The Man Who Was Magic (16 page)

But it was already too late. “Oh yes,” Malvolio was saying, “you were ordered to come here this morning and you went off on a picnic instead. Supposing you tell us what took place there?”

Ninian had not intended to mention the luncheon actually, it had just slipped out. But now that it had, he felt impelled to reveal everything in order to clear himself and implicate Adam.

“Well, I pretended to fall asleep,” he began, “after we’d had lunch, but I was watching.”

“Go ahead,” Malvolio ordered, “what happened?”

“The most astonishing things,” said Ninian. “He was teaching Jane magic.”

I knew it!
Mopsy thought.
Oh, why did I ever go to sleep at that picnic?

All this time he had been turning himself practically inside out trying to get first his eye, then his ear, then his eye to the keyhole again, in an attempt both to see and hear everything that was going on.

“His kind of magic?” Fussmer queried.

“Oh, the fiend!” said Malvolio piously. “Corrupter of the young!” And there was a murmur of indignation and assent from several of the others. “What did he do?”

“He changed a pig into a lady’s pocketbook.”

“He did
what?”
The shout was practically unanimous and poor Ninian almost hit the ceiling as he leaped up in fright.

“Well, at least he said he could. Anyway, he took an acorn and made an oak tree grow out of it.”

“In front of your eyes?”

“Well, sort of. But remember, I was pretending to sleep.”

“What else?”

Because he was now so alarmed, Ninian was becoming very muddled as to what exactly he had seen or what
had
happened and he went rattling on. “Well, he changed a field of cows into magicians, who then went about turning milk into grass. He made a cake out of some chickens and a whole lot of sheep came by and delivered some brand new overcoats. He conjured up a foal out of absolutely nothing. I saw this with my own eyes. I mean, once when I peeped he wasn’t there and the next time the little fellow was cavorting about and kicking up his heels. Then there was something about a pond and some millions of creatures that lived in it, even though it didn’t look big enough for a couple of minnows. Oh, and he changed bees into butterflies, or butterflies into bees, I don’t remember which. He made a terrible storm with thunder and lightning, even though it was a very bright day with the sun shining. Oh yes, and he caused the stars to come out too. But I think that was later.”

The Magicians were now exchanging looks of alarm and muttering, “Terrible!”; “Oh, the monster!”; “A genuine sorcerer in our midst!”; “We’ll have to deal with that!”; “I wouldn’t have believed it possible!”; “Shocking!”; “Why, he’s even a more dangerous magician than we thought!”

Mopsy heard Dante the Dazzling ask, “You’re sure you’re telling the truth, Ninian?”

“On my honor, I am,” Ninian swore, more frightened now and rattled, and determined to make them believe him, for he was believing it himself by this time, “Oh yes, and he put Jane on a magic carpet and they went off to the seaside together and dug in the sand with spades and made castles, until the tide came in and washed them away. Then they came back in the twinkling of an eye.”

The headshakings and mutterings increased: “A jinn!” “Afreet!” “A witch doctor!” “A warlock!” “A demonologist!” “It’s the Black Art!”

All this made Ninian still more frantic to disassociate himself from Adam and be purged of suspicion of collusion, so that he shouted, “But the worst—I mean, the most tremendous thing, was that he gave her a magic box which when you opened it and looked into it, you could see the past, the present and the future. It would grant you any wish, or you could get onto it, twiddle some knobs and ride up to the moon or the stars.”

This last statement was received with what appeared to be a stunned silence, until Malvolio banged with the gavel and said, with heavy import, “Well, gentlemen, I guess we’re about ready to take a vote, then.”

There was a rustle as the magicians prepared to assent to whatever Malvolio was about to propose, when the Counselor known as Frascati the Fantastic announced, “If you ask me, I think Ninian’s barmy; no milk in the coconut; cuckoo; squirrelly; no beans in the pod; crazy as a bedbug. Changed a pig into a woman’s pocketbook! Turned cows into magicians! Made a thunderstorm—I was out all afternoon and there wasn’t any such thing. And then that magic carpet stuff. He got that out of the
Arabian Nights
.” He made a circular motion with his forefinger by his temple and concluded, “Wheels.”

This speech immediately set the meeting at sixes and sevens, for many of its members only half believed what Ninian had been recounting; others were weak and easily swayed.

Boldini the Brilliant put in, “You’d have a tough time getting evidence of that kind to stand up in court.”

“Court, nothing!” Malvolio spat out viciously. “A fellow like that ought to be lynched.”

“What?” said Saladin the Stupendous. “You’d take a man’s life on hearsay from a nincompoop like Ninian? You’d better have more proof than that, Malvolio.”

“Vat about the treeck with the hegg?” asked Abdul Hamid, sarcastically.

“And the teeth out of my mouth?” added Fussmer. “How do you explain that?”

They were all regarding Ninian again.

“M-magic, I suppose,” the unhappy magician quavered. “How else? Oh and I forgot—his talking dog told him that The Great Robert’s son Peter was hiding in the bushes nearby and Adam magicked up a lot of wasps, hornets and ants and the boy got badly stung and ran away.”

Malvolio’s wicked brain could work like lightning when he was scheming, “Oho!” he cried. “There you are! The Great Robert sent the kid off to spy out the fellow’s secrets for himself. He’s in on it, too. I told you the whole thing is a plot and only I can save you.”

Mephisto the Mysterious asked, “Who did you say told him about the boy?”

“Mopsy, his talking dog.”

“Can that dog really talk?” asked Wang Fu. “Did you hear him say it?”

“Oh yes,” replied Ninian, “as plain as I’m listening to you.” For he really thought he had.

This immediately started an argument all around about whether Mopsy could or could not talk. Some claimed to have heard him, several that Adam only reported what Mopsy was supposed to have said and others that the stranger was in all probability a ventriloquist. But it put Malvolio onto his next move.

He banged his gavel for silence and then said, “All right, Ninian. I believe you’re innocent and I’m going to let you go. You’re lucky and maybe this will teach you to keep away from that kind of stuff. Go on, get out of here. But if there’s any funny business about your performance tonight, or if you dare to tell that fellow what happened in this room, we’ll cut your tongue out.”

Mopsy heard Ninian stammer, “Oh, th-thank you, sir. I p-promise.” Then he disappeared out of the frame of the keyhole and the door slammed as he was ejected.

“Well,” queried Dante the Dazzling, “where do we stand now?”

Malvolio eyed him insolently. “You want proof, don’t you?”

“That’s right.”

“If that dog really can talk, that would be it, wouldn’t it?”

“It certainly would.”

And here Malvolio played his trump card. “Well, gentlemen,” he said, “we’ve got him. I’ve had him picked up. He’s right next door in the Museum.”

The announcement caused a sensation. “What, here?” “You’ve got him?” “Well done, Malvolio!”

“There you are,” said Mephisto, “there’s a real leader for you! Malvolio doesn’t miss a trick. Let’s have the brute in and question him.”

Mopsy quickly took his eye and himself away from the door as one of the Magicians hurried over to open it.

XVI

M
OPSY ON
T
RIAL

A
s the door was thrown wide open the Magician, who happened to be Zerbo, hesitated on the threshold.

“Well,” Malvolio ordered impatiently, “pick him up and bring him in.”

Zerbo said, “He might be dangerous.”

“What, that little mutt?” Malvolio scoffed. “You’re bigger than he is. Go on, don’t be afraid.”

Nervously Zerbo picked up Mopsy, holding him well away from himself.

For an instant the dog had thought of having a go, but decided against it in favor of playing dumb and perhaps finding out exactly what was being cooked up against Adam. If they had let Ninian off, they might then do the same for him and he would be able to warn his master in time.

Zerbo quickly set Mopsy down on a chair at the end of the conference table and then removed himself to a safe distance. Mopsy had a good look at them. In this he was at a decided advantage, because from within the hair covering his face he could peer out at them, but they could not see inside to him, so to speak. He noted all Malvolio’s pals: Mephisto, the oily Abdul Hamid, Fussmer, along with Zerbo and several others apparently of the same stamp he did not know, ranged close to their leader.

Dante the Dazzling was sitting back saying nothing, rather smiling to himself, while Frascati, Boldini, Saladin and Wang Fu had their heads together conferring. Mopsy felt as though he might not be without some friends in court.

Malvolio rapped for attention and having secured it, began, “So you’re the famous talking dog?”

Mopsy said nothing.

“You’ve been brought in here,” Malvolio continued, “to answer for your master, this fellow who calls himself Adam the Simple, and who, because of statements made by him and certain performances, is under suspicion of practicing supernatural magic.”

Mopsy continued to say nothing.

“Well, don’t just sit there,” Malvolio said, raising his head, “if you can talk, say something! You may or may not know it, but witchcraft’s a serious charge and carries the death penalty with it in Mageia. Answer yes, or no: Does he or doesn’t he? Is he or isn’t he that kind of magician?”

“Wuff!” said Mopsy aloud and then to himself, “let’s see what you can make of that.”

Malvolio was aware that Boldini had leaned over and said something to Frascati, which caused the illusionist to snigger.

“Look here,” the squint-eyed little magician shouted as his temperature began to rise, “Topsy, or Flopsy, or whatever your name is, if you don’t watch yourself, it will be the worse for you and for him, too. We want to know a little more about Mr. Simple Adam. Who is he? Where does he really come from? And how did he get Fussmer’s teeth out of his mouth without him ever feeling a thing? Come on—answer!”

“Bow-wow-wow!” replied Mopsy and added another “Wuff!” for good measure.

Dante and Saladin were beginning to smile behind their hands.

Malvolio grew red in the face. He said, “What about the business with the goldfish bowl? We
know
Ninian didn’t do that, because he’s confessed. He’s told us everything, so you might as well come clean, too, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Bow-wow! Grrrrr! Uff—uff!” barked Mopsy who was rather beginning to enjoy himself, while beneath his fringe he laughed and thought:
How’s that for varying the repertoire? I wonder whether Malvolio has any idea how silly he must be looking?

The trouble was that Malvolio was very well aware that he was appearing an absolute fool, cross-examining a small, hairy dog and getting nothing but “bow-wows” and “wuffs” for replies.

“So you won’t talk, eh?” he snarled. “I’ll show you!” and approaching Mopsy, he raised the gavel over his head. “Now, will you or won’t you answer my questions? Or do I let you have it?”

Mopsy had underestimated Malvolio and he flattened out on the chair, one alarmed eye showing.

“Oh, come on, now Malvolio! Hold it! Don’t hit him. That dog can’t talk.” It was Wang Fu who had spoken and Dante the Dazzling, too, was half up out of his chair.

Malvolio lowered his arm, returned to his seat and said sullenly, “I wasn’t going to hit him. I only wanted to be certain.” Then turning savagely upon the two Magicians who had been sent out to bring in Mopsy, said, “Are you two idiots sure you got the right one?”

“Positive, Malvolio. We were watching The Great Robert’s house and saw him put out. He was never away from our eyesight from then on.”

“Wang Fu’s right,” said Boldini, “that fleabag is just an ordinary cur.” Saladin added, “The fellow’s probably nothing but a ventriloquist and half a hypnotist to boot. I vote we give the pooch a saucer of milk to make up for scaring him out of his wits and turn him loose.”

Several of the others agreed and Mopsy was already congratulating himself upon the cleverness of his strategy. But he had reckoned without Malvolio.

In a fury, because in addition to everything else he had the feeling that behind that curtain of hair the animal was laughing at him, the Magician cried, “Turn him loose, nothing! You fellows make me sick! Here I am, taking every kind of risk to save all of you and Mageia from going down the drain and you haven’t got the gumption to back me up. I’ve proved to you that The Great Robert is selling you out, what more do you want? You go soft on Ninian when he gives us all the information we need and now you want to lose us our trump card as well. Of course he won’t talk and give his master away! If you hadn’t stopped me, I’d have knocked it out of him. As long as we hold the little brute, we can make Mr. Adam the Simple jump through hoops. After the show, either he lets us in on how he unscrambled that egg and put it together again, or Fido goes down a well with . . .” and here he made what appeared to be his favorite gesture, a forefinger across the throat. “Are you with me?”