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

Mabel. The crowd clapped loudly. “Bravo!”

“That’s something like!”

“Show us another!” cried the people in the front rank. And those behind pushed forward.

“Now,” said Gerald, “you’ve seen what I can do, but I don’t do any more till I see five shillings on this carpet.”

And in two minutes seven-and-threepence lay there and Gerald did a little more conjuring.

When the people in front didn’t want to give any more money, Gerald asked them to stand back and let the others have a look in. I wish I had time to tell you of all the tricks he did the grass round his enclosure was absolutely trampled off by the feet of the people who thronged to look at him. There is really hardly any limit to the wonders you can do if you have an invisible accomplice. All sorts of things were made to move about, apparently by themselves, and even to vanish⁠—into the folds of Mabel’s clothing. The woman stood by, looking more and more pleasant as she saw the money come tumbling in, and beating her shabby drum every time Gerald stopped conjuring.

The news of the conjurer had spread all over the fair. The crowd was frantic with admiration. The man who ran the coconut shies begged Gerald to throw in his lot with him; the owner of the rifle gallery offered him free board and lodging and go shares; and a brisk, broad lady, in stiff black silk and a violet bonnet, tried to engage him for the forthcoming Bazaar for Reformed Bandsmen.

And all this time the others mingled with the crowd quite unobserved, for who could have eyes for anyone but Gerald? It was getting quite late, long past teatime, and Gerald, who was getting very tired indeed, and was quite satisfied with his share of the money, was racking his brains for a way to get out of it.

“How are we to hook it?” he murmured, as Mabel made his cap disappear from his head by the simple process of taking it off and putting it in her pocket.

“They’ll never let us get away. I didn’t think of that before.”

“Let me think!” whispered Mabel; and next moment she said, close to his ear: “Divide the money, and give her something for the shawl. Put the money on it and say⁠ ⁠…” She told him what to say.

Gerald’s pitch was in the shade of the tent; otherwise, of course, everyone would have seen the shadow of the invisible Mabel as she moved about making things vanish.

Gerald told the woman to divide the money, which she did honestly enough.

“Now,” he said, while the impatient crowd pressed closer and closer, “I’ll give you five bob for your shawl.”

“Seven-and-six,” said the woman mechanically.

“Righto!” said Gerald, putting his heavy share of the money in his trouser pocket.

“This shawl will now disappear,” he said, picking it up. He handed it to Mabel, who put it on; and, of course, it disappeared. A roar of applause went up from the audience.

“Now,” he said, “I come to the last trick of all. I shall take three steps backwards and vanish.” He took three steps backwards, Mabel wrapped the invisible shawl round him, and he did not vanish. The shawl, being invisible, did not conceal him in the least.

“Yah!” cried a boy’s voice in the crowd. “Look at ’im! ’E knows ’e can’t do it.”

“I wish I could put you in my pocket,” said Mabel. The crowd was crowding closer. At any moment they might touch Mabel, and then anything might happen⁠—simply anything. Gerald took hold of his hair with both hands, as his way was when he was anxious or discouraged. Mabel, in invisibility, wrung her hands, as people are said to do in books that is, she clasped them and squeezed very tight.

“Oh!” she whispered suddenly, “it’s loose. I can get it off.”

“Not⁠—”

“Yes⁠—the ring.”

“Come on, young master. Give us summat for our money,” a farm labourer shouted.

“I will,” said Gerald. “This time I really will vanish. Slip round into the tent,” he whispered to Mabel. “Push the ring under the canvas. Then slip out at the back and join the others. When I see you with them I’ll disappear. Go slow, and I’ll catch you up.”

“It’s me,” said a pale and obvious Mabel in the ear of Kathleen. “He’s got the ring; come on, before the crowd begins to scatter.”

As they went out of the gate they heard a roar of surprise and annoyance rise from the crowd, and knew that this time Gerald really had disappeared.

They had gone a mile before they heard footsteps on the road, and looked back. No one was to be seen.

Next moment Gerald’s voice spoke out of clear, empty-looking space.

“Halloa!” it said gloomily.

“How horrid!” cried Mabel; “you did make me jump! Take the ring off; it makes me feel quite creepy, you being nothing but a voice.”

“So did you us,” said Jimmy.

“Don’t take it off yet,” said Kathleen, who was really rather thoughtful for her age, “because you’re still blackleaded, I suppose, and you might be recognized, and eloped with by gypsies, so that you should go on doing conjuring forever and ever.”

“I should take it off,” said Jimmy; “it’s no use going about invisible, and people seeing us with Mabel and saying we’ve eloped with her.”

“Yes,” said Mabel impatiently, “that would be simply silly. And, besides, I want my ring.”

“It’s not yours any more than ours, anyhow,” said Jimmy.

“Yes, it is,” said Mabel.

“Oh, stow it!” said the weary voice of Gerald beside her. “What’s the use of jawing?”

“I want the ring,” said Mabel, rather mulishly.

“Want,”⁠—the words came out of the still evening air⁠—“want must be your master. You can’t have the ring. I can’t get it off!”

IV

The difficulty was not only that Gerald had got the ring on and couldn’t get it off, and was therefore invisible, but that Mabel, who had been invisible and therefore possible to be smuggled into the house, was now plain to be seen and impossible for