When she had done this, she took out a folding deckchair, and with some difficulty, because of her trailing robe and the tied-on cushion, set it on the flat nose of the punt. Then she draped another towel over the chair and filled the seat with cushions. The remaining cushions she piled in the punt. Calidor, recovered from his sulks, happily chased the trailing cord of King Solomon’s robe. John could not resist tweaking a towel here, and a cushion there, to help arrange things. It really did look rather oriental, he thought. They were all so busy that they did not hear Dossy’s return.
‘Will I do?’ she said suddenly behind them.
They turned around.
Instead of putting on some old dress of her mother’s as Milly expected, she was wearing her new party frock. From its high waist the skirts, scattered with shining beads, fell in a blue cascade to her silver slippers. Her pale gold hair, loosened from its ponytail, fell on to her shoulders, and was held in place on the top of her head by a sparkling necklace of her mother’s, which she wore as a shimmering crown. A wide silver scarf pinned to her shoulders billowed behind her as she walked. Her pale cheeks were flushed.
‘Dossy! You are beautiful!’ said Milly in an awed voice.
Even John said to himself, ‘She doesn’t look half bad.’
Milly stood up and bowed as low as she could over the cushions.
‘Welcome, O Queen of Sheba!’ she said. ‘Your royal barge awaits you! Behold your throne!’
She waved, with dignity, toward the garden chair on the end of the punt.
The Queen of Sheba stepped carefully down, narrowly missing John as she landed.
Milly went on, ‘Now, you say, “O Solomon, live forever!”’
‘O Solomon, live forever!’ repeated Dossy obediently.
Solomon took the hand of the Queen of Sheba and, stumbling a little over her trailing robe, led her to the ‘throne’ on the end of the punt.
The Queen of Sheba sat down gingerly.
‘Now you say, “O King, I bring you precious gifts!”’ She paused. ‘Go on, say it!’
‘But I don’t. I haven’t brought anything to give you,’ said Dossy.
‘Well, give me the kitten then. You can pretend it isn’t an ordinary cat but some strange, rare animal.’
She bundled Calidor on to Dossy’s lap. His ruffled head appeared with a protesting ‘mew!’ among the blue folds of the party dress.
‘An ordinary cat indeed! Me, a kitten of the royal blood! I dare say –’ began Calidor. But John heard no more, for the Queen of Sheba bundled the ‘rare animal’ back again to King Solomon. In her anxiety lest he should catch his claws in the blue dress, she had not noticed that she was holding him upside down.
King Solomon turned to the imaginary oarsmen of the royal barge and waved imperiously, ‘To your oars, men, and row us to the Palace of a Thousand Jewels!’
Milly really did it very well, thought John, and quite carried away he pulled the painter free and gave a vigorous shove off. The punt shot out into the lake.
‘Whatever have you done?’ gasped Dossy.
Milly looked puzzled.
‘I didn’t do anything – I was only pretending. I didn’t really mean the barge to move. It must have been a current or something. But there’s no need to panic. We can punt ourselves back again.’
She looked for the pole.
‘I told you I wasn’t allowed to use the punt, and I shall get into frightful trouble for putting on my party frock as well!’ wailed Dossy. ‘And if Mother’s silver scarf gets splashed she’ll be simply furious. Perhaps if we get home quickly I can put the things back without anyone knowing!’
Milly looked up and her face was worried.
‘I’m awfully sorry. The punt pole isn’t here, or the paddles either!’ she said. ‘I don’t see how we can get back.’
Dossy burst into tears. ‘I think this is a beastly game. It’s all this silly pretending,’ she wailed.
‘It was rather queer, the barge sailing off when I told it to,’ said Milly uneasily.
John felt thoroughly uncomfortable. He would have liked to explain that it was all his fault and nothing to do with Milly’s pretending, but of course that was not possible.
The punt slowed down at last until it ceased to move. The little slapping waves beneath their bows grew fainter and fainter until they died away altogether.
‘It’s not really so bad,’ said Milly. ‘They’ll be sure to come and look for us soon. Let’s fill in time by playing something else. Oh, look, fish! Did you see that one leap right out, over there! Let’s pretend it’s an enchanted lake and that there is a sea serpent living in its fathomless depths!’
‘Oh, let’s not!’ sniffed Dossy, looking round nervously. She was still sitting huddled in the throne on the end of the punt. The shadows of the trees were lengthening over the lake. Suddenly a fish leaped from the water so near that Dossy, who was thinking uneasily of sea serpents, gave a startled gasp and jumped to her feet, pushing the chair back as she did so. Milly made a grab to stop it falling overboard, but catching her foot in her trailing robe, she lurched and fell heavily against Dossy, who gave a piercing shriek. For a moment they tottered on the edge together, then with a tremendous splash the two girls, and the chair, fell into the water. The punt lurched dangerously.
‘Out of the way!’ said John to Calidor, who was peering over with great interest. ‘Dossy can’t swim – I’m going in after her!’
There was a splash which showered the watching kitten, and a sudden cleft in the water which showed where John must have dived. Calidor could see the Queen of Sheba’s throne bobbing up and down half out of the water, accompanied by three sodden cushions. Then Milly’s spluttering head appeared above the surface.
‘It’s all right, Dossy, it’s not deep!’ she gasped, looking anxiously around. She was relieved to see Dossy’s head appear, but only long enough to let out another shriek before it disappeared again.
Milly paddled frantically toward the widening circle of ripples which showed where Dossy had surfaced; and then a curious sight made her draw up and tread water. Dossy’s head had come to the surface again, and apparently with nothing to account for it, a series of small splashes, followed by what looked like a miniature tidal wave bore down upon her. Milly, of course, had no idea that it was caused by the swimming of the invisible John. She was only aware that the steadily screaming Dossy rose half out of the water, made her way back to the punt without showing any signs of swimming and, as though pushed up by some submarine volcano, rose in a surge of foam and tumbled on to the floor of the Swallow.
Milly had no time to wonder. She was hanging on to the edge of the punt by now. She had managed to rid herself of the hampering folds of the bathing gown, but with the waterlogged cushion still tied to her waist, she had not the strength to pull herself up.
‘Help!’ she called forlornly, and as though in response something seemed to give her a great heave from below, and she fell thankfully beside Dossy in the bottom of the punt. For a minute she lay there panting, then slowly she sat up. Dossy lay sobbing in a pool of water. The party frock was ruined, its sodden folds streaked with water weed. The shining crown was gone and the silver scarf lay torn and muddy beside her.
‘It’s all your fault, Milly!’ she sobbed. ‘First you pretended the boat was going to move, and it did. Then you pretended the lake was enchanted, and it was. It must be. I felt someone lift me up and push me into the punt, and there wasn’t anyone there at all. Well, you’d better pretend somebody to push us back to the steps or we shall both die from double pneumonia!’ Dossy lay down and cried again.