One leaves the children in the garden, a locked door between them and the leopard, trying to find a way of climbing a ten-foot wall. No gardener was to be found and the gates were locked.
‘We must get over,’ Caroline kept saying. ‘Oh, we must, we must! The charm worked perfectly. If we can only get to the other end of the tunnel and throw in some more bane we shall have done the great deed. Try again, Charles. I’ll give you a leg up. We must get over. Try again.’
One leaves Charles trying.
Now although the three C.’s firmly believed that the magic of the green and yellow flowers subdued the leopard and caused it to speak—in a sort of language that somehow recalled the far-off speech of their ayah in India—I cannot quite expect you to believe this. And I feel that I must delay no longer to tell you what it is you can believe. To do this we must go back to Rupert, whom we left with William in the harness-room, fingering the bright buckles and drawing the long smooth reins through his fingers.
‘I say, William,’ he said, ‘couldn’t we play a little trick on that Poad? There’s a leopard skin in the drawing-room. If I got a couple of pillows and a needle and thread?’
‘Eh?’ said William, staring at him. Then suddenly he smacked his leg and laughed aloud. ‘You’ve hit it this time, Master Rupert,’ he said; ‘blessed if you ’aven’t. You go along in and get the skin. Careful now, because of Mother Wilmington.’
‘The drawing-room’s locked,’ said Rupert, ‘and I don’t want to tell the others.’
‘The drawing-room windows isn’t,’ said William. ‘We’ll watch our time, and I’ll make a back for you. An’ never you mind about pillows. Straw’s good enough stuffing. An’ don’t forget the needle and cotton. I expect you’ll find some lady’s working-box in the drawing-room to get them out of.’