Arabel and Mortimer (15 page)

"I could sew ever so much better if he wasn't in the
world,
" said Mrs. Jones. "Oh, very well! Put on
your parka, then. Anything to get that black monster out from under my feet."

So Arabel ran joyfully to get her parka and her skipping rope, while Mortimer jumped up and down a great many times, shouting, "Nevermore!" with great enthusiasm and satisfaction.

Then Mrs. Jones watched them safely across the road and through the gate into Rainwater Garden.

"Don't you go far from the gate, now!" she called. "And don't you get near that Bullroarer, Arabel! I don't want you chopped up, or squashed flat, or falling down that big hole it's dug."

"What about Mortimer?"

"I don't care
what
happens to him," said Mrs. Jones.

Just inside the gate of Rainwater Crescent Garden Mr. Walpole the gardener was standing, talking to a bald man.

"Hullo, Mr. Walpole," said Arabel, running up to him. "Ma says that Mortimer and me are to be in your charge."

"That's all right, dearie," said Mr. Walpole absently, listening to what the bald man was saying to him. "I'll keep an eye on ye. Just don't ye goo near my LawnSabre, that's all ... Is that so, then, Mr. Dunnage, about the hole? That'll put a stop to that-thurr municipal car-park plan, then, I dessay?"

"It certainly will, till we can get someone from
the British Museum to come and have a look," said Mr. Dunnage, who taught history at Rumbury Comprehensive, and was also on the Rumbury Historical Preservation Society, and he hurried off to Rumbury underground station to fetch a friend of his from the British Museum.

"Seems they found su'thing val'ble down in that-urr dratted great hole they bin an' dug just whurr my compost heap used to be," said Mr. Walpole. "
I
could'a' told 'em! I allus said 'twould be a mistake to go a-digging in Rainwater Gardens. Stands to reason,
if there'd a bin meant to be a car-park under thurr, thurr wouldn't a-bin a garden 'ere, dunnit?"

"What did they find down in the hole, Mr. Walpole?" said Arabel.

"
I
dunno," said Mr. Walpole. "Mr. Dunnage, 'e said they found su'think that sounded like a sort o' 'sparagus. But
that
can't be right. For one thing, I ain't put
in
no 'sparagus, ner likely to, and second, 'sparagus ain't a root vegetable, let alone you'd never find it down so deep as that."

And he stumped away, whistling all on one note, to his LawnSabre, which was standing near the paved part in the middle of the garden.

Mortimer instantly started walking after Mr. Walpole with such a meaningful expression that Arabel said quickly: "Come on, Mortimer, let's see if we can find out what the valuable thing is at the bottom of the deep hole. Maybe it's treasure!"

And she picked up Mortimer and carried him in the other direction.

"Kaaark," said Mortimer, twisting his head round disappointedly.

But when they reached the edge of the enormous hole, even Mortimer was so interested that, for a time, he almost forgot about the LawnSabre. The hole was so deep that a guardrail had been rigged up round the edge and a series of ladders led down to the bottom. Standing by the rail and looking over, Arabel
and Mortimer could just see down as far as the bottom, where about a dozen people were craning and pushing to look at something in the middle.

"What have they found down there?" Arabel asked a boy with a skateboard, who was standing beside her.

"Somebody said it was a round table," said the boy.

"A
table
?
That
doesn't sound very valuable," said Arabel, disappointed. "I thought they'd found something like a king's crown. Why should a table be valuable? Why should a table be down at the bottom of a hole?"

"
I
dunno," said the boy. "Maybe it's a vegy-table! Ha, ha, ha!" And he stepped onto his skateboard, pushed off, and glided away down the path. Arabel gazed after him with envy. But Mortimer, staring down into the great crater, was struggling and straining in Arabel's arms. He wanted to go down the ladder and see for himself what was at the bottom.

"
No,
Mortimer," said Arabel. "
You
can't go down there. How would you get back? You'd have to fly, and you know you don't like that. Come and see what Sandy's doing. He's got his fiery torches again."

She carried the unwilling Mortimer back to the circle of watchers round Sandy Smith, who was now swallowing great gulps of fire from his blazing torches and then spitting them out again.

"Coo, he
is
clever," said Arabel. "How would you like to do that, Mortimer?"

"Nevermore," muttered Mortimer.

He would swallow almost
any
thing so long as it was hard; but fire always made him nervous, and he edged backward when Sandy blew out a mouthful of flame.

Then Sandy stuck his fiery torches into the loose earth of a flower bed and pulled a wheel out of his bag. The wheel was a bit bigger than an LP disk, and it had a pedal on each side. Sandy put his feet on the pedals, and suddenly—
whizz
—he began to cycle
round and round inside the ring of people who were watching. He made it look very easy by sticking his hands into his pockets and playing a tune on his nose organ as he pedaled along. Then he began to go faster and faster, leaning inward on the bends like a tree blown by the wind. Everybody clapped like mad, and Mortimer jumped up and down. He had wriggled out of Arabel's arms and was standing on the ground beside her.

Then Sandy noticed Arabel standing among the watchers.

"Hi, Arabel," he said, "like a ride on my shoulders?"

"
Could
I?" said Arabel.

"Why not?" said Sandy. "Come on!" He stepped off his wheel—which at once fell over on its side—picked up Arabel, and perched her on his shoulders, with a foot dangling forward on each side of his face.

"Hold on tight!" he said.

"Kaaark!"
shouted Mortimer, who did not want to be left behind.

But Sandy, who had not noticed Mortimer, got back onto his wheel and began riding round and round in a circle again. Arabel felt as if she were flying; the wind rushed past her face, and when he went round a tight curve Sandy leaned over so far that there was nothing between her and the ground.

"Oh, it's lovely!" cried Arabel. "Mortimer! Look at me, Mortimer!"

But Mortimer was not looking at Arabel. Very annoyed at being left behind, he had turned his black head right round on its neck and was looking for Mr. Walpole and the LawnSabre. Then he started walking purposefully away from the group of people who were watching Sandy.

"Sandy," said Arabel as he whizzed round and round, "why are they getting someone from the British Museum to look at the thing they found in that hole if it's only a table?"

Arabel thought Sandy must know all about it, as he had been in the garden since breakfast time, and sure enough he did.

"They found a great big round, flat stone thing," he said, pedaling away. "It's just about as big as this circle I'm making."

He did another whirl round, and Arabel, who was getting a little giddy, clutched hold of his hair with both hands. Luckily there was plenty of hair to hold on to, bright ginger in color.

"Why should a man from the British Museum come to look at a big round stone thing?"

"Because they think it's King Arthur's Round Table, that's why!"

Sandy shot off down a path, did a circle round two trees, and came back the same way that he had gone.

"What makes them think that?" asked Arabel, holding on even tighter, and ducking her head, as they passed under some trees with low branches.

"Because there's a long sword stuck right in the middle of the stone table. And it has a red sparkling ruby in the handle. And they think it might be King Arthur's sword Excalibur!"

Arabel had never heard of King Arthur's sword Excalibur, and she was beginning to feel rather queer. The tomato soup, the battered fish fingers, and
the banana that she had eaten for her lunch had all been whizzed round inside her until her stomach felt like a spin dryer full of mixed laundry.

"I think I'd better get down now, Sandy," she said politely. "Thank you very much for the ride, but I'd better see what Mortimer is doing."

"Okay," said Sandy, and he glided to a stop beside a tree, holding his arm round the trunk as he came up to it. Then he lifted Arabel off his shoulders and put her down on the ground. Arabel found that her legs would not hold her up, and she sat down, quite suddenly, on the grass. Her head still seemed to be whirling round even though she was sitting still.

"I do feel funny," she said.

"You'll be better in a minute," said Sandy, who was used to the feeling.

Arabel tried to look around her for Mortimer, but all the trees and people and grass and daffodils seemed to be swinging round in a circle, and she had to shut her eyes.

"Can you see Mortimer anywhere, Sandy?" she asked, with her eyes shut.

But Sandy had got back onto his wheel and pedaled away; he was juggling with his three balls as he rode.

Meanwhile, where
was
Mortimer?