The House of Arden | Page 5

Station.
"Let's go by train," said Edred grandly.
"No money," said Elfrida, very forlornly indeed.
"Aha!" said Edred; "now you'll see. I'm not mean about money. I brought my new florin."
"Oh, Edred," said the girl, stricken with remorse, "you are noble."
"Pooh!" said the boy, and his ears grew red with mingled triumph and modesty; "that's nothing. Come on."
So it was from the train that the pilgrims got their first sight of Arden Castle. It stands up boldly on the cliff where it was set to keep off foreign foes and guard the country round about it. But of all its old splendour there is now nothing but the great walls that the grasses and wild flowers grow on, and round towers whose floors and ceilings have fallen away, and roofless chambers where owls build, and brambles and green ferns grow strong and thick.
The children walked to the castle along the cliff path where the skylarks were singing like mad up in the pale sky, and the bean-fields, where the bees were busy, gave out the sweetest scent in the world--a scent that got itself mixed with the scent of the brown seaweed that rises and falls in the wash of the tide on the rocks at the cliff-foot.
"Let's have dinner here," said Elfrida, when they reached the top of a little mound from which they could look down on the castle. So they had it.
Two bites of sandwich and one of peppermint cream; that was the rule.
And all the time they were munching they looked down on the castle, and loved it more and more.
"Don't you wish it was real, and we lived in it?" Elfrida asked, when they had eaten as much as they wanted--not of peppermint creams, of course; but they had finished them.
"It is real, what there is of it."
"Yes; but I mean if it was a house with chimneys, and fireplaces, and doors with bolts, and glass in the windows."
"I wonder if we could get in?" said Edred.
"We might climb over," said Elfrida, looking hopefully at the enormous walls, sixty feet high, in which no gate or gap showed.
"There's an old man going across that field no, not that one; the very green field. Let's ask him."
So they left their satchels lying on the short turf, that was half wild thyme, and went down. But they were not quite quick enough; before they could get to him the old man had come through the field of young corn, clambered over a stile, and vanished between the high hedges of a deep-sunk lane. So over the stile and down into the lane went the children, and caught up with the old man just as he had clicked his garden gate behind him and had turned to go up the bricked path between beds of woodruff, and anemones, and narcissus, and tulips of all colours.
His back was towards them. Now it is very difficult to address a back politely. So you will not be surprised to learn that Edred said, "Hi!" and Elfrida said, "Halloa! I say!"
The old man turned and saw at his gate two small figures dressed in what is known as sailor costume. They saw a very wrinkled old face with snowy hair and mutton-chop whiskers of a silvery whiteness. There were very bright twinkling blue eyes in the sun-browned face, and on the clean-shaven mouth a kind, if tight, smile.
"Well," said he, "and what do you want?"
"We want to know--" said Elfrida.
"About the castle," said Edred, "Can we get in and look at it?"
"I've got the keys," said the old man, and put his hand in at his door and reached them from a nail.
"I s'pose no one lives there?" said Elfrida.
"Not now," said the old man, coming back along the garden path. "Lord Arden, he died a fortnight ago come Tuesday, and the place is shut up till the new lord's found."
"I wish I was the new lord," said Edred, as they followed the old man along the lane.
"An' how old might you be?" the old man asked.
"I'm ten nearly. It's my birthday to-morrow," said Edred. "How old are you?"
"Getting on for eighty. I've seen a deal in my time. If you was the young lord you'd have a chance none of the rest of them ever had--you being the age you are."
"What sort of chance?"
"Why," said the old man, "don't you know the saying? I thought every one knowed it hereabouts."
"What saying?"
"I ain't got the wind for saying and walking too," said the old man, and stopped; "leastways, not potery." He drew a deep breath and said--
"When Arden's lord still lacketh ten
And may not see his nine again,
Let Arden stand as Arden may
On Arden Knoll at death of day.
If he have skill to say the spell
He shall find the treasure, and all be well!"
"I say!"