lucky enough to find the Black Leaf remember what to do. Pluck it immediately, and stand with your face toward the West, and say: ‘Come to me, Grey Pumpkin! I command you by the Black Leaf!’ … You can remember that?”

Jack and Molly repeated it to make sure, and then Old Nancy went on,

“When the Pumpkin appears—as he must appear—rolling toward you, touch him with the Leaf, quickly, before he can touch you. Then he cannot harm you, but will be compelled to follow you wherever you lead him.”

“And where should we lead him?” asked Molly.

“Bring him to me,” said Old Nancy grimly.

“There was something I wanted to ask you,” said Jack, “and I can’t think what it was now.... Oh, I know.... Does the Pumpkin know where the Black Leaf is?”

“We are not quite sure about that, but even if he does, it is evidently of no use to him; I mean, he dare not touch it—that would be fatal to him. But he can guard it, if he knows where it is, and try to prevent you getting it: and this is what he will try to do whether he knows where it is or not; he is sure to try to delay you or trap you, as soon as he discovers that you are searching for the Leaf. And he will soon know what you are trying to do—one of his followers will tell him, you may be sure. So, beware of the Pumpkin and his little band of people. You are in less danger of being caught by the Pumpkin than you are by one of his band, because you will know the Pumpkin when you see him, but you won’t know which are his decoys, his spies, and which are not. And I can’t help you about this, you must simply be very, very careful, and do not trust anyone until you are sure. Of course, people like Glan and his father, or anyone inside the City, are quite all right—because nobody will be allowed within the City Gates now without a pass; and they cannot get a pass, if they are one of the Pumpkin’s people.”

“Mightn’t one of the Pumpkin’s people find the Leaf?” inquired Jack.

“They dare not touch it either, even if they do know where it is,” replied Old Nancy. “But they can guard it—as the Pumpkin can.”

“If the Black Leaf only appears for thirteen days each year, how do you know which thirteen days they are?” asked Molly, thoughtfully.

“Because the thirteen days start on the anniversary of the day on which the little dwarf was put inside the Pumpkin,” said Old Nancy. “And, as fate decrees, it was the anniversary yesterday, so the Black Leaf is somewhere above ground now.... Oh, I do hope and trust you will be successful, my dears.” Old Nancy clasped her hands together nervously. “And don’t be ashamed to run if the Pumpkin tries to catch you before the Leaf is found. You are powerless against him and his magic—until you have the Leaf. But he can only use his magic and hurt you if he touches you, remember. So don’t let him touch you!”

“We’ll run all right, if we see him coming,” said Jack. “Or else we’ll climb up a tree or something.”

“Well, that’s a good idea, too,” said Old Nancy.

“I suppose it’s really a rather—dangerous sort of work we’re going to do,” said Molly.

“It is dangerous, and very brave of you to attempt it,” Old Nancy said. “It needs courage and perseverance. I think you both have pluck, and you both have perseverance; somehow I think one—but only one of you will be successful.”

“Which one?” cried Jack and Molly eagerly.

“Ah!” Old Nancy replied, and shook her head mysteriously. “I cannot tell you any more than that.... But now we must get to work immediately. There is no time to be lost. Wait here for a moment.”

She rose, and smiling at the children, made her way across the firelit room and passed out through a doorway at the far end of the room.

Jack and Molly sat still and gazed silently round the shadowy room. They could never afterward describe the feeling that came over them, alone in that room—even to themselves. They were not afraid. A curious feeling crept over them, and they both felt sure that there was something or someone in the room with them, although they felt equally sure there was no one. There was an air of mystery and secrecy in the room. No shadows danced on walls quite in the way that they danced in Old Nancy’s room; no smoke curled in such weird and fantastic shapes as the smoke that curled up the wide chimney in front of them; while it almost seemed ridiculous to say that the chairs were empty when the something in the room crowded into each of them.

“‘I am a kind of magician, you know,’” repeated Molly softly, nodding her head at Jack. “Do you know I can feel that she is.”

“So can I,” whispered Jack, hoarsely. The children looked at each other seriously for a few seconds, then they turned their heads, and saw that Old Nancy was standing in the doorway watching them. She came forward into the firelight, and they saw that she carried two small satchels in her hands. They were something like the children’s school satchels, only they were smaller and stronger in appearance, being made of soft black leather; they had long straps attached to them, to pass over the shoulders.

“These are your knapsacks,” said Old Nancy, smiling. “You will find them useful on your journey. This is yours,” she said to Molly, “and this is yours,” to Jack. “Now if you will open them and take out what is inside, I will explain what they are meant for.”

The children thanked her and eagerly unbuckled their satchels and felt inside. The contents of each were the same: a sealed envelope, a box of matches, and a little packet of square, brown things that looked like caramels.

“Inside the envelopes are your Passes into the City. Give them up at the City Gates. Take care of them, without them they would not let you in. The matches in those two boxes are not quite ordinary matches—though they look like ordinary ones. I think they’ll help you over one or two difficulties. Use them carefully as there are not many matches in each box. Whatever you do don’t light them in the daytime, but light them when you are in the dark and want to see.”

“Do we strike them just in the ordinary way?” asked Molly.

“Just in the ordinary way,” said old Nancy. “And the little brown squares in the packets are for you to eat, should you be very hungry, and unable to obtain food. You will find them wonderfully refreshing—it is something I make specially.... And here,” she continued, turning to Jack, and holding something out to him, “is another shoe for you. I see you have only got one on.”

“Why, so I have,” cried Jack, noticing for the first time that one of his slippers was missing. “Now wherever did I lose that, I wonder!” (Poor little slipper, it takes no part in these adventures, as it is left behind in the Impossible World. It is lying by the fence at the bottom of the children’s garden, you remember.) “I never noticed it before. Thanks awfully, though. This slipper fits splendidly. How did you know my size?”

“Oh, I knew,” Old Nancy laughed, and would say no more.

She helped the children buckle on their satchels, telling them that once they were inside the City they would learn what plans were being made for the search. “I wish I could give you some magic charm to defend you against the Pumpkin,” she said. “But that is impossible. The Black Leaf is the only thing that can harm him, and save us all. Be very careful, dear children.... Ah!” she broke off with a sharp exclamation.

“What is it? What’s the matter?” cried Jack and Molly, as Old Nancy stood gazing at her left hand which she held out in front of her.

“So that’s how it was done,” she cried. “Look! Look!” and she held her hand toward them. A dark grey mark stained the middle finger from base to tip.

“What is it?” Molly repeated.

“The stain,” whispered Old Nancy excitedly, “do you see? It’s grey! The Grey Pumpkin’s mark! It was one of his spies then, who made me sleep through the sunset hour. But why to-day should they have been able to do this, when they have been powerless for so long?” she muttered to herself. “Could anything have happened to the Pumpkin in—in your world, that enabled him to exert his evil magic all the way into our world, and so the spies were able to begin their black magic again? Can you think of anything that happened?” she asked Molly eagerly.

Molly tried hard to think of something. “Of course, as it was a pincushion—I stuck a pin in it,” she said presently.

Old Nancy gazed at her strangely. “In the moonlight?” she asked. “Was the moonlight shining on it when you stuck the pin in?”

“Yes,” said Molly, nervously. “Oh, did that do it? Oh, I am so dreadfully sorry—then it is all my fault that the Pumpkin has returned?”

“No, no,” said Old Nancy, “you are not to blame. How were you to know? It was my fault for not being more careful, then they could not have drugged me.” She crossed quickly to the window. “Yes—see—here—here on the sill. There’s a trace of grey powder. I know what has happened. When I went out of this room earlier in the evening—I did for a few minutes, I remember—yes, just before sunset time—someone must have opened the window and scattered the powder on the sill, hoping that I should go to the window at sunset and that I should put my hand on the sill and touch the powder. And I did. And the powder must have been magic and made me go to sleep. I wonder I never noticed it.... But never mind now, never mind now.... It is too late. We must get to work at once to remedy the evil.”

But Molly still had a feeling that it was partly her fault and she was glad that she and Jack had decided to stay. She felt it was the least they could do—to try to find the Black Leaf.

As Glan had not returned they decided to start out, for the hour was getting late, and Old Nancy thought it would be wiser for them to be inside the City as soon as possible. She told them that they were almost sure to meet Glan on the hill—he had evidently been delayed—they couldn’t miss him.

“Good-bye, dears, good-bye,” said Old Nancy. “My thoughts will be constantly with you till we meet again. Good luck go with you both.”

Leaving Old Nancy standing in the doorway, with the firelight glowing warmly in the room behind her, the two children started out in the dusk and began to ascend the hill.