Kabanata Kabanata 2 · A Grand Transformation Scene

. A Grand Transformation Scene

"Magnaque numinibus vota exaudita malignis."

Paul Bultitude put on his glasses to examine the stone more carefully,

for it was some time since he had last seen or thought about it. Then he

looked up and said once more, "What use would a thing like this be to

you?"

Dick would have considered it a very valuable prize indeed; he could

have exhibited it to admiring friends--during lessons, of course, when

it would prove a most agreeable distraction; he could have played with

and fingered it incessantly, invented astonishing legends of its powers

and virtues; and, at last, when he had grown tired of it, have bartered

it for any more desirable article that might take his fancy. All these

advantages were present to his mind in a vague shifting form, but he

could not find either courage or words to explain them.

Consequently he only said awkwardly, "Oh, I don't know, I should like

it."

"Well, any way," said Paul, "you certainly won't have it. It's worth

keeping, whatever it is, as the only thing your uncle Marmaduke was ever

known to give to anybody."

Marmaduke Paradine, his brother-in-law, was not a connection of whom he

had much reason to feel particularly proud. One of those persons endowed

with what are known as "insinuating manners and address," he had, after

some futile attempts to enter the army, been sent out to Bombay as agent

for a Manchester firm, and in that capacity had contrived to be mixed up

in some more than shady transactions with rival exporters and native

dealers up the country, which led to an unceremonious dismissal by his

employers.

He had brought home the stone from India as a propitiatory token of

remembrance, more portable and less expensive than the lacquered

cabinets, brasses, stuffs and carved work which are expected from

friends at such a distance, and he had been received with pardon and

started once more, until certain other proceedings of his, shadier

still, had obliged Paul to forbid him the house at Westbourne Terrace.

Since then little had been heard of him, and the reports which reached

Mr. Bultitude of his disreputable relative's connection with the

promotion of a series of companies of the kind affected by the widow and

curate, and exposed in money articles and law courts, gave him no

desire to renew his acquaintance.

"Isn't it a talisman, though?" said Dick, rather unfortunately for any

hopes he might have of persuading his father to entrust him with the

coveted treasure.

"I'm sure I can't tell you," yawned Paul, "how do you mean?"

"I don't know, only Uncle Duke once said something about it. Barbara

heard him tell mamma. I say, perhaps it's like the one in Scott, and

cures people of things, though I don't think it's that sort of talisman

either, because I tried it once on my chilblains, and it wasn't a bit of

good. If you would only let me have it, perhaps I might find out, you

know."

"You might," said his father drily, apparently not much influenced by

this inducement, "but you won't have the chance. If it has a secret, I

will find it out for myself" (he little knew how literally he was to be

taken at his word), "and, by the way, there's your cab--at last."

There was a sound of wheels outside, and, as Dick heard them, he grew

desperate in his extremity; a wish he had long secretly cherished

unspoken, without ever hoping for courage to give it words, rose to his

lips now; he got up and moved timidly towards his father.

"Father," he said, "there's something I want to say to you so much

before I go. Do let me ask you now."

"Well, what is it?" said Paul. "Make haste, you haven't much time."

"It's this. I want you to--to let me leave Grimstone's at the end of the

term."

Paul stared at him, angry and incredulous, "Let you leave Dr.

Grimstone's (oblige me by giving him his full title when you speak of

him)," he said slowly. "Why, what do you mean? It's an excellent

school--never saw a better expressed prospectus in my life. And my old

friend Bangle, Sir Benjamin Bangle, who's a member of the School Board,

and ought to know something about schools, strongly recommended

it--would have sent his own son there, if he hadn't entered him at Eton.

And when I pay for most of the extras for you too. Dancing, by Gad, and

meat for breakfast. I'm sure I don't know what you would have."

"I'd like to go to Marlborough, or Harrow, or somewhere," whimpered

Dick. "Jolland's going to Harrow at Easter. (Jolland's one of the

fellows at Grimstone's--Dr. Grimstone's I mean.) And what does old

Bangle know about it? He hasn't got to go there himself! And--and

Grimstone's jolly enough to fellows he likes, but he doesn't like

_me_--he's always sitting on me for something--and I hate some of the

fellows there, and altogether it's beastly. Do let me leave! If you

don't want me to go to a public school, I--I could stop at home and have

a private tutor--like Joe Twitterley!"

"It's all ridiculous nonsense, I tell you," said Paul angrily,

"ridiculous nonsense! And, once for all, I'll put a stop to it. I don't

approve of public schools for boys like you, and, what's more, I can't

afford it. As for private tutors, that's absurd! So you will just make

up your mind to stay at Crichton House as long as I think proper to keep

you there, and there's an end of that!"

At this final blow to all his hopes, Dick began to sob in a subdued

hopeless kind of way, which was more than his father could bear. To do

Paul justice, he had not meant to be quite so harsh when the boy was

about to set out for school, and, a little ashamed of his irritation, he

sought to justify his decision.

He chose to do this by delivering a short homily on the advantages of

school, by which he might lead Dick to look on the matter in the calm

light of reason and common sense, and commonplaces on the subject began

to rise to the surface of his mind, from the rather muddy depths to

which they had long since sunk.

He began to give Dick the benefit of all this stagnant wisdom, with a

feeling of surprise as he went on, at his own powerful and original way

of putting things.

"Now, you know, it's no use to cry like that," he began. "It's--ah--the

usual thing for boys at school, I'm quite aware, to go about fancying

they're very ill-used, and miserable, and all the rest of it, just as if

people in my position had their sons educated out of spite! It's one of

those petty troubles all boys have to go through. And you mark my words,

my boy, when they go out into the world and have real trials to put up

with, and grow middle-aged men, like me, why, they see what fools

they've been, Dick; they see what fools they've been. All the--hum, the

innocent games and delights of boyhood, and that sort of thing, you

know--come back to them--and then they look back to those hours passed

at school as the happiest, aye, the very happiest time of their life!"

"Well," said Dick, "then I hope it won't be the happiest time in mine,

that's all! And you may have been happy at the school you went to,

perhaps, but I don't believe you would very much care about being a boy

again like me, and going back to Grimstone's, you know you wouldn't!"

This put Paul on his mettle; he had warmed well to his subject, and

could not let this open challenge pass unnoticed--it gave him such an

opening for a cheap and easy effect.

He still had the stone in his hand as he sank back into his chair,

smiling with a tolerant superiority.

"Perhaps you will believe me," he said, impressively, "when I tell you,

old as I am and much as you envy me, I only wish, at this very moment, I

could be a boy again, like you. Going back to school wouldn't make me

unhappy, I can tell you."

It is so fatally easy to say more than we mean in the desire to make as

strong an impression as possible. Well for most of us that--more

fortunate than Mr. Bultitude--we can generally do so without fear of

being taken too strictly at our word.

As he spoke these unlucky words, he felt a slight shiver, followed by a

curious shrinking sensation all over him. It was odd, too, but the

arm-chair in which he sat seemed to have grown so much bigger all at

once. He felt a passing surprise, but concluded it must be fancy, and

went on as comfortably as before.

"I should like it, my boy, but what's the good of wishing? I only

mention it to prove that I was not speaking at random. I'm an old man

and you're a young boy, and, that being so, why, of course--What the

dooce are you giggling about?"

For Dick, after some seconds of half-frightened open-mouthed staring,

had suddenly burst into a violent fit of almost hysterical giggling,

which he seemed trying vainly to suppress.

This naturally annoyed Mr. Bultitude, and he went on with immense

dignity, "I--ah--I'm not aware that I've been saying anything

particularly ridiculous. You seem to be amused?"

"Don't!" gasped Dick. "It, it isn't anything you're saying--it's,

it's--oh, can't you feel any difference?"

"The sooner you go back to school the better!" said Paul angrily. "I

wash my hands of you. When I do take the trouble to give you any advice,

it's received with ridicule. You always were an ill-mannered little cub.

I've had quite enough of this. Leave the room, sir!"

The wheels must have belonged to some other cab, for none had stopped at

the pavement as yet; but Mr. Bultitude was justly indignant, and could

stand the interview no longer. Dick, however, made no attempt to move;

he remained there, choking and shaking with laughter, while his father

sat stiffly on his chair, trying to ignore his son's unmannerly conduct,

but only partially succeeding.

No one can calmly endure watching other people laughing at him like

idiots, while he is left perfectly incapable of guessing what he has

said or done to amuse them. Even when this is known, it requires a

peculiarly keen sense of humour to see the point of a joke against

oneself.

At last his patience gave out, and he said coldly, "Now, perhaps, if you

are quite yourself again, you will be good enough to let me know what

the joke is?"

Dick, looking flushed and half-ashamed, tried again and again to speak,

but each time the attempt was too much for him. After a time he did

succeed, but his voice was hoarse and shaken with laughter as he spoke.

"Haven't you found it out yet? Go and look at yourself in the glass--it

will make you roar!"

There was the usual narrow sheet of plate glass at the back of the

sideboard, and to this Mr. Bultitude walked, almost under protest, and

with a cold dignity. It occurred to him that he might have a smudge on

his face or something wrong with his collar and tie--something to

account to some extent for his son's frivolous and insulting behaviour.

No suspicion of the terrible truth crossed his mind as yet.

Meanwhile Dick was looking on eagerly with a chuckle of anticipation, as

one who watches the dawning appreciation of an excellent joke.

But no sooner had Paul met the reflection in the glass than he started

back in incredulous horror--then returned and stared again and again.

Surely, surely, this could not be he!

He had expected to see his own familiar portly bow-windowed presence

there--but somehow, look as he would, the mirror insisted upon

reflecting the figure of his son Dick. Could he possibly have become

invisible and have lost the power of casting a reflection--or how was it

that Dick, and only Dick, was to be seen there?

How was it, too, when he looked round, there was the boy still sitting

there? It could not be Dick, evidently, that he saw in the glass.

Besides, the reflection opposite him moved when he moved, returned when

he returned, copied his every gesture!

He turned round upon his son with angry and yet hopeful suspicion. "You,

you've been playing some of your infernal tricks with this mirror, sir,"

he cried fiercely. "What have you done to it?"

"Done! how could I do anything to it? As if you didn't know that!"

"Then," stammered Paul, determined to know the worst, "then do you, do

you mean to tell me you can see any--alteration in me? Tell me the truth

now!"

"I should just think I could!" said Dick emphatically. "It's very queer,

but just look here," and he came up to the sideboard and placed himself

by the side of his horrified father. "Why," he said, with another

giggle, "we're--he-he--as like as two peas!"

They were indeed; the glass reflected now two small boys, each with

chubby cheeks and auburn hair, both dressed, too, exactly alike, in Eton

jackets and broad white collars; the only difference to be seen between

them was that, while one face wore an expression of intense glee and

satisfaction, the other--the one which Mr. Bultitude was beginning to

fear must belong to him--was lengthened and drawn with dismay and

bewilderment.

"Dick," said Paul faintly, "what is all this? Who has been, been taking

these liberties with me?"

"I'm sure I don't know," protested Dick. "It wasn't me. I believe you

did it all yourself."

"Did it all myself!" repeated Paul indignantly. "Is it likely I should?

It's some trickery, I tell you, some villainous plot. The worst of it

is," he added plaintively, "I don't understand who I'm supposed to be

now. Dick, who am I?"

"You can't be me," said Dick, "because here I am, you know. And you're

not yourself, that's very plain. You must be _somebody_, I suppose," he

added dubiously.

"Of course I am. What do you mean?" said Paul angrily. "Never mind who

I am. I feel just the same as I always did. Tell me when you first began

to notice any change. Could you see it coming on at all, eh?"

"It was all at once, just as you were talking about school and all that.

You said you only wished---- Why of course; look here, it must be the

stone that did it!"

"Stone! what stone?" said Paul. "I don't know what you're talking

about."

"Yes, you do--the Garuda Stone! You've got it in your hand still. Don't

you see? It's a real talisman after all! How jolly!"

"I didn't do anything to set it off; and besides, oh, it's perfectly

absurd! How can there be such things as talismans nowadays, eh? Tell me

that."

"Well, something's happened to you, hasn't it? And it must have been

done somehow," argued Dick.

"I was holding the confounded thing, certainly," said Paul, "here it is.

But what could I have said to start it? What has it done this to me

for?"

"I know!" cried Dick. "Don't you remember? You said you wished you were

a boy again, like me. So you are, you see, exactly like me! What a lark

it is, isn't it? But, I say, you can't go up to business like that, you

know, can you? I tell you what, you'd better come to Grimstone's with me

now, and see how you like it. I shouldn't mind so much if you came too.

Grimstone's face would be splendid when he saw two of us. Do come!"

"That's ridiculous nonsense you're talking," said Paul, "and you know

it. What should I do at school at my age? I tell you I'm the same as

ever inside, though I may have shrunk into a little rascally boy to look

at. And it's simply an abominable nuisance, Dick, that's what it is! Why

on earth couldn't you let the stone alone? Just see what mischief

you've done by meddling now--put me to all this inconvenience!"

"You shouldn't have wished," said Dick.

"Wished!" echoed Mr. Bultitude. "Why, to be sure," he said, with a gleam

of returning hopefulness, "of course--I never thought of that. The

thing's a wishing stone; it must be! You have to hold it, I suppose, and

then say what you wish aloud, and there you are. If that's the case, I

can soon put it all right by simply wishing myself back again. I--I

shall have a good laugh at all this by and by--I know I shall!"

He took the stone, and got into a corner by himself where he began

repeating the words, "I wish I was back again," "I wish I was the man I

was five minutes ago," "I wish all this had not happened," and so on,

until he was very exhausted and red in the face. He tried with the stone

held in his left hand, as well as his right, sitting and standing, under

all the various conditions he could think of, but absolutely nothing

came of it; he was just as exasperatingly boyish and youthful as ever at

the end of it.

"I don't like this," he said at last, giving it up with a rather

crestfallen air. "It seems to me that this diabolical invention has got

out of order somehow; I can't make it work any more!"

"Perhaps," suggested Dick, who had shown throughout the most

unsympathetic cheerfulness, "perhaps it's one of those talismans that

only give you one wish, and you've had it, you know?"

"Then it's all over!" groaned Paul. "What the dooce am I to do? What

shall I do? Suggest something, for Heaven's sake; don't stand cackling

there in that unfeeling manner. Can't you see what a terrible, mess I've

got into? Suppose--only suppose your sister or one of the servants were

to come in, and see me like this!"

This suggestion simply enchanted Dick. "Let's have 'em all up," he

laughed; "it would be such fun! How they will laugh when we tell them!"

And he rushed to the bell.

"Touch that bell if you dare!" screamed Paul. "I won't be seen in this

condition by anybody! What on earth could have induced that scoundrelly

uncle of yours to bring such a horrible thing as this over I can't

imagine! I never heard of such a situation as this in my life. I can't

stay like this, you know--it's not to be thought of! I--I wonder whether

it would be any use to send over to Dr. Bustard and ask him to step in;

he might give me something to bring me round. But then the whole

neighbourhood would hear about it! If I don't see my way out of this

soon, I shall go raving mad!"

And he paced restlessly up and down the room with his brain on fire.

All at once, as he became able to think more coherently, there occurred

to him a chance, slender and desperate enough, but still a chance, of

escaping even yet the consequences of his folly.

He was forced to conclude that, however improbable and fantastic it

might appear in this rationalistic age, there must be some hidden power

in this Garuda Stone which had put him in his present very unpleasant

position. It was plain too that the virtues of the talisman refused to

exert themselves any more at his bidding.

But it did not follow that in another's hands the spell would remain as

powerless. At all events, it was an experiment well worth the trial, and

he lost no time in explaining the notion to Dick, who, by the sparkle in

his eyes and suppressed excitement in his manner, seemed to think there

might be something in it.

"I may as well try," he said, "give it to me."

"Take it, my dear boy," said Paul, with a paternal air that sorely tried

Dick's recovered gravity, it contrasted so absurdly with his altered

appearance. "Take it, and wish your poor old father himself again!"

Dick took it, and held it thoughtfully for some moments, while Paul

waited in nervous impatience. "Isn't it any use?" he said dolefully at

last, as nothing happened.

"I don't know," said Dick calmly, "I haven't wished yet."

"Then do so at once," said Paul fussily, "do so at once. There's no time

to waste, every moment is of importance--your cab will be here directly.

Although, although I'm altered in this ridiculous way, I hope I still

retain my authority as a father, and as a father, by Gad, I expect you

to obey me, sir!"

"Oh, all right," said Dick indifferently, "you may keep the authority if

you like."

"Then do what I tell you. Can't you see how urgent it is that a scandal

like this shouldn't get about? I should be the laughing-stock of the

city. Not a soul must ever guess that such a thing has happened. You

must see that yourself."

"Yes," said Dick, who all this time was sitting on a corner of the

table, swinging his legs, "I see that. It will be all right. I'm going

to wish in a minute, and no one will guess there has been anything the

matter."

"That's a good boy!" said Paul, much relieved, "I know your heart is in

the right place--only do make haste."

"I suppose," Dick asked, "when you are yourself again, things would go

on just as usual?"

"I--I hope so."

"I mean you will go on sitting here, and I shall go off to Grimstone's?"

"Of course, of course," said Paul; "don't ask so many questions. I'm

sure you quite understand what has to be done, so get on. We might be

found like this any minute."

"That settles it," said Dick, "any fellow would do it after that."

"Yes, yes, but you're so slow about it!"

"Don't be in a hurry," said Dick, "you mayn't like it after all when

I've done it."

"Done what?" asked Mr. Bultitude sharply, struck by something sinister

and peculiar in the boy's manner.

"Well, I don't mind telling you," said Dick, "it's fairer. You see, you

wished to be a boy just like me, didn't you?"

"I didn't mean it," protested Paul.

"Ah, you couldn't expect a stone to know that; at any rate, it made you

into a boy like me directly. Now, if I wish myself a man just like you

were ten minutes ago, before you took the stone, that will put things

all right again, won't it?"

"Is the boy mad?" cried Paul, horrified at this proposal. "Why, why,

that would be worse than ever!"

"I don't see that," objected Dick, stubbornly. "No one would know

anything about it then."

"But, you little blockhead, can't I make you understand? It wouldn't do

at all. We should both of us be wrong then--each with the other's

personal appearance."

"Well," said Dick blandly, "I shouldn't mind that."

"But I should--I mind very much. I object strongly to such a--such a

preposterous arrangement. And what's more, I won't have it. Do you hear,

I forbid you to think of any such thing. Give me back that stone. I

can't trust you with it after this."

"I can't help it," said Dick doggedly. "You've had your wish, and I

don't see why I shouldn't have mine. I mean to have it, too."

"Why, you unnatural little rascal!" cried the justly-enraged father, "do

you mean to defy me? I tell you I will have that stone! Give it up this

instant!" and he made a movement towards his son, as if he meant to

recover the talisman by main force.

But Dick was too quick for him. Slipping off the table with great

agility, he planted himself firmly on the hearth-rug, with the hand that

held the stone clenched behind his back, and the other raised in

self-defence.

"I'd much rather you wouldn't make me hit you, you know," he said,

"because, in spite of what's happened, you're still my father, I

suppose. But if you interfere with me before I've done with this stone,

I'm afraid I shall have to punch your head."

Mr. Bultitude retreated a few steps apprehensively, feeling himself no

match for his son, except in size and general appearance; and for some

moments of really frightful intensity they stood panting on the

hearth-rug, each cautiously watching the other, on his guard against

stratagem and surprise.

It was one of those painful domestic scenes which are fortunately rare

between father and son.

Overhead, the latest rollicking French polka was being rattled out, with

a savage irony of which pianos, even by the best makers, can at times be

capable.

Suddenly Dick drew himself up. "Stand out of my way!" he cried

excitedly, "I am going to do it. I wish I was a man like you were just

now!"

And as he spoke, Mr. Bultitude had the bitterness of seeing his

unscrupulous son swell out like the frog in the fable, till he stood

there before him the exact duplicate of what Paul had so lately been!

The transformed Dick began to skip and dance round the room in high

glee, with as much agility as his increased bulk would allow. "It's all

right, you see," he said. "The old stone's as good as ever. You can't

say anyone would ever know, to look at us."

And then he threw himself panting into a chair, and began to laugh

excitedly at the success of his unprincipled manoeuvres.

As for Paul, he was perfectly furious at having been so outwitted and

overreached. It was a long time before he could command his voice

sufficiently to say, savagely: "Well, you've had your way, and a pretty

mess you've made of it. We're both of us in false positions now. I hope

you're satisfied, I'm sure. Do you think you'll care about going back to

Crichton House in that state?"

"No," said Dick, very decidedly: "I'm quite sure I shouldn't."

"Well, I can't help it. You've brought it on yourself; and, provided the

Doctor sees no objection to take you back as you are and receive you as

one of his pupils, I shall most certainly send you there."

Paul did not really mean this, he only meant to frighten him; for he

still trusted that, by letting Boaler into the secret, the charm might

be set in motion once more, and the difficulty comfortably overcome. But

his threat had a most unfortunate effect upon Dick; it hardened him to

take a course he might otherwise have shrunk from.

"Oh," he said, "you're going to do that? But doesn't it strike you that

things are rather altered with us now?"

"They are, to a certain extent, of course," said Paul, "through my folly

and your wicked cunning; but a word or two of explanation from me----"

"You'll find it will take more explanation than you think," said Dick;

"but, of course, you can try, if you think it worth while--when you get

to Grimstone's."

"When I,--I don't understand. When I,--what did you say?" gasped Paul.

"Why, you see," exclaimed Dick, "it would never have done for us both to

go back; the chaps would have humbugged us so, and as I hate the place

and you seem so fond of being a boy and going back to school and that, I

thought perhaps it would be best for you to go and see how you liked

it!"

"I never will! I'll not stir from this room! I dare you to try to move

me!" cried Paul. And just then there was the sound of wheels outside

once more. They stopped before the house, the bell rang sharply--the

long-expected cab had come at last.

"You've no time to lose," said Dick, "get your coat on."

Mr. Bultitude tried to treat the affair as a joke. He laughed a ghastly

little laugh.

"Ha! ha! you've fairly caught your poor father this time; you've proved

him in the wrong. I admit I said more than I exactly meant. But that's

enough. Don't drive a good joke too far; shake hands, and let us see if

we can't find a way out of this!"

But Dick only warmed his coat tails at the fire as he said, with a very

ungenerous reminiscence of his father's manner: "You are going back to

an excellent establishment, where you will enjoy all the comforts of

home--I can specially recommend the stickjaw; look out for it on

Tuesdays and Fridays. You will once more take part in the games and

lessons of happy boyhood. (Did you ever play 'chevy' when you were a boy

before? You'll enjoy chevy.) And you will find your companions easy

enough to get on with, if you don't go giving yourself airs; they won't

stand airs. Now good-bye, my boy, and bless you!"

Paul stood staring stupidly at this outrageous assumption; he could

scarcely believe yet that it was meant in cruel earnest. Before he could

answer, the door opened and Boaler appeared.

"Had a deal of trouble to find a keb, sir, on a night like this," he

said to the false Dick, "but the luggage is all on top, and the man says

there's plenty of time still."

"Good-bye then, my boy," said Dick, with well-assumed tenderness, but a

rather dangerous light in his eye. "My compliments to the Doctor,

remember."

Paul turned indignantly from him to the butler; he, at least, would

stand by him. Boaler would not see a master who had always been fair, if

not indulgent, to him driven from his home in this cold-blooded manner!

He made two or three attempts to speak, for his brain whirled so with

scathing, burning things to say. He would expose the fraud then and

there, and defy the impudent usurper; he would warn every one against

this spurious pinchbeck imitation of himself. The whole household should

be summoned and called upon to judge between the two!

No doubt, if he had had enough self-command to do all this effectually,

while Dick had as yet not had the time thoroughly to adapt himself to

his altered circumstances, he might have turned the situation at the

outset, and spared himself some very painful experiences.

But it is very often precisely those words which are the most vitally

important to be said that refuse to pass our lips on a sudden emergency.

We feel all the necessity of saying something at once, but the necessary

words unaccountably desert us at the critical moment.

Mr. Bultitude felt himself in this unfortunate position. He made more

wild efforts to explain, but the sense of his danger only petrified his

mind instead of stimulating it. Then he was spared further conflict. A

dark mist rose before his eyes; the walls of the room receded into

infinite space; and, with a loud singing in his ears, he fell, and

seemed to himself to be sinking down, down, through the earth to the

very crust of the antipodes. Then the blackness closed over him--and he

knew no more.