The Complete Works: Fantasy & Sci-Fi Novels, Religious Studies, Poetry & Autobiography. C. S. Lewis
Wither held out his hands in deprecation.
“Come on, Wither. I must,” said Miss Hardcastle.
“You don’t think he’ll smell it?” said Wither.
“I’m not going in without it, anyway,” said she.
The old man unlocked his cupboard and gave her whisky. Then the two left the study and went a long way, right over to the other side of the house where it joined on to the actual Blood Transfusion Offices. It was all dark at this hour in the morning, and they went by the light of Miss Hardcastle’s torch—on through carpeted and pictured passages into blank passages with rubberoid floors and distempered walls and then through a door they had to unlock, and then through another. All the way Miss Hardcastle’s booted feet made a noise, but the slippered feet of the Deputy Director made no noise at all. At last they came to a place where the lights were on and there was a mixture of animal and chemical smells, and then to a door which was opened to them after they had parleyed through a speaking tube. Filostrato, wearing a white coat, confronted them in the doorway.
“Enter,” said Filostrato. “He expect you for some time.”
“Is it in a bad temper?” said Miss Hardcastle.
“Sh!” said Wither. “And in any case, my dear lady, I don’t think that is quite the way in which one should speak of our Head. His sufferings—in his peculiar condition, you know——”
“You are to go in at once,” said Filostrato, “as soon as you have made yourselves ready.”
“Stop! Half a moment,” said Miss Hardcastle suddenly.
“What is it? Be quick, please,” said Filostrato.
“I’m going to be sick.”
“You cannot be sick here. Go back. I will give you some X54 at once.”
“It’s all right now,” said Miss Hardcastle. “It was only momentary. It’d take more than this to upset me.”
“Silence, please,” said the Italian. “Do not attempt to open the second door until my assistant has shut the first one behind you. Do not speak more than you can help. Do not even say yes when you are given an order. The Head will assume your obedience. Do not make sudden movements, do not get too close, do not shout, and, above all, do not argue. Now!”
II
Long after sunrise there came into Jane’s sleeping mind a sensation which, had she put it into words, would have sung, “Be glad thou sleeper and thy sorrow offcast. I am the gate to all good adventure.” And after she had waked and found herself lying in pleasant languor with winter morning sunlight falling across her bed, the mood continued. “He must let me stay here now,” she thought. Sometime after this Mrs. Maggs came in and lit the fire and brought her breakfast. Jane winced as she sat up in bed for some of the burns had stuck to the strange night-dress (rather too large for her) in which she found herself clad. There was an indefinable difference in Mrs. Maggs’ behaviour.
“It’s ever so nice, us both being here, isn’t it, Mrs. Studdock?” she said, and somehow the tone seemed to imply a closer relation than Jane had envisaged between them. But she was too lazy to wonder much about it.
Shortly after breakfast came Miss Ironwood. She examined and dressed the burns, which were not serious.
“You can get up in the afternoon, if you like, Mrs. Studdock,” she said. “I should just take a quiet day till then. What would you like to read? There’s a pretty large library.”
“I’d like the Curdie books, please,” said Jane, “and Mansfield Park and Shakespeare’s Sonnets.”
Having thus been provided with reading matter for several hours, she very comfortably went to sleep again.
When Mrs. Maggs looked in at about four o’clock to see if Jane was awake, Jane said she would like to get up.
“All right, Mrs. Studdock,” said Mrs. Maggs, “just as you like. I’ll bring you along a nice cup of tea in a minute and then I’ll get the bathroom ready for you. There’s a bathroom next door almost, only I’ll have to get that Mr. Bultitude out of it. He’s that lazy, and he will go in and sit there all day when it’s cold weather.”
As soon as Mrs. Maggs had gone, however, Jane decided to get up. She felt that her social abilities were quite equal to dealing with the eccentric Mr. Bultitude, and she did not want to waste any more time in bed. She had an idea that if once she were “up and about” all sorts of pleasant and interesting things might happen. Accordingly she put on her coat, took her towel, and proceeded to explore: and that was why Mrs. Maggs, coming upstairs with the tea a moment later, heard a suppressed shriek and saw Jane emerge from the bathroom with a white face and slam the door behind her.
“Oh dear!” said Mrs. Maggs, bursting into laughter. “I ought to have told you. Never mind. I’ll soon have him out of that.” She set the tea-tray down on the passage floor and turned to the bathroom.
“Is it safe?” asked Jane.
“Oh yes, he’s safe alright,” said Mrs. Maggs. “But he’s not that easy to shift. Not for you or me, Mrs. Studdock. Of course if it was Miss Ironwood or the Director it would be another matter.” With that she opened the bathroom door. Inside, sitting up on its hunkers beside the bath and occupying most of the room, was a great, snuffly, wheezy, beady-eyed, loose-skinned, gor-bellied brown bear, which, after a great many reproaches, appeals, exhortations, pushes, and blows from Mrs. Maggs, heaved up its enormous bulk and came very slowly out into the passage.
“Why don’t you go out and take some exercise that lovely afternoon, you great lazy thing?” said Mrs. Maggs. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, sitting there getting in everyone’s way. Don’t be frightened, Mrs. Studdock. He’s as tame as tame. He’ll let you stroke him. Go on, Mr. Bultitude. Go and say how do you do to the lady.”
Jane extended a hesitant and unconvincing hand to touch the animal’s back, but Mr. Bultitude was sulking, and without a glance at Jane continued his slow walk along the passage to a point about ten yards away where he quite suddenly sat down. The tea things rattled at Jane’s feet, and everyone on the floor below must have known that Mr. Bultitude had sat down.
“Is it really safe to have a creature like that loose about the house?” said Jane.
“Mrs. Studdock,” said Ivy Maggs with some solemnity, “if the Director wanted to have a tiger about the house it would be safe. That’s the way he has with animals. There isn’t a creature in the place that would go for another or for us once he’s had his little talk with them. Just the same as he does with us. You’ll see.”
“If you would put the tea in my room . . .” said Jane rather coldly, and went into the bathroom.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Maggs, standing in the open doorway, “you might have had your bath with Mr. Bultitude sitting there beside you—though he’s that big and that human I don’t somehow feel it would be Nice myself.”
Jane made to shut the door.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” said Mrs. Maggs without moving.
“Thank you,” said Jane.
“Sure you got everything you want?” said Mrs. Maggs.
“Quite sure,” said Jane.
“Well, I’ll be getting along, then,” said Mrs. Maggs, turning as if to go, but almost instantly turning back again to say, “You’ll find us in the kitchen, I expect, Mother Dimble and me and the rest.”
“Is Mrs. Dimble staying in the house?” asked Jane with a slight emphasis on the Mrs.
“Mother Dimble we all call her here,” said Mrs. Maggs. “And I’m sure she won’t mind