The E. Nesbit MEGAPACK ®: 26 Classic Novels and Stories. E. Nesbit
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 not 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?”