Lord Hugh told him the word; but I will not tell you, for fear you should say it by accident and then be sorry.
‘And if I say that, I shall turn into a cat?’
[p8]
‘Of course,’ said the cat.
‘Oh, yes, I see,’ said Maurice. ‘But I’m not taking any, thanks. I don’t want to be a cat for always.’
‘You needn’t,’ said Lord Hugh. ‘You’ve only got to get some one to say to you, “Please
leave off being a cat and be Maurice again,” and there you are.’
Maurice thought of Dr. Strongitharm’s. He also thought of the horror of his father when he should find Maurice gone, vanished, not to be traced. ‘He’ll be sorry, then,’ Maurice told himself, and to the cat he said, suddenly:—
‘Right—I’ll do it. What’s the word, again?’
‘——,’ said the cat.
‘——,’ said Maurice; and suddenly the table shot up to the height of a house, the walls to the height of tenement buildings, the pattern on the carpet became enormous, and Maurice found himself on all fours. He tried to stand up on his feet, but his shoulders were oddly heavy. He could only rear himself upright for a moment, and then fell heavily on his hands. He looked down at them; they seemed to have grown shorter and fatter, and were encased in black fur gloves. He felt a desire to walk on all fours—tried it—did it. It was very odd—the movement of the arms [p9] straight from the shoulder, more like the movement of the piston of an engine than anything Maurice could think of at that moment.