Fairies -- Fiction; Great Britain -- History -- Edward VII, 1901-1910 -- Fiction; Siblings -- Fiction; Wishes -- Fiction
As Anthea was crossing the courtyard for more stones, a sudden and
valuable idea came to her. She went to Martha and said, 'May we
have just biscuits for tea? We're going to play at besieged
castles, and we'd like the biscuits to provision the garrison. Put
mine in my pocket, please, my hands are so dirty. And I'll tell
the others to fetch theirs.'
This was indeed a happy thought, for now with four generous
handfuls of air, which turned to biscuit as Martha crammed it into
their pockets, the garrison was well provisioned till sundown.
They brought up some iron pots of cold water to pour on the
besiegers instead of hot lead, with which the castle did not seem
to be provided.
The afternoon passed with wonderful quickness. It was very
exciting; but none of them, except Robert, could feel all the time
that this was real deadly dangerous work. To the others, who had
only seen the camp and the besiegers from a distance, the whole
thing seemed half a game of make-believe, and half a splendidly
distinct and perfectly safe dream. But it was only now and then
that Robert could feel this.
When it seemed to be tea-time the biscuits were eaten with water
from the deep well in the courtyard, drunk out of horns. Cyril
insisted on putting by eight of the biscuits, in case anyone should
feel faint in stress of battle.
just as he was putting away the reserve biscuits in a sort of
little stone cupboard without a door, a sudden sound made him drop
three. It was the loud fierce cry of a trumpet.
'You see it IS real,' said Robert, 'and they are going to attack.'
All rushed to the narrow windows.
'Yes,' said Robert, 'they're all coming out of their tents and
moving about like ants. There's that Jakin dancing about where the
bridge joins on. I wish he could see me put my tongue out at him!
Yah!'
The others were far too pale to wish to put their tongues out at
anybody. They looked at Robert with surprised respect. Anthea
said:
'You really ARE brave, Robert.'
'Rot!' Cyril's pallor turned to redness now, all in a minute.
'He's been getting ready to be brave all the afternoon. And I
wasn't ready, that's all. I shall be braver than he is in half a
jiffy.'
'Oh dear!' said Jane, 'what does it matter which of
you is the bravest? I think Cyril was a perfect silly to wish for
a castle, and I don't want to play.'
'It ISN'T' - Robert was beginning sternly, but Anthea
interrupted -
'Oh yes, you do,' she said coaxingly; 'it's a very nice game,
really, because they can't possibly get in, and if they do the
women and children are always spared by civilized armies.'
'But are you quite, quite sure they ARE civilized?' asked Jane,
panting. 'They seem to be such a long time ago.'
'Of course they are.' Anthea pointed cheerfully through the narrow
window. 'Why, look at the little flags on their lances, how bright
they are - and how fine the leader is! Look, that's him - isn't
it, Robert? - on the grey horse.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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