“Only,” observed the raven, drily,
“there is one little objection to that. Generally—I
may be mistaken, of course, my notions are very old-fashioned,
I daresay—but, generally, people
give parties in their own houses, don’t they?”
And as he spoke he looked straight at Hugh, cocking
his head on one side more than ever.
THE FOREST OF THE RAINBOWS.
“Rose
and amethyst, gold and grey.”
“ONCE.”
Hugh felt rather offended. It was natural that
he should do so, I think. At least I am sure
that in his place I too should have felt hurt.
He had said nothing to make the raven speak in that
disagreeably sarcastic way.
“I wish Jeanne were here,” he said to
himself; “she would think of something to put
him down a little.”
But aloud he said nothing, so, great was his surprise,
when the raven coolly remarked in answer to his unspoken
thoughts,
“So Jeanne could put me down, you think?
I confess, I don’t agree with you. However,
never mind about that. We shall be very good friends
in time. And now, how about visiting the castle?”
“I should like to go,” replied Hugh, thinking
it wiser, all things considered, to get over his offended
feelings. “I should like to see the castle
very much, though I should have liked Jeanne to be
with me; but still,” he went on, reflecting
that Jeanne would be extremely disappointed if he
did not make the most of his present opportunity,
such as it was, “if you will be so kind as to
show me the way, Monsieur Dudu, I’d like to
go, and then, any way, I can tell Jeanne all about
it.”
“I cannot exactly show you the way,” said
the raven, “I am only the guardian on this side.
But if you will attend to what I say, you will get
on very well. Here, in the first place, is a pair
of wall-climbers to put on your feet.”
He held out his claw, on the end of which hung, by
a narrow ribbon, two round little cushions about the
size of a macaroon biscuit. Hugh took them, and
examined them curiously. They were soft and elastic,
what Hugh in his own words would have described as
“blobby.” They seemed to be made
of some stuff like indiarubber, and were just the colour
of his skin.
“What funny things!” said Hugh.
“They are made after the pattern of the fly’s
wall-climbers,” remarked the raven. “Put
them on—tie them on, that is to say, so
that they will be just in the middle of your foot,
underneath of course. That’s right; now
jump out of bed and follow me,” and before Hugh
knew what he was doing he found himself walking with
the greatest ease straight up the wall to where the
long flight of steps to the tapestry castle began.
On the lowest steps the raven stopped a moment.
“Shall I take them off now?” asked Hugh.
“I don’t need them to walk up steps with.”
