Knock Three Times! Read online

  CHAPTER III

  _The Other Side of the Tree_

  The two children gazed in astonishment at the unfamiliar scene infront of them, for here was a place they had never seen before, andyet, apparently, a place within ten minutes' walk of their home--aplace that led out of the little wood at the end of their garden. Andthey thought they knew every nook and corner of that wood, and of thefields and lanes beyond for several miles round their house. Yet herewas a place they had never seen before; and, more puzzling still, thesoft glow of evening and sunset had taken the place of the moonlightand gloom which had been all around them in the wood. For they werestill standing close to the same big old tree, but instead of thewood continuing for a quarter of a mile on, and ending at the edge ofFarmer Hart's cornfields as it always _had_ done, it ended abruptlyright in front of them, by the side of a broad white road. This roadstretched away to the left, up and up a big hill. You could see itwinding like a white ribbon, bordered by the green and brown trees ofthe woods that clustered on each side. And, at the top of the hill,where the road ended, glistened the white walls and roofs of a distantcity. To the right the road continued past the wood where the childrenwere standing, and sloped down, down, till it was lost to sight in theburning crimson and gold afterglow of the sunset.

  Jack and Molly looked up the road and down the road, but all wassilent, and not a soul in sight. Then a wisp of blue smoke among thetrees on the opposite side of the road caught their attention, and theysaw that it was curling from the chimney of a snug little red-roofedcottage, which nestled, half hidden, on the fringe of the wood acrossthe road.

  The children looked at each other in bewilderment. Then they turned andexamined the giant tree behind them, but that did not help them much.It was certainly the same tree, but it was not the same wood. Somethingqueer had happened--it did not seem to be even the same country.They looked up and down the road again, and behind them and beforethem--and listened. But all was silent. Their eyes wandered back to thecurling blue smoke, the only sign of life within sight.

  "Better ask some one where we've got to," said Jack, eyeing the smoke.

  "But where's IT gone?" began Molly, then broke off quickly. "Hush!What's that!" she said.

  She plucked Jack's sleeve and drew him into the shadow of the trees. Adistant sound of voices came floating through the still evening air.There were evidently two speakers, for, as the sounds drew nearer thechildren could hear a high, loud, jolly voice, flowing continuously,and punctuated every now and then by a low, mumbling voice. After a fewseconds the words of the high-voiced speaker became distinguishable.

  "Stuff and nonsense!" it cried shrilly. "Pull yourself together,Father. Come now, come now, snap your fingers in its face! Laugh at it,I say, and--tss----" The speaker made a little hissing noise. "Where isit?"

  The other voice here murmured some reply too low for the children tocatch.

  "What's that?" replied the first speaker. "No--not _you_. But I'll tellyou what will happen, you'll be having an attack of melancholia----"

  "Oh, not that, not that!" The low voice was raised and pleading. "Don'ttalk of melons, Glan, don't, I pray you. They make me think of thoselemons--and the--and----"

  "Now don't you think of that any more," ordered the high voice. "Come,come, come. Pull yourself together...."

  The speakers became visible, wending their way through the wood inwhich the children were standing. One was a young, fat, rosy-cheekedman, with a jolly smile, wearing a white overall and white baker'scap; he was clean-shaven, and was the possessor of the high voice. Hiscompanion was a striking contrast to him, being old and thin and pale,with a long white beard; he was dressed in a rich, dark-coloured robe,and had a number of keys dangling from his belt. They pulled up shortwhen they caught sight of Jack and Molly; then advanced slowly, withsidelong glances at each other and low whispers.

  Molly stepped forward.

  "If you please," she said, very politely, "could you tell us where weare?"

  "Could you tell us _who_ you are, little lady?--that's more to thepoint," said the young man pleasantly.

  "I'm Molly, and this is my brother Jack," the little girl replied;which did not enlighten the young man very much.

  The old man gazed at them with his small, dull eyes, and ran hisfingers nervously through his beard.

  "We've only just come--through that tree," volunteered Jack, pointingto the giant tree behind them.

  "Through the tree!" exclaimed the old man and the young man together.

  "Then you are from the Impossible World," added the young man in anexcited, high voice.

  "We live in England," said Jack with dignity.

  "That may be. I don't know England. But if it lies on the other side ofthat Tree it is in the Impossible World."

  "Why do you call it that?" asked Molly.

  "Because that's its name in our geography books. This is the PossibleWorld, and always was--except----" The young man glanced at the oldman, who turned his head aside.

  "Don't speak of that," groaned the old man.

  "Cheer up, Father," cried the young man. "Pull yourself together now.Snap your fingers and--tss--it is gone, remember." And he beamedencouragingly down at the thin little old man beside him, who onlylooked more depressed than ever at his son's efforts to cheer him up.

  "But how is it we've played in this wood--I mean that wood--ever somany times and never found our way here before?" inquired Jack.

  "Because though you've walked _round_ that tree many times you've nevercome _through_ it before," said the young man. "There are two sides toevery tree, just as there are two sides to every question. When you'walk round' a question, do you see both its sides? No. It is onlyif you go _into_ a question that you see this side and that. Well,then--when you only walked round that tree it stands to sense that youcouldn't find yourself here. But when you go into the tree--tss"--hethrew out his hand--"behold! here you are. It's perfectly simple."

  It certainly sounded sensible and quite simple as the young manexplained it, but Jack and Molly still felt rather mystified.

  "But _why_ do you call ours the Impossible World?" asked Jack.

  "Because it's full of impossible things," replied the young man."Impossible people, impossible ideas, impossible laws, impossiblehouses, there is so much impossible misery and injustice, andimpossible talk, that it's quite impossible for any possible creatureto live in it. On the other hand, this land (which is the other side ofyours) is the Possible World now; for a time it was Impossible, but wesent----" Here the old man winced. "I'm sorry, Father. But you must letme tell the little lady and her brother where they are. I know. You goand sit down under that tree, and think of buttercups."

  "But they're the colour of lemons," whined the old man feebly.

  "Not all of them--think of the ones that aren't. There; run along. Ishan't be two minutes explaining."

  And he patted his father on the shoulder as the old man shuffled acrossthe leaves to the foot of a tree some yards away, where he sat down,and remained shaking his head and looking on the ground, mumbling tohimself, while the young man explained the cause of his depression toJack and Molly.

  "It's this way!" he began, after glancing over his shoulder to makesure his Father couldn't hear. "For hundreds of years this has beenthe Possible World, because it was possible for everyone in it to behappy. But there came a time when an evil influence crept into the landand made it Impossible. It was through this evil Thing that my Father,who was one of the King's Advisers, lost his place at Court. The wholecountry was under a cloud. Then, Old Nancy--she lives in the cottageyonder"--he pointed to the little red-roofed cottage with the smokecurling from the chimney, on the opposite side of the road--"Old Nancy,she discovered a spell, and she saved us--she banished the evil Thingto the Impossible World and our world became Possible again. Lately, myFather has been afflicted with dreams that he says always come to himbefore trouble overtakes the country, and he fears by some mishap thatthe country may become Impossible again."
/>   "What does he dream of?" inquired Molly.

  "Lemons," said the young man; "and do what I can I cannot shake himout of the gloom into which he has fallen.... It's strange," the youngman continued, "but poor old Father seems the only person who did notcheer up when the World became Possible again. It was a nasty shockfor him, being banished from Court; and although they've taken himback and given him another post--I suppose he's getting old. And thenthose dreams----" Glan's face became serious for a moment. "However,they mean nothing, I'm sure. And now you are here you'd like to seeour Possible Country, wouldn't you? I'm afraid as you are from theImpossible World you'll have to get a Pass before you can come into theCity--but that'll be all right. You must come and have tea with us. Iopened a little baker's and pastry-cook's business when Father losthis place at Court, and I still keep it up--fascinating work, makingpuff pastry and currant buns. I run a special line in gooseberry-jampuffs. I used to do a lovely line in lemon cheese-cakes, but I've hadto leave them off since Father's had those dreams. He can't bear to bereminded----" He stopped, a little out of breath.

  "We'd love to come up to the City; where can we get a Pass?" said Molly.

  "But, I say, what about that thing we were following," broke in Jack,suddenly remembering what it was they had followed through the tree;the interest of meeting their new acquaintances had made the childrenforget for a few minutes. "We'd forgotten, hadn't we, Molly? We werereally following a Pumpkin, you know," he said, turning to the youngman.

  "A what!" and the young man's voice rose to a shriek, and his eyes grewround.

  "A Pumpkin," faltered Jack, a little dismayed, "A Grey Pumpkin."

  "Father! Father! It's come back," shouted the young man, wheeling roundexcitedly.

  "Come back!" repeated the old man, rising to his feet and stumblingtoward them. "Come back! What has come back? Not the--not----"

  "The Pumpkin," gasped Glan, his fat, jolly face pale and his handstrembling.

  "Oh, my heart and soul," cried the old man, his eyes wild with fear,wringing his hands together. "What did I warn you! What did I warnyou! I said those lemons meant trouble. Oh, my heart and soul, whatshall we do!"

  The father and son stared wildly into each other's eyes for a second.

  "What shall we do, Glan? What shall we do?" the old man quavered,shaking from head to foot.

  "Where has the Pumpkin gone?" asked Glan, turning to the children.

  "We don't know," said Molly, frightened at the distress of the two men."It came through the tree before us, we followed it, and by the time wegot through it had disappeared."

  "I must go and spread the alarm. I must go and warn. Oh, my heart andsoul!" the old man sobbed, and turning, he stumbled out on to the whiteroad and waddled rapidly up the hill toward the walls of the city,mumbling and chattering and sobbing to himself, the keys at his beltjangling a dismal accompaniment.

  "If it's back, then the country will be Impossible again," groanedGlan. "It was through the Grey Pumpkin that it became Impossiblebefore. But just tell me quickly--how did it happen? What do you knowabout the Pumpkin, and where did you first see it?"

  The children explained as quickly as they could, while Glan stoodnodding his head and glancing every other second over his shoulder atthe receding figure of his father.

  "I wondered how you discovered the three knocks on the tree," hemuttered. "It can only be done when the moon is full, you know. Youdidn't know? I thought you might have discovered it accidentally, whenyou were playing, p'raps. Somebody from the Impossible World did thatbefore--many years ago. Well, go on."

  The children finished their story.

  "Oh, it's the Pumpkin right enough," said Glan. "Now what can havehappened. Old Nancy must have forgotten the usual sunset spell.... No,no, she'd never forget ... she's never forgotten. There must be foulplay somewhere. We must go to her at once and see what's happened.Come!"

  And followed by the two children he hurriedly crossed the road to thelittle cottage opposite, and rapped loudly with his knuckles on thedoor.