_The Grey Pumpkin’s Fate_
And now, the smoke having entirely disappeared, Old Nancy turned again
toward the Grey Pumpkin. She raised the Black Leaf high over her head
and, closing her eyes, murmured something to herself; then she opened
her eyes and said to Molly:
“I have summoned the Pumpkin’s spies, but while we are waiting for them
I want you to tell us the story of how you found the Black Leaf.”
Molly felt very shy all at once, but she obeyed Old Nancy, and standing
on the doorstep, facing the crowd, she told her story as briefly as
she could, without leaving out the name of anybody who had helped.
One of the councillors was asked by the King to take down her words
in a note-book so that they could be afterward read by all those at a
distance who could not hear. When Molly came to the part about Miss
Lydia she forgot her shyness and grew enthusiastic.
“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.