Wet Magic
"It isn't. It's not my game at all, and I don't want to play. And if I do, the whole thing will be muffed—you know it will. I'm so unlucky. You'd never get out at dead of night without me dropping a boot on the stairs or sneezing—you know you wouldn't."
Bernard took a sort of melancholy pride in being the kind of boy who always gets caught. If you are that sort of boy, perhaps that's the best way to take it. And Francis could not deny that there was something in what he said. He went on: "Then Kathleen's my special sister and I'm not going to have her dragged into a row. ("I want to," Kathleen put in ungratefully.) So will you and Mavis do it on your own or not?"
After some discussion, in which Kathleen was tactfully dealt with, it was agreed that they would. Then Bernard unfolded his plan of campaign.
"Directly we get home," he said, "we'll begin larking about with that old wheelbarrow—giving each other rides, and so on, and when it's time to go in we'll leave it at the far end of the field behind the old sheep hut near the gate. Then it'll be handy for you at dead of night. You must take towels or something and tie around the wheel so that it doesn't make a row. You can sleep with my toy alarm under your pillow and it won't wake anyone but you. You get out through the dining room window and in the same way. I'll lend you my new knife, with three blades and a corkscrew, if you'll take care of it, to cut the canvas, and go by the back lane that comes out behind where the circus is, but if you took my advice you wouldn't go at all. She's not a nice Mermaid at all. I'd rather have had a seal, any day. Hullo, there's Daddy and Mother. Come on."
They came on.
The program sketched by Bernard was carried out without a hitch. Everything went well, only Francis and Mavis were both
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