ONCE inside, Bedelia quickly gave a hand to Sally and in a moment the little girl, lifted up by the Sign Post, stood beside the small bear. The Sign Post now swiftly swung himself up to the balcony, being assisted in no small degree by the Polar Bear, who for various reasons remained below. He was to keep watch and give notice if anyone approached.

It was now arranged that as the Sign Post was far too tall to navigate around inside of the house, he should climb from one balcony to another until he reached the top and if possible effect the rescue of the Wizardess from the outside. This seemed very satisfactory to Sally and Bedelia, neither of whom exactly liked the idea of encountering the gargoyles which they knew were wandering about, unfettered, in the dark halls.

Anxiously they waited, watching the long legs of the Sign Post as they trailed over the edge of the upper railing. Then they disappeared and all was painful suspense for what seemed at least a century. Then at a shout from the Polar Bear they both rushed out on the balcony. They beheld the Sign Post swinging himself swiftly down from balcony to balcony, which he appeared to do with the utmost ease and looking more like a big spider than anything else—all legs and arms. Clinging to his neck was the Weather Prophet, her fluffy skirts flying every which way in the fine breeze. Presently he had reached the ground and having gently set his fair burden down, he quickly scrambled back again and hastened to bring down Sally and Bedelia, who were beginning to feel a wee bit nervous as they had tried the door of the room in which they were and had found it locked on the outside. And right thankful they were to find themselves on the green grass below, comforting the little Weather Prophet, who was overjoyed to find herself at liberty.

Where she should go was the next question. The Wizard might return at any moment, and her own house was a house no longer. Suddenly an expression of delight flashed over Sally’s face.

“Let us go to the Walking House!” she exclaimed. “You will be quite safe there and if anyone comes in pursuit, the house can easily escape with you.”

To this the Weather Prophet gave a joyful assent.

“Let us go quickly, quickly!” she cried. “I feel it in my bones, in my skirts, I mean, that we are going to have something very unusual. In fact, according to the calculations, we are going to have an eclipse of the sun in about a quarter of an hour.”

Here she winked at Bedelia with a gesture so comical that the little bear rolled over laughing.

“Come, don’t let us delay,” exclaimed the rescued one, and hand in hand they hurried away from the Wizard’s tower, which was soon completely obscured from view by the thick trees that surrounded it.

At the edge of the park they paused and as the distance to the Walking House was several miles, The Sign Post suggested that he should procure a conveyance and also some wraps for the Weather Prophet in order that none might recognize her. Accordingly he disappeared swiftly and soon returned with one of the autos from the royal garage. As for Sally, Bedelia and the Weather Prophet, you could never have told one from the other in their coats and goggles, while the Polar Bear cuddled around their feet, thus keeping them nice and warm.

Away they flew, the Sign Post for once in his life perched next the chauffeur with his long legs doubled up as much as possible and the rest of them hanging over the dashboard. The chauffeur was an old oyster, who had been chosen for this capacity because he was dumb, and could not voice his suspicions provided he felt any.

As the Walking House stood on the very edge of the town, it took at least fifteen minutes to reach it, and although the chauffeur made good speed, just as they were drawing up in front of it, darkness, sudden, swift and ominous, fell upon Toyland.

It was altogether a hopeless darkness, for which the inhabitants of Toyland were totally unprepared. Lamps and candles were unknown and the people crouched in their gay little houses panic-stricken.

Only in the Walking House did lights appear, for in accordance with custom, candles and candelabra adorned mantels and tables, and it was the work of only a moment to light them all. Gaily Sally and her party hurried into the house, Sally racing downstairs to find Dinah, for they were all as hungry as wolves, while Bedelia escorted the guest of honor upstairs to remove her wraps.

The Polar Bear stretched himself before the front door, making a very effectual guard in case of danger.

At Sally’s suggestion, all the shades were drawn down so that no ray of light might pierce the outer darkness—darkness that covered everything like a muffling cloak, in which the inhabitants of[136]
[137]
[138] Toyland were helplessly floundering about, and which was sure to last until the Wizard came back to set things straight.

“And a fine time he’ll have doing it,” remarked the Weather Prophet with a toss of her pretty little head. “He won’t be able to see his hand before his face, and I took care to leave his old electric machines in such a muddle that he’ll have his hands full—fuller than they’ve ever been with all the cares of state included.”

Sally, who had suspected as much, tried to reprove her, but ended by laughing outright. The Weather Prophet was so very like Bedelia when in her impish moods.

As for Bedelia herself, the idea tickled her so that she laughed until she rolled off the sofa on which she had been sitting and proceeded to bounce up and down on the floor like a fat rubber ball. Then as soon as she was able to get her breath, she sat up, panting and rubbing the tears out of her eyes with both paws.

“My face is leaking! I must be turning into a gargoyle,” she exclaimed, which of course started everybody laughing all over again.

By this time all the dolls had come crowding down into the parlor to be introduced to the new arrival. Sally did not consider it wise to introduce the Weather Prophet by her real name, feeling that if a strict investigation should be made, it would be safer if none of the dolls were aware of her identity. So it was that she was known to the inhabitants as Nellie, a name that had suggested itself to Bedelia.

Sally feared that her own disappearance and that of Bedelia would be connected with that of the Wizard’s wife, and therefore resolved to take every precaution. The eclipse of course would retard any search that the Wizard might see fit to make. But what to do with the fugitive lady for the rest of her life was a question. She flatly declared she would never return to the Wizard and was wild with rage when she learned the use to which her pretty little glass house had been put.

While all the pleasant acquaintance-making was going on in the Walking House, an automobile containing a badly rattled Wizard was slowly picking its way along through the inky blackness. The old gentleman was shrewd enough to guess the cause of the eclipse, although he had been quite sure in the beginning that his wife was locked up too securely to be able to get at anything. He had started forth at once, greatly against the wishes of the King and Queen who, of course, could not understand the cause of his anxiety, and who much preferred to stay behind until the sun shone again. But the Wizard had taken immediate flight, and was now hurrying back to his tower as rapidly as circumstances and the eclipse would permit. On the principle that all roads led to the palace, the chauffeur kept straight on through the pitch darkness, tooting his horn occasionally to prevent a collision with any other eclipse-belated wayfarer who might be floundering about on the same road.

The snow made it somewhat difficult and altogether the trip was anything but a pleasant one, and the Polly-nosed Saphead was glad indeed when he at last found himself in front of his gloomy tower. Instead of stopping there, however, he ordered the chauffeur to go on to the palace, much to the dismay of that personage, who considered that he had already traveled far enough. Nevertheless he put on speed and soon arrived at the royal residence.

Here the Wizard quickly alighted and hastened into the palace. He was gone some time and the chauffeur was growing very impatient when he at last reappeared, triumphantly bearing in his hands a large wicker cage in which were gleaming and glowing all the fireflies that were accustomed always to be liberated at twilight. He chuckled to himself as he was whirled back to his tower, and in a few moments was inside and hastening toward the room that contained his electric plant.

The gargoyles came hurrying down to meet him, and it was a very good thing that he carried a light, for had they caught him alone in the darkness, they would no doubt have made a meal of him. As it was, they recognized him at once and came flapping joyously along with hoarse growls of welcome. But the Wizard now had no time to waste on his pets. Pushing them roughly aside, he dove into his laboratory and after one look around, sank upon a chair with a groan that the gargoyles heard as they crouched against the door in the darkness outside, and to which they replied with sharp growls.

Everywhere reigned confusion worse confounded. Wires were cut, batteries disconnected, wreck and ruin faced him on every side. The Wizard smote his breast and fairly wept with rage.

“Call me the Wizard of Was,” he ejaculated, “for nobody but a good-for-nothing old back number would have gone off and left that minx to get in her fine work here.”

“The Wizard of Was! The Wizard of Was!” a mocking voice cried out of the darkness. And the terrified Wizard jumped to his feet, while a peal of unearthly laughter rang through the room. The next moment he sat down again, much relieved. The parrot had fluttered in after him quite unobserved, and, perched on the high mantel-shelf, was imitating her master at pleasure. Hearing the familiar voice, the gargoyles began to scratch and snarl at the door. They considered it very unfair that the parrot should be allowed inside while they were banished to outer darkness.

“Shut up!” he commanded, fiercely throwing his words at the parrot like shots from a gun. And then, “Lie down there, will you?” this accompanied with a vigorous slap applied to the top of his head, for his scalp-lock had suddenly lifted itself erect and was standing straight up in the air.

“You don’t like the looks of things, hey? Well, I don’t either. But just mind your own affairs. I’ll attend to the rest.” Then pulling himself vigorously together, he set to work to repair the damage as best he could, although he foresaw plenty of hard work ahead of him before the sun could shine out again. Right well he knew that his reputation as a wizard would be gone forever did the present state of affairs continue for any length of time, and while he worked, he concocted a story which he intended to give out to the public on the morrow.

As far as his wife was concerned, he had no doubt that she was wandering about in the upper darkness at the very top of the tower, for it never occurred to him that she could have escaped. He supposed that she had merely climbed out of one window and into another, and so effected an entrance to his rooms where was kept all the electric machinery with which he manipulated the sun.

While he was fussing and fuming, raging at the parrot and scolding the gargoyles, his pretty little wife was in close confab with Sally and Bedelia.

“I don’t exactly understand about that letter tree,” Sally remarked, as she softly scratched the little bear’s fuzzy ears and at the same time gently patted Nellie’s little hand that lay upon her knee.

The three were stretched cosily on the Polar Bear rug in front of the glowing grate, having put on kimonos and let down their back hair—at least, all but Bedelia who wore her usual fur costume.

“Well, my dear,” replied the Weather Prophet, “you see we have no postal system such as yours, and indeed it is quite unnecessary. Whenever we want to communicate with anyone, we simply think our message just as hard as we can, and very shortly our thoughts burst forth into buds and blossoms on one of our letter trees. There are quite a good many of them in Toyland.”

“And how does your friend know?” inquired Sally.

“Oh, one’s friend always has an impression that a letter is waiting. You had one, although you didn’t know it, or you would not have taken the road to the letter tree,” replied the Weather Prophet.

“How very wonderful!” exclaimed the child, while Bedelia, who had been rubbing her head gently against Sally, remarked that it certainly made a wonderful saving in stamps and stationery.

“And there is one thing I have to confess,” went on the Weather Prophet, suddenly holding up a small, glittering object which Sally at once recognized as her little golden key. “Had it not been for this, I never could have gained access to all the private rooms and closets of the Wizard’s tower, although I climbed out of my own window and in at his. The gargoyles, whom you know I fear and despise, were loose in the hall outside my door so I had to choose the other way.”

“But how did you get the key?” demanded the little girl, as she smilingly hung it on her gold chain and replaced the two around her neck. “I never missed it,” she added.

“You dropped it the day you were in my house, and I fancied, as soon as I saw it, that it was a magic key. Of course, I meant to return it the very next time I saw you, but no opportunity offered. Take good care of it, my dear. It is a wonderful little talisman.”

Sally nodded assent to this and presently all three, being tired out with the day’s adventures, tumbled into bed, Sally feeling delighted to be back once more in her own cosy little room.