by Chris Mould
MacDowell was hoisting him up above the level of the water, but he couldn’t do that for long.
“Nearly there, little man,” said Stanley. A smile broke over his face as what he now knew was soil began to drop into the water. He could smell the fresh, earthy smell of grass and plant life on the black mud that swam around him.
Now, instead of using the hammer and chisel, he was pulling away at clods of earth with his hands. They all joined in, and Stanley’s hand was the first to spear through the soil into the open air. He forced the space wider, then shoved Berkeley up and out into freedom.
MacDowell grabbed Daisy and did the same for her, then Stanley. They forced the hole wider as they emerged and eventually the long bony shape of MacDowell grew out from the hole, popping his pudgy belly through the opening.
“Sufferin’ sea shells, Stanley. Yer sure know how to have an adventure, young lad, I’ll give yer that one,” puffed MacDowell.
They sat a moment and got their bearings. They were out on the moor, in one of the lower-lying troughs. It was pitch black, and there were no more candles.
They stood up and brushed themselves off. Berkeley was shivering from head to toe and Daisy and Stanley hugged him tight to warm him.
Before they went anywhere, the four pushed and heaved a huge boulder over the hole they had just emerged from. No one would move that in a hurry.
And then something came across the air that reminded them just where they were. The distant howl of the wolf echoed over the Rock. With a good walk between themselves and home, and no weapon to beat the deadly threat that hung over the island, they set off into the night.
10
The Lupine Link
“Don’t worry, Violet,” said Victor to Mrs. Carelli, who was sitting in tears by the fireside. “I’m sure they’re safe. Old MacDowell is with them.”
“Oh, that clumsy old lummox. He can’t even walk up the stairs without losing a leg through the balustrade. I’ve got more faith in the lad than I do in the brave pirate, that’s for sure.”
Meanwhile, as the four escapees walked gingerly out across the moor, Stanley and Daisy explained to Berkeley that no gold must ever leave the smugglers’ mines. It would put the whole island in danger. Buccaneers would pull down the Darkling house just to get in there, and then they would destroy the Rock.
That was too much for Berkeley’s pointy little ears. He burst into tears again as he held tightly onto Daisy’s hand.
“I promise I’ll never take another piece. I’ll never go down there, not ever,” he insisted. “Just as long as you promise you’ll play with me.”
“Don’t worry, Berkeley, when we’ve all had a good night’s sleep we’ll play with you,” agreed Stanley.
But he was barely listening. He had been in this situation before, out here on the moor in the dead of night, with the howl of the wolf echoing around him. At any moment it could spring on them, and he had no way of dealing with it.
Berkeley was completely at ease out on the dark moor. He skipped and trotted and ran among the rocks, disappearing here and there and jumping out on them with his eyes all aglow.
MacDowell was at their side, and he cowered every time he heard a howl.
“Can yer tell the little wolf boy to stop his antics, Stanley? I’m worryin’ meself ’alf to death ‘ere.”
“Berkeley, please will you—” But no, he had gone again. Skipping off somewhere, only to jump out at them in a moment’s time. Stanley could hear him treading over dry leaves up ahead, and he thought he’d surprise him this time, before Berkeley had the chance to surprise them.
But as he leaped around the corner, what stood before him wasn’t Berkeley.
It was the formidable shape of the most fearsome creature on the Rock.
He stepped back toward Daisy and old MacDowell. They stood huddled together, staring in shock, not able to move but wanting so desperately to run for their lives.
It all came back to Stanley: the filthy black shape, the coarse, hard coat that lay upon the huge arched back and the glowing eyes that seemed to hold them fixed right where they stood.
The grumbling low growl was meant for them, and Stanley was reminded that this horrible creature had already taken his good friend Phinn.
Saliva dribbled from its open mouth, and it circled them warily.
Just then, the familiar shape of young Berkeley trotted around the corner. He had his eyes to the ground, not realizing that in the short moments that he had been off skipping around the rocks the others had put themselves in great danger.
Berkeley stopped and looked up. At first he could see only his three friends huddled together and motionless. And then in front of them, something else became clear.
What at first he had thought was the shape of a bush or tree was, on closer inspection, the pure black silhouette of the wolf.
Berkeley rushed forward, running in front of his three rescuers, desperate to protect them. He put himself between them and the hulking great black shape.
To everyone’s great surprise, the wolf stepped back a touch as Berkeley moved in.
It looked hard into Berkeley’s eyes, and he stared hard back at it.
“Go,” he said quietly.
In a quick twist and turn, the wolf moved around and was off into the night. It let out a pained howl of a cry as it thundered over the sweeping lows and highs of the Rock.
The group stared in astonishment at Berkeley. What power did he possess, to have such influence over this creature?
“How on earth did you do that, Berkeley?” begged Stanley.
“Do what?” Berkeley quizzed.
“You made it go away. That crazed beast was about to rip us to shreds, and you told it go, and it did. How on earth did you do that?” he persisted.
“I did nothing, Stanley. It was my father.”
Berkeley walked on with his head down as the cry of the wolf echoed over the moor.
11
Extending the Alliance
The following day was split into two parts, and each part had its own dreaded task. The first: to sit and explain to Mr. and Mrs. Carelli, along with Lionel Grouse, Daisy’s uncle, and Mrs. Darkling, Berkeley’s mother, about what had happened the previous day and why they were all missing until long after dark.
Stanley and Daisy sat and listened in astonished disbelief at the tall tale that old MacDowell spun without even batting an eyelid. He was so convincing, Stanley almost believed it himself. Berkeley had been ordered to keep his mouth shut and let the bigger ones tell the tale, but his comical expressions questioned MacDowell’s every word.
The old buccaneer weaved a long tale about how they had promised to treat Berkeley to a day’s fishing and that they had all gone off in a boat together and got lost. And by the time they had found their way back it was ever so late, but they had been safe all along, and they even had the fish to prove it, but it had been left at the door in a panic when they heard the wolf, and the birds had been at it.
It was a good tale.
But not that good.
Mrs. Carelli had lived on the Rock long enough to know that his little story didn’t tie in with the tide times. Stanley was always up to something, that was to be expected, but she had a harsh view of MacDowell. He had lied to her too convincingly, and all her suspicions were aroused. She wondered if perhaps he was still up to his old pirate tricks.
The second task of the day was slightly harder. Stanley reminded MacDowell that the stone slab in Berkeley’s cellar needed replacing. It was foolish to have left it open like that for so long. Stanley had decided he trusted Berkeley, but the temptation would not be good for him.
Berkeley had reluctantly agreed to go along with the plan. “But Stanley, you said you’d play with me today,” he moaned.
“Berkeley, I promise you that once we have tied up all these odds and ends we will play.”
“Is that a real promise?” Berkeley pushed.
“More real than you could possibly imagine,”
Stanley insisted, and he held out his hand to plant a firm grip of confirmation upon his young friend.
Berkeley was to get his family out of the house under the pretense that they should take a family walk and try and forget their worries for the afternoon.
Mrs. Darkling was proud of her son. How thoughtful of him to be concerned about his mother and the well-being of his siblings!
They trotted along the harbor in a long line. Mrs. Darkling was at the front, followed by Annabelle, the eldest daughter, then Olive, Berkeley’s twin sister, and then at the back was Berkeley himself. Steadman trotted behind with his head held low, sniffing here and there and dragging rubbish out from the trash cans.
And at the same time, heading the other way toward the Darkling place, were MacDowell, Stanley, and Daisy. In a routine movement that had become all too familiar, they stole inside the Darkling cellar—in from the strength of the midday sun to the damp, cool, darkness below ground.
Inside, the cellar was untouched, with the flagstone lifted in the corner. Quite how Berkeley had lifted it the last time, they couldn’t work out. Perhaps his father had been in on the act with Berkeley and he hadn’t said. In all that had happened, Stanley had forgotten to ask him.
Below, they could hear the sea crashing against the Rock. The tide was retreating again, and they were able to stare down into the space below one last time. Then the flagstone was lowered down into position and cemented at the edges, and now the smugglers’ mine was sealed.
Peace of mind was already returning to Stanley.
But as the three conspirators left the Darkling cellar for the last time, the smugglers’ mine was still under threat of more exposure. Berkeley was being hounded by his sisters while Mrs. Darkling wandered up onto the moor with Steadman.
“Berkeley, we know where you went yesterday,” grinned Annabelle. Her expression disturbed him slightly.
“No you don’t,” he said.
“Yes we do,” continued Olive. “You disappeared down the little rabbit hole.”
“It isn’t a rabbit hole.”
“Yes it is, Berkeley. You’ve got a cute little rabbit and that’s where you keep it!” laughed Olive.
“No I haven’t. It’s a gold mine, with treasure, and dead pirates and … oh!” He began to cry. He had already broken his promise to Stanley about keeping his mouth shut.
The girls laughed.
“It’s all right, Berkeley. We’ve already seen it. We won’t tell anyone your little secret. When Mother sent us to find you, we saw the entrance to your little cave and we went inside,” explained Olive.
“We only came back because the water was too deep,” said Annabelle. “We’d like to take another look.”
“Absolutely not,” came a voice over their shoulders. It was Stanley, accompanied by Daisy and MacDowell.
“All done,” he said, nodding to Berkeley.
He’d had a feeling that the mine might have been found by the Darkling girls. It made sense that they would have looked all over the place for Berkeley the previous day, and now Stanley was forced to allow the girls into the secret alliance.
They were an elite group, held together by the fact that they were the only ones who knew the great secret of the Rock. No matter what they thought of one another, they had to agree that they would not let the secret out. It was for the good of the Rock, and for the safety of everyone, especially the Darklings, whose home made the entrance to the mines.
When Olive and Annabelle heard it explained to them like this, their faces changed. It was no longer a secret to taunt Berkeley with, it was their whole way of life that lay in danger. Not only the place they knew as home, but life on the Rock. They could never be anywhere else.
They stood in the square and held hands around the water fountain to form a ring. Taking turns, they each made a solemn promise to keep the secret to themselves and protect the future of the Rock.
12
The Turn-coat
Mrs. Carelli looked out from the lounge window. She was watching Stanley and Daisy running along the beach with the Darkling children, while Steadman trotted eagerly behind.
“He’s got in with a bad lot,” said Mrs. Carelli. “I don’t like it, Victor.”
“Ah, leave them be,” said Victor. “They’re only playing.” He was far more diplomatic than Mrs. Carelli, and whenever he showed such a reaction it always made her think twice. Was she being unnecessarily harsh? Perhaps so!
But little did they know that the five children, along with MacDowell (and Steadman, of course), had formed what they called the Secret-Keepers’ Alliance, and each of them (apart from Steadman) had promised to hold the secret close and never tell another living soul. And that way, the great secret of Crampton Rock would never leak out.
Stanley and Daisy sat together on the harbor wall. The Darkling children were running along the sand and MacDowell was being chased by Steadman. The dog hadn’t left him alone all afternoon.
“I think that MacDowell’s bony legs get Steadman’s appetite going,” remarked Stanley as they watched them flying past along the beach. “It’s like me or you having to stare closely at one of Mrs. Carelli’s pies!”
Daisy laughed. She loved Stanley’s way of always being able to make something funny.
But she couldn’t help being serious.
“Everything has changed. Our secret feels like public knowledge, Stanley. Suddenly, there are six of us. And what worries me is that we barely know the others”’
“I know,” Stanley started. “I feel the same, Daisy, I really do. But they barely know us either. We are all trusting each other. We were eager to get to the spot on the map, and I guess it landed us in a whole new mess with a brand-new set of problems. It was just an accident that we all ended up in it together, but I guess we all have one thing in common.”
“Which is?” she said, gazing up at him.
“We all want things to stay as they are, Daisy. We all love it here, and we’re happy.”
“But what about Edmund Darkling?” Daisy exclaimed. “He’s still at large, hiding out in the day and at night putting the whole place under threat. What about that? He’s the father to three of the people in the Secret-Keepers Alliance!”
“I know, Daisy but what can we do? We can only live with the situation. But one thing is for sure,” Stanley proclaimed. “When I first came here there was a werewolf at large. It kept this place quiet. It stopped pirates from arriving here and snooping around. It kept everyone indoors at night, especially those who might be up to no good, and it was the best form of security this place could possibly have had. So if there is such a thing as a good situation out of a bad one, then this might be a good example of it.”
“But the Darkling children plotted to kill you!” cried Daisy.
“Not really,” said Stanley. “They were forced into believing that their father’s way of thinking was right, that’s all!”
Daisy looked unsure, so Stanley persisted. “Deep down, I don’t think they’re so bad. I know it sounds crazy, but I think they were just doing as they were told. They have had a strange and severe upbringing. And while we’re here, do we make them into enemies or friends? Considering what they know, believe me, Daisy, we are better off as friends!”
Daisy knew he was right. However daft and clumsy Stanley was at times, deep down there was a good head on those shoulders.
The next day, the five children found themselves in the same spot. The sea was right up against the harbor wall as early evening arrived, and the lamps were lit across the seafront. A group of fishermen were huddling around a fire basket.
The children sat talking, and Stanley remembered something he had been meaning to ask Berkeley.
“Berkeley, tell me one thing,” began Stanley as the whole group listened in.
Berkeley walked toward Stanley along the harbor wall.
“Yes, Stanley, what is it?” he grinned.
“How on earth did you lift that slab of stone in the cellar? It’s
had me baffled for some time. I know you’re a strong little fellow, but those stones are huge. What did you do to lift it?”
“Nothing!” insisted Berkeley.
“What do you mean, nothing?” pushed Stanley.
“I mean, I didn’t do anything. It was already like that when I went down there,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.
“But we put it back, Daisy, didn’t we? We put it back! I know we did. No one could possibly say we didn’t put it back. I remember it so clearly,” Stanley insisted.
Just then, Daisy nudged Stanley and pointed him in the direction of a boat that was bobbing and swaying on the surf as it waited in the harbor. Someone was loading their things into the cabin.
“It’s Mister Mac!” said Berkeley.
And sure enough it was. Old MacDowell was packing his things into the boat. They wandered across and sat on the harbor in front of the small boat.
“Mac, what are you doing?” called Stanley. “This isn’t your boat!”
“Ahh, Stanley. Yer caught me red-’anded, lad. I’m leavin’ the Rock, so I am.”
“LEAVING?” they yelled.
“I’m sorry, kids,” he began. “I ain’t cut out for all this anymore. My days o’ wild adventures is over. I’m none too keen on the thought o’ werewolves wanderin’ around at night. I’m planning on livin’ a little bit longer, if yer know what I’m sayin’.”
“But you’re part of the alliance!” said Stanley. “You can’t leave here now. I thought you were happy at the Hall.”
“Stanley, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate yer hospitality an’ all that but I never intended stayin’ for ever. I like to move on now and again.”
“Well, at least let us help you with your things, said Stanley.