 Chapter 1 of Jimbo This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Jimbo by Algernon Blackwood. Read by Adrian Pretzelis. Chapter 1. Rabbits Jimbo's governess ought to have known better, but she didn't. If she had, Jimbo would never have met with the adventures that subsequently came to him. Thus in a roundabout sort of way, the child ought to have been thankful to the governess, and perhaps in a roundabout sort of way he was. But that comes at the far end of the story and is doubtful at best, and in the meantime the child had gone through his suffering, and the governess had in some measure expiated her fault. So that at this stage it is only necessary to note that the whole business began because the empty house happened to be really an empty house, not the one Jimbo's family lived in but another of which more will be known in due course. Jimbo's father was a retired colonel who had married late in life, and now lived all the year round in the country, and Jimbo was the youngest child with one. The colonel lean in body as he was sincere in mind, an excellent soldier but a poor diplomatist, loved dogs, horses, guns and riding-whips, and also really understood them. His neighbours, had they been asked, would have called him hard-headed, and so far as a soft-hearted man may deserve the title he probably was. He rode two horses a day to hounds with the best of them, and the stiff of the country the better he liked it. Besides his guns, dogs and horses, he was also very fond of his children. It was his hobby that he understood them far better than his wife did, or than anyone did for that matter. The proper evolution of their differing temperaments had no difficulties for him. The delicate problems of child nature which defied solution by nine parents out of ten ceased to exist the moment he spread out his muscular hand in a favourite omnipotent gesture and uttered some extraordinarily foolish generality in that thunderous, good-natured voice of his. The difficulty for himself vanished when he ended up with the words, leave that to me, my dear, believe me, I know best. But for all else concerned, and especially for the child under discussion, this was when the difficulty really began. Since, however, the colonel after this chapter mounts his best hunter and disappears over a high hedge into space, so far as our story is concerned, any further delineation of his wholesome but very ordinary type is unnecessary. One winter's evening, not very long after Christmas, the colonel made a discovery. It alarmed him a little, for it suggested to his cocksure mind that he did not understand all his children as comprehensively as he imagined. Between five o'clock and dinner, that magic hour when lessons were over and the big house was full of shadows and mystery, there came a timid knock at the study door. Come in! growled the soldier in his deepest voice, and a little girl's face, wreathed in tumbling brown hair, poked itself hesitatingly through the opening. The colonel did not like being disturbed at this hour, and everybody in the house knew it, but the spell of Christmas holidays was still somehow in the air, and the customary order was not yet fully re-established. Moreover, when he saw who the intruder was, his growl modified itself into a sort of common sternness, that yet was not cleverly enough simulated to deceive the really intuitive little person who now stood inside the room. Well, Nixie-child, what do you want now? Please, Father, will you, we wondered if a chorus of whispers issued from the other side of the door. Go on, silly, out with it! You promised you would, Nixie. If you would come and play rabbits with us, came the words in a desperate rush, with a laughter not far behind. The big man with the fierce white moustaches glared over the top of his glasses at the intruder, as if amazed beyond belief at the audacity of the request. Rabbits! he exclaimed, as if the mere word ought to have caused the instant explosion. Rabbits! Oh, please do! Rabbits at this time of night, he repeated. I've never heard of such a thing. Why, all good rabbits are asleep in their holes by this time, and you ought to be in yours too, by rights, I'm sure. We don't sleep in holes, Father, said the owner of the brown hair who was acting as leader. And there's really still an hour before bedtime. Really! added a voice in the rear. The big man slowly put his glasses down and looked at his watch. He looked very savage, but of course it was all pretence, and the children knew it. If he was really cross, he'd pretend to be nice, they whispered to each other, with merciless perception. Well! he began, but he who hesitates with children is lost. The door flung open wide and the troupe poured into the room in a medley of long black legs, flying hair and outstretched hands. They surrounded the table, swarmed upon his big knees, shut his stupid old book, tried on his glasses, kissed him, and fell to discussing the game breathlessly all at once, as though it had already begun. This of course ended the battle, and the big man had to play the part of the monster rabbit in a wonderful game of his own invention. But when at length it was all over, and they were gathered panting round the fire of blazing logs in the hall, the monster rabbit, the only one with any breath at his command, looked up and spoke. Where's Jimbo? he asked, upstairs. Why didn't he come and play, too? He didn't want to. Why? What's he doing? Several answers were forthcoming. Nothing in particular. Talking to the furniture when I last saw him. Just thinking as usual, or staring in the fire. None of the answers seemed to satisfy the monster rabbit, for when he kissed them a little later and said good night he gave orders with a graver face for Jimbo to be sent down to the study before he went to bed. Moreover he called him James, which was a sure sign of parental displeasure. James, why didn't you come and play with your brothers and sisters just now? Asked the colonel as a dreamy-eyed boy of about seven, with a mop of dark hair and a wistful expression came slowly forward into the room. I was in the middle of making pictures. Where? What? Making pictures? In the fire. James, said the colonel in a serious tone. Don't you know that you're getting too old now for that sort of thing? If you dream so much you'll fall asleep altogether some fine day and never wake up again. Just think what that means. The child smiled faintly and moved up confidingly between his father's knees, staring into his eyes without the least sign of fear. But he said nothing in reply. His thoughts were far away, and it seemed as if the effort to bring them back into the study and to a consideration of his father's words was almost beyond his power. You must run about more! pursued the soldier, rubbing his big hands together briskly, and join your brothers and sisters in their games. Lie about in the summer and dream a bit if you like, but now it's winter. You must be more active and make your blood circulate healthily, and all that sort of thing. The words were kindly spoken, but the voice and manner rather deliberate. Jimbo began to look a little troubled as his father watched him. Come now, little man! he said more gently. What's the matter, eh? He drew the boy close to him. Tell me all about it, and what it is you're always thinking about so much. Jimbo brought back his mind with a tremendous effort and said, I don't like the winter. It's so dark and full of horrid things. It's all ice and shadows. So I go away and think of what I like and other places. Nonsense! interrupted his father briskly. Winter's a capital time for boys. What in the world do you mean, I wonder? He lifted the child onto his knee and stroked his hair as though he were patting the flank of a horse. Jimbo took no notice of the interruption or of the caress, and went on saying what he had to say, though with eyes a little more clouded. Winter's like going into a long black tunnel, you see. It's downhill to Christmas, of course, then uphill all the way to the summer holidays, but the uphill part so slow that ta-ta-ta laughed the Colonel in spite of himself. You mustn't have such thoughts. Those are a baby's notion. They're silly, silly, silly. Do you really think so, Father? continued the boy, as if politeness demanded some recognition of his father's remarks, but otherwise anxious only to say what was on his mind. You wouldn't think them silly if you really knew, but of course, there's no one to tell you in the stable so you can't know. You've never seen the funny big people rushing past you and laughing through their long hair when the wind blows so loud. I know several of them almost to speak to, but you only hear wind, and the other things with tiny legs that skate up and down the slippery moonbeams without ever tumbling off. They aren't silly a bit, only they don't like dogs and noise. And I've seen the furniture, he pronounced it, furniture, dancing about in the day nursery when it thought it was alone, and I've heard it talking at night. I know the big cupboard's voice quite well. It's just like a drum, only rougher. The Colonel shook his head and frowned severely, staring hard at his son, but though their eyes met the boy hardly saw him. Far away at the other end of the tunnel of the months he saw the white summer sunshine lying over gardens full of nodding flowers. Butterflies were flitting across meadows yellow with butter-cups, and he saw the fascinating rings upon the lawn where the fairy people held their dances in the moonlight. He heard the wind call to him as it ran along by the hedge-rows and saw the gentle pressure of its swift feet upon the standing hay. Streams were murmuring under shady trees, birds were singing, and there were echoes of sweeter music still that he could not understand, but loved all the more perhaps on that account. Yes, announced the Colonel later that evening to his wife, spreading his hands out as he spoke. Yes, my dear, I have made a discovery and an alarming one. You know, I'm rarely at fault where the children are concerned, and I've noted all the symptoms with unusual care. James, my dear, is an imaginative boy. He paused to note the effect of his words, but seeing none he continued. I regret to be obliged to say it, but it's a fact beyond dispute. His head is simply full of things, and he talked to me this evening about tunnels and slippery moonlight till I nearly lost my temper altogether. Now, the boy will never make a man unless we take him in hand properly at once. We must get him a governess or something without delay. Just fancy if he grew up into a poet or one of these. In his distress the soldier could only think of horse terms, which did not seem quite the right language. He stuck all together and kept repeating the favourite gesture with his open hand, staring at his wife over his glasses as he did it. But the mother never argued. He's very young still, she observed quietly, and as you have always said, he's not a bit like other boys, remember? Exactly what I said. Now that your eyes are open to the actual state of affairs, I am satisfied. We'll get a sensible nursery governess at once, added the mother. A practical one? Yes, dear. Hard-headed? Yes. And well-educated? Yes. And, ah, firm with children? She'll do for the lot, then. If possible. And a young woman who doesn't go in for poetry and dreaming and all that kind of flummary? Of course, dear. Capital. I felt sure you would agree with me, he went on. It'd be no end of a pity if Jimbo grew up an ass, and presently hardly knows the difference between a roadster and a racer. He's going into the army, too, he added by way of climax, and you know, my dear, the army would never stand that. Never, said the mother quietly, and the conversation came to an end. Meanwhile the subject of these remarks was lying wide awake upstairs in the bed with the yellow iron railing round it. His elder brother was asleep in the opposite corner of the room, snoring peacefully. He could just see the brass knobs of the bedstead as the dying firelight quivered and shone on them. The walls and ceiling were draped in shadows that altered their shapes from time to time as the coals dropped softly into the grate. Gradually the fire sank, and the room darkened. A feeling of delight and awe stole into his heart. Jimbo loved these early hours of the night before sleep came. He felt no fear of the dark, its mystery thrilled his soul, but he liked the summer dark with its soft warm silences better than the chill winter shadows. Presently the firelight sprang up into a brief flame and then died away altogether with an odd little gulp. He knew the sound well. He often watched the fire out, and now as he lay in bed waiting for he knew not what, the moonlight filtered in through the blaze curtains and gradually gave to the room a wholly new character. Jimbo sat up in bed and listened. The house was very still. He slipped into his red dressing-gown and crept noiselessly over to the window. For a moment he paused by his brother's bed to make sure he really was asleep. Then, evidently satisfied, he drew aside a corner of the curtain and peered out. Oh! he said, drawing in his breath with delight and again, oh! It was difficult to understand why the sea of white moonlight that covered the lawn should fill him with such joy and at the same time bring a lump into his throat. It made him feel as if he were swelling out into something very much greater than the actual limits of his little person and the sensation was one of mingled pain and delight. Too intense for him to feel for very long. The unhappiness passed gradually away, he was noticed, and the happiness merged after a while into a sort of dreamy ecstasy into which he neither thought nor wished very much, but was conscious only of one single unmanageable yearning. The huge cedars on the lawn reared themselves up like giants in silver cloaks, and the horse-chestnut, the umbrella tree as the children called it, loomed with its motionless branches that were frosted and shining. Beyond it, in a blue mist of moonlight and distance, lay the kitchen garden, and he could just make out the line of the high wall where the fruit trees grew. Immediately below him the gravel of the carriage-drive sparkled with frost. The bars of the windows were cold to his hands, yet he stood there for a long time with his nose flattened against the pain and his bare feet on the cane chair. He felt both happy and sad. His heart longed dreadfully for something he had not got, something that seemed out of his reach because he could not name it. No one seemed to believe all the things he knew in quite the same way as he did. His brothers and sisters played up to a certain point and then put the things aside as if they had only been assumed for the time and were not real. To him they were always real. His father's words, too, that evening, had sorely puzzled him when he came to think over them afterwards. There are babies' notion they're silly, silly, silly. Were these things real or were they not? And as he pondered, yearning dumbly as only these little souls can yearn, the wistfulness in his heart went out to meet the moonlight in the air. Together they wove a spell that seemed to summon before him a fairy of the night who whispered an answer into his heart. We are real so long as you believe in us. It is your imagination that makes us real and gives us life. Please never, never stop believing. Jimbo was not quite sure that he understood the message, but he liked it all the same and felt comforted. So long as they believed in one another the rest did not matter very much after all. And when at last, shivering with cold, he crept back to bed, it was only to find, through the gates of sleep, a more direct way to the things he had been thinking about, and to wander for the rest of the night, unwatched and free, through the wonders of an enchanted land. Jimbo, as his father had said, was an imaginative child. Most children are, more or less, and he was more, or at least more, than his brothers and sisters. The Colonel thought he had made a penetrating discovery, but his wife had known it always. His head indeed was full of things, things that, unless trained into a channel where they could be controlled and properly schooled, would certainly interfere with his success in a practical world and be a source of mingled pain and joy into him all through life. To have trained these forces ever bursting out toward creation in his little soul, to have explained, interpreted, and dealt fairly by them, would perhaps have been the best and wisest way to have suppressed them all together, cleaned them out by the process of substitution. This might have succeeded too in less measure, but to turn them into a veritable route of horror by the common method of frightening the nonsense out of the boy. This was surely the very worst way of dealing with such a case, and the most cruel. Yet this was the method adopted by the Colonel in the robust, good nature of his heart and the utter ignorance of his soul. So it came about that three months later, when May was melting into June, Miss Ethel Lake arrived on the scene as a result of the Colonel's blundering good intentions. She brought with her a kind disposition, a supreme ignorance of unordinary children, a large store of self-confidence, and a corded yellow tin box. Please visit LibriVox.org. The conversation took place suddenly one afternoon, and no one knew anything about it except the two who took part in it. The Colonel asked the governess to try and knock the nonsense out of Jimbo's head, and the governess promised eagerly to do her very best. It was her first place, and by nonsense they both understood imagination. True enough Jimbo's mother had given her rather different instructions as to the treatment of the boy, but she mistook the soldier's blaster for authority and deemed it best to obey him. This was her first mistake. In reality she was not devoid of imaginative insight. It was simply that her anxiety to prove a success permitted her better judgment to be over-born by the Colonel's boisterous manner. The wisdom of the mother was greater than that of her husband. For the safe development of that tender and imaginative little boy of hers, she had been at great pains to engage a girl, a clergyman's daughter, who possessed sufficient sympathy with the poetic and dreamy nature to be of real help to him, for true help she knew can only come from true understanding. And Miss Lake was a good girl. She was entirely well-meaning, which is the beginning of well-doing, and her principal weakness lay in her judgment, which led her to obey the Colonel too literally. She seemed most sensible, he declared to his wife. Yes, dear. And practical. I think so. And firm. And wise with children. I hope so. Just the sort for young Jimbo, added the Colonel with decision. I trust so. She's a little young, perhaps. Possibly, but one can't get everything. Said her husband in his horse-and-dog voice. A year with her should clean out that fanciful brain of his and prepare him for school with other boys. He'll be all right once he gets to school. My dear, he added, spreading out his right hand, fingers extended. You've made a most wise decision. I congratulate you. I'm delighted. I'm so glad. Capital. I repeat. Capital. You're a clever little woman. I knew you'd find the right party once I showed you how the land lay. The empty house that stood in its neglected garden not far from the park gates was built on a point of land that edged wedge-wise into the Colonel's estate. Though something of an eye saw, therefore, he could do nothing with it. To the children it had always been an object of peculiar, though not unwholesome, mystery. None of them cared to pass it on a stormy day. The wind made such odd noises in its empty corridors and rooms, and they refused point-blank to go within hailing distance of it after dark. But in Jimbo's imagination it was especially haunted, and if he had ceased to reveal to the others what he knew went on under its roof, it was only because they were unable to follow him and were inclined to greet his extravagant recitals with, Now Jimbo, you know perfectly well you're only making it up. A house had been empty for many years, but to the children it had been empty since the beginning of the world, since what they called the very beginning. They believed, well, each child believed according to his own mind and powers, but there was at least one belief they all held in common, for it was generally accepted as an article of faith that the Indians, encamped among the shrubberies on the back lawn, secretly buried their dead behind the crumbling walls of its weedy garden, the dead provided by the children's battles, be it understood. Wakeful ears in the night nursery had heard strange sounds coming from that direction when the windows were open on hot summer nights, and the gardener, supreme authority in all that happened in the night, since they believed that he sat up to watch the vegetables and fruit trees ripen and never went to bed at all, was evidently of the same persuasion. When appealed to for an explanation of the mournful wind voices, he knew what was expected of him and rose manfully to the occasion. It's either them redskins are burying what you killed of him yesterday, he declared pointing towards the empty house with a bit of broken flower pot, or else it's the ones you killed last week, and who was always a stealer than my strawberries. He looked very wise, as he said this, and his wand of office, a dirty trowel which he held in his hand, gave him tremendous dignity. That's just what we thought, and of course, and of course, if you say so too, that settles it, said Nixie. It's more and likely missy, least ways from what you described, which is an empty house all the same, though I can't say as I've heard no sounds, not very distinct that is myself. The gardener may have been anxious to hedge a bit for fear of a scolding from headquarters, but his cryptic remark pleased the children greatly, because it showed they thought that they knew more than the gardener did. Thus the empty house remained an object of somewhat dreadful delight, lending a touch of wonderland to that part of the lane where it stood, and forming the background for many an enchanting story over the nursery fire in wintertime. It appealed vividly to their imaginations, especially to gymbos. Its dark windows, without blinds, were sometimes full of faces that retreated the moment they were looked at. That tangled ivy did not grow over the roof so thickly for nothing, and those high elms on the western side had not been planted years ago in a semi-circle without a reason. Thus, at least, the children argued, not knowing exactly what they meant, not caring much, so long as they proved to their own satisfaction that the place was properly haunted, and therefore worthy of their attention. It was natural they should lead Miss Lake into that direction on one of their first walks together, and it was natural, too, that she should at once discovered from their manner that the place was of importance. What a queer-looking old house! She remarked when they turned the corner of the lane to view almost a ruin, isn't it? The children exchanged glances. A ruin did not seem the right sort of word for it, and besides was a little disrespectful. Also, they were not sure whether the new governess ought to be told everything so soon. She had not really won their confidence yet. After a slight pause, and a children's pause, is the most eloquent imaginable, Nixie, being the eldest, said in a stiff little voice, It's the empty house, Miss Lake. We know it very well indeed. It looks empty, observed Miss Lake briskly. But it's not a ruin, of course, added the child, with the cold dignity of a chosen spokesman. Oh! said the governess, quite missing the point. She was talking lightly on the surface of things wholly ignorant of the depths beneath her feet, intuition with her having always been sternly repressed. It's a gamekeeper's cottage, or something like that, I suppose, she said. Oh no, it isn't a bit. Doesn't it belong to your father, then? No, it's somebody else's, you see. Then you can't have it pulled down? Rather not, of course not! Exclaimed several indignant voices at once. Miss Lake perceived for the first time that it held more than ordinary importance in their mind. Tell me about it, she said. What is its history, and who used to live in it? There came another pause. The children looked into each other's faces. They gazed at the blue sky overhead. Then they stared at the dusty road at their feet. But no one volunteered an answer. Miss Lake, they felt, was approaching the subject in an offensive manner. Why are you also mysterious about it, she went on? It's only a tumbledown old place, and must be very draughty to live in, even for a gamekeeper. Silence. Come, children, don't you hear me? I'm asking your question. A couple of startled birds flew out of the ivy with a great whirring of wings. This was followed by a faint sound of rumbling that seemed to come from the interior of the house. Outside all was still, and the hot sunshine lay over everything. The sound was repeated. The children looked at each other with large, expectant eyes. Something in the house was moving, was coming nearer. Have you all lost your tongues? asked the governor, impatiently. But you see, Nixie said at length, somebody does live in it now. And who is he? I didn't say it was a man. Whoever it is, tell me about the person. Persisted Miss Lake. There's really nothing to tell, replied the child, without looking up. Oh, but there must be something, declared the logical young governess, or you wouldn't object so much to its being pulled down. Nixie looked puzzled, but Jimbo came to the rescue at once. But you wouldn't understand if we did tell you, he said in a slow, respectful voice. His tone held a touch of that indescribable scorn heard sometimes in a child's voice. The utter contempt for the stupid grown-up creature. Miss Lake noticed and felt annoyed. She recognized that she was not getting on well with the children, and it peaked her. She remembered the colonel's words about knocking the nonsense out of James's head, and she saw that her first opportunity, in fact her first real test, was at hand. And why pray should I not understand? She asked, with some sharpness, is the mystery so very great? For some reason the duty of spokesman now devolved unmistakably upon Jimbo, and very seriously too he accepted the task, standing with his feet firmly planted in the road and his hands in his trousers pockets. You see Miss Lake, he began gravely. We know such a lot of things in there, and they might not like us to tell you about them. They don't know you yet. If they did it might be different, but you see it isn't. This was rather crushing to the aspiring educator, and the colonel's instructions gained additional point in the lights of the boy's explanation. Fiddles sticks, she laughed. There's probably nothing at all in there, except rats and cobwebs. Things indeed. I knew you would not understand, said Jimbo, coolly, with no sign of being offended. How could you? He glanced at his sisters, gaining so much support from their enigmatic faces that he added, for their a special benefit, how could she? The gardener said so too, chimed in a younger sister with a vague notion that their precious empty house was the object of its glory. Yes, but, James, dear, I do understand perfectly, continued Miss Lake more gently, and wisely ignoring the reference to the authority of the kitchen garden. Only, you see, I cannot really encourage you in such nonsense. It isn't nonsense, replied Jimbo with heat, but believe me, children, it is nonsense. How do you know that there's anything inside? Never been there. You can know perfectly well what's inside a thing without having gone there, replied Jimbo with scorn. At least we can. Miss Lake changed her tack a little, fatally as it appeared afterwards. I know at any rate, she said with decision, that there's nothing good in there. Whatever there may be is bad, thoroughly bad, and not fit for you to play with. The other children moved away, but Jimbo stood his ground. They were all angry, disappointed, sore, hurt, and offended. But Jimbo suddenly began to feel something else besides anger and vexation. It was a new point of view to him that the empty house might contain bad things as well as good, or perhaps only bad things. His imagination seized upon the point at once, and set to work vigorously to develop it. This was his way with all such things, and he could not prevent it. Bad things? He repeated, looking up at the governess. You mean things that could hurt? Yes, of course. She said, noting the effect of her words, and thinking how pleased the Colonel would be later when he heard it. Things that might run out and catch you some day when you're passing here alone and take you back a prisoner. Then you'd be a prisoner in the empty house all your life. Think of that! Miss Lake mistook the boy's silence as proof that she was taking the right line. She enlarged upon this view of the matter, now that she was so successfully launched, and described the inmate of the house with such wealth and detail that she felt sure her listener would never have anything to do with the place again, and that she had knocked out a particular bit of nonsense forever and today. But to Jimbo it was a new and horrible idea that the empty house haunted hitherto by rather jolly and wonderful red Indians, contained a monster who might take him prisoner, and the thought made him feel afraid. The mischief had, of course, been done, and the terror in his eyes was unmistakable when the foolish governess wore her mistake. Retreat was impossible. The boy was shaking with fear, and not all Miss Lake's genuine sympathy or Nixie's explanations and soothing's were able to relieve his mind of its new burden. Hitherto Jimbo's imagination had loved to dwell upon the pleasant side of things invisible, but now he had been severely frightened, and his imagination took a new turn. Not only the empty house, but all his inner world to which it was in some sense the key, underwent a distressing change. His sense of horror had been vividly aroused. The governess would willingly have corrected her mistake, but was, of course, powerless to do so. Bitterly she regretted her tactlessness and folly, but she could do nothing and to add to her distress she saw that Jimbo shrank from her in a way that could not long escape the watchful eye of the mother. But if the boy shed tears of fear that night in his bed it must injustice be told that she, for her part, cried bitterly in her own room, not that she had endangered her place, but that she had done a cruel injury to a child and that she was helpless to undo it. For she loved children, though she was quite unsuited to take care of them. Her just reward, however, came swiftly upon her. A few nights later, when Jimbo and Nixie were allowed to come down to desert, the wind was heard to make a queer moaning sound in the wisteria tree that hung over the dining room windows. Jimbo heard it too. He held his breath for a minute, then he looked round the table and frightened away, and the next minute gave a scream and burst into tears. He ran round and buried his face in his father's arms. After the tears came the truth. It was a bad thing for Miss Ethel Lake, this little joke of the wind and the wisteria tree. For the gin of terror she had thoughtlessly evoked, swept into the room, and introduced himself to the parents of his wife. What new nonsense is this now? growled the soldier, leaving his walnuts and lifting the boy onto his knee. He shouldn't come down till he's a little older and knows how to behave. What's the matter, darling child? Asked the mother, drying his eyes tenderly. I heard the bad things crying in the empty house. The empty house is a mile away from here, snorted the Colonel. But it's come nearer, declared the frightened boy. Who told you there were bad things in the empty house? asked the mother. Yes, who told you indeed I would like to know? demanded the Colonel. Then it all came out. The Colonel's wife was very quiet, but very determined. Miss Lake went back to the clerical family when she had come and the children knew her no more. I'm glad, said Nixie, voicing the verdict of the nursery. I thought she was awfully stupid. She wasn't a real lake at all, declared another. She was only a sort of puddle. Jimbo, however, said little, and the Colonel likewise held his peace. But the governess, whether she was a lake or only a puddle, left her mark behind her. The empty house was no longer harmless. It had a new lease on life. It was tenanted by someone who could never have friendly relations with children. The weeds in the old garden took on fantastic shapes. Figures hid behind the doors and crept about the passages. The rooks in the high elms became birds of ill omen. The ivy bristled upon the walls and the trivial explanations of the gardener were no longer satisfactory. Even in bright sunshine a shadow lay sprawling over the broken roof. At any moment it might leap into life and with immense striding legs chase the children down to the very park gates. There was no need to enforce the decree that the empty house was a forbidden land. The children of their own accord set it out of bounds and avoided it as carefully as if all the wild animals from the zoo were roaming its gardens, hungry and unchained. End of chapter two Chapter three of Jimbo This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Jimbo by Alginon Blackwood Read by Adrian Pretzelis Chapter three The Shock One immediate result of Miss Lake's indiscretion was that the children preferred to play on the other side of the garden. The side farthest from the empty house. A spiked railing here divided them from a field in which cows desported themselves and as a bull also was sometimes there the field was strictly out of bounds. In the spiked railing not far from the great shrubberies where the Indians increased and multiplied there was a swinging gate. The children swung on it whenever they could. They called this express trains and the fact that it was forbidden only added to their pleasure. When opened at its widest the gate would swing them with a rush through the air past the pillars with a click into the field and then back again into the garden. It was bad for the hinges and it was also bad for the garden because the gate was frequently left open after these carnivals and the cows got in and trod the flowers down. The children were not afraid of the cows but they held the bull in great horror. And these trivial things have been mentioned here because of the part they played in Jimbo's subsequent adventures. It was only 10 days or so after Mixed Lakes' sudden departure when Jimbo managed one evening to elude the vigilance of his lawful guardians and wandered off unnoticed among the Lebernams on the front lawn. From the Lebernams he passed successfully to the first Laurel shrubbery and then he executed a clever flank movement and entered the carriage drive in the rear. The rest was easy and he soon found himself at the lodge gate. For some moments he peered through the iron grating and pondered on the seductiveness of the dusty road and of the ditch beyond. To his surprise he found presently that the gate was moving outwards, it was yielding to his weight. One thing leads easily to another sometimes and the open gate led easily to the seductive road. The result was that a minute later Jimbo was chasing butterflies along the green lane and throwing stones into the water of the ditch. It was the evening of a hot summer's day and the butterflies were still out in force. Jimbo's delight was intense. The joy of finding himself alone where he had no right to be put everything else out of his head and for some time he wandered on, oblivious of all but the intoxicating scent of freedom and the difficulty in choosing between so many butterflies and such a magnificently dirty ditch. At first he yielded to the stuctions of the ditch. He caught a big sleepy beetle and put it in a violet leaf and sent it sailing out to sea and when it landed on the father's shore he found a still bigger and sent it forth on a voyage in another direction with a cargo of daisy petals and a hairy caterpillar for a boson's mate. But just as the vessel was getting underway a butterfly of amazing brilliance floated past incidentally under his very nose leaving the beetle and the caterpillar to navigate the currents as best they could he had once gave chase. Cap in hand he flew after the butterfly down the lane and a dozen times when his cap was just upon it it sailed away sideways without the least effort and escaped him. Then suddenly the lane took a familiar turning the ditch stopped abruptly the hedge on his right fell away altogether the butterfly danced out of sight into a field and Jimbo found himself face to face with the one thing in the whole field that could at that time fill him with abject terror the empty house he came to a full stop in the middle of the road and stared up at the windows he realized for the first time that he was alone and that it was possible for brilliant sunshine even on a cloudless day to become somehow lusterless and dull the wall showed a deep red in the sunset light the house was still as the grave his feet were rooted to the ground and it seemed as if he could not move a single muscle and as he stood there the blood ebbing quickly from his heart the words of the governess a few days before rushed back into his mind and turned his fear into a dreadful all possessing horror in another minute the battered door would slowly open and the horrible inmate come out to seize him already there was a sound of something moving within and as he gazed fascinated with terror a shuddering movement ran over the ivy leaves hanging down from the roof then they parted in the middle and something he could not in his agony see what flew out with a whirring sound into his face and then vanished into the fields jimbo did not pause a single second to find out what it was or to reflect that any ordinary thrush would have made just the same sound the shock it gave to his heart immediately loosened the muscles of his little legs and he ran for his very life but before he actually began to run he gave one piercing scream for help and the person he screamed to was the very person who was unwittingly the cause of his distress it was as though he knew instinctively that the person who had created for him the terror of the empty house with its horrible inmate was also the only person who could properly banish it and undo the mischief before it was too late he shrieked for help to the governess Miss Ethel Lake of course there was no answer but the noise of the air whistling in his ears as his feet flew over the road in a cloud of dust there was no friendly butcher's cart, no baker's boy or farmer with his dog and gun the road was deserted there was not even the beetle or the caterpillar he was beyond reach of help jimbo ran for his life but unfortunately he ran in the wrong direction instead of going the way he had come where the lodge gates were ready to receive him not a quarter of a mile away he fled in the opposite direction it so happened that the lane flanked the field where the cows lived but the cows were nothing compared to a creature from the empty house and even bulls seemed friendly the boy was over the five barred gate in a twinkling and halfway across the field before he heard a heavy thunderous sound behind him either the thing had followed him into the field or it was the bull as he raced he managed to throw a glance over his shoulder and saw a huge dark mass bearing down upon him a terrific speed it must be the bull he reflected the bull groaned to the size of an elephant and it appeared to him to have two immense black wings that flapped at its sides and helped it forward making a whirring noise like the arms of a great windmill this sight added to his speed but he could not last very much longer already his body ached all over and the frantic effort to get breath nearly choked him there before him not so very far away now was the swinging gate if only he could get there in time to scramble over into the garden he would be safe it seemed almost impossible meanwhile the sound of the following creature came closer and closer ground seemed to tremble he could almost feel the breath on his neck the swinging gate was only 20 yards off now 10 now only 5 now he had reached it at last he stretched out his hand to seize the top bar and in another moment he would have been safe in the garden and within easy reach of the house but before he actually touched the iron rail a sharp stinging pain shot across his back he drew one final breath as he felt himself being lifted lifted up into the air the horns had caught him just behind the shoulders there seemed to be no pain after the first shock he rose high into the air while the bushes and spiked railing he knew so well sank out of sight beneath him slowly in size at first he thought his head must bump against the sky but suddenly he stopped rising and the green earth rushed up as if it would strike him in the face this meant he was sinking again the gate and railing flew by underneath him and the next second he fell with a crash upon the soft grass of the lawn upon the other side he had been tossed over the gate into the garden and could no longer reach him before he became wholly unconscious a composite picture vivid in its detail engraved itself deeply with exceeding swiftness line by line upon the waxen tablets of his mind in this picture the thrush that had flown out of the ivy the empty house itself and its horrible pursuing inmate were all somehow curiously mingled together with the black wings of the ball and with his own sensation of rushing flying headlong through space as he rose and fell in a curve from the creature's horns and behind it he was conscious that the real author of it all was somewhere in the shadowy background looking on though to watch the result of her unfortunate mistake Miss Lake surely was not very far away he associated her with the horror of the empty house as inevitably as taste and smell joined together in the memory of a certain food and the very last thought in his mind as he sank away into the blackness of unconsciousness was a sort of bitter surprise that the governess had not turned up to save him before it was actually too late but a certain sense of disappointment mingled with the terror of the shock for he was dimly aware that Miss Lake had not acted as worthily as she might have done and had not played the game as well as she might have done and somehow it didn't all seem quite fair End of Chapter 3 Chapter 4 of Jimbo This is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Jimbo by Algernon Blackwood read by Adrian Pretzelis Chapter 4 On the Edge Jimbo had fallen on his head Inside that head lay the mass of highly sensitive matter called the brain on which were recorded of course the impressions of everything that had come to him in life A severe shock such as he had just sustained was bound to throw these impressions into confusion and disorder jumbling them into new and strange combination obliterating some and exaggerating others Jimbo himself was helpless in the matter he could exercise no control over their antics until the doctors had once again reduced them to order he would have to wonder lost and lonely through the comparative chaos of disproportioned visions being known as the region of delirium until the doctor assisted by mother nature restored him once more to normal consciousness for a time everything was a blank but presently he stirred uneasily in the grass and the pictures graven on the tablets of his mind began to come back to him line by line yet with certain changes the bull for instance had so far vanished into the background of his thoughts that it had practically disappeared altogether and he recalled nothing of it but the wings the huge flapping wings of the creature to whom the wings belonged he had no recollection beyond that it was very large and that it was chasing him from the empty house the pain in his shoulders had also gone but what remained with undiminished vividness were the sensations of flight without escape the breathless race up to the sky and the swift tumbling drop again through the air to the lawn this impression of rushing through space short though the actual distance had been was the dominating memory all else was apparently oblivion he forgot where he had come from and he forgot what he had been doing the events leading up to the catastrophe indeed everything connected with his existence previously as master James had entirely vanished and the slate of memory had been wiped so clean that he had forgotten even his own name Jimbo was lying so to speak on the edge of unconsciousness and for a time it seemed uncertain whether he would cross the line into the region of delirium and dreams or fall back again into his natural world Terra, assisted by the horns of the black bull, had tossed him into the borderland his last scream, however had reached the ears of the ubiquitous gardener and help was near at hand he heard voices that seemed to come from beyond the stars and was aware that shadowy forms were standing over him and talking in whispers but it was all very unreal one minute the voices sounded up in the sky and the next in his very ears while the figures moved about sometimes bending over him sometimes retreating and melting away like shadows in the shifting screen suddenly a blaze of light flashed upon him and his eyes flew open he tumbled back for a moment into his normal world he wasn't on the grass at all but was lying upon his own bed in the night nursery his mother was bending over him with a very white face a small man dressed in black stood beside her holding some kind of shining instrument in his fingers a little behind them he saw Nixie shading a lamp with her hand then the white face came close over the pillow and a voice full of tenderness whispered, my darling boy don't you know me it's mother no one will hurt you, speak to me if you can dear your hands and Jimbo knew her and made an effort to answer but it seemed to him as if his whole body had suddenly become a solid mass of iron and he could not move any part of it his lips and hands both refused to move before he could make a sign that he had understood and was trying to reply a fierce flame rushed between them and blinded him his eyes closed back again into utter darkness the walls flew asunder and the ceiling melted into air while the bed sank away beneath him down, down, down into an abyss of shadows the lamp Nixie's hands dwindled into a star and his mother's anxious face became a tiny patch of white in the distance blurred out of all semblance of a human countenance for a time the man in black seemed to hover over the bed as it sank as though he were trying to follow it down but it too presently joined the general enveloping blackness and lost its outline the pain had blotted out everything and the return to consciousness had been only momentary not all the doctors in the world could have made things otherwise Jimbo was off on his travels at last travels in which the chief incidents were directly traceable to the causes and details of his accident the terror of the empty house the pursuit of its inmate the pain of the bull's horns and above all the flight through the air for everything in his adventures found its inspiration in the events described and a singular parallel ran ever between Jimbo upon the bed in the night nursery and the other emancipated Jimbo wandering into the regions of unconsciousness and delirium end of chapter 4 chapter 5 of Jimbo this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Jimbo by Algernon Blackwood read by Adrian Pretzelis chapter 5 into the empty house the darkness lasted a long time without a break and when it lifted all recollection of the bedroom scene had vanished Jimbo found himself back again on the grass the swinging gate was just in front of him but he did not recognize it no suggestion of express trains came back to him as his eyes rested without remembrance upon the bars where he had so often swung in defiance of orders with his brothers and sisters recollection of his home family and previous life he had absolutely none or at least it was buried so deeply in his inner consciousness that it amounted to the same thing and he looked out upon the garden the gates and the field beyond as upon an entirely new piece of the world the stars he saw were nearly all gone and a very faint light was beginning to spread from the woods beyond the field the eastern horizon was slowly brightening and soon the night would be gone Jimbo was glad of this he began to be conscious of little thrills of expectation for with the light surely help would also come the light always brought relief and he already felt that strange excitement that comes with the first signs of dawn in the distance cocks were crowing horses began to stamp in the barns not far away and a hundred little stirrings of life ran over the surface of the earth as the light crept slowly up the sky and dropped down again upon the world with its message of coming day of course help would come by the time the sun was really up and it was partly this certainty and partly because he was a little too days to realise the seriousness of the situation that prevented his giving way to a fit of fear and weeping yet a feeling of vague terror lay only a little way below the surface and when a few moments later he saw that he was no longer alone and that an odd looking figure was creeping towards him from the shrubberies he sprang to his feet prepared to run unless it at once showed the most friendly intentions the figure seemed to have come from nowhere apparently it had risen out of the earth it was too large to have been concealed by the low shrubberies yet he had not been aware of its approach and it had come without making any noise probably it was friendly he felt in spite of its curious shape and the stealthy way it had come at least he hoped so he could only have told whether it was a man or an animal he would easily have made up his mind but the uncertain light and the way it crouched half hidden behind the bushes prevented this so he stood poised ready to run and yet waiting hoping indeed expecting every minute a sign of friendliness and help in this way the two faced each other silently for some time until the feeling of terror gradually stole deeper into the boy's heart and began to rob him of full power over his muscles he wondered if he would be able to run when the time came and whether he could run fast enough this was how it first showed itself this suggestion of insidious fear would he be able to keep up the start he had would it chase him would it run like a man or like an animal on four legs or two he wished he could see more clearly what it was he still stood his ground pluckily facing it and waiting but the fear once admitted to his mind was gaining strength and he began to feel cold and shivery then suddenly the tension came to an end in two strides the figure came up close to his side and the same second Jimbo was lifted off his feet and born swiftly away across the field he felt quite unable to offer the least resistance and at the same time he felt a sort of relief that something had happened at last he was still not sure that the figure was unkind only its shape filled him with a feeling that was certainly the beginning of a real horror it was in the shape of a man he thought but of a very large and ill constructed man but it certainly had moved on two legs and had caught him up in a pair of tremendously strong arms but there was something else it had besides arms for a kind of soft cloak hung all around it and wrapped the boy from head to foot preventing him seeing his captive properly and at the same time filling his body with a kind of warm drowsiness that mitigated his active fear and made him rather like the sensation of being carried along so easily and so fast but was he being carried? the pace they were going was amazing and he moved as easily as a sailing boat and with the same swinging motion could it be some animal like a horse after all? Jimbo tried to seem more but found it impossible to free himself from the folds of the enveloping substance and meanwhile they were swinging forward at what seemed a tremendous pace in the fields and ditches through hedges and down long lanes the odours of earth and dew drenched grass and opening flowers came to him he heard the birds singing and felt the cool morning air sting his cheeks as they raced along there was no jolting or jarring and the figure seemed to cover the ground as lightly as though it hardly touched the earth it was certainly not a dream he was sure of that but the longer they went on the drowsier he became and the less he wondered whether the figure was going to help him or to do something dreadful to him he was now thoroughly afraid and yet, strange contradiction he didn't care a bit let the figure do what it liked it was only a sort of nightmare person after all and might vanish as suddenly as it had arrived for a long time they dashed forward at this great speed and then with a bump and a crash they stopped suddenly short and Jimbo found himself let down upon the solid earth he tried to free himself once from the folds of the clinging substance that enveloped him but before he could do so and see what his captor was really like he heard a door slam and felt himself pushed along what seemed to be the hallway of a house his eyes were clear now and he could see but the darkness thickly that all he could discover was that the figure was urging him along the floor of a large empty hall and that they were in a dark and empty building Jimbo tried hard to see his captor but the figure dim enough in the uncertain light always managed to hide its face and keep itself bunched up in such a way that he could never see more than a great dark mass of a body from which long legs and arms shot out like telescopes draped in a sort of clinging cloak now that the rapid motion through the air had ceased the boy's drowsiness passed a little and he began to shiver with fear and to fear that the tears could not be kept back much longer probably in another minute he would have started to run for his life when a new sound caught his ears and made him listen intently while a feeling of wonder and delight caught his heart and made him momentarily forget the figure pushing him forward from behind was it the wind he heard or was it the voices of children all singing together very low it was a gentle sighing sound that rose and fell with mournful modulations and seemed to come from the very center of the building it held to a strange far away murmur like the surge of a faint breeze moving in the treetops it might be the wind playing round the walls of the building or it might be children singing in hushed voices one minute he thought it was outside the house and the next he was certain it came from somewhere in the upper part of the building he glanced up and fancied for one moment that he saw in the darkness a crowd of little faces peering down at him over the banisters but as they disappeared he heard the sound of many little feet moving and then a door hurriedly closing but a push from the figure behind that nearly sent him sprawling on the foot of the stairs prevented his hearing very clearly and the light was far too dim to let him feel sure of what he had seen they passed quickly along deserted corridors and through winding passages no one seemed about the interior of the house was chilly and the keen air nipped after going up several flights of stairs they stopped at last in front of a door and before Jimbo had a moment to turn and dash upstairs again past the figure as he had meant to do he was pushed violently forward into a room the door slammed after him and he heard the heavy tread of the figure as it went down the staircase again into the bottom of the house then he saw that the room was full of light and of small moving beings curiosity and astonishment now for a moment took the place of fear and Jimbo with a thumping heart and clenched fists stood and stared at the scene before him he stiffened his little legs and leaned against the wall for support but he felt full of fight in case anything happened and with wide open eyes he tried to take in the whole scene at once and be ready for whatever might come but there seemed no immediate cause for alarm and when he realized that the beings in the room were apparently children and only children his rather mixed sensations of astonishment and fear gave place to an emotion of overpowering shyness he became exceedingly embarrassed for he was surrounded by children of all ages and sizes staring at him dressed as hard as he was staring at them the children he began to take in were all dressed in black they looked frightened and unhappy their bodies were thin and their faces very white there was something else about them he could not quite name but it inspired him with the same sense of horror that he felt in the arms of the figure who had trapped him for he now realized definitely that he had been trapped he began to realize for the first time that who he still had the body of little boy his way of thinking and judging was sometimes more like that of a grown up person the two alternated and the result was an odd confusion for sometimes he felt like a child and thought like a man while at others he felt like a man and thought like a child something had gone wrong very much wrong and as he watched this group of silent children facing him he knew suddenly that what was just beginning to happen to him had happened to them long, long ago for they looked as if they had been a long, long time in the world but their bodies had not kept pace with their minds something had happened to stop the growth of the body while allowing the mind to go on developing the bodies were not stunted or deformed nice little children's bodies but the minds within them were grown up and the incongruity was distressing all this he suddenly realized in a flash intuitively just as though it had been most elaborately explained to him yet he could not have put the least part of it into words or have explained what he saw and felt to another he saw that they had the hands and figures of children the heads of children the unlined faces and smooth foreheads of children but their gestures and something in their movements belonged to grown up people and the expression of their eyes in meaning and intelligence was the expression of old people and not of children and the expression in the eyes of every one of them he saw was the expression of terror and of pain so singular that he seemed face to face with an entirely new order of creatures a child's features with a man's eyes a child's figure with a woman's movements full grown souls cramped and cribbed in absurdly inadequate bodies and little puny frames the old trying uncouthly to express itself in the young the grown up old portion almost as he stared and received these impressions but now suddenly it passed away and he felt as a little boy again he glanced quickly down at his own little body in the alpaca knickerbockers and sailor blouse and then with a sigh of relief looked up again at the strange group facing him so far at any rate he had not changed and there was nothing yet to suggest that he was becoming like them in appearance at least with his back against the door he faced the room full of children who stood there motionless and staring and as he looked wild feelings rushed over him and made him tremble who was he where had he come from where in the world had he spent the other years of his life the forgotten years there seemed to be no one to whom he could go for comfort no one to ask questions and there was such a lot he wanted to ask he seemed to be so much older and to know so much more than he ought to have known and yet to have forgotten so much that he ought not to have forgotten his loss of memory however was of course only partial he had forgotten his own identity and all the people with whom he had so far in life had to do yet at the same time he was dimly conscious that he had just left all these people and that someday he would find them again it was only the surface layers of memory that had vanished and these had not vanished forever but only sunk down a little below the horizon then presently the children began to range themselves in rows between him and the opposite wall without once taking their horrible intelligent eyes off him as they moved he watched them with growing dread but at last his curiosity became so strong that it overcame everything else and in a voice that he meant to be very brave but that sounded hardly above a whisper he said who are you and what's been done to you the answer came at once in a whisper as low as his own though he could not distinguish who spoke listen and you shall know you too are now one of us immediately the children began a slow, impish sort of dance before him moving with almost silent feet over the boards yet with a sedateness and formality that had none of the unconscious grace of children and as they danced they sang but in voices so low that it was more like the mournful sighing of wind among branches than human voices but it was the sound he had already heard outside the building we are the children of the whispering night we live eternally in dreadful fright of stories told us in the grey twilight by nursery maids we are the children of our winter's day under our breath we chant this mournful lay we dance with phantoms and with shadows play and have no rest we have no joy in any children's game for happiness in us is but a name since terror kissed us with his lips of flame in wicked jest we hear the little voices in the wind singing of freedom we may never find victims of fate so cruelly unkind we are unblessed we hear the little footsteps in the rain running to help us though they run in vain tapping in hundreds on the window pain in vain we are the children of the whispering night who dwell and rescued in eternal fright of stories told us in dim twilight by nursery maids the song and the plaintive dance ceased together and before Jimbo could find any words to clothe even one of the thoughts that crowded through his mind he saw them moving towards a door he had not hitherto noticed a moment later they had opened it and passed out sedate mournful unharried and the boy found that in some way he could not understand the light had gone with them and he was standing with his back against the wall in almost total darkness once out of the room no sound followed them and he crossed over and tried the handle of the door it was locked then he went back and tried the other door he was locked he was shut in there was no longer any doubt as to the figure's intentions he was a prisoner trapped like an animal in a cage the only thought in his mind just then was an intense desire for freedom whatever happened he must escape he crossed the floor to the only window in the room it was without blinds and he looked out coiled with a fresh and overpowering sense of helplessness for it was three stories from the ground and down below in the shadows he saw a paved courtyard that rendered jumping utterly out of the question he stood for a long time fighting down the tears and staring as if his heart would break at the field and trees beyond a high wall enclosed the yard and beyond that was freedom a place feelings of loneliness and helplessness terror and dismay overwhelmed him his eyes burned and smarted yet strange to say the tears now refused to come and bring him relief he could only stand there with his elbows on the window sill and watch the outline of the trees and hedges grow clearer and clearer as the light grew across the sky and the moment of sunrise came close but when at last he turned back into the room he saw that he was no longer alone crouching against the opposite wall there was a hooded figure steadily watching him End of chapter 5 Chapter 6 of Jimbo This is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer visit LibriVox.org Jimbo by Algernon Blackwood read by Adrian Pretzelis Chapter 6 His Prison Friend Shocks of terror as they increase in number apparently lessen in effect the repeated calls made upon Jimbo's soul by the emotions of fear and astonishment had numbed it otherwise the knowledge that he was locked in the room with this mysterious creature beyond all possibility of escape must have frightened him as the saying is out of his skin as it was however he kept his head in a wonderful manner and simply stared at the silent intruder as hard as ever he could stare how in the world had it got in was the principal thought in his mind and after that the world was it the dawn must have come very swiftly or else he had been staring longer than he knew for just then the sun topped the edge of the world and the windowsill simultaneously and sent a welcome ray of sunshine into the dingy room it turned the gray light into silver and fell full upon the huddled figure crouching against the opposite wall Jimbo caught his breath and stared harder than ever it was a human figure the figure apparently of a man sitting crumpled up in a very uncomfortable sort of position on his haunches it sat perfectly still a black cloak with loose sleeves and a cowl or hood that completely concealed the face covered it from head to foot the material of the cloak could not have been very thick for inside the hood he caught the gleam of eyes as they roamed about the room and followed his movements but for this glitter of the moving eyes it might have been a figure carved in wood was it going to sit there forever watching him at first he was afraid it was going to speak then he was afraid it wasn't it might rise suddenly then he came towards him yet the thought that it would not move at all was worse still in this way the two faced each other for several minutes until just as the position was becoming simply unbearable a low whisper ran round the room at last oh I found him at last Jimbo was not quite sure of the words though it was certainly a human voice that had spoken but the suspense once broken the boy could not stand it any longer and with a rush of desperate courage he found his voice a very husky one and moved a step forward who are you please and how did you get in he ventured with a great effort then he fell back against the wall amazed at his own daring and waited with tightly clenched fists but he did not wait very long for almost immediately the figure rose awkwardly to its feet and came over to where he stood its manner of moving may best be described as shuffling and it stretched in front of it a long cloaked arm on which the sleeve hung he thought like clothes on a washing line he breathed hard and waited people with strong wills and sensitive nerves Jimbo was both brave and a coward he hoped nothing horrible was going to happen but he was quite ready if it should yet now that the actual moment had come he had no particular fear and when he felt the touch of the hand on his shoulder the words sprang naturally to his lips with a little trembling laugh more of wonder perhaps than anything else you do look like a horrid brute he was going to say but at the last moment he changed it to thing for with the true intuition of a child he recognized that the creature inside the cloak was a kind creature and well disposed towards him but how did you get in he added looking up bravely into the black visage because the doors are both locked on the outside and I couldn't get out by way of reply the figure shuffled to one side and taking the hand from his shoulder pointed silently to a trap door in the floor behind him as he looked he saw it was being shut down stealthily by someone beneath hush whispered the figure almost inaudibly he's watching Jimbo cried curiosity taking the place of every other emotion I want to see he ran forward to the spot where the trap door now lay flush with the floor but before he had gone two steps the black arm shot out and caught him he turned struggling and in the scuffle that followed the cloak shrouding the figure became disarranged the hood dropped from the face and he found himself looking straight into the eyes not of a man but of a woman it's you he cried you a shock ran right through his body from his head to his feet like a current of electricity and he caught his breath as though he had been struck for one brief instant the sinister face of someone who had terrified him in the past came back vividly to his mind and he shrank away in terror but it was only for an instant the 20th part of an instant immediately before he could even remember the name recognition passed into darkness and his memory shut down with a snap he was staring in the face of an utter stranger about whom he knew nothing and had no feelings particularly one way or another I thought I knew you he gasped but I've forgotten you again and I thought you were going to be a man too Jimbo cried the other and in her voice was such unmistakable tenderness and yearning that the boy knew at once beyond doubt that she was his friend Jimbo she knelt down on the floor beside him so that her face was on a level with his then opened both her arms to him but though Jimbo was glad to have found a friend who was going to help him he felt no particular desire to be embraced and he stood obstinately where he was with his back to the window the morning sunshine fell upon her features and touched the thick coils of her hair with glory it was not strictly speaking a pretty face but the look of real human tenderness there was very expressive and comforting and in the light brown eyes there shone a strange light that was not merely the reflection of sunlight Jimbo felt his heart warm to her as he looked but her expression puzzled him and he would not accept the invitation of her arms won't you come to me? she said, her arms still outstretched I want to know who you are what are you doing here? he said I feel so funny, so old and so young and all mixed up I can't make out who I am a bit what's that funny name you call me Jimbo is your name she said softly then what's your name? he asked quickly my name she repeated slowly after a pause is not as nice as yours besides you need not know my name you might dislike it but I must have something to call you he persisted but if I told you and you dislike the name you might dislike me too she said still hesitating Jimbo saw the expression of sadness in her eyes and it won his confidence though he hardly knew why he came up closer to her and put his puzzled little face to hers I like you very much already he whispered and if your name is a horrid one I'll change it for you at once please tell me what it is she drew the boy to her and gave him a little hug and he did not resist for a long time she did not answer he felt vaguely that something of dreadful importance hung about this revelation of her name he repeated his question and at length she replied speaking in a very low voice and with her eyes fixed intently upon his face my name she said is Ethel Lake Ethel Lake he repeated after her the word sounded somehow familiar to him surely he had heard that name before were not the words associated with something in his past that had been unpleasant a curious sinking sensation came over him as he heard them his companion watched him intently while he repeated the words over to himself several times as if to make sure he had got them right there was a moment's hesitation as he slowly went over them once again then he turned to her laughing I like your name Ethel Lake he said it's a nice name miss again he hesitated while a little warning tremor ran through his mind and he wondered for an instant why he said miss but it passed as suddenly as it had come and he finished the sentence Miss Lake I shall call you he stared into her eyes as he said it then you don't remember me at all she cried with a sigh of intense relief you've quite forgotten I never saw you before did I how can I remember you I don't remember any of the things I've forgotten are you one of them for reply she caught him to her breast and kissed him you precious boy she said I'm so glad oh so glad but do you remember me he asked sorely puzzled who I am or something funny like that if you don't remember me said the other her face happy with smiles that had evidently come only just in time to prevent tears there's not much good telling you who you are but your name if you really want to know is she hesitated a moment be quick Eth Miss Lake or you'll forget it again she laughed rather bitterly oh I'll never forget I can't I wish I could your name is James Stone and Jimbo is short for James now you know she might just as well have said Bill Sykes for all the boy knew or remembered what a silly name he laughed but it can't be my real name or I should know it I never heard it before after a moment he added am I an old man I feel just like one I suppose I'm grown up grown up so fast that I've forgotten what came before you're not grown up dear at least not exactly she glanced down at his alpaca knickerbockers and brown stockings and as he followed her eyes and saw the dirty button boots they came into his mind some dim memory of where he had last put them on who had helped him but it all passed like a swift meteor across the dark night of his forgetfulness and was lost in mist you mustn't judge by these silly clothes he laughed I shall change them as soon as I get as soon as I can find he stopped short no words came a feeling of utter loneliness and despair swept suddenly over him pushing him from head to foot he felt lost and friendless naked, homeless cold he was ever on the brink of regaining a quantity of knowledge and experience that he had known once long ago ever so long ago but it was always just out of his reach he glanced at Miss Lake feeling that she was his only possible comfort in a terrible situation she met his look and drew him tenderly towards her now listen to me she said gently I've something to tell you about myself he was all attention in a minute I'm a discharged governess she began holding her breath when once the words were out discharged he repeated vaguely what's that what for frightening a child I told a little boy awful stories that weren't true they terrified him so much that I was sent away that's why I'm here now it's my punishment I'm a prisoner here until I can find him and help him escape oh, I say he exclaimed quickly as though remembering something but it passed and he looked up at her half bored half politely escape from what he asked from here this is the empty house I told the stories about and you are the little boy I frightened now at last I found you and I am going to save you she paused watching him with eyes that never left his face for an instant Jimbo was delighted to hear that he was going to be rescued but he felt no interest at all in her story of having frightened a little boy who was himself he thought it was very nice of her to take so much trouble and he told her so and when he went up and kissed her and thanked her he saw to his surprise that she was crying for the life of him he could not understand why a discharged governess whom he met apparently for the first time in the empty house should weep over him so much affection but he could think of nothing to say so he just waited till she had finished you see if I can save you she said between her sobs it will be all right again and I shall be forgiven and she'll be able to escape with you I want you to escape so that you can get back to life again oh then I am dead am I not exactly dead drawing her eyes with the corner of her black hood you've had a funny accident you know if your body gets all right so that you can go back and live in it again then you're not dead but if it's so badly injured that you can't work in it anymore then you are dead and will have to stay dead you're still joined to the body in a fashion you see he stared and listened not understanding much all bored him she talked without explaining he thought an immense sponge had passed over the slate of the past and wiped it clean beyond recall he was utterly perplexed how funny you are he said vaguely thinking more of her tears than her explanations water won't stay in a cracked bottle she went on and you can't stay in a broken body trying to mend it now and if we can escape in time you can be an ordinary happy little boy in the world again then are you dead too he asked or nearly dead I am out of my body like you she answered evasively after a moment's pause he was still looking at her in a dazed sort of way when she suddenly sprang to her feet and let the hood drop back over her face hush! she whispered he's listening again at the same moment a sound came from beneath the floor on the other side of the room and Jimbo saw the trapdoor being slowly raised above the level of the floor your number is 102 said a voice that sounded like the rushing of a river instantly the trapdoor dropped again and he heard heavy steps rumbling away from the interior of the house he looked at his companion and saw her terrified face as she lifted her hood he always blunders along like that she whispered bending her head on one side to listen he can't see properly in the daylight he hates sunshine and usually only goes out after dark she was white and trembling is that the person who brought me in here this morning at such a frightful pace he asked bewildered she nodded he wanted to get in before it was light so that you couldn't see his face is he such a fright asked the boy beginning to share her evident feeling of horror he is fright she said in an odd whisper but never talk about him again unless you can't help it he always knows when he's being talked about and he likes it because it gives him more power Jimbo only stared at her without comprehending then his mind jumped to something else he wanted badly to have explained and he asked her about this number and why he was called number 102 oh that's easy she said 102 is your number among the frightened children there are 101 of them and you are the last arrival haven't you seen them yet it is also the temperature of your broken little body lying on the bed in the night nursery at home she added though he hardly caught her words so low were they spoken Jimbo then described how the children had sung and danced to him and went on to ask a hundred questions about them but Miss Lake would give him very little information and said he would not have very much to do with them most of them had been in the house for years and years so long that they could probably never escape at all they are all frightened children she said little ones scared out of their wits by silly people who meant to amuse them with stories or to frighten them into being well behaved nursery maids daughters and even governesses and can they never escape not unless the people who frightened them come to their rescue and run the risk of being caught themselves as she spoke there rose from the depths of the house the sound of muffled voices children's voices singing faintly together it rose and fell exactly like the wind and with as little tune it was weird and magical but so utterly mournful that the boy felt the tears start to his eyes it drifted away too just as the wind does over the tops of the trees dying into the distance and all became still again it's just like the wind he said and I do love the wind it makes me feel so sad and so happy why is it? the governess did not answer how old am I really? he went on how can I be so old and so ignorant I've forgotten such an awful lot of knowledge the fact is well perhaps you won't quite understand but you're really two ages at once sometimes you feel as old as your body and sometimes as old as your soul they're still connected with your body so you get the sensations of both mixed up then is the body younger than the soul? the soul that is yourself she answered is oh so old awfully old as old as the stars and older but the body is no older than itself of course how could it be? of course the boy who was not listening to a word she said how could it be? but it doesn't matter how old you are or how young you feel as long as you don't hate me for having frightened you she said after a pause that's the chief thing he was very very puzzled he could not help feeling that it had been rather unkind of her to frighten him so badly that he had literally been frightened out of his skin but he couldn't remember anything about it and she was taking so much trouble to save him now that he quite forgave her he nestled up against her and said of course he liked her and she stroked his curly head and mumbled a lot of things to herself that he couldn't understand a bit but in spite of his new found friend the feeling of over mastering loneliness would suddenly rush over him she might be a protector but she was not a real companion he knew that somewhere or other he had left a lot of other real companions whom he now missed dreadfully he longed more than he could say for freedom he wanted to be able to come and go as he pleased to play about in a garden somewhere as of old to wander over soft green lawns among labyrinems and sweet smelling lilac trees and to be up to all his old tricks and mischief though he could not remember in detail what they were in a word he wanted to escape his whole being yearned to escape and to be free again yet here he was a wretched prisoner in a room like a prison cell with a sort of monster for a keeper and a troop of horrible frightened children somewhere else in the house to keep him company and outside only a hard narrow paved courtyard with a high wall around it oh it was too terrible to think of and his heart sank down within him till he felt as if he could do nothing else but cry I shall save you in time whispered the governess as if she had read his thoughts you must be patient and do what I tell you and I promise to get you out only be brave and don't ask too many questions we shall win in the end and escape suddenly he looked up with quite a new expression on his face but I say Miss Cake I'm frightfully hungry I've had nothing to eat since I can't remember when but ever so long you needn't call me Miss Cake though she laughed I suppose it's because I'm so hungry then you'll call me Miss Lake when you're thirsty perhaps she said but anyhow I'll see what I can get you only you must eat as little as possible I want you to get very thin what you feel is not really hunger it's only a memory of hunger and you'll soon get used to it he stared at her with a very distressed little face as she crossed the room making this new announcement and just as she disappeared through the trap door only her head being visible she added with great emphasis the thinner you get the better because the thinner you are the lighter you are and the lighter you are the easier it will be to escape remember the thinner the better the lighter the better and don't ask a lot of questions about it and with that the trap door closed over her and Jimbo was left alone with her last strange words ringing in his ears End of Chapter 6