The Complete Mouldiwarp Series (Illustrated Edition) (eBook)
314 Seiten
Musaicum Books (Verlag)
978-80-272-2200-1 (ISBN)
Chapter II.
The Mouldiwarp
And it was – it was the living image of the little pig-like animal that was stamped in gold above the chequered shield on the cover of the white book in which they had found the spell. And as on the yellowy white of the vellum book-cover, so here on the thymy grass of the knoll it shone golden. The children stood perfectly still. They were afraid to move lest they should scare away this little creature which, though golden, was alive and moved about at their feet, turning a restless nose to right and left.
‘It is,’ said Elfrida again, very softly, so as not to frighten it.
‘What?’ Edred asked, though he knew well enough.
‘Off the book that we got the spell out of.’
‘That was our crest on the top of our coat-of-arms, like on the old snuff-box that was great-grandpapa’s.’
‘Well, this is our crest come alive, that’s all.’
‘Don’t you be too clever,’ said Edred. ‘It said badge; I don’t believe badge is the same thing as crest. A badge is leeks, or roses, or thistles – something you can wear in your cap. I shouldn’t like to wear that in my cap.’
And still the golden thing at their feet moved cautiously and without ceasing.
‘Why,’ said Edred suddenly, ‘it’s just a common old mole.’
‘It isn’t; it’s our own crest, that’s on the spoons and things. It’s our own old family mole that’s our crest. How can it be a common mole? It’s all golden.’
And, even as she spoke, it left off being golden. For the last bit of sun dipped behind the shoulder of the downs, and in the grey twilight that was left the mole was white – anyone could see that.
‘Oh!’ said Elfrida – but she stuck to her point. ‘So you see,’ she went on, ‘it can’t be just a really-mole. Really-moles are black.’
‘Well,’ said Edred, ‘it’s very tame, I will say that.’
‘Well—’ Edred was beginning; but, at that same moment the mole also, suddenly and astonishingly, said, ‘Well?’
There was a hushed pause. Then—
‘Did you say that?’ Elfrida whispered.
‘No,’ said Edred, ‘you did.’
‘Don’t whisper, now,’ said the mole; ‘’tain’t purty manners, so I tells ’ee.’
With one accord the two children came to their knees, one on each side of the white mole.
‘I say!’ said Edred.
‘Now, don’t,’ said the mole, pointing its nose at him quite as disdainfully as any human being could have pointed a finger. ‘Don’t you go for to pretend you don’t know as Mouldiwarps ’as got tongues in dere heads same’s what you’ve got.’
‘But not to talk with?’ said Elfrida softly.
‘Don’t you tell me,’ said the Mouldiwarp, bristling a little. ‘Hasn’t no one told you e’er a fairy tale? All us beastes has tongues, and when we’re dere us uses of en.’
‘When you’re where?’ said Edred, rather annoyed at being forced to believe in fairy tales, which he had never really liked.
‘Why, in a fairy tale, for sure,’ said the mole. ‘Wherever to goodness else on earth do you suppose you be?’
‘We’re here,’ said Edred, kicking the ground to make it feel more solid and himself more sure of things, ‘on Arden Knoll.’
‘An’ ain’t that in a fairy tale?’ demanded the Mouldiwarp triumphantly. ‘You do talk so free. You called me, and here I be. What do you want?’
‘Are you,’ said Elfrida, thrilling with surprise and fear, and pleasure and hope, and wonder, and a few other things which, taken in the lump, are usually called ‘a thousand conflicting emotions,’ – ‘are you the “badge of Arden’s house”?’
‘Course I be,’ said the mole, – ‘what’s left of it; and never did I think to be called one by the Arden boy and gell as didn’t know their own silly minds. What do you want, eh?’
‘We told you in the spell,’ said Elfrida.
‘Oh, be that all?’ said the mole bitterly; ‘nothing else? I’m to make him brave and wise and show him de treasure. Milksop!’ it said, so suddenly and fiercely that it almost seemed to spit the words in poor Edred’s face.
‘I’m not,’ said Edred, turning turkey-red. ‘I got into the house and found the spell, anyway.’
‘Yes; and who did all the looking for it? She did. Bless you, I was there; I know all about it. If it was showing her the treasure, now, there’d be some sense in it.’
‘I think you’re very unfair,’ said Elfrida, as earnestly as though she had been speaking to a grown-up human being; ‘if he was brave and wise we shouldn’t want you to make him it.’
‘You ain’t got nothing to do with it,’ said the mole crossly.
‘Yes, she has,’ said Edred. ‘I mean to share and share with her – whatever I get. And if you could make me wise I’d teach her everything you taught me. But I don’t believe you can. So there!’
‘Do you believe I can talk?’ the mole asked; and Edred quite definitely and surprisingly said:
‘No, I don’t. You’re a dream, that’s all you are,’ he said, ‘and I’m dreaming you.’
‘And what do you think?’ the mole asked Elfrida, who hesitated.
‘I think,’ she said at last, ‘that it’s getting very dark, and Aunt Edith will be anxious about us; and will you meet us another day? There isn’t time to make us brave and wise tonight.’
‘That there ain’t, for sure,’ said the mole meaningly.
‘But you might tell us where the treasure is,’ said Edred.
‘That comes last, greedy,’ said the mole. ‘I’ve got to make you kind and wise first, and I see I’ve got my work cut out. Good-night.’
It began to move away.
‘Oh, don’t go!’ said Elfrida; ‘we shall never find you again. Oh, don’t! Oh, this is dreadful!’
The mole paused.
‘I’ve got to let you find me again. Don’t upset yourself,’ it said bitterly. ‘When you wants me, come up on to the knoll and say a piece of poetry to call me, and I’ll come,’ and it started again.
‘But what poetry?’ Edred asked.
‘Oh, anything. You can pick and choose.’
Edred thought of ‘The Lays of Ancient Rome.’
‘Only ’tain’t no good without you makes it up yourselves,’ said the Mouldiwarp.
‘Oh!’ said the two, much disheartened.
‘And course it must be askin’ me to kindly come to you. Get along home.’
‘Where are you going?’ Elfrida asked.
‘Home too, of course,’ it said, and this time it really did go.
The two children turned towards the lights of Ardenhurst Station in perfect silence. Only as they reached the place where the down-turf ends and the road begins Edred said, in tones of awe, ‘I say!’
And Elfrida answered, ‘Yes – isn’t it?’
Then they walked, still without talking, to the station.
The lights there, and the voices of porters and passengers, the rattle of signal-wires and the ‘ping, ping’ of train signals, had on them the effect of a wet sponge passed over the face of a sleeper by some ‘already up’ person. They seemed to awaken from a dream, and the moment they were in the train, which fortunately came quite soon, they began to talk. They talked without stopping till they got to Cliffville Station, and then they talked all the way home, and by the time they reached the house with the green balconies and the smooth, pale, polished door-knocker they had decided, as children almost always do in cases of magic adventure, that they had better not say anything to anyone. As I am always pointing out, it is extremely difficult to tell your magic experiences to people who not only will not, but cannot believe you. This is one of the drawbacks of really wonderful happenings.
Aunt Edith had not come home, but she came as they were washing their hands and faces for supper. She brought with her presents for Edred’s birthday – nicer presents, and more of them, than he had had for three years.
She bought him a box of wonderfully varied chocolate and a box of tools, a very beautiful bat and a cricket-ball and a set of stumps, and a beetle-backed paint-box in which all the colours were whole pans, and not half ones, as they usually are in the boxes you get as presents. In this were beautiful paint-brushes – two camel’s-hair ones and a sable with a point as fine as fine.
‘You are a dear, auntie,’ he said, with his arms very tight round her waist. He was very happy, and it made him feel more generous than usual. So he said again, ‘You are a dear. And Elfrida can use the paint-box whenever I’m out, and the camel’s-hair brushes. Not the sable, of course.’
‘Oh, Edred, how jolly of you!’ said Elfrida, quite touched.
‘I’ve got something for Elfrida too,’ said Aunt Edith, feeling among the rustling pile of brown paper, and tissue paper, and string, and cardboard, and shavings, that were the husks of Edred’s presents. ‘Ah, here it is!’
It was a book – a red book with gold pictures on back and cover – and it was called ‘The Amulet.’ So then it was Elfrida’s turn to clasp her aunt round the waist and tell her about her dearness.
‘And now to supper,’ said the dear. ‘Roast chicken. And gooseberry pie. And cream.’
To the children,...
| Erscheint lt. Verlag | 16.10.2017 |
|---|---|
| Illustrationen | H. R. Millar |
| Verlagsort | Prague |
| Sprache | englisch |
| Themenwelt | Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Fantasy |
| Kinder- / Jugendbuch ► Sachbücher ► Kunst / Musik | |
| Schlagworte | Children's Time Travel • English Heritage Exploration • Enid Blyton • Fantasy Quest Series • Harry Potter • historical mystery • Hobbit • Illustrated Fantasy Novel • Jules Verne • Lord of the Rings • magical adventure • Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard • Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children • Sibling Adventure Tale • The Chronicles of Narnia • The Gender Game • The Trials of Apollo • time travel fantasy • Treasure Hunt Quest • Victorian children's fiction |
| ISBN-10 | 80-272-2200-1 / 8027222001 |
| ISBN-13 | 978-80-272-2200-1 / 9788027222001 |
| Informationen gemäß Produktsicherheitsverordnung (GPSR) | |
| Haben Sie eine Frage zum Produkt? |
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