Knight's Castle (17 page)

And after the banquet everyone drank to Roger, and then came a cry of "Speech! Speech!" from the whole company, and Roger stood up and faced them all.

"Thanks a lot," he said, "and I just want to say I don't deserve any of it. I haven't been a hero a bit. The first time I came there wouldn't have been any trouble if I hadn't started it by talking too much. And the next two times I wasn't a speck of help to hardly anybody. And this last time there wouldn't have been any sword in the stone, or any army for me to be general of, if Ann hadn't worked out the secret rune when I couldn't, and she did just about the whole thing, and if there's any toasts going to be drunk, they ought to be to her. And I drink to her now."

And he drained his glass, and then smashed it on the stone floor, and sat down and blushed and didn't look at anybody, though Ann was looking at him and smiling for all she was worth.

But to his surprise the cheers now were louder than they had been before, and Robin Hood cried that that was the most heroic speech he ever did hear, pardie! And the Old One came all the way around the table and shook Roger's hand.

"Wisdom now the hero learneth," he said.

Roger looked at him. "You mean?"

"Wait," said the Old One. And he turned to the others. "Three cheers for Roger," he cried, "and may his name live forever, for the way he hath led soldiers!"

"He led soldiers! Led soldiers! Led soldiers!" cheered the whole company, and these were the most beautiful Words of Power (or of anything else) that Roger had ever heard in his life.

And the gray mist came down for the last time, and wafted the four children away in its soft nothingness, and the next Roger knew he was lying in bed and it was a bright morning of sun and blue sky, and his mother was standing over him with such a smile on her face that Roger knew he must have earned his wish at last, and it had come true.

Later that day he learned how his father had come through better than anyone had expected, and he was going to be fine. In fact, he was going to be better so soon that he could leave the hospital in just a little while now, and they were going to spend the rest of the summer on an island in a lake in the mountains on the boundary between New England and Canada, because that was the nearest they could get to the four different vacations the family had wanted.

"Though after the magic," said Eliza, when the four children were alone, "even the desertest island would seem paltry."

"I don't know," said Roger. "I'll be kind of glad to get back to normal. Not that it wasn't wonderful," he added quickly. "At least most of it was."

"And now we'll never see them again," said Jack. "I'm going to miss that Robin Hood. Those were the days."

"We can still play with them," said Ann. "I think they'll kind of
know.
"

"I never did get my special adventure," said Eliza. "It turned out to be somebody else's every time."

"Maybe that was on purpose," said Jack, grinning at her. "Maybe that was just to teach you."

Eliza looked surprised. Then slowly a smile spread over her face. "Well, for Heaven's sake," she said. "If that wouldn't be just like that magic's impudence! Trying to teach
me
moral lessons! Maybe you're right, though," she added, seriously. Maybe that's why it came into our lives, to make noble characters of us. I learned not to be bossy, and Ann learned to be brave and think for herself."

"And I learned there ackcherly is magic," said Jack.

"And I learned wisdom," said Roger, looking so smug and holy that Jack and Eliza fell on him and held him down and sat on him while Ann tickled his feet till he admitted that maybe he did have a
little
more to learn, still.

"I wish I could give you a picture to remember it all by," said Jack, when peace reigned again. "I had a keen one of you leading the army, but it didn't come out. None of them did."

"I didn't think they would, somehow," said Ann.

"I wonder if we'll ever have another summer together," said Roger.

"I wonder if it'll be a magic one," said Jack.

"Wottest thou not that all magic goeth by threes?" said Eliza. "Maybe we'll have two more!"

"Time will tell," said Ann. And it did.

Edward Eager
(1911–1964) worked primarily as a playwright and lyricist. It wasn't until 1951, while searching for books to read to his young son, Fritz, that he began writing children's stories. In each of his books he carefully acknowledges his indebtedness to E. Nesbit, whom he considered the best children's writer of all time—"so that any child who likes my books and doesn't know hers may be led back to the master of us all."