The Circus of Adventure (14 page)

He wondered if he could use the old ladder again. He crawled back to it. He put his hand down and felt the topmost rung. Then he pulled hard. The ladder seemed a great deal heavier to pull up than it had been when he only carried it level. He tugged and tugged.

It was difficult to get it over the edge of the roof, but he managed it at last. He had to sit and hold the ladder by him for a while, because it had taken all his strength. He felt very pleased. Now he could put the ladder up to the window, and getting in would be child’s play!

He managed to get the ladder to the castle wall, though it was a very dangerous business, and twice he nearly rolled off. But at last he was by the wall, and raised the ladder carefully. It was difficult to find a safe place to put it.

At last he thought he had got it as safe as he could manage. Now to go up. He hoped that the ladder wouldn’t suddenly slip as he was climbing it. That wouldn’t be at all a pleasant tiling to happen!

He climbed up as quickly as he could, his heart thumping. Would the ladder hold? He got right to the top, and was just clambering onto the window-sill when the ladder slipped beneath him.

It slid sideways, fell on to the roof with an appalling noise and then crashed down into the courtyard. NOW there would be people waking up and coming to see what the noise was!

Jack pulled himself right through the window. As he had thought, it had no glass, and probably never had had. He jumped quietly down inside the window and crouched there, waiting.

He waited for three or four minutes, with Kiki fondling his right ear, not making a sound. Then he stood up and stretched himself. He peered out of the window.

No—nobody was about. He could see no lantern or torch flashing, could hear no voices. This side of the castle must be uninhabited then, or surely someone would have heard such a tremendous noise!

Dare he flash his torch to see where he was? He waited another minute and then, hearing no sound, flicked his torch on quickly and off again. But he had seen enough in that second.

He was in a small room, piled with chairs and benches, set neatly on top of one another—nothing else was there at all.

‘Just a store-room for extra furniture,’ thought Jack. ‘Come along, Kiki—we must remember we’ve got to find some other way of getting out of the castle—we can’t get out the way we came in! That ladder is certainly out of our reach!’

He went to the door and looked out into what seemed a corridor. Not a sound was to be heard. It was pitch-dark here, so he flashed his torch on again. Yes—a long stone passage without even a carpet-runner on it. No pictures about. No chairs. This certainly must be a part of the castle where nobody slept.

He went down the long corridor, his rubber shoes making no sound. He came to the end, where there was a window—a round one, with glass in it. He turned the corner and saw another long corridor, high-ceilinged, a little wider than the other, but still very bare.

Halfway down the corridor changed from bareness to comfort. A beautiful carpet ran down it, almost touching the walls each side. A big settee, covered in a golden damask, stood at one side. Great pictures hung on the walls.

‘This is where I’ve got to be careful,’ thought Jack. ‘There’s even a lamp alight on that round table over there—a dim one, it’s true—but still, enough for anyone to see me by!’

He went on. He passed an open door and looked cautiously inside. The light from another lamp just outside showed him what looked like a grand drawing-room. Tapestries hung all round the walls. Mirrors hung there too. A great carved table stood in the middle, its polished surface gleaming softly in the light of Jack’s torch.

He went out into the passage again, and considered what to do. First—in which direction was the tower that Hela had said the children were in? He must go in that direction if he could puzzle it out. He would have to find stairs too and climb them.

He decided to go on down the corridor. He must come to stairs soon, leading up into a tower! He came to another door, wide open. He peeped inside. How grand this castle was! What magnificent furnishings it had!

This room must be a library. It had books from floor to ceiling. Goodness—had anyone ever read even a hundredth of them? Surely not!

A noise made Jack flick out his torch and stand absolutely still. It was a noise in the room he was standing in—the library. It came from behind him—a whirring, groaning noise. Kiki gave a small squawk. She was as startled as Jack. Whatever was it?

Chapter 19

AN ADVENTURE IN THE NIGHT

Whirrrrrr! Whirrrrrrrr!

‘Ding-dong-ding-dong! Ding-dong-ding-dong! Ding-dong-ding-dong! Ding-dong-ding-dong! DONG, DONG, DONG, DONG, DONG, DONG, DONG, DONG, DONG, DONG, DONG, DONG!’

Jack sat down suddenly on a nearby chair, his heart thumping. It was only a clock chiming and striking! But what a start it gave him! Midnight—exactly midnight. Well—the people in the castle ought to be asleep, that was one thing to be glad of.

He got up and went back to the door. He went down the corridor again, and then, facing him round the next turning, he saw a great flight of stairs—a marble stairway, almost covered by a fine sweep of thick, beautifully patterned carpet.

‘I suppose that leads down to the hall,’ thought Jack. ‘Down to the entrance. Well, that gives me a guide—let me see—if the front entrance is down there—then the tower I want should be a bit further on. Come on, Kiki—down the corridor again!’

And down the endless corridor went the two of them. It was lighted by lamps, and was too bright for Jack’s liking. The doors he passed now were shut. Perhaps they were bedrooms. He certainly wasn’t going to look in and see!

He came to a sturdy oak door set in the inside wall. He paused. The tower ought to be about here. Would that door lead up to it? It looked different from the other doors he had passed. He tried the handle gently. It was a thick ring of iron and as he turned it sideways the door opened.

Jack pushed it wide. Stone steps led upwards, lighted by a dim lamp. He stood and debated with himself. Should he risk it and go up? Yes—he felt sure this was the way to the tower.

He tiptoed up and came to the top. He looked round in surprise. He was on another floor now, and the lay-out here was different from the one below. He was in what looked like a great hall, draped with magnificent curtains. A gallery overhung one end. There was a small platform at the other end, and on it stood music-stands. The floor was highly polished, and Jack suddenly realised what the hall was.

‘It’s a ballroom!’ he thought. ‘My word—what grand dances they must hold here! But now I seem to have lost my way to the tower again. Perhaps there’s another stair somewhere!’

He went round the ballroom. On the other side, behind some curtains, he came to a door. He opened it and found that it led to a kind of ante-chamber. Opening off this was a stone staircase—a spiral stair that wound upwards.

‘This is the tower staircase!’ thought Jack, excited. ‘It must be. Hallo—what’s that?’

He could hear the sound of nailed boots on stone! Quick as lightning he slid behind a nearby curtain. The footsteps came nearer, stamped, turned and went back again. How extraordinary!

Jack put his head carefully round the curtain. Going down a stone passage opposite was a soldier, gun on shoulder. He must be on guard—guarding the tower! He disappeared down the passage, his footsteps sounding farther and farther away till Jack could hear them no longer. Then back he came again to the foot of the tower stairway.

Stamp-stamp! The sentry turned round once more and marched into the passage. Jack watched him again. He was dressed in Hessian uniform, very gay and decorative. Jack had seen many of these soldiers while he had been with the circus. Perhaps this soldier was Hela’s father?

He waited till the sound of footsteps had completely died away again, then made a dart for the entrance to the spiral staircase. He ran up it swiftly, knowing that he had about half a minute before the return of the sentry.

Round and round wound the stairway, and at the top it grew so steep that Jack could no longer run up the steps, but had almost to climb!

He came to a little stone landing with a round window. A chest stood beneath the window, and an old chair stood beside it. Opposite Jack was a big, sturdy door, made of dark oak, and studded with great nails. He looked at it. Was Lucy-Ann behind that door? Dare he call her name?

He tiptoed to the door. He pushed. It was fast shut. He turned the great handle, but still it would not open. There was a keyhole there, but no key. He bent down to look through the keyhole, but could see nothing.

He could hear nothing either. Jack wished he knew what to do for the best. If he knocked on the door and called, he might find that the children were not there after all but that somebody else was. And the somebody might not be at all pleased to see him! Also, the sentry downstairs might hear him and come rushing up—and there was no way of escape up on this little landing!

And then he saw something in the light of his torch—something very surprising—something that told him for certain that the children were inside that room on the other side of the oak door!

A tiny creature had slipped under the wide space at the bottom of the door, and sat there, looking up at Jack with large black eyes.

‘Philip’s dormouse!’ whispered Jack, and knelt down slowly. ‘Snoozy! You are Snoozy, aren’t you! You’re Philip’s dormouse! Then Philip is in there!’

The dormouse was very tame. It had lived for some time with four children who adored it, petted it and had never once frightened it. Even Dinah had fallen under its spell, and loved it, though she would not let it run all about her as the others did.

And now here it was, on Jack’s hand, its whiskers twitching, its big eyes watching him and Kiki. Kiki looked at it in surprise, but made no attempt to hurt it.

‘Did you hear me, outside the door?’ whispered Jack. ‘Did you leave Philip and come to see who the midnight visitor was? How can I wake Philip? Tell me!’

An owl hooted somewhere outside the castle. The dormouse leapt from Jack’s hand in fright and scuttled under the door. The hoot of the owl gave Jack an idea. The sentry would take no notice of an owl’s hoot—but if he, Jack, gave a hoot just under the crack of the door, it would certainly wake up Philip. It would sound far away to the sentry, but very near to Philip! Far far better than banging on the door, which was a noise that might echo down the stairs and make the sentry come bounding up!

Jack lay down on his tummy. He put his face to the door, and placed his hands together to blow through his thumbs and hoot like an owl. This was the way to make a quavering hoot, so like an owl’s that no one, not even an owl, could tell the difference!

‘Hoooo! Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!’ hooted Jack, and the noise went under the door and into the room beyond.

Jack listened. Something creaked—was it a bed? Then a voice spoke—and it was Philip’s!

‘Gussy! Did you hear that owl? It might have been in the room!’

But Gussy, apparently, was asleep, for he made no answer. Jack got up and put his mouth to the door, trembling in his excitement.

‘Philip! Philip!’

There was an astonished exclamation. Then Philip’s voice came, amazed. ‘Who’s that? Who’s calling me?’

‘It’s me—Jack! Come to the door!’

There was a pattering of feet the other side and then an excited breathing at the keyhole.

‘Jack! Good gracious! How did you get here? Jack, how wonderful!’

‘No time to tell you my story,’ whispered Jack. ‘Are you all all right? How’s Lucy-Ann?’

‘We’re all well and cheerful,’ said Philip. ‘We flew here . . .’

‘I know,’ said Jack. ‘Go on—what happened?’

‘And we were taken here by car,’ said Philip, his mouth close to the keyhole. ‘And Gussy was sick, of course. Madame Tatiosa, who met us in the car, was furious with him. She’s here, in the castle—and her brother too, Count Paritolen. We don’t know what’s happening, at all—have you heard? Gussy keeps worrying about his uncle.’

‘His uncle is still safely on his throne as far as I know,’ said Jack. ‘But I expect they’ll have a bust-up soon—everyone’s expecting it. Then Gussy will find himself in the limelight!’

‘Jack—can you rescue us, do you think?’ asked Philip, hopefully. ‘How did you get here? Gosh, I’ve been thinking you were miles away, at Quarry Cottage! And here you are, outside the door of our room. Pity it’s locked!’

‘Yes. If I only knew where the key was, it would be easy,’ whispered Jack. ‘Where does your window face? East or north?’

‘North,’ said Philip. ‘It’s just opposite a peculiar tower built all by itself—a bell-tower, with a bell in it. Gussy says it’s an alarm-tower—the bell used to be rung when enemies were sighted in the old days. Our window is just opposite that. Now that we know you’re here we’ll keep looking out.’

‘Give my love to Lucy-Ann,’ said Jack. ‘Is she in the same room as you?’

‘No—the girls have another room,’ said Philip. ‘Look—let me go and wake them. They’d be so thrilled to speak to you.’

‘All right,’ said Jack, and then he stiffened. Footsteps! Footsteps at the bottom of the spiral stairway. ‘Someone coming!’ he whispered, hurriedly. ‘Goodbye! I’ll try and come again and we’ll make plans.’

He stood up, and listened. Yes—that sentry was coming up the stairway. Had he heard anything? Jack looked round desperately. How could he possibly hide on this small landing? It was impossible.

The chest! He ran to it and flashed his torch on it. He lifted the lid. There was nothing inside except an old rug. He stepped inside the chest, Kiki fluttered in too, and Jack shut down the lid. Only just in time! A lantern flashed at the last turn of the stairs and the sentry came on to the landing. He held up the lantern and looked round. All was in order. He clumped downstairs again, his nailed boots making a great noise. Jack’s heart slowed down and he heaved an enormous sigh. He got out of the chest and listened.

Philip’s voice at the keyhole again made him jump. ‘He’s gone! He always comes up every hour. Jack—I never asked you. Have you got old Kiki?’