Free The Box of Delights by John Masefield Page A

you caught sight of at the inn. If I hand that to you, Master Kay, will you keep it for me, so that they don’t get it?’
    ‘Of course,’ Kay said, ‘I’ll keep anything for you that you want kept, but, if you are in danger from anybody, go to the magistrates; they’ll defend you.’
    ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘the magistrates don’t heed the kind of wolf that’s after me. This, Master Kay, is the little Box, and there are three things I must tell you about
it: you open it like this; if you push this to the right you can go small; if you press it to the left you can go swift. I’ve not had this long, Master Kay; it is Master Arnold’s, not
mine; and though I’ve sought for him and called him, I have not found nor been heard. He’s gone a long way back, Master Arnold has.
    ‘If I had time, Master Kay, I might best the wolves. But they run me close, with this New Magic, which I can’t guard myself against. Going swift and going small will save you,
you’ll find; you’re young. But they won’t save me, Master Kay, not any more, for I’m old now, and only know the Old Magic. Now, will you keep this for me till I’m able
to claim it, if I ever may be able, or till old Master Arnold can come back for it?’
    ‘I will indeed,’ Kay said.
    ‘And, if they put me to an end, Master Kay, as perhaps they will, then you are to keep it till old Master Arnold comes; but above all things, keep it from coming to them. Will you do
that?’
    ‘If I possibly can, I will, of course. But who is this Master Arnold and how shall I know him?’ Kay said.
    ‘You’ll know him if he comes,’ the old man answered, ‘for he’ll come right out of the Old Time.
    ‘Now, one other thing. If you and your friend, Master Peter, would come out this way towards dawn, you may see what comes to me. And now, good fortune, Master Kay, and I hope that
I’ll come back for this Box of Delights before so very long and give it to Master Arnold in person.’ He handed Kay the little black, shiny box. Kay had seen one or two of the old men in
the village with tobacco boxes that looked like it. ‘Put it in your inner pocket,’ the old man said.
    He was about to put it into his pocket, when somebody thrust a big gorse bush into the fire. It flared up with a blaze and crackle. Instantly, the cattle and the tribesmen had disappeared. Kay
seemed to be alone in a glare of light, surrounded by a ring of wolves all snarling at him and glaring with red eyes.
    ‘Never heed them,’ the little old man’s voice said from far away. ‘Press it to the left and go swift.’
    He had the box in his breast pocket with his hand still upon it. He pressed the catch to the left, and in a flash, he was plucked up into the air away from the wolves and the hillside, and there
he was, rather out of breath, in his bed at Seekings, with Peter sitting up in the bed opposite, saying, ‘I say, Kay, what are you doing? Haven’t you gone yet? What’s the
time?’
    ‘Quarter to one,’ Kay said.
    ‘Uh,’ said Peter with a growl, rolling over.

 

Chapter IV
    K ay put the little box under his pillow, and was soon asleep again. He dreamed of wolves padding on the snow after the Punch and Judy man. At six
o’clock he woke again, and heard the bells chiming for the hour. What with the moonlight and the snow-blink, there was light enough in the room for him to see the Box with its old, worn,
shiny, shagreen cover, and magic knob upon it. ‘He said I must go out towards the Camp at dawn with Peter,’ he muttered. ‘I must do that.’ He waited for another twenty
minutes, and then called to Peter: ‘I say, Peter, wake up. Let’s go out and explore.’
    ‘Explore what?’ Peter growled. ‘What d’you expect to find – mushrooms, may I ask?’
    ‘Oh, don’t come if you’d rather not,’ Kay said, ‘but it’s always rather fun being out in the fresh snow, and seeing all the animals’ tracks.’
    ‘But to get up before it’s light on the first day of the