"The Enchanted Castle" by E. Nesbit, Chapters 1–2

There is a sort of a something about that kind of house that makes you hardly able even to talk to each other when you are left alone, and playing seems unnatural and affected.

It was a very sleek boy, brown and thin and interesting-looking, that knocked at the door of the parlour where Mademoiselle sat reading a yellow-covered book and wishing vain wishes.

"We'll try," he said earnestly.

"Why not say at once you want to be free of surveillance, how you say—overwatching—without pretending it is me you wish to please?"

"It's all right," said Gerald indifferently.

The ingenuous youth won the regard of the foreign governess, who in her youth had been the beauty of her humble village.

"I say, what a humbug you are though, aren't you?" said Jimmy.

Mademoiselle, less stern than Kathleen had ever seen her, presided at supper, which was bread and treacle spread several hours before, and now harder and drier than any other food you can think of.

"If you've got the money to throw away on horns..." said Jimmy contemptuously.

But their dauntless leader, whose eyes had grown used to the dark while the clumsy forms of the others were bunging up the entrance, had made a discovery.

The narrow passage ended in a round arch all fringed with ferns and creepers.

They passed through the arch into a deep, narrow gully whose banks were of stones, moss-covered; and in the crannies grew more ferns and long grasses.

"The bold Captain, reproving the silly chatter of his subordinates—"

"I like that!" said Jimmy, indignant.

"I thought you would," resumed Gerald—"of his subordinates, bade them advance with caution and in silence, because after all there might be somebody about, and the other arch might be an ice-house or something dangerous."

"Our hero," said Gerald, "who nothing could dismay, raised the faltering hopes of his abject minions by saying that he was jolly well going on, and they could do as they liked about it."

"Our hero," said Gerald, "who nothing could dismay, raised the faltering hopes of his abject minions by saying that he was jolly well going on, and they could do as they liked about it."

"I don't see any castle," said Jimmy.
"What do you call that, then?" Gerald pointed to where, beyond a belt of lime-trees, white towers and turrets broke the blue of the sky.

"How do you know? Do you think there's nothing in the world but what you've seen?" His scorn was crushing.

The dauntless knight then led the way, leaving his ignorant squires to follow or not, just as they jolly well chose.

Their thoughts dwelt fondly on the slices of cold mutton, the six tomatoes, the bread and butter, the screwed-up paper of salt, the apple turnovers, and the little thick glass that one drank the gingerbeer out of.

The arm wore a sleeve of pink and gold brocaded silk, faded a little here and there but still extremely imposing, and the sleeve was part of a dress, which was worn by a lady who lay on the stone seat asleep in the sun.

The rosy gold dress fell open over an embroidered petticoat of a soft green colour.

The Princess's face was small and white between long plaits of black hair.

"But she's in long dresses," urged Kathleen.
"Yes, but look what a little way down her frock her feet come. She wouldn't be any taller than Jerry if she was to stand up."

"Why, kiss her awake, of course."
"Not me!" was Gerald's unhesitating rejoinder.

"My noble preserver!" said the Princess, and held out her hand. Jimmy shook it vigorously.

She stood up, and her pink brocaded dress lay in bright waves about her feet.

And they walked in a slow procession along the grass towards the castle. The Princess went first, and Kathleen carried her shining train; then came Jimmy, and Gerald came last.

The Princess entered, slow and stately, but once inside she twitched her sheeny train out of Jimmy's hand and turned to the three.

"Come along," said the Princess hospitably. "I couldn't find anything but bread and cheese—but it doesn't matter, because everything's magic here, and unless you have some dreadful secret fault the bread and cheese will turn into anything you like. What would you like?" she asked Kathleen.

"Beneath this arras," said the Princess, "is the door leading to my private apartments." She held the tapestry up with both hands, for it was heavy, and showed a little door that had been hidden by it.

He turned from fixing it by an ingenious adaptation of his belt to find the others already decked with diadems, necklaces, and rings.

He turned from fixing it by an ingenious adaptation of his belt to find the others already decked with diadems, necklaces, and rings.

You could play besieged castles awfully well in that maze—unless you can do any more magic tricks.

As Kathleen was fitting the last shining ornament into its proper place, she saw that part of the shelf near it held, not bright jewels, but rings and brooches and chains, as well as queer things that she did not know the names of, and all were of dull metal and odd shapes.

"What's all this rubbish?" she asked.
"Rubbish, indeed!" said the Princess. "Why those are all magic things! This bracelet—any one who wears it has got to speak the truth. This chain makes you as strong as ten men; if you wear this spur your horse will go a mile a minute; or if you're walking it's the same as seven-league boots."

Let's go out into the garden, near the lake, where it's cool, and we'll hold a solemn council.

A shadow, very black and distinct, fell on the white marble floor.

"Sit down, Princess, and we'll have a thorough good palaver about it."