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"It doesn't matter what anybody says," said Miss Ford. "We are all going to America. No place and no person matters when I am not there. There are no places and no people existing where I am not. I have suspected it before, and now I am sure that everything is all a pretence, except me.
Look how easy it was to dismiss that gross grocer from sight. He was just a bit of background. I have painted him out."
The drapery department on the ceiling was ablaze now, and flakes of ashy petticoat, and the metal frames of b.u.t.tons, showered to the floor.
"I will go and get help," said Sarah Brown, and hurried out of doors, followed feverishly by David, who was not a very brave dog in moments of crisis, and yet liked to appear busy and helpful. It was to the ferryman's telephone that they returned. Sarah Brown knew that the fire was a magic fire, and that an appeal to the L.C.C. Fire Brigade would only bring defeat and unnecessary bewilderment upon a deserving organisation.
Sarah Brown rang up Richard's office, and Richard, who had a heroic and almost cinematic gift for being on hand at the right moments, answered her himself.
"Come at once," said Sarah Brown. "The House of Living Alone is on fire.
Someone has been tampering with the magic drawer."
"Oh deah, deah," said Richard. "And this is such a busy night at the office too. Do you think it is really important? It is my house, you know."
"Well, I don't see what is to prevent Mitten Island from being burnt to the water's edge. In fact I don't see why, being a magic fire, it should stop at the water's edge. Not to mention that the Mayor----"
"Very well, I'll come," said Richard.
As she stepped out of the door he arrived.
"I came by flash of lightning," he explained, smoothing his hair and readjusting his Bill Sykes service cap, in the manner of one who has moved swiftly. "The lightning service is getting very bad. I was held up for quite three-quarters of a second over Whitehall. There was some wireless war-news coming in, and the lightning had to let it pa.s.s. Now, what's all this fuss about, Sarah Brown?"
There was a crowd of delirious Mitten Islanders round the House of Living Alone. While Sarah Brown and Richard were about fifty yards away, a many-forked and enormous white flame suddenly wrapped the house about, like a hand clutching and crus.h.i.+ng it.
"The f.a.ggots round the stake are lighted," said Richard. "But the witch has fled."
It seemed that the stars were devoured by the flame, so far did it outs.h.i.+ne them. The flame shrank in upon itself and collapsed. There was no more House of Living Alone.
"Oh, Richard," said Sarah Brown. "Your mother and Miss Ford and----"
"Was mother in there?" asked Richard placidly. "Wonders will never cease. Well, well, it is fortunate that no magic of any sort could ever touch mother."
And indeed, as they pushed through the crowd, they saw all the recent occupants of the Shop arguing at the front gate.
"I didn't blow it," Mr. Tovey was saying in an aggrieved voice. "I was singing, not blowing."
"Well, all I know is that while you were on that high note something seemed to scatter the flames, and the drawer full of explosives caught fire," said Mr. Darnby Frere aggressively, flouris.h.i.+ng his empty biscuit tin.
"It doesn't matter," said Miss Ford calmly. "We are all going across the sea to-morrow." She roused herself a little, and said to Mr. Frere with a smile: "You know, I inherit the sea tradition. My father commanded H.M.S. _Indigestible_ in '84."
"I wonder what put out the flame so suddenly?" asked Mr. Tovey, who was still dreamily beating time to imaginary music with one hand.
"I put it out," said Richard.
"I wonder whose house it is?" added Mr. Tovey, turning vaguely to face Richard.
"It is my house," said Richard.
They all discovered his presence.
"Your house, dear Rrchud?" exclaimed Lady Arabel. "Are you sure? I didn't know the Higginses had any house property on Mitten Island."
"They haven't now," replied Richard. "But never mind. It has always seemed to me that there were too many houses in the world. Most houses are traps into which everything enters, and out of which nothing comes.
It always grieves me to see tradesmen pouring sustenance in at the back door, and no result or justification coming out of the front door. I often think that only the houses that men's bodies have deserted are really inhabited."
"It was I who burnt your house down, Richard," said Miss Ford. "But it doesn't matter. It wasn't a real house."
"You are right," said Richard. "To such as you, dear Meta, it was not a real house. It was the House of Living Alone, and only to people who live alone was it real. It is dark and deserted now, and levelled with the cold ground; it is as though it were a tent, being moved from its position to follow the fortunes of those dwellers alone who wander continually in silence up and down the world...."
He looked at Sarah Brown.
"Talking of wandering," said Miss Ford. "We are all going to America, Richard. Can you get us pa.s.sports?"
"Certainly," agreed Richard. "To America, eh? A nice little trip for you all. America, you know, would be entirely magic, if it weren't for the Americans...."
"I have quite a circle of friends in New York," said Miss Ford, who seemed to be recovering from her nerve-storm.
"Beware," said Richard, "lest you all forget the magic of to-night, and change from adventurers to tourists."
"I am not going to America," said Lady Arabel. "I am going home. I never heard such dretful nonsense. I was only in fun when I agreed to the plan."
"I never agreed to the plan at all," said Mr. Frere. "I shall be truly thankful to get to bed, and wake up to-morrow sober. I will never go out to tea in Kensington again if this is the result."
"I am going to America," said Mr. Tovey, fixing his innocent eyes, obscured by hair, upon Miss Ford.
"I am going to America," echoed the unseen Mayor from an unexpected direction. n.o.body had yet dared to tell him of the misfortune that had overtaken him. "I'll give up this Mayor job to-morrer. Catch me stayin'
be'ind if--oh, by the way, that reminds me----"
"I didn't need reminding," interrupted Sarah Brown. "It seems to me that everybody has forgotten why they came here. Please, Richard, do you know of a spell to find a missing person?"
"Yes, several," answered Richard, who was always as eager as a travelling salesman to recommend his wares. "There is an awfully ingenious little spell I can show you, if you happen to have a telephone book and a compa.s.s and a toad's heart and a hair from a black goat's beard about you. Or again, if you stand on a sea-beach at low tide on Christmas night with the moon at your back and a wax candle in your left hand, and write upon the sand the name--by the way, who is it you want to find?"
"The witch," answered Sarah Brown.
Richard's face fell. "Oh, only the witch?" he said. "I can tell you where she is without any spell at all. She's with my True Love at Higgins Farm, helping--oh, by the way, mother, I forgot to tell you. You are a grandmother."
"RRCHUD!" said Lady Arabel. She sat down suddenly on the smooth gra.s.s slope between the road and the garden hedge. "Ah, it is too cruel," she cried, burying her face in her hands. "It is too cruel. Is this my son?
I meant so well, and all my life I did the things that other people did, the natural things. Except just once. And for that once, I am so cruelly punished.... I am given a son who is no son to me, who says only things I mustn't understand ... who does only things I mustn't see...." She paused, and, taking her hands from her face, looked round aghast at Richard, who was sitting beside her on the bank, stroking her arm. "_A faery son_ ..." she added in a terrified whisper, and then broke out again crying: "Ah, it is too cruel...."
Richard continued to stroke her arm without comprehension. "Yes, mother, and Peony, my True Love, insists on calling him Elbert," he said.
"Mother, listen, Elbert your faery grandson...."
But Lady Arabel still sobbed.
CHAPTER X