by Enid Blyton
The children sat in Sleepy Hollow after their tea and watched for Bill to come back. The sun began to set. Lucy-Ann looked pale and worried. Where was Bill?
‘He’ll be along soon, don’t worry,’ said Philip. ‘We’ll hear his boat presently.’
But the sun went right down into the sea, and still there was no Bill. The darkness closed down on the island, and there was no longer any point in sitting up and waiting. It was four anxious children who went into their tents and lay down to sleep. But none of them could sleep a wink.
In the end the girls went into the boys’ tent and sat there, talking. Then suddenly they heard a welcome sound – rr-rr-rr-rr-rr! They all leapt up at once and rushed from the tent.
‘That’s Bill! It must be! Where’s a torch? Come on down to the cove.’
They stumbled through the puffin colony, waking up many a furious bird. They got to the beach just as Bill came walking up. They flung themselves on him in delight.
‘Bill! Dear Bill! What happened to you? We honestly thought you’d got lost!’
‘Oh, Bill – we shan’t let you go off alone again!’
‘Sorry to have worried you so,’ said Bill. ‘But I didn’t want to return in the daylight in case I was spotted by an aeroplane. I had to wait till it was dark, though I knew you’d be worried. Still – here I am.’
‘But, Bill – aren’t you going to tell us anything?’ cried Dinah. ‘Why didn’t you want to come back in daylight? Who would see you? And why would it matter?’
‘Well,’ said Bill slowly, ‘there’s something peculiar going on up here in these lonely waters. I don’t know quite what. I’d like to find out. I didn’t see a soul today, anywhere, though I nosed round umpteen islands. Not that I really expected to, because nobody would be fool enough to come up here for something secret, and let anything of it be seen. Still, I thought I might find some sign.’
‘I suppose that bit of orange peel was a sign that someone’s here besides ourselves, on some other island?’ said Lucy-Ann, remembering the piece that had bobbed against her fingers. ‘But what are they doing? Surely they can’t do much in this desolate stretch of waters – with nothing but islands of birds around.’
‘That’s what I’m puzzled about,’ said Bill. ‘Can’t be smuggling, because the coasts of the mainland are very well patrolled at the moment, and nothing could get through. Then what is it?’
‘Bill, you’re sure nobody saw you?’ asked Dinah, anxiously. ‘There might be hidden watchers on one of the islands, you know – and one might see you, without you seeing him.’
‘That’s true,’ said Bill, ‘but I had to risk that. It’s not very likely, though. The risk of anyone coming to these islands and disturbing whatever secret game is going on, is very remote, and I don’t think there would be sentinels posted anywhere.’
‘Still – you might have been seen – or heard,’ persisted Dinah. ‘Oh, Bill – and you were supposed to be disappearing completely! Now perhaps your enemies have spotted you!’
‘They would hardly be the same enemies that I’ve disappeared from,’ said Bill with a laugh. ‘I don’t think anyone else would recognise me here, seen at a distance in a motor-boat. In any case they would just think I was a bird-man or a naturalist of some kind, who likes the solitude of these seas.’
They were soon back in their tents again, happy to have Bill with them in safety. The stars shone down from a clear sky. Huffin and Puffin shuffled down their burrow, glad that their new family had gone to rest. They did not approve of these night walks.
Lucy-Ann lay and worried. ‘I can feel an adventure coming. It’s on the way. Oh dear – and I did think this would be the very very last place for one.’
Lucy-Ann was quite right. An adventure was on the way – and had very nearly arrived.
13
What happened in the night?
The next morning everything seemed all right. The children had forgotten their fears of the night before, and Bill joked and laughed as merrily as the others.
But all the same he was worried – and when an aeroplane appeared and flew two or three times over the islands, he made the children lie down flat, in the middle of the puffin colony, where they happened to be at that moment.
‘I don’t think our tents can be seen,’ he said. ‘I hope not, anyway.’
‘Don’t want anyone to know we’re here, Bill?’ asked Jack.
‘No,’ said Bill shortly. ‘Not at present, anyway. If you hear a plane, bob down. And we won’t light a fire to boil a kettle. We’ll have ginger-beer or lemonade instead.’
The day passed happily enough. It was very hot again and the children went to bathe half a dozen times, lying in the sun to dry afterwards. Kiki was jealous of Huffin and Puffin because they could go into the water with the children. She stood on the sandy beach, her toes sinking in, shouting loudly.
‘Polly’s got a cold, send for the doctor! A-tish-ooooo!’
‘Isn’t she an idiot?’ said Jack, and splashed her. She was most annoyed and walked a bit farther back. ‘Poor Kiki! What a pity! Poor pity, what a Kiki!’
‘Yes, what a Kiki!’ shouted Jack, and dived under the water to catch Bill’s legs.
They took a good many photographs, and Huffin and Puffin posed beautifully, staring straight at the camera in a most solemn manner.
‘I almost feel they’ll suddenly put their arms round one another,’ said Jack, as he clicked the camera. ‘Thank you, Huffin and Puffin. Very nice indeed! But I wish you’d smile next time. Kiki, get out of the way – and leave that tent peg alone. You’ve already pulled up three.’
That night the sky was full of clouds and the sun could not be seen. ‘Looks as if that storm might be coming soon,’ said Bill. ‘I wonder if our tents will be all right.’
‘Well, there’s nowhere else to go,’ said Jack. ‘Sleepy Hollow is about the most sheltered place on this island. And, as far as I’ve seen, there are no caves or anything of that sort.’
‘Perhaps the storm will blow over,’ said Philip. ‘Phew, it’s hot! I really think I must have one last bathe.’
‘You’ve had eight already today,’ said Dinah. ‘I counted.’
Darkness came earlier that night, because of the clouds. The children got into their rugs, yawning.
‘I think,’ said Bill, looking at the luminous face of his wrist-watch, ‘I think I’ll slip along to the boat and send a message or two on my transmitter. I might get some news too, for myself. You go to sleep. I shan’t be long.’
‘Right,’ said the boys, sleepily. Bill slipped out of the tent. The girls were already asleep and did not hear him go. Philip fell asleep almost before Bill was out of the tent. Jack lay awake a few minutes longer, and pushed Kiki off his middle for the fifth time.
She went and stood on Philip’s middle, and waited for a lump to come near her feet, which she knew would be one of the tame rats. When one did venture near, raising a little mound under the rug, Kiki gave a sharp jab at it. Philip awoke with a yell.
‘You beast, Kiki! Jack, take her away! She’s given me an awful peck in my middle. If I could see her I’d smack her on the beak.’
Kiki retired outside the tent till the boys were asleep again. She flew to the top of it, and perched there, wide awake.
Meanwhile Bill was in the cabin of the boat tuning in on the radio. But because of the coming storm it was difficult to hear anything but atmospherics.
‘Blow!’ said Bill at last. ‘I shan’t get my messages through at this rate. I’ve a good mind to take the boat to the little channel – what is it the children call it? – Hidden Harbour. Maybe I could get the radio going better there – it’s so sheltered.’
It was very important to Bill to be able to use the radio that night. He set the engine of the boat going, and was soon on his way to Hidden Harbour. He nosed in carefully and moored the boat.
Then he set to work on his radio again. After a while he thought he heard some noise out to sea – a noise getting near
er and nearer. Bill turned off his radio and listened, but the wind was getting up, and he heard nothing but that.
He tuned the knobs again, listening intently for any message. He had got one through, and now he had been told to stand by and wait for an important announcement from headquarters.
The radio fizzed and groaned and whistled. Bill waited patiently. Then, suddenly hearing a sound, he looked up, startled, half expecting to see one of the boys coming down into the cabin.
But it wasn’t. It was a hard-faced man with a curious crooked nose who was staring down at him. As Bill turned and showed his face, the man uttered a cry of the utmost astonishment.
‘You! What are you doing here? What do you know of . . .’
Bill leapt up – but at the same moment the man lunged out at him with a thick, fat, knobbly stick he held in his hand – and poor Bill went down like a ninepin. He struck his head against the edge of the radio, and slid to the floor, his eyes closed.
The man with the crooked nose whistled loudly. Another man came to the small cabin and looked in.
‘See that?’ said the first man, pointing to Bill. ‘Bit of a surprise, eh, to find him up here? Do you suppose he guessed anything?’
‘Must have, if he’s here,’ said the second man, who had a short thick beard hiding a very cruel mouth. ‘Tie him up. He’ll be useful. We’ll make him talk.’
Bill was tied up like a trussed chicken. He did not open his eyes. The men carried him out, and took him into a small boat, moored beside the Lucky Star. It was a rowing-boat. Into it went poor Bill, and the men undid their rope, ready to row back to their own motor-boat, which lay, perfectly silent, a little way beyond the island.
‘Do you suppose there’s anyone else with him?’ asked the man with the crooked nose. ‘There was no one on board but him.’
‘No. When his boat was sighted yesterday, we only saw one man aboard – and it was him all right,’ said the man with the beard. ‘If there’d been anyone else we’d have seen them. He’s all alone. Ho! He didn’t know he was being watched all the way back here last night.’
‘I suppose there really isn’t anyone else here,’ said the first man, who seemed very reluctant to go. ‘Hadn’t we better smash up the boat – just in case?’
‘All right – and the radio too,’ said the man with the beard. He found a hammer and soon there were crashing sounds as the engine of the motor-boat was damaged and the beautiful little radio was smashed to bits.
Then the men set off in their rowing boat with the unconscious Bill. They reached their motor-boat, and soon the purring of its engine getting fainter and fainter sounded in the night. But nobody on Puffin Island heard it except Kiki and the sea-birds.
The children had no idea at all that Bill had not returned that night. They slept peacefully, hour after hour, dreaming of huffins and puffins, big waves and golden sands.
Jack awoke first. Kiki was nibbling at his ear. ‘Blow you, Kiki!’ said Jack, pushing the parrot away. ‘Oh, goodness, here’s Huffin and Puffin too!’
So they were. They waddled over to Philip and stood patiently by his sleeping face. ‘Arrrrrr!’ said Huffin lovingly.
Philip awoke. He saw Huffin and Puffin and grinned. He sat up and yawned. ‘Hallo, Jack!’ he said. ‘Bill up already?’
‘Looks like it,’ said Jack. ‘Probably gone to bathe. He might have waked us up though! Come on. Let’s wake the girls and go and bathe too.’
Soon all four were speeding to the sea, expecting to see Bill in the water. But he wasn’t.
‘Where is he, then?’ said Lucy-Ann, puzzled. ‘And good gracious – where’s the boat?’
Yes – where was the boat? There was no sign of it, of course. The children stared at the cove, puzzled and dismayed.
‘He must have taken it round to Hidden Harbour,’ said Jack. ‘Perhaps the radio wouldn’t work or something. It still feels stormy, and that might have upset it.’
‘Well, let’s go to Hidden Harbour then,’ said Philip. ‘Perhaps Bill got sleepy down there in the boat and thought he’d snuggle up in the cabin.’
‘He’s probably there,’ said Dinah. ‘Fast asleep too! Let’s go and give him a shock. We’ll halloo down into the cabin and make him jump. The sleepy-head!’
‘Oh, I do hope he’s there,’ said Lucy-Ann, shivering as much with worry as with cold.
They dressed quickly, shivering a little, for the sun was hidden behind angry-looking clouds. ‘I do hope the weather isn’t going to break up, just as we’ve begun such a lovely holiday,’ said Dinah. ‘Oh, Huffin, I’m sorry – but you got right under my feet. Did I knock you over?’
The puffin didn’t seem to mind having Dinah tread on it. It shook out its wings, said, ‘Arrrrr!’ and hurried on after Puffin, who was trying to keep pace with Philip.
They went across the puffin colony, and came to the cleft in the cliffs. There, below them, lay the motor-boat, swaying very gently as waves ran up under her, and then ran back again.
‘There she is!’ said Dinah in delight, ‘Bill did take her round to the harbour!’
‘He’s not on deck,’ said Jack. ‘He must be in the cabin. Come on.’
‘Let’s call him,’ said Lucy-Ann suddenly. ‘Do let’s. I want to know if he’s there.’
And before the others could stop her she shouted at the top of her voice, ‘BILL! OH, BILL, ARE YOU THERE?’
No Bill came out from the cabin, and for the first time a little uneasiness crept into the children’s minds.
‘BILL!’ yelled Jack, making everyone jump violently. ‘BILL! Come on out!’
No sound from the boat. Suddenly panic stricken, all four children stumbled down the rocky ledge to the boat. They jumped on board and peered down into the little cabin.
‘He’s not there,’ said Dinah, scared. ‘Well, where is he, then?’
‘He must be somewhere about, as the boat is still here,’ said Jack sensibly. ‘He’ll come along soon. Maybe he’s exploring somewhere on the island.’
They were just turning away when Philip caught sight of something. He stopped and clutched Jack, turning very pale.
‘What?’ said Jack, frightened. ‘What’s up?’
Silently Philip pointed to the radio. ‘Smashed!’ he said, in a whisper. ‘Smashed to bits! Who did it?’
Lucy-Ann began to cry. Jack went up on deck and had a look round, feeling sick and upset. Then Philip gave an anguished howl from the cabin that sent the others running to his side.
‘Look! The engine of the boat is smashed up too! Absolutely destroyed. My goodness – what’s been happening here?’
‘And where is Bill?’ said Dinah, in a husky whisper.
‘Gone. Kidnapped,’ said Philip slowly. ‘Someone came for him in the night. They don’t know we’re here, I suppose – they just thought Bill was alone. They’ve got him – and now we’re prisoners on Puffin Island and we can’t get away!’
14
A few plans
Everyone felt suddenly sick. Lucy-Ann sat down in a heap. Dinah joined her. The boys stood staring at the smashed engine as if they couldn’t believe their eyes.
‘It must be a nightmare,’ said Dinah at last. ‘It can’t be true. Why – why, everything was right as rain last night – and now . . .’
‘Now the boat’s smashed up so that we can’t get away, the radio is smashed so that we can’t get a message through – and Bill’s gone,’ said Philip. ‘And it isn’t a dream. It’s real.’
‘Let’s sit down in the cabin, all together,’ said Lucy-Ann, wiping her eyes. ‘Let’s sit close and talk. Let’s not leave each other at all.’
‘Poor Lucy-Ann!’ said Philip, putting his arm round her, as she sat down unsteadily. ‘Don’t worry. We’ve been in worse fixes than this.’
‘We haven’t!’ said Dinah. ‘This is the worst fix we’ve ever been in!’
Kiki felt the tenseness of all the children. She sat quietly on Jack’s shoulder, making little comforting noises. Huffin and Puffin
sat solemnly on the deck, staring fixedly in front of them. Even they seemed to feel that something awful had happened.
In the cabin, sitting close together, the children felt a little better. Jack rummaged in a tiny cupboard beside him and brought out some bars of chocolate. The children had had no breakfast, and although the shock they had had seemed to have taken their appetites away, they thankfully took the chocolate to nibble.
‘Let’s try and think out carefully exactly what must have happened,’ said Jack, giving a bit of his chocolate to Kiki.
‘Well – we know that Bill was worried about something,’ said Philip. ‘Those planes, for instance. He felt certain something peculiar was going on up here. And that’s why he went out by himself in the boat. He must have been seen.’
‘Yes – and maybe in some way his enemies got to know he was here,’ said Dinah. ‘They could have followed him a long way back, using field-glasses to keep him in sight. Anyway – it’s quite clear that they came looking for him here.’
‘And found him,’ said Jack. ‘What a pity he went off to tinker with the radio last night!’
‘Well, if he hadn’t, the enemy, whoever they are, would probably have searched the island and found us too,’ said Dinah. ‘As it is – they probably don’t know we’re here.’
‘It wouldn’t matter if they did know,’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘They’d be quite sure we couldn’t do any harm, living on an island we can’t get off!’
‘They got here – in a motor-boat probably,’ went on Jack. ‘Left the motor-boat out beyond, somewhere – and slipped inshore quietly in a rowing-boat. They must know this little channel – or maybe they saw a light from the boat. Bill would be sure to have the cabin light on, and it’s a pretty bright one.’
‘Yes. And they surprised him and knocked him out, I suppose,’ said Philip gloomily. ‘They’ve taken him away – goodness knows what’ll happen to him!’
‘They won’t – they won’t hurt him, will they?’ said Lucy-Ann in rather a trembly voice. Nobody answered.