Wet Magic - E. Nesbit (read novels website TXT) 📗

benches all around it, and two men just finishing covering the front benches with red cotton strips.

“Where’s the Mermaid?” Mavis asked a little boy in tights and a spangled cap.

“In there,” he said, pointing to a little canvas door at the side of the squarish tent. “I don’t advise you to touch her, though. Spiteful, she is. Lashes out with her tail⁠—splashed old Mother Lee all over water she did⁠—an’ dangerous too: our Bill ’e got ’is bone set out in his wrist a-trying to hold on to her. An’ it’s thruppence extry to see her close.”

There are times, as we all know, when threepence extra is a baffling obstacle⁠—a cruel barrier to desire, but this was not, fortunately, such a moment. The children had plenty of money, because Mother had given them two half-crowns between them to spend as they liked.

“Even then,” said Bernard, in allusion to the threepence extra, “we shall have two bob left.”

So Mavis, who was treasurer, paid over the extra threepences to a girl with hair as fair and lank as hemp, and a face as brown and round as a tea cake, who sat on a kitchen chair by the Mermaid door. Then one by one they went in through the narrow opening, and at last there they were alone in the little canvas room with a tank in it that held⁠—well, there was a large label, evidently written in a hurry, for the letters were badly made and arranged quite crookedly, and this label declared:

Real Live Mermaid

Said To Be Fabulus, But Now True

Caught Here

Please Do Not Touch

Dangerous

The little Spangled Boy had followed them in and pointed to the last word.

“What I tell you?” he asked proudly.

The children looked at each other. Nothing could be done with this witness at hand. At least.⁠ ⁠…

“Perhaps if it’s going to be magic,” Mavis whispered to Francis, “outsiders wouldn’t notice. They don’t sometimes⁠—I believe. Suppose you just said a bit of ‘Sabrina’ to start the magic.”

“Wouldn’t be safe,” Francis returned in the same low tones. “Suppose he wasn’t an outsider, and did notice.”

So there they stood helpless. What the label was hung on was a large zinc tank⁠—the kind that they have at the tops of houses for the water supply⁠—you must have seen one yourself often when the pipes burst in frosty weather, and your father goes up into the roof of the house with a candle and pail, and the water drips through the ceilings and the plumber is sent for, and comes when it suits him. The tank was full of water and at the bottom of it could be seen a mass of something dark that looked as if it were partly browny-green fish and partly greeny-brown seaweed.

“Sabrina fair,” Francis suddenly whispered, “send him away.”

And immediately a voice from outside called “Rube⁠—Reuben⁠—drat the boy, where’s he got to?”⁠—and the little spangled intruder had to go.

“There, now,” said Mavis, “if that isn’t magic!” Perhaps it was, but still the dark fish-and-seaweed heap in the tank had not stirred. “Say it all through,” said Mavis.

“Yes, do,” said Bernard, “then we shall know for certain whether it’s a seal or not.”

So once again⁠—

“ ‘Sabrina fair,
Listen where thou art sitting,
Under the glassie, cool, translucent wave⁠—’ ”

He got no further. There was a heaving and stirring of the seaweed and fish tail, something gleamed white, through the brown something white parted the seaweed, two white hands parted it, and a face came to the surface of the rather dirty water and⁠—there was no doubt about it⁠—spoke.

“ ‘Translucent wave,’ indeed!” was what the face said. “I wonder you’re not ashamed to speak the invocation over a miserable cistern like this. What do you want?”

Brown hair and seaweed still veiled most of the face, but all the children, who, after their first start back had pressed close to the tank again, could see that the face looked exceedingly cross.

“We want,” said Francis in a voice that would tremble though he told himself again and again that he was not a baby and wasn’t going to behave like one⁠—“we want to help you.”

“Help me? You?” She raised herself a little more in the tank and looked contemptuously at them. “Why, don’t you know that I am mistress of all water magic? I can raise a storm that will sweep away this horrible place and my detestable captors and you with them, and carry me on the back of a great wave down to the depths of the sea.”

“Then why on earth don’t you?” Bernard asked.

“Well, I was thinking about it,” she said, a little awkwardly, “when you interrupted with your spells. Well, you’ve called and I’ve answered⁠—now tell me what I can do for you.”

“We’ve told you,” said Mavis gently enough, though she was frightfully disappointed that the Mermaid after having in the handsomest manner turned out to be a Mermaid, should be such a very short-tempered one. And when they had talked about her all day and paid the threepence each extra to see her close, and put on their best white dresses too. “We’ve told you⁠—we want to help you. Another Sabrina in the sea told us to. She didn’t tell us anything about you being a magic-mistress. She just said ‘they die in captivity.’ ”

“Well, thank you for coming,” said the Mermaid. “If she really said that it must be one of two things⁠—either the sun is in the House of Liber⁠—which is impossible at this time of the year⁠—or else the rope I was caught with must be made of llama’s hair, and that’s impossible in these latitudes. Do you know anything about the rope they caught me with?”

“No,” said Bernard and Kathleen. But the others said, “It was a lariat.”

“Ah,” said the Mermaid, “my worst fears are confirmed⁠—But who could have expected a lariat on these shores? But that must have been it. Now I know why, though I have been on the point of working the magic of the Great Storm at least five hundred times since my