The Wishing-Chair Again (16 page)

“I don't want to stay out in the passage,” said Winks, looking nervously at Mr. Piggle-Pie's shut door. “I'll be very good and quiet and helpful if you'll let me come in.”

“Who is it standing gossiping at the door?” suddenly called an annoyed voice. “Tell them either to go or to come in.”

“You'd better come in and wait for Mr. Spells,” said Cinders. So they all trooped in and Cinders shut the door. Winks was quite glad to be out of the passage, away from a possibly furious Mr. Piggle-Pie.

The cat led them into a remarkably big room, with three windows. The children were so astonished to see what the windows looked out on that they quite forgot their manners for the moment, and didn't greet the bent old lady who sat in a chair in the middle of the room.

One window looked out on the sea! Yes, the sea, as blue as could be! Another looked out on a sunny hillside. The third looked out on an ordinary backyard, where washing was blowing in the wind. Most extraordinary.

“Well! “ said rather a peevish voice, “have the children of today no manners at all? Can't you even say how do you do to an old lady?”

“Oh, dear,” said Mollie, ashamed of herself. “Please, Mrs. Spells, I'm so sorry—do forgive us—but it did seem so extraordinary seeing three windows like this—in an underground room—and one looking out on the sea, too. Why, I thought the sea was miles and miles away!”

“Things aren't always what they seem,” said Mrs. Spells. “What is miles away for you, may be quite near for me. Now, what was all this noise about at my front door? When I was younger I would have turned you all into pattering mice and given you to Cinders, for making a noise of that sort in a respectable place like this!”

“Madam,” said the cat, seeing that the old lady was working herself up into a temper, “Madam, these children know Mr. Spells, your son.”

The old lady beamed at once. “Oh, do you know my son? Why didn't you tell me that at once? Cinders, some strawberryade, please, with strawberry ice, and some strawberry biscuits.”

This sounded exciting—and when it came, beautifully arranged on a large silver tray by Cinders, it was just as exciting as it sounded!

It was a pink drink made of strawberry juice. In it were pieces of ice shaped like strawberries, and the biscuit had tiny sugar strawberries in the middle!

“This is lovely,” said Peter. “Thank you very much.”

There came the sound of a key in the door. “Ah— my son, Mr. Spells!” said Mrs. Spells. “Here he is!”

And there he was again, just the same as before, tall and commanding, but this time dressed in a long green cloak that shimmered like water. He looked very surprised indeed to see the visitors.

“Why—I've seen you before!” he said to the children. “How are you? Quite well, I hope. And let me see—have I seen this brownie before? Yes—I have. Aren't you the bad fellow who turned all his grandmother's pigs blue? Isn't your name Winks?”

“Yes, Mr. Spells, sir,” said Winks, trying his best to hide behind Mollie and Peter.

“I hope you got spanked for that,” said Mr. Spells. “I had a terrible job turning the pigs back to their right colour again. I believe they've still got blue tails.”

Winks wished the floor would
open
and swallow him up, but it didn't. Mr. Spells turned to Peter.

“Well, have you come visiting my dear old mother?” he said. “She's a wonder at spells, you know—she taught me most of what I know.”

Peter explained how it was they were in his mother's room. Then he told the enchanter about poor Chinky and the chair.

“Good gracious! “ said Mr. Spells. “We must certainly find out where that chair has gone. If it falls into the hands of some rogue he can use it for all kinds of wrong purposes. And Chinky, too—what a silly thing to do, to tie his foot to the chair! Why didn't he tie the chair to the door-handle, or something like that?”

“We didn't think of that,” said Peter. “Can you help us to find out where the chair is, and Chinky, too, Mr. Spells?”

“Of course,” said Mr. Spells. “Now, let me think for a moment. This happened at night, you say—and the chair, as usual, flew up into the sky?”

“Yes,” said everyone.

“Well, then—who was about that night in the sky, who might possibly have seen the chair and Chinky?” said Mr. Spells thoughtfully.

“Hoot, the owl,” said the old lady at once,

“Quite right, Mother,” said Mr. Spells. “Splendid idea. We'll call Hoot, the owl, and see if he knows anything about this. He's a very wise and observant bird, you know,” he said, turning to the children. “Never misses anything that goes on at night,”

“Shall we go and ask him if he knows anything, then?” said Mollie. “Where does he live?”

“Oh, we'll get him here,” said Mr. Spells. “That's the easiest way. I'll go and call him.”

He went to the window that looked out on the sunny hillside. He clapped his hands three times and muttered a word so magic that Winks trembled in his shoes. And a very curious thing happened. The sunny hillside went dark—as dark as night —and behind the trees shone a little moon! It was all very peculiar, especially as the sun still shone out in the backyard and on the sea that could be seen from the other windows!

“I must make it dark, or the owl won't come,” explained Mr. Spells. “Now I'll call him.”

He put his hands up to his mouth, placed his thumbs carefully together, and blew gently—and, to the children's delight and surprise, the hoot of an owl came from his closed hands. ''Ooo-ooo-oooo-oooh! Ooo-ooo-ooh!”

“What a wonderful spell!” said Peter.

“That's no spell!” said the enchanter. “Why, anyone can do that. Look how I put my hands! Now you try!”

So Peter tried—and then he blew into his closed hands, between his two thumbs very gently—and, lo and behold, the hoot of an owl came from his hands, too. It was marvellous!

An answering hoot came from outside the window. A dark shadow passed across the room. Then a big owl flew silently down and perched on Mr. Spells' shoulder. He caressed the big-eyed creature, whilst Cinders looked on rather jealously.

“Hoot,” said Mr. Spells. “Listen carefully. Two nights ago a Wishing-Chair flew off into the sky, and hanging to it by a rope tied to his foot was a pixie called Chinky. Did you see anything of this?”

“Ooooooo-ooo-ooo! Oooooo-oo! Ooooh! Ooo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooooooooh!” answered the owl, hooting softly into Mr. Spells' ear.

“Thank you, Hoot,” said Mr. Spells, looking grave. “You may go.”

The owl flew off silently. Mr. Spells waited a moment and then muttered another magic word. The moonlit hillside grew lighter and lighter—and, hey presto, it was the sun behind the trees now and not the moon— daylight was everywhere!

“What did the owl tell you?” asked Peter.

“Oh—I forgot you couldn't understand,” said Mr. Spells. “Well, he saw the chair—and Chinky, too, dangling by his foot. He followed them out of curiosity—and he says they flew near the Wandering Castle, where Giant Twisty lives, and the giant must have seen them and captured them. He saw no more of them after that.”

This was very bad news indeed. “Oh, dear—whatever are we going to do, then?” said Peter at last. “Poor little Chinky!”

“I must help you,” said Mr. Spells. “I can't let Twisty own that chair. Sit down. We must think of a plan!”

“We can't do anything this evening,” said Mr. Spells. “That's quite certain. Anyway, the first thing to do is to find out where the Wandering Castle is.”

“Don't you know?” said Mollie, in surprise.

“I know where it was last year, and the year before, and even last month,” said Mr. Spells, “but I don't know where it is now. It may have wandered anywhere.”

“Oh—does it move about?” asked Peter in amazement.

“Good gracious, yes! It's always wandering,” said the enchanter. “One day it may be here, the next it's somewhere else. Giant Twisty finds that very useful because he's always getting into trouble because of his bad ways, and it's very convenient to have a castle that can slip away in the night.”

“It's going to be very difficult to find, isn't it?” said Mollie. “I mean, even if we find out where it is now, it may not be there when we get there.”

“True. But there's a chance it may rest in the same place for some weeks,” said Mr. Spells. “We must chance that.
Winks,
what are you doing?”

Winks jumped. “Just—just stirring this stuff in the pot,” he said.

“Look at your hands! “ thundered Mr. Spells. “You've been dipping them in—and now see what you've done! Meddlesome little brownie!”

Winks looked at his hands. Oh, dear, they were bright blue! He stared at them in horror.

“Now you know what your grandmother's pigs must have felt like when you turned them blue,” said the enchanter. “Well, keep your blue hands. Every time you look at them you can say to yourself, 'I must not meddle. I must not meddle.'”

Winks put his hands into his pockets, looking very doleful. “Blue-hand, the Brownie,” said Peter. “Oh, Winks, you're always into some mischief or other. Can't you be good even for a little while?”

“Well, children,” said Mr. Spells, “I think you'd better leave things to me tonight. I'll do my best to find out where the Wandering Castle happens to be at the moment and we will make a good plan to get back the chair and Chinky. Can you come along early tomorrow morning?”

“Yes. We'll ask mother to let us go out for the day,” said Peter. “Come on, Mollie. Thank you, Mr. Spells, for your help. Goodbye, Mrs. Spells. Goodbye, Cinders.

“You can go out of this door if you like,” said the enchanter, and the children suddenly saw a small silver door gleaming in the wall near the window that looked out on the hillside. They were sure it hadn't been there before. Cinders opened it for them.

He bowed politely to the children, but dug a claw into Winks, who yelled and shot outside in a hurry. Winks shook a bright blue fist at the cat.

“Oh, dear, look at your hands,” said Mollie. “I do hope, Winks, that the blue will fade. You really do look awful.”

“Where are we?” said Peter, as they walked down the hillside, now filling with shadows as the sun sank low. “Goodness—why, there's our garden!”

So it was, just nearby. How very extraordinary.

“If only people knew how near their gardens are to curious and wonderful places, how surprised they would be!” said Mollie, walking in at their side-gate, and going to the playroom. “Well, we can take that short cut tomorrow. I do wonder how it is that the sea is outside that other window. I just simply can't understand that!”

They said goodbye to Winks, who had tried in vain to wash the blue off his hands under the garden-tap. Then off they went to ask their mother if they could have the whole day to themselves tomorrow. She said, Yes, of course they could! It would do them good to go into the country in the lovely summer weather they were having now.

“Well, I don't know what Mother would say if she knew we were going to hunt for Giant Twisty in his Wandering Castle!” said Peter. “I suppose she just wouldn't believe it.”

The next day the children had breakfast very early indeed, and then set off down the garden to collect Winks. His hands were still as blue as ever, so he had put on a pair of gloves.