The House of Arden E. Nesbit (top android ebook reader TXT) đ
- Author: E. Nesbit
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And bade its messengers ride forth
East and West, South and North,
To let Elfrida out.âââ
But when she said it aloud nothing happened. âI wonder,â said Elfrida, âwhether itâs because we quarrelled, or because it just says he let me out and doesnât ask him to, or because I had to say Elfrida, to make it sound right, or because itâs such dreadful nonsense. Iâll try again.â
She tried again. This time she gotâ â
âââBehind the secret panelâs lines
The pensive Elfrida, reclines
And wishes she was at home.
At least I am at home, of course,
But things are getting worse and worse.
Dear Mole, come, come, come, come!âââ
She said it aloud, and when she came to the last words there was the white Mouldiwarp sitting on the floor at her feet and looking up at her with eyes that blinked.
âYou are good to come,â Elfrida said.
âWell, what do you want now?â said the Mole.
âIâ âI ought to tell you that I oughtnât to ask you to do anything, but I didnât think youâd come if it really counted as a quarrel. It was only a little one, and we were both sorry quite directly.â
âYou have a straightforward nature,â said the Mouldiwarp. âWell, well, I must say youâve got yourself into a nice hole!â
âIt would be a very nice hole,â said Elfrida eagerly, âif only the panel were open. I wouldnât mind how long I stayed here then. Thatâs funny, isnât it?â
âYes,â said the Mole. âWell, if you hadnât quarrelled I could get you into another timeâ âsome time when the panel was openâ âand you could just walk out. You shouldnât quarrel. It makes everything different. It puts dust into the works. It stops the wheels of the clock.â
âThe clock!â said Elfrida slowly. âCouldnât that work backwards?â
âI donât know what you mean,â said the Mole.
âI donât know that I quite know myself,â Elfrida explained; âbut the daisy-clock. You sit on the second hand and there isnât any timeâ âand yet thereâs lots where youâre not sitting. If I could sit on the daisy-clock the time wouldnât be anything before someone comes to let me out. But I canât get to the daisy-clock, even if youâd make it for me. So thatâs no good.â
âYou are a very clever little girl,â said the Mouldiwarp, âand all the clocks in the world arenât made of daisies. Move the tables and chairs back against the wall; weâll see what we can do for you.â
While Elfrida was carrying out this orderâ âthe white Mole stood on its hind feet and called out softly in a language she did not understand. Others understood it though, it seemed, for a white pigeon fluttered in through the window, and then another and another, till the room seemed full of circling wings and gentle cooings, and a shower of soft, white feathers fell like snow.
Then the Mole was silent, and one by one the white pigeons sailed back through the window into the blue and gold world of out-of-doors.
âGet up on a chair and keep out of the way,â said the Mouldiwarp. And Elfrida did.
And then a soft wind blew through the little roomâ âa wind like the wind that breathes softly in walled gardens and shakes down the rose-leaves on sparkling summer mornings. And the white feathers on the floor were stirred by the sweet wind, and drifted into little heaps and lines and curves till they made on the dusty floor the circle of a clock-face, with all its figures and its long hand and its short hand and its second hand. And the white Mole stood in the middle.
âAll white things obey me,â it said. âCome, sit down on the minute hand, and youâll be there in no time.â
âWhere?â asked Elfrida, getting off the chair.
âWhy, at the time when they open the panel. Let me get out of the clock first. And give me the key of the parlour door. Itâll save time in the end.â
So Elfrida sat down on the minute hand, and instantly it began to move roundâ âfaster than you can possibly imagine. And it was very soft to sit onâ âlike a cloud would be if the laws of nature ever permitted you to sit on clouds. And it spun round so that it seemed no time at all before she found herself sitting on the floor and heard voices, and knew that the secret panel was open.
âI see,â she said wisely, âit does work backwards, doesnât it?â
But there was no one to answer her, for the Mouldiwarp was gone. And the white pigeonsâ feathers were in heaps on the floor. She saw them, as she stood up. And there wasnât any clock-face any more.
Edred soon got tired of Red Cotton Nightcap Country, which really is not half such good fun as it sounds, even for grownups, and he tried several other books. But reading did not seem amusing, somehow. And the house was so much too quiet, and the clock outside ticked so much too loudâ âand Elfrida was shut up, and there were bars to the windows, and the door was locked. He walked about, and sat in each of the chairs in turn, but no one of them was comfortable. And his thoughts were not comfortable either. Suppose no one ever came to let them out! Supposing the years rolled on and found him still a prisoner, when he was a white-haired old man, like people in the Bastille, or in Iron Masks? His eyes filled with tears at the thought. Fortunately it did not occur to him that unless someone came pretty soon he would be unlikely to live to a great age, since people cannot live long without eating. If he had thought of this he would have been even more unhappy than he wasâ âand he was quite unhappy enough. Then he began to wonder if âanything had happenedâ to Elfrida. She was dreadfully quiet inside there behind the panel. He wished he had not quarrelled with her. Everything was very miserable. He
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