And time slipped by, the music rose, fell, ceased; the moonbeam crept
towards his face. Little Jon turned in his sleep till he lay on his
back, with one brown fist still grasping the bedclothes. The corners
of his eyes twitched--he had begun to dream. He dreamed he was drinking
milk out of a pan that was the moon, opposite a great black cat which
watched him with a funny smile like his father's. He heard it whisper:
"Don't drink too much!" It was the cat's milk, of course, and he put out
his hand amicably to stroke the creature; but it was no longer there;
the pan had become a bed, in which he was lying, and when he tried to
get out he couldn't find the edge; he couldn't find it--he--he--couldn't
get out! It was dreadful!
He whimpered in his sleep. The bed had begun to go round too; it was
outside him and inside him; going round and round, and getting fiery,
and Mother Lee out of Cast up by the Sea was stirring it! Oh! so
horrible she looked! Faster and faster!--till he and the bed and Mother
Lee and the moon and the cat were all one wheel going round and round
and up and up--awful--awful--awful!
He shrieked.
A voice saying: "Darling, darling!" got through the wheel, and he awoke,
standing on his bed, with his eyes wide open.
There was his mother, with her hair like Guinevere's, and, clutching
her, he buried his face in it.
"Oh! oh!"
"It's all right, treasure. You're awake now. There! There! It's
nothing!"
But little Jon continued to say: "Oh! oh!"
Her voice went on, velvety in his ear:
"It was the moonlight, sweetheart, coming on your face."
Little Jon burbled into her nightgown
"You said it was beautiful. Oh!"
"Not to sleep in, Jon. Who let it in? Did you draw the curtains?"
"I wanted to see the time; I--I looked out, I--I heard you playing,
Mum; I--I ate my macaroon." But he was growing slowly comforted; and the
instinct to excuse his fear revived within him.
"Mother Lee went round in me and got all fiery," he mumbled.
"Well, Jon, what can you expect if you eat macaroons after you've gone
to bed?"
"Only one, Mum; it made the music ever so more beautiful. I was waiting
for you--I nearly thought it was to-morrow."
"My ducky, it's only just eleven now."
Little Jon was silent, rubbing his nose on her neck.
"Mum, is Daddy in your room?"
"Not to-night."
"Can I come?"
"If you wish, my precious."
Half himself again, little Jon drew back.