by Edith Nesbit
‘If only Lucy were here,’ he said.
Walked straight into the arms of Helen.
When he was quite sure that the Pretenderette was really gone, he came out and explored the island. It had on it every kind of flower and fruit that you can think of, all growing together. There were gold oranges and white orange flowers, pink apple-blossom and red apples, cherries and cherry-blossom, strawberry flowers and strawberries, all growing together, wild and sweet.
At the back of his mind Philip remembered that he had, at some time or other, heard of an island where fruit and blossoms grew together at the same time, but that was all he could remember. He passed through the lovely orchards and came to a lake. It was frozen. And he remembered that, in the island he had heard of, there was a lake ready for skating even when the flowers and fruit were on the trees. Then he came to a little summer-house built all of porcupine quills like Helen’s pen-box.
And then he knew. All these wonders were on the island that he and Helen had invented long ago — the island that she used to draw maps of.
‘It’s our very own island,’ he said, and a glorious feeling of being at home glowed through him, warm and delightful. ‘We said no one else might come here! That’s why the Pretenderette couldn’t land. And why they call it the Island-where-you-mayn’t-go. I’ll find the bun tree and have something to eat, and then I’ll go to the boat-house and get out the Lightning Loose and go back for Lucy. I do wish I could bring her here. But of course I can’t without asking Helen.’
The Lightning Loose was the magic yacht Helen had invented for the island.
He soon found a bush whose fruit was buns, and a jam-tart tree grew near it. You have no idea how nice jam tarts can taste till you have gathered them yourself, fresh and sticky, from the tree. They are as sticky as horse-chestnut buds, and much nicer to eat.
As he went towards the boat-house he grew happier and happier, recognising, one after the other, all the places he and Helen had planned and marked on the map. He passed by the marble and gold house with King’s Palace painted on the door. He longed to explore it: but the thought of Lucy drove him on. As he went down a narrow leafy woodland path towards the boat-house, he passed the door of the dear little thatched cottage (labelled Queen’s Palace) which was the house Helen had insisted that she liked best for her very own.
‘How pretty it is; I wish Helen was here,’ he said; ‘she helped to make it. I should never have thought of it without her. She ought to be here,’ he said. With that he felt very lonely, all of a sudden, and very sad. And as he went on, wondering whether in all this magic world there might not somehow be some magic strong enough to bring Helen there to see the island that was their very own, and to give her consent to his bringing Lucy to it, he turned a corner in the woodland path, and walked straight into the arms of — Helen.
CHAPTER IX. ON THE ‘LIGHTNING LOOSE’
‘But how did you get here?’ said Philip in Helen’s arms on the island.
‘I just walked out at the other side of a dream,’ she said; ‘how could I not come, when the door was open and you wanted me so?’
And Philip just said, ‘Oh, Helen!’ He could not find any other words, but Helen understood. She always did.
‘Come,’ she said, ‘shall we go to your Palace or mine? I want my supper, and we’ll have our own little blue-and-white tea-set. Yes, I know you’ve had your supper, but it’ll be fun getting mine, and perhaps you’ll be hungry again before we’ve got it.’
They went to the thatched cottage that was Helen’s palace, because Philip had had almost as much of large buildings as he wanted for a little while. The cottage had a wide chimney and an open hearth; and they sat on the hearth and made toast, and Philip almost forgot that he had ever had any adventures and that the toast was being made on a hearth whose blue wood-smoke curled up among the enchanting tree-tops of a magic island.
And before they went to bed he had told her all about everything.
‘Oh, I am so glad you came!’ he said over and over again; ‘it is so easy to tell you here, with all the magic going on. I don’t think I ever could have told you at the Grange with the servants all about, and the — I mean Mr. Graham, and all the things as not magic as they could possibly be. Oh, Helen! where is Mr. Graham; won’t he hate your coming away from him?’
‘He’s gone through a dream door too,’ she said, ‘to see Lucy. Only he doesn’t know he’s really gone. He’ll think it’s a dream, and he’ll tell me about it when we both wake up.’
‘When did you go to sleep?’ said Philip.
‘At Brussels. That telegram hasn’t come yet.’
‘I don’t understand about time,’ said Philip firmly, ‘and I never shall. I say, Helen, I was just looking for the Lightning Loose, to go off in her on a voyage of discovery and find Lucy.’
‘I don’t think you need,’ she said; ‘I met a parrot on the island just before I met you and it was saying poetry to itself.’
‘It would be,’ said Philip, ‘if it was alive. I’m glad it is alive, though. What was it saying?’
‘It was something like this,’ she said, putting a log of wood on the fire:
‘Philip and Helen
Have the island to dwell in,
Hooray.
They said of the island,
“It’s your land and my land!”
Hooray. Hooray. Hooray.
‘And till the ark
Comes out of the dark
There those two may stay
For a happy while, and
Enjoy their island
Until the Giving Day.
Hooray.
‘And then they will hear the giving voice,
They will hear and obey,
And when people come
Who need a home,
They’ll give the island away.
Hooray.
‘The island with flower
And fruit and bower,
Forest and river and bay,
Their very own island
They’ll sigh and smile and
They’ll give their island away.’
‘What nonsense!’ said Philip, ‘I never will.’
‘All right, my Pipkin,’ said Helen cheerfully; ‘I only told you just to show that you’re expected to stay here. “Philip and Helen have the island to dwell in.” And now, what about bed?’
They spent a whole week on the island. It was exactly all that they could wish an island to be; because, of course, they had made it themselves, and of course they knew exactly what they wanted. I can’t describe that week. I only know that Philip will never forget it. Just think of all the things you could do on a magic island if you were there with your dearest dear, and you’ll know how Philip spent his time.
He enjoyed every minute of every hour of every day, and, best thing of all, that week made him understand, as nothing else could have done, that Helen still belonged to him, and that her marriage to Mr. Graham had not made her any the less Philip’s very own Helen.
And then came a day when Philip, swinging in a magnolia tree, looked out to sea and cried out, ‘A sail! a sail! Oh, Helen, here’s the ark! Now it’s all over. Let’s have Lucy to stay with us, and send the other people away,’ he added, sliding down the tree-trunk with his face very serious.
‘But we can’t, dear,’ Helen reminded him. ‘The island’s ours, you know; and as long as it’s ours no one else can land on it. We made it like that, you know.’
‘Then they can’t land?’
‘No,’ said Helen.
‘Can’t we change the rule and let them land?’
‘No,’ said Helen.
‘Oh, it is a pity,’ Philip said; ‘because the island is the place for islanders, isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ said Helen, ‘and there’s no fear of the sea here; you remember we made it like that when we made the island?’
‘Yes,’ said Philip. ‘Oh, Helen, I don’t want to.’
‘Then don’t,’ said Helen.
‘Then do,’ said she.
‘But don’t you see, when you want to and don’t want to at the same time, what are you to do? There are so many things to think of.’
‘When it’s like that, there’s one thing you mustn’t think of,’ she said.
‘What?’ Philip asked.
‘Yourself,’ she said softly.
There was a silence, and then Philip suddenly hugged his sister and she hugged him.
‘I’ll give it to them,’ he said; ‘it’s no use. I know I ought to. I shall only be uncomfortable if I don’t.’
Helen laughed. ‘My boy of boys!’ she said. And then she looked sad. ‘Boy of my heart,’ she said, ‘you know it’s not only giving up our island. If we give it away I must go. It’s the only place that there’s a door into out of my dreams.’
‘I can’t let you go,’ he said.
‘But you’ve got your deeds to do,’ she said, ‘and I can’t help you in those. Lucy can help you, but I can’t. You like Lucy now, don’t you?’
‘Oh, I don’t mind her,’ said Philip; ‘but it’s you I want, Helen.’
‘Don’t think about that,’ she urged. ‘Think what the islanders want. Think what it’ll be to them to have the island, to live here always, safe from the fear!’
‘There are three more deeds,’ said Philip dismally; ‘I don’t think I shall ever want any more adventures as long as I live.’
‘You’ll always want them,’ she said, laughing at him gently, ‘always. And now let’s do the thing handsomely and give them a splendid welcome. Give me a kiss and then we’ll gather heaps of roses.’
So they kissed each other. But Philip was very unhappy indeed, though he felt that he was being rather noble and that Helen thought so too, which was naturally a great comfort.
There had been a good deal more of this talk than I have set down. Philip and Helen had hardly had time to hang garlands of pink roses along the quayside where the Lightning Loose, that perfect yacht, lay at anchor, before the blunt prow of the ark bumped heavily against the quayside — and the two, dropping the rest of the roses, waved and smiled to the group on the ark’s terrace.
The first person to speak was Mr. Perrin, who shouted, ‘Here we are again!’ like a clown.
Then Lucy said, ‘We know we can’t land, but the oracle said come and we came.’ She leaned over the bulwark to whisper, ‘Who’s that perfect duck you’ve got with you?’
Philip answered aloud:
‘This is my sister Helen — Helen this is Lucy.’
The two looked at each other, and then Helen held out her hands and she and Lucy kissed each other.
‘I knew I should like you,’ Lucy whispered, ‘but I didn’t know I should like you quite so much.’
Mr. Noah and Mr. Perrin were both bowing to Helen, a little stiffly but very cordially all the same, and quite surprisingly without surprise. And the Lord High Islander was looking at her with his own friendly jolly schoolboy grin.
‘If you will embark,’ said Mr. Noah politely, ‘we can return to the mainland, and I will explain to you your remaining deeds.’
‘Tell them, Pip,’ said Helen.
‘We don’t want to embark — at present,’ said Philip shyly. ‘We want you to land.’
‘No one may land on the island save two,’ said Mr. Noah. ‘I am glad you are the two. I feared one of the two might be the Pretenderette.’
‘Not much,’ said Philip. ‘It’s Helen’s and mine. We made it. And we want to give it to the islanders to keep. For their very own,’ he added, feeling that it would be difficult for any one to believe that such a glorious present was really being made just like that, without speeches, as if it had been a little present of a pencil sharpener or a peg-top.
He was right.
‘To keep?’ said the Lord High Islander; ‘for our very own? Always?’
‘Yes,’ said Philip. ‘And there’s no fear here. You’ll really be “happy troops” now.’
For a moment nobody said anything, though all the faces were expressive. Then the Lord High Islander spoke.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘of all the brickish bricks — —’ and could say no more.
‘There are lots of houses,’ said Philip, ‘and room for all the animals, and the island is thirty miles round, so there’s lots of room for the animals and everything.’ He felt happier than he had ever done in his life. Giving presents is always enjoyable, and this was such a big and beautiful present, and he loved it so.
‘I always did say Master Pip was a gentleman, and I always shall,’ Mr. Perrin remarked.
‘I congratulate you,’ said Mr. Noah, ‘and I am happy to announce that your fifth deed is now accomplished. You remember our empty silver fruit-dishes? Your fifth deed was to be the supplying of Polistarchia with fruit. This island is the only place in the kingdom where fruit grows. The ark will serve to convey the fruit to the mainland, and the performance of this deed raises you to the rank of Duke.’
‘Philip, you’re a dear,’ said Lucy in a whisper.
‘Shut up,’ said Philip fiercely.
‘Three cheers,’ said a familiar voice, ‘for the Duke of Donors.’
‘Three cheers,’ repeated the Lord High Islander, ‘for the Duke of Donors.’
What a cheer! All the islanders cheered and the M.A.’s and Lucy and Mr. Perrin and Mr. Noah, and from the inside of the ark came enthusiastic barkings and gruntings and roarings and squeakings — as the animals of course joined in as well as they could. Thousands of gulls, circling on white wings in the sun above, added their screams to the general chorus. And when the sound of the last cheer died away, a little near familiar voice said:
‘Well done, Philip! I’m proud of you.’
It was the parrot who, perched on the rigging of the Lightning Loose, had started the cheering.
‘So that’s all right,’ it said, fluttered on to Philip’s shoulder and added, ‘I’ve heard you calling for me on the island all the week. But I felt I needed a rest. I’ve been talking too much. And that Pretenderette. And that cage. I assure you I needed a little time to get over my adventures.’
‘We have all had our adventures,’ said Mr. Noah gently. And Helen said:
‘Won’t you land and take possession of the island? I’m sure we are longing to hear each other’s adventures.’
‘You first,’ said Mr. Noah to the Lord High Islander, who stepped ashore very gravely.
When Helen saw him come forward, she suddenly kissed Philip, and as the Lord High Islander’s foot touched the shore of that enchanted island, she simply and suddenly vanished.
‘Oh!’ cried Philip, ‘I wish I hadn’t.’ And his mouth trembled as girls’ mouths do if they are going to cry.
‘The more a present costs you, the more it’s worth,’ said Mr. Noah. ‘This has cost you so much, it’s the most splendid present in the world.’
‘I know,’ said Philip; ‘make yourselves at home, won’t you?’ he just managed to say. And then he found he could not say any more. He just turned and went into the forest. And when he was alone in a green glade, he flung himself down on his face and lay a long time without moving. It had been such a happy week. And he was so tired of adventures.
When at last he sniffed with an air of finality and raised his head, the first thing he saw was Lucy, sitting quite still with her back to him.
‘Hullo!’ he said rather crossly, ‘what are you doing here?’
‘Saying the multiplication table,’ said Lucy promptly and turned her head, ‘so as not even to think about you. And I haven’t even once turned round. I knew you wanted to be alone. But I wanted to be here when you’d done being alone. See? I’ve got something to say to you.’
‘Fire ahead,’ said Philip, still grumpy.
‘I think you’re perfectly splendid,’ said Lucy very seriously, ‘and I want it to be real pax for ever. And I’ll help you in the rest of the adventures. And if you’re cross, I’ll try no
t to mind. Napoleon was cross sometimes, I believe,’ she added pensively, ‘and Julius Caesar.’
‘Oh, that’s all right,’ said Philip very awkwardly.
‘Then we’re going to be real chums?’
‘Oh yes, if you like. Only — I don’t mind just this once; and it was decent of you to come and sit there with your back to me — only I hate gas.’
‘Yes,’ said Lucy obediently, ‘I know. Only sometimes you feel you must gas a little or burst of admiration. And I’ve got your proper clothes in a bundle. I’ve been carrying them about ever since the islanders’ castle was washed away. Here they are.’
She produced the bundle. And this time Philip was really touched.
‘Now I do call that something like,’ he said. ‘The seaweed dress is all right here, but you never know what you may have to go through when you’re doing adventures. There might be thorns or snakes or anything. I’m jolly glad to get my boots back too. I say, come on. Let’s go to Helen’s palace and get a banquet ready. I know there’ll have to be a banquet. There always is, here. I know a first-rate bun-tree quite near here.’
‘The cocoa-nut-ice plants looked beautiful as I came along,’ said Lucy. ‘What a lovely island it is. And you made it!’
‘No gas,’ said Philip warningly. ‘Helen and I made it.’
‘She’s the dearest darling,’ said Lucy.
‘Oh, well,’ said Philip with resignation, ‘if you must gas, gas about her.’
The banquet was all that you can imagine of interesting and magnificent. And Philip was, of course, the hero of the hour. And when the banquet was finished and the last guest had departed to its own house — for the houses on the island were of course all ready to be occupied, furnished to the last point of comfort, with pin-cushions full of pins in every room, Mr. Noah and Lucy and Philip sat down on the terrace steps among the pink roses for a last little talk.
‘Because,’ said Philip, ‘we shall start the first thing in the morning. So please will you tell me now what the next deed is that I have to do?’