Bedknobs & Broomsticks (Extended Version) - Scene #12 - Visit to Bookman

Описание: The children clutched the foot of the bed and pulled. Emelius and the bewildered knife-wielder went to the head and pushed. Doubtful about the entire affair, Miss Price walked alongside, with her book under her arm.

They were halfway down the street when the thug stopped pushing and leaned on the bed. “Tell me,” he said, “why am I pushing this here blinking bed?”

“Because, my spiv friend,” said Emelius, “as I have already explained to you, this bed was once the property of the Duke of Wellington.”

“So?”

“So…er…you do have a name, I assume.”

“It’s Swinburne.”

“Very well, Swinburne. I will explain it to you. I wish to give the bed to The Bookman as a present. Even you can see that it is very valuable. Now, if you don’t want The Bookman to have such a fine gift…”

Emelius left the thought unfinished. Swinburne hastily decided that he did; he wanted to have the bed. “I’ll push it!” he promised. “I’ll push the blasted thing!”

Push He pushed it the street, around the corner, and up to the entrance of a grubby little shop with dead flies and several cobwebs in the window.

Swinburne approached the foot of the bed and unlocked the shop door. Then he helped Emelius maneuver the bed into the shop. Miss Price and the children trailed after the bed, into a dank cavern piled high with worn books, outdated magazines, and old manuscripts. Swinburne picked his way past piles of papers to the book of the shop, where he rapped on a pair of double doors.

“Who is it?” called a cracked voice behind the doors.

“I brought the woman,” said Swinburne. “And his as well.”

“Send them in! Send them in!”

Swinburne turned to Emelius. “In you go!” he ordered.

“Charlie?” said Emelius. “Carrie? Paul?”

“Right!” cried Charlie. “In we go!”

At that, all three children pushed mightily against the bed. It rolled forward, scattering books and gaining speed as it came. Swinburne yelped and leaped aside. The bed crashed against the double doors, and they burst open. There was a terrible clatter, a thumping, a bumping, and a dreadful crash.

“Gracious!” exclaimed Miss Price.

The children and Emelius crowded to the doorway and found themselves looking down a short flight of steps into a basement room. The late Major Price’s bed, stubbornly intact, stood at the foot of the stairs. A bearded old man with a face like a cynical eagle was seated at a table beyond the bed. He put a pair of rimless glasses astride his hooked nose and, with mild interest, looked up at the children and Miss Price and Emelius. Seeing the cold and careful eyes, Charlie thought not of eagles but of a cobra he had once encountered on a visit to the zoo.

“Sorry, guv,” said Charlie quickly. “No one told us about the stairs.”

The old man ignored Charlie and turned his bleak gaze on the unfortunate Swinburne. When he spoke, his voice was as chilly as his eyes. “Why didn’t you just bring Scotland Yard and half the Household Cavalry as well?” he asked. “What’s the bed for?”

“A present for you, Bookman,” said Swinburne, starting down the stairs to the basement room.

Miss Price fell in quickly behind Swinburne. “Nothing of the sort,” she said. “The bed belongs to me.”

“Except for this knob!” Paul held the magic bedknob up for inspection. “This is mine!”

Emelius came down and put his hand on the head of the bed. “Be that as it may, Bookman,” he said, “there’s been bad blood between us long enough. May this gift begin our friendship anew.”

Miss Price gasped. The audacity of the man! How dare he give her father’s bed to this horrid old man? But then Miss Price recalled Swinburne’s knife, and she decided that she would hold her tongue. Mr. Browne was, without doubt, more experienced in dealing with such unpleasant people.

“Bolt the door and draw the curtains,” said The Bookman to Swinburne.

Swinburne vanished from the basement for a few moments. The sound of locks clicking and bolts being shot home came to Miss Price’s ears. She heard curtain rings rattle on rods, and then Swinburne was back. “Right, guv,” he said. “Sung as a bug now.”

The Bookman leaned back in his chair, and for the first time, Miss Price saw what he had on the table in front of him. “Mr. Browne, look there!” she cried. “Could that be the section of the manuscript we’re looking for?”

“Who is this woman?” The Bookman asked Emelius.

“A charming lady of my acquaintance,” said Emelius airily. “Miss Eglantine Price.”

The Bookman’s eyes gleamed with icy fire. The eagle's head nodded. “Miss Price, I have been looking for the other part of this manuscript for a long time. Swinburne here. I saw you in the market today making inquiries. So here we are! I don’t mind saying there isn’t much I wouldn’t do to see my book all together again.”

“Ain’t much you haven’t done, for that matter,” put in Swinburne.

“Swinburne, close your mouth,” said The Bookman. “If I ever decide I want it open again, I will inform you. Is that clear?”