ood lad!" he said. "I know that you can learn. For you
it will not be hard."

"There's just one thing," Chris said, with puzzlement in his voice.
"You say, sir, 'Seize the Tree.' That means just stealing it? Must we
do that?"

Mr. Wicker looked at Chris and his face was serene and smooth with the
great satisfaction of his feelings.

"You are the lad for me!" he cried, and Chris felt himself coloring
with pleasure at the tone of Mr. Wicker's voice. "I knew it from the
first! It _would_ be stealing, boy, but for one thing. When--and
heaven willing, if--you reach the Tree, you will break a branch from
it and stick it in the ground. It will root itself and grow and
thrive, and the Princess will still have delicate jewel flowers for
her hair."

"And now," he said, "I smell a broiling chicken. Off you go and eat
your lunch, and later we shall talk again."

Chris went out smiling.

CHAPTER 9

In the kitchen, Chris leaned against the corner of the passage and
kitchen wall to watch Becky at her tasks. How different from the
compact white kitchen they had at home! And yet there was a cosy
feeling about the huge room in front of him with its ruddy copper
utensils, tub-size wicker basket of vegetables, steaming pots hung
over the fire, and the browning row of four chickens on a revolving
spit, that gave out a friendliness and welcome modern kitchens did not
have. Becky finally paused in her work long enough to glance out from
under her hat at Chris.

"Now then, me lad! 'Tis not yet time to eat. That young belly of yours
takes a bit of filling, and no mistake! Be off now, and do you not go
a-bothering Becky for a bit. I will soon call you when all's done."

Chris would have liked to go outside and put his hand on the handle of
the back door, when a momentary confusion overtook him. He wondered if
in going out he would step back into his own time before he had
completed the work Mr. Wicker wanted him to do, and suddenly unsure,
turned away regretfully. Not knowing where else to go, he climbed the
stairs to his bedroom.

Becky had made his bed, and the little room looked spruce. Chris
walked into one of the niches made by the projecting windows, pushed
up the sash, and leaned perilously out.

This was to be the first of many such times that Chris was to lean out
so, king of this new world spread out below him as far as the eye
could reach. A vast and absorbing panorama lay beneath and beyond him.
Immediately be