After that there was really nothing to do but trail back to their separate rooms. Roger knocked some of the Magic City over as he trailed through his, but he didn't care. It had been a mistake. If there were any more adventures and if he had anything to say about them, they were going to be yeomanly, like the first one. Magic and modernness just didn't mix.
Eliza, on the way to her room, was thinking about the battle and how thrilling it had been. She wondered if Ivanhoe had lived to tell the tale, and if Rebecca had ever got out of the Dolorous Tower, and what had happened next.
Ann, in her bed in her room, was wondering the same thing, and wondering if she would ever know the answer.
"Magic things goeth by threes," she said to herself. "Does that mean the next adventure'll be the last one?"
She was still wondering when she fell asleep.
5. The Greenwood Tree
Roger woke up the next morning to a chinking and a clinking and a coming and going of feet, all adding up to what he recognized all too well as the sound of Putting Away.
He opened his eyes and looked across the room. The Magic City was gone, except for the castle in one corner with a part of the park and the statue of St. George Peabody, and the dollhouse in the next corner, and some fake trees along the wall in between, and Prince John's court in the fireplace.
And in the middle of the room stood his mother, gazing round at her handiwork as though she found it good.
Roger sat up in bed. His mother met his accusing look. "I know," she said, defensively, "but it just Had To Be. Think of the poor maid who's supposed to clean in here."
At this moment Ann came rushing in from the hall. "They're gone!" she cried.
"What are?" said their mother.
"Who?" said Roger.
"Ivanhoe and Rebecca and that Brian." She turned on their mother. "What did you do with them?"
Their mother gestured vaguely toward the castle. "Whatever I found I put over there somewhere."
"Oh! Now we'll never know how they would have got back if you hadn't!" Ann wailed.
"Honestly!" said their mother. "You'd almost think the things were alive!"
Ann and Roger exchanged a look.
On the way to breakfast they met Eliza. She was full of excited plans. "What'll we do next?" she said. "It's my turn this time, 'cause I said dibs on it. What'll we make happen tonight?"
"Nothing," said Roger. "We can't." And he reminded her about magic going by threes.
"It would!" said Eliza, bitterly. "You'd almost think it tried to make things harder! How'll we exist in the meantime?"
"The meantime of what?" said Jack, coming into the dining room behind them.
"You wouldn't believe it if we told you," said Roger. And they proceeded to.
Luckily the custom at Aunt Katharine's was the sensible one of having the children eat by themselves, except on special occasions; so they were able to tell Jack all through breakfast with no fear of grown-up scoffing, and spill as much maple syrup as they wanted to, in their enthusiasm, without the tyranny of table manners to interrupt.
When they'd finished they could see he was impressed.
"Now do you believe in magic?" said Ann.
"There might be something to it," Jack admitted. "Maybe not magic, exactly. Maybe kind of extrasensory perception, more. Maybe next time I'd better come along. Look at it scientifically."
"Huh uh," said Roger. "No more science."
"Not that old science fiction stuff, real science," said Jack. "Examine the facts. I'll bring my camera. "
"That'll be nice," said Ann.
They all went up to Roger's room. "Just where did it happen?" said Jack, looking around and sniffing the air, as an inquiring photographer and scientific detective should.
"It's no use. It's too late. Mother picked up," Ann told him bitterly.
"That reminds me," said Roger. He went over and investigated the castle. Their mother had piled the soldiers every which way in the keep, and it took a long time to get them sorted.
Eliza was boss, because it was her adventure next. Under her direction, they put Robin Hood and the Black Knight and Maid Marian and some Merry Men out among the fake trees, and lined up De Bracy and his followers in besieging formation outside the castle again. They stood various courtiers and attendants about the lower chambers (Rowena was still sulking in her upper one), but they couldn't find Ivanhoe or Rebecca or Brian de Bois-Guilbert anywhere.
"Let's get the Old One," said Ann.
"Who's he?" said Jack.
They told him.
But when Eliza took the Old One from the castle, and asked him what had happened to Ivanhoe and the others, he didn't answer, and at first he was so cold in their hands that they were afraid the magic was over for good. Jack was beginning to look skeptical when all of a sudden the Old One did warm up a little, as though to show them it wasn't over, but that was all he would do.
"Interesting," said Jack, feeling the warm Old One. "Peculiar phenomenon. Probably some quality in the metal. Retains heat."
"Why wouldn't he answer?" said Ann.
"Maybe we're not meant to know," said Roger. "Maybe we're meant to not do anything about it, and just wait till the third night."
"That's going to be hard," said Ann.
"Hard," said Eliza, "is not the word. I for one shall go raving tearing mad."
But it turned out that she didn't. And the three days passed quicker than you would have believed. Once you're friends with people, it's surprising how much you can find to do with them, even without magic to Light the Way.
Roger went on learning about photography from Jack, and met some of Jack's friends and hacked around with them, and played a lot of baseball and in general decided Jack wasn't really half so bad as he had painted him.
Ann didn't have such an easy time. With Roger so busy, she was left to Eliza's tender mercies, and the difference between eight years old and eleven-and-a-half loomed large. But Eliza was surprisingly nice, and offered to play hopscotch with her, and jacks, and one day she gave a tea party for Ann, and asked all her friends to meet her.
Ann was grateful, though she didn't enjoy the conversation much, which was mostly about which boys on the block were the best-looking. Nor did she prove proficient in dancing the Lindy, when the big girls tried to teach her how. She would rather have stayed in her room and investigated her new dollhouse, but she suppressed this thought. Eliza, she felt somehow, would disdain it.
And at last the third night came.
There had been some worry about sleeping arrangements, but their mothers were so pleased at what good friends they were getting to be that they raised no objections when Eliza wanted a cot put up in Ann's room, and Jack asked to sleep on Roger's couch.
That night four bathrobed figures assembled before the castle. It had been a big day of baseball, and Jack got down on the floor now and started moving De Bracy and his followers around in different formations, demonstrating how Roger could have won the game if he'd played differently.
"Don't!" said Ann. "Once you start moving them around you never can tell what might happen!"
"What could happen?" said Jack.
"Almost anything," said Eliza. "You don't know what that magic's like when it's roused!"
"Ah, don't pay any attention to them," said Roger suddenly and basely, full of his new manly importance as Jack's friend. "They're just a couple of crazy girls."
After that, Ann did not take much part in the conversation.
Eliza's reaction to being called a crazy girl was different. In the process of her reaction a chair leg came off and the floor was scratched, but no one was seriously hurt.
"One thing I've been wondering," said Roger, when peace had been restored. "Why doesn't the Old One ever talk to us when we run into him? I mean, when we meet him in the magic part. All he ever does is kind of smile and wink."
"Yes," said Eliza. "You'd think he could at least give us advice and steer our faltering steps."
"Maybe he can't," said Jack. "When you see him in the magic part—I mean the old-time part," he corrected himself, for he still wasn't ready to admit the magic was real, "why, then he's in his own time. He can't get out of it into yours, any more than you can get into his."
"But we do," said Eliza.
"Not ackcherly," said Jack. "You're still yourselves, all the time you're back there. You're not really part of that time at all. You're sort of just visiting."
All this about two kinds of time was too deep for Ann. And when she said so, and Jack tried to explain, Roger betrayed her again.
"She won't get it," he said. "She's too young."
Ann felt depressed. Not only was she a girl, but she was too young. There didn't seem to be much future for anybody who was both these things. She gave Roger a wounded look, and turned away from him to the others. "Isn't it bedtime?" she said.
"For once in my life," said Eliza, "I wish it were."
"We could set the clock ahead," suggested Roger. He felt a little guilty and smiled at the back of Ann's neck, trying to make her turn around, but she wouldn't.
Jack shook his head. "That's no good. It wouldn't be scientific. Might spoil the whole thing."
So then Ann said she was going to bed anyway, and Eliza went with her. And then Roger remembered to warn Jack about the Words of Power; so he wouldn't use them by accident, and cut off the adventure in full flower, the way Eliza had. After that he tried to think whether there were anything more he should tell Jack, and there didn't seem to be. He forced a yawn. "Ho hum," he said. "Might as well hit the sack, too."
"What for?" said Jack. "It's early."
"I just guess I will," said Roger. And he got into bed.
If the truth must be told, he was feeling sorry for the things he'd said about Ann, and the way she had looked after he'd said them. The sooner the magic began the sooner everything would be right again.
Jack went on talking to him from across the room, but Roger shut his eyes and began taking long breaths, pretending he was asleep. Pretty soon, as so often happens when you do this, he was.
Jack strapped his camera on, in readiness for whatever striking scene might occur, and lay down on the couch, but he still felt wide awake. After a bit he got up and tiptoed across the room and stood looking down at Roger. Roger's eyes were shut.
And reassured that Roger wasn't awake, to see him being so childish, Jack tiptoed over to the fake trees near the castle, and knelt down and started playing with Robin Hood and his band, for all the world as though he were a boy of eleven, and not a man of nearly thirteen.
He had the Merry Men hunt a deer. Then he had them hold an archery contest. Robin Hood won easily, by shooting the petals off a daisy, one by one.
After that, Jack lay back on the carpet. He'd just stretch out here a minute, he told himself; then he'd get into bed. Strange as it seemed and early as it was, he felt suddenly very, very sleepy.
When Roger woke up and saw the familiar plateau stretching around him and knew that the magic was happening, he scrambled to his feet and hurried down the rocky path to the plain below. Far away toward the horizon he made out two dim figures hurrying toward him. Roger ran and the figures ran, and they met on the greensward.
"I'm sorry," were the first words of Roger.
"What for?" said Ann.
"You know," said Roger.
"What are you talking about?" said Eliza.
"Nothing," said Ann, but she felt better. "Where's Jack?"
"He slept that way," said Roger, pointing at a far plateau that had been Jack's couch. The three of them hurried across the plain. But as they neared the plateau, they couldn't see any sign of human habitation. And when they came right up to it, they saw that the plateau was smooth and unruffled, as though it hadn't been slept on all night.
"If that isn't just like that magic!" Eliza cried indignantly. "It got to him ahead of us. He's probably somewhere in the middle of it right now, being scientific and ruining my adventure! Come on!"
"Where?" said Ann. "We don't know where he is, or Ivanhoe, or anybody!"
"Start with the castle," said Roger. "That's always the beginning of everything. Our Social Studies book says in medieval times the castle was the hub of all activity."
The three of them ran toward the familiar towers of Torquilstone. As they hurried through the park, they could see figures moving up ahead.
"The siege must be still going on," said Roger, pointing.
"Oh, is that what they're doing?" said Ann. "That isn't what it looks like."
And now, as they drew nearer, the others saw that Ann was right. What was going on didn't look like a siege at all. A ball came hurtling through the air, but it didn't seem to be a cannonball, exactly. Some sort of stick flashed in the sun, but it didn't seem to be a pikestaff, or a quarterstaff, either.
And then they were very close, and loud voices rang on the bright air.
"He striketh thrice!" cried the first voice, in loud, official-sounding tones. "Out upon him!"
Other voices interrupted angrily. "Nay!" they cried. "A pox on thee! 'Twas a ball! Slay the Umpire!" And all the figures surged together in a quarreling knot.
Roger and Ann and Eliza came to a halt near some varlets who were looking on. "What's happening?" Roger asked one of them.
"It be ye sport of Base Ball," said the varlet. "The Norman team claimeth a ball but the Umpire saith them nay. It be ye olde Rhubarb."
"Good grief," said Roger. "Has the siege come to this? This is worse than last time."
Ann did not say "I told you so" to her brother. She merely gave him a meaningful look.
"Jack ought to be here," said Eliza. "He'd be in his glory. Where do you suppose he is?"
"Never mind about that now," said Roger. "The point is, who's winning?"
"It be a tie," said the varlet. "Naught to naught in ye sixth."
And now the quarrel (or rhubarb) seemed to be over, and the Saxons and Normans straggled back to their positions. A dignified-looking, white-haired gentleman who seemed to be the Umpire tossed the ball back into play, and the children saw that it was the Old One. He raised his eyebrows at Roger, but did not speak.
Meanwhile a tall Norman had stepped up to home plate, swinging his bat. At sight of him a murmur ran through the crowd. Some cheered and cried, "Up the Normans!" while others booed.
"Who is it?" hissed Roger to the varlet.
" 'Tis the greatest Norman of them all," said the varlet. " 'Tis Babe De Bracy. 'Tis ye Sultan of Swatte."
And then, as all eyes were fixed on the mighty Norman, a shameful thing happened. The Lady Rowena appeared on the battlements of the castle, no longer slothful and chocolate-fed, but slim and lovely, her blonde hair streaming on the wind. And as Roger and Eliza and Ann watched, horrified, she waved a lily-white hand at De Bracy. The mighty batsman bowed low in her direction, and she blew him a kiss.
"Why, the traitorous thing!" said Ann. "Imagine!"
"Isn't that just like her?" said Eliza.
The booing from the Saxon fans, which had grown louder when the Lady Rowena appeared, died down, and again Babe De Bracy approached home plate, his bat swinging.
But again there was an interruption. The portcullis of the castle moved upward, the drawbridge creakingly descended, and two figures advanced across it, on horseback. One was bearded and elderly, and the three children recognized him right away. It was Cedric the Saxon, Ivanhoe's father. Wamba the jester rode by his side.
De Bracy left the baseball diamond arid strode over to the two horsemen. "What meaneth this?" he said. "Doth the castle surrender?"
Cedric the Saxon drew himself up proudly. "Never," he cried, "while breath remaineth in me to defend it! I but crave leave to depart to seek my vanished son."
"Thy son is dead, methinks," said De Bracy, "else why hath he not returned?"
"Dead fiddlesticks!" cried Rowena, appearing suddenly on the drawbridge beside them and interrupting. "Run off with that Rebecca, more likely!"
"Temper, temper!" said Wamba.
"Peace, fool," said Rowena.
"For shame," said Cedric the Saxon, glaring at Rowena. "Smiling on the enemy and making thy great eyes at him from the very battlements of our Saxon stronghold, I saw thee!"
"I must needs smile at someone," said Rowena, "and none other was forthcoming. Besides, all the ladies smile at the Sultan of Swatte." And she batted her eyes at De Bracy.
"Faugh!" said Cedric the Saxon. "I shall find my son, if he be living, and he shall return to save our merrie land from these degenerate games. Sultan of Swatte, indeed! My son shall swatte thee!" And he turned his haughty glare upon De Bracy.
"Take care, gaffer," said the Norman. "Who cometh begging favors must needs speak more discreetly. Nonetheless, none can say Maurice De Bracy was ever an ungenerous foe. Depart in peace and seek thy son. But proceed with caution, for thou art old and thy fool but a fool." He strode back to the baseball diamond. "Play ball!" he cried, and the game began again.
Ann and Roger and Eliza ran after Cedric and Wamba. "Wait!" Roger called. "Take us with you; we want to find him, too!"
The two riders reined in their horses. " 'Tis Roger!" cried Wamba. "And the witch and the sorceress with him! Now surely we are in luck, for they have come to set us on the right path."
"Lead me to my son, elf-child," said Cedric the Saxon, "and I shall bless thy name forever."
"I can't," said Roger. "I don't know where he is."
"We know where he was," put in Ann, "but he's not there any more."
"Then surely my son is dead," cried Cedric, "if the magic of Elfland itself cannot find him!"
"Not necessarily," said Roger.
"You'd be surprised what all we don't know," said Eliza.
"We know he's not that way, though," said Ann, pointing ahead through the park toward the greensward and the distant plateaus. "We've been there."
So Cedric the Saxon and Wamba turned their horses toward the grove of trees on their left, and Roger climbed up with Wamba, and Cedric lifted Eliza and Ann up to ride with him in a kind of double pillion, and they set off to look for Wilfred of Ivanhoe.