# Blue Magic/Chapter 6

CHAPTER VI
THE LAST EVENING
LARRY was fast asleep, as usual, when Fen, who was still quite awake, heard a faint sound outside the port-hole and lay rigid with expectancy. The sound continued,—a queer little scratchy noise, as though something were trying to creep up the side of the yacht,—till suddenly a squarish, dark object appeared on the edge of the port-hole, against the pale circle of sky. It poised there for a moment, and then tumbled softly on to the bed. Fen reached for it eagerly, and found that it was a very small box made of dark wood, studded with bosses of brass here and there, and fastened with a small clasp. Fen's hand trembled a little as he opened the box and peered into it. A faint, musty ​smell, like long-dried rose-leaves, came from it, and at first he could see nothing. Then he saw, wrapped in wisps of dry grass, a little figure, blue with the matchless glaze of ancient Egypt—the figure of a seated man, a man with a bird's head, and hands resting on his knees. Fen gazed at it, breathless with wonder, while the dusk deepened and the blue glimmered more and more faintly. Then it was too dark to see at all, and Fen carefully wrapped the mysterious little image in the dry Nile grass and laid it in the brass-bound box. He put it under his pillow, and fell asleep with his cheek against the uncomfortable bump that it made.
Every one was ready to go ashore, and the launch puffed alongside. Sally was very busy putting two picnic-baskets into it. Fen's mother spoke to him as she pinned on her hat.
​"As this is the last night, you know. Father wanted to do something special. They say it's so pretty by moonlight—but we'll be back before it's very late, on account of the children. I've told Mammy to give you your supper and to put you to bed early." She kissed him rather apologetically.
"You don't mind very much, do you, dear?"
Fen smiled. "Of course not," he said. "I hope it'll be nice."
Though she was his mother, she could not see behind the brave smile in his eyes, and his cheerful answer left her quite content as she descended to the launch.
Mammy, after making sure that Fen needed nothing, hastened below. Mammy did not at all approve of Egypt.
When the launch had disappeared and all was quiet. Fen drew from under the pillows the little box, which he had ​smuggled there that morning. Carefully taking the blue image from its grass wrapgings, he held it in one hand, the amulet in the other, as though he half expected some magic to happen through their combined power. Though he held them for a long time, nothing at all did happen, and finally, what with the heat and the utter stillness of everything, he fell asleep, quite without meaning to. He woke with a start to find that the blue figure had slipped from his hand and lay on the deck with its head broken cleanly from its shoulders. Fen gazed at it silently, unable at first to believe that the precious thing which had come so mysteriously in at the port-hole now lay in two pieces, broken, and that he had broken it. Then he buried his face suddenly in the pillow and sobbed bitterly.
A strong arm came round him all at once, and, before he quite realized it, he found himself hiding his face on a ​blue-robed shoulder. He put his arms around the D jinn's neck.
Presently Siddereticus said, "I will take him away with me and make him quite whole."
Fen sighed shakily.
"Oh, can you?" he said, "I was so m-miserable! I loved him so, an' I was holding him, to make a m-magic happen, an' I went to sleep, and when I woked up he was b-b-broken. But the amulet magic did work," he added, "'cause you came." He smiled a little.
"Ah," said Siddereticus, "you're not so miserable now? When our little blue person is whole again, I'll tell you who he is and all about him. Is it awfully uncomfortable to have me hold you like this?"
Fen shook his head. "Please," he said, "I like it; it—it's different. Oh, I'm so glad the amulet made you come. I want you to tell me how you made him come in ​at my port-hole in the night. How did he know which port-hole? How did he know my bed was there?"
Siddereticus smiled inscrutably.
"Ah!" said he, nor could he be made to say another word on the subject.
"I knew there was something very important to tell you," said Fen, presently. "We're going away to-morrow."
"What!" cried the Djinn.
"Yes," said Fen, sadly; "we're going back down the Nile, an' then we're going to Venice, an' then to Cap—Cap—something—what's its name?"
"Capri?" suggested Siddereticus.
"Yes, that's it—Capri! to get my auntie, who's been there ever so long, painting pictures—an' oh, sha'n't I ever see you again?"
Siddereticus studied the river bank thoughtfully.
"Well," said he, "I haven't a magic ​carpet, but I have other means of travel, and I shouldn't wonder if you'd see me again some day—though I make no promises, mind!"
The sun was beginning to set; the broad surface of the Nile lay like a smooth sheet of gold, and the dahabiyeh sails made rosy flecks upon it.
"Nearly tea-time," said Siddereticus.
"Yes," sighed Fen. "I suppose Mammy will be bringing mine in a few minutes."
"Oh, then I shall have to vanish," said the Djinn, as he put Fen carefully into the deck-chair.
"Oh, no, no!" cried the little boy. "Oh, why did I say that! Please, please don't! Everybody has gone ashore for a picnic, an' it'll only be me here alone, an' surely just Mammy won't make you vanish. Oh, please stay an' have tea with me!"
He clutched the amulet desperately, but ​Siddereticus disappeared behind the chair and was lost to his view.
"Y-you didn't even say g-good-by!" wailed Fen.
There was a faint clink and a rustle, and when Fen raised his head from the pillows, where he had buried his face in despair, what he saw made him gasp with delight.
Close behind his chair stood a squat little teak-wood table, curiously carved, and spread with a white cloth. On it were set out two queer, tiny cups, with no handles, two silver spoons that had odd figures carved in the bowls, a plate of thin sandwiches, and some dates and figs lying on green leaves. There was also a little fat green jug of milk and a copper kettle on a stand, over which Siddereticus was bending with a match in his hand. Fen could only murmur, "Oh, Oh!" but his face was utterly radiant.
​Just then there was the sound of a heavy footstep on the deck, and a terror-stricken voice cried out:
"Oh, lan's sakes! Oh, Lawdy, Lawdy! One ob dem heathen men! Hyah, you! git out ob here! Did n' I allus says dis was a onnatchel lan'? Oh, Massa Fen! honey chile, doan' let dat air E-gypshun critter tech you!"
"It's all right, Mammy," said Fen. "This is a—a friend of mine. Please go away."
Siddereticus, who had been stooping over the spirit-lamp, the red glow of it on his lean, bronzed face and crimson fez, stood suddenly erect and pointed a terrifying finger at Mammy, who remained motionless at the companionway, a tray in her hands.
"Leave us in peace, woman!" he cried.
"She's disposed of," said Siddereticus, as he bent once more to the troublesome alcohol lamp.
"Did you really magic her?" asked Fen, solemnly. "Will it hurt her?"
"Not in the least, I assure you," said the Djinn. "Ha! The lamp's all right now; as soon as the water is boiled, we'll have our cambric tea. You're not to talk, because you're tired,—yes, you are! don't contradict a Djinn, ever; something might happen,—so I'll sing to you, a queer little song, while the kettle boils."
He was seated cross-legged on the deck, and as he sang, he swayed a little from side to side, crooning this strange, wild air:
"I like it," said Fen, when Siddereticus had stopped. "It makes me feel prickles. What does it mean, is it magic?"
"Not exactly," said the Djinn, "though parts of it do sound a little magicky. People sing it in Smyrna, and—well, it means something like this: 'Sleep, my precious child, my beautiful, and dream softly. I will make Cairo for thee in rice and give to thee; all Alexandria in sweetest sugar. Cairo in rice, in honey all the Nile, and for thee, Constantinople, too, and there shalt thou reign for three years.'"
"How queer and nice!" said Fen. "It must be magic! And it's all about the Nile too, and places here, so it surely is. Please do it again—do you mind?"
He did not mind, and sang it again.
The kettle began to sing just as Siddereticus stopped, and he made the tea—very weak and almost all milk for Fen, ​and very strong and entirely tea for himself.
"Wait!" he commanded, as Fen raised the cup. "We must drink three times—the mystic, ancient ceremony. Touch your cup to mine—'salaam, Effendi, may it benefit you!'—say it, Fen."
Siddereticus took a sip of tea and extended his cup again. Thrice they executed the solemn rite. Fen repeating, "Salaam, Effendi, may it benefit you!" in awestruck tones.
The sandwiches were delicious. They had something in them that Fen had never before tasted, but Siddereticus would not tell him what it was. When the tea was finished and they were eating figs, and the Djinn had lit a cigarette, Mammy appeared, poking her head cautiously around the corner of the deck-house.
"Please do go away. Mammy!" begged Fen. "We don't need you at all, because ​I've had my tea, and this—this gentleman will carry me down to bed—that is—I mean—will you, Siddereticus? If you don't mind awfully?" he added, looking inquiringly at the Djinn.
"Certainly I'll carry you, anywhere you ask—to the ends of the earth, if need be," said he, and, turning to Mammy, cried:
"Hence! Be off! Do not let me have to command thee thrice! Depart! Go in peace, O Daughter of Senegambia!"
"Lawsy!" muttered Mammy, as she retreated, looking fearfully over her shoulder. "Whut he mean by daughter ob Sunny Gammy, I dunno. Pappy's name was G'o'ge Washin'ton Johnson."
A few stars were beginning to appear in the sky, which had grown dark very suddenly after the sunset, and a luminous glow far down in the east showed where the moon was rising.
​"When the rim of the moon comes up from the Nile and makes a pathway of silver upon the waters, then must you go to bed," said Siddereticus.
"Did you know," he went on, "that when Horus, the Sun-god, the Beautiful, has passed through the skies in the blazing Boat of the Sun and has come to the end of his journey, then his wife Athor, who is the golden sky of the West, stretches her arms to him and embraces him, and together they sink beneath the waters to the Land of Spirits. Then comes Maut, the Mother-goddess—the deep night sky—to spread her cool veil over all this hot desert-land. Do you see? She is all about us now, big and tender and comforting; the stars are her eyes, watching to see that all is well with her children. She it is who soothes us into sleeping; the little drowsy night-noises are her lullaby; she it is who even now is making your eyelids ​droop, my Fen—and see! there is the moon, Maut's lamp, lighting her a pathway across the waters."
Fen snuggled happily into the strong arms that lifted him so gently, and he was almost asleep when Siddereticus laid him quietly on his bed.
"Good night. Fen Effendi, good night," whispered the Djinn, "Maut is watching over you, with eyes that will not close till Sate, the pale morning sky of the East, waits for the coming of the Sun-god."
He kissed Fen's cheek, laid his hand for an instant on the bright hair, and vanished with a faint swirl of his gown. Fen fell happily asleep while Mammy was putting him to bed, and did not remember that they would sail at seven the next morning and that he would not see his beloved Djinn again.