WET MAGIC (Illustrated Edition). Эдит Несбит

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СКАЧАТЬ all crowded around and peered over the glass walls. Nothing, of course, but the sand and the grass and the shells, the clinkers and the dahlias and the little suspended tin goldfish.

      “I expect the goldfish swung a bit,” said Bernard. “That’s what it must have been.”

      “It didn’t look like that,” Francis answered. “It looked more like—”

      “Like what?”

      “I don’t know—get out of the light. Let’s have another squint.”

      He stooped down and looked again through the glass.

      “It’s not the goldfish,” he said. “That’s as quiet as a trout asleep. No—I suppose it was a shadow or something.”

      “You might tell us what it looked like,” said Kathleen.

      “Was it like a rat?” Bernard asked with interest.

      “Not a bit. It was more like—”

      “Well, like what?” asked three aggravated voices.

      “Like Sabrina—only very, very tiny.”

      “A sort of doll—Sabrina,” said Kathleen, “how awfully jolly!”

      “It wasn’t at all like a doll, and it wasn’t jolly,” said Francis shortly—“only I wish it would come again.”

      It didn’t, however.

      “I say,” said Mavis, struck by a new idea, “perhaps it’s a magic aquarium.”

      “Let’s play it is,” suggested Kathleen—“let’s play it’s a magic glass and we can see what we like in it. I see a fairy palace with gleaming spires of crystal and silver.”

      “I see a football match, and our chaps winning,” said Bernard heavily, joining in the new game.

      “Shut up,” said Francis. “That isn’t play. There was something.”

      “Suppose it is magic,” said Mavis again.

      “We’ve played magic so often, and nothing’s ever happened—even when we made the fire of sweet-scented woods and eastern gums, and all that,” said Bernard; “it’s much better to pretend right away. We always have to in the end. Magic just wastes time. There isn’t any magic really, is there, Mavis?”

      “Shut up, I tell you,” was the only answer of Francis, his nose now once more flattened against the smooth green glass.

      Here Aunt Enid’s voice was heard on the landing outside, saying, “Little ones—bed,” in no uncertain tones.

      The two grunted as it were in whispers, but there was no appeal against Aunt Enid, and they went, their grunts growing feebler as they crossed the room, and dying away in a despairing silence as they and Aunt Enid met abruptly at the top of the stairs.

      “Shut the door,” said Francis, in a strained sort of voice. And Mavis obeyed, even though he hadn’t said “please.” She really was an excellent sister. Francis, in moments of weakness, had gone so far as to admit that she wasn’t half bad.

      “I say,” she said when the click of the latch assured her that they were alone, “how could it be magic? We never said any spell.”

      “No more we did,” said Francis, “unless—And besides, it’s all nonsense, of course, about magic. It’s just a game we play, isn’t it?”

      “Yes, of course,” Mavis said doubtfully; “but what did you mean by ‘unless’?”

      “We weren’t saying any spells, were we?”

      “No, of course we weren’t—we weren’t saying anything—”

      “As it happens I was.”

      “Was what? When?”

      “When it happened.”

      “What happened?”

      Will it be believed that Aunt Enid chose this moment for opening the door just wide enough to say, “Mavis—bed.” And Mavis had to go. But as she went she said again: “What happened?”

      “It,” said Francis, “whatever it was. I was saying....”

      “MAVIS!” called Aunt Enid.

      “Yes, Aunt Enid—you were saying what?”

      “I was saying, ‘Sabrina fair,’” said Francis, “do you think—but, of course, it couldn’t have been—and all dry like that, no water or anything.”

      “Perhaps magic has to be dry,” said Mavis. “Coming, Aunt Enid! It seems to be mostly burning things, and, of course, that wouldn’t do in the water. What did you see?”

      “It looked like Sabrina,” said Francis—“only tiny, tiny. Not doll-small, you know, but live-small, like through the wrong end of a telescope. I do wish you’d seen it.”

      “Say, ‘Sabrina fair’ again quick while I look.”

      “‘Sabrina fair, Listen where thou art sitting, Under the—’”

      “Oh, Mavis, it is—it did. There’s something there truly. Look!”

      “Where?” said Mavis. “I can’t see—oh, let me look.”

      “MAVIS!” called Aunt Enid very loud indeed; and Mavis tore herself away.

      “I must go,” she said. “Never mind, we’ll look again tomorrow. Oh, France, if it should be—magic, I mean—I’ll tell you what—”

      But she never told him what, for Aunt Enid swept in and swept out, bearing Mavis away, as it were, in a whirlwind of impatient exasperation, and, without seeming to stop to do it, blowing out the four candles as she came and went.

      At the door she turned to say, “Good night, Francis. Your bath’s turned on ready. Be sure you wash well behind your ears. We shan’t have much time in the morning.”

      “But Mavis always bathes first,” said he. “I’m the eldest.”

      “Don’t argue, child, for goodness’ sake,” said Aunt Enid. “Mavis is having the flat bath in my bedroom to save time. Come—no nonsense,” she paused at the door to say. “Let me see you go. Right about face—quick march!”

      And he had to.

      “If she must pretend to give orders like drill, she might at least learn to say ‘’Bout turn!’” he reflected, struggling with his collar stud in the steaming bathroom. “Never mind. I’ll get up early and see if I can’t see it again.”

      And so he did—but early as he was, Aunt Enid and the servants were earlier. The aquarium was empty—clear, clean, shining and quite empty.

      Aunt СКАЧАТЬ