and pearl figures of the clock could still be seen on the sand of the cave.
Edred and Elfrida, still clinging together, turned appealing eyes to the Mouldiwarp. They expected it to be very angry indeed, instead of which it seemed to be smiling. (Did you ever see a white mole smile? No? But then, perhaps you have never seen a white mole, and you cannot see a smile without seeing the smiler, except of course in the case of Cheshire cats.)
‘He’s a bold boy, a brave boy,’ said the witch.
‘Ah!’ said the Mouldiwarp, ‘he be summat like an Arden, he be.’
Edred detached himself from Elfrida and stiffened with a resolve to show the Mouldiwarp that he too was not so unlike an Arden as it had too hastily supposed.
‘Can’t we get home?’ Elfrida asked timidly. ‘Can’t you make us another white clock, or something?’
‘Waste not, want not,’ said the mole. ‘Always wear out your old clocks afore you buys new ’uns. Soon’s he gets off the hand the clock’ll stop; then you can get on it and go safe home.’
‘But suppose the King finds us?’ said Elfrida.
‘He shan’t,’ said Betty Lovell. ‘You open the chalky door, Mouldy, my love, and I’ll keep the King quiet till the young people’s gone home.’
‘They’ll duck you for a witch,’ said the Mouldiwarp, and it did not seem to mind the familiar way in which Betty spoke to it.
‘Well, it’s a warm day,’ said Betty; ‘by the time they get me to the pond you’ll be safe away. And the water’ll be nice and cool.’
‘Oh, no,’ said Edred and Elfrida together. ‘You’ll be drowned.’ And Edred added, ‘I couldn’t allow that.’
‘Bless your silly little hearts,’ said the Mouldiwarp, ‘she won’t drown. She’ll just get home by the back door, that’s all. There’s a door at the bottom of every pond, if you can only find it.’
So Betty Lovell went out through the chalk to meet the anger of the King, with two kisses on her cheeks.
And suddenly there was the pearl and ivory clock again, all complete, minute hand and hour hand and second hand.
Edred and Elfrida sat down on the minute hand, and before the Mouldiwarp could open its long, narrow mouth to say a word Edred called out in a firm voice, ‘Take us to where Daddy is;’ for he had learned from Richard that white clocks can be ordered about.
And the minute hand of pearl and ivory began to move, faster and faster and faster, till if there had been anyone to look at it, it would have been invisible.
But there wasn’t anyone to look at it, for the Mouldiwarp had leapt on to the hour hand at the last moment, and was hanging on there by all its claws.
Chapter XIV. The Finding of the Treasure
‘To Richard Arden!’ shouted the Mouldiwarp of Arden as it leapt on the hour hand of the pearl and ivory clock. And then the hands went round far too fast for speed to be possible. When the clock stopped, which it did quite suddenly, Edred caught his breath and shouted, ‘To my daddy!’ at the top of his voice. And the hands began to move again so quickly that neither of the children had time to see where they had stopped. They just saw that they were in a room, and that the Mouldiwarp, who seemed suddenly to have grown to the size of an enormous Polar bear, leaned over the edge of the clock and caught at something with a paw a foot long. And then someone called out something that they couldn’t hear, and almost at once the clock stopped, and they saw something climb off the clock. And the clock was in the cave again. And there was Cousin Richard in quite different clothes from those he had worn at King Henry the Eighth’s maying. They were the kind of clothes Edred had worn in Boney’s time, and the cave was just as it had been then, with kegs and bales, and the stream running through it.
‘You must come with us,’ said the Mouldiwarp, slowly resuming its ordinary size. ‘Don’t you see? If these children let their father see them, they’ll have to explain the whole magic, and when once magic’s explained all the magic’s gone, like the scent out of scent when you leave the cork out of the bottle. But you can see him and help – if he wants help – without having to explain anything.’
‘All right,’ said Richard, and muttered something about ‘the Head of the House.’ ‘Only,’ he added, ‘I dropped my magic here.’ He stooped to the sand and picked up a little stick with silver bells hung round it, like the one that Folly carries at a carnival. ‘It’s got the Arden arms and crest on it,’ he said, pointing, and by the light of the pearl and ivory clock the children could see the shield and the chequers and the Mouldiwarp above. ‘Now I’m ready. Cousins, I take back everything I said. You see my father’s dead … and if I’d only had half your chance… That was what I thought. See? So give us your hand.’
The hands were given.
‘But oh,’ said Elfrida, ‘this is different from all the rest; that was a game, and this is – this is—’
‘This is real, my sock-lamb,’ said the Mouldiwarp with unusual kindness. ‘Now your Cousin Richard will help you, and when you get your father back, as I make no doubts but what you will, then your Cousin Dick he’ll go back to his own time and generation, and be seen no more, and your father won’t never guess that you was there so close to him as you will be.’
‘I don’t believe we shall,’ said Elfrida, nodding stubbornly, and for the first time in this story she did not believe.
‘Oh, well,’ said the Mouldiwarp bitterly, ‘of course if you don’t believe you’ll find him, you’ll not find him. That’s plain as a currant loaf.’
‘But I believe we shall find him,’ said Edred, ‘and Elfrida’s only a girl. It might be only a dream, of course,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘Don’t you think I don’t know that. But if it’s a dream, I’m going to stay in it. I’m not going back to Arden without my father.’
‘Do you understand,’ said the Mouldiwarp, ‘that if I take you into any other time or place in your own century, it’s the full stop? There isn’t any more.’
‘It means there’s no chance of our getting into the past again, to look for treasure or anything?’
‘Oh, chance!’ said the Mouldiwarp. ‘I mean no magic clock’ll not never be made for you no more, that’s what I mean. And if you find your father you’ll not be Lord Arden any more, either!’
I hope it will not shock you very much when I tell you at that thought a distinct pang shot through Edred’s breast. He really felt it, in his flesh-and-blood breast, like a sharp knife. It was dreadful of him to think of such a thing, when there was a chance of his getting his daddy in exchange for just a title. It was dreadful; but I am a truthful writer, and I must own the truth. In one moment he felt the most dreadful things – that it was all nonsense, and perhaps daddy wasn’t there, and it was no good looking for him any way, and he wanted to go on
