The Enchanted Castle, E. Nesbit [books to read fiction .txt] 📗

“I’m not.”

“You are really. Look in the glass.”

“I’m not; I can’t be.”

“Look in the glass,” Gerald repeated, quite unmoved.

“Let go, then,” she said.

Gerald did, and the moment he had done so he found it impossible to believe that he really had been holding invisible hands.

“You’re just pretending not to see me,” said the Princess anxiously, “aren’t you? Do say you are. You’ve had your joke with me. Don’t keep it up. I don’t like it.”

“On our sacred word of honour,” said Gerald, “you’re still invisible.”

There was a silence. Then, “Come,” said the Princess. “I’ll let you out, and you can go. I’m tired of playing with you.”

They followed her voice to the door, and through it, and along the little passage into the hall. No one said anything. Everyone felt very uncomfortable.

“Let’s get out of this,” whispered Jimmy as they got to the end of the hall.

But the voice of the Princess said: “Come out this way; it’s quicker. I think you’re perfectly hateful. I’m sorry I ever played with you. Mother always told me not to play with strange children.”

A door abruptly opened, though no hand was seen to touch it. “Come through, can’t you!” said the voice of the Princess.

It was a little anteroom, with long, narrow mirrors between its long, narrow windows.

“Goodbye,” said Gerald. “Thanks for giving us such a jolly time. Let’s part friends,” he added, holding out his hand.

An unseen hand was slowly put in his, which closed on it, vice-like.

“Now,” he said, “you’ve jolly well got to look in the glass and own that we’re not liars.”

He led the invisible Princess to one of the mirrors, and held her in front of it by the shoulders.

“Now,” he said, “you just look for yourself.” There was a silence, and then a cry of despair rang through the room.

“Oh⁠—oh⁠—oh! I am invisible. Whatever shall I do?”

“Take the ring off,” said Kathleen, suddenly practical.

Another silence.

“I can’t!” cried the Princess. “It won’t come off. But it can’t be the ring; rings don’t make you invisible.”

“You said this one did,” said Kathleen, “and it has.”

“But it can’t,” said the Princess. “I was only playing at magic. I just hid in the secret cupboard⁠—it was only a game. Oh, whatever shall I do?”

“A game?” said Gerald slowly; “but you can do magic⁠—the invisible jewels, and you made them come visible.”

“Oh, it’s only a secret spring and the panelling slides up. Oh, what am I to do?”

Kathleen moved towards the voice and gropingly got her arms round a pink-silk waist that she couldn’t see. Invisible arms clasped her, a hot invisible cheek was laid against hers, and warm invisible tears lay wet between the two faces.

“Don’t cry, dear,” said Kathleen; “let me go and tell the King and Queen.”

“The⁠—?”

“Your royal father and mother.”

“Oh, don’t mock me!” said the poor Princess. “You know that was only a game, too, like⁠—”

“Like the bread and cheese,” said Jimmy triumphantly. “I knew that was!”

“But your dress and being asleep in the maze, and⁠—”

“Oh, I dressed up for fun, because everyone’s away at the fair, and I put the clue just to make it all more real. I was playing at Fair Rosamond first, and then I heard you talking in the maze, and I thought what fun; and now I’m invisible, and I shall never come right again, never⁠—I know I shan’t! It serves me right for lying, but I didn’t really think you’d believe it⁠—not more than half, that is,” she added hastily, trying to be truthful.

“But if you’re not the Princess, who are you?” asked Kathleen, still embracing the unseen.

“I’m⁠—my aunt lives here,” said the invisible Princess. “She may be home any time. Oh, what shall I do?”

“Perhaps she knows some charm⁠—”

“Oh, nonsense!” said the voice sharply; “she doesn’t believe in charms. She would be so vexed. Oh, I daren’t let her see me like this!” she added wildly. “And all of you here, too. She’d be so dreadfully cross.”

The beautiful magic castle that the children had believed in now felt as though it were tumbling about their ears. All that was left was the invisibleness of the Princess. But that, you will own, was a good deal.

“I just said it,” moaned the voice, “and it came true. I wish I’d never played at magic⁠—I wish I’d never played at anything at all.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” Gerald said kindly. “Let’s go out into the garden, near the lake, where it’s cool, and we’ll hold a solemn council. You’ll like that, won’t you?”

“Oh!” cried Kathleen suddenly, “the buckle; that makes magic come undone!”

“It doesn’t really,” murmured the voice that seemed to speak without lips. “I only just said that.”

“You only ‘just said’ about the ring,” said Gerald. “Anyhow, let’s try.”

“Not you⁠—me,” said the voice. “You go down to the Temple of Flora, by the lake. I’ll go back to the jewel-room by myself. Aunt might see you.”

“She won’t see you,” said Jimmy.

“Don’t rub it in,” said Gerald. “Where is the Temple of Flora?”

“That’s the way,” the voice said; “down those steps and along the winding path through the shrubbery. You can’t miss it. It’s white marble, with a statue goddess inside.”

The three children went down to the white marble Temple of Flora that stood close against the side of the little hill, and sat down in its shadowy inside. It had arches all round except against the hill behind the statue, and it was cool and restful.

They had not been there five minutes before the feet of a runner sounded loud on the gravel. A shadow, very black and distinct, fell on the white marble floor.

“Your shadow’s not invisible, anyhow,” said Jimmy.

“Oh, bother my shadow!” the voice of the Princess replied. “We left the key inside the door, and it’s shut itself with the wind, and it’s a spring lock!”

There was a heartfelt pause.

Then Gerald said, in his most businesslike manner: “Sit down, Princess, and we’ll have a thorough good palaver about it.”

“I shouldn’t wonder,” said Jimmy, “if we was to wake up