“It was clever of you, Mr. Browne, to have brought the bed into the shop of that dreadful Bookman,” said Miss Price.
Emelius tried to look modest. He failed. “It occurred to me that we might wish to leave suddenly,” he said.
“I am sorry I doubted you,” said Miss Price.
“Don’t think of it, dear lady. You could not be blamed.”
The bed had carried Emelius, Miss Price, and the children past the sunset and the moonrise and through a strange, rose-tinted, silvery dawn that was completely unlike any ordinary daybreak. Now the bed cruised in a clear blue sky above an endless blue sea.
Miss Price looked down. She thought she could see a small patch of green far below.
“Mr. Browne, look!” said Miss Price. “What is your opinion?”
The bed nosed over and began to dive toward the speck.
“It’s Naboombu!” shouted young Paul, as the bit of land rushed up at them. “I can see the palm trees, just like in my book, and the lagoon, and—”
That was all Paul had time to say, for the bed splashed into the lagoon and promptly sank.
“Beastly climate!” said Emelius to a fish who was swimming past. He clutched at his hat to keep it from floating away. “I never fancied the sea.”
For some reason, none of them were surprised that Emelius could speak underwater.
Charlie gaped at the blue depths and the bright reefs. “I’ve never seen an island like this before!” he exclaimed.
“I have!” declared Paul. He had his little picture book out. “Here we are, on page three. And there’s Mr. Codfish himself!”
A codfish wearing a Homburg hat swam near the bed. “Hello, young fellow,” he said to Paul. “Welcome to Naboombu Lagoon!”
“Now I’m hearing things!” complained Charlie. “Codfish don’t talk!”
The cod waved a fin at Charlie. “Not too bright, is he?” he asked Paul.
“He’s my brother,” said Paul.
“Oh?” said the codfish. “Sorry.”
Paul was sometimes sorry about it himself. He said nothing, and Miss Price entered the conversation. “Might I inquire, Mr. Codfish—where _is_ the Island of Naboombu?” she asked.
“You mean the land part?” The codfish pointed up. “That way. You can’t miss it. None of my business, of course, but I shouldn’t go there if I were you. Having troubles, they are!”
Paul consulted his picture book. “Mr. Cod’s right, you know,” he said. “Lots of trouble.”
“Trouble or not, we should be getting on,” insisted Miss Price. “I wish to see whoever is in charge.”
The bed swayed gently in the underwater current. “What’s the rush?” asked Emelius, who only moments before had been complaining about the climate. “It’s rather pleasant down here!” He reached to pluck an undersea flower from a rock, and he presented the strange bloom to Miss Price.
“Thank you.” She put it in her buttonhole. “I suppose if one were looking for a lost spell, it could as well be lost underwater as above.”
“Not at all improbable,” said Emelius.
At that moment, the bed tilted sharply.
“Miss Price!” cried Carrie.
“Hey!” yelled Charlie.
“Good heavens!” exclaimed Miss Price. “We’ve been hooked!”
And so they had. A big fishhook had caught on one end of the bed, and they were being hauled up rapidly through the waters of the lagoon.
“Hold tight, children!” warned Miss Price.
Emelius needed no warning. He was clinging desperately to the foot of the bed.
There was a splash as the bed broke the surface of the lagoon.
“Oh, oh, ooooh!” said a deep, growly voice. “This time I got a whopper!”
The bed skipped and skidded across the water toward the sandy beach, where an excited bear wearing a striped jersey and a sailor cap strained and struggled to reel them in.
But once he had landed them, and the bed and the children and Miss Price and Emelius were high and dry on the sand, the bear was mightily disgusted. “People!” he shouted. “What scurvy luck!”
“Perhaps, my dear, I had better handle this,” said Emelius. He doffed his hat to the angry bear. “Good day, Captain,” he began. “Used to be a seafaring man myself!”
The bear scowled.
“Many’s the time I shipped out of Portsmouth,” said Emelius.
“Stow it, mate!” advised the bear. He picked up Emelius by the seat of his trousers and thrust him forward so that he could not help but read a sign that had been posted on the beach. “No Peopling Allowed,” proclaimed the sign. “By Order of H.R.M. Leonidus.”
“That means I’ve got to throw you all back,” said the bear.
“Wait a minute!” Paul skipped up to the bear and opened his picture book. “It says here that anybody can see the king. That’s the law.”
The bear put Emelius down. “Where does it say that?” he asked.
“Right here.” Paul pointed to the page.
The bear squinted.
“I take it you can read, sir,” said Emelius.
The bear did not say whether he could or could not read. He did, however, give them a piece of advice. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get yourselves tossed back in. The king hates people!”
Miss Price gathered the children close to her. “Nonetheless, we must see the king on an urgent personal matter. Lead the way, please.”
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