nonsense!” said Philip, “I never will.”
“All right, my Pipkin,” said Helen cheerfully; “I only told you just to show that you’re expected to stay here. ‘Philip and Helen have the island to dwell in.’ And now, what about bed?”
They spent a whole week on the island. It was exactly all that they could wish an island to be; because, of course, they had made it themselves, and of course they knew exactly what they wanted. I can’t describe that week. I only know that Philip will never forget it. Just think of all the things you could do on a magic island if you were there with your dearest dear, and you’ll know how Philip spent his time.
He enjoyed every minute of every hour of every day, and, best thing of all, that week made him understand, as nothing else could have done, that Helen still belonged to him, and that her marriage to Mr. Graham had not made her any the less Philip’s very own Helen.
And then came a day when Philip, swinging in a magnolia tree, looked out to sea and cried out, “A sail! a sail! Oh, Helen, here’s the ark! Now it’s all over. Let’s have Lucy to stay with us, and send the other people away,” he added, sliding down the tree-trunk with his face very serious.
“But we can’t, dear,” Helen reminded him. “The island’s ours, you know; and as long as it’s ours no one else can land on it. We made it like that, you know.”
“Then they can’t land?”
“No,” said Helen.
“Can’t we change the rule and let them land?”
“No,” said Helen.
“Oh, it is a pity,” Philip said; “because the island is the place for islanders, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Helen, “and there’s no fear of the sea here; you remember we made it like that when we made the island?”
“Yes,” said Philip. “Oh, Helen, I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t,” said Helen.
“Ah, but I do want to, too.”
“Then do,” said she.
“But don’t you see, when you want to and don’t want to at the same time, what are you to do? There are so many things to think of.”
“When it’s like that, there’s one thing you mustn’t think of,” she said.
“What?” Philip asked.
“Yourself,” she said softly.
There was a silence, and then Philip suddenly hugged his sister and she hugged him.
“I’ll give it to them,” he said; “it’s no use. I know I ought to. I shall only be uncomfortable if I don’t.”
Helen laughed. “My boy of boys!” she said. And then she looked sad. “Boy of my heart,” she said, “you know it’s not only giving up our island. If we give it away I must go. It’s the only place that there’s a door into out of my dreams.”
“I 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
