by Algernon Blackwood (1928)
Little Lady Rose was always sorry when her parents left the country and came up to the big London house for what they called the Season. She liked their own woods and gardens much better than Hyde Park or Kensington Gardens, where the formal flower-beds seemed less wonderful than the primroses and anemones that blew wild at home. She missed her friend Basseker as well.
Basseker was Head Gardener. He had been in the family's service long before she was born, and his knowledge of flowers and shrubs, of everything that grew in the earth, was very great indeed. It was "instinctive," apparently, whatever that might mean. "His instinct for the soil," she once heard her father say, "is really quite astonishing. I believe the fellow was born underground among the roots!" He laughed as he said it, but the idea of living underground made a deep impression upon little Lady Rose's imagination.
Basseker was a big, broad, powerful man, with a rumbling booming voice that rose from his boots. A thick, brown, bushy beard covered his mouth so that his lips might have been anywhere. The tangle of hair ran like a jungle all over his face. She thought of him as a great, delicious, earthy being that made things grow. A smell of ripe apples, bast and potting-sheds hung about him. She had an idea that he was once clean-shaven, but had fallen asleep on Midsummer's Night and waked next morning with this dense growth all over his chin and cheeks. It had come out of the rich black earth he loved.
He was a very gentle giant in spite of his alarming voice. He shared all the mysteries of the garden with her. They were very great friends. She longed to ask him if he really lived underground, but could never quite screw her courage up to the point. It seemed rather an impertinent question.
"We're going to London next week, Basseker," she now informed him. "Mother wants the Season, you know. You'll keep everything growing while we're away, won't you?"
"Oh yes, Missie," rolled the deep voice — Basseker never called her "your ladyship" — "and I'll be bringing up some flowers for the big Parties sometimes, maybe."
"Then I shall see you, Basseker!" and she clapped her hands. "That's lovely. I shall be in London all the Season, I'm afraid, you see."
The great Head Gardener smiled, so that the jungle all over his face moved like a cornfield in the wind.
"I hope so, Missie," he growled affectionately. And I hope," he added, "to go and see my old mother. She lives in London too."
"Oh, where, Basseker?"
"Over Elephant and Castle way, Missie — if I can get there."
Little Lady Rose's eyes grew bigger. The name, which she had never heard before, enchanted her.
"Does she live in a castle? And has she got an elephant?" she asked breathlessly. "But how — wonderful, Basseker!"
The jungle waved about again as the big fellow smiled. He hardly knew what to say at first, it seemed.
"She is wonderful, Missie, indeed she is. She's ninety four this coming June." He hesitated a moment. If his lordship'd allow it — I'd like to show her to you. The sight of you, Missie, would do her a power o' good."
Rose stared up into the great bushy face. Her mind was working rapidly. Whether her father allowed it or not, she decided to go.
"It might make her grow, you mean?" she whispered.
"There's no knowing Missie," rumbled the invisible mouth.
"And how do you get there? Is it far?"
Gazing down into the little upturned face, he told her:
"Underground, Missie — that's the way I generally go." The deep voice boomed, the tangled hair moved again in rippling waves.
"Oh! Oh!" cried Lady Rose, her eyes bigger than ever, her excitement too great for a hundred questions she burned to ask. And before she could find her voice again, Basseker had moved away. "I must be getting along," he explained, "or my things'll forget to grow." He placed a great earth-stained finger against the jungle that hid his lips to enjoin secrecy, and a moment later had disappeared among the lilac trees.
"Elephant and Castle!" she repeated under her breath, too thrilled to do more than whisper. "And he goes underground to get there! Elephant … Castle … Underground …!"
The words ran singing in her mind for days.
It was a month later, June blazing in the sky, when from an upper landing she caught sight of Basseker far below among the passages of the great London mansion. He looked the same as usual, except that he wore a white collar and rather tidy clothes. Even before she saw him the scent of apples and potting-sheds had reached her nostrils.
The bed-time hour had come, but Lady Rose was too excited to lie in bed waiting for her mother. She had crept out in her red dressing-gown to have a peep. For there was a big Dinner Party and Ball that night, and the house was in commotion. Basseker, she realised, had brought up the flowers for the decorations. He was frightfully busy, of course, far too busy for her to get a word with him. Besides, he could not even see her on that high upper landing. But other people were busy too, far too busy to pay her attention as usual. Parents, servants, nurses, all were in something of a flutter, seeing to the last details of the great Entertainment to which hundreds of people were coming. Rose, to her keen joy, was neglected rather.
Her mother came rustling along the passage at length, breathless, her eyes shining, and kissed her good-night as usual, then tucked her up in bed and left the room, closing the door softly.
"Now, Rosie, get to sleep quickly," was her last remark, "and I'll tell you all about it in the morning," as the child snuggled down among the sheets. She heard her mother's silken skirts go swishing down the corridor, then die away.
The house grew still, the darkness covered her, the excitement from the lower floors of the big house did not penetrate to this upper region where the Night Nursery was. Little Lady Rose closed her eyes, drew the blankets up to her cheek, and prepared to fall asleep. Through the window, open at the top, stole in the sweet night air of June. Her breathing became slow, deep, regular
With the sweet June air, it seemed, something else presently came stealing in — a faint scent of ripe apples, of bast, of potting-sheds, of earth. It was a delicate, delicious mixture, very fragrant. Her dream shifted queerly towards Basseker, the great Head Gardener. It began to play with him, the giant figure that made things grow. She saw his bushy beard, his kindly face, his slow, swaying walk; she heard his deep, earthquakey voice. She realised adventure was about. Ideas of a mighty elephant, a towering castle, shot past her. They were underground somewhere. She was hunting for them, hunting for the way. She could not find it.
A sound like wind rustling in the branches of a tree was wafted across the still darkness of the room:
"Are you ready, Missie?"
She opened her eyes. She stared. She listened. Against the window, where the faint light of the stars peeped in, she saw the outline of broad shoulders and a great bushy head. She recognised the massive bulk of Basseker. He was right inside the room, not ten feet away.
"Basseker …!" she whispered, now wide awake, unable to believe her eyes.
"Time we were off, Missie," came the deep whispered answer.
Lady Rose sprang out of bed. In a second she was in her red dressing-gown.
"You're going --?" she squeezed out in a breathless whisper, too excited to manage more.
"With you," rolled the boom of his quiet voice
"Me!" she squeaked, feverishly thrusting a foot into the sleeve of her dressing-gown in her amazement.
"It's close on midnight," he growled. Time to start!"
Was it naughty, she asked herself? Was it being disobedient? The temptation was irresistible. She was always allowed to go with Basseker, she told herself. Always! Anywhere! But, actually, she thought of only one thing -- how was she to manage it?
"I shall be seen, shan't I?" she asked tremblingly.
Basseker moved up closer in the semi-darkness. It was like a dim tree moving. "Get into this," he said, and she saw a big potato sack held wide open by his great brown hands.
The sack was clean and looked inviting. It smelt sweet. She did not hesitate now. Scrambling feet first, she slipped into its wide mouth, and the next minute felt herself swung across the broad shoulders, dangling helplessly down his back.
Out of the room and along the passages they went smoothly, but down the back stairs was rather a bumpy business, and Basseker had big bones in his shoulders that stuck into her ribs. She lay curled up, head uppermost, of course, arms tight against her sides, and she tried to look like a load of potatoes as much as possible. The way Basseker strode along gave her confidence. They passed the pantry and kitchen, and the voices of the busy servants were audible. But no one stopped them.
"Going home, are you, Mr. Basseker?" she heard the cook say with a yawn. "Off to see your mother, I suppose? A big bundle you've got this time. Extra heavy it looks! Something for the old lady, eh?"
"Growing things," replied Basseker, without stopping. "They do weigh a bit, yes." He strode on.
Rose could feel the vibrations of his rumbling voice down his spine. The cook called good-night, he answered her with a grunt, and a moment later he had opened the service door and was out in the street. She felt the cooler air, as he lowered the big sack gently to the ground, peeped in to see if she were all right, then hoisted her on to his shoulders again in a more comfortable position. "We've got a bit yet to go," he explained gently, "and there are still a lot of people about. I've made a hole for you to see through. Hold tight now!"
Off they went again along the still busy pavements. Rose could see the people streaming past, but they could not see her. To them she seemed just a sack of potatoes. Policemen eyed the bundle rather closely once or twice, but Basseker looked too innocent for them to stop him and ask what he had inside his sack; he looked just what he was — a Head Gardener who had come up from the country. Meanwhile, they had covered a mile or so, the streets were emptier, she heard Big Ben strike the hour. She counted the strokes. Basseker was counting them too."One, two, three … she could feel the sound rumbling down his back.
"Twelve!" he said aloud, when the clock had finished, "and here we are at last! Now," he added, "we go below. You'll like that, Missie."
"Underground?" she piped, bursting with excitement.
"Underground," he replied. "But I mustn't let you out till we get there."
Through the hole in the sack Rose could see an enormous gateway, a sort of high arched portal, brilliantly lit, with people streaming through it into the street. They had white faces, they looked tired, they were evidently hurrying home to bed. The last one had passed them and the great hall was empty, when Basseker's legs suddenly stopped moving He no longer walked; his body kept quite still.
"Down we go," he said in a thick whisper, "down, down, down!"
And they began to sink. Sliding, sliding down into the earth they went. It was a steady, easy motion, like sinking into deep water. A low rumbling sound accompanied them, but no voices, no footsteps. They were now alone. Rose held her breath. She knew she was dropping through space, and she began to wonder how much deeper they were going to fall, when suddenly she heard Basseker's growling voice. He was saying something to himself: "Step off with the right foot," she heard. And the same instant she felt his leg move forward with a jerk. They were on the level again. The sinking was over.
"Now, Missie, I can let you out," he said with a deep sigh of relief, and opened the mouth of the sack. "And I hope you haven't got the cramp or tied yourself into knots!" He laughed, and the sound of his laughter went echoing away into vast empty spaces beyond.
Lady Rose climbed out, straightened herself, rubbed her eyes, and told him she was all right. She had not got cramp, and she was not tied in a knot. She looked about her. She understood at once why his voice had echoed, for she saw great tunnels running in every direction. Their black gaping mouths were all round her, and a queer, deep rumbling murmur came out of them as from very far away. It rose and fell.
"Is that the elephants breathing?" she asked. She wondered for a moment whether it was his old mother, but she didn't like to say it. She was not a bit frightened. No one could ever be frightened with Basseker.
"That's just the echoes from the world above," he explained with a grin she thought wonderful. "But we're all alone down here. It's after midnight, and there's no one about. We've got a long way to go yet, and had better be moving." He took her by the hand and went up to a large iron gateway above which was written in capital letters "No Exit."
She read this with an effort: No Exit. "That means we mayn't go in, doesn't it?" she asked, still holding firmly to his huge brown hand.
Basseker studied it too, as though it were the label of one of his rock-garden plants. "It means," he replied at length, "that most people mayn't go in, go out, rather, I should say. But we" — he dropped her hand and made a wide gesture with his arms — "we," he went on proudly, "can go anywhere! It's after midnight, and I'm going to see my mother."
Rose stared up into his face. The hair, she thought, had grown much longer. He was the bushiest thing she had ever seen.
Is she as old as that?" she asked, for age, to her, meant having peculiar privileges. "And does she ride on the elephant into her very own castle?"
Basseker made no direct reply to this. His beard rippled with his laughter. How white his collar was! How his voice boomed and echoed!
"All this Underground," he remarked, "belongs to us -- till four o'clock in the morning. We can go where we like. There's not a living soul to stop us. We're underneath the whole of London town. Come on, let's get a-going!"
He grabbed her hand again. He whistled. The great iron gate flew open. They shot through like a couple of projectiles from the muzzle of some enormous gun. And Rose found herself standing at the entrance to an immense tunnel that gaped into black space before her. At her feet she saw two gleaming metal rails.
"There we are, Missie!" cried Basseker. "And this is how we go!"
He stooped down and did something to his boots, and then placed one foot on each shining rail. The next minute he was doing the same thing to her own feet, whatever it was. He straightened up.
"Now, Missie, can you keep your balance? We go pretty fast, remember."
He straddled like a giraffe when it lowers itself to drink. Her own feet were placed like his own, one on each rail, so that she, too, straddled, wide enough for someone to have shot between her legs. She drew a deep breath.
"I shan't split, shall I?" she cried.
"No fear, Missie, but you'll go like greased lightning. Now, take my hand. It's a long way to the Elephant and Castle."
She just had time to snatch his hand when they were off. Her feet, one glued to each rail, began to move. Basseker shot forward, sliding as if he were on skates. She followed him, half dragged, half gliding by her own weight. It seemed like going downhill. They fairly flew. But her feet kept easily to the rails, which were as smooth as ice or butter. The dark walls of the tunnel flashed past her, the air rushed into her face, she was aware of Basseker's beard streaming past her like a river. Her eyes began to water, she couldn't get her breath, her red dressing gown flew out on both sides like a flag in the wind. They raced along like lightning But she never felt her balance waver. She kept steady, leaning a little forward in her effort to keep hold of Basseker's hand.
Whew! Whirr!" she screamed with delight. "I'm flying, flying!"
"Quicker than growing, ain't it, Missie," shouted Basseker, and his voice seemed to drop a mile behind him into space before the words were properly out. If flowers grew as fast as this, she thought, they would be up in a night. Yet sometimes they did come up in a single night!
"Is this where all the roots are?" she tried to ask. "Are we underground where the flowers begin to grow? Is your mother growing underground? And where's the Elephant? Where's the Castle?"
But the wind caught her tiny voice and whipped it into space behind them before he could catch a single syllable. Her hair was plastered across her mouth, and when she tried to brush it away the sleeve of her dressing-gown was almost torn from its seams. Her hand and arm, she even thought, would be swept away with it. They flew along at a terrific speed.
Then, suddenly, the darkness lifted, and she saw a round circle of bright light ahead. It seemed miles away. It grew larger and larger. It was white and silvery. They were rushing towards it. Every second it became bigger. And she knew what it was. It was the mouth of the tunnel. They were coming out of the black darkness into the sunlight.
A second later they were out, and the brilliance was so dazzling that at first Rose could only shade her eyes and blink. "Well done, Missie," she heard Basseker's booming voice. "You're a first-rate Slider. You're as good under ground as I am, and I've been at it for years!"
"Where are we?" she asked, recovering her breath while he stooped to lift her feet from the slippery rails.
"Underground," he replied, "and in the Castle gardens."
"Then where does the light come from? Why isn't it dark?"
He laughed and stood up straight. "Because the sunshine that falls on the ground all day sinks through," he explained. "It isn't lost. It slips down here between the earth and rocks and gets into the growing things before they show up above us in the air."
"And your mother, Basseker? And the Castle? And the Elephant?" she asked, still panting from the recent headlong rush.
"Just look!" he told her. "Open your eyes, Missie, and look!"
She did so, for she was now accustomed to the light, which no longer dazzled her. All about her, as far as the eye could reach, lay a stretch of park-like garden, basking in warm sunshine, and covered with flowers in their wild state, from snowdrops and violets to anemones, sweet williams, daffodils, lilies and crocuses. There were thousands of them, spring, summer and autumn flowers, all growing at once. Fruit trees filled the air with blossom, lilac and laburnum hung in falling waves, honeysuckle and wild roses starred the landscape everywhere. And through these, rising into the still, bright air, stood up in the distance the turrets and spires of a magnificent castle, its grey walls gleaming, its roofs and windows gleaming like silver against the sky. From a pole at the very top a coloured flag streamed gaily in the breeze.
Lady Rose caught her breath. "Oh Basseker!" she cried, "what a lovely, lovely place!"
"Of course it is," he growled. "You wouldn't expect flowers to come from a place that wasn't lovely! Would you now?"
But before she could answer a curious deep sound broke in upon the silence. Thud — thud — thud, it came. It was followed by a trumpeting noise she had never heard before. Nearer and nearer came the thuds; the ground seemed to tremble; something was thumping down towards them through the orchard, and when she turned to look she saw a gigantic shape that was higher than the trees moving slowly in their direction. It was quite close already, not fifty yards away It was coming straight at her, it seemed, and she ran up to Basseker and hid her face in his coat. It was an elephant.
"There, there, Missie," he laughed in his deepest tones, so that she could feel the sound vibrating against his waistcoat, "there's nothing to be afraid of. It's only Beauty coming to take us up to the Castle where my mother lives!"
She peeped. The monster had come to a stop beside them and was flapping his huge ears. His eyes looked down at her. The same minute he lowered his enormous bulk towards the ground, his trunk swept out till its end almost touched her hand as though it waited for a bun, and the tiny tail at the other end of the immense body began to tweak this way and that.
"He likes you, Missie. He's offering you a seat on his back. He'll carry us both. Just put your foot in his trunk and he'll lift you up as easy as rolling into bed!" He laughed and pointed and Rose saw that the end of the trunk was curved like the letter U. Her fear had suddenly left her, for she felt that the great beast was as kind and gentle as he was big. Slowly lifting her foot, she placed it in the curve of the trunk, grabbed at the rough, thick skin with both hands, and the next instant was hoisted through the air and set down on the broad back as delicately as a leaf falls to the ground in autumn. A moment later Basseker was similarly raised and dropped close behind her so that he could hold her with both his arms.
Now, this in itself was exciting enough to take all the attention she had, but there was something else she had noticed that excited her almost more — and that was that her foot as she had placed it in the curved trunk, no longer wore the bedroom slipper she had left the house with, but was now of shining yellow. It was a golden slipper. On the left foot was another golden slipper exactly like it, and her red dressing-gown had completely changed as well. It was now a golden dress, shining with the gold of laburnum, buttercups and dandelions.
"Basseker!" she cried. "I've changed to gold! I'm dressed in gold! When did it happen?"
"And I'm in silver," he replied with a deep chuckle. "It happened in the tunnel. The speed did that. We've got to be lovely too, everything's got to be lovely here." And she now realized for the first time that he wore silver from head to foot and a silver plume waved on his head, so that he looked like a knight in a fairy tale rather than a Head Gardener.
"Hoop-la, Beauty! Off we go!" he boomed, and the elephant began to move ponderously up the slope between the crowding fruit trees. It swayed from side to side, but it went carefully forward, as though remembering that it carried a precious load. There was never any danger of the riders slipping off. And its huge feet, Rose noticed, avoided stepping on the flowers, as it picked its way as delicately as a skater doing tricks between standing bottles that must not be knocked over. Below her spread the tops of the fruit trees with their sea of blossoms. Yet some of these trees, to her surprise, bore fruit instead of blossoms. Everything seemed to grow at once in this marvellous great garden.
"Oh!" she cried, "there's a lovely pear, all ripe and juicy! How I should like to eat it!" And, hardly had the words left her lips, when the long flexible trunk had plucked the fruit from the bough and, curling backwards over the broad flat head, was offering it to her. She took it, a little cautiously, exclaimed "Oh, thank you, Beauty!" and handed it to Basseker. "You have it, please," she said, holding it out to him over her shoulder. But the elephant was quicker than she was; already the trunk had picked another for Basseker too, and was poking it into his mouth. Grapes, oranges, cherries, and even strawberries were fed to them in this way as the monster slowly climbed the slope towards the Castle, but when Rose saw some lilies and asked if she might have these too, the huge beast did not move his trunk to pick them. Instead, the giant head wagged slowly to and fro and from side to side, though too gently to upset the balance of his riders.
"He's shaking his head!" cried Rose. "Does that mean I can't have the lilies?"
"He never picks flowers," explained Basseker. "He won't touch growing things, Missie. Why, he doesn't even step on them!"
Then, suddenly, they emerged from the orchard and the trees were behind them. A bright green lawn, smooth as a billiard table and creamy with a million white daisies stretched in front, with a gravel path that looked like brown sugar winding up to the castle walls.
The great Castle now faced them, the biggest she had ever seen; there seemed countless windows, and that meant countless rooms behind them. The light grey stone of which it was built gave it a silvery appearance. It was far, far too big for one person to occupy; Rose decided that no one person could possibly need so many rooms. Basseker's old mother could hardly use them all. Her mind became so full of questions that she could not frame a single one at first.
"Quite right, Missie," growled the deep voice against her neck, for he evidently had read her thoughts," there's only one living-room. The others are kept — oh, for all sorts of things. You'll see presently for yourself. But first you must be introduced to my mother. She's expecting you."
"How do we get in? There's no door. Not a single door anywhere!" Rose gasped. She had been searching for a door, but could not find one.
"Right again, Missie," said Basseker with a grin. All in good time. Now, Beauty," he addressed the elephant, "just stand still a minute, then ring the bell."
The monster stopped; he was close against the walls; and the same instant he raised his trunk in the air and let out a trumpeting that might have been heard a mile away. Three times he trumpeted, then turned his little eyes upwards in the direction of the second storey. Basseker glanced up too, and Rose did the same. A moment passed, but only a moment, for almost immediately a window on the second floor was flung wide open, and the face and figure of a little old woman was seen looking out and down at them.
"Here we are," boomed Basseker. "We've both come, you see."
The face broke into smiles, and two hands were stretched out far above them over the window-ledge. "Welcome to your little ladyship," exclaimed a gentle voice, "and will you please come inside and see me?" She waved her hands she beckoned. "I've such a lot to show you!"
"Oh, I'd like to," called Rose, "but how can I get up to you?"
"It's quite easy," replied the gentle voice, and before anyone could say another word, the elephant had twined his long trunk about her waist and lifted her high in the air towards the window. A second later she was across the ledge and safely in the old woman's arms, and the smiling old face which, Rose thought, was like a ripe, wrinkled apple in the sun, had kissed her. Dressed in purple silk, her bright eyes sparkling, a white sun-bonnet about the head, smelling like a lily too, Rose thought of her as a wild iris growing on some river bank.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, as she returned the kiss, "I believe you really are a flower! And thank you for inviting me. And are you really going to show me all sorts of things? And do you live alone in the Castle? And — and" — she looked about her — "where's he — your son, I mean?"
There was a gleam of something silvery flashing through the open window, a thud on the floor, and Basseker, lifted by the trunk, stood beside them. The little old woman in purple, Basseker in silver, and Rose in gold — it was a picture straight out of fairyland. And when Basseker lifted his mother in his arms and kissed her, Rose thought of some Knight in her storybooks at home rescuing an imprisoned Princess from the Ogre's tower.
"Everything growing nicely, is it?" Basseker asked, and the old woman, smiling down at Rose, said: "Yes, everything, including this," as she stroked the child's hair. "Just like her name, too, isn't she?"
"Of course," growled her son, "and she loves a garden as much as we do; that's why I brought her. Now, there isn't too much time, mother. We must get back before dawn, remember. You'd better show her about at once. There's lots to see."
They started off through the great Castle, going from room to room, down endless corridors, along winding galleries, up and down staircases, and through enormous halls. "We get everything ready here, you see," explained the old woman, "for sending up above, where you see them coming out of the earth as flowers and shrubs and trees."
In one great room lay thousands of bulbs of various sorts, in another the floor was several feet deep in seeds, a third was full of cuttings, buds, and little sprays for grafting. One very large hall held nothing but fruit, another roots and vegetables, a third sweet-smelling herbs, a fourth flowering trees and shrubs such as lilac, laburnum, lavender and sweet-briar. Some rooms were cool and others hot, according to what they contained, and the galleries were laid down with different kinds of earth and soil, a foot deep, while the lower floors were given over to mosses, ferns, and the kind of growing things that needed damp, spongy ground. Across the ground floor, running the whole length of the Castle, was a little tinkling stream.
"The bees and the birds, mother," came Basseker's deep voice. "Don't forget to show her those. Time's getting on, too. We mustn't linger."
They climbed a long, winding staircase that went up into one of the lofty towers, on each landing of which there was one very large room, and as they neared the first a deep murmuring sound was audible inside. The door had a sheet of glass let into it like a window. Basseker put his face against it and looked through, but did not open the door. The murmuring rose and fell like the sound of surf a long way off. Rose hesitated, as he drew back to let her see, for the curious noise rather frightened her.
"Nothing to hurt you, Missie," he told her. "They won't touch you, because they can't. Just have a peep through the glass."
She put her face against the pane and stared and it was indeed a queer sight she saw. The air was alive with movement -- thousands of little objects circled through it in all directions, in streams and lines and clusters. They were flying things, but at first she could not guess what they were. The windows were wide open, the room was full of sunlight, and flowers of all sorts, she saw, grew on the floor, hung from the ceiling, and even clung to the walls. The little flying objects circled about everywhere but especially near the flowers, and while hundreds kept going through the window into the open air, hundreds more flew in to take their places, Rose started and stared, wondering what it all meant.
"Bees, Missie," Basseker's deep voice explained behind her. "They're practising collecting pollen while they suck the honey, so that they can spread it from flower to flower when they get above ground again. There are millions of them in that big room!"
On the next landing, close under the very roof of the tower, were the birds, and Rose found it even more wonderful than the bee room. For here she saw the birds — thrushes, blackbirds, swallows, finches, tits — learning which flies and grubs and insects injured the growing plants, and which, therefore, they must eat so that the plants could have a chance to grow. She was so fascinated that old Mrs. Basseker had to drag her away.
Meanwhile, as they wandered from room to room, the time was passing, and presently a loud trumpeting from the elephant outside warned them that they must hurry.
"Oho!" cried Basseker, "that means the dawn is coming We must be getting back, mother. The Underground is only empty till four o'clock, remember. Beauty's giving us a hint!"
"But we haven't had tea yet," complained the old woman, "and there's strawberry jam and meringues and gooseberry-fool and trifle and a dozen other things her ladyship likes. Besides, there are the water-plants to show her still, the magic sunflowers, the lotus buds, and — oh, a hundred more. And the weeds — we haven't shown her how we kill the awful weeds — "
"Another time, mother; another time!" cried Basseker. "She mustn't be late. After four o'clock the Tubes are full of trains and people. Besides, I've got to get her up to her room again safely. And then I must get back to the home gardens myself!"
The elephant kept on trumpeting, and Basseker and his mother kept on talking both at once. But the time had come; they had to go. They could not risk being caught by the trains and the people in the network of tunnels and tubes beneath old London town. Basseker knew his business. That's why he was such a marvellous Head Gardener.
"Father told me you were born underground," piped Rose breathlessly, as he took her by the hand and pulled her downstairs, across the halls and galleries to the window.
"Goodbye, your ladyship, and please come again!" cried the old mother.
The trunk poked its end through the window into the room. It went curving and wriggling about, searching for its human luggage. It found Rose's little waist and fastened itself round it.
"Goodbye, Mrs. Basseker, goodbye!" she cried as she was caught and whisked through the window. She landed gently on the broad back. Next, Basseker followed her through the air and sat behind her. The old woman smiled and waved her purple arms. They started.
"We're a bit late, Beauty," Basseker said, and the monster understood and went swiftly down the gravel path and through the fruit trees till they reached the tunnel mouth. "We're very late," boomed Basseker. "I doubt if we shall do it."
For answer the elephant, having reached the opening, stooped, placed his enormous feet carefully on the rails, and suddenly — shot inside with both riders still upon his back.
"Well done, Beauty!" cried Basseker. You're a wonderful fellow!" He turned Rose's face towards him and added: "He goes twice as fast as we can!" They were off. "Hold tight!" he bawled. "I've got you! Keep your face down!"
They shot away like lightning. The wind roared past them. The elephant's body almost filled the tunnel, but he never wavered, his great feet held safely to the slippery rails. Occasionally his long trunk came backwards over his shoulders to feel if his riders were safe. The monster shot like a meteor racing through the sky. It was a marvellous performance. Then, gradually, his speed slackened; a round hole of light appeared beyond his flapping ears; the end of the tunnel was in sight. They reached the station. Already the electric lights were turned on.
"We've just time!" called Basseker breathlessly, as the trunk lifted them both down in turn. "Goodbye, Beauty! And we can't thank you enough. Without your help we should never have got here in time!"
The elephant turned round with his head pointing into the tunnel again; he flapped his ears, his small eyes peeped at the two passengers, his trunk came wriggling round and touched Rose's hand to say goodbye, and the next second — he was off. His huge bulk, looking like a great haystack, slid into the big black mouth of the Tube, and he shot away like an arrow. He was gone.
Rose waved her hand and cried "Goodbye, goodbye!" when Basseker interrupted her. He no longer wore silvery clothes, her own red dressing-gown had come back too.
"Not a minute to spare," he whispered. "I hear voices. The ticket-collectors and conductors are coming back to work already. The trains will start any minute now. Hop in, Missie, hop in!" He held the sack open for her; she stepped inside; the next instant she was swung across his back again and he had begun to take his long, steady strides across the platforms. She curled up as best she could, closed her eyes, and tried to think of all the wonderful things she had seen and heard. …
Now, it was a queer fact, but natural, perhaps, that she felt drowsy suddenly. The swing of Basseker's long stride was soothing. He moved easily and gently. She remembered when the gliding began -- uphill this time, instead of down -- but, oddly enough, she did not notice when it stopped. "Right foot … step off with the right …" she heard his deep rumble as he spoke to himself, but the actual instant when he left the sliding staircase and crossed the level platform into the street made no impression on her. Once or twice she heard him say "Good-morning! Fine day again!" evidently to someone, a policeman, perhaps, whom he passed in the still empty streets, but beyond that she remembered nothing until she was aware that he was climbing slowly and stealthily up a long series of steps. She knew then that they were in the house again. Suddenly he stopped.
"Here we are, Missie," he whispered. She heard a handle rattle. He was opening a door. She felt him walk in. She heard the door closed behind them. Then she felt him carefully lowering the heavy sack from his shoulders. The cool air touched her face. It was light.
She opened her eyes in her own bedroom, where the dawn was creeping in through the open window.
"One, two, three!" whispered Basseker, and with a gentle heave he dumped her out of the mouth of the sack and into her own bed.
He stood there a minute looking down at her.
"Oh please take me again some day, Basseker," she whispered breathlessly, "please, please. I loved it so.…"
He whispered back, as he pulled the bedclothes up to her chin:
"Another time, Missie, I will. There's lots more to see besides the Elephant and Castle — there's the Black Friars, the Cross King, the Swiss Cottage, the Court of the Baron and the Raven, the Seven Sisters with their Seven Dials, the old Parson of the Green, the Three Circuses … and … and now I must be off to catch my train to the country and see how my things — our things — are growing.…"
He was gone. The house was very still. The servants all lay asleep. The dawn grew brighter. Lady Rose closed her eyes and promptly fell sound asleep.