by E. Nesbit
VIII
JUSTNOWLAND
'Auntie! No, no, no! I will be good. Oh, I will!' The little weak voicecame from the other side of the locked attic door.
'You should have thought of that before,' said the strong, sharp voiceoutside.
'I didn't mean to be naughty. I didn't, truly.'
'It's not what you mean, miss, it's what you do. I'll teach you not tomean, my lady.'
The bitter irony of the last words dried the child's tears. 'Very well,then,' she screamed, 'I won't be good; I won't try to be good. I thoughtyou'd like your nasty old garden weeded. I only did it to please you.How was I to know it was turnips? It looked just like weeds.' Then camea pause, then another shriek. 'Oh, Auntie, don't! Oh, let me out--let meout!'
'I'll not let you out till I've broken your spirit, my girl; you mayrely on that.'
The sharp voice stopped abruptly on a high note; determined feet instrong boots sounded on the stairs--fainter, fainter; a door slammedbelow with a dreadful definiteness, and Elsie was left alone, to wonderhow soon her spirit would break--for at no less a price, it appeared,could freedom be bought.
The outlook seemed hopeless. The martyrs and heroines, with whom Elsieusually identified herself, _their_ spirit had never been broken; notchains nor the rack nor the fiery stake itself had even weakened them.Imprisonment in an attic would to them have been luxury compared withthe boiling oil and the smoking faggots and all the intimate crueltiesof mysterious instruments of steel and leather, in cold dungeons, litonly by the dull flare of torches and the bright, watchful eyes ofinquisitors.
A month in the house of 'Auntie' self-styled, and really only anunrelated Mrs. Staines, paid to take care of the child, had held but oneinterest--Foxe's Book of Martyrs. It was a horrible book--the thickoleographs, their guarding sheets of tissue paper sticking to the printslike bandages to a wound.... Elsie knew all about wounds: she had hadone herself. Only a scalded hand, it is true, but a wound is a wound,all the world over. It was a book that made you afraid to go to bed; butit was a book you could not help reading. And now it seemed as though itmight at last help, and not merely sicken and terrify. But the help wasfrail, and broke almost instantly on the thought--'_They_ were bravebecause they were good: how can I be brave when there's nothing to bebrave about except me not knowing the difference between turnips andweeds?'
She sank down, a huddled black bunch on the bare attic floor, and calledwildly to some one who could not answer her. Her frock was black becausethe one who always used to answer could not answer any more. And herfather was in India, where you cannot answer, or even hear, your littlegirl, however much she cries in England.
'I won't cry,' said Elsie, sobbing as violently as ever. 'I can bebrave, even if I'm not a saint but only a turnip-mistaker. I'll be aBastille prisoner, and tame a mouse!' She dried her eyes, though thebosom of the black frock still heaved like the sea after a storm, andlooked about for a mouse to tame. One could not begin too soon. Butunfortunately there seemed to be no mouse at liberty just then. Therewere mouse-holes right enough, all round the wainscot, and in the broad,time-worn boards of the old floor. But never a mouse.
'Mouse, mouse!' Elsie called softly. 'Mousie, mousie, come and betamed!'
Not a mouse replied.
The attic was perfectly empty and dreadfully clean. The other attic,Elsie knew, had lots of interesting things in it--old furniture andsaddles, and sacks of seed potatoes,--but in this attic nothing. Not somuch as a bit of string on the floor that one could make knots in, ortwist round one's finger till it made the red ridges that are sointeresting to look at afterwards; not even a piece of paper in thedraughty, cold fireplace that one could make paper boats of, or prickletters in with a pin or the tag of one's shoe-laces.
As she stooped to see whether under the grate some old match-box or bitof twig might have escaped the broom, she saw suddenly what she hadwanted most--a mouse. It was lying on its side. She put out her handvery slowly and gently, and whispered in her softest tones, 'Wake up,Mousie, wake up, and come and be tamed.' But the mouse never moved. Andwhen she took it in her hand it was cold.
'Oh,' she moaned, 'you're dead, and now I can never tame you'; and shesat on the cold hearth and cried again, with the dead mouse in her lap.
'Don't cry,' said somebody. 'I'll find you something to tame--if youreally want it.'
Elsie started and saw the head of a black bird peering at her throughthe square opening that leads to the chimney. The edges of him lookedragged and rainbow-coloured, but that was because she saw him throughtears. To a tearless eye he was black and very smooth and sleek.
'Oh!' she said, and nothing more.
'Quite so,' said the bird politely. 'You are surprised to hear me speak,but your surprise will be, of course, much less when I tell you that Iam really a Prime Minister condemned by an Enchanter to wear the form ofa crow till ... till I can get rid of it.'
'Oh!' said Elsie.
'Yes, indeed,' said the Crow, and suddenly grew smaller till he couldcome comfortably through the square opening. He did this, perched on thetop bar, and hopped to the floor. And there he got bigger and bigger,and bigger and bigger and bigger. Elsie had scrambled to her feet, andthen a black little girl of eight and of the usual size stood face toface with a crow as big as a man, and no doubt as old. She found wordsthen.
'Oh, don't!' she cried. 'Don't get any bigger. I can't bear it.'
'_I_ can't _do_ it,' said the Crow kindly, 'so that's all right. Ithought you'd better get used to seeing rather large crows before I takeyou to Crownowland. We are all life-size there.'
'But a crow's life-size isn't a man's life-size,' Elsie managed to say.
'Oh yes, it is--when it's an enchanted Crow,' the bird replied. 'Thatmakes all the difference. Now you were saying you wanted to tamesomething. If you'll come with me to Crownowland I'll show you somethingworth taming.'
'Is Crow-what's-its-name a nice place?' Elsie asked cautiously. She was,somehow, not so very frightened now.
'Very,' said the Crow.
'Then perhaps I shall like it so much I sha'n't want to be tamingthings.'
'Oh yes, you will, when you know how much depends on it.'
'But I shouldn't like,' said Elsie, 'to go up the chimney. This isn't mybest frock, of course, but still....'
'Quite so,' said the Crow. 'I only came that way for fun, and because Ican fly. You shall go in by the chief gate of the kingdom, like a lady.Do come.'
But Elsie still hesitated. 'What sort of thing is it you want me totame?' she said doubtfully.
The enormous crow hesitated. 'A--a sort of lizard,' it said at last.'And if you can only tame it so that it will do what you tell it to,you'll save the whole kingdom, and we'll put up a statue to you; but notin the People's Park, unless they wish it,' the bird added mysteriously.
'I should like to save a kingdom,' said Elsie, 'and I like lizards. I'veseen lots of them in India.'
'Then you'll come?' said the Crow.
'Yes. But how do we go?'
'There are only two doors out of this world into another,' said theCrow. 'I'll take you through the nearest. Allow me!' It put its winground her so that her face nestled against the black softness of theunder-wing feathers. It was warm and dark and sleepy there, and verycomfortable. For a moment she seemed to swim easily in a soft sea ofdreams. Then, with a little shock, she found herself standing on amarble terrace, looking out over a city far more beautiful andwonderful than she had ever seen or imagined. The great man-sized Crowwas by her side.
'Now,' it said, pointing with the longest of its long blackwing-feathers, 'you see this beautiful city?'
'Yes,' said Elsie, 'of course I do.'
'Well ... I hardly like to tell you the story,' said the Crow, 'but it'sa long time ago, and I hope you won't think the worse of us--becausewe're really very sorry.'
'If you're really sorry,' said Elsie primly, 'of course it's all right.'
'Unfortunately it isn't,' said the Crow. 'You see the great square d
ownthere?'
Elsie looked down on a square of green trees, broken a little towardsthe middle.
'Well, that's where the ... where _it_ is--what you've got to tame, youknow.'
'But what did you do that was wrong?'
'We were unkind,' said the Crow slowly, 'and unjust, and ungenerous. Wehad servants and workpeople doing everything for us; we had nothing todo _but_ be kind. And we weren't.'
'Dear me,' said Elsie feebly.
'We had several warnings,' said the Crow. 'There was an old parchment,and it said just how you ought to behave and all that. But we didn'tcare what it said. I was Court Magician as well as Prime Minister, and Iought to have known better, but I didn't. We all wore frock-coats andhigh hats then,' he added sadly.
'Go on,' said Elsie, her eyes wandering from one beautiful building toanother of the many that nestled among the trees of the city.
'And the old parchment said that if we didn't behave well our bodieswould grow like our souls. But we didn't think so. And then all in aminute they _did_--and we were crows, and our bodies were as black asour souls. Our souls are quite white now,' it added reassuringly.
'But what was _the_ dreadful thing you'd done?'
'We'd been unkind to the people who worked for us--not given them enoughfood or clothes or fire, and at last we took away even their play. Therewas a big park that the people played in, and we built a wall round itand took it for ourselves, and the King was going to set a statue ofhimself up in the middle. And then before we could begin to enjoy it wewere turned into big black crows; and the working people into big whitepigeons--and _they_ can go where they like, but we have to stay heretill we've tamed the.... We never can go into the park, until we'vesettled the thing that guards it. And that thing's a big big lizard--infact ... it's a _dragon_!'
'_Oh!_' cried Elsie; but she was not as frightened as the Crow seemed toexpect. Because every now and then she had felt sure that she was reallysafe in her own bed, and that this was a dream. It was not a dream, butthe belief that it was made her very brave, and she felt quite sure thatshe could settle a dragon, if necessary--a dream dragon, that is. Andthe rest of the time she thought about Foxe's Book of Martyrs and what aheroine she now had the chance to be.
'You want me to kill it?' she asked.
'Oh no! To tame it,' said the Crow.
'We've tried all sorts of means--long whips, like people tame horseswith, and red-hot bars, such as lion-tamers use--and it's all beenperfectly useless; and there the dragon lives, and will live till someone can tame him and get him to follow them like a tame fawn, and eatout of their hand.'
'What does the dragon _like_ to eat?' Elsie asked.
'_Crows_,' replied the other in an uncomfortable whisper. 'At least_I've_ never known it eat anything else!'
'Am I to try to tame it _now_?' Elsie asked.
'Oh dear no,' said the Crow. 'We'll have a banquet in your honour, andyou shall have tea with the Princess.'
'How do you know who is a princess and who's not, if you're all crows?'Elsie cried.
'How do you know one human being from another?' the Crow replied.'Besides ... Come on to the Palace.'
It led her along the terrace, and down some marble steps to a smallarched door. 'The tradesmen's entrance,' it explained. 'Excuse it--thecourtiers are crowding in by the front door.' Then through longcorridors and passages they went, and at last into the throne-room. Manycrows stood about in respectful attitudes. On the golden throne, leaninga gloomy head upon the first joint of his right wing, the Sovereign ofCrownowland was musing dejectedly. A little girl of about Elsie's agesat on the steps of the throne nursing a handsome doll.
'Who is the little girl?' Elsie asked.
'_Curtsey!_ That's the Princess,' the Prime Minister Crow whispered; andElsie made the best curtsey she could think of in such a hurry. 'Shewasn't wicked enough to be turned into a crow, or poor enough to beturned into a pigeon, so she remains a dear little girl, just as shealways was.'
The Princess dropped her doll and ran down the steps of the throne tomeet Elsie.
'You dear!' she said. 'You've come to play with me, haven't you? Allthe little girls I used to play with have turned into crows, and theirbeaks are _so_ awkward at doll's tea-parties, and wings are no good tonurse dollies with. Let's have a doll's tea-party _now_, shall we?'
'May we?' Elsie looked at the Crow King, who nodded his head hopelessly.So, hand in hand, they went.
I wonder whether you have ever had the run of a perfectly beautifulpalace and a nursery absolutely crammed with all the toys you ever hador wanted to have: dolls' houses, dolls' china tea-sets, rocking-horses,bricks, nine-pins, paint-boxes, conjuring tricks, pewterdinner-services, and any number of dolls--all most agreeable anddistinguished. If you have, you may perhaps be able faintly to imagineElsie's happiness. And better than all the toys was the PrincessPerdona--so gentle and kind and jolly, full of ideas for games, andsurrounded by the means for playing them. Think of it, after that bareattic, with not even a bit of string to play with, and no company butthe poor little dead mouse!
There is no room in this story to tell you of all the games they had. Ican only say that the time went by so quickly that they never noticed itgoing, and were amazed when the Crown nursemaid brought in the royaltea-tray. Tea was a beautiful meal--with pink iced cake in it.
Now, all the time that these glorious games had been going on, and thismagnificent tea, the wisest crows of Crownowland had been holding acouncil. They had decided that there was no time like the present, andthat Elsie had better try to tame the dragon soon as late. 'But,' theKing said, 'she mustn't run any risks. A guard of fifty stalwart crowsmust go with her, and if the dragon shows the least temper, fifty crowsmust throw themselves between her and danger, even if it cost fifty-onecrow-lives. For I myself will lead that band. Who will volunteer?'
Volunteers, to the number of some thousands, instantly stepped forward,and the Field Marshal selected fifty of the strongest crows.
And then, in the pleasant pinkness of the sunset, Elsie was led out onto the palace steps, where the King made a speech and said what aheroine she was, and how like Joan of Arc. And the crows who hadgathered from all parts of the town cheered madly. Did you ever hearcrows cheering? It is a wonderful sound.
Then Elsie got into a magnificent gilt coach, drawn by eight whitehorses, with a crow at the head of each horse. The Princess sat with heron the blue velvet cushions and held her hand.
'I _know_ you'll do it,' said she; 'you're so brave and clever, Elsie!'
And Elsie felt braver than before, although now it did not seem so likea dream. But she thought of the martyrs, and held Perdona's hand verytight.
At the gates of the green park the Princess kissed and hugged her newfriend--her state crown, which she had put on in honour of the occasion,got pushed quite on one side in the warmth of her embrace--and Elsiestepped out of the carriage. There was a great crowd of crows round thepark gates, and every one cheered and shouted 'Speech, speech!'
Elsie got as far as 'Ladies and gentlemen--Crows, I mean,' and then shecould not think of anything more, so she simply added, 'Please, I'mready.'
I wish you could have heard those crows cheer.
But Elsie wouldn't have the escort.
'It's very kind,' she said, 'but the dragon only eats crows, and I'm nota crow, thank goodness--I mean I'm not a crow--and if I've got to bebrave I'd like to _be_ brave, and none of you to get eaten. If only someone will come with me to show me the way and then run back as hard as hecan when we get near the dragon. _Please!_'
'If only one goes _I_ shall be the one,' said the King. And he and Elsiewent through the great gates side by side. She held the end of his wing,which was the nearest they could get to hand in hand.
The crowd outside waited in breathless silence. Elsie and the King wenton through the winding paths of the People's Park. And by the windingpaths they came at last to the Dragon. He lay very peacefully on a greatstone slab, his enormous bat-like wings spread ou
t on the grass and hisgoldy-green scales glittering in the pretty pink sunset light.
'Go back!' said Elsie.
'No,' said the King.
'If you don't,' said Elsie, '_I_ won't go _on_. Seeing a crow mightrouse him to fury, or give him an appetite, or something. Do--do go!'
So he went, but not far. He hid behind a tree, and from its shelter hewatched.
Elsie drew a long breath. Her heart was thumping under the black frock.'Suppose,' she thought, 'he takes me for a crow!' But she thought howyellow her hair was, and decided that the dragon would be certain tonotice that.
'Quick march!' she said to herself, 'remember Joan of Arc,' and walkedright up to the dragon. It never moved, but watched her suspiciously outof its bright green eyes.
'Dragon dear!' she said in her clear little voice.
'_Eh?_' said the dragon, in tones of extreme astonishment.
'Dragon dear,' she repeated, 'do you like sugar?'
'_Yes_,' said the dragon.
'Well, I've brought you some. You won't hurt me if I bring it to you?'
The dragon violently shook its vast head.
'It's not much,' said Elsie, 'but I saved it at tea-time. Four lumps.Two for each of my mugs of milk.'
She laid the sugar on the stone slab by the dragon's paw.
It turned its head towards the sugar. The pinky sunset light fell on itsface, and Elsie saw that it was weeping! Great fat tears as big as prizepears were coursing down its wrinkled cheeks.
'Oh, don't,' said Elsie, '_don't_ cry! Poor dragon, what's the matter?'
'Oh!' sobbed the dragon, 'I'm only so glad you've come. I--I've been solonely. No one to love me. You _do_ love me, don't you?'
'I--I'm sure I shall when I know you better,' said Elsie kindly.
'Give me a kiss, dear,' said the dragon, sniffing.
It is no joke to kiss a dragon. But Elsie did it--somewhere on the hardgreen wrinkles of its forehead.
'Oh, _thank_ you,' said the dragon, brushing away its tears with the tipof its tail. 'That breaks the charm. I can move now. And I've got backall my lost wisdom. Come along--I _do_ want my tea!'
So, to the waiting crowd at the gate came Elsie and the dragon side byside. And at sight of the dragon, tamed, a great shout went up from thecrowd; and at that shout each one in the crowd turned quickly to thenext one--for it was the shout of men, and not of crows. Because at thefirst sight of the dragon, tamed, they had left off being crows for everand ever, and once again were men.
The King came running through the gates, his royal robes held high, sothat he shouldn't trip over them, and he too was no longer a crow, but aman.
And what did Elsie feel after being so brave? Well, she felt that shewould like to cry, and also to laugh, and she felt that she loved notonly the dragon, but every man, woman, and child in the wholeworld--even Mrs. Staines.
She rode back to the Palace on the dragon's back.
And as they went the crowd of citizens who had been crows met the crowdof citizens who had been pigeons, and these were poor men in poorclothes.
It would have done you good to see how the ones who had been rich andcrows ran to meet the ones who had been pigeons and poor.
'Come and stay at my house, brother,' they cried to those who had nohomes. 'Brother, I have many coats, come and choose some,' they cried tothe ragged. 'Come and feast with me!' they cried to all. And the richand the poor went off arm in arm to feast and be glad that night, andthe next day to work side by side. 'For,' said the King, speaking withhis hand on the neck of the tamed dragon, 'our land has been calledCrownowland. But we are no longer crows. We are men: and we will be Justmen. And our country shall be called Justnowland for ever and ever. Andfor the future we shall not be rich and poor, but fellow-workers, andeach will do his best for his brothers and his own city. And your Kingshall be your servant!'
I don't know how they managed this, but no one seemed to think thatthere would be any difficulty about it when the King mentioned it; andwhen people really make up their minds to do anything, difficulties domost oddly disappear.
Wonderful rejoicings there were. The city was hung with flags and lamps.Bands played--the performers a little out of practice, because, ofcourse, crows can't play the flute or the violin or the trombone--butthe effect was very gay indeed. Then came the time--it was quitedark--when the King rose up on his throne and spoke; and Elsie, amongall her new friends, listened with them to his words.
'Our deliverer Elsie,' he said, 'was brought hither by the good magic ofour Chief Mage and Prime Minister. She has removed the enchantment thatheld us; and the dragon, now that he has had his tea and recovered fromthe shock of being kindly treated, turns out to be the second strongestmagician in the world,--and he will help us and advise us, so long as weremember that we are all brothers and fellow-workers. And now comes thetime when our Elsie must return to her own place, or another go in herstead. But we cannot send back our heroine, our deliverer.' (_Long, loudcheering._) 'So one shall take her place. My daughter----'
The end of the sentence was lost in shouts of admiration. But Elsiestood up, small and white in her black frock, and said, 'No thank you.Perdona would simply hate it. And she doesn't know my daddy. He'll fetchme away from Mrs. Staines some day....'
The thought of her daddy, far away in India, of the loneliness of WillowFarm, where now it would be night in that horrible bare attic where thepoor dead untameable little mouse was, nearly choked Elsie. It was sobright and light and good and kind here. And India was so far away. Hervoice stayed a moment on a broken note.
'I--I....' Then she spoke firmly.
'Thank you all so much,' she said--'so very much. I do love you all, andit's lovely here. But, please, I'd like to go home now.'
The Prime Minister, in a silence full of love and understanding, foldedhis dark cloak round her.
* * * * *
It was dark in the attic. Elsie crouching alone in the blackness by thefireplace where the dead mouse had been, put out her hand to touch itscold fur.
* * * * *
There were wheels on the gravel outside--the knocker swungstrongly--'_Rat_-tat-tat-tat--_Tat_! _Tat_!' A pause--voices--hasty feetin strong boots sounded on the stairs, the key turned in the lock. Thedoor opened a dazzling crack, then fully, to the glare of a lampcarried by Mrs. Staines.
'Come down at once. I'm sure you're good now,' she said, in a greathurry and in a new honeyed voice.
But there were other feet on the stairs--a step that Elsie knew.'Where's my girl?' the voice she knew cried cheerfully. But under thecheerfulness Elsie heard something other and dearer. 'Where's my girl?'
After all, it takes less than a month to come from India to the house inEngland where one's heart is.
Out of the bare attic and the darkness Elsie leapt into light, into armsshe knew. 'Oh, my daddy, my daddy!' she cried. 'How glad I am I cameback!'