The Magic Faraway Tree

8.How can they escape?

Moon-Face looked all round the room at the top of the tower. "Well, we're in a fix now," he said gloomily. "It's no use going downstairs again, we should find the door at the bottom locked. And what's the good of a window that is half a mile from the ground!"

Joe looked out of the window. "GOSH!"he said, "the tower is so tall! I can hardly see the bottom of it. Hello, there's the enchanter going off in his carriage. I suppose he is going to fetch his friend, dear wizard Willy."

"I don't like the sound of wizard Willy," said Silky. "Joe, Rick, Moon-face please, please think of some way to escape!"

But there really wasn't any way. No one wanted to jump out of the window.

They all sat down. "I'm very hungry," said Beth. "Has anyone got anything to eat?"

"I may have some pop cakes," said Moon-Face, feeling in his pockets. But he doesn't. "feel in your pockets, then."

They all felt in their pockets, hoping to find a bit of toffee or chocolate. Rick brought out a collection of string, bits of paper, a pencil and a few marbles. Joe took out much the same kind of things, but with his bits came a pink jar, very small and heavy.

"What's in the jar?" asked Beth, who hadn't seen it before. "Isn't it pretty!"

"Let me see, what can it be?" wondered Joe, as he unscrewed the lid. "Oh, I know. we saw a witch selling whizz-away ointment for broomsticks in the land of spells, and I thought it would be fun to rub some on mother's broomsticks and see it fly through the air. So we bought some. Smell it, it's delicious."

Everyone smelt it. Moon-face suddenly got very excited. "I say," he began. "I say oh, I say!"

"Well, say then!" said Joe. "What's the matter?"

"Oh, I SAY!" said Moon-face, stammering all the more. "Listen! If only we could get a broomstick, we could rub this pink ointment on it, and fly away on the broomsticks!"

"Moon-Face, that's a very good idea, if only we had a broomstick, but we haven't!" said Joe. "Look at this room, a table and a bench, no sign of a broomstick at all!"

"I'll run downstairs and see if I can find one," said Moon-face, getting all excited. "I saw some standing in a corner of the room we were in. I'll do my best anyway!"

"Good old Moon-face!" said everyone, as they watched the round-faced little man scurry down hundreds of steps. "If only he gets a broomstick!"

Moon-face hurried down and down. It seemed such a very long way. At last, he came to the very bottom of the stairs. An enormous wooden door was at the bottom, shut tight. Moon-face tried to open it, but he couldn't. So he banged on the door loudly.

A surprised voice called out: "hey, there! What are you banging on the door for? What do you want?"

"A broomstick!" said Moon-face loudly.

"A broomstick!" said the voice, more astonished than ever. "What for?"

"To sweep up some crumbs!" said Moon-Face, quite untruthfully.

"A dust pan and a brush will do for that!" cried the voice, and opened a crack. A dust pan and a brush shot out with a clatter and came to rest by Moon-face's feet. Then the door shut with a bang and was bolted at the other side.

"A dust pan and a brush!" said Moon-Face in disgust. He banged on the door again.

"Now what's the matter?" yelled the voice angrily.

"These won't do," said Moon-face. "I want a broomstick!"

"Well, go on wanting," said the voice. "You won't get one. I suppose you think you'll fly away on one if I give it to you. I'm not quite so silly as that. What do you suppose the enchanter would say to me when he came back if I'd given you one of his broomsticks to escape on?"