CHAPTER V
"SEARCH and research proving vain," said Gerald, when every corner ofthe bedroom had been turned out and the ring had not been found, "thenoble detective hero of our tale remarked that he would have other fishto fry in half a jiff, and if the rest of you want to hear about lastnight...."
"Let's keep it till we get to Mabel," said Kathleen heroically.
"The assignation was ten-thirty, wasn't it? Why shouldn't Gerald gas aswe go along? I don't suppose anything very much happened, anyhow." This,of course, was Jimmy.
"That shows," remarked Gerald sweetly, "how much _you_ know. Themelancholy Mabel will await the tryst without success, as far as thisone is concerned. 'Fish, fish, other fish--other fish I fry!'" hewarbled to the tune of "Cherry Ripe," till Kathleen could have pinchedhim.
Jimmy turned coldly away, remarking, "When you've quite done."
But Gerald went on singing--
"'Where the lips of Johnson smile, There's the land of Cherry Isle. Other fish, other fish, Fish I fry. Stately Johnson, come and buy!'"
"How can you," asked Kathleen, "be so aggravating?"
"I don't know," said Gerald, returning to prose. "Want of sleep orintoxication--of success, I mean. Come where no one can hear us.
"Oh, come to some island where no one can hear, And beware of the keyhole that's glued to an ear,"
he whispered, opened the door suddenly, and there, sure enough, wasEliza, stooping without. She flicked feebly at the wainscot with aduster, but concealment was vain.
"You know what listeners never hear," said Jimmy severely.
"I didn't, then--so there!" said Eliza, whose listening ears werecrimson. So they passed out, and up the High Street, to sit on thechurchyard wall and dangle their legs. And all the way Gerald's lipswere shut into a thin, obstinate line.
"_Now_," said Kathleen. "Oh, Jerry, don't be a goat! I'm simply dying tohear what happened."
"That's better," said Gerald, and he told his story. As he told it someof the white mystery and magic of the moonlit gardens got into his voiceand his words, so that when he told of the statues that came alive, andthe great beast that was alive through all its stone, Kathleen thrilledresponsive, clutching his arm, and even Jimmy ceased to kick the wallwith his boot heels, and listened open-mouthed.
Then came the thrilling tale of the burglars, and the warning letterflung into the peaceful company of Mabel, her aunt, and thebread-and-butter pudding. Gerald told the story with the greatestenjoyment and such fulness of detail that the church clock chimedhalf-past eleven as he said, "Having done all that human agency coulddo, and further help being despaired of, our gallant young detective----Hullo, there's Mabel!"
There was. The tail-board of a cart shed her almost at their feet.
"I couldn't wait any longer," she explained, "when you didn't come. AndI got a lift. Has anything more happened? The burglars had gone whenBates got to the strong-room."
"You don't mean to say all that wheeze is _real_?" Jimmy asked.
"Of course it's real," said Kathleen. "Go on, Jerry. He's just got towhere he threw the stone into your bread-and-butter pudding, Mabel. Goon."
Mabel climbed on to the wall. "You've got visible again quicker than Idid," she said.
Gerald nodded and resumed:
"Our story must be told in as few words as possible, owing to thefish-frying taking place at twelve, and it's past the half-hour now.Having left his missive to do its warning work, Gerald de SherlockHolmes sped back, wrapped in invisibility, to the spot where by thelight of their dark-lanterns the burglars were still--still burglingwith the utmost punctuality and despatch. I didn't see any sense inrunning into danger, so I just waited outside the passage where thesteps are--you know?"
Mabel nodded.
"Presently they came out, very cautiously, of course, and looked aboutthem. They didn't see me--so deeming themselves unobserved they passedin silent Indian file along the passage--one of the sacks of silvergrazed my front part--and out into the night."
"But which way?"
"Through the little looking-glass room where you looked at yourself whenyou were invisible. The hero followed swiftly on his invisibletennis-shoes. The three miscreants instantly sought the shelter of thegroves and passed stealthily among the rhododendrons and across thepark, and"--his voice dropped and he looked straight before him at thepinky convolvulus netting a heap of stones beyond the white dust of theroad--"the stone things that come alive, they kept looking out frombetween bushes and under trees--and _I_ saw them all right, but theydidn't see me. They saw the burglars though, right enough; but theburglars couldn't see them. Rum, wasn't it?"
"The stone things?" Mabel had to have them explained to her.
"_I_ never saw them come alive," she said, "and I've been in the gardensin the evening as often as often."
"_I_ saw them," said Gerald stiffly.
"I know, I know," Mabel hastened to put herself right with him: "what Imean to say is I shouldn't wonder if they're only visible when you're_in_visible--the liveness of them, I mean, not the stoniness."
Gerald understood, and I'm sure I hope you do.
"I shouldn't wonder if you're right," he said. "The castle garden'senchanted right enough; but what I should like to know is _how_ and why.I say, come on, I've got to catch Johnson before twelve. We'll walk asfar as the market and then we'll have to run for it."
"But go on with the adventure," said Mabel. "You can talk as we go. Oh,do--it is so awfully thrilling!"
This pleased Gerald, of course.
"Well, I just followed, you know, like in a dream, and they got out thecavy way--you know, where we got in--and I jolly well thought I'd lostthem; I had to wait till they'd moved off down the road so that theyshouldn't hear me rattling the stones, and I had to tear to catch themup. I took my shoes off--I expect my stockings are done for. And Ifollowed and followed and followed and they went through the place wherethe poor people live, and right down to the river. And---- I say, wemust run for it."
So the story stopped and the running began.
They caught Johnson in his own back-yard washing at a bench against hisown back-door.
"Look here, Johnson," Gerald said, "what'll you give me if I put you upto winning that fifty pounds reward?"
"Halves," said Johnson promptly, "and a clout 'longside your head if youwas coming any of your nonsense over me."
"It's _not_ nonsense," said Gerald very impressively. "If you'll let usin I'll tell you all about it. And when you've caught the burglars andgot the swag back you just give me a quid for luck. I won't ask formore."
"Come along in, then," said Johnson, "if the young ladies'll excuse thetowel. But I bet you _do_ want something more off of me. Else why notclaim the reward yourself?"
"Great is the wisdom of Johnson--he speaks winged words." The childrenwere all in the cottage now, and the door was shut. "I want you never tolet on who told you. Let them think it was your own unaided pluck andfarsightedness."
"Sit you down," said Johnson, "and if you're kidding you'd best send thelittle gells home afore I begin on you."
"LOOK HERE, JOHNSON," GERALD SAID, "WHAT'LL YOU GIVE MEIF I PUT YOU UP TO WINNING THAT FIFTY POUNDS REWARD?"]
"I am not kidding," replied Gerald loftily, "never less. And any one buta policeman would see why I don't want any one to know it was me. Ifound it out at dead of night, in a place where I wasn't supposed to be;and there'd be a beastly row if they found out at home about me beingout nearly all night. _Now_ do you see, my bright-eyed daisy?"
Johnson was now too interested, as Jimmy said afterwards, to mind whatsilly names he was called. He said he did see--and asked to see more.
"Well, don't you ask any questions, then. I'll tell you all it's goodfor you to know. Last night about eleven I was at Yalding Towers. No--itdoesn't matter how I got there or what I got there for--and there was awindow open and I got in, and there was a light. And it was in thestron
g-room, and there were three men, putting silver in a bag."
"Was it you give the warning, and they sent for the police?" Johnson wasleaning eagerly forward, a hand on each knee.
"Yes, that was me. You can let them think it was you, if you like. Youwere off duty, weren't you?"
"I was," said Johnson, "in the arms of Murphy----"
"Well, the police didn't come quick enough. But _I_ was there--a lonelydetective. And I followed them."
"You did?"
"And I saw them hide the booty and I know the other stuff from HoughtonCourt's in the same place, and I heard them arrange about when to takeit away."
"Come and show me where," said Johnson, jumping up so quickly that hisWindsor arm-chair fell over backwards, with a crack, on the red-brickfloor.
"Not so," said Gerald calmly; "if you go near the spot before theappointed time you'll find the silver, but you'll never catch thethieves."
"You're right there." The policeman picked up his chair and sat down init again. "Well?"
"Well, there's to be a motor to meet them in the lane beyond theboat-house by Sadler's Rents at one o'clock to-night. They'll get thethings out at half-past twelve and take them along in a boat. So now'syour chance to fill your pockets with chink and cover yourself withhonour and glory."
"So help me!"--Johnson was pensive and doubtful still--"so help me! you_couldn't_ have made all this up out of your head."
"Oh yes, I could. But I didn't. Now look here. It's the chance of yourlifetime, Johnson! A quid for me, and a still tongue for you, and thejob's done. Do you agree?"
"Oh, _I_ agree right enough," said Johnson. "I _agree_. But if you'recoming any of your larks----"
"Can't you _see_ he isn't?" Kathleen put in impatiently. "He's not aliar--we none of us are."
"If you're not on, say so," said Gerald, "and I'll find anotherpoliceman with more sense."
"I could split about you being out all night," said Johnson.
"But you wouldn't be so ungentlemanly," said Mabel brightly. "Don't yoube so unbelieving, when we're trying to do you a good turn."
"If I were you," Gerald advised, "I'd go to the place where the silveris, with two other men. You could make a nice little ambush in thewood-yard--it's close there. And I'd have two or three more men up treesin the lane to wait for the motor-car."
"You ought to have been in the force, you ought," said Johnsonadmiringly; "but s'pose it _was_ a hoax!"
"Well, then you'd have made an ass of yourself--I don't suppose it ud bethe first time," said Jimmy.
"Are you on?" said Gerald in haste. "Hold your jaw, Jimmy, you idiot!"
"_Yes_," said Johnson.
"Then when you're on duty you go down to the wood-yard, and the placewhere you see me blow my nose is _the_ place. The sacks are tied withstring to the posts under the water. You just stalk by in your dignifiedbeauty and make a note of the spot. That's where glory waits you, andwhen Fame elates you and you're a sergeant, please remember me."
Johnson said he was blessed. He said it more than once, and thenremarked that he was on, and added that he must be off that instantminute.
Johnson's cottage lies just out of the town beyond the blacksmith'sforge and the children had come to it through the wood. They went backthe same way, and then down through the town, and through its narrow,unsavoury streets to the towing-path by the timber yard. Here they ranalong the trunks of the big trees, peeped into the saw-pit, and--the menwere away at dinner and this was a favourite play place of every boywithin miles--made themselves a see-saw with a fresh cut, sweet-smellingpine plank and an elm-root.
"What a ripping place!" said Mabel, breathless on the see-saw's end. "Ibelieve I like this better than pretending games or even magic."
"So do I," said Jimmy. "Jerry, don't keep sniffing so--you'll have nonose left."
"I can't help it," Gerald answered: "I daren't use my hankey for fearJohnson's on the look-out somewhere unseen. I wish I'd thought of someother signal." Sniff! "No, nor I shouldn't want to now if I hadn't gotnot to. That's what's so rum. The moment I got down here and rememberedwhat I'd said about the signal I began to have a cold--and---- Thankgoodness! here he is."
The children, with a fine air of unconcern, abandoned the see-saw.
"Follow my leader!" Gerald cried, and ran along a barked oak trunk, theothers following. In and out and round about ran the file of children,over heaps of logs, under the jutting ends of piled planks, and just asthe policeman's heavy boots trod the towing-path Gerald halted at theend of a little landing-stage of rotten boards, with a ricketyhandrail, cried "Pax!" and blew his nose with loud fervour.
"Morning," he said immediately.
"Morning," said Johnson. "Got a cold, aint you?"
"Ah! I shouldn't have a cold if I'd got boots like yours," returnedGerald admiringly. "Look at them. Any one ud know your fairy footstep amile off. How do you ever get near enough to any one to arrest them?" Heskipped off the landing-stage, whispered as he passed Johnson, "Courage,promptitude, and despatch. That's the place," and was off again, theactive leader of an active procession.
"We've brought a friend home to dinner," said Kathleen, when Elizaopened the door. "Where's Mademoiselle?"
"Gone to see Yalding Towers. To-day's show day, you know. An' just youhurry over your dinners. It's my afternoon out, and my gentleman frienddon't like it if he's kept waiting."
"All right, we'll eat like lightning," Gerald promised. "Set anotherplace, there's an angel."
They kept their word. The dinner--it was minced veal and potatoes andrice-pudding, perhaps the dullest food in the world--was over in aquarter of an hour.
"And now," said Mabel, when Eliza and a jug of hot water had disappearedup the stairs together, "where's the ring? I ought to put it back."
GERALD HALTED AT THE END OF A LITTLE LANDING-STAGE OFROTTEN BOARDS.]
"I haven't had a turn yet," said Jimmy. "When we find it Cathy and Iought to have turns same as you and Gerald did."
"When you find it----?" Mabel's pale face turned paler between her darklocks.
"I'm very sorry--we're all very sorry," began Kathleen, and then thestory of the losing had to be told.
"You couldn't have looked properly," Mabel protested. "It can't havevanished."
"You don't know what it can do--no more do we. It's no use getting yourquills up, fair lady. Perhaps vanishing itself is just what it does do.You see, it came off my hand in the bed. We looked everywhere."
"Would you mind if _I_ looked?" Mabel's eyes implored her littlehostess. "You see, if it's lost it's my fault. It's almost the same asstealing. That Johnson would say it was just the same. I know he would."
"Let's all look again," said Mabel, jumping up. "We _were_ rather in ahurry this morning."
So they looked, and they looked. In the bed, under the bed, under thecarpet, under the furniture. They shook the curtains, they explored thecorners, and found dust and flue, but no ring. They looked, and theylooked. Everywhere they looked. Jimmy even looked fixedly at theceiling, as though he thought the ring might have bounced up there andstuck. But it hadn't.
"Then," said Mabel at last, "your housemaid must have stolen it. That'sall. I shall tell her I think so."
And she would have done it too, but at that moment the front door bangedand they knew that Eliza had gone forth in all the glory of her bestthings to meet her "gentleman friend."
"It's no use"--Mabel was almost in tears; "look here--will you leave mealone? Perhaps you others looking distracts me. And I'll go over everyinch of the room by myself."
"Respecting the emotion of their guest, the kindly charcoal-burnerswithdrew," said Gerald. And they closed the door softly from the outsideon Mabel and her search.
They waited for her, of course--politeness demanded it, and besides,they had to stay at home to let Mademoiselle in; though it was adazzling day, and Jimmy had just remembered that Gerald's pockets werefull of the money earned at the fair, and that nothing had yet beenbought with that money, except a few
buns in which he had had no share.And of course they waited impatiently.
It seemed about an hour, and was really quite ten minutes, before theyheard the bedroom door open and Mabel's feet on the stairs.
"She hasn't found it," Gerald said.
"How do you know?" Jimmy asked.
"The way she walks," said Gerald. You can, in fact, almost always tellwhether the thing has been found that people have gone to look for bythe sound of their feet as they return. Mabel's feet said "No go," asplain as they could speak. And her face confirmed the cheerless news.
A sudden and violent knocking at the back door prevented any one fromhaving to be polite about how sorry they were, or fanciful about beingsure the ring would turn up soon.
All the servants except Eliza were away on their holidays, so thechildren went together to open the door, because, as Gerald said, if itwas the baker they could buy a cake from him and eat it for dessert."That kind of dinner sort of _needs_ dessert," he said.
But it was not the baker. When they opened the door they saw in thepaved court where the pump is, and the dust-bin, and the water-butt, ayoung man, with his hat very much on one side, his mouth open under hisfair bristly moustache, and his eyes as nearly round as human eyes canbe. He wore a suit of a bright mustard colour, a blue necktie, and agoldish watch-chain across his waistcoat. His body was thrown back andhis right arm stretched out towards the door, and his expression wasthat of a person who is being dragged somewhere against his will. Helooked so strange that Kathleen tried to shut the door in his face,murmuring, "Escaped insane." But the door would not close. There wassomething in the way.
"Leave go of me!" said the young man.
"Ho yus! I'll leave go of you!" It was the voice of Eliza--but no Elizacould be seen.
"Who's got hold of you?" asked Kathleen.
"_She_ has, miss," replied the unhappy stranger.
"Who's she?" asked Kathleen, to gain time, as she afterwards explained,for she now knew well enough that what was keeping the door open wasEliza's unseen foot.
"My fyongsay, miss. At least it sounds like her voice, and it feels likeher bones, but something's come over me, miss, an' I can't see her."
"That's what he keeps on saying," said Eliza's voice. "E's my gentlemanfriend; is 'e gone dotty, or is it me?"
"Both, I shouldn't wonder," said Jimmy.
"Now," said Eliza, "you call yourself a man; you look me in the face andsay you can't see me."
"Well--I can't," said the wretched gentleman friend.
"If _I'd_ stolen a ring," said Gerald, looking at the sky, "I should goindoors and be quiet, not stand at the back door and make an exhibitionof myself."
"Not much exhibition about her," whispered Jimmy; "good old ring!"
"I haven't stolen _any_thing," said the gentleman friend. "Here, youleave me be. It's my eyes has gone wrong. Leave go of me, d'ye hear?"
Suddenly his hand dropped and he staggered back against the water-butt.Eliza had "left go" of him. She pushed past the children, shoving themaside with her invisible elbows. Gerald caught her by the arm with onehand, felt for her ear with the other, and whispered. "You stand stilland don't say a word. If you do----well, what's to stop me from sendingfor the police?"
HE STAGGERED BACK AGAINST THE WATER-BUTT.]
Eliza did not know what there was to stop him. So she did as she wastold, and stood invisible and silent, save for a sort of blowing,snorting noise peculiar to her when she was out of breath.
The mustard-coloured young man had recovered his balance, and stoodlooking at the children with eyes, if possible, rounder than before.
"What _is_ it?" he gasped feebly. "What's up? What's it all about?"
"If you don't know, I'm afraid we can't tell you," said Gerald politely.
"Have I been talking very strange-like?" he asked, taking off his hatand passing his hand over his forehead.
"Very," said Mabel.
"I hope I haven't said anything that wasn't good manners," he saidanxiously.
"Not at all," said Kathleen. "You only said your _fiancee_ had hold ofyour hand, and that you couldn't see her."
"No more I can."
"No more can we," said Mabel.
"But I couldn't have dreamed it, and then come along here making a pennyshow of myself like this, could I?"
"You know best," said Gerald courteously.
"But," the mustard-coloured victim almost screamed, "do you mean to tellme...."
"I don't mean to tell you anything," said Gerald quite truly, "but I'llgive you a bit of advice. You go home and lie down a bit and put a wetrag on your head. You'll be all right to-morrow."
"But I haven't----"
"_I_ should," said Mabel; "the sun's very hot, you know."
"I feel all right now," he said, "but--well, I can only say I'm sorry,that's all I can say. I've never been taken like this before, miss. I'mnot subject to it--don't you think that. But I could have swornEliza---- Aint she gone out to meet me?"
"Eliza's indoors," said Mabel. "She can't come out to meet anybodyto-day."
"You won't tell her about me carrying on this way, will you, miss? Itmight set her against me if she thought I was liable to fits, which Inever was from a child."
"We won't tell Eliza anything about you."
"And you'll overlook the liberty?"
"Of course. We know you couldn't help it," said Kathleen. "You go homeand lie down. I'm sure you must need it. Good-afternoon."
"Good-afternoon, I'm sure, miss," he said dreamily. "All the same I canfeel the print of her finger-bones on my hand while I'm saying it. Andyou won't let it get round to my boss--my employer I mean? Fits of allsorts are against a man in any trade."
"No, no, no, it's all right--_goodbye_," said every one. And a silencefell as he went slowly round the water-butt and the green yard-gate shutbehind him. The silence was broken by Eliza.
"Give me up!" she said. "Give me up to break my heart in a prison cell!"
There was a sudden splash, and a round wet drop lay on the doorstep.
"Thunder shower," said Jimmy; but it was a tear from Eliza.
"Give me up," she went on, "give me up"--splash--"but don't let me betook here in the town where I'm known and respected"--splash. "I'll walkten miles to be took by a strange police--not Johnson as keeps companywith my own cousin"--splash. "But I do thank you for one thing. Youdidn't tell Elf as I'd stolen the ring. And I didn't"--splash--"I onlysort of borrowed it, it being my day out, and my gentleman friend such atoff, like you can see for yourselves."
The children had watched, spellbound, the interesting tears that becamevisible as they rolled off the invisible nose of the miserable Eliza.Now Gerald roused himself, and spoke.
"It's no use your talking," he said. "We can't see you!"
"That's what _he_ said," said Eliza's voice, "but----"
"You can't see yourself," Gerald, went on. "Where's your hand?"
Eliza, no doubt, tried to see it, and of course failed; for instantly,with a shriek that might have brought the police if there had been anyabout, she went into a violent fit of hysterics. The children did whatthey could, everything that they had read of in books as suitable tosuch occasions, but it is extremely difficult to do the right thing withan invisible housemaid in strong hysterics and her best clothes. Thatwas why the best hat was found, later on, to be completely ruined, andwhy the best blue dress was never quite itself again. And as they wereburning bits of the feather dusting-brush as nearly under Eliza's noseas they could guess, a sudden spurt of flame and a horrible smell, asthe flame died between the quick hands of Gerald, showed but too plainlythat Eliza's feather boa had tried to help.
It did help. Eliza "came to" with a deep sob and said, "Don't burn mereal ostrich stole; I'm better now."
They helped her up and she sat down on the bottom step, and the childrenexplained to her very carefully and quite kindly that she really wasinvisible, and that if you steal--or even borrow--rings you can never besure what will happen to you.
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"But 'ave I got to go on stopping like this," she moaned, when they hadfetched the little mahogany looking-glass from its nail over the kitchensink, and convinced her that she was really invisible, "for ever andever? An' we was to a bin married come Easter. No one won't marry a gellas 'e can't see. It aint likely."
"No, not for ever and ever," said Mabel kindly, "but you've got to gothrough with it--like measles. I expect you'll be all right to-morrow."
"To-night, _I_ think," said Gerald.
"We'll help you all we can, and not tell any one," said Kathleen.
"Not even the police," said Jimmy.
"Now let's get Mademoiselle's tea ready," said Gerald.
"And ours," said Jimmy.
"No," said Gerald, "we'll have our tea _out_. We'll have a picnic andwe'll take Eliza. I'll go out and get the cakes."
"_I_ shan't eat no cake, Master Jerry," said Eliza's voice, "so don'tyou think it. You'd see it going down inside my chest. It wouldn't bewhat I should call nice of me to have cake showing through me in theopen air. Oh, it's a dreadful judgment--just for a borrow!"
They reassured her, set the tea, deputed Kathleen to let inMademoiselle--who came home tired and a little sad, it seemed--waitedfor her and Gerald and the cakes, and started off for Yalding Towers.
"Picnic parties aren't allowed," said Mabel.
"Ours will be," said Gerald briefly. "Now, Eliza, you catch on toKathleen's arm and I'll walk behind to conceal your shadow. My aunt!take your hat off. It makes your shadow look like I don't know what.People will think we're the county lunatic asylum turned loose."
It was then that the hat, becoming visible in Kathleen's hand, showedhow little of the sprinkled water had gone where it was meant to go--onEliza's face.
"Me best 'at," said Eliza, and there was a silence with sniffs in it.
"Look here," said Mabel, "you cheer up. Just you think this is all adream. It's just the kind of thing you might dream if your consciencehad got pains in it about the ring."
"But will I wake up again?"
"Oh yes, you'll wake up again. Now we're going to bandage your eyes andtake you through a very small door, and don't you resist, or we'll bringa policeman into the dream like a shot."
I have not time to describe Eliza's entrance into the cave. She wenthead first: the girls propelled and the boys received her. If Gerald hadnot thought of tying her hands some one would certainly have beenscratched. As it was Mabel's hand was scraped between the cold rock anda passionate boot-heel. Nor will I tell you all that she said as theyled her along the fern-bordered gully and through the arch into thewonderland of Italian scenery. She had but little language left whenthey removed her bandage under a weeping willow where a statue of Diana,bow in hand, stood poised on one toe, a most unsuitable attitude forarchery, I have always thought.
"Now," said Gerald, "it's all over--nothing but niceness now and cakeand things."
"It's time we did have our tea," said Jimmy. And it was.
Eliza, once convinced that her chest, though invisible, was nottransparent, and that her companions could not by looking through itcount how many buns she had eaten, made an excellent meal. So did theothers. If you want really to enjoy your tea, have minced veal andpotatoes and rice-pudding for dinner, with several hours of excitementto follow, and take your tea late.
The soft, cool green and grey of the garden were changing--the greengrew golden, the shadows black, and the lake where the swans weremirrored upside down, under the Temple of Phoebus, was bathed in rosylight from the little fluffy clouds that lay opposite the sunset.
"It _is_ pretty," said Eliza, "just like a picture-postcard, aintit?--the tuppenny kind."
"I ought to be getting home," said Mabel.
"I can't go home like this. I'd stay and be a savage and live in thatwhite hut if it had any walls and doors," said Eliza.
"She means the Temple of Dionysus," said Mabel, pointing to it.
The sun set suddenly behind the line of black fir-trees on the top ofthe slope, and the white temple, that had been pink, turned grey.
"It would be a very nice place to live in even as it is," said Kathleen.
"Draughty," said Eliza, "and law, what a lot of steps to clean! Whatthey make houses for without no walls to 'em? Who'd live in----" Shebroke off, stared, and added: "What's that?"
"What?"
"That white thing coming down the steps. Why, it's a young man instatooary."
"The statues do come alive here, after sunset," said Gerald in verymatter-of-fact tones.
"I see they do." Eliza did not seem at all surprised or alarmed."There's another of 'em. Look at them little wings to his feet likepigeons."
"I expect that's Mercury," said Gerald.
"It's 'Hermes' under the statue that's got wings on its feet," saidMabel, "but----"
"_I_ don't see any statues," said Jimmy. "What are you punching me for?"
"Don't you see?" Gerald whispered; but he need not have been sotroubled, for all Eliza's attention was with her wandering eyes thatfollowed hither and thither the quick movements of unseen statues."Don't you see? The statues come alive when the sun goes down--and youcan't see them unless you're invisible--and _I_--if you _do_ see themyou're not frightened--unless you _touch_ them."
"Let's get her to touch one and see," said Jimmy.
"'E's lep' into the water," said Eliza in a rapt voice. "My, can't heswim neither! And the one with the pigeons' wings is flying all over thelake having larks with 'im. I do call that pretty. It's like cupids asyou see on wedding-cakes. And here's another of 'em, a little chap withlong ears and a baby deer galloping alongside! An' look at the lady withthe biby, throwing it up and catching it like as if it was a ball. Iwonder she ain't afraid. But it's pretty to see 'em."
"'E'S LEP' INTO THE WATER," SAID ELIZA IN A RAPT VOICE."MY, CAN'T HE SWIM NEITHER!"]
The broad park lay stretched before the children in growing greyness anda stillness that deepened. Amid the thickening shadows they could seethe statues gleam white and motionless. But Eliza saw other things. Shewatched in silence presently, and they watched silently, and the eveningfell like a veil that grew heavier and blacker. And it was night. Andthe moon came up above the trees.
"Oh," cried Eliza suddenly, "here's the dear little boy with thedeer--he's coming right for me, bless his heart!"
Next moment she was screaming, and her screams grew fainter and therewas the sound of swift boots on gravel.
"Come on!" cried Gerald; "she touched it, and then she was frightened.Just like I was. Run! she'll send every one in the town mad if she getsthere like that. Just a voice and boots! Run! Run!"
They ran. But Eliza had the start of them. Also when she ran on thegrass they could not hear her footsteps and had to wait for the sound ofleather on far-away gravel. Also she was driven by fear, and fear drivesfast.
She went, it seemed, the nearest way, invisibly through the waxingmoonlight, seeing she only knew what amid the glades and groves.
"I'll stop here; see you to-morrow," gasped Mabel, as the loud pursuersfollowed Eliza's clatter across the terrace. "She's gone through thestable yard."
"The back way," Gerald panted as they turned the corner of their ownstreet, and he and Jimmy swung in past the water-butt.
An unseen but agitated presence seemed to be fumbling with the lockedback-door. The church clock struck the half-hour.
"Half-past nine," Gerald had just breath to say. "Pull at the ring.Perhaps it'll come off now."
He spoke to the bare doorstep. But it was Eliza, dishevelled,breathless, her hair coming down, her collar crooked, her dress twistedand disordered, who suddenly held out a hand--a hand that they couldsee; and in the hand, plainly visible in the moonlight, the dark circleof the magic ring.
* * * * *
"'Alf a mo!" said Eliza's gentleman friend next morning. He was waitingfor her when she opened the door with pail and hearthstone in her hand."Sorry you couldn't come out yesterday."
&n
bsp; "So'm I." Eliza swept the wet flannel along the top step. "What did youdo?"
IT WAS ELIZA, DISHEVELLED, BREATHLESS, HER HAIR COMINGDOWN, HER COLLAR CROOKED, HER DRESS TWISTED AND DISORDERED, WHO SUDDENLYHELD OUT A HAND.]
"I 'ad a bit of a headache," said the gentleman friend. "I laid downmost of the afternoon. What were you up to?"
"Oh, nothing pertickler," said Eliza.
* * * * *
"Then it was all a dream," she said, when he was gone; "but it'll be alesson to me not to meddle with anybody's old ring again in a hurry."
"So they didn't tell 'er about me behaving like I did," said he as hewent--"sun, I suppose--like our Army in India. I hope I aint going to beliable to it, that's all!"