II
Jessop, the groom deputed to fetch the Wonder from Pym, looked a little uneasy, perhaps a little scared. When he drew up at the porch, the child pointed to the door of the cart and indicated that it was to be opened for him. He was evidently used to being waited upon. When this command had been obeyed, he descended deliberately and then pointed to the front door.
“Open!” he said clearly, as Jessop hesitated. The Wonder knew nothing of bells or ceremony.
Jessop came down from the cart and rang.
The butler opened the door. He was an old servant and accustomed to his master’s eccentricities, but he was not prepared for the vision of that strange little figure, with a large head in a parti-coloured cricket-cap, an apparition that immediately walked straight by him into the hall, and pointed to the first door he came to.
“Oh, dear! Well, to be sure,” gasped Heathcote. “Why, whatever——”
“Open!” commanded the Wonder, and Heathcote obeyed, weak-kneed.
The door chanced to be the right one, the door of the breakfast-room, and the Wonder walked in, still wearing his cap.
Challis came forward to meet him with a conventional greeting. “I’m glad you were able to come ...” he began, but the child took no notice; he looked rapidly round the room, and not finding what he wanted, signified his desire by a single word.
“Books,” he said, and looked at Challis.
Heathcote stood at the door, hesitating between amazement and disapproval. “I’ve never seen the like,” was how he phrased his astonishment later, in the servants’ hall, “never in all my born days. To see that melon-’eaded himp in a cricket-cap hordering the master about. Well, there——”
“Jessop says he fair got the creeps drivin’ ’im over,” said the cook. “’E says the child’s not right in ’is ’ead.”