by Enid Blyton
‘Now she won’t hear all we’ve found this morning,’ said Jack. ‘What a spitfire she is! Well, we’ll have to tell you, Lucy-Ann. We’ve had a real adventure.’
Dinah, walking off in a fury, suddenly remembered that she had not heard the story of the secret passage and where it came out. Forgetting her rage, she turned back at once.
She saw Lucy-Ann and the two boys together. Philip turned his back on her as she came up. But Dinah could be as sudden in her good tempers as she was in her bad ones. She put her arm on Philip’s.
‘Sorry, Philip,’ she said. ‘What happened to you and Jack in that secret passage? I’m longing to know.’
So peace was restored again, and soon the two girls were listening in the greatest excitement to all that the boys had to tell.
‘It was an adventure, I can tell you,’ said Jack. So it was – and there were more to come!
9
A strange boat
The girls would not go up the secret passage, no matter how much the boys urged them to. They shuddered to think of the dark, narrow, winding tunnel, and although they agreed that it was very exciting, they did not want to feel the thrill of creeping along it by themselves.
‘I suppose Dinah’s afraid of giant starfish jumping out at her, or something,’ said Philip in disgust. ‘And Lucy-Ann takes her side.’
But even teasing would not make the girls try the passage, though they never tired of hearing about it. The boys slipped down into the cellar the next day, and found that Joe had once again piled up the boxes in front of the second door, so that it was quite hidden. It was puzzling, but he often did silly spiteful things. Anyway, they had the key of the door. That was something.
The weather became fine and hot. The sun shone down out of a cloudless sky and the children went about in bathing-suits. They were soon burnt as brown as toast. Philip, Dinah and Lucy-Ann spent more time than Jack in the water. The boy was quite mad over the wild birds that infested the coast in such numbers. He was forever identifying terns and skuas, cormorants, gulls and others. He did not want Lucy-Ann with him, much to her dismay.
‘The birds are learning to know me,’ he explained to his sister. ‘But they don’t know you, Lucy-Ann. You keep with the others, there’s a good girl. Anyway, we can’t both leave Tufty and Dinah, it would be rude.’
So for once Lucy-Ann was not Jack’s shadow, and spent most of her time with the others. But she usually knew where Jack was, and, when it was about time for him to return, she would always watch for him.
Dinah thought she was silly. She would never have dreamt of watching for Philip. ‘I’m only too glad when he gets out of the way,’ she said to Lucy-Ann. ‘Horrid tease! He nearly made me go mad last year when he put earwigs under my pillow, and they all crawled out in the middle of the night.’
Lucy-Ann thought that sounded horrid. But by now she was used to Philip and his peculiar ways. Even when he was only wearing swimming trunks he seemed able to secrete some kind of creature about his body. Yesterday it had been a couple of friendly crabs. But when he had accidentally sat down on one, and it had nipped him, he had come to the conclusion that crabs were better in the sea than out of it.
‘Anyway, I’m glad Freckles takes Kiki with him when he goes bird-watching,’ said Dinah. ‘I quite like Kiki, but now that she has taken to imitating all the birds around here, it is rather sickening. I’m surprised Aunt Polly puts up with her as well as she does.’
Aunt Polly had become fond of the parrot. It was an artful bird and knew that it had only to murmur ‘Poor dear Polly’ to get anything it liked out of Aunt Polly. Joe had been well and truly ticked off by Aunt Polly the day he had gone shopping in the car and had forgotten the parrot’s sunflower seeds. The children had been delighted to hear the man so well scolded.
Uncle Jocelyn’s experience of Kiki was definitely not so good. One hot afternoon the parrot had flown silently in at the open window of the study, where Uncle Jocelyn sat, as usual, bent double over his old papers and books. Kiki flew to the book-shelf and perched there, looking round her with interest.
‘How many times have I told you not to whistle?’ she said in a stern voice.
Uncle Jocelyn, lost in his books, came out of them with a start. He had never seen the parrot and had forgotten that one had come to the house. He sat puzzling his head to know where such an extraordinary speech came from.
Kiki said nothing more for a time. Uncle Jocelyn came to the conclusion that he had been mistaken, and he dropped his head to study his papers once more.
‘Where’s your handkerchief?’ asked Kiki sternly.
Uncle Jocelyn felt sure that his wife was somewhere in the room, for Kiki imitated Aunt Polly’s voice very well. He groped in his pocket for a handkerchief.
‘Good boy,’ said the parrot. ‘Don’t forget to wipe your feet now.’
‘They’re not dirty, Polly,’ said Uncle Jocelyn in surprise, thinking that he was speaking to his wife. He was puzzled and annoyed. Aunt Polly did not usually come and disturb him like this by giving him unnecessary orders. He turned round to tell her to go, but could not see her.
Kiki gave a hollow cough, exactly like Joe’s. Uncle Jocelyn, now certain that the man was also in the room, felt most irritable. Why must everyone walk in and disturb him today? Really, it was unbearable.
‘Get out,’ he said, thinking that he was speaking to Joe. ‘I’m busy.’
‘Oh, you naughty boy,’ said the parrot, in a reproving tone. Then it coughed again, and gave a realistic sneeze. Then, for a while, there was complete silence.
Uncle Jocelyn settled down again, forgetting all about the interruption at once. Kiki did not like being ignored like that. She flew from the book-shelf on to Uncle Jocelyn’s grey head, giving one of her railway-engine screams as she did so.
Poor Uncle Jocelyn leapt to his feet, clutched at his head, dislodged Kiki, and gave a yell that brought Aunt Polly into the room at once. Kiki sailed out of the window, making a cackling sound that sounded just like laughter.
‘What’s the matter, Jocelyn?’ asked Aunt Polly, alarmed.
Uncle Jocelyn was in a rage. ‘People have been in and out of this room all the morning, telling me to wipe my feet and not to whistle, and somebody threw something at my head,’ he fumed.
‘Oh – that was only Kiki,’ said Aunt Polly, beginning to smile.
‘Only Kiki! And who on earth is Kiki?’ shouted Uncle Jocelyn, furious at seeing his wife smile at his troubles instead of sympathising with them.
‘The parrot,’ said Aunt Polly. ‘The boy’s parrot, you know.’
Uncle Jocelyn had forgotten all about Jack and Lucy-Ann. He stared at his wife as if she had gone mad.
‘What boy – and what parrot?’ he demanded. ‘Have you gone crazy, Polly?’
‘Oh dear,’ sighed Aunt Polly. ‘How you do forget things, Jocelyn!’ She reminded him of the two children who had come for the holidays, and explained about Kiki. ‘She’s the cleverest parrot you ever saw,’ said Aunt Polly, who had now completely lost her heart to Kiki.
‘Well,’ said Uncle Jocelyn grimly, ‘all I can say is that if that parrot is as clever as you think it is, it will keep out of my way – because I shall throw all my paperweights at it if it comes in here again.’
Aunt Polly, thinking of her husband’s very bad aim whenever he threw anything, gave a glance at the window. She thought she had better keep it closed, or she might find everything in the room smashed by paperweights one day. Dear, dear, what annoying things did happen, to be sure! If it wasn’t children clamouring for more to eat, it was Joe worrying her; and if it wasn’t Joe, it was the parrot; and if it wasn’t the parrot, it was Uncle Jocelyn threatening to throw his paperweights about. Aunt Polly closed the window firmly, went out of the room, and shut the door sharply.
‘Don’t slam the door,’ came Kiki’s voice from the passage. And how many times have I . . .’
But for once Aunt Polly had no kind word for Kiki. ‘You’re a b
ad bird,’ she said sternly to the parrot. ‘A very bad bird.’
Kiki sailed down the passage with an indignant screech. She would find Jack. Jack was always good and kind to her. Where was Jack?
Jack was not with the others. He had gone with his field-glasses to the top of the cliff, and was lying on his back, looking with pleasure at the birds soaring above his head. Kiki landed on his middle and made him jump.
‘Oh – it’s you, Kiki. Be careful with your claws, for goodness’ sake. I’ve only got my bathing-suit on. Now keep quiet, or you’ll frighten away the birds. I’ve already seen five different kinds of gulls today.’
Jack got tired of lying on his back at last. He sat up, pushed Kiki off his middle, and blinked round. He put his field-glasses to his eyes again, and looked out over the sea in the direction of the Isle of Gloom. He had not seen it properly yet.
But today, though most of the distant hills behind him were lost in the heat haze, for some reason or other the island could be quite plainly seen, jutting up from the sea to the west. ‘Gosh!’ said Jack, in surprise, ‘there’s that mystery island that Joe says is a bad island. How clearly it can be seen today! I can see hills jutting up – and I can even see the waves dashing spray over the rocks that go round it!’
Jack could not see any birds on the island, for his glasses were not strong enough to show him anything more than the island itself and its hills. But the boy felt certain that it was full of birds.
‘Rare birds,’ he said to himself. ‘Birds that people don’t know any more. Birds that might nest there undisturbed year after year, and be as tame as cats. Golly, I wish I could go there. What a tiresome nuisance Joe is not to let us use his boat! We could get to the island in it quite easily if the sea was as calm as it is today. Blow Joe!’
The boy swept his glasses around the jagged coast, and then stared hard in surprise at something. It couldn’t be somebody rowing a boat along the coast, about a mile or so away. Surely it couldn’t. Joe had said that nobody but himself had a boat for miles and miles – and Aunt Polly had said that nobody lived anywhere near Craggy-Tops at all – not nearer than six or seven miles, anyway.
‘And yet there’s someone in a boat out there on the sea to the west of this cliff,’ said Jack, puzzled. ‘Who is it? I suppose it must be Joe.’
The man in the boat was too far away to make out. It might be Joe and it might not. Jack came to the conclusion that it must be. He glanced at the sun. It was pretty high, so it must be dinner-time. He’d go back, and on the way he would look and see if Joe’s boat was tied up in the usual place. If it was gone, then the man in the boat must be Joe.
But the boat was not gone. It was in its usual place, firmly tied to its post, rocking gently in the little harbour near the house. And there was Joe too, collecting driftwood from the beach for the kitchen fire. Then there must be someone else not far away who had a boat of his own.
Jack ran to tell the others. They were surprised and pleased. ‘We’ll go and find out who he is, and pal up with him, and maybe he’ll take us out fishing in the boat,’ said Philip at once. ‘Good for you, Freckles. Your old field-glasses have found out something besides birds for you.’
‘We’ll go and see him tomorrow,’ said Jack. ‘What I really want is a chance to go out to the Isle of Gloom and see if there are any rare birds there. I just feel I must go there! I really have got a sort of hunch about it.’
‘We won’t tell Joe we’ve seen someone else with a boat,’ said Dinah. ‘He’d only try to stop us. He hates us doing anything we like.’
So nothing was said to Joe or to Aunt Polly about the stranger in the boat. The next day they would find him and talk to him.
But something was to happen before the next day came.
10
Night adventure
That night Jack could not sleep. The moon was full and shone in at his window. The moonlight fell on his face and he lay there, staring at the big silvery moon, thinking of the gulls he had seen gliding and circling on the wind, and the big black cormorants that stood on the rocks, their beaks wide open as they digested the fish they had caught.
He remembered the Isle of Gloom, as he had seen it that morning. It looked mysterious and exciting – so far away, and lonely and desolate. Yet people had lived there once. Why did no one live there now? Was it so desolate that no one could make a living there? What was it like?
‘I wonder if I could possibly see it tonight, in the light of the full moon,’ thought Jack. He slipped off the mattress without waking Philip, and went to the window. He stared out.
The sea was silvery bright in the moonlight. Where rocks cast shadows, deep black patches lay on the sea. The waters were calmer than usual, and the wind had dropped. Only a murmur came up to Jack as he stood at the window.
Then he stared in surprise. A sailing boat was coming over the water. It was still a good way out, but it was making for the shore. Whose boat was it? Jack strained his eyes but could not make it out. A sailing boat making for Craggy-Tops in the middle of the night! It was odd.
‘I’ll wake Tufty,’ he thought, and went to the mattress. ‘Tufty! Philip! Wake up and come to the window.’
In half a minute Philip was wide awake, leaning out of the narrow window with Jack. He too saw the sailing boat, and gave a low whistle that awoke Kiki and brought her to Jack’s shoulder in surprise.
‘Is it Joe in the boat?’ wondered Philip. ‘I can’t tell if it’s his boat or not from here. Anyway, let’s get down to the shore and watch it come in, Freckles. Come on. I’m surprised that he should be out at night, when he’s always telling us about “things” that wander around the cliff in the dark – but it probably isn’t him.’
They put on shorts and jerseys, and their rubber shoes, and made their way down the spiral stair. They were soon climbing down the steep cliff path. Under the moon the sailing boat came steadily in, the night wind behind it.
‘It is Joe’s boat,’ said Philip at last. ‘We can see it plainly now. And there’s Joe in it. He’s alone, but he’s got a cargo of some sort.’
‘Maybe he’s been fishing,’ said Jack. ‘Let’s give him a fright, Philip.’
The boys crept up to where the boat was heading. Joe was furling the sail. Then he began to row to the shore, towards the little harbour where he always tied up his boat. The boys crouched down behind a rock. Joe brought the big boat safely in, and then tied the rope to the post. He turned to pull out whatever cargo he had – and at that very moment the boys jumped out at him, giving Red Indian whoops and rocking the boat violently.
The man was taken unawares, lost his balance and fell into the water, going overboard with a terrific splash. He came up at once, his face gleaming in the moonlight. The boys did not like the expression on it. Joe climbed out of the water, shook himself like a dog, and came towards the boys determinedly.
‘Golly – he’s going to lick us,’ said Jack to Philip. ‘Come on – we must run for it.’
But the way to the house was barred by the big powerful body of the angry man.
‘Now I’ll show you what happens to boys who come spying around at night,’ he said between his teeth. Jack tried to dodge by, but Joe caught hold of him. He swung his big fist into the air and Jack gave a yell. At the same moment Philip charged Joe full in the middle, and the winded man gasped for breath, and let go of Jack. The boys sped off over the beach at once, heading away from the steep cliff path that led to the house. Joe was after them immediately.
‘The tide’s coming in,’ gasped Jack, as he felt water running over his ankles. ‘We must turn back. We’ll be caught by the tide and pounded against the rocks.’
‘We can’t turn back. We shall be licked black and blue by Joe,’ panted Philip. ‘Jack – make for that cave. We can perhaps creep up that secret passage. We simply must. I really don’t know what he mightn’t do if he was in a rage. He might even kill us.’
Quite terrified now, the boys floundered into the cave, the waves runn
ing round their ankles. Joe came splashing behind them. Ah – he had got those boys now! Wait till he had done with them! They wouldn’t leave their beds again at night!
The boys found the hole in the floor of the cave they were looking for and disappeared down it into the darkness of the secret passage. They heard Joe breathing heavily outside in the upper cave. They hoped and prayed he would not slip down the hole too.
He didn’t. He stood outside by the entrance, waiting for the boys to come out. He had no idea there was a secret passage there. He stood, panting heavily, clenching his fist hard. A big wave covered his knees. Joe muttered something. The tide was coming in rapidly. If those boys didn’t come out immediately they would be trapped there for the night.
Another wave ran up, almost as high as the angry man’s waist. It was such a powerful wave that he at once left the cave entrance and tried to make his way back across the beach. He could not risk being dashed to pieces against the cliff by the incoming tide.
‘Those boys can spend the night in the caves, and I’ll deal with them tomorrow morning early,’ thought Joe grimly. ‘As soon as the tide goes down in the morning I’ll be there – and they’ll be mighty sorry for themselves when I’ve finished with them.’
But the boys were not shivering inside the cave. They were once more climbing up the secret passage, this time in complete darkness. The passage was terrifying enough – but not nearly so alarming as Joe.
They came at last to the trap-door and pushed it open. They clambered out on to the rocky cellar floor, and shut the trap-door.
‘Take my hand,’ said Jack, shivering as much with cold as with fright. ‘We’ll make our way towards the door as best we can. Come on. You know the direction, don’t you? I don’t.’
Philip thought he did, but he found that he didn’t. It took the boys some time to find the cellar door. They felt all round the rocky walls of the cellar, and at long last, after falling over boxes of all kinds, they came to the door. It was not locked. Thank goodness they had taken away the key. Philip pushed at the door and it opened.