Catweazle

Catweazle looked at him with contempt
and, drawing Adamcos, climbed up into the blackness.
    ‘Wouldn’t
you like the torch?’ Carrot called. ‘There’s a sort of foothold if you want to
go higher.’
    There
was no reply and presently a few loose bits of rubble began to fall as
Catweazle searched in the darkness above.
    ‘Do be
careful,’ said Carrot.
    ‘ ’Tis
here!’ a muffled voice said suddenly.! have found the stone!’
    ‘Hang
on,’ said Carrot excitedly and he ran into the kitchen to fetch a hammer and
chisel. He was still rummaging in the tool-box when Sam came in from the yard.
    ‘Hullo,
Carrot,’ he said, ‘where’s the steps?’
    ‘Er ...
I need them,’ said Carrot.
    ‘So do
I,’ said Sam seeing them in the chimney, and before Carrot could stop him, he
picked them up and marched out.
    ‘You’d
better come down quick,’ Carrot whispered up the chimney.
    There
was a rumbling noise, and Catweazle came crashing down into the fireplace. A
moment later, he disappeared under an avalanche of soot.
    ‘I
didn’t mean that quick,’ said Carrot.
    ‘No
soot! No soot!’ said Catweazle rising from the debris. ‘I am like
Shedbarshemoth, the black Demon of the moon.’ He handed a lump of stone to
Carrot. ‘Here, take the accursed thing,’ he said.
    ‘You
sure this is it?’ asked Carrot.
    Catweazle
looked as if he might explode.
    ‘All
right,’ said the boy quickly, ‘let’s give it a wash. Better give you one as
well,’ he added.
    As they
washed the stone at the sink, they could see Sam in the distance, repairing the
fence on the other side of the yard.
    ‘You’re
right,’ said Carrot, rubbing off the dirt, ‘It has got an eye.’ The stone also
had part of a nose and mouth too. Something about it was vaguely familiar.
‘It’s jolly °ld,’ said Carrot.
    ‘One in
the water,’ muttered the sooty figure beside him.
    ‘In the
water,’ Carrot repeated. ‘What does he mean by that?’
    Catweazle’s
eyes shone through the grime on his face.
    ‘Hast
thou a well?’ he said.
    The
well was on the far side of the house and no longer in use. Chicken-wire had been
nailed over the top but the rusty chain was still round the roller. Tearing the
wire away, Carrot looked in.
    ‘Looks
a long way down, but there’s only mud at the bottom.’ He turned to Catweazle,
‘Sure you’ll be all right?’
    ‘ I am not going down,’ Catweazle said firmly. Carrot swung the bucket over the low
wall, ‘Climb in,’ he said.
    ‘Nay,’
said Catweazle, ‘I have the bone-ache.’
    ‘What
shall I turn you into?’ said Carrot, looking thoughtfully at the magician.
    ‘I will
go! I will go!’ said Catweazle, terrified of the young sorcerer.
    While
Carrot held the handle steady, Catweazle swung his legs over the low wall, and,
hooking the bucket to the side, he managed to get both feet in it. Then,
holding on to the chain, he swung out over the well as Carrot began to wind him
down.
    ‘Slowly!
Thou devil’s hiccup!’ warned Catweazle as he descended. Carrot turned the
handle more slowly, ‘Seen anything yet?’ he asked.
    Catweazle’s
voice echoed up, ‘Not yet,’ he called. Carrot continued to lower the magician.
    ‘Wait!’
said Catweazle.
    ‘What?’
said Carrot and let go of the handle. With a great rattling it spun round as
the rest of the chain paid out. There was a crash and then silence. Carrot was
horrified.
    ‘Catweazle!’
he called, but there was no reply. ‘Catweazle!!’
    A croak
came floating up from the bottom of the well.
    ‘Touchwood!’
asked Carrot anxiously, ‘is he all right?’
    ‘Thou
maggot!’ an infuriated voice replied, and Carrot breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I
thought you were dead,’ he said.
    A
stream of abuse rose from the bottom of the well. It was obvious Catweazle had
suffered no damage.
    ‘Can
you see the stone?’ Carrot interrupted.
    ‘Many
little stars, but no stone.’
    ‘Well
it must be down there somewhere. Don’t give up.’
    There
was a long silence from the bottom of the well and then finally Catweazle
called once more, ‘I am weary. Lift me up.’
    ‘But
we’ve got to find it, Catweazle.’
    ‘I am
cold, thou wood-louse. Lift me.’
    ‘Oh,
all right,’ said Carrot, very disappointed. ‘Get in the bucket.’
    He
began to haul him up. The chain creaked as Catweazle slowly came into view. He
was dirtier than ever. As well as the dust from the museum and the soot from
the chimney, he now had a liberal coating of mud. He climbed