The Greatest Works of E. Nesbit (220+ Titles in One Illustrated Edition). Эдит Несбит
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Название: The Greatest Works of E. Nesbit (220+ Titles in One Illustrated Edition)
Автор: Эдит Несбит
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Книги для детей: прочее
isbn: 9788027221431
isbn:
‘Whatever have you done with the carpet?’ asked Mother next day.
‘We gave it to someone who wanted it very much. The name began with a P,’ said Jane. The others instantly hushed her.
‘Oh, well, it wasn’t worth twopence,’ said Mother.
‘The person who began with P said we shouldn’t lose by it,’ Jane went on before she could be stopped.
‘I daresay!’ said Mother, laughing.
But that very night a great box came, addressed to the children by all their names. Eliza never could remember the name of the carrier who brought it. It wasn’t Carter Paterson or the Parcels Delivery.
It was instantly opened. It was a big wooden box, and it had to be opened with a hammer and the kitchen poker; the long nails came squeaking out, and boards scrunched as they were wrenched off. Inside the box was soft paper, with beautiful Chinese patterns on it – blue and green and red and violet. And under the paper – well, almost everything lovely that you can think of. Everything of reasonable size, I mean; for, of course, there were no motors or flying machines or thoroughbred chargers. But there really was almost everything else. Everything that the children had always wanted – toys and games and books, and chocolate and candied cherries and paint-boxes and photographic cameras, and all the presents they had always wanted to give to Father and Mother and the Lamb, only they had never had the money for them. At the very bottom of the box was a tiny golden feather. No one saw it but Robert, and he picked it up and hid it in the breast of his jacket, which had been so often the nesting-place of the golden bird. When he went to bed the feather was gone. It was the last he ever saw of the Phoenix.
Pinned to the lovely fur cloak that Mother had always wanted was a paper, and it said:
‘In return for the carpet. With gratitude. – P.’
You may guess how Father and Mother talked it over. They decided at last the person who had had the carpet, and whom, curiously enough, the children were quite unable to describe, must be an insane millionaire who amused himself by playing at being a rag-and-bone man. But the children knew better.
They knew that this was the fulfilment, by the powerful Psammead, of the last wish of the Phoenix, and that this glorious and delightful boxful of treasures was really the very, very, very end of the Phoenix and the Carpet.
Chapter XIII.
May-Blossom and Pearls
The King came slowly on a great black horse, riding between the green trees. He himself wore white and green like the May-bushes, and so did the gracious lady who rode beside him on a white horse, whose long tail almost swept the ground and whose long mane fluttered in the breeze like a tattered banner.
The lady had a fine face – proud and smiling – and as her brave eyes met the King’s even the children could see that for the time at least, she and the King were all the world to each other. They saw that in the brief moment when, in the whirl of the ringed dance, their eyes were turned the way by which the King came with his Queen.
‘I wish I didn’t know so much history,’ gasped Elfrida through the quick music. ‘It’s dreadful to know that her head—’ She broke off in obedience to an imperative twitch of Richard’s hand on hers.
‘Don’t!’ he said. ‘I have not to think. And I’ve heard that history’s all lies. Perhaps they’ll always be happy like they are now. The only way to enjoy the past is not to think of the future – the past’s future, I mean – and I’ve got something else to say to you presently,’ he added rather sternly.
The ring broke up into an elaborate figure. The children found themselves fingering the coloured ribbons that hung from the Maypole that was the centre of their dance, twining, intertwining, handing on the streamers to other small, competent fingers. In and out, in and out – a most complicated dance. It was pleasant to find that one’s feet knew it, though one’s brain could not have foreseen, any more than it could have remembered, how the figures went. There were two rings round the Maypole – the inner ring, where Edred and Elfrida were, of noble children in very fine clothes, and the outer ring, of village children in clothes less fine but quite as pretty. Music from a band of musicians on a raised platform decked with May-boughs and swinging cowslip balls inspired the dancers. The King and Queen had reined up their horses and watched the play, well pleased.
And suddenly the dance ended and the children, formed into line, were saluting the royal onlookers.
‘A fair dance and footed right featly,’ said the King in a great, jolly voice. ‘Now get you wind, my merry men all, and give us a song for the honour of the May Queen and of my dear lady here.’
There was whispering and discussion. Then Richard Arden stepped out in front of the group of green-clad noble children.
‘With a willing heart, my liege,’ he said, ‘but first a song of the King’s good Majesty.’
And with that all the children began to sing:
‘The hunt is up, the hunt is up,
And it is well-nigh day,
And Harry our King is gone a-hunting
To bring his deer to bay.’
It is a rousing tune, and it was only afterwards that Edred and Elfrida were surprised to find that they knew it quite well.
But even while they were singing Elfrida was turning over in her mind the old question, Could anything they did have any effect on the past? It seemed impossible that it should not be so. If one could get a word alone with that happy, stately lady on the white horse, if one could warn her, could help somehow! The thought of the bare scaffold and the black block came to Elfrida so strongly that she almost thought she saw them darkling among the swayed, sun-dappled leaves of the greenwood.
Somebody was pulling at her green skirt. An old woman in a cap that fitted tightly and hid all her hair – an old woman who was saying, ‘Go to her! go!’ and pushing her forward. Some one else put a big bunch of wild flowers into her hand, and this person also pushed her forward. And forward she had to go, quite alone, the nosegay in her hand, across the open space of greensward under the eyes of several hundreds of people, all in their best clothes and all watching her.
She went on till she came to the spot where the King and Queen were, and then she paused and dropped two curtsies, one to each of them. Then, quite without meaning to do it, she found herself saying:
‘May-day! May-day!
This is the happy play day!
All the woods with flowers are gay,
Lords and ladies, come and play!