by Enid Blyton
The children bathed their hot feet in the cool water. Then Jack caught sight of his precious eagles again. ‘Come on! We’ll see where they fly down to. I wish I’d brought my camera! I could have photographed their nest!’
6
How can they get in?
They were near to the castle by now. The great, thick walls rose up, far above their heads. There was no break in them, except about sixteen feet up, where slit windows could be seen.
‘It’s built of the big boulders we see all over the hillside,’ said Philip. ‘It must have been very hard work to take so many up here to build the castle. Look – over there are some bigger windows. I suppose that wicked old fellow Tassie was telling us about liked to have a little more light in his castle than slit windows give. It’s a funny place. You can quite well see where it has been patched up, can’t you?’
‘There are the eagles again!’ cried Jack. ‘They’re gliding down – and down. Watch them, everyone!’
The little company stood and watched the two big birds, whose span of wings was really enormous.
‘They’ve gone down inside the castle courtyard,’ said Jack. ‘That’s where they’ve got their nest, I bet! In the courtyard somewhere. I simply must find it.’
‘But you can’t possibly get into the courtyard,’ said Philip.
‘Where’s the gateway of the castle?’ demanded Jack, turning to Tassie.
‘At the front, where that landslide is,’ said Tassie. ‘You couldn’t get over the landslide without being in danger, and anyway if you did, you’d find the great gate shut. There’s another door, further along here, but that’s locked. You can’t get into the castle.’
‘Where’s the door along here?’ said Jack. They went further along, turned a corner of the castle wall, and came to a sturdy oak door, flush with the wall. The wall arched over it, and the door fitted exactly. Jack put his eye to the keyhole but could see nothing.
‘Do you mean to tell me there’s no other way into this castle?’ he said to Tassie. ‘What a peculiar place! It’s like a prison.’
‘That’s what it was,’ said Lucy-Ann, shivering as she remembered the story Tassie had told. A prison for poor wretched people who came here and couldn’t get away – and were never heard of again!’
Jack was in despair. To think that two rare eagles might be nesting in the courtyard on the other side of the wall – and he couldn’t get at them. It was too bad.
‘We must get in, we simply must,’ he said, and gazed up at the high windows. But there was no way of getting up there. The walls were far too smooth to climb. There was no ivy. The castle was impregnable.
‘People would have got in before now if there had been a way,’ said Philip. ‘It just shows there’s no way in if no one ever comes here.’
‘Tassie – don’t you know of a way?’ said Jack, turning to the little girl. She considered solemnly. Then she nodded her head.
‘I might know,’ she said. ‘I have never been. But it might be a way.’
‘Show us, quickly!’ said Jack eagerly.
Tassie led them further round the castle, towards the back of it. Here it was built almost into the cliff. A narrow, dark pathway led between the steep hillside and the back wall of the castle. It was almost a tunnel, for both wall and cliff practically met at one place.
Tassie came to a stop, and pointed up. The other four looked, and saw that there was one of the slit windows high up above them. They stared at Tassie, not seeing in the least how that helped them.
‘Don’t you see?’ said Tassie. ‘You could climb up the cliffside here, because it is all overgrown with creepers – and then, when you get opposite that window, you might put a branch of a tree across or something, and get in.’
‘I see what she means!’ said Philip. ‘If we could lug a plank or a bough up the side of the steep cliff here, that the castle backs on to – and put one end of it on to the windowsill, and the other firmly into the cliff- we could slide across and get in! It’s an idea!’
The rest of the company received this news with mixed feelings. Dinah was already afraid of bats in the dark and narrow passageway, and would willingly have gone back into the sunshine of the open hillside. Lucy-Ann didn’t like the idea of climbing the cliff and sliding across a dangerous branch that might slip, into the silent and deserted castle. Jack, on the other hand, thought it was well worth trying, and was eager to do so at once.
‘Put on the light,’ said Kiki earnestly from somewhere in the dark passage. ‘Put on the light.’
The children laughed. It was funny the way Kiki sometimes said what sounded like a very sensible sentence.
‘Let’s find a branch or something,’ said Jack. So they went out of the musty-smelling passage, and hunted for something to use as a bridge across to the window of the castle.
But there was nothing to be found at all. True, Philip found a dead branch, but it was so dead that it would have cracked at once under anyone’s weight. It was impossible to break off from a tree a branch big enough to be any use.
‘Blow!’ said Jack. ‘Anyway, let’s go back and see if we can climb up opposite the window. If we think we could get in the way Tassie suggests, we might come up tomorrow with a plank.’
‘Yes, it would be better to leave it till tomorrow, really,’ said Dinah, trying to see the time by her watch. ‘It’s getting rather late now. Let’s come up tomorrow with your camera, Jack.’
‘All right. But we’ll just see if it’s possible to climb in at that window first,’ said Jack. He tried to climb up the cliffside, but it was very steep, and he kept slipping down. Then Philip tried, and, by means of holding on tightly to some of the strongest of the creepers, he pulled himself up a little way.
But the creeper broke, and down he came, missing his footing at the bottom, and rolling over and over. Fortunately, except for a few bruises, he wasn’t hurt.
‘I’ll go,’ said Tassie. And up she went like a monkey. It was extraordinary the way she could climb. She was far better than any of them. She seemed to know just where to put her feet, and just which creeper to hold on to.
Soon she was opposite the slit window. The creepers grew very thickly on the cliffside there, and she held on to them whilst she peered across at the window.
‘I believe I could almost jump across to the sill,’ she called to the others.
‘Don’t you do anything of the sort,’ shouted back Philip at once. ‘Little donkey! You’d break both your legs if you fell! What can you see?’
‘Nothing much!’ called back Tassie, who still seemed to be considering whether or not to jump across and chance it. ‘There’s the window – very narrow, of course. I don’t know if we could squeeze through. And past the window I can see a room, but it’s so dark I can’t see if it’s big or small or anything. It looks very strange.’
‘I bet it does!’ said Jack. ‘Come on down, Tassie.’
‘I’ll just leap across and have a try at squeezing in,’ said Tassie, and poised herself for a jump. But a roar from Philip stopped her.
‘If you do that we’ll never let you go with us again. Do you hear? You’ll break your legs!’
Tassie thought better of her idea. The threat of never being allowed to go about with the children she so much liked and admired filled her with horror. She contented herself with one more look across at the window, and then she climbed down like a goat, landing directly beside the waiting children.
‘It’s just as well that you did as you were told,’ said Philip grimly. ‘Suppose you had got across – and squeezed inside – and then couldn’t get out again! You’d have been a prisoner in that castle for ever and ever!’
Tassie said nothing. She had great faith in her powers of climbing and jumping, and she thought Philip was making a fuss about nothing. Kiki, hearing Philip’s stern voice, joined in the scolding.
‘How many times have I told you to shut the door?’ she said, flying on to Tassie’s shoulder. Tassie laughed and scratched Kiki�
�s poll.
‘Only about a hundred times,’ she said, and the others laughed too. They made their way out of the dark tunnel-like passage, and were glad to be in the sun again.
‘Well, we know what to do, anyway,’ said Jack. ‘We’ll find a plank or something to bring up here tomorrow, and we’ll send Tassie up with it, and she can put it across from the cliffside to the window. We’ll give her a strong rope too, so that she can knot it to some of that creeper up there, and we can pull on it to help ourselves up. We’re not as goat-footed as Tassie.’
‘No, she’s marvellous,’ said Lucy-Ann, and Tassie glowed with pleasure. They made their way down the hillside again, finding it a little easier to climb down than up, especially as Tassie took them a good way she knew.
‘It’s really getting very late,’ said Jack. ‘I hope your mother won’t be anxious, Philip.’
‘Oh no,’ said Philip. ‘She’d know one of us would run down for help if anything happened.’
All the same, Mrs Mannering had been wondering what had become of the children and she was very glad to see them. She had supper ready for them, and Tassie was asked to stay too. She was thrilled, and tried to watch how the others ate and drank, as she had never been invited out before. Kiki sat on Jack’s shoulder, and fed on titbits that Jack and the others handed her, making odd remarks from time to time about putting the kettle on, and using handkerchiefs. Button curled up on Philip’s knee and went sound asleep. He was tired after his long walk, though Philip had carried him a good way.
‘You know, I half thought Button might run off when we took him out on the hillside he knows so well,’ said Philip. ‘But he didn’t. He didn’t even seem to think of it.’
‘He’s a darling,’ said Lucy-Ann, looking at the sleeping fox club, who had curled his sharp little nose into his big tail. ‘It’s a pity he’s a bit smelly.’
‘Well, he’ll get worse,’ said Philip. ‘So you might as well get used to it. Foxes do smell. I expect we smell just as strong to them.’
‘Oh! I’m sure we don’t,’ thought Lucy-Ann. ‘Oh dear, how sleepy I am!’
They were all sleepy that night. The long climb in the sunshine had tired them out. ‘Let’s go to bed,’ said Philip with such a loud yawn that Button woke up with a jump. ‘We’ve got an exciting day tomorrow, with a lot of climbing again. Don’t forget to look out your camera, Jack.’
‘Oh yes – I simply must take a snap of the eagles!’ said Jack. ‘Golly, we’ll have some fun tomorrow!’
Then up they went to bed, yawning. Kiki yawned the loudest – not that she was tired, but it was a lovely noise to copy!
7
Inside the Castle of Adventure
The next day Button woke Philip by licking the bare sole of his foot, which was sticking out from the bedclothes. Philip woke with a yell, for he was very ticklish there.
‘Stop it, Jack!’ he shouted, and then looked in surprise across the room, where Jack was just opening startled eyes. ‘Oh – it’s all right – it’s only Button. Button, you are never to lick the soles of my feet!’
Jack sat up, grinning. He rubbed his eyes and stretched. Then his glance fell on his fine camera, which he had put ready to take up the hill with him that day, and he remembered what they had planned.
‘Come on – let’s get up,’ he said to Philip, and jumped out of bed. ‘It’s a gorgeous day, and I’m longing to go up to the castle again. I might get some wonderful pictures of those eagles.’
Philip was almost as interested in birds as Jack was. The boys began to talk about eagles as they dressed. They banged at the girls’ door as they went down. Mrs Mannering was already up, for she was an early riser. A smell of frying bacon arose on the air.
‘Lovely!’ said Jack sniffing. ‘Kiki, don’t stick your claws so hard into my shoulder. I got sunburnt yesterday and it hurts.’
‘What a pity, what a pity!’ said Kiki, in sorrowful tones. The boys laughed.
‘You’d almost think she really did understand what you say,’ said Philip.
‘She does!’ said Jack. ‘I say, what about getting a plank or something now, whilst we’re waiting for breakfast – you know, to put across to the windowsill of the castle?’
‘Right,’ said Philip, and they wandered out into the sunshine, still sniffing the delicious smell of frying bacon, to which was now added the fragrance of coffee. Button trotted at Philip’s heels, nibbling them gently every time the boy stopped. He did not dare to go near Jack, for if he did Kiki swooped down on him in a fury, and snapped her curved beak at him.
The boys went into the shed where the car was kept. They soon found just what they wanted – a stout plank long enough to reach from the cliff wall to the sill. ‘Golly! It will be pretty heavy to carry!’ said Jack. ‘We’ll all have to take turns at it. It wouldn’t do to have a smaller one – it just might not reach.’
The girls came out and the boys showed them what they had found. In the night Lucy-Ann had made up her mind she wouldn’t do any plank-climbing or castle-exploring, but now, in the warm golden sunshine, she altered her mind, and felt that she couldn’t possibly be left out of even a small adventure.
‘Mother, could we go off for the whole day this time?’ said Philip. ‘Jack’s got his camera ready. We’re pretty certain we know where those eagles are now, and we shall perhaps be able to take some good pictures of them.’
‘Well, it’s a lovely day, so it would do you good to go off picnicking,’ said his mother. ‘Oh, do stop Kiki taking the marmalade, Jack! Really, I shan’t have that bird at the table any more, if you can’t make it behave. It ate half the raspberry jam at tea yesterday.’
‘Take your nose out of the marmalade, Kiki,’ said Jack sternly, and Kiki sat back on his shoulder, offended. She began to imitate Mrs Mannering crunching up toast, eyeing her balefully the whole time, annoyed at being robbed of the marmalade. Mrs Mannering had to laugh.
‘You’re not going on that landslide, are you?’ she said, and the children shook their heads.
‘No, Mother. Tassie showed us another way. Hallo, here she is. Tassie, have you had your breakfast?’
Tassie was peeping in at the kitchen window, her eyes bright under their tangle of hair. Mrs Mannering sighed. ‘I might as well not have bothered myself to give her a bath,’ she said. ‘She’s just as dirty as ever. I did think that she would like feeling clean.’
‘She doesn’t,’ said Dinah. ‘All she liked was that smell of carbolic, Mother. If you want to make Tassie wash herself, you’ll have to present her with a bar of strong carbolic soap!’
Tassie, it appeared, had had her breakfast some time before. She climbed in at the window and accepted a piece of toast and marmalade from Philip. Kiki at once edged over to her hopefully. She liked toast and marmalade. Tassie shared it with the parrot.
The five children set off soon after breakfast. Dinah carried the knapsack of food. Lucy-Ann carried Jack’s precious camera. Tassie carried Kiki on her shoulder, very proudly indeed. The two boys carried the plank between them.
‘Take us the shortest way you know, Tassie,’ begged Jack. ‘This plank is so awkward to carry. I say, Philip, did you think to bring a rope too? I forgot.’
‘I’ve tied one round my waist,’ said Philip. ‘It’s long enough, I think. Button, don’t get under my feet like that, and don’t ask to be carried when I’ve got to take this tiresome plank up the hill!’
With many rests, the little party went up the steep hill towards the castle. Jack kept a lookout for the eagles, but he didn’t see either of them. Kiki flew off to have a few words with some rooks they met, and then flew back again to Tassie’s shoulder. She couldn’t understand why Tassie carried shoes round her neck, and pecked curiously at the laces, trying to get them out of the shoes.
At last they arrived at the castle, and made their way round the great wall to the back, where the wall of the castle ran level with the side of the hill.
‘Here we are at last,’ said Jack, panting, and p
ut the plank down thankfully. ‘You girls coming into the passageway to watch us putting the plank in place, or not?’
‘Yes, rather,’ said Dinah. They all went into the tunnellike passage, which smelt mustier than ever, after the clean heathery smell outside.
They came to where they had climbed up the day before. ‘Tassie, you go up first, and tie this rope firmly to a stout creeper stem,’ said Philip, giving her the rope, which he had untied from his waist. ‘Then we can all pull ourselves up by it without slipping.’
Tassie climbed up the creeper-clad wall easily. She stopped opposite the slit window of the castle. She tied the rope firmly round a strong creeper stem, and then tested it by leaning forward with all her weight on it.
‘Look out, silly!’ shouted Philip. ‘If that rope gives you’ll fall on top of us.’
But it didn’t give. It was quite safe. Tassie grinned down at them and then slid down, holding the rope, and landed beside them on her toes.
‘You ought to be in a circus,’ said Jack. But Tassie looked blank. She had no idea what a circus was.
Philip had another, shorter piece of rope. ‘That’s to haul up the plank with,’ he said. ‘Now, let’s tie the plank firmly with this rope, and I’ll drag it up after me as I climb up. Here goes!’
Holding with one hand on to the rope that now hung down from the creeper, and with the other to the rope that dragged the plank, Philip started up the steep cliff wall. But he needed both hands to help himself up, and had to slide down again.
‘Tie the plank to my waist,’ he said to Jack. ‘Then I can have both hands to help myself up with, and the plank will come up behind me by itself.’
So the plank was tied to his waist, and then the boy went up again, this time pulling himself with both hands on the rope. His feet slipped, but he went on upwards, feeling the drag of the heavy plank on his waist.
At last he was opposite the castle window. He could see nothing inside the window at all, except black darkness. He began to try and clear a place to fix in one edge of the plank.