The Circus of Adventure (8 page)

‘I don’t like blidding,’ said poor Gussy, in a woebegone voice. ‘It makes me feel sick.’

‘Well, be sick then,’ said hard-hearted Dinah. ‘But don’t make a FUSS.’

Gussy made a valiant effort and swallowed hard. He didn’t cry after all. What a victory!

After they had eaten every crumb of their tea, they decided to go back. Philip wanted to have a look at the quarry on the way to see if he thought that badgers might really make that their haunt.

He wandered round the big deserted place, examining the hedges round for signs of a badger’s sett. The girls and Gussy ran the few hundred yards that lay between the quarry and the cottage. Lucy-Ann thought they ought to, in case any enemy was lying in wait!

‘Any news?’ she asked, as they went indoors, panting. ‘Has Jack come back from the farm yet?’

He hadn’t. Nobody had any news at all, it seemed. Jack had none either, when he came.

‘Not a soul came to the farm,’ he said. ‘And I didn’t even see the man and the woman. They must have been in their room all the time. Once I heard a “ting”—as if somebody was using the telephone. It might have been them.’

‘Can’t tell,’ said Bill. ‘Well—I seem to have had a lazy day. I’ve got some papers to read and then I suppose it will be supper-time. There’s going to be a fine moon tonight!’

‘Just right for badgers,’ Philip whispered to Jack. ‘Like to come out and see if we can find any?’

‘Rather,’ said Jack. ‘We can slip out when the others are in bed. Gussy always sleeps so soundly, he’ll never hear!’

Supper-time came. C old ham, a salad, junket and cream. ‘Just the right kind of meal,’ said Philip. ‘Why can’t we have this kind of food at school?’

‘Don’t let’s start up the subject of school meals again, Philip,’ said his mother. ‘You’re yawning. Go to bed!’

‘I think I will,’ said Philip. ‘Coming, Jack?’

Jack remembered that they had planned an outing in the moonlight, and he nodded. They might as well get a little sleep first. Gussy went up with them. The girls stayed down to finish their books and then went up too.

‘I’ll set my little alarm clock for eleven,’ said Philip to Jack, in a low voice, not wanting Gussy to hear. ‘I’ll put it under my pillow and it won’t wake anyone but me. Gosh, I’m sleepy.’

In ten minutes all the five children were fast asleep. Downstairs Bill and his wife sat listening to the radio. ‘We’ll hear the ten o’clock news and then go to bed,’ said Bill.

But, just as the ten o’clock news was about to come on, there came a cautious tapping at the front door. Bill stiffened. Who was that? He looked at his wife, and she raised her eyebrows. Who could that be at this time of night?

Bill went quietly to the door. He didn’t open it, but spoke with his mouth close to the crack.

‘Who’s there?’

‘Oh, sir, Mrs. Ellis has sent me down to beg you to come up to the farm,’ said an anxious voice. ‘It’s her old aunt. She’s fallen down and broken her hip. Can you come? Mrs. Ellis is in such a way! She sent me to ask you, because the doctor’s away.’

Bill opened the door. He saw a bent figure, wrapped round in a shawl. It must be Alice, the old woman who helped Mrs. Ellis in the kitchen. ‘Come in,’ he said.

‘No, sir, I’ll be getting back,’ said the old woman. ‘You’ll come, won’t you?’

‘Yes, we’ll come,’ said Bill. He shut the door and went back to tell his wife.

‘It’s a message from Mrs. Ellis about the old aunt. Apparently she has fallen and broken her hip,’ he said. ‘Will you go, Allie? I’ll take you there, of course, and then I must leave you and come back here, because of Gussy. But Mr. Ellis will bring you back, unless you stay for the night.’

‘Yes, I’d better go at once,’ said Mrs. Cunningham. ‘Poor Mrs. Ellis! Just what she was afraid might happen!’

She got her things on, and Bill and she went out of the door. ‘It’s not worth waking up the children and telling them,’ he said. ‘They’re sound asleep. Anyway, I’ll be back here in a few minutes’ time.’

He shut the door quietly, made sure he had the key with him to open it when he came back, and then set off with his wife. What a wonderful moonlight night! Really, he would quite enjoy the walk!

Chapter 11

HAPPENINGS IN THE NIGHT

The moonlight streamed down over the countryside as Bill and his wife set out. ‘What a lovely night!’ said Bill. ‘As light as day, almost!’

They went up the tiny lane, hurrying as much as they could. ‘I’ll ask at the farm if Mr. Ellis can bring you back,’ Bill said, ‘I won’t stay even a minute. I’m worried about Gussy. I may get a glimpse of Madame Tatiosa and her companion—but I don’t particularly want them to see me.’

They were passing a little copse of trees, a patch of dense black shadow in the surrounding moonlight. Bill and his wife walked by, not seeing a small movement in the shadows.

Then things happened very quickly indeed. Four shadows came from the copse of trees, running silently over the grass. Bill turned at a slight sound—but almost as he turned someone leapt on him and bore him to the ground.

Mrs. Cunningham felt an arm round her, and a hand pressed over her mouth. She tried to scream, but only a small sound came from her.

‘Don’t struggle,’ said a voice. ‘And don’t scream. We’re not going to hurt you. We just want you out of the way for a short time.’

But Bill did struggle, of course. He knew what these men were after—Gussy! He groaned in anger at himself. This was a trick, of course! Old Aunt Naomi hadn’t had a fall! There had been no real message from the farm. It was all a ruse to get them out of the house, so that it would be easy to kidnap Gussy.

Someone gagged his mouth by wrapping a cloth firmly round his face. He could hardly breathe! He wondered how his wife was getting on, but he could see and hear nothing. He stopped struggling when at last his arms were pinned behind him, and tied together with rope.

There was nothing he could do. It was four against two, and as they had been taken by surprise they were at a great disadvantage. Perhaps he would be able to undo the rope that bound him when his captors had gone to get Gussy. He might still prevent the kidnapping.

Mrs. Cunningham was scared, and did her best to get away, but one man was quite sufficient to hold her and bind her hands and feet. She too was gagged so that she could not scream.

‘We are sorry about this,’ said a man’s voice, quite politely. ‘It is important to us to take the little Prince out of your hands. His country needs him. We shall not harm him in any way—and we have not harmed you either. We have merely put you to some inconvenience. Once we have the Prince one of us will come to untie you, if it is possible. If not—well, you will be found by some farm-labourer early in the morning.’

The men left Bill and his wife against a haystack, protected from the wind. One of them had gone through Bill’s pockets first, and had taken out the key of the cottage.

Bill listened as the men went off. Were they gone? He rubbed his head against the ground trying to get off the cloth bound round his face. Was his wife all right?

He was furious with himself. To walk into a trap as easily as all that! The woman with the message must have been one of the gang, of course. No wonder she wouldn’t come in. He should have been suspicious about that. An ordinary messenger would have waited for them and then walked to the farm in their company.

He remembered the ‘ting’ of the telephone that Jack said he had heard that afternoon. That must have been Madame Tatiosa or her companion telephoning to their headquarters to say that they knew where the Prince was, and requesting help to capture him. Another car must have come down that evening with other members of the gang. It all fitted in so well—but poor Bill saw the plot after it had been carried out, instead of before!

He wondered what was happening at Quarry Cottage. He believed the man who had said that he was not going to harm the little Prince. All they wanted to do was to depose his uncle and set Gussy up in his place. Poor Gussy! He would be made to do all that the gang wanted, and his life would be very miserable.

Nothing was happening just then at Quarry Cottage. All the five children were fast asleep, and so was Kiki. The window of the boys’ bedroom was shut, as Bill had ordered—but of what use was that when the enemy had the key to the front door!

Time crept on—and eleven o’clock came. Philip’s alarm clock went off under his pillow, whirring in a muffled way that woke him up with a jump. At first he didn’t know what the noise was, then he remembered.

‘Eleven o’clock!’ he thought, and slid his hand under his pillow to stop the alarm ringing. He sat up. Moonlight poured into the room, and made everything silvery. Just the night for badgers!

He padded across the room and shook Jack. ‘Wake up! Eleven o’clock!’ he whispered, right into his ear. He did not mean to wake Gussy, and have him clamouring to go with them! But Gussy was very sound asleep indeed. The moonlight streamed on to his face, and showed up the long lock of hair that had fallen as usual over his forehead.

Kiki awoke as soon as the alarm went off. But she was used to muffled alarm clocks, and merely gave a little yawn, and stretched her wings. If the boys were going out, she was quite ready! Nothing would persuade her to be left behind.

The two boys dressed quickly in shorts, jerseys and rubber-soled shoes. They took a last glance at Gussy. His mouth was wide open again. Jack grinned as he remembered the bits of grass that Kiki had popped into it on Sugar-Loaf Hill.

They crept downstairs, pausing outside Bill’s bedroom door to make sure all was quiet, and that Bill and his wife were asleep.

‘Can’t hear a thing,’ whispered Jack. ‘They must be very sound asleep! Not even a snore from Bill!’

This wasn’t very surprising, of course, as Bill was at that moment struggling with his ropes as he lay in the shelter of the haystack.

‘We’ll go out the back way,’ whispered Philip. ‘The front door creaks a little. Don’t bump into anything in the hall, for goodness’ sake.’

Kiki was on Jack’s shoulder, as quiet as the dormouse in Philip’s pocket. She could always be depended on to keep silent when it was necessary. She knew quite well that the boys were trying not to be heard. She pecked Jack’s ear affectionately, wondering what he was up to on this moonlight night.

The boys went out of the back door, and then stood still, debating which way to go.

‘I think I’ll come up to the little wood with you first,’ said Jack. ‘I might pop down to the quarry later, to hear the owls there, and see if I can watch them swooping on mice or rats.’

So they went silently to the wood on the east side of the cottage, making no noise in their rubber-soled shoes. They kept to the shadows of the hedges, afraid that someone might see them, even in this deserted spot. The moonlight was so very brilliant!

They came to the wood. Philip knew what type of place badgers would visit, and he led Jack to a hedge overshadowing a big bank.

‘This is the sort of place to wait about in,’ he said. ‘Let’s squeeze into that bush there.’

They crouched down in the black shadows. An owl suddenly hooted nearby, and Kiki at once hooted back, copying the long, quavering hoot exactly, and making Jack jump.

‘Shut up, Kiki,’ he whispered fiercely. ‘You’ll bring all the owls down on us with your hooting. Gosh, here comes the one you mimicked!’

An owl swooped by his head, and he ducked. So did Kiki! Kiki longed to hoot again. She loved puzzling any other bird.

She kept silent, half-sulky. The boys listened with their sharp ears, watching for any movement. Suddenly Jack gave Philip a nudge. A long, snake-like animal was hurrying by.

‘Stoat,’ whispered Philip in Jack’s ear. ‘And what’s this? A hedgehog!’

The hedgehog was curious about the black shadows sitting under the bush. He came fearlessly up to investigate. Philip put out his hand slowly, and the hedgehog sniffed it over. Jack quite expected to see him climb on to Philip’s knee! No creature was ever afraid of him.

But the hedgehog was hungry and he ran off to find the slugs he liked best. The boys thought he went along as if he was a little clockwork animal. They waited for the next night-creature to appear.

And this time it was a badger! It really was. Philip drew in his breath sharply. He had hardly hoped to see one so soon. It was a biggish creature, with a curiously striped black and white face. It stood absolutely still in the moonlight, sniffing, wondering if it could smell a danger-smell—a smell of humans?

But the wind blew from the badger to the boys, and he could smell nothing. He could hardly be seen as he stood in the full moonlight, because the black and white stripes down his face were so exactly like the black and white shadows of this moonlit night.

‘Perfect camouflage!’ whispered Philip, and Jack nodded. Then he nudged Philip. Something else was coming.

‘Young badgers!’ thought Philip, in delight. ‘A family party—yes, there’s mother badger at the back. What a bit of luck!’

The young badgers were skittish little bear-like things. They began to play about, and the two boys watched their curious games, quite fascinated.

The little badgers began to bounce. They really did bounce, on all four legs, jumping up and down in the same place, looking like fat, furry balls. They bounced at one another! One knocked another over, but in a flash he turned a somersault, came up under the first badger and knocked him over!

This head-over-heels game seemed a favourite one, and the young badgers played it for some time. Then the parents gave a little call, and went off into the wood; the young ones stopped their game and followed.

Jack gave a little laugh. ‘What an amusing sight! I’ve never seen animals play that game before! Do all badgers turn head-over-heels like that?’

‘I’ve heard so,’ said Philip. ‘A keeper once told me that a grown badger will spring traps that way—he just turns himself head-over-heels on the trap, sets it off, and then takes the bait! All he loses is a few hairs off his back.’

An owl hooted again, some way off. It was a tawny owl calling. Then there was a screech from a barn-owl. Kiki stirred on Jack’s shoulders. She was longing to do a bit of hooting and screeching herself!