: 3 - A Castle And Two Houses
Will puts two crystal marbles to his eyes, and the world becomes a shimmering, trembling place. Through the marbles, the jungle that had been before him was folding away, melting, and in its place lay smooth green grass… He is about to enter a magical place.
Mary and Brian Tattersfield’s wonderfully illustrated children’s story creates up a stay-forever-in-the-memory-for-ever wonderland.
The Whitley Marble is published by Sarisberie Publishing, The Street, West Clandon, Surrey, GU4 2ST, England. To read how the book came to be written, and the first two sections of the story, click on The Whitley Marble in the menu on this page.
After he had rubbed it up he could see it even had the funny tunnel running through it. He took his own out of his pocket and compared them. They glowed in his hands, flawless and beautiful.
From habit, he put them up to his eyes both together – just in case. . . and found he couldn’t take them away. Will’s world became a shimmering, trembling place. Through the marbles, the jungle that had been before him was folding away, melting, and in its place lay smooth green grass.
Right in the middle stood a tiny, perfect castle, but no sooner had Will realised what it was, than another building took its place. Wasn’t that a Tudor house like the one in his school history book?
Then again shapes and colours shifted about, and a stone house appeared – small at first, then slowly getting bigger until it became the huge golden shape of his own house.
His very own magic house that his crystal marble had conjured up so far away across the valley. But now he stood before it, and for some reason he wasn’t at all surprised to find that it stayed where it was when he lowered the marbles away from his eyes. The tall front door was ajar and inviting. . .
Two bright black eyes stared back at him out of the darkness of the hall. Going from the sunshine into the dimness had made him blind for a moment, and Will went rigid with fright. Just two black eyes – which blinked.
The door shut behind him. After a moment Will saw the eyes belonged to a little man, no taller than he, richly dressed in gold patterned silk, with a turban around his head. His skin was a glossy ebony, and indeed he shone all over, just like the polished top of his mother’s dining table. And sure enough his neat little feet were held fast on a golden pedestal. He was made of wood!
But just as Will breathed a sigh of relief, there was a soft whooshing sound, and the little figure had bent sideways and was gesturing into the dark house with his shiny hand.
When Will finally managed to move his eyes along the hand, he saw that it was pointing down a long, glass covered corridor lined with statues.
When the little man’s white teeth gleamed at him in a dark smile, Will found himself suddenly able to move with the speed of a rocket towards the corridor. His marbles clanked loudly in his pocket.
The statues seemed to be watching him, and so did somebody else! A round, smiling face peeped at him from the base of one of the figures. “Hallo Will,” it called cheerfully, and disappeared behind another figure, from where it called out again. “Have you come to play, Will?”
Will tried to catch up with it, but always, he would just get near enough to catch a glimpse, and it would vanish round another statue. At first he thought it was a boy about his own age, with a bright red jacket on, and then it seemed to be a girl with bouncing curls.
“Stop a minute,” cried Will, very out of breath. “Tell me who you are, and what this place is called. Oh, do keep still a bit!” he called, exasperated. But he was just in time to see the two of them, for there were two all the time, skipping out of the end door. “Come on Will! Good old Will! Have you brought your marbles, Will!” And they were gone.
