THE LITTLE BLACK GIRL AND JULIUS CAESAR
A great city swept away by the sea, a beautiful country devastated by an active volcano--these are not the sort of things you see every day of the week. And when you do see them, no matter how many other wonders you may have seen in your time, such sights are rather apt to take your breath away. Atlantis had certainly this effect on the breaths of Cyril, Robert, Anthea, and Jane.
They remained in a breathless state for some days. The learned gentleman seemed as breathless as anyone; he spent a good deal of what little breath he had in telling Anthea about a wonderful dream he had. 'You would hardly believe,' he said, 'that anyone COULD have such a detailed vision.'
But Anthea could believe it, she said, quite easily.
He had ceased to talk about thought-transference. He had now seen too many wonders to believe that.
In consequence of their breathless condition none of the children suggested any new excursions through the Amulet. Robert voiced the mood of the others when he said that they were 'fed up' with Amulet for a bit. They undoubtedly were.
As for the Psammead, it went to sand and stayed there, worn out by the terror of the flood and the violent exercise it had had to take in obedience to the inconsiderate wishes of the learned gentleman and the Babylonian queen.
The children let it sleep. The danger of taking it about among strange people who might at any moment utter undesirable wishes was becoming more and more plain.
And there are pleasant things to be done in London without any aid from Amulets or Psammeads. You can, for instance visit the Tower of London, the Houses of Parliament, the National Gallery, the Zoological Gardens, the various Parks, the Museums at South Kensington, Madame Tussaud's Exhibition of Waxworks, or the Botanical Gardens at Kew. You can go to Kew by river steamer--and this is the way that the children would have gone if they had gone at all. Only they never did, because it was when they were discussing the arrangements for the journey, and what they should take with them to eat and how much of it, and what the whole thing would cost, that the adventure of the Little Black Girl began to happen.
The children were sitting on a seat in St James's Park. They had been watching the pelican repulsing with careful dignity the advances of the seagulls who are always so anxious to play games with it. The pelican thinks, very properly, that it hasn't the figure for games, so it spends most of its time pretending that that is not the reason why it won't play.
The breathlessness caused by Atlantis was wearing off a little.
Cyril, who always wanted to understand all about everything, was turning things over in his mind.
'I'm not; I'm only thinking,' he answered when Robert asked him what he was so grumpy about. 'I'll tell you when I've thought it all out.'
'If it's about the Amulet I don't want to hear it,' said Jane.
'Nobody asked you to,' retorted Cyril mildly, 'and I haven't finished my inside thinking about it yet. Let's go to Kew in the meantime.'
'I'd rather go in a steamer,' said Robert; and the girls laughed.
'That's right,' said Cyril, 'BE funny. I would.'
'Well, he was, rather,' said Anthea.
'I wouldn't think, Squirrel, if it hurts you so,' said Robert kindly.
'Oh, shut up,' said Cyril, 'or else talk about Kew.'
'I want to see the palms there,' said Anthea hastily, 'to see if they're anything like the ones on the island where we united the Cook and the Burglar by the Reverend Half-Curate.'
All disagreeableness was swept away in a pleasant tide of recollections, and 'Do you remember ...?' they said. 'Have you forgotten ...?'
'My hat!' remarked Cyril pensively, as the flood of reminiscence ebbed a little; 'we have had some times.'
'We have that,' said Robert.
'Don't let's have any more,' said Jane anxiously.
'That's what I was thinking about,' Cyril replied; and just then they heard the Little Black Girl sniff. She was quite close to them.
She was not really a little black girl. She was shabby and not very clean, and she had been crying so much that you could hardly see, through the narrow chink between her swollen lids, how very blue her eyes were. It was her dress that was black, and it was too big and too long for her, and she wore a speckled black-ribboned sailor hat that would have fitted a much bigger head than her little flaxen one. And she stood looking at the children and sniffing.
'Oh, dear!' said Anthea, jumping up. 'Whatever is the matter?'
She put her hand on the little girl's arm. It was rudely shaken off.
'You leave me be,' said the little girl. 'I ain't doing nothing to you.'
'But what is it?' Anthea asked. 'Has someone been hurting you?'
'What's that to you?' said the little girl fiercely. 'YOU'RE all right.'
'Come away,' said Robert, pulling at Anthea's sleeve. 'She's a nasty, rude little kid.'
'Oh, no,' said Anthea. 'She's only dreadfully unhappy. What is it?' she asked again.
'Oh, YOU'RE all right,' the child repeated; 'YOU ain't agoin' to the Union.'
'Can't we take you home?' said Anthea; and Jane added, 'Where does your mother live?'
'She don't live nowheres--she's dead--so now!' said the little girl fiercely, in tones of miserable triumph. Then she opened her swollen eyes widely, stamped her foot in fury, and ran away.
She ran no further than to the next bench, flung herself down there and began to cry without even trying not to.
Anthea, quite at once, went to the little girl and put her arms as tight as she could round the hunched-up black figure.
'Oh, don't cry so, dear, don't, don't!' she whispered under the brim of the large sailor hat, now very crooked indeed. 'Tell Anthea all about it; Anthea'll help you. There, there, dear, don't cry.'
The others stood at a distance. One or two passers-by stared curiously.
The child was now only crying part of the time; the rest of the time she seemed to be talking to Anthea.
Presently Anthea beckoned Cyril.
