"It's funny Chinky hasn't kept it tidier than this," said Mollie, pulling the rugs straight, and putting a chair upright.
Then she suddenly gave a cry. "Peterl where's the Wishing-Chair? It isn't here!"
Peter looked round, startled. "Well ! Fancy us not noticing that as soon as we came in! Where is it?"
"I suppose Chinky's gone off in it," said Mollie. "He might have left a note! I suppose he's at his mother's."
"He'll soon be back then," said Peter, going to the door and looking out. "He knew this was the
day we were coming home."
But Chinky didn't come, and by the time tea- time came the children felt rather worried. Surely Chinky would have been back to tea on the day they came home? He always liked to spend every minute with them that he could, especially now that they had to go to boarding-school and leave him for months at a time. They had brought their tea down to the playroom. They were sitting hav¬ing it, rather solemnly, when a small mischievous face looked round the door. It was Winks.
"Hallo!" he said, but he didn't smile. He looked very grave and walked in quietly.
"Where's Chinky?" asked Mollie at once.
"And where's the Wishing-Chair?" said Peter.
"An awful thing happened two nights ago," said Winks in dismay. "For goodness' sake tell us," said Mollie.
"Well," said Winks, "I was staying here with Chinky that night. I was to sleep on that rug on the floor with a cushion, and Chinky was to sleep on the sofa as usual. When we were tired we got ready for bed."
"Go on," said Peter, impatiently. "I want to know what's happened to Chinky."
"I went to sleep," said Winks, "and I suppise Chinky did, too. I suddenly woke up to hear a ter¬rible noise going on—Chinky shouting and yell¬ing, and furniture being upset and goodness knows what. I put on the light, and what do you think had happened? Why, you know Chinky always ties a rope from the chair to his foot, don't you— well, the chair grew its wings that night and we didn't wake—so it tried to fly out of the door all by itself, and—"
"The rope pulled on Chinky's foot and woke him!" said Peter.
"Yes, the chair pulled him right off the sofa," said Winks. "He must have landed with an awful bump on the floor, and I suppose he thought some¬one had pulled him off and there was an enemy attacking him—so he was fighting the furniture and the rugs and shouting and yelling—and all the time the chair was tugging at his foot, trying to fly off!"
"Gracious!" said Mollie. "What happened in the end?"
"Well, when I put the light on I saw the chair struggling to get out of the door, and it was drag¬ging Chinky along," said Winks. "I ran to stop the chair, but it rose into the air, dragged poor Chinky out into the garden, and flew up into the sky!"
"What about Chinky?" asked Mollie in a trem¬bling voice.
"Oh, Mollie—poor, poor Chinky had to go, too, hanging upside down by one foot," said Winks blinking away tears. "I couldn't do anything about it, though I did try to catch hold of Chinky. But he was too high up by that time."
"This is awfiil," said Mollie. "Whatever are we to do? Has the chair gone to his mother's do you think?"
"No. I thought of that," said Winks. "I went next day to see, but Chinky's mother said she hadn't seen either Chinky or the chair. She's very worried."
"But why didn't the chair go to Chinky's mother?" wondered Peter. "Chinky would have been sure to yell out to it to go there."
"Well, I think the chair was frightened," said Winks. "It didn't know it had got Chinky by the foot, you see. It couldn't understand all the yell¬ing and struggling. It just shot off into the night, terrified."
"This is awfully bad news," said Mollie. "Both Chinky and the chair gone. And we don't know where. How can we find out?"
"I don't know," said Winks, who looked very tried. "I've been all over the place, asking and asking."
"Poor Winks," said Mollie. "You do look very tired. I suppose you've been worried to death about Chinky."
"Yes, I have," said Winks. "You see, I've been teasing him rather a lot -and I hid his wand and made him cross—and I broke a cup—and now I feel awfully sorry I was such a nuisance to him."
"You're really not very good at times, Winks," said Peter, sternly. "You ought to be careful, in case you get sent back to Mister Grim."
"Yes, 1 know," said Winks.
"The awful part is, even when we do find out, if ever we do, we haven't got the Wishing-Chair to fly off in to rescue him," said Peter, gloomily.
"Shall we go and ask Mr. Spells if he can help us?" said Mollie, suddenly. "He's awfully clever. He might think of some way of finding out where Chinky's gone.'
"Yes—that's a very good idea'" said Peter. "You've heard about Mr. Spells, haven't you, Winks? Shall we go straight away now? I think I remember the way. We have to go to the Village of Pin first, and then take the bus, and then a boat."
"Yes," said Winks, cheering up. "I feel much better since I've talked to you."
They set off Down the garden they went, and through the gap in the hedge. Into the field, and across to find the dark patch of grass. It was still there. They all sat down in it and Mollie felt about for the little knob that set the magic going.
She found it and pressed it. Down shot the ring of grass, much too fast, and they all tumbled off in a heap below. "Gracious!" said Winks. "You might have warned me what was going to happen. I nearly died of fright when the earth fell away beneath me!"
"Come on," said Peter. "We have to go down this passage now—past all these doors. We really must find Mr. Spells as soon as possible."
They went on down the twisting passage, which was still lighted clearly by some light nobody could see. Winks wanted to stop and read the names on each door.
"'Dame Handy-Pandy'," he said. "Whoever is she? And this name says" Mr. Piggle-Pie.' Oh, let's knock and see what he's like."
"Winks! Come along at once," said Mollie. "We're in a hurry!"
"Wait!" cried Winks. "Look at this door! Look at the name. Hey, Mollie, Peter—it says 'MRS. SPELLS!' Do you think she's anything to do with Mr. Spells? Let's find out."
And he banged hard at the little green door. ··Ratta—Tatta—Tat!" Oh, Winks—now what have you done?
XVIII
MR. SPELLS' MOTHER
Ratta—Tatta—Tat!
The echo of Winks' knocking at Mrs. Spells' door filled the underground passage and made the children jump. They turned round angrily.
"Winks! you shouldn't do that!"
"But I tell you, it says 'MRS. Spells' on this name-plate," began Winks. Just then the door opened and a black cat stood politely there, with a little apron round its tubby waist.
"If you've brought the papers, please don't knock so loudly again," said the cat, politely but crossly. "We were in the middle of a spell, and you made my mistress upset half of it. Now we've made a spell to make things small instead of big. It's most annoying." He slammed the door, almost hitting Winks' nose. The children came running up. Peter calling out breathlessly:
"I say! I do believe that was old Cinders, Mr. Spells' cat! He had such enormous green eyes—like green traffic lights shining out!"
"Was it really?" said Mollie. "Well, let's ask him if he is. Why, Mr. Spells might be here him¬self! It would save us quite a long journey."
"Dare we knock again?" said Peter. "That cat was really very cross."
"I'm not afraid of a cross cat!" said Winks boldly, and he lifted the knocker and knocked again. He also found a bell and rang that, too.
"RATTA-TATTA-TAT! JINGLE-JANGLE- JING!"
Mr. Piggle-Pie's door flew open and a cross voice called, "Who's makeing that row? Just wait till I get dressed and I'll come and chase you!"
"That must have been Mr. Piggle-Pie," said Winks. "Bother! He's shut his door again. Now I shan't know what he's like!"
Then Mrs. Spell's door flew open, and the cat appeared again. But this time it behaved much more like a real cat. It spat at Winks and scratched him on the han
d.
It was just about to shut the door again when Peter called out, "I say, aren't you Cinders?"
The cat stared at him. "Yes, I'm Cinders. Oh, I remember you. You're the boy who came with a girl to rescue Chinky—and I helped my master do a spell to wake him up. What are you doing here, hammering at our door?"
"Well, we were really on our way to see Mr.
Spells," said Peter. "But Winks here noticed the name 'Mrs. Spells' on the door, and he knocked. He thought she might be some relation to Mr. Spells."
"She is. She's his mother," said Cinders. "1 came here to help the old lady with a new spell— the one you spoilt by making her jump. My mas¬ter is coming to call for me in a few minutes."
"Oh, is he?" cried Peter joyfully. "Then do you think we might stay and see him—we do so badly want his help."
"Well, come in, then," said the cat. "I don't know about this brownie though—Winks, do you call him? Banging and ringing like that. You wait till Mr. Piggle-Pie is dressed and comes after him. He'll get such a spanking."
"I don't want to stay out in the passage," said Winks, nervously. "I'll be very good and quiet and helpful if you'll let me come in."
"Who is it standing gossiping at the door?" sud¬denly called an annoyed voice. "Tell them either to go or to come in."
"You'd better come in and wait for Mr. Spells," said Cinders. So they all trooped in and Cinders shut the door. Winks was quite glad to be out of the passage, away from a possibly furious Mr. Piggle-Pie.
The cat led them into a remarkably big room, with three windows. The children were so aston¬ished to see what the windows looked out on that they quite forgot their manners for the moment, and didn't greet the bent old lady who sat in a chair in the middle of the room.
One window looked out on the sea! Yes, the sea, as blue as could be! Another looked out on a sunny hillside. The third looked out on an ordi¬nary backyard, where washing was blowing in the wind. Most extraordinary.
"Well!" said rather a peevish voice, "have the children of to-day no manners at all? Can't you even say how do you do to an old lady?"
"Oh, dear," said Mollie, ashamed of herself. "Please, Mrs. Spells, I'm so sorry—do forgive us —but it did seem so extraordinary seeing three win¬dows like this—in an underground room—and one looking out on the sea, too. Why, I thought the sea was miles and miles away!"
"Things aren't always what they seem," said Mrs. Spells. "What is miles away for you, may be quite near for me. Now, what was all this noise about at my front door? When I was younger I would have turned you all into pattering mice and given you to Cinders, for making a noise of that sort in a respectable place like this!"
"Madam," said the cat, seeing that the old lady was working herself up into a temper, "Madam, these children know Mr. Spells, your son."
The old lady beamed at once. "Oh, do you know my son? Why didn't you tell me that at once? Cinders, some strawberryade, please, with straw¬berry ice, and some strawberry biscuits."
This sounded exciting—and when it came, beautifully arranged on a large silver tray by Cin¬ders, it was just as exciting as it sounded!
It was a pink drink made of strawberry juice. In it were pieces of ice shaped like strawberries, and the biscuit had tiny sugar strawberries in the middle!
"This is lovely," said Peter. "Thank you very much."
There came the sound of a key in the door. "Ah—my son, Mr. Spells!" said Mrs. Spells. "Here he is!"
And there he was again, just the same as be¬fore, tall and commanding, but this time dressed in a long green cloak that shimmered like water. He looked very surprised indeed to see the visi¬tors.
"Why—I've seen you before!" he said to the children. "How are you? Quite well, I hope. And let me see—have I seen this brownie before? Yes—1 have. Aren't you the bad fellow who turned all his grandmother's pigs blue? Isn't your name Winks?"
"Yes, Mr. Spells, Sir," said Winks.
"I hope you got spanked for that," said Mr. Spells. "I had a terrible job turning the pigs back to their right colour again. I believe they've still got blue tails."
Winks wished the floor would open and swal¬low him up, but it didn't. Mr. Spells turned to Peter.
"Well, have you come visiting my dear old
mother?" he said.
Peter explained how it was they were in his mother's room. Then he told the enchanter about poor Chinky and the chair.
"Good gracious!" said Mr. Spells. "We must certainly find out where that chair has gone. If it falls into the hands of some rogue he can use it for all kinds of wrong purposes. And Chinky, too— what a silly thing to do, to tie his foot to the chair! Why didn't he tie the chair to the door-handle, or something like that?"
"We didn't think of that," said Peter. "Can you help us to find out where the chair is, and Chinky, too, Mr. Spells?"
"Of course," said Mr. Spells. "Now, let me think for a moment. This happened at night, you say— and the chair, as usual, flew up into the sky?"
"Yes," said everyone.
"Well, then—who was about that night in the sky, who might possibly have seen the chair and Chinky?" said Mr. Spells thoughtfully.
"Hoot, the owl," said the old lady at once.
"Quite right Mother," said Mr. Spells.
"Splendid idea. We'll call Hoot, the owl, and see if he knows anything about this. He's a very wise and observant bird, you know," he said, turn¬ing to the children. "Never misses anything that goes on at night."
"Shall we go and ask him if he knows anything, then?" said Molllie. "Where does he live?"
"Oh, we'll get him here," said Mr. Spells.
"That's the easiest way. I'll go and call him."
He went to the windows that looked out on the sunny hillside. He clapped his hands three times and muttered a word so magic that Winks trembled in his shoes. And a very curious thing happened. The sunny hillside went dark—as dark as night— and behind the trees shone a little moon! It was all very peculiar, especially as the sun still shone out in the backyard and on the sea that could be seen from the other windows!
"I must make it dark, or the owl won't come," explained Mr. Spells. "Now I'll call him."
He put his hand up to his mouth, placed his thumbs carefully together, and blew gently—and to the children's delight and surprise, the hoot of an owl came from his closed hands. "Ooo-ooo- oooo-oooh! Ooo-ooo-ooh!"
An answering hoot came from outside the win¬dow. A dark shadow passed across the room. Then a big owl flew silently down and perched on Mr. Spells' shoulder. He caressed the big-eyed crea¬ture, whilst Cinders looked on rather jealously.
"Hoot," said Mr. Spells. "Listen carefully. Two nights ago a Wishing-Chair flew off into the sky, and hanging to it by a rope tied to his foot was a pixie called Chinky. Did you see anything of this?"
"Ooooooo-ooo-ooo! Oooooo-oo! Ooooh! Ooooo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooooooooh!" an¬swered the owl, hooting softly into Mr. Spells' ear.
"Thank you, Hoot," said Mr. Spells, looking grave. "You may go."
The owl flew off silently. Mr. Spells waited a moment and then muttered another magic word. The moonlit hillside grew lighter and lighter—and, hey presto, it was the sun behind the trees now and not the moon—daylight was everywhere!
"What did the owl tell you?" asked Peter.
"Oh—I forgot you couldn't understand," said Mr. Spells. "Well, he saw the chair—and Chinky, too, dangling by his foot. He followed them out of curiosity—and he says they flew near the Wander¬ing Castle, where Giant Twisty lives, and the giant must have seen them and captured them. He saw no more of them after that."
This was very bad news indeed. "Oh, dear— whatever are we going to do, then?" said Peter at last. "Poor little Chinky!"
"1 must help you," said Mr. Spells. "I can't let Twisty own that chair. Sit down. We must think of a plan!"
XIX
AWAY ON ANOTHER ADVENTURE
"We can't do anything this evening," said Mr. Spells. "That's quite certain. Anyway, the fir
st thing to do is to find out where the Wandering Castle is."
"Don't you know?" said Mollie, in surprise, as
she thought Mr. Spells knew everthing.
"I know where it was last year, and the year before, and even last month," said Mr. Spells, "but 1 don't know where it is now. It may have wan¬dered anywhere."
"Oh—does it move about?" asked Peter in amazement.
"Good gracious, yes! It's always wandering," said the enchanter. "One day it may be here, the next it's somewhere else. Giant Twisty finds that very useful because he's always getting into trouble because of his bad ways, and it's very convenient to have a castle that can slip away in the night."
"It's going to be very difficult to find, isn't it?" said Mollie. "I mean, even if we find out where it is now, it may not be there when we get there."
"True. But there's a chance it may rest in the same place for some weeks," said Mr. Spells. "Winks, what are you doing?"
Winks jumped. "Just—just stirring this stuff in the pot," he said.
"Look at you hands!" thundered Mr. Spells. "You've been dipping them in—and now see what you've done! Meddlesome little brownie!"
Winks looked at his hands. Oh, dear, they were bright blue! He stared at them in horror.
"Now you know what your grandmother's pigs must have felt like when you turned them blue," said the enchanter. "Well, keep your blue hands. Every time you look at them you can say to your¬self, 'I must not meddle. I must not meddle.'"
Winks put his hands into his pockets, looking very doleful.
"Well, children," said Mr. Spells, "I think you'd better leave things to me to-night. I'll do my best to find out where the Wandering Castle happens to be at the moment and we will make a good plan to get back the chair and Chinky. Can you come along early to-morrow morning?"
"Yes. We'll ask Mother to let us go out for the day," said Peter. "Come on, Mollie. Thank you, Mr. Spells, for your help. Good-bye, Mrs. Spells. Good-bye, Cinders."
"You can go out of this door if you like," siad the enchanter, and the children suddenly saw a small silver door gleaming in the wall near the window that looked out on the hillside. They were sure it hadn't been there before. Cinders opened it for them.