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

“It doesn’t much matter about woods,” said Gerald dreamily, “we’re sure to find something. One of the chaps told me his father said when he was a boy there used to be a little cave under the bank in a lane near the Salisbury Road; but he said there was an enchanted castle there too, so perhaps the cave isn’t true either.”

“If we were to get horns,” said Kathleen, “and to blow them very hard all the way, we might find a magic castle.”

“If you’ve got the money to throw away on horns⁠—” said Jimmy contemptuously.

“Well, I have, as it happens, so there!” said Kathleen. And the horns were bought in a tiny shop with a bulging window full of a tangle of toys and sweets and cucumbers and sour apples.

And the quiet square at the end of the town where the church is, and the houses of the most respectable people, echoed to the sound of horns blown long and loud. But none of the houses turned into enchanted castles. Away they went along the Salisbury Road, which was very hot and dusty, so they agreed to drink one of the bottles of ginger-beer.

“We might as well carry the ginger-beer inside us as inside the bottle,” said Jimmy, “and we can hide the bottle and call for it as we come back.”

Presently they came to a place where the road, as Gerald said, went two ways at once.

“That looks like adventures,” said Kathleen; and they took the right-hand road, and the next time they took a turning it was a left-hand one, “so as to be quite fair,” Jimmy said, and then a right-hand one and then a left, and so on, till they were completely lost.

“Completely,” said Kathleen; “how jolly!”

And now trees arched overhead, and the banks of the road were high and bushy. The adventurers had long since ceased to blow their horns. It was too tiring to go on doing that, when there was no one to be annoyed by it.

“Oh, crikey!” observed Jimmy suddenly, “let’s sit down a bit and have some of our dinner. We might call it lunch, you know,” he added persuasively.

So they sat down in the hedge and ate the ripe red gooseberries that were to have been their dessert.

And as they sat and rested and wished that their boots did not feel so full of feet, Gerald leaned back against the bushes, and the bushes gave way so that he almost fell over backward. Something had yielded to the pressure of his back, and there was the sound of something heavy that fell.

“Oh, Jimminy!” he remarked, recovering himself suddenly; “there’s something hollow in there⁠—the stone I was leaning against simply went!”

“I wish it was a cave,” said Jimmy; “but of course it isn’t.”

“If we blow the horns perhaps it will be,” said Kathleen, and hastily blew her own.

Gerald reached his hand through the bushes. “I can’t feel anything but air,” he said; “it’s just a hole full of emptiness. The other two pulled back the bushes.” There certainly was a hole in the bank. “I’m going to go in,” observed Gerald.

“Oh, don’t!” said his sister. “I wish you wouldn’t. Suppose there were snakes!”

“Not likely,” said Gerald, but he leaned forward and struck a match. “It is a cave!” he cried, and put his knee on the mossy stone he had been sitting on, scrambled over it, and disappeared.

A breathless pause followed.

“You all right?” asked Jimmy.

“Yes; come on. You’d better come feet first⁠—there’s a bit of a drop.”

“I’ll go next,” said Kathleen, and went⁠—feet first, as advised. The feet waved wildly in the air.

“Look out!” said Gerald in the dark; “you’ll have my eye out. Put your feet down, girl, not up. It’s no use trying to fly here⁠—there’s no room.”

He helped her by pulling her feet forcibly down and then lifting her under the arms. She felt rustling dry leaves under her boots, and stood ready to receive Jimmy, who came in head first, like one diving into an unknown sea.

“It is a cave,” said Kathleen.

“The young explorers,” explained Gerald, blocking up the hole of entrance with his shoulders, “dazzled at first by the darkness of the cave, could see nothing.”

“Darkness doesn’t dazzle,” said Jimmy.

“I wish we’d got a candle,” said Kathleen.

“Yes, it does,” Gerald contradicted, “⁠—could see nothing. But their dauntless leader, whose eyes had grown used to the dark while the clumsy forms of the others were bunging up the entrance, had made a discovery.”

“Oh, what!” Both the others were used to Gerald’s way of telling a story while he acted it, but they did sometimes wish that he didn’t talk quite so long and so like a book in moments of excitement.

“He did not reveal the dread secret to his faithful followers till one and all had given him their word of honour to be calm.”

“We’ll be calm all right,” said Jimmy impatiently.

“Well, then,” said Gerald, ceasing suddenly to be a book and becoming a boy, “there’s a light over there⁠—look behind you!”

They looked. And there was. A faint greyness on the brown walls of the cave, and a brighter greyness cut off sharply by a dark line, showed that round a turning or angle of the cave there was daylight.

“Attention!” said Gerald; at least, that was what he meant, though what he said was “ ’Shun!” as becomes the son of a soldier. The others mechanically obeyed.

“You will remain at attention till I give the word ‘Slow march!’ on which you will advance cautiously in open order, following your hero leader, taking care not to tread on the dead and wounded.”

“I wish you wouldn’t!” said Kathleen.

“There aren’t any,” said Jimmy, feeling for her hand in the dark; “he only means, take care not to tumble over stones and things⁠—”

Here he found her hand, and she screamed.

“It’s only me,” said Jimmy. “I thought you’d like me to hold it. But you’re just like a girl.”

Their eyes had now begun to get accustomed to the darkness, and