Knock Three Times!

“Follow me,” said Molly to the Pumpkins, and they obeyed her. It was strange that both of them obeyed the holder of the Black Leaf, but they did, following about a couple of yards behind her.

At the door of the cottage she found Miss Lydia lying on the ground, her face white and her eyes closed. Molly called her by name, but she did not answer. It was growing a little lighter now, as the moon was beginning to appear. Molly groped her way into the house and fetched some water, and knelt and bathed Miss Lydia’s forehead, calling her gently from time to time. It was a curious scene in the dim garden. Molly on her knees beside Miss Lydia, the Black Leaf tucked into the strap of her satchel, while on each side of the doorway, like sentinels, were two motionless Grey Pumpkins.

At length Miss Lydia stirred, and gradually recovered. Presently she opened her eyes, then gave a glad cry.

“Oh, I can see! I can see!” she said. “Oh, my dear!” And she cried a little, then began to laugh.

Molly told her quickly what had happened, and Miss Lydia was overjoyed at beholding the Black Leaf in Molly’s hand, and the Pumpkin waiting for commands, though she was grieved and puzzled that Molly’s brother had not yet been restored. She, herself, could not remember anything after she had come outside into the garden.

“I felt something bump against me, and I fell—and that’s all,” she said. “But I’m better now.”

“The first thing I must do,” said Molly, “is to set fire to the nearest beacon. They are marked on my map ... there is one being guarded on a hill close by.”

Half an hour later a flame sprang out of the night, on the top of a hill near the Giant’s Head. Spreading rapidly, the fire darted and leapt, rising higher and higher, until it became a great mass of blazing light.

People far and near stopped and gazed, crying excitedly to each other. “Look! Look! It’s the beacon—the first beacon! The Black Leaf is found!”

And as they watched, an answering beacon leapt forth from a neighbouring height. Hill after hill took up the glad news and passed it on, until the beacons, blazing throughout the kingdom, turned night into day.

CHAPTER XX
What Happened Outside Old Nancy’s Cottage

As they gazed down from the hill one of the guards told Molly the quickest way back to the East Gate of the City. If she followed the High Road, which was dimly visible far below, for about a mile she would come to a lane with a sign-post which said, ‘To the Orange Wood.’ Go to the bottom of this lane, over a little bridge across the river, and then along another lane which skirted the wood, and she would find herself in the village at the edge of the Goblin’s Heath. Back over the Heath was the shortest way then. But she would save several miles by going along the High Road at first.

Molly was very pleased to hear of this short cut, as she had not thought of looking up her map yet; and so, being very anxious to reach Old Nancy, Molly and Miss Lydia, who had determined to return with her, said good-bye to the guards and started off down the hillside, followed by the two Pumpkins.

As they went along Molly insisted on Miss Lydia, who looked very tired and exhausted, having two of the little brown square sweets that Old Nancy had given her; and she ate two herself. After a few minutes both she and Miss Lydia felt much refreshed, and fit for the journey in front of them. It was strange and delightful to Molly to know that there was nothing now to be afraid of; no more dodging and hiding and distrusting everybody.

When they neared the bottom of the hill, they caught sight of a figure emerging from a wood on the opposite side of the High Road. The person stood gazing up at the blazing beacon, spellbound; then all at once gave a whoop of joy and did a sort of step-dance in the road.

“Oh!” cried Molly, delighted. “It is—its Glan!”

And Glan it was, sure enough. He raced to meet them as soon as he saw the little party moving down.

“So it is you, little lady. You’ve done it, after all!” he shouted, as he came toward them. “Well done, well done!” and he seized Molly’s hand and shook it till he nearly shook it off. “But where’s your brother?” he asked, noting, with puzzled eyes, the two Pumpkins.

Molly told him what had happened to Jack, as they all moved onward to the High Road; and then she went on to explain where she found the Black Leaf, and how bravely Miss Lydia had acted.

“Madam, I’m proud to meet you,” said Glan, shaking hands with Miss Lydia. “If I had only known, I could have come to your aid. I was not so far away, finishing searching that wood, which is my boundary; you remember, I mentioned that part of my search-ground joined yours,” he turned to Molly, “but, of course, I knew nothing, till I saw that blaze in the sky,” he waved his hand toward the beacon. “You’re not worrying about your brother, are you, little lady?” he inquired, peering anxiously at Molly. “Don’t do that. Old Nancy will soon put things right, I feel sure.”

As they went along he told them some of his adventures, and the narrow escapes he had had from being caught by the spies; his ‘poor old Father’ had been nearly caught once also.

By the time he had finished they were well on the way back along the High Road. It seemed to Molly that the return journey developed into something like a triumphal procession. She would rather have gone back quietly without any fuss, but the people who ran out to meet her seemed so deeply thankful and so full of gratitude that she had not the heart to wish them not to cheer. There were many glances of awe directed at the two Pumpkins as they rolled steadily along side by side. Many of the people followed Molly, and Miss Lydia, and Glan, all the way back to the City—a straggling crowd that grew in numbers, collecting people from every house that was passed on the road. Presently the High Road was left behind and they took the short cut through the lane that went near the Orange Wood.

Here Molly saw Farmer and Mrs Rose hurrying to join them, and she had to explain something of what had happened as they walked on beside her.

They went through the village, and all the people turned out and cheered them in magnificent style, and Miss Marigold and Timothy hastened to join the crowd. It was a strange crowd, made up of all sorts of people, little and big, old and young, that flocked round the little girl and the two Grey Pumpkins that followed close behind her. The people’s awe of the Pumpkin was not easily overcome, and they kept a respectful distance in spite of the fact that the little girl held in her hand the Black Leaf.

Out over the Goblin’s Heath they all trooped. There were rustlings in the bushes here, and darting little figures that scampered across their path, which made Glan laugh hilariously. From the Goblin’s Heath they could see the beacons blazing on the hills for miles round.

When they entered the Second Green Lane they saw a figure bustling along in front of them, that Molly recognized at once. It was Mr Papingay on his way to the City. He seemed glad to see Molly again, and inquired immediately about his Black Leaf.

“I haven’t shown it yet, but I’m going to,” said Molly. “I’ve kept it carefully. Think what all these people will say when they see it—when we reach the City!”

At which he beamed and seemed content. Glan greeted him heartily, slapping him on the back and calling him ‘Uncle’; and they walked on together arm in arm, both of them talking unceasingly. Whether either of them listened to a word the other said is more than any one can say.

When they reached the High Road again they could hear all the bells in the City ringing, and people were watching anxiously from the top of the City walls. “Here they are! Here they are!” cried somebody, and then such a cheer went up that the sound of the bells was drowned altogether for a few moments.

To Molly the return journey had seemed very short, partly because of the short cuts they had taken, and partly because they had been able to keep straight ahead, as there was now no searching or dodging to delay them. But altogether they had travelled many miles and had been several hours on the journey, and the night was now far advanced. It was a perfect night, warm and still and clear, for the moon sailed overhead, flooding the land with its beautiful white light.

Many of the citizens had already gone out on to the hill by the West Gate, in readiness to see them pass down to Old Nancy’s. Those that were left joined in the procession at the rear. On passing Glan’s shop they found that his Father and Aunt Janet had already gone ahead, as they did not know which way the procession was coming, and they wanted ‘a front seat,’ Glan said.

Outside the West Gate the King was waiting, and he put his hands on Molly’s shoulders and thanked her very sincerely in the name of the country. Then he walked with her down the hill, and she told him about Jack.

The hill was packed with people, eager, murmuring, straining to catch a glimpse of Molly and the Pumpkins. As she drew near Old Nancy’s cottage, Molly saw that a wide space had been cleared around the cottage by the City guards; and there was Old Nancy standing waiting by her door, the firelight flickering in the room behind her, just as she had stood when Molly had last seen her.

She held out her hands to Molly when she caught sight of the little girl. The King gently urged Molly forward, and so she stepped out alone into the open space, and went toward Old Nancy, the two Pumpkins following obediently. Then a strange hush fell over the huge crowd gathered on the hill, and every one waited expectantly for what was about to happen.

“Here is the Black Leaf,” said Molly, handing the Leaf to Old Nancy. “And here is the Grey Pumpkin—and Jack.”

Old Nancy stooped and kissed Molly on the forehead. “My dear, how can I thank you,” she said. “But tell me how this happened,” and she motioned toward the two Pumpkins.

Molly explained. The people around could not hear what Molly said, but the whisper ran from one to the other that one of the Pumpkins was the little girl’s brother who was under a spell.

“Oh, will you bring Jack back again?” begged Molly anxiously.

Old Nancy looked gravely at each of the Pumpkins in turn. “Which is Jack,” she muttered to herself. Then she peered closer—stretching out her hand and turning each of the Pumpkins over and round about. The crowd gasped when she first touched the Pumpkins; it was difficult to get used to the idea that the Pumpkin was harmless now. “A pin was stuck in the Pumpkin pincushion,” she said to herself. “Let me see now, let me see now.... Ah.... Then this one is the Grey Pumpkin,” cried Old Nancy, triumphantly. “For there is a big pin stuck through the top of him now.”

A great cheer went up from the crowd, though those at the back did not know what they were cheering about.

Old Nancy touched the Grey Pumpkin three times with the Black Leaf. The Pumpkin trembled, rocked, then was still.

“The Grey Pumpkin is now completely in my power,” said Old Nancy. “But before we punish him let us make sure that he has remedied all the mischief he has done. Most of you who have suffered through him probably found that you were suddenly released from the spells which had held you—as soon as the Black Leaf was plucked. Is that correct?”

Murmurs of assent came from the crowd. Old Nancy asked any who were still suffering from spells put on them by the Pumpkin to step forward; and waited; but no one stepped forward. Molly looked across at Miss Lydia and smiled.

“Then there is only this one last case to restore.” Old Nancy pointed to one of the Grey Pumpkins. “This spell was different from the others, because it was worked upon a person from the Impossible World.” She hesitated, looking down at the Pumpkin which was supposed to contain Jack.

Molly saw some one signalling wildly to her from the crowd. It was Mr Papingay.

“Don’t forget,” he called to Molly in a loud aside. “Now’s the time!”

Molly remembered her promise, and opening her little satchel rummaged about inside, then took out Mr Papingay’s painted black leaf, and unfolded it.

“What is that?” asked Old Nancy.

“It is a black leaf which Mr Papingay painted, and which I promised to show everybody, and he wants me to do it now,” said Molly, holding it out.

A flicker of a smile showed at the corners of Old Nancy’s mouth, but she sternly repressed it. She took the painted leaf and gazed at it for a moment, then muttered something in an undertone and made a sign across the leaf with her left hand, holding the real Black Leaf and the painted leaf together in her right.

“Have you any of the matches left that I gave you?” she asked Molly.

“One,” Molly replied.

“That’s just right.” Old Nancy held the painted leaf high in the air. “I want you all to see this leaf which has been made and painted by Mr Papingay, and is an exact copy of the Black Leaf. It is a clever piece of work—and useful—as you shall see. Mr Papingay, have I your permission to do anything I like with this?”

“Certainly, ma’am—anything you like,” beamed Mr Papingay, swelling with pride at his own and the leaf’s importance.

Old Nancy handed the painted leaf back to Molly. “Place it under that Grey Pumpkin,” she said, pointing to Jack’s Pumpkin.

When Molly had done this, she was told to strike her one remaining match and set light to the painted leaf. This she did, and stood back as it caught alight, and little tongues of fire and grey puffs of smoke curled round the Pumpkin. Higher the smoke curled, and thicker it became, until the Pumpkin was entirely hidden from view in the centre of a great column of grey smoke. Every one watched—fascinated. Suddenly there was a terrific bang—then the smoke began to thin and drift apart. As it cleared away a figure could be seen standing in the centre of it.

It was Jack, dazed and rubbing his eyes.

“Jack! Jack!” cried Molly, rushing toward him. “Oh, I am so glad! Are you quite all right, Jack? Are you hurt?” She drew him out of the smoke.

“Hullo!” he said, gazing round. “Oh, I say, what’s happened?”

He was soon told.

“And do you mean to say that I’ve been stowed away in an old pumpkin, and been rolling about all over the country?—well, I must have looked an ass!” said Jack. “But I don’t remember anything—only feel as if I’ve been shut up somewhere and been to sleep.” He found his hand seized by one friend after another, and himself congratulated and questioned by the crowd that gathered round him.

“And so it was your leaf that did the trick, Mr Papingay, was it?” said Jack, grasping that gentleman’s hand and pumping it up and down. “Well, I’m blessed—you are a marvellous man!”

Which was just what Mr Papingay, his face wreathed in smiles, was thinking about himself.

CHAPTER XXI
The Grey Pumpkin’s Fate

“I could never have got the Black Leaf at the end if it hadn’t been for Miss Lydia,” she cried. “She was awfully brave. Although she had been made blind by the Pumpkin she walked out into the garden where the Leaf was growing and where the Pumpkin and his spies were waiting—she went out deliberately—to distract them—while I got the Leaf.”

“Three cheers for Miss Lydia!” cried someone in the crowd, and the cheers were given heartily, much to Miss Lydia’s confusion.

When Molly reached the end of her tale there was a perfect storm of cheering; she stepped down, flushed and excited, and stood talking to Old Nancy for a few minutes, until the cheering gradually died away and in its place a low muttering and groaning arose at the back of the crowd, followed by an outburst of booing and hissing. Molly turned quickly and saw that the crowd had parted, and through the space made a procession of people was wending its way. They were the Pumpkin’s spies; some very dejected, with hanging heads; others sullen and defiant. First came the old woman with the scarlet turban and the little darting eyes; next came the girl in green; then several others that Molly had never seen before—though judging by the remarks to be heard on all sides they were no strangers to the other searchers; among those in the rear Molly recognized the old watchmaker, and the man on horseback, who had given her the letter that was supposed to be from Old Nancy. There were about thirty of the spies altogether, and they gathered in a group before Old Nancy, who eyed them sadly.

“Was it you who scattered the grey powder on my window sill, and made me sleep through the sunset hour, and so enabled the Pumpkin to return?” she asked of the old woman who had led the band of spies.

The old woman nodded. “When some one in the Impossible World pierced the Pumpkin with a pin, the power for good which held me was suddenly dispersed, and all the evil magic that I knew rushed into my mind, and I made the grey powder and brought it to you ... heh, heh, heh,” a chuckle escaped. “And I’m glad I did. We’ve had a splendid time, ain’t we, ducky?” she leered at the girl in green, who nodded sullenly. “And if it hadn’t bin for a sort of muddle we made between us in our eagerness to keep that meddlin’ gel away”—the old woman gave Molly an ugly glance—“our Grey Pumpkin wouldn’t have bin caught and here to-day, that he wouldn’t.”

“Tell me about the muddle,” said Old Nancy, swaying the Black Leaf in her hand gently toward the old woman, who seemed compelled to answer.

“In the first place one of us led her”—she jerked her head in the direction of Miss Lydia—“to the wrong lake by mistake, when she was blind—right into that gel’s path instead of out of it, and when we found out what had bin done and went to fetch her away from Lake Desolate, we couldn’t find her. So, in case she came back to the Lake (which she did) another of us, thinking to cover up the mistake, wrote a letter making believe it was from you, Old Nancy; and the gel would have believed the letter and obeyed it, and everything would have bin all right for us, only something put it into her head not to believe the letter, and so she led the blind woman home and found the Leaf growing in her garden. But even then she would never have got the Leaf if it hadn’t bin for those matches of yours, Old Nancy; they do burn,” and the old woman held out her right hand across the back of which was a deep red scar. “What put it into your head not to believe that letter?” she asked suddenly of Molly.

“I had seen Miss Lydia’s photo at a friend’s house, and I recognized her as soon as I saw her beside Lake Desolate—and so I trusted her,” Molly answered.

“So that’s how it was,” nodded the old woman. “Of course we sent for the Pumpkin at once as soon as we found you were on your way to the house, but he did not arrive until you were inside, so we thought we’d catch you coming out.”

“Are none of you repentant?” asked Old Nancy. “None of you sorry for all the unhappiness you have caused?”

“Repentant! I should think not,” the old woman answered. “No, though we’re powerless now—we’re not repentant. We had the finest time of our lives; that’s so, comrades, ain’t it?”

The other spies assented without hesitation.

“Then,” said Old Nancy, “it would be best to banish you all, together with your leader, the Grey Pumpkin, out of our world into the Impossible World, where you can do no harm. Is it your wish that I do this?” Old Nancy cried to the crowd.

“Yes, yes. Banish them! Banish them!” the answer came from hundreds of voices; and for a few minutes there was a deafening roar from the people; but as Old Nancy lifted her hand the noise died away and there was silence again.

Old Nancy moved among the spies, touching each with the Black Leaf and muttering some words to herself; they shivered as the Leaf touched them.

“You shall retain your human forms in the Impossible World,” said Old Nancy to the spies. “But all the evil magic you have learned you shall forget. You will forget, too, your life in this world; sometimes you will have vague recollections, but you will never be able to find your way back here again, and you will not be able to do any harm to others in the Impossible World. I am allowing you to retain your human forms, because, bad as you have been, you have not been as bad as the Grey Pumpkin. According to your wicked acts in this land, so will your unhappiness be in the Impossible World. You will be very unhappy,” she ended, pointing to the old woman.

Then muttering some strange words Old Nancy waved the Leaf again, and the spies moved slowly away toward the great tree on the opposite side of the High Road.

“Knock three times,” commanded Old Nancy.

And the old woman, with a last defiant toss of the head, knocked three times. The door in the tree swung open, and one after the other the spies passed through, and the door closed after them with a thud.

All this time the Grey Pumpkin had remained motionless in front of the cottage door, and now Old Nancy approached him and, touching him once more with the Black Leaf, said:

“Go! Back to the Impossible World! Not as a pincushion this time, though you shall still retain your hated shape and shall not resume your human form again. You shall become a footstool for people to kick about and rest their feet on—you shall become a hassock! Go! And never, never return.”

Slowly the Grey Pumpkin swayed from side to side, then rolled away across the road to the tree. It knocked three times against the tree, the door opened, and the Grey Pumpkin passed out into the Impossible World.

The silence which followed the closing of the door in the tree was broken by a terrible guffaw of laughter from Glan’s Father. At once a wild outburst of cheers and laughter and shouting came from the crowd on the hill; cheers for Old Nancy; cheers for the King; cheers for Molly and Jack; cheers for the other searchers; there seemed no end to the cheering, for the people were mad with delight. But through it all Glan’s Father laughed on, until the tears rolled down his cheeks and Aunt Janet grew flustered and alarmed. But Glan only stood in front of his Father, his arms akimbo, and laughed too.

“That’s right, Father!” he cried. “Go on! Go on! Let him be, Aunt Janet, he’s not had a laugh for years and years.”

Meanwhile, Jack and Molly were making preparations for returning home through the tree. Molly handed the satchels back to Old Nancy, and although both the children were sorry to leave their friends, they felt that now their work was finished they would like to return home; it was a long time since they had seen Mother and Father. And so they began to say good-bye to the little group of friends around them, including Mrs Jennet, who had arrived with Mr Jennet—so exactly like herself—in time to witness the exit of the Pumpkin.

The King and Old Nancy had been talking apart from the crowd, and now they turned to Jack and Molly.

“Will you accept this?” said the King to Molly, handing her a little box, “as a small token of our thanks and appreciation of the service you have done this country.... It seems a very insignificant thing to offer you, but it has an unusual gift attached to it. Whenever you wear it you will be happy and will give happiness to those around you.... Do not open the box now, but place it on your table, when you get home, where the pincushion stood; and when the sunshine falls across it—open it; if you open it before, the special gift I mentioned will not be with it.”

Molly took the little box and thanked the King sincerely, with sparkling eyes.

To Jack the King said, “I have just heard that you go in for painting, so I am having a special set of painting-brushes made for you, which will help you to do good work—they are rather special brushes;” he and Old Nancy exchanged mysterious smiles. “I want you to accept them as a little memento of your visit, but as they are not quite ready, I shall send them to you to-morrow.”

“Thanks awfully, your Majesty, but I don’t feel as if I’ve earned them properly, you know,” said Jack. But the King shook him warmly by the hand and said he had done a great deal to help.

And so they bade the King good-bye.

“You will find that your Mother hasn’t been anxious about you—I saw to that,” said Old Nancy, as they said good-bye to her.

And Glan said, “Come and see us again some day, little lady, you and your brother. Do, won’t you? Knock three times on the tree when the moon is full, remember.”

“Oh, we’d love to come again some day, wouldn’t we, Jack?” said Molly.

“Rather,” said Jack.

So, for the third time that night the door in the tree opened in response to the three knocks. And this time a little girl and boy passed through to the Impossible World again.

CHAPTER XXII
The Impossible World Again

Molly remembered to place her little box on the dressing-table before she went to sleep, and when she woke she saw that the sun was streaming right across it. So she sprang up eagerly and opened the box. Inside was the most exquisite silver bangle that she had ever seen. Molly was delighted, and she found afterward that it had indeed some special charm about it, for she was always happy when wearing it and those around her seemed the same.

At the breakfast-table Mother and Father seemed to the children to glance at them rather curiously.

“Mother,” began Molly, “do you know who gave me this?” and she showed her the silver bracelet.

“Yes,” said Mother to Molly’s surprise. “I know all about it.”

“Why, how did you?” asked Jack.

But “Ah!” was all Mother would say, and she and Father exchanged amused glances.

It was a little puzzling. And even when there arrived by post for Jack a long narrow box containing three paint-brushes, Mother and Father never asked whom they were from, although there was no name inside.

“I suppose there’s no need for us to tell you all about our adventure, if you know already?” remarked Jack. “Do you know everything?”

“Everything,” replied Mother, smiling.

Of course the grey pumpkin pincushion had entirely vanished from Molly’s dressing-table, and she never set eyes on it again, though she wrote and thanked Aunt Phœbe for her ‘useful present.’

Jack and Molly often wonder where the Grey Pumpkin and his spies are. They have never seen any of them yet, though Molly has seen a ticket-collector who reminds her somewhat of the old watchmaker. Both children keep a watchful eye on all shops that sell hassocks, and always glance eagerly round the room when they are invited out to tea anywhere, but so far they have not come across the Grey Pumpkin.