Part 13 (1/2)

”I have made a most terrible mistake,” she said, in a low voice. ”I have spoilt everything. I see that you are kind; can you help us?”

”Should have come me first,” said the creature, quite gently. ”Tried attract attention. Never neglect anyone merely because odd and ugly.

May have good heart. Sad mess now; but think see daylight. Any influence that boy?”

”Oh, yes,” said Fiona eagerly.

”Right,” said the creature. ”Make boy wish. Now follow my argument.”

And he turned to the King.

”Please Majesty submit good point. Majesty just ruled nothing counts here but intention. Younger prisoner no intention hurt sh.o.r.e lark; therefore on Majesty's ruling same as if did not hurt it. Therefore never was guilty. Human prisoner adjudged not guilty is just same as if came here own free will; so held Majesty's father”; and by some extraordinary trick he got the top book open and flopped down among the leaves, from which position he read out bits of an ancient judgment. ”Consequently younger prisoner both ent.i.tled and bound wish.”

The King consulted Whitecap.

”It seems a sound chain of reasoning,” he said. Then he turned to the Public Prosecutor. ”Have you anything to urge against it?”

”Only that, if he wishes wrong, we can't detain him, because of the young lady's wish,” said that official.

”Daniel come judgment,” cried the Chancellor triumphantly. ”Heads win, tails can't lose. Younger prisoner wish.”

He turned to Fiona and whispered to her, ”Mind he wishes right.”

Fiona started to go over to the Urchin; instantly the guard crossed their spears before her.

”No interference allowed with anyone who is going to wish,” said the officer.

Then she tried to call to him, and found that she could not speak. It was like a nightmare. She looked helplessly at the Chancellor; he nodded, and spelt on his fingers the word ”think.”

Then Fiona understood what he had meant by asking her if she had any influence over the Urchin. She knew that she had a good deal; and bits of conversations with her father came back into her mind. She had made one bad blunder, and she had to correct it as best she could; and without more ado she concentrated her whole mind on taking possession of the mind of the Urchin. Could it be done at all? And if so could it be done in time?

The King stretched out his sceptre, and there was silence.

”The younger prisoner is going to wish,” said the King. ”Officer!”

And immediately there appeared in the middle of the ring six great boxes, old sea chests made of Spanish chestnut, battered and stained and clamped with bands of iron; and on each was the picture, half obliterated by time and salt water, of the Madonna of the Holy Cross.

The officer flung back the lids, and showed each chest full to the brim of glittering golden doubloons.

”That is the treasure from the Venetian galleon which you were seeking,” said the King. ”We removed it long ago into our safe custody, lest it should tempt men; but it would seem that it tempts them none the less. Now wish.”

The Urchin, his eyes bulging out of his head, stared at the s.h.i.+ning gold. He murmured ”gun,” but fortunately so low that the King did not hear him.

Fiona kept her eyes fixed hard on the boy, and bent every effort of mind and will to the one thought, that he must wish as she wished. If only he would turn round. She had already lost sight of the fairies; she now lost sight of the King; she was conscious only of the abject wretched creature that was Jeconiah, and of the back of the Urchin's head. He was still staring at the gold, but he had not yet spoken; that was to the good, and--no, it was not fancy--his ears were turning pink, as they always did when he was in a difficulty. Then he began to shuffle his feet uneasily. Fiona felt that every atom of life and force in her was being concentrated on that one act of will; she did not think she could go through with it many seconds longer, or she would collapse. And then the Urchin turned his head toward her; his face was scarlet, and his eyes were wavering before the fixed gaze of her own; he _must_ do as she wished. She flung everything into one supreme effort--the last reserves which no one thinks they possess till utter necessity teaches them the contrary; and then the Urchin spoke, in a strange voice and all in one breath:

”I want my uncle to go free.”

Fiona's will let go with a snap; she felt so dizzy that she had to lean against one of the great toadstools or she would have fallen.

Round the a.s.semblage ran a sound like the wind through the tree tops, the noise of thousands drawing in breath at once; and the Chancellor started a war dance on his stack of books, and nearly fell off on his head. The King rose from his throne, but he took no notice of the Urchin; he turned straight to Fiona and bowed to her.

”My compliments, young lady,” he said; ”the prettiest piece of thought-transference it has ever been our privilege to see. Where did you learn to do it?”

”I never learnt,” stammered Fiona. ”I made a great mistake, as your Majesty saw, and something had to be done, and your friend suggested this way.”