I thought for a moment. Tell it that it makes me happy to watch it dance.' She sang again to it. It spun and leaped, its flame tendrils whirling and floating in intricate, delightful patterns.
That was good, but not sufficient. Can you think of anything else?'
I thought hard. Tell it that if it likes, I will build a fireplace in my house where it will be welcome to live whenever it wishes.'
She nodded approvingly and spoke to it again. I could almost understand its answer, but Mrs Jennings translated. It likes you. Will you let it approach you?'
Can it hurt me?'
Not here.'
All right then.'
She drew a T between our two circles. It followed closely behind the arthame, like a cat at an opening door. Then it swirled about me and touched me lightly on my hands and face. Its touch did not burn, but tingled, rather, as if I felt its vibrations directly instead of sensing them as heat. It flowed over my face. I was plunged into a world of light, like the heart of the aurora borealis. I was afraid to breathe at first, but finally had to. No harm came to me, though the tingling was increased.
It's an odd thing, but I have not had a single cold since the salamander touched me. I used to sniffle all winter.
Enough, enough,' I heard Mrs Jennings saying. The cloud of flame withdrew from me and returned to its circle. The musical discussion resumed, and they reached an agreement almost at once, for Mrs Jennings nodded with satisfaction and said:
Away with you then, fire child, and return when you are needed. Get hence-' She repeated the formula she had used on the gnome king.
The undine did not show up at once. Mrs Jennings took out her book again and read from it in a monotonous whisper. I was beginning to be a bit sleepy - the tent was stuffy - when the cat commenced to spit. It was glaring at the centre circle, claws out, back arched, and tail made big.
There was a shapeless something in that circle, a thing that dripped and spread its slimy moisture to the limit of the magic ring. It stank of fish and kelp and iodine, and shone with a wet phosphorescence.
You're late,' said Mrs Jennings. You got my message; why did you wait until I compelled you?'
It heaved with a sticky, sucking sound, but made no answer.
Very well,' she said firmly, I shan't argue with you. You know what I want. You will do it!' She stood up and grasped the big centre candle. Its flame flared up into a torch a yard high, and hot. She thrust it past her circle at the undine.
There was a hiss, as when water strikes hot iron, and a burbling scream. She jabbed at it again and again. At last she stopped and stared down at it, where it lay, quivering and drawing into itself. That will do,' she said. Next time you will heed your mistress. Get hence!' It seemed to sink into the ground, leaving the dust dry behind it.
When it was gone she motioned for us to enter her circle, breaking our own with the dagger to permit us. Seraphin jumped lightly from his little circle to the big one and rubbed against her ankles, buzzing loudly. She repeated a meaningless series of syllables and clapped her hands smartly together.
There was a rushing and roaring. The sides of the tent billowed and cracked. I heard the chuckle of water and the crackle of flames, and, through that, the bustle of hurrying footsteps. She looked from side to side, and wherever her gaze fell the wall of the tent became transparent. I got hurried glimpses of unintelligible confusion.
Then it all ceased with a suddenness that was startling. The silence rang in our ears. The tent was gone; we stood in the loading yard outside my main warehouse.
It was there! It was back - back unharmed, without a trace of damage by fire or water. I broke away and ran out the main gate to where my business office had faced on the street. It was there, just as it used to be, the show windows shining in the sun, the Rotary Club emblem in one corner, and up on the roof my big two-way sign:
ARCHIBALD FRASER
BUILDING MATERIALS & GENERAL CONTRACTING
Jedson strolled out presently and touched me on the arm. What are you bawling about, Archie?'
I stared at him. I wasn't aware that I had been.
We were doing business as usual on Monday morning. I thought everything was back to normal and that my troubles were over. I was too hasty in my optimism.
It was nothing you could put your finger on at first - just the ordinary vicissitudes of business, the little troubles that turn up in any line of work and slow up production. You expect them and charge them off to overhead. No one of them would be worth mentioning alone, except for one thing: they were happening too frequently.
You see, in any business run under a consistent management policy the losses due to unforeseen events should average out in the course of a year to about the same percentage of total cost. You allow for that in your estimates. But I started having so many small accidents and little difficulties that my margin of profit was eaten up.
One morning two of my trucks would not start. We could not find the trouble; I had to put them in the shop and rent a truck for the day to supplement my one remaining truck. We got our deliveries made, but I was out the truck rent, the repair bill, and four hours' overtime for drivers at time and a half. I had a net loss for the day.
The very next day I was just closing a deal with a man I had been trying to land for a couple of years. The deal was not important, but it would lead to a lot more business in the future, for he owned quite a bit of income property - some courts and an apartment house or two, several commercial corners, and held title or options on well-located lots all over town. He always had repair jobs to place and very frequently new building jobs. If I satisfied him, he would be a steady customer with prompt payment, the kind you can afford to deal with on a small margin of profit.
We were standing in the showroom just outside my office, and talking, having about reached an agreement. There was a display of Sunprufe paint about three feet from us, the cans stacked in a neat pyramid. I swear that neither one of us touched it, but it came crashing to the floor, making a din that would sour milk.
That was nuisance enough, but not the pay-off. The cover flew off one can, and my prospect was drenched with red paint. He let out a yelp; I thought he was going to faint. I managed to get him back into my office, where I dabbed futilely at his suit with my handkerchief, while trying to calm him down.
He was in a state, both mentally and physically. Fraser,' he raged, you've got to fire the clerk that knocked over those cans! Look at me! Eighty-five dollars' worth of suit ruined!'
Let's not be hasty,' I said soothingly, while holding my own temper in. I won't discharge a man to suit a customer, and don't like to be told to do so. There wasn't anyone near those cans but ourselves.'
I suppose you think I did it?'
Not at all. I know you didn't.' I straightened up, wiped my hands, and went over to my desk and got out my chequebook.
Then you must have done it!'
I don't think so,' I answered patiently. How much did you say your suit was worth?'
Why?'
I want to write you a cheque for the amount.' I was quite willing to; I did not feel to blame, but it had happened through no fault of his in my shop.
You can't get out of it as easily as that!' he answered unreasonably. It isn't the cost of the suit I mind-' He jammed his hat on his head and stumped out. I knew his reputation; I'd seen the last of him.