“But I want to get you your hot-water bottles,” he said.
“Not at all; don’t you stir,” Brother Botolph told him. “It’s been much too exciting a day for you, and we can’t have you ill again. Brother Ubald and I shall look after everything.”
“It is so good of you,” murmured Brother Alban. “I confess I am a bit faint. I thought my heart would stop for joy when I recognized Felix. Oh, I am so happy, so grateful.” He leaned back in his chair with a look of peace on his face. His brothers took off his shoes and fetched his slippers. They felt anxious about him.
“I’ll never forget our conjuring party.” Brother Alban chuckled. “Do you remember the moment we discovered that Brother Ubald had brought the wrong hat?”
“There was such a mess in the cloakroom,” explained Brother Ubald sheepishly. “I’d forgotten that Mr. Skunk-Phoo wears one too. I just grabbed the first one I saw in my hurry.”
“It was lucky,” Brother Alban remarked gently. “Our trick wasn’t much good, and if we’d had the right hat Felix might not have come to our aid.”
“Oh, yes, I’m sure he would!” exclaimed Brother Botolph. “I’m sure he was ready, waiting with his surprises. I know our Felix. He may even have made the tricks go wrong on purpose,” he ended hopefully. His failures still worried him.
“That would not have taken much magic,” Brother Ubald remarked with a wry smile.
“Felix has been so wonderful to us. I’d like to give him something in return. I’d like to give him my eggshell collection,” Brother Botolph went on impetuously.
“What would he do with it?” asked Brother Ubald. “He’d rather look at it here.”
“And we’d miss it,” murmured Brother Alban, looking up at the mantelpiece, on which the shells were arranged in all their splendor.
“Don’t worry about returning Felix’s gift,” said Brother Ubald. “It makes him happy to be generous. We shall have to allow him to spoil us.” He smiled to himself. “I can foresee it all—visits to the palace, an audience with the king, rides on his horse, presents—endless presents—and on a gray day, when everything is dreary, sudden magic. Ah, Felix, it was a blessed day when we took you in!”
“We almost refused him,” said Brother Alban in a small, penitent voice. There was a moment’s silence. Then Brother Ubald fetched his souvenir album to show the others how he’d recognized Felix’s handwriting. He had kept many pages of Felix’s exercises. The three dwarfs bent over the book, their gray hairs mingling as they bowed over the lamplit table, their arms on one another’s shoulders. Behind them their shadows stretched across the circular wall. The grandfather clock ticked slowly. The kettle sang a glad song on the stove.
“Do you remember his first bath?” said Brother Botolph.
“And the fright we got when he started to fly?”
“Do you remember? … Do you remember?” The little room grew warm and sweet with young Felix’s presence.
In the Squirrels’ household, higher up in the tree, all was quiet. The overexcited children had at last fallen asleep, and Mamma Squirrel was picking up their clothes before going to bed herself. Her eyes were soft, like a bride’s. After the party Mr. Squirrel had said to her, “Rosa, did you hear? I’m to hold myself ready. The king may want me someday.” And he had looked so noble that Mamma Squirrel really could not help it. She had fallen in love with him all over again.
“Red,” she called, “it’s late!” There was no answer. Mamma Squirrel peered into the dressing room. There sat Mr. Squirrel, in front of the mirror, his helmet on his head and on his face a smile of ineffable and unutterable bliss.
King Oberon's Forest Page 10