by Joan Aiken
‘Shooting right across the Atlantic? Blowing up St James’s Palace. Is that what he means, Pen?’
‘Goodso!’ the professor said, delighted. ‘Is fine shoot, not? And is all mine, Doktor Axeltree Breadno, mine mattematic kalkulätted!’
‘But, Professor, blowing up London!’
‘London – not. Sönmal Kungspalast.’
‘Only the king’s palace,’ Dido guessed. He nodded. ‘Croopus, that’s mighty pretty aiming, I must say. But, honestly, Professor, you mustn’t blow up the poor old king, must he, Pen? What harm’s he ever done to you?’
‘No indeed, it would be very wrong,’ Penitence agreed.
But they seemed unable to convey this idea to the professor. ‘Is cleverness, not?’ he kept saying. ‘Will being magnifibang!’ He was so pleased with his amazing feat of having made a gun that would shoot right across the Atlantic and hit St James’s Palace that he could not see any wrong in it.
‘He’s looking forward to the bang,’ Dido said exasperatedly.
‘Is being donderboom!’ he agreed with an eager nod. ‘And will pushing – lookso –’ He made a gesture on the globe with his finger, from Nantucket to the New Jersey coast. It took them some time to see what he meant.
‘You mean,’ said Dido at last, ‘that the what-d’ you-call-’em – the recoil from the shot – will push Nantucket right back against that place, Atlantic City?’
‘Is so!’ he said in triumph. ‘Is byggdegrit, not?’
‘It certainly is! Just wait till the Mayor hears this! It ought to change his notions about not interfering. “We keep ourselves to ourselves on Nantucket,” he said.’ Dido couldn’t help bursting into a fit of laughter. Then she sobered up. Pen was looking absolutely aghast.
‘Push Nantucket all that way? But the houses would fall down!’
‘That wouldn’t be the half of it, I dessay,’ Dido said. ‘Think of the waves! Look, Prof, when’s all this due to happen? When? Bang?’ She pointed to the clock and a calendar.
He flew into a complicated explanation; they could understand only about one word in eighteen. They gathered there was some final calculation to be made, and then he kept saying, ‘Expectness skepp coming.’
‘Oh, I know,’ Dido said at last. ‘He’s waiting for the ship, the Dark Diamond. She’s bringing the cannonball.’
‘So, is so!’ He counted on his fingers. ‘Tvo, tree day.’
‘Three days? We’ve not got much time, then. Lucky Doc Mayhew’s coming back. And then you sail away in the ship, do you?’
‘Skepp awaits hjere.’ He demonstrated on the map that the Dark Diamond, having delivered the cannonball, would hurry round to the other side of Cape Cod to avoid any tidal waves caused by the sudden displacing of Nantucket, and, when things had settled down, would collect the professor and take him home.
‘Lucky thing!’ said Dido with envy.
‘You wishing withcome? I fixing.’
Pen gave Dido an anxious look but did not speak.
‘Oh, goodness,’ Dido said. ‘Thanks, Professor, but I can’t leave till Pen’s fixed up. Anyway, I’d just as soon not sail along o’ Mr Slighcarp.’ Or Auntie Trib, she thought. ‘Much obliged for the offer though.’
The professor now politely took his leave, indicating that he would return next day to collect his dried clothes. He offered handfuls of golden guineas to the girls, but they shook their heads.
‘Not if they’re your pay for blowing up poor old kingy,’ Dido said; Professor Breadno beamed at her uncomprehendingly, kissed her hand again, murmuring, ‘Excellenzchildren,’ and trotted off down the hill.
‘Well!’ Left alone the girls stared at one another in amazement.
‘I said they was a peevy lot,’ Dido remarked at length. ‘But I never thought they was as peevy as that. Blowing up St James’s Palace!’
‘And moving our island! Without so much as a by your leave!’
There came a tap at the door. Both girls jumped guiltily but it was only Nate.
‘Anyone in?’ he said, putting his head round the door. ‘Say, girls! Guess the news! Guess who’s turned up?’
‘The Sarah Casket?’
Dido wondered if it could be the real Aunt Tribulation but did not say so.
‘No, it ain’t that. It’s the old pink ’un!’
‘The pink whale?’
‘Where is she?’
‘Off Squam Head, as plain as plain. She’s a-diving and a-playing and a-carrying on like a porpoise; everyone from Polpis has been there watching all afternoon. Doc Mayhew’s given strict instructions no one’s to hurt her. Is Cap’n Casket awake?’
‘I’ll see,’ said Pen, and ran upstairs.
‘He ought to get a sight of her,’ Dido said, ‘as soon as he is well enough to go out. I dessay she’d do him all the good in the world.’
They tiptoed upstairs after Penitence.
‘Papa,’ she could be heard saying softly, ‘Papa, are you feeling better?’
‘Is that thee, Daughter? Why, where am I?’
‘In your own bed at home, Papa.’
‘Why, so I am. I have been having strange dreams.’ He sighed. To Pen’s fright, two tears formed in his eyes and rolled slowly down his cheeks. ‘I dreamed that I had caught up with her at last,’ he said sadly. ‘And that she welcomed me.’
‘Who, Papa?’
‘The pink whale. It was but a dream, though.’
‘No, Papa, it wasn’t a dream! It was true! And she is waiting for you now, off Squam Head, waiting to see you, so you must hurry and get better,’ Pen told him joyfully. But his response was disappointing.
‘I know thee does it for the best, Daughter, but thee must not tell falsehoods. There is no pink whale. I have deceived myself for a long time.’
‘But, Papa, other people have seen her too. They have said so!’
‘They did but mock me.’
‘But, Papa, truly she is out there now off Squam Head. Indeed she is!’
Two more tears stood in Captain Casket’s eyes but he shook them away angrily, hunched his shoulders, and turned his face to the wall. To all Pen’s protestations he would merely reply:
‘I do not believe thee.’
Poor Pen came sadly out to the others.
‘Never mind,’ Dido comforted her. ‘Maybe Doc Mayhew’ll be able to convince him tomorrow. You make him some nice porridge or broth, summat strengthening, now. Nate’ll help me with the chores.’
While they were feeding the animals Dido quickly told Nate about the abominable plan to blow up King James III in his palace, and the disastrous effect this would have on the island of Nantucket.
He whistled in dismay. ‘Heave Nantucket right back against the mainland just so’s they can swap one king for another? Where’s the sense in that? Why don’t they stick with the one they’ve got?’
‘Search me,’ Dido said. ‘I never heard anything against old James Three. But they’ve got some George they want to put in.’
‘Sounds like plumb foolishness to me,’ Nate said.
‘Anyway it proves we was right.’
‘Did you tell the doc?’
‘No,’ Dido said crossly. ‘He wouldn’t listen to me. He thinks little girls tell fairy-tales. You’ll have to tell him tomorrow, Nate. Maybe he’ll pay attention when he hears Nantucket’s going to end up in Atlantic City. I hope he’d know Aunt Tribulation was a faker, but she turned him off round her finger, smooth as pie, pretending to remember when he pushed her in the creek. He was fooled.’
‘Does Pen know she’s really Miss Slighcarp?’
‘No,’ Dido said. ‘I ain’t told her. Young Pen’s not much on play-acting; she’d give the whole game away.’
‘Oh well, I’ll be along in the morning early before the doc gets here. ‘Night!’ Nate jumped on to his pony, which he had left tethered in the yard, and kicked it into a canter.
‘Good night,’ Dido called. She turned back into the barn to get a basket of eggs for supper – and stood still, pe
trified with horror. Aunt Tribulation was there, standing in the shadows behind the oil lamp. The upward-slanting light gave her face a most sinister expression.
‘Oh!’ Dido stammered. ‘I d-didn’t know – that is, I th-thought you was asleep.’
‘I was asleep,’ Aunt Tribulation said menacingly. ‘But I have woken up now, as you see. And I have overheard the most curious conversation!’
As Dido still gazed at her, frozen with indecision – how much had she heard, would there be time to shout after Nate and warn him? – Aunt Tribulation turned her head sharply and said:
‘Ebbo, deal with this one. And make no mistake about it – deal with her for good!’
A thick black bag came down over Dido’s head, smothering her.
9
Kidnapped – Captain Casket is taken for a walk – Pen meets the doctor – the pink whale meets her friend – breakfast on the beach
DIDO STRUGGLED FURIOUSLY inside the sack, but somebody had thrust a gag into her mouth (it tasted like and probably was a muddy sock) and her hands were tied in front of her, so she was helpless. When she tried to run somebody tripped her and she fell to the ground and lay there winded and gasping.
Low voices were speaking near by. She heard Aunt Tribulation say:
‘Did you get the boy too, Brother?’
The answer was a grunt which could have been yes or no.
‘That miserable little Breadno has been blabbing,’ Aunt Tribulation went on. ‘You can never trust scientists or foreigners, curse them! They’ve no sense. We should have kept a closer watch on him. Luckily it’s only got as far as the children; they were to have told Mayhew tomorrow. That has been stopped in time. But Breadno is too big a risk; he’ll have to be dealt with too. Has he finished his final calculations?’
‘He’s just sighting the gun now, and calculating the charge, back at the hut,’ Mr Slighcarp’s voice said. ‘We’ll make him work right through the night; it shouldn’t take him more than another three or four hours. But Sister, are you sure we shall be able to fire the gun without him?’
‘Of course we shall, ninnyhammer,’ she said impatiently. ‘Anybody can let off a gun once it is aimed and the amount of charge is calculated. He’ll be no loss. In any case I was planning to leave him behind on the island after the gun was fired; there’d have been little sense in risking our necks coming back to pick him up. I’ll fire it, if you like; only mind you pick me up.’
‘Very well.’ He sounded relieved at this suggestion. ‘The rest of us will go on board Dark Diamond as soon as the gun is loaded, and stand off round Cape Cod in case of tidal waves. Then we’ll come back afterwards to pick you up, wherever you’ve got to. What shall we do with the prisoners, take them on the ship too?’
‘Has she been sighted yet?’
‘No, I can’t think what delays her,’ he said vexedly.
‘Storms, perhaps. In any case,’ said the false Aunt Tribulation, ‘there’d be no point in taking the prisoners on board. We don’t want to keep them; we want to get rid of them. Tie a rock to their feet and drop them over Sankaty cliff when the tide is high.’
Dido’s hair stood on end when she heard this cold-blooded order. She struggled fiercely and bit her gag but in vain.
‘Supposing the professor doesn’t finish his sums till tomorrow morning? We can hardly toss them over the cliff in broad daylight. There might be people about watching for the whale.’
‘Shut them in the lighthouse till dark, then,’ she said impatiently. ‘The lighthouse keeper goes off at dawn and you know where he keeps the key.’
‘Yes, under one of the rocks. That would answer,’ he said, considering. ‘What about the third child – Casket’s daughter –’
Dido held her breath.
‘I heard the other girl say she knows nothing.’ Dido breathed again, remembering how she had told Nate in the barn that Pen was unaware of Aunt Tribulation’s real identity. Evidently Aunt Tribulation had taken this to mean that Pen knew nothing about the plot at all. Lucky for Pen, Dido thought.
‘She had better be left here,’ Aunt Tribulation went on. ‘Doctor Mayhew, when he returns, would think it strange if she were not in attendance on her father.’
‘On you, you mean,’ Mr Slighcarp said sourly. ‘Oh, yes, it’s very nice for you up here, waited on hand and foot by those children, while we pig it in the forest!’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Brother. You know it was quite out of the question that I should camp with you in the forest; it would be most unsuitable.’ He made a sneering remark, but she ignored it and said, ‘I will think of some story to account for the absence of the other two, should anyone ask.’
‘Casket knows nothing about us?’
‘Not he. His wits are clean gone.’
‘It must have been a shock for you when he turned up.’
‘In his present state, it was all for the best,’ she said calmly. ‘If my own brother accepts me, no one else can have any doubts.’
‘Suppose he recovers?’
‘He is hardly likely to do so before we leave. He keeps jabbering blubber-headed stuff about pink whales.’
‘That’s not so blubber-headed,’ Mr Slighcarp said drily. ‘She’s there off Squam Head. There were crowds on the shore yesterday watching her. If she comes farther south we may have to change our plans; we can hardly unload the stuff from Dark Diamond with a whole lot of jobberknolls watching.’
‘In that case you’d better choose some other point to dispose of the prisoners.’
‘It will be all right after nightfall,’ he said. ‘And we must be at Sankaty, anyway, to watch for the ship; we arranged to exchange signals there; then she’ll heave-to a mile off the coast and we’ll go out by boat, as if we were after bass, and collect the stuff.’
‘Very well. Send me a message as soon as she is sighted. You’d better get back to Breadno now and see that he is kept to work and doesn’t wander off again looking for night hawks or something else foolish. The sooner those prisoners are disposed of, the easier I shall feel; we don’t want fuss and inquiries at this end spoiling our plans at the last minute.’
Dido was now rudely dragged to her feet, and forced to walk by repeated prods in the back. She could not see because of the sack over her head (it was a flour sack and she kept sneezing as the loose flour sifted down). Her bound hands were buckled on to a dangling strap. In a moment she realized that this was the pony’s stirrup. So they must have got Nate, she thought dismally; he’s probably on the other side of the pony. Now we are in the basket. How the mischief will we get out of this fix? What’ll Pen do when I don’t come back? Aunt Tribulation will tell her some tale, so she won’t worry for hours. Will she have the sense to tell Doc Mayhew about the gun when he comes tomorrow? Yes, she’ll probably have that much sense, but will Doc Mayhew believe her? And suppose Aunt Tribulation catches her at it? And even if he does believe her, that probably won’t be in time to help Nate and me and poor old Breadno. We’ll be feeding the fishes before they guess what’s happened unless we can work ourselves loose somehow. Oh well; let’s hope old Breadno takes a devil of a long time over those final calculations of his.
Immersed in these gloomy thoughts she trudged along. The going was much rougher now; they had left the track. Bushes and brambles caught her legs, so she guessed they must be approaching the forest. Presently they halted and there was a long wait while the pony stamped and shifted impatiently. Dido was desperately tired and longed to sit down, but the strap that attached her hands to the stirrup was too short to allow this; all she could do was to lean against the pony, grateful for its warmth in the chilly night air. In the end she did fall into a sort of doze on her feet, regardless of the awkward position. When she next opened her eyes she was surprised to find daylight filtering through the loose mesh of the flour sack. Presently footsteps approached and there were some faint protesting cries which ceased abruptly; evidently poor Professor Breadno had been added to the roll of prisoners. Dido felt sorry for hi
m and remorseful that she had been the cause of the gang’s decision to dispose of him. But, she thought, he shouldn’t have invented the gun. I suppose he don’t see the harm in it; he’s like a child.
Now the procession moved forward steadily for a considerable distance; Dido, stiff and aching all over, thought they might have gone three or four miles when at length they halted again and their captors conferred in low voices.
‘Too late to chuck ’em now; broad daylight and somebody might come along. Besides, it ain’t full tide yet; no water at the foot of the cliff.’
Thank the lord Breadno’s a slow worker, Dido thought.
‘Any sign of the ship yet?’
‘Yes, there’s a sail to south’ards that looks like her.’
‘What the blazes is she doing down thataway? No wonder she’s behind schedule.’
‘Gale blew her off course, maybe.’
‘Has the lighthouse keeper left yet?’
‘Yes, half an hour ago.’
‘Bring them along, then; best carry them the last bit. Lucky we put them in flour bags and the weather’s a bit thick; if anyone happens along, we’re just delivering flour to the lighthouse.’
Mr Slighcarp laughed sourly.
Dido was picked up and slung over somebody’s shoulder, carried about a hundred yards in a very jolting and uncomfortable manner, and then thumped down roughly on to a stone floor. Something – another body – fell heavily on top of her. She wondered if it was Nate or Breadno. Then she heard footsteps retreating. A door slammed. I’ll count to a hundred, she decided; then I’ll try to wriggle out of my sack. Dunno when I’ve been so tired, though.
Counting was a mistake. The numbers slipped by more and more slowly . . . tied themselves in knots . . . began to run backwards. Before she had reached forty, Dido was asleep.
The pony’s footsteps had died away down the track. Aunt Tribulation turned and went back into the house. A delicious smell of broth filled the kitchen. She could hear the voice of Penitence upstairs in Captain Casket’s room.
‘Try to take a little more, Papa dear! To please me! Just a spoonful and a cracker. That’s it – famous! Now you may lie down and sleep.’