Algernon Blackwood by The Extra Day

Author:The Extra Day [Day, The Extra]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-11-15T13:25:18+00:00

CHAPTER XV. “A DAY WILL COME”

They went into the house as though wafted—thus does a shining

heart deduct bodily weight from life’s obstructions; they had their

tea; after tea they played games as usual, quite ordinary games; and

in due course they went to bed. That is, they followed a customary

routine, feeling it was safer. To do anything unusual just then might

attract attention to their infinite Discovery and so disturb its

delicate equilibrium. Its balance was precarious. Once an Authority

got wind of anything, the Extra Day might change its course and sail

into another port. Aunt Emily, even from a distance…! In any case,

they behaved with this intuitive sagacity which obviated every

risk—by taking none.

Yet everything was different. Behind the routine lay the potent

emphasis of some strange new factor, as though a lofty hope, a brave

ideal, had the power of transmuting common duties into gold and

crystal. This new factor pushed softly behind each little customary

act, urging what was commonplace over the edge into the marvellous.

The habitual became wonderful. It felt like Christmas Eve, like the

last night of the Old Year, like the day before the family moved for

the holidays to the sea—only more so. Even Tomorrow-will-be-Sunday

had entirely disappeared. A thrill of mysterious anticipation gilded

everything with wonder and beauty that were impossible, yet true. Some

Day, the Thing that Nobody could Understand—Somebody—was

coming at last.

Uncle Felix was in an extraordinary state; his acts were normal

enough, but his speech betrayed him shamefully; they had to warn him

more than once about it. He seemed unable to talk ordinary prose,

saying that “Everything ought to rhyme, At such a time,” and,

instead of walking like other people, his feet tried to keep in time

with his language. “But you don’t understand,” he replied to Tim’s

grave warnings; “you don’t understand what a gigantic discovery it is.

Why, the whole world will thank us! The whole world will get its

breath back! The one thing it’s always dreaded more than anything

else—being too late—will come to an end! We ought to dance and

sing—”

“Oh, please hush!” warned Judy. “Aunt Emily, you know—” Even at

Tunbridge Wells Aunt Emily might hear and send a telegram with No in

it.

“Has it lost its breath?” Tim asked, however. But, though it was in

the middle of tea, Uncle Felix could not restrain himself, and burst

into one of his ridiculous singing fits, instead of answering in a

whisper as he should have done. “Burst” described it accurately. And

his feet kept time beneath the table. It was the proper place for

Time, he explained.

The clocks are stopped, the calendars are wrong, Time holds

gigantic finger-hands Before his guilty face. Listen a moment! I can

hear the song That no one understands—

“It’s the blue dragon-fly,” interrupted Tim, remembering the story

of long ago.

“It’s the NightWind—out by day,” cried Judy.

“It’s both and neither,” sang the man,

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