Five Go Down To The Sea
Chapter
One
THE
HOLIDAY BEGINS
‘Blow!
I’ve got a puncture!’ said Dick. ‘My tyre’s going flat. Worst time it could
possibly happen!’
Julian
glanced down at Dick’s back tyre. Then he looked at his watch. ‘You’ve just got
time to pump it up and hope for the best,’ he said. ‘We’ve got seven minutes
before the train goes.’
 The others got off their bicycles, too, and stood
round, watching to see if the tyre blew up well or not.
They
were on their way to Kirrin Station to catch the train, bicycles and all. Their
luggage had gone on in advance, and they thought they had left plenty of time
to ride to the station, get their bicycles labelled and put in the luggage van,
and catch the train comfortably.
‘We
can’t miss the train!’ said George, putting on her best scowl. She always hated
it when things went wrong.
‘We
can. Easiest thing in the world!’ said Julian, grinning at George’s fierce
face. ‘What do you say, Timmy?’
Timmy
barked sharply, as if to say he certainly agreed. He licked George’s hand and
she patted him. The scowl left her face as she saw Dick’s tyre coming up well.
They’d just do it!
‘Phew!
That was hot work,’ he said, mounting his bicycle. ‘Hope it will last till we
get to the station. I was afraid you’d have to go without me.’
‘Oh,
no,’ said Anne. ‘We’d have caught the next train. Come on, Timmy!’
The
four cousins and Timmy the dog raced on towards the station. They cycled into
the station yard just as the signal went up to show the train was due. The
porter came towards them, his big round face red and smiling.
‘I
sent your luggage off for you,’ he said. ‘Not much between you, I must say -
just one small trunk!’
‘Well,
we don’t wear much on holidays,’ said Julian. ‘Can you label our bikes quickly
for us? I see the train is due.’
The
porter began to label the four bicycles. He didn’t hurry. He wouldn’t let the
train go off again till he had done his job, that was certain. There it was
now, coming round the bend.
‘You
going off to Cornwall, I see?’ said the porter. ‘And to Tremannon, too. You
want to be careful of bathing there. That’s a fierce coast and a hungry sea.’
‘Oh,
do you know it?’ said Anne, surprised. ‘Is it a nice place?’
‘Nice?
Well, I dunno about that,’ said the porter, raising his voice as the train came
rumbling in. ‘I used to go out in my uncle’s fishing-boat all round there, and it’s
wild and lonely. I shouldn’t have thought it was much of a place for a holiday
- no pier, no ice-cream sellers, no concert parties, no cinema, no...’
‘Good,’
said Julian. ‘We can do without all those, thank you. We mean to bathe, and
hire a boat, and fish, and bike all round about. That’s our kind of holiday!’
‘Woof!’
said Timmy, wagging his tail.
 ‘Come on, we’d better get
into a carriage.’
‘I’ll
see to your bikes,’ said the porter. ‘Have a good holiday, and if you see my
uncle, tell him you know me. His name’s same as mine, John Polpenny.’
‘
“By Tre, Pol and Pen, you may know the Cornishmen”,’ quoted Julian, getting
into a carriage with the others. ‘Thanks, John. We’ll look up your uncle if we
can!’
They
each took a corner seat, and Timmy went to the opposite door, put his feet up
on the ledge and his nose out of the window. He meant to stand like that all
the way! He loved the rush of air past his nose.
‘Timmy,
come down,’ said George.
Timmy
took no notice. He was happy. It was holidays again, and he was with everybody
he loved. They were going away together. There might be rabbits to chase. Timmy
had never yet caught a rabbit, but he went on hoping!
‘Now,
we’re off again!’ said Julian, settling into his corner. ‘Gosh, how I do like
the beginnings of a holiday, getting ready, looking at maps, planning how to
get there, and then at last setting off!’
‘On
a lovely fine day like this!’ said Anne. ‘George, how did your mother hear of
Tremannon Farm?’
‘Well,
it was Father who heard about it, really,’ said George. ‘You know Father’s got
a lot of scientist friends who like to go off to lonely places and work out all
kinds of ideas in peace and quiet. Well, one of them went to Tremannon Farm because
he heard it was one of the quietest places in the kingdom. Father said his
friend went there all skin and bone and came back as fat as a Christmas goose,
and Mother said that sounded just the place for us to go to these hols!’
‘She’s
right!’ said Dick. ‘I feel a bit skin-and-bonish myself after slaving at school
for three months. I could do with fattening up!’
They
all laughed. ‘You may feel skin-and-bonish, but you don’t look it,’ said
Julian.  We’ll get it, too.
We’ll walk and bike and bathe and climb...’
‘And
eat,’ said George. ‘Timmy, you must be polite to the farm dogs, or you’ll have
a bad time.’
‘And
you must remember that when you go out to play, you’ll have to ask the other
dogs’ permission before you can chase their rabbits,’ said Dick solemnly.
Timmy
thumped his tail against Dick’s knees and opened his mouth to let his tongue
hang out. He looked exactly as if he were laughing.
‘That’s
right. Grin at my jokes,’ said Dick. ‘I’m glad you’re coming, Tim, it would be
awful without you.’
‘He
always has come with us, on every holiday,’ said George. ‘And he’s shared in
every single adventure we’ve ever had.’
‘Good
old Timmy,’ said Julian. ‘Well, he may share in one this time, too. You never
know.’
‘I’m
not going to have any adventures this time,’ said Anne in a firm voice. ‘I just
want a holiday, nothing more. Let’s have a jolly good time, and not go on
looking for anything strange or mysterious or adventurous.’
‘Right,’
said Julian. ‘Adventures are off this time. Definitely off. And if anything
does turn up, we pooh-pooh it and walk off. Is that agreed?’
‘Yes,’
said Anne.
‘All
right,’ said George, doubtfully.
‘Fine,’
said Dick.
Julian
looked surprised. ‘Gosh, you’re a poor lot, I must say. Well, I’ll fall in with
you, if you’re all agreed. Even if we find ourselves right in the very middle
of Goodness Knows What, we say “No, thank you” and walk away. That’s agreed.’
‘Well,’
began George, ‘I’m not sure if...’ But what she wasn’t sure about nobody knew
because Timmy chose that moment to fall off the seat. He yelped as he hit the
floor with a bang, and immediately went back to his post at the window, putting
his head right out.
 ‘He might get something
in his eye.’
‘No.
I’m not going to cook slowly to a cinder in this hot carriage with all the
windows shut, not even for the sake of Timmy’s eyes,’ said Julian, firmly. ‘If
you can’t make him obey you and come inside, he can jolly well get something in
his eye.’
However,
the problem was solved very quickly because at that moment the train gave a
most unearthly shriek and disappeared headlong into utter blackness. Timmy,
astounded, fell back into the carriage and tried to get on to George’s knee,
terrified.
‘Don’t
be a baby, Timmy,’ said George. ‘It’s only a tunnel! Ju, haul him off me. It’s
too hot to try and nurse a heavy dog like Timmy.
The
journey seemed very long. The carriage was so hot, and the train stopped at so
many little out-of-the-way places, sometimes for ten minutes at a time. They
had to change twice, and sit on sun-baked stations waiting for their next train
to come along. Timmy panted loudly and hung his tongue out; George begged the
porters for water at each changing-place.
They
had their lunch with them, but somehow they weren’t hungry. They got dirtier
and dirtier, and thirstier and thirstier, for they very quickly drank the
orangeade they had brought with them.
‘Phew!’
said Julian, fanning himself with a magazine. ‘What wouldn’t I give for a
bathe? Timmy, don’t pant all over me.
‘Well,
we have to get out at Polwilly Halt,’ said Julian. ‘That’s the nearest place to
Tremannon Farm. We bike from there. With luck, we should be there by tea-time.’
‘We
ought to have brought masses more to drink,’ said Dick. ‘I feel like a man
who’s been lost in a sun-scorched desert for weeks.’
They
were all extremely glad when they at last arrived at Polwilly Halt. At first
they didn’t think it was a halt, but it was. It was nothing but a tiny wooden
stage built beside the railway. The children sat and waited. They hadn’t even
seen the little wooden stage or the small sign that said ‘Polwilly Halt’.
The
sound of impatient feet came along the little platform. The guard’s perspiring
face appeared at the window.
‘Well?
Didn’t you want to get out here?
Is this Polwilly?’ said Julian, leaping up. ‘Sorry. We didn’t know it was a
Halt. We’ll be out in half a tick.’
The
train started off almost before they had banged the door. They stood there on
the funny little staging, all alone save for their four bicycles at the other
end. The little Halt seemed lonely and lost, set in the midst of rolling fields
and rounded hills. Not a building was in sight!
But
not far off to the west George’s sharp eyes saw something lovely. She pulled
Julian’s arm. ‘Look, the sea! Over there, between the hills, in the dip. Can’t
you see it? I’m sure it’s the sea. What a heavenly blue.’
‘It’s
always that gorgeous blue on the Cornish coast,’ said Dick. ‘Ah, I feel better
when I see that. Come on, let’s get our bikes and find our way to Tremannon
Farm.
They
went to get their bikes. Dick felt his back tyre. It was a bit soft, but not
too bad. He could easily pump it up again. ‘How far is it to Tremannon Farm?’
he asked.
Julian
looked at his notes. ‘ “Get out at Polwilly Halt. Then bike four miles to
Tremannon Farm, along narrow lanes. Tremannon Village is about one mile before
you get to the farm.” Not too bad. We might get some lemonade, or even an
ice-cream, in the village.’
‘Woof,
woof,’ said Timmy, who knew the word ice-cream very well indeed.
‘Poor
Tim!’ said Anne. ‘He’ll be so hot running beside our bikes. We’d better go
slowly.’
‘Well,
if anyone thinks I’m going to tear along, he can think again,’ said Dick. ‘I’ll
go as slowly as you like, Anne!’
 They
went slowly for Timmy’s sake. He panted along valiantly. Good old Timmy! He
would never give up as long as he was with the four children.
It
was about five o’clock and a very lovely evening. They met nobody at all, not
even a slow old farm cart. It was even too hot for the birds to sing. No wind
blew. There seemed a curious silence and loneliness everywhere.
Julian
looked back at the other three with a grin. ‘Adventure is in the air! I feel
it. We’re all set for adventure! But no, we’ll turn our backs on it and say:
“Away with you!” That’s agreed!’
Chapter
Two
TREMANNON
FARM
It
certainly was a lovely ride to Tremannon Farm. Poppies blew by the wayside in
hundreds, and honeysuckle threw its scent out from the hedges as they passed.
The corn stood high in the fields, touched with gold already, and splashed with
the scarlet of the poppies.
They
came to Tremannon Village at last. It was really nothing but a winding street,
set with a few shops and houses, and beyond that, straggling out, were other
houses. Farther off, set in the hills, were a few farm-houses, their grey stone
walls gleaming in the sun.
The
four children found the general store and went in. ‘Any ice-cream?’ said Julian
hopefully. But there was none. What a blow! There was orangeade and lemonade,
however, quite cool through being kept down in the cellar of the store.
‘You
be the folks that old Mrs Penruthlan be having in?’ said the village shopkeeper.
‘She do be expecting of you. Furriners, bain’t you?’
‘Well,
not exactly,’ said Julian, remembering that to many Cornish folk anyone was a
foreigner who did not belong to Cornwall.  So we’re not exactly “furriners”, are we?’
‘You’re
furriners all right,’ said the bent little shopkeeper, looking at Julian with
bird-like eyes. ‘Your talk is furrin-like, too. Like that man Mrs Penruthlan
had before. We reckoned he was mad, though he was harmless enough.’
‘Really?’
said Julian, pouring himself out a third lemonade. ‘Well, he was a scientist,
and if you’re going to be a really good one you have to be a bit mad, you know.
At least, so I’ve heard. Golly, this lemonade is good. Can I have another bottle,
please?’
The
old woman suddenly laughed, sounding just like an amused hen. ‘Well, well,
Marty Penruthlan’s got a fine meal ready for you, but seems like you won’t be
able to eat a thing, not with all that lemonade splashing about in your
innards!’
‘Don’t
say you can hear the splashing,’ said Julian earnestly. ‘Very bad manners,
that! Furriners’ manners, I’m sure. Well, how much do we owe you? That was
jolly good lemonade.’
He
paid the bill and they all mounted their bicycles once more, having been given
minute directions as to how to get to the farm. Timmy set off with them,
feeling much refreshed, having drunk steadily for four minutes without
stopping.
‘I
should think you’ve had about as much water as would fill a horse-trough,
Timmy,’ Julian told him. ‘My word, if this weather holds we’re going to look
like Red Indians!’
It
was an uphill ride to Tremannon Farm, but they got there at last. As they
cycled through the open gates, a fusillade of barks greeted them, and four
large dogs came flying to meet them. Timmy put up his hackles at once and
growled warningly. He went completely stiff, and stood there glaring.
 ‘Now, Ben; now,
Bouncer! Here, Nellie, here! Bad dog, Willy! It’s all right, children, that’s
their way of saying “Welcome to Tremannon Farm!” ’
The
dogs now stood in a ring round the four children, their tongues out, their
tails wagging vigorously. They were lovely dogs, three collies and one small
black Scottie. Timmy eyed them one by one. George had her hand on his collar,
just in case he should feel foolhardy all of a sudden and imagine he could take
on all four dogs single-handed.
But
he didn’t. He behaved like a perfect gentleman! His tail wagged politely, and
his hackles went down. The little Scottie ran up to him and sniffed his nose.
Timmy sniffed back, his tail wagging more vigorously.
Then
the three sheepdogs ran up, beautiful collies with plumy tails, and the
children heaved sighs of relief to see that the farm dogs evidently were not
going to regard Timmy as a ‘furriner’!
‘They’re
all right now,’ said Mrs Penruthlan. ‘They’ve introduced themselves to one
another. Now come along with me. You must be tired and dirty - and hungry and
thirsty. I’ve high tea waiting for you.’
She
didn’t talk in the Cornish way. She was pleased to see them and gave them a
grand welcome. She took them upstairs to a bathroom, big but primitive. There
was one tap only and that was for cold water. It ran very slowly indeed!
But
it was really cold, and was lovely and soft to wash in. The tired children
cleaned themselves and combed their hair.
They
had two bedrooms between them, one for the girls and one for the boys. They
were rather small, with little windows that gave a meagre amount of light, so
that the rooms looked dark even in the bright evening sunshine.
They
were bare little rooms, with two beds in each, one chair, one chest of drawers,
one cupboard and two small rugs. Nothing else! But, oh! the views out of the
windows!
Miles
and miles of countryside, set with cornfields, pasture land, tall hedges and
glimpses of winding lanes; heather was out on some of the hills, blazing purple
in the sun; and, gleaming in the distance was the dark blue brilliance of the
Cornish sea. Lovely!
‘We’ll
bike to the sea as soon as we can,’ said Dick, trying to flatten the few hairs
that would stick up straight on the top of his head. There are caves on this
coast. We’ll explore them. I wonder if Mrs Penruthlan would give us picnic
lunches so that we can go off for the day when we want to.’
‘Sure
to,’ said Julian. ‘She’s a pet. I’ve never felt so welcome in my life. Are we
ready? Come on down, then. I’m beginning to feel very empty indeed.’
The
high tea that awaited them was truly magnificent. A huge ham gleaming as pink
as Timmy’s tongue; a salad fit for a king. In fact, as Dick said, fit for
several kings, it was so enormous. It had in it everything that anyone could
possibly want.
‘Lettuce,
tomatoes, onions, radishes, mustard and cress, carrot grated up - that is carrot,
isn’t it, Mrs Penruthlan?’ said Dick. ‘And lashings of hard-boiled eggs.’
There
was an enormous tureen of new potatoes, all gleaming with melted butter,
scattered with parsley. There was a big bottle of home-made salad cream.
‘Look
at that cream cheese, too,’ marvelled Dick, quite overcome. ‘And that fruit
cake. And are those drop-scones, or what? Are we supposed to have something of
everything, Mrs Penruthlan?’
‘Oh,
yes,’ said the plump little woman, smiling at Dick’s pleasure. ‘And there’s a
cherry tart made with our own cherries, and our own cream with it.  I’ve had seven of my own, all married and gone away. So I
have to make do with other people’s when I can get them.’
‘I’m
jolly glad you happened to get hold of us,’ said Dick, beginning on ham and
salad. ‘Well, we’ll keep you busy, Mrs Penruthlan. We’ve all got big
appetites!’
‘Ah,
I’ve not met any children yet that could eat like mine,’ said Mrs Penruthlan,
sounding really sorry. ‘Same as I’ve not met any man that can eat like Mr
Penruthlan. He’s a fine eater, he is. He’ll be in soon.’
‘I
hope we shall leave enough for him,’ said Anne, looking at the ham and the
half-empty salad dish.  ‘Thin as my husband’s old rake, he was, and all his bones
showing and creaking. He said “No” to this and “No” to that, but I took no notice
of him at all. If he didn’t eat his dinner, I’d take his tray away and tidy it
up, and then in ten minutes I’d take it back again and say: “Dinner-time, sir,
and I hope you’re hungry!” And he’d start all over again, and maybe that time
he’d really tuck in!’
‘But
didn’t he know you’d already taken him his dinner-tray once?’ said Julian,
astonished. ‘Goodness, he must have been a dreamer.’
‘I
took his tray in three times once,’ said Mrs Penruthlan. ‘So you be careful in
case I do the same kind of thing to you!’
‘I
should love it!’ grinned Julian. ‘Yes, please, I’d like some more ham. And more
salad.’
Footsteps
came outside the room, on the stone floor of the hall. The door opened and the
farmer himself came in. The children stared at him in awe.
He
was a strange and magnificent figure of a man - tall, well over six feet,
broadly built, and as dark as a sunburnt Spaniard.
‘This
is Mr Penruthlan,’ said his wife, and the children stood up to shake hands,
feeling half afraid of this dark giant.
He
nodded his head and shook hands. His hand was enormous, and was covered with
hairs so thick and black that it was like fur. Anne felt that it would be quite
nice and soft to stroke, like a cat’s back!’
He
didn’t say a word, but sat down and let his wife serve him. ‘Well, Mr
Penruthlan,’ she said, ‘and how’s the cow getting along?’
‘Ah,’
said the farmer, taking a plate of ham. The children gazed at the slices in
awe, seven or eight of them. Goodness!

‘Red
and white, like its mother! That’s good, isn’t it?’ said his wife, who seemed
to have a miraculous way of interpreting his ‘Ahs’. ‘What shall we call it?’
Everyone
badly wanted to say ‘Ah’, but nobody dared. However, Mr Penruthlan didn’t say
‘Ah’ that time, but something that sounded like ‘Ock’.
‘Yes,
we’ll call it Buttercup, then,’ said his wife, nodding her head. ‘You always
have such good ideas, Mr Penruthlan.’
It
sounded odd to hear her call her husband by his surname like that, and yet,
somehow, the children couldn’t imagine this giant of a fellow even owning a
name like Jack or Jim. They went on with their own meal, enjoying every minute
of it, watching Mr Penruthlan shovel in great mouthfuls, and working his way
quickly through every dish. Mrs Penruthlan saw them watching him.
‘He’s
a grand eater, isn’t he?’ she said, proudly. ‘So were all my children. When
they were at home, I was kept really busy, but now, with only Mr Penruthlan to
feed, I feel quite lost. That’s why I like people here.
They
all laughed, and Timmy barked. He had had a wonderful meal, too, it was the
remains of Mrs Penruthlan’s big stock-pot, and was very tasty indeed. He had
also got the largest bone he had ever had in his life. The only thing that
really worried the well-fed Timmy now was, where could he put the bone out of
the way of the farm dogs?
Mr
Penruthlan suddenly made a peculiar noise and began undoing a trouser pocket at
the back. ‘Oo-ah!’ he said, and brought out a dirty, folded piece of paper. He
handed it to his wife, who unfolded it and read it. She looked up at the
children, smiling.
‘Now,
here’s a bit of excitement!’ she said. ‘The Barnies will be along this week!
You’ll love them.’
‘What
are the Barnies?’ asked George, puzzled at Mrs Penruthlan’s evident pleasure
and excitement.
‘Oh,
they’re travelling players that wander round the countryside and play and act
in our big barns,’ said Mrs Penruthlan. ‘We’ve no cinemas for miles, you know,
so the Barnies are always very welcome.’
‘Oh,
you call them Barnies because they use your barns for their shows,’ said Anne,
seeing light. ‘Yes, we shall love to see them, Mrs Penruthlan. Will they play
in your barn?’
‘Yes.
We’ll have all the village here when the Barnies come,’ said Mrs Penruthlan,
her cheeks going red with delight. ‘And maybe people from Trelin Village, too.
Now, there’s a treat for you!’
‘Ah,’
said Mr Penruthlan, and nodded his great head. Evidently he liked the Barnies,
too. He gave a sudden laugh and said something short and quite
incomprehensible.
‘He
says you’ll like Clopper the horse,’ said his wife, laughing. ‘The things he
does! The way he sits down and crosses his legs. Well, you wait and see. That
horse!’
This
sounded rather astonishing. A horse that sat down and crossed its legs? Julian
winked at Dick. They would most certainly see the Barnies!
Chapter
Three
THE
FIRST EVENING
After
their wonderful high tea the four children didn’t really feel like doing very
much. Dick thought he ought to mend his puncture, but wasn’t sure that he could
bend over properly!
Mrs
Penruthlan began to stack the dishes and clear away. George and Anne offered to
help her. ‘Well, that’s kind of you, Anne and Georgina,’ said the farmer’s
wife. ‘But you’re tired tonight. You can give me a hand some other time. By the
way, which of you is which?’
‘I’m
Anne,’ said Anne.
‘And
I’m George, not Georgina,’ said George. ‘So please don’t call me that. I hate
it. I always wanted to be a boy, so I only like to be called George.’
‘What
she really means is that she won’t answer unless you do call her George,’ said
Anne.
So
out they went, George really looking far more like a boy than a girl, with her
grey shorts and shirt and her short, curly hair and freckled face. She put her
hands in her pockets and tried to walk like Dick!
Dick
soon found his puncture and mended it. Mr Penruthlan came by with some straw
for his cow and new calf. The boys watched him in awe, for he was carrying
almost a wagon load of straw tied up in bales! What strength he had! He nodded
to them and passed without a word.
‘Why
doesn’t he talk?’ wondered Dick. ‘I suppose all his seven children take after
their talkative mother, and he never had a chance to get a word in. And it’s
too late now, he’s forgotten how to!’
They
laughed. ‘What a giant of a man,’ said Julian. ‘I hope I grow as big as that.’
‘I
don’t. I’d hate to have my bare feet poking out of the bottom of the bed every
night,’ said Dick. ‘There. I’ve finished that puncture. See the nail that made
it? I must have run over it on the way to the station this morning.’
‘Do
look at Timmy,’ said Julian.
So
he was, bounding here and there, rushing round the dogs and then rushing away,
jumping on first one and then another, till they all went down in an excited,
yapping scrum, the little Scottie doing his best to keep up with everything!
‘Timmy’s
going to have a good time here,’ said Dick. ‘And he’ll soon lose his beautiful
waist-line if he eats as well as we do!’
‘We’ll
take him on long bike rides,’ said Julian. ‘He can’t grow much tummy if he runs
for miles!’
The
girls came up just then.
‘Who’s
this?’ said Dick.
‘I
don’t know,’ said George. ‘He suddenly appeared behind us and has been
following us ever since. Ht just won’t go away!’
The
boy wore a ragged pair of pants and a shirt with no sleeves or buttons. He was
black-eyed and burnt dark-brown by the sun. He stood a few feet away and
stared.
‘Who
are you?’ said Dick. The boy went back a few steps in fright. He shook his
head.
‘I
said, who are you?’ said Dick again. ‘Or, if you prefer it another way, what’s
your name?’
‘Yan,’
said the boy.
‘Yan?’
said Dick.
The
boy nodded. ‘Iss. Yan,’ he said.
‘I
suppose “Iss” means “Yes”,’ said Anne. ‘All right, Jan. You can go now.’
‘I
stay,’ said the boy solemnly. ‘Iss.’
And
stay he did, following them about everywhere, gazing at all they did with the
utmost curiosity, as if he had never in his life seen children before!
‘He’s
like a mosquito,’ said Dick. ‘Always buzzing around. I’m getting tired of it.
Hey, Yan!’
‘Iss?’
‘Clear
out now! Understand?  Yan stared.
Mrs
Penruthlan came out and heard all this. ‘Jan bothering you?’ she said. ‘He’s as
full of curiosity as a cat. Go home, Jan. Take this to your old Grandad. And
here’s some for you.’
Jan
came up eagerly and took the packet of food Mrs Penruthlan held out to him, and
the slice of cake. He ran off without a word, his bare feet making no sound.
‘Who
is he?’ asked George.  ‘He’s got no kith or kin except
for his old great-gran-dad, and there’s more than eighty years between them!
The old man is our shepherd. Do you see that hill over there, well, he’s got a
hut on the other side, and there he lives, winter and summer alike, and that
child with him.’
‘Surely
he ought to go to school?’ said Julian. ‘Perhaps he does?’
‘No,’
said Mrs Penruthlan. ‘He plays truant nearly all the time. You ought to go and
talk to his old great-grandad. His father was one of the Wreckers on this
coast, and he can tell you some strange stories about those dreadful days.’
‘We’ll
certainly go and talk to him,’ said Dick. ‘I’d forgotten that this Cornish
coast was the haunt of Wreckers. They shone false lights to bring ships in
close to shore, so that they would be smashed to pieces on the rocks, didn’t
they?’
‘Yes,
and then they robbed the poor, groaning ship when she was helpless,’ said Mrs
Penruthlan. ‘And it’s said they paid no heed to the drowning folk, either.
Those were wicked days.’
‘How
far is it to cycle to the sea?’ said George. ‘I can see it from my bedroom
window.’
‘Oh,
it won’t take you more than ten minutes,’ said the farmer’s wife. ‘Go tomorrow,
if you like. You all look very tired now. Why don’t you take a short walk and
go to bed? I’ll have a snack ready for you when you come in.’
‘Oh,
we couldn’t possibly eat any more tonight, thank you,’ said Dick, hurriedly.
‘But the walk is quite a good idea. We’d like to see round the farm.’
Mrs
Penruthlan left them, and Dick looked round at the others. ‘A snack!’ he said.
‘I never thought I’d groan at the thought. But I bet Mr Penruthlan will want a
jolly good snack when he comes in. Come on, let’s go up by those sheds.’
They
went off together, Timmy following behind with his four friends, their tails
wagging amiably. It was still a lovely evening, and a cool breeze came down
from the hills, making it lovelier still. The children wandered round, enjoying
the familiar farm sights, the ducks on the pond, a few hens still clucking
round, the grey sheep dotting the hills. Cows were peacefully grazing and an
old farm horse came to a gate to stare at them.
They
rubbed his velvety nose, and he bent down to sniff at Timmy, whom he didn’t
know. Timmy sniffed solemnly back.
They
went into the barns and looked around, big, dark, sweet-smelling places, stored
with many things. Dick was sure that the biggest one would be the one used by
the Barnies. What fun!
‘I
bet they’ll be pretty awful, but good fun, all the same,’ he said. ‘It must be
grand to wander round the countryside with all your belongings done up in a
parcel or two, and then amaze the country people with your songs and dances and
acting. I wouldn’t mind trying it myself! I’m pretty good at a spot of
conjuring, for instance!’
‘Yes,
you are,’ said Anne. ‘Wouldn’t it be fun if we could give a little show too, if
the Barnies would let us join them just for one evening?’
‘We
wouldn’t be allowed to because we’re “furriners”,’ said Dick, grinning. ‘I say,
what’s that, over there, behind that sack?’
Timmy
at once went to see, and stood there barking. The others went over to look.
‘It’s
that kid Yan again,’ said Julian, in disgust. He pulled the boy out from his
hiding-place.  ‘We don’t like it. See?  Go on, now.’
He
pushed the boy out of the barn, and watched him go into the next field. ‘That’s
got rid of him,’ he said. ‘I think he’s a bit simple. We’ll go and see that
Grandad of his one day and see if he really has got anything interesting to say
about the old Wreckers.’
‘Let’s
go back now,’ said Dick, yawning. ‘I’ve seen enough of this place to know I’m
going to like it a lot. I’m going to like my bed tonight too. Coming, Ju?’
They
all felt the same as Dick. His yawn had set them yawning, too, and they thought
longingly of bed. They made their way back to the farm, followed closely by
Timmy at their heels, and the other four dogs a respectful distance away.
They
said good night to the two Penruthlans, who were sitting peacefully listening
to their radio. Mrs Penruthlan wanted to come up with them but they wouldn’t
let her.
They
said good night to the farmer, who grunted ‘Ah!’ without even looking at them,
and went on listening to the radio programme. Then up the stairs they went, and
into their rooms.
When
Julian was in bed and almost asleep he heard a scrabbling noise outside his
window. He half-opened his eyes, and listened. He hoped it wasn’t rats! If it
was, Anne would probably hear them too, and be scared, and Timmy would hear
them and bark the place down!
The
scrabbling noise came again. Julian spoke softly to Dick. ‘Dick! Are you awake?
Did you hear that noise at the window?’
No
answer.  Julian lay and listened. Yes, there it was
again, and now surely there was someone trying to peep in at the tiny window?
He
slid out of bed and went to the side of the window. Thick ivy grew outside.
Somebody was still there for Julian could see the leaves shaking.
He
put his head suddenly out of the window, and a scared face, quite close to his,
stared in fright.
‘Yan!
What do you think you’re doing?’ said Julian, fiercely.  What’s so queer about us?’
Yan
was terrified. He suddenly slithered down the ivy like a cat, landed with a
slight thud on the ground and then ran off into the twilight at top speed.
‘I
hope he’s not going to follow us around all the time,’ thought Julian, getting
into bed again. ‘I’ll teach him a lesson if he does. Blow him! Now he’s made me
wide awake!’
Rut
it wasn’t long before Julian was sleeping as soundly as Dick.
‘Cock-a-doodle-DOO!’
The
boys woke with a jump. The early sun streamed into the room, and Julian glanced
at his watch. How early it was! And yet he could hear movements downstairs that
told him Mrs Penruthlan was up and about, and so was her giant of a husband.
He
fell asleep again, and was awakened by a loud knock at his door, and Mrs
Penruthlan’s voice. ‘It’s half past seven, and breakfast will be on the table
for you at eight. Wake up!’
How
lovely to wake in a strange place at the beginning of a holiday, to think of
bathing and biking and picnicking and eating and drinking, forgetting all about
exams and rules and punishments! The four children and Timmy stretched
themselves and stared at the sunshine outside.
Downstairs
breakfast awaited them. ‘Super!’ said Dick, eyeing the bacon and fried eggs,
the cold ham, and the home-made jam and marmalade. ‘Mrs Penruthlan, your seven
children must have been very sorry to marry and leave home. I feel, if I’d been
one of them, I’d have stayed with you for the rest of my life!’
Chapter
Four
DOWN
IN THE COVE
The
first three days at Tremannon Farm were lazy, uneventful days, full of
sunshine, good food, dogs - and of little Yan.
He
really was a perfect nuisance. The four children seemed to have a real
fascination for him, and he trailed them everywhere, following them
bare-footed. He turned up behind hedges, along lanes, at their picnicking
places, his dark eyes watching them intently.
‘What’s
the good of telling him to go?’ groaned Julian. ‘He disappears behind one hedge
and appears out of another. You’d think he’d get bored, doing this shadowing
business all the time. What’s the point of it, anyway?’
‘No
point,’ said George. ‘Just curiosity. What I can’t understand is why Timmy puts
up with him. You’d think he’d bark or growl or something, but he’s quite silly
with Yan, lets him play with him, and roll him over as if he was a mad puppy.’
‘Well,
I’m going to find this Great-Grandad of his tomorrow, and tell him to keep Yan
with him,’ said Julian. ‘He’s maddening. I feel I want to swot him like a gnat,
always buzzing round us. Gosh, there he is again!’
So
he was.  Timmy bounded up to him in glee, and made such a fuss of Yan
that George was quite disgusted.
‘Timmy!
Come here!’ she called, imperiously. ‘Don’t you understand that you ought to
chase Yan away when he comes and not encourage him? I’m ashamed of you!’
Timmy
put his tail down and went to her. He sat down beside her with a bump. Dick
laughed.
‘He’s
sulking! He won’t look at you, George! He’s turning his head away on purpose!’
Julian
chased Yan away, threatening him with all sorts of things if he caught him, but
the boy was as fast as a hare, and seemed suddenly to disappear into thin air.
He had a wonderful way of vanishing, and an equally remarkable way of appearing
again.
‘I
don’t like that kid,’ said Julian. ‘He makes me shiver down my back whenever I
see him suddenly peeping somewhere.’
‘He
can’t be a bad kid, though, because Timmy likes him so much,’ said Anne, who
had great faith in Timmy’s judgment. ‘Timmy never likes anyone horrid.’
‘Well,
he’s made a mistake this time, then,’ said George, who was cross with Timmy.
 I’m not pleased with you, Timmy!’
‘Let’s
go down to the sea and bathe,’ said Dick. ‘We’ll go on our bikes and Yan won’t
be able to pop up and watch us there.’
They
took their bicycles and rode off to the coast. Mrs Penruthlan made them
sandwiches and gave them fruit cake and drinks to take with them. They saw Yan
watching them from behind a hedge as they went.
They
took the road to the sea. It was no more than a narrow lane, and wound about
like a stream, twisting and turning so that they couldn’t get up any speed at
all.
‘Look
- the sea!’ cried Dick, as they rounded one last bend. The lane had run down
between two high, rocky cliffs, and in front of them was a cove into which
raced enormous breakers, throwing spray high into the air.
They
left their bicycles at the top of the cove, and went behind some big rocks to
change into bathing things. When they came out, Julian looked at the sea. It
was calm beyond the rocks, but over these the waters raged fiercely and it was
impossible to venture in.
They
walked a little way round the cliffs, and came to a great pool lying in a rocky
hollow. ‘Just the thing!’ cried George and plunged in. ‘Gosh, it’s cold!’
It
should have been hot from the sun, but every now and again an extra large wave
broke right into the pool itself, bringing in cooler water. It was fun when
that happened. The four of them swam to their hearts’ content, and Timmy had a
fine time too.
They
picnicked on the rocks, with spray flying round them, and then went to explore
round the foot of the cliffs.
‘This
is exciting,’ said George. ‘Caves, and more caves, and yet more caves! And cove
after cove, all as lovely as the one before. I suppose when the tide’s in, all
these coves are shoulder-high in water.’
‘My
word, yes,’ said Julian, who was keeping a very sharp eye indeed on the tide.
‘And a good many of these caves would be flooded too. No wonder Mrs Penruthlan
warned us so solemnly about the tides here! I wouldn’t want to try and climb up
these cliffs if we were caught!’
Anne
looked up and shivered. They were so very steep and high. They frowned down at
her as if to say ‘We stand no nonsense from anyone! So look after yourself!’
‘Well,
I’m blessed! Look there, isn’t that that tiresome little wretch of a Yan?’ said
Dick, suddenly. He pointed to a rock covered with seaweed. Peeping from behind
it was Yan!
‘He
must have run all the way here, and found us,’ said Julian, in disgust. ‘Well,
we’ll leave him here. It’s time we went. The tide’s coming in. It’ll serve him
right to find us gone as soon as he arrives. He must be mad!’
‘Do
you think he knows about the tide?’ said Anne, looking worried. ‘I mean, knows
that it’s coming in and might catch him?’
‘Of
course he knows!’ said Julian. ‘Don’t be silly. But we’ll wait and have our tea
at the top part of the cove, if you like. That’s the only way back, if he wants
to escape the tide, short of climbing the cliff, which no one would be mad
enough to try!’
They
had put aside some cake and biscuits for their tea, and they found a good
picnicking place at the top of the cove where they had left their bicycles.
They settled down to munch the solid fruit cake that Mrs Penruthlan had given
them. There was no doubt about it, she was a wonderful cook!
The
tide swept in at a great rate, and soon the noise of enormous waves pounding on
the rocks grew louder. ‘Yan hasn’t appeared yet,’ said Anne. ‘Do you think he’s
all right?’
‘He
must be having a good old wetting if he’s still there,’ said Dick. ‘I think
we’d better go and see. Much as I dislike him I don’t want him to be drowned.’
The
two boys went down the cove as far as they could, peering round the cliff to
where they had seen Yan hiding. But how different it all looked now!
‘Gosh,
the beach is gone already!’ said Julian, startled. ‘I can see how easily anyone
could get caught by the tide now, see that last wave, it swept right into that
cave we explored!’
‘What’s
happened to Yan?’ said Dick. ‘He’s nowhere to be seen. He didn’t come out of
the cove; we’ve been sitting there all the time. Where is he?’
 He hesitated. Should they
wade over the rocks a little way? The next wave decided him. It would be folly
to do any such thing! Another wave like that and both he and Dick would be
flung off the rock they were standing on!
 Even so, the wave lapped right up to
their feet.
They
went back to the girls. ‘Can’t see him anywhere,’ said Julian, speaking more
cheerfully than he felt. ‘The whole beach is covered with the tide now, more
than covered. The lower caves are full too.’
‘He
- he won’t be drowned, will he?’ said Anne, fearfully.
‘Oh,
I expect he can look after himself,’ said Julian. ‘He’s used to this coast.
Come on, it’s time we went.’
They
all rode off, Timmy running beside their bicycles. Nobody said anything. They
couldn’t help feeling worried about Yan. Whatever could have happened to him?
They
arrived at the farm and put their bicycles away. They went in to find Mrs
Penruthlan. They told her about Yan, and how he had disappeared.
‘You
don’t think he might have been swept off his feet and drowned, do you?’ asked
Anne.
Mrs
Penruthlan laughed. ‘Good gracious, no! That boy knows his way about the
countryside and the seashore blindfold. He’s cleverer than you think. He never
misses anything! He’s a poor little thing, but he looks after himself all
right!’
This
was rather comforting. Perhaps Yan would turn up again, with his dark eyes
fixed unblinkingly on them!
After
a high-tea as good as any they had had, they went for a walk down the
honeysuckle-scented lanes, accompanied as usual by the five dogs. They sat on a
stile, and Dick handed round some barley-sugar.
‘Look!’
said George suddenly. ‘Do you see what I see? Look!’  The others stared up into it.
Two
dark eyes stared back. Yan! He had followed them as usual, and had hidden
himself to watch them. Anne was so tremendously relieved to see him that she
called to him in delight.
‘Oh,
Yan! Have a barley-sugar?’
Yan
slithered down the tree at top speed and came up. He held out his hand for the
barley-sugar.  Anne stared at him. Why, he was a dear little fellow! His eyes
shone and twinkled, and a dimple came in each cheek.
‘Here
you are, here’s a couple more sweets for you,’ Dick said, very glad to see that
the small boy hadn’t been drowned. Yan almost snatched them from him! lt was
plain that he very, very seldom had any sweets! Timmy was making a fuss of him
as usual. He lay down on his back and rolled over Yan’s feet. He licked his
bare knees and arms, and jumped up at him, almost knocking the boy down. Yan
laughed, and fell on Timmy, rolling over and over with him. Julian, Dick and
Anne watched and laughed.
But
George was not pleased. Timmy was her dog, and she didn’t like him to make a
fuss of anyone she disapproved of. She was glad that Yan was safe but she still
didn’t like him! So she scowled, and Julian nudged Dick to make him see the
scowl, George saw him and scowled worse than ever.
‘You’ll
be sorry you gave him sweets,’ she said. ‘He’ll be round us worse than ever
now.’
Yan
came up after a minute or two, sucking all three sweets at once, so that his
right cheek was very swollen indeed.
‘Come,
see my Granddad,’ he said, earnestly, talking even worse than usual because of
the sweets. ‘I tell him ’bout you all. He tell you many things.’
He
stared at them all seriously. ‘Grandad likes sweets too,’ he added, solemnly.
‘Iss. Iss, he do.’
Julian
laughed. ‘All right. We’ll come and see him tomorrow afternoon. Now you clear
off or you won’t get any more sweets. Understand?’
‘Iss,’
said Yan, nodding his head.
‘Clear
off now,’ said Julian again. ‘But wait a bit, I’ve just thought; how did you
get away from that beach this afternoon? Did you climb that cliff?’
‘No,’
said Yan, shifting his sweets to the other cheek. ‘I came the Wreckers’ Way. My
Grandad learnt it me.’
He
was off and away before anyone could ask him another question. The four looked
at one another. ‘Did you hear that?’ said Julian. ‘He went the Wreckers’ Way.
What’s that, do you suppose? We must have been on one of the beaches the
wreckers used long, long ago.’
‘Yes.
But how did he get off that beach, and away into safety?’ said Dick. ‘I’d like
to know more about the Wreckers’ Way! I certainly think we’d better pay a visit
to old Great-Grandad tomorrow. He might have some very interesting things to
tell us.’
‘Well,
we’ll go and see him,’ said George, getting up. ‘But just you remember what I
said. Yan will pester us more than ever now we’ve encouraged him.’
‘Oh
well, he doesn’t seem such a bad kid after all,’ said Dick, remembering that
sudden smile and the eager acceptance of a few sweets. ‘And if he persuades
Grandad to let us into the secret of Wreckers’ Way, we might have some fun
doing a bit of exploring. Don’t you think so, Ju?’
‘It
might even lead to an adventure,’ said Julian, laughing at Anne’s serious face.
‘Cheer up, Anne. I can’t even smell an adventure in Tremannon. I’m just pulling
your leg!’
‘I
think you’re wrong,’ said Anne. ‘If you can’t smell one somewhere, I can. I
don’t want to, but I can!’
Chapter
Five
YAN
- AND HIS GRANDAD
The
next day was Sunday. It made no difference to the time that the two Penruthlans
got up, however. As Mrs Penruthlan said, the cows and horses, hens and ducks
didn’t approve of late Sunday breakfasts! They wanted attending to at exactly
the same time each day!
‘Will
you be going to church?’ asked Mrs Penruthlan. ‘It’s a beautiful walk across
the fields to Tremannon Church, and you’d like Parson. He’s a good man, he is.’
‘Yes,
we’re all going,’ said Julian. ‘We can tie Timmy up outside. He’s used to that.
And we thought we’d go up and see your old shepherd this afternoon, Mrs
Penruthlan, and see what tales he has to tell.’
‘Yan
will show you the way,’ said the farmer’s wife, bustling off to her cooking.
‘I’ll get you a fine Sunday dinner. Do you like fresh fruit salad with cream?’
‘Rather!’
said everyone at once.
‘Can’t
we help you to do something?’ said Anne. ‘I’ve just seen all the peas you’re
going to shell. Piles of them! And don’t you want help with those red currant?
I love getting the currants off their stalks with a fork!’
‘Well,
you’ll have a few odd minutes before you go to church, I expect,’ said Mrs
Penruthlan, looking pleased. ‘It would be a bit of help today. But the boys
needn’t help.’
‘I
like that!’ said George, indignantly. ‘How unfair! Why shouldn’t they, just
because they’re boys?’
‘Don’t
fly off the handle, George,’ grinned Dick. ‘We’re going to help, don’t worry.
We like podding peas too! You’re not going to have all the treats!’
Dick
had a very neat way of turning the tables on George when he saw her flying into
a tantrum. She smiled unwillingly. She was always jealous of the boys because
she so badly wanted to be one herself, and wasn’t! She hitched up her shorts,
and went to get a pan of peas to shell.
Soon
the noise of the popping of pads was to be heard, a very pleasant noise, Anne
thought. The four of them sat on the big kitchen step, out in the sun, with
Timmy sitting beside them, watching with interest. He didn’t stay with them
long though.
Up
came his four friends, the little Scottie trotting valiantly behind, trying to
keep up with the longer legs of the others. ‘Woof!’ said the biggest collie.
Timmy wagged his tail politely, but didn’t stir.
‘Woof!’
said the collie again, and pranced around invitingly.
‘Timmy!
He says “Will you come and play?” ’ said George. ‘Aren’t you going? You aren’t
the least help with shelling peas, and you keep breathing down my neck.’
 He pounced on the
Scottie, rolled him over, and then took on all three collies at once. They were
big, strong dogs, but no match for Timmy!
‘Look
at him,’ said George, proudly. ‘He can manage the whole lot single-handed.’
‘Single-footed!’
said Dick. ‘He’s faster than even that biggest collie and stronger than the whole
lot. Good old Tim. He’s come in jolly useful in some of our adventures!’
‘I’ve
no doubt he will again,’ said Julian. ‘I’d rather have one Timmy than two
police-dogs.’
‘I
should think his ears are burning, the way we’re talking about him!’ said Anne.
‘Oh, sorry, Dick, that pod popped unexpectedly!’
‘That’s
the second lot of peas you’ve shot all over me,’ said Dick, scrabbling inside
his shirt. ‘I must just find one that went down my neck, or I shall be
fidgeting all through church.’
‘You
always do,’ said Anne. ‘Look - isn’t that Yan?’
It
was! He came sidling up, looking as dirty as ever, and gave them a quick smile
that once more entirely changed his sullen little face. He held out his hand,
palm upwards, and said something.
‘What’s
he saying?’ said Dick. ‘Oh, he’s asking for a sweet.’
‘Don’t
give him one,’ said Julian, quickly. ‘Don’t turn him into a little beggar. Make
him work for a sweet this time. Yan, if you want a sweet, you can help pod
these peas.’
Mrs
Penruthlan appeared at once. ‘But see he washes those filthy hands first,’ she
commanded, and disappeared again. Yan looked at his hands, then put them under
his arm-pits.
‘Go
and wash them,’ said Julian. But Yan shook his head, and sat down a little way
away from them.
‘All
right. Don’t wash your hands. Don’t shell the peas. Don’t have a sweet,’ said
George.
Yan
scowled at George. He didn’t seem to like her any more than she liked him. He
waited till someone split a pod, and a few peas shot out on to the ground
instead of into the dish. Then he darted at them, picked them up and ate them.
He was as quick as a cat.
‘My
Grandad says come see him,’ announced Yan. ‘I take you.’
‘Right,’
said Julian. ‘We’ll come this afternoon. We’ll get Mrs Penruthlan to pack us up
a basket, and we’ll have tea in the hills. You can share it if you wash your
hands and face.’
‘I
shouldn’t think he’s ever washed himself in his life,’ said George. ‘Oh, here’s
Timmy come back.  Here,
Timmy!’
But
Timmy darted to Yan with the greatest delight and pawed at him to come and have
a game. They began to roll over and over like two puppies.
‘If
you’re going to church, you’d better get ready,’ said Mrs Penruthlan, appearing
again, this time with arms floured up to the elbow. ‘My, what a lot of peas
you’ve done for me!’
‘I
wish I had time to do the red currants,’ said Anne. ‘We’ve practically finished
the peas, anyway, Mrs Penruthlan. We’ve done thousands, I should think!’
‘Ah,
Mr Penruthlan is real fond of peas,’ said the farmer’s wife. ‘He can eat a
whole tureen at one sitting.’
She
disappeared again. The children went to get ready for church, and then off they
went. It certainly was a lovely walk over the fields, with honeysuckle trailing
everywhere!
The
church was small and old and lovely. Yan went with them, trailing behind, right
to the church door. When he saw George tying Timmy up to a railing, he sat down
beside him and looked pleased. George didn’t look pleased, however. Now Timmy
and Yan would play about together all the time she was in church! How annoying!
The
church was cool and dark, except for three lovely stained-glass windows through
which the sun poured, its brilliance dimmed by the colours of the glass.
‘Parson’ was as nice as Mrs Penruthlan had said, a simple, friendly person
whose words were listened to by everyone, from an old, old woman bent almost
double in a corner to a solemn-eyed five year old clutching her mother’s hand.
It
was dazzling to come out into the sun again from the cool dimness of the church.
Timmy barked a welcome. Yan was still there, sitting with his arm round Timmy’s
neck. He gave them his sudden smile, and untied Timmy, who promptly went mad
and tore out of the churchyard at sixty miles an hour. He always did that when
he had been tied up.
‘You
come see Grandad,’ said Yan to Dick, and pulled at his arm.
‘This
afternoon,’ said Dick. ‘You can show us the way. Come after dinner.’
So,
after the children had had a dinner of cold boiled beef and carrots, with a
dumpling each, and ‘lashings’ of peas and new potatoes, followed by a truly
magnificent fruit salad and cream, Yan appeared at the door to take them to his
Grandad.
‘Did
you see the amount of peas that Mr Penruthlan got through?’ said Anne, in awe.
‘I should think he really did manage a tureen all to himself. I wish he’d say
something beside “Ah” and “Ock” and the other peculiar sounds he makes.
Conversation is awfully difficult with him.’
‘Is
Yan taking you up to Grandad?’ called Mrs Penruthlan. ‘I’ll put a few cakes in
the basket for him, too, then, and for Grandad.’
‘Don’t
put us up a big tea,’ begged Dick. ‘We only want a snack, just to keep us going
till high-tea.’
But
all the same the basket was quite heavy when Mrs Penruthlan had finished
packing it!
It
was a long walk over the fields to the shepherd’s hut. Yan led the way proudly.
They crossed the fields, and climbed stiles, walked up narrow cart-paths, and
at last came to a cone-shaped hill on which sheep grazed peacefully. Half-grown
lambs, wearing their woolly coats, unlike the shorn sheep, gambolled here and
there - then remembered that they were nearly grown up, and walked sedately.
The
old shepherd was sitting outside his hut, smoking a clay pipe. He wasn’t very
big, and he seemed shrivelled up, like an apple stored too long. But there was
still sweetness in him, and the children liked him at once. He had Yan’s sudden
smile, that lighted up eyes that were still as blue as the summer sky above
them.
His
face had a thousand wrinkles that creased and ran into one another when he smiled.
His shaggy eye-brows, curly beard and hair were all grey, as grey as the woolly
coats of the sheep he had lived with all his life.
‘You
be welcome,’ he said, in his slow Cornish voice. ‘Yan here have told me about
you.’
‘We’ve
brought our tea to share with you,’ said Dick. ‘We’ll have it later on. Is it
true that your father was one of the Wreckers in the old days?’
The
old fellow nodded his head. Julian got out a bag of boiled sweets, and offered
them to the old man. He took one eagerly. Yan edged up at once and was given
one too.
Judging
by the crunching that went on old Gran-dad still had plenty of teeth! When the
sweet had gone, he began to talk. He talked slowly and simply, almost as Yan
might have done, and sometimes paused to find a word he wanted.
Living
with sheep all his life doesn’t make for easy talking, thought Julian,
interested in this old man with the wise, keen eyes. He must be much more at
home with sheep than with human beings.
Grandad
certainly had some interesting things to tell them, dreadful things, Anne
thought.
‘You’ve
seen them rocks down on Tremannon coast,’ began Grandad. ‘Wicked rocks they be,
hungry for ships and men. There’s many a ship been wrecked on purpose! Ay, you
can look disbelieving-like, but it’s true.’
‘How
did they get wrecked on purpose?’ asked Dick. ‘Were they lured here by a false
light, or something?’
The
old man lowered his voice as if he was afraid of being overheard.
‘Way
back up the coast, more than a hundred years ago, there was a light set to guide
the ships that sail round here,’ said Grandad. ‘They were to sail towards that
light, and then hug the coast and avoid the rocks that stood out to sea. They
were safe then. But, on wild nights, a light was set two miles farther down the
coast, to bemuse lost ships, and drag them to the rocks round Tremannon coves.’
‘How
wicked!’ said Anne and George together. ‘How could men do that?’
‘It’s
fair amazing what men will do,’ said Grandad, nodding his head. ‘Take my old
Dad now - a kind man he was and went to church, so he did, and took me with
him. But he was the one that set the false light burning every time, and sent
men to watch the ship coming in on the rocks - crashing over them to break into
pieces.’
‘Did
you - did you ever see a ship crashing to its death?’ asked Dick, imagining the
groaning of the sailing ships, and the groaning of the men flung into the
raging sea.
‘Ay.
I did so,’ said Grandad, his eyes taking on a very far-away look. ‘I were sent
to the cove with the men, and had to hold a lantern to bemuse the ship again
when she came to the rocks. Poor thing, she groaned like a live thing, she did,
when she ran into them wicked rocks, and split into pieces. And next day I went
to the cove to help get the goods that were scattered all around the cove.
There were lots drownded that night, and...’
‘Don’t
tell us about that,’ said Dick, feeling sick. ‘Where did they flash the false
light from? From these hills, or from the cliff somewhere?’
‘I’ll
show you where my Dad flashed it from,’ said Grandad, and he got up slowly.
‘There’s only one place on these hills where you could see the light
a-flashing. The wreckers had to find somewhere well hidden, so that their
wicked light couldn’t be seen from inland, or the police would stop it, but it
could be seen plainly by any ship on the sea near this coast!’
He
took them round his hill, and then pointed towards the coast. Set between two
hills there the roof of a house could just be seen, and from it rose a tower.
It could only be seen from that one spot! Dick took a few steps to each side of
it, and at once the house disappeared behind one or other of the hills on each
side of it.
‘I
were the only one that ever knew the false light could be seen from inland,’
said Grandad, pointing with his pipe-stem towards the far-off square tower. ‘I
were watching lambs one night up here, and I saw the light a-flashing. And I
heard there was a ship wrecked down in Tremannon cove that night so I reckoned
it were the wreckers at work.’
‘Did
you often see the light flashing over there, when you watched the sheep ?’
asked George.
‘Oh
ay, many a time,’ said the shepherd. ‘And always on wild, stormy nights, when
ships were labouring along, and in trouble, looking for some light to guide
them into shore. Then a light would flare out over there, and I’d say to meself
“Now may the Good God help those sailors tonight, for it’s sure that nobody
else will!” ’
‘How
horrible!’ said George, quite appalled at such wickedness. ‘You must be glad
that you never see that false light shining there on stormy nights now!’
Grandad
looked at George, and his eyes were scared and strange. He lowered his voice
and spoke to George as if she were a boy.
‘Little
master,’ he said, ‘that light still flares on dark and stormy nights. The place
is a ruin, and jackdaws build in the tower. But three times this year I’ve seen
that light again! Come a stormy night it’ll flare again! I know it in my bones,
little master, I know it in my bones!’
Chapter
Six
A
QUEER TALE
The
four children shivered suddenly in the hot sun, as they listened to the
shepherd’s strange words. Were they true? Did the wreckers’ light still flash
in the old tower on wild and stormy nights? But why should it? Surely no
wreckers any longer did their dreadful work on this lonely rocky coast?
Dick
voiced the thoughts of the others. ‘But surely there are no wrecks on this
coast now? Isn’t there a good lighthouse farther up, to warn ships to keep
right out to sea?’
Grandad
nodded his grey head. ‘Yes. There’s a lighthouse, and there’s not been a wreck
along this coast for more years than I can remember. But I tell you that light
flares up just as it used to do. I seen it with my own eyes, and there’s nought
wrong with them yet!’
‘I
seen it too,’ put in Yan, suddenly.
Grandad
looked at Yan, annoyed. ‘You hold your noise, you,’ he commanded. ‘You’ve never
seen no light. You sleeps like a babe at nights.’
‘I
seen it,’ said Yan, obstinately, and moved out of Grandad’s way quickly as the
old man raised his hand to cuff the small boy.
Dick
changed the subject. ‘Grandad, do you know anything about the Wreckers’ Way?’
he asked. ‘Is it a secret way to get down to the coves from inland? Was it used
by the wreckers?’
Grandad
frowned. ‘That be a secret,’ he said, shortly. ‘My Dad, he showed it to me, and
I swore as I never would tell. Us all had to swear and promise that.’
‘But
Yan here said that you taught the way to him,’ said Dick, puzzled.
Yan
promptly removed himself from the company and disappeared round a clump of
bushes. His old Great-Grandad glared round at the disappearing boy.
‘Yan!
That boy! He doesn’t know anything about the Wreckers’ Way. It’s lost and
forgotten by every man living. I’m the last one left as knows of it. Yan! He’s
dreaming! Maybe he’s heard tell of an old Wreckers’ Way, but that’s all.’
‘Oh!’
said Dick, disappointed. He had hoped that Grandad would tell them the old way,
and then they could go and explore it. Perhaps they could go and search for it,
anyhow! It would be fun to do that.
Julian
came back to the question of the light flashing from the old tower by the
coast. He was puzzled. ‘Who could possibly flash that light?’ he said to
Gran-dad. ‘You say the place is a ruin. Are you sure it wasn’t lightning you
saw? You said it came on a wild and stormy night.’
‘It
weren’t lightning,’ said the old man shortly. ‘I first saw that light near
ninety years ago, and I tell you I saw it again three times this year, same
place, same light, same weather! And if you telled me it weren’t flashed by
mortal hands, I’d believe you.’
There
was a silence after this extraordinary statement. Anne looked over towards the
far-off tower that showed just between the two distant hills. How queer that
this spot where they were standing was the only place from which the tower
could be seen from inland. The wreckers had been clever to choose a spot like
that to flash a light from. No one but old Grandad up on the hills could
possibly have seen the light and guessed what was going on, no one but the
callous wreckers themselves.
Grandad
delved deep into more memories stored in his mind. He poured them out, tales of
the old days, queer, unbelievable stories. One was about an old woman who was
said to be a witch. The things she did!
The
four stared at the old shepherd, marvelling to think they were, in a way,
linked with the witches and brownies, the wreckers and the killers of long-ago
days, through this old, old man.
Yan
appeared again as soon as Julian opened the tea-basket. They had now gone back
to the hut, and sat outside in the sunshine, surrounded by nibbling sheep. One
or two of the half-grown lambs came up, looking hot in their unshorn woolly
coats. They nosed round the old shepherd, and he rubbed their woolly noses.
‘These
be lambs I fed from a bottle,’ he explained. ‘They always remember.  Cake’s wasted on you.’
Yan
wolfed quite half the tea. He gave Anne a quick grin of pure pleasure, showing
both his dimples at once. She smiled back. She liked this funny little boy now,
and felt sorry for him. She was sure that his old Grandad didn’t give him
enough to eat!
The
church bells began to ring, and the sun was now sliding down the sky. ‘We must
go,’ said Julian, reluctantly. ‘It’s quite a long walk back. Thanks for a most
interesting afternoon, Grandad. I expect you’ll be glad to be rid of us now,
and smoke your pipe in peace with your sheep around you.’
‘Ay,
I will,’ said Grandad, truthfully. ‘I do be one for my own company, and I likes
to think my own thoughts. Long thoughts they be, too, going back nigh on a
hundred years. If I wants to talk, I talks to my sheep. It’s rare and wunnerful
how they listen.’
The
children laughed, but Grandad was quite solemn, and meant every word he said.
They packed up the basket, and said good-bye to the old man.
‘Well,
what do you think he meant when he talked about the light still flashing in the
old tower?’ said Dick, as they went over the hills back to the farm. ‘What an
extraordinary thing to say. Was it true, do you suppose?’
‘There’s
only one way to find out!’ said George, her eyes dancing. ‘Wait for a wild and
stormy night and go and see!’
‘But
what about our agreement?’ said Julian, solemnly. ‘If anything exciting seems
about to happen we turn our backs on it. That’s what we decided. Don’t you
remember?’
‘Pooh!’
said George.
‘We
ought to keep the agreement,’ said Anne, doubtfully. She knew quite well that
the others didn’t think so!
‘Look!
Who are all these people?’ said Dick, suddenly. They were just climbing over a
stile to cross a lane to another field.
They
sat on the stile and stared. Some carts were going by, open wagons, their
canvas tops folded down. They were the most old-fashioned carts the children
had ever seen, not in the least like gipsy caravans.
Ten
or eleven people were with the wagons, dressed in the clothes of other days!
Some rode in the wagons and some walked. Some were middle-aged, some were
young, but they all looked cheerful and gay.
The
children stared. After Grandad’s tales of long ago these old-time folk seemed
just right! For a few moments Anne felt herself back in Grandad’s time, when he
was a boy. He must have seen people dressed like these!
‘Who
are they?’ she said, wonderingly. And then the children saw red lettering
painted on the biggest cart:
THE
BARNIES
‘Oh!
It’s the Barnies! Don’t you remember Mrs Penruthlan telling us about them?’
said Anne. ‘The strolling players, who play to the country-folk around, in the
barns. What fun!’
The
Barnies waved to the watching children. One man, dressed in velvet and lace,
with a sword at his side, and a wig of curly hair, threw a leaflet or two to
them. They read them with interest.
THE
BARNIES ARE COMING!
They
will sing, they will dance, they will fiddle.
They
will perform plays of all kinds.
Edith
Wells, the nightingale singer.
Bonnie
Carter, the old-time dancer.
Janie
Coster and her fiddle.
John
Walters, finest tenor in the world.
Georgie
Roth - he’ll make you laugh!
And
Others.
We
also present Clopper, the Funniest Horse in the World!
THE
BARNIES ARE COMING!
‘This’ll
be fun!’ said George, pleased. She called out to the passing wagons: ‘Will you
be playing at Tremannon Farm?’
‘Oh,
yes!’ called a man with bright, merry eyes. ‘We always play there. You staying
there?’
‘Yes,’
said George. ‘We’ll look out for you all. Where are you going now?’
‘To
Poltelly Farm for the night,’ called the man. ‘We’ll be at Tremannon soon.’
The
wagons passed, and the gay, queerly-dressed players went out of sight. ‘Good,’
said Dick. ‘Their show may not be first-rate, but it’s sure to be funny. They
looked a merry lot.’
‘All
but the man driving the front cart. Did you see him?’ said Anne. ‘He looked
pretty grim, I thought.’
Nobody
else had noticed him. ‘He was probably the owner of the Barnies,’ said Dick.
‘And has got all the organization on his shoulders. Well, come on. Where’s
Timmy?’
They
looked round for him, and George frowned. Yan had followed them as usual, and
Timmy was playing with him. Bother Yan! Was he going to trail them all day and
every day?
They
went back to the peaceful farm-house. Hens were still clucking around and ducks
were quacking. A horse stamped somewhere near by, and the grunting of pigs came
on the air. It all looked quite perfect.
Footsteps
came through the farm-yard, and Mr Penruthlan came by. He grunted at them and
went into a barn.
Anne
spoke in almost a whisper. ‘I can imagine him living in the older days and
being a wrecker. I can really!’
‘Yes!
I know what you mean,’ said Dick. ‘He’s so fierce-looking and determined.
What’s the word I want? Ruthless! I’m sure he would have made a good wrecker!’
‘Do
you suppose there are any wreckers now, and that light really is flashed to
make ships go on the rocks?’ said George.
‘Well,
I shouldn’t have thought there were any wreckers in this country, anyway,’ said
Dick. ‘I can’t imagine that such a thing would be tolerated for an instant. But
if that light is flashed, what is it flashed for?’
‘Old
Grandad said there hadn’t been any wrecks on this coast for ages,’ said Julian.
‘I think really that the old man is wandering a bit in his mind about that
light!’
‘But
Yan said he had seen it, too,’ said Anne.
‘I’m
not sure that Yan’s as truthful as he might be!’ said Julian.
‘Why
did Grandad say that the light isn’t fiashed by mortal hands now?’ asked
George. ‘It must be! I can’t imagine any other hands working it! He surely
doesn’t think that his father is still doing it?’
There
was a pause. ‘We could easily find out if we popped over to that tower and had
a look at it,’ said Dick.
There
was another pause. ‘I thought we said we wouldn’t go poking about in anything
mysterious,’ said Anne.
‘This
isn’t really mysterious,’ argued Dick. ‘It’s just a story an old man remembers,
and I really can’t believe that that light still flashes on a wild stormy
night. Grandad must have seen lightning or something. Why don’t we settle the
matter for good and all and go and explore the old house with the tower?’
‘I
should like to,’ said George firmly. ‘I never was keen on this “Keep away from
anything unusual” idea we suddenly had. We’ve got Timmy with us - we can’t
possibly come to any harm!’
‘All
right,’ said Anne, with a sigh. ‘I give up. We’ll go if you want to.’
‘Good
old Anne,’ said Dick, giving her a friendly slap on the back. ‘But you needn’t
come, you know. Why don’t you stay behind and hear our story when we come
back?’
'Certainly
not,’ said Anne, quite cross. ‘I may not want to go as much as you do, but I’m
not going to be left out of anything, so don’t think it!’
‘All
right. It’s settled then,’ said Julian. ‘We take our opportunity and go as soon
as we can, Tomorrow, perhaps.’
Mrs
Penruthlan came to the door and called them. ‘Your high tea is ready. You must
be hungry. Come along indoors.’
The
sun suddenly went in. Julian looked up at the sky in surprise. ‘My word, look
at those black clouds!’ he said. ‘There’s a storm coming! Well, I thought there
might be, it’s been so terribly hot all day!’
‘A
storm!’ said George. ‘That light flashes on wild and stormy nights! Oh, Julian,
do you think it will flash tonight? Can’t we - can’t we go and see?’
Chapter
Seven
OUT
IN THE NIGHT
Before
the children had finished their high tea, the big kitchen-sitting-room was
quite dark. Thunder clouds had moved up from the west, gathering together
silently, frowning and sinister. Then, from far off, came the first rumble of
thunder.
The
little Scottie came and cowered against Mrs Penruthlan’s skirts. He hated
storms. The farmer’s wife comforted him, and her big husband gave a little
unexpected snort of laughter. He said something that sounded like ‘oose’.
‘He’s
not as timid as a mouse,’ said his wife, who was really marvellous at
interpreting her husband’s peculiar noises. ‘He just doesn’t like the thunder.
He never did. He can sleep with us in our room tonight.’
There
were a few more sounds from Mr Penruthlan to which his wife listened anxiously.
‘Very well, if you have to get up and see to Jenny the horse in the night, I’ll
see Benny doesn’t bark the house down,’ she said. She turned to the children.
‘Don’t worry if you hear him barking,’ she said. ‘It will only be Mr Penruthlan
stirring.’
The
thunder crashed and rumbled again, this time a little nearer, and then
lightning flashed. Then down came the rain. How it poured! It rattled and
clattered on the roof in enormous drops, and then settled down into a steady
downpour.
The
four children got out their cards and played games by the light of the oil
lamp. There was no electricity at Tremannon. Timmy sat with his head on
George’s knee. He didn’t mind the thunder but he didn’t particularly like it.
‘Well,
I think we’d better go to bed,’ said Julian at last. He knew that the
Penruthlans liked to go to bed early because they got up so early, and as they
did not go upstairs until after the children did, Julian saw to it that they,
too, went early.
They
said good night and went up to their bare little rooms. The windows were still
open and the small curtains drawn back, so that the hills, lit now and again by
lightning, showed up clearly. The children went and stood there, watching. They
all loved a storm, especially Dick. There was something powerful and most
majestic about this kind of storm, sweeping over hills and sea, rumbling all
round, and tearing the sky in half with flashes of lightning.
‘Julian,
is it possible to go up to that place the shepherd showed us and see if the
light flashes tonight?’ said George. ‘You only laughed when I asked you
before.’
‘Well,
I laugh again!’ said Julian. ‘Of course not! We’d be drenched, and I don’t
fancy being out in this lightning on those exposed hills, either.’
‘All
right,’ said George. ‘Anyway, I don’t feel quite such an urge to go now that
it’s so pitch dark.’
‘Just
as well,’ said Julian. ‘Come on, Dick, let’s go to bed.’
The
storm went on for some time, rumbling all round the hills again, as if it were
going round in a circle. The girls fell asleep, but the boys tossed about,
feeling hot and sticky.
‘Dick,’
said Julian, suddenly, ‘let’s get up and go out. It’s stopped raining. Let’s go
and see if that light is flashing tonight. It should be just the night for it,
according to old Grandad.’
‘Right,’
said Dick, and sat up, feeling for his clothes. ‘I simply can’t go to sleep,
even though I felt really sleepy when I undressed.’
They
pulled on as few clothes as possible, for the night was still thundery and hot.
Julian took his torch and Dick hunted for his.
‘Got
it,’ he said at last. ‘Are you ready? Come on, then. Let’s tiptoe past the
Penruthlans’ door, or we may wake that dog Scottie! He’s sleeping there
tonight, don’t forget.’
They
tiptoed along the passage, past the Penruthlans’ door and down the stairs. One
stair creaked rather alarmingly, and they stopped in dismay, wondering if Ben
the Scottie would break out into a storm of barking.
But
he didn’t. Good! Down they went again, switching on their torches to see the
way. They came to the bottom of the stairs. ‘Shall we go out by the front door
or back door, Ju?’ whispered Dick.
‘Back,’
said Julian. ‘The front door’s so heavy to open. Come on.’
So
they went down the passage to the back door that led out from the kitchen. It
was locked and bolted, but the two boys opened it without too much noise.
They
stepped out into the night. The rain had now stopped, but the sky was still
dark and overclouded. Tne thunder rumbled away in the distance. A wind had got
up and blew coolly against the boys’ faces.
‘Nice
cocl breeze,’ whispered Dick. ‘Now - do we go through the farm-yard? Is that
the shortest way to the stile we have to climb over into that first field?’
‘Yes,
i think so,’ said Julian. They made their way across the silent farm-yard,
where, in the daytime, such a lot of noise went on, clucking, quacking,
grunting, clip-clopping, and shouting!
Now
it was dark and deserted. They passed the barns and the stables. A little
‘hrrrrrrumphing’ came from one of the stables. ‘That’s Jenny, the horse that’s
not well,’ said Julian, stopping. ‘Let’s just have a look at her and see if
she’s all right. She was lying down feeling very sorry for herself when I saw
her last.’
They
flashed their torch over the top half of the stable door, which was pulled back
to let in air. They looked in with interest.
Jenny
was no longer lying down.  Goodness,
she must be quite all right again! She whinnied to the two boys.
They
left her and went on. They came to the stile and climbed over. The rain began
drizzling again, and if the boys had not had their torches with them they would
not have been able to see a step in front of them, it was so dark.
‘I
say, Ju - did you hear that?’ said Dick, stopping suddenly.
‘No.
What?’ said Julian, listening.

‘One
of the sheep,’ suggested Julian. ‘I heard one old sheep coughing just like
Uncle Quentin does sometimes, sort of hollow and mournful.’
‘No.
It wasn’t a sheep,’ said Dick. ‘Anyway, there aren’t any in this field.’
‘You
imagined it,’ said Julian.
They
went on cautiously over the field. The thunder began again, a little nearer.
Then came a flash, and again the thunder.
 He was climbing over that stile, the one we’re making for. Who do you
suppose it is on a night like this?’
‘He’s
apparently going the same way that we are,’ said Julian. ‘Well, I suppose if we
saw him he’s quite likely to have seen us!’
‘Not
unless he was looking backwards,’ said Dick. ‘Come on, let’s see where he’s
going.’
They
went on cautiously towards the stile. They came to it and climbed over. And
then a hand suddenly clutched hold of Dick’s shoulder!
He
jumped almost out of his skin! The hand gripped him so hard and so fiercely
that Dick shouted in pain and tried to wriggle away from the powerful grip.
Julian
felt a hand lunge at him, too, but dodged and pressed himself into the hedge.
He switched off his torch at once and stood quite still, his heart thumping
quickly.
‘Let
me go!’ shouted Dick, wriggling like an eel. His shirt was almost tom off his
back in his struggles. He kicked out at the man’s ankles and for one moment his
captor loosened his grasp. That was enough for Dick. He ripped himself away and
left his shirt in the man’s hand!
He
ran up the lane into which the stile had led and flung himself under a bush in
the darkness, panting. He heard his captor coming along, muttering, and Dick
pressed himself farther into the bush. A torchlight swept the ground near him,
but missed him.
 He went quietly down
tht lane. ‘Julian!’ he whispered, and jumped as a voice answered almost in his
ear, just above his head!
‘I’m
here. Are you all right?’
Dick
looked up into the darkness of a tree, but could see nothing. ‘I’ve dropped my
torch somewhere,’ he said. ‘Where are you, Ju? Up in the tree?’
 ‘Here I am, on the first branch,’ said
Julian. ‘I hid in the hedge first and then climbed up here. I daren’t put on my
torch in case that fellow’s anywhere around and sees it.’
‘He’s
gone up the lane,’ said Dick.
Half my shirt’s gone! Who was he? Did you see?’
‘No,
I didn’t,’ said Julian, clambering down. ‘Let’s find your torch before we go
home. It’s too good to lose. It must be by that stile.’
They
went to look. Julian still didn’t like to put on his torch, so that it was more
a question of feeling for Dick’s torch, not looking! Dick suddenly trod on it
and picked it up thankfully.
‘Listen,
there’s that fellow coming back again, I’m sure!’ said Dick. ‘I heard the same
dry little cough! What shall we do?’
‘Well,
I don’t now feel like going up to the shepherd’s hill to see if that light is
flashing from the tower,’ said Julian. ‘I vote we hide and follow this chap to
see where he goes. I don’t think anyone who is wandering out tonight can be up
to any good.’
‘Yes.
Good idea,’ said Dick. ‘Squash into the hedge again. Blow, there are nettles
here! Just my luck.’
The
footsteps came nearer, and the cough came again. ‘I seem to know that cough,’
whispered Dick.
‘Sh!’
said Julian.
The
man came up to the stile, and they heard him climbing over it. After a short
time both boys followed cautiously. They couldn’t hear the man’s footsteps
across the grass, but the sky had cleared a little and they could just make out
a moving shadow ahead of them.
 Now and again they heard the cough.
‘He’s
making for the farm,’ whispered Julian. He could just see the outline of the
big barns against the sky. ‘Do you think he’s one of the labourers? They live
in cottages round about.’
The
man came to the farm-yard and walked through it, trying to make as little sound
as possible. The boys followed. He went round the barns and into the little
garden that Mrs Penruthlan tended herself. Still the boys followed.
Round
to the front door went the man, and the boys held their breath. Was he going to
burgle the farmhouse? They tiptoed nearer. There came the sound of a soft
click, and then of bolts being shot home! After that there was silence.
‘He’s
gone in,’ said Julian in amazement.
‘Don’t
you know who it was? Can’t you guess now?’ said Dick. ‘We both ought to have
known when we heard that cough! It was Mr Penruthlan! No wonder he almost
dislocated my shoulder with his strong hand!’
‘Mr
Penruthlan - gosh, yes, you’re right,’ said Julian, astonished, almost
forgetting to speak in a whisper. ‘We didn’t notice that the front door was
undone because we went out the back way. So it was he we followed. How silly!
But what was he doing out on the hills? He didn’t go to see the horse, she
wasn’t ill.’
‘Perhaps
he likes a walk at night,’ suggested Dick. ‘Come on, let’s go in ourselves. I
feel a bit chilly with practically no shirt on!’
They
crept round to the back door. It was still open, thank goodness! They went
inside, bolted and locked it, and tiptoed upstairs. They heaved sighs of relief
when they were safely in their room again.
‘Switch
on your torch, Julian, and see if my shoulder is bruised,’ said Dick. ‘It feels
jolly painful.’
Julian
flashed his torch on Dick’s shoulder. He gave a low whistle. ‘My word, you’ve
got a wonderful bruise all down your right shoulder. He must have given you an
awful wrench.’
‘He
did,’ said poor Dick. ‘Well, I can’t say we had a very successful time,
followed our host through the night, got caught by him, and followed him all
the way back here. Not very clever!’
‘Well,
never mind, I bet no light flashed in that tower,’ said Julian, getting into
bed. ‘We haven’t lost much by not going all the way to see!’
Chapter
Eight
HERE
COME THE BARNIES!
The
two boys looked curiously at Mr Penruthlan the next morning. It seemed strange
to think of their little adventure the night before with him, and he didn’t even
know it was they he had tried to catch!
Mrs
Penruthlan was beaming at the head of the breakfast table as usual. ‘Did you
sleep well, all of you?’ she asked. ‘The storm soon died down, didn’t it?’
Mr
Penruthlan got up said ‘Ah, ock, oooh!’ or something that sounded like that,
and went out.
‘What
did he say?’ asked Anne curiously. She could not think how anyone could
possibly understand Mr Penruthlan’s extraordinary speech. Julian had said that
he thought he must talk in shorthand!
‘He
said he might not be back for dinner,’ said Mrs Penruthlan. ‘I hope he’ll get
some somewhere. He had his breakfast at half past six, and that’s very early.
I’m glad he came in and had a cup of your breakfast tea now. The poor man had a
very bad night, I’m sorry to say.’
The
boys pricked up their ears. ‘What happened?’ asked Julian at once.
‘Oh,
he had to get up and go and spend two hours with poor Jenny,’ said Mrs
Penruthlan. ‘I woke when he left, but luckily Benny didn’t bark, and it wasn’t
till two hours later he came back, he’d been sitting with the horse all that
time, poor man.’
Julian
and Dick did not feel at all sympathetic. They knew quite well where Mr
Penruthlan had been, not with the horse, that was certain! Anyway, Jenny hadn’t
been ill when they had looked at her in the night. What a lot of untruths!
They
were puzzled. Why should Mr Penruthlan deceive his wife and tell her what
wasn’t true? What had he been doing that he didn’t even want her to know?
They
told the girls everything immediately after breakfast, when they went to pick
currants, raspberries and plums for a fruit salad. Anne and George listened in
surprise.
‘You
never told us you were going,’ said George, reproachfully. ‘I’d like to have
come with you.’
‘I
always thought Mr Penruthlan looked sort of strange and - and sinister,’ said
Anne. ‘I’m sure he’s up to no good. What a pity. His wife is so very nice.’
They
went on picking the endless red-currants. Anne suddenly got the feeling that
somebody was hiding somewhere near. She looked round uncomfortably. Yes, there
was someone in the tall raspberry canes, she was sure! She watched.
It
was Yan, of course. She might have guessed! He flashed his smile at her and
came towards her. He liked Anne best of all! He held out his hand.
‘No,
I’ve no sweets,’ said Anne. ‘How did you get on last night in the storm, Yan?
Were you frightened?’
Yan
shook his head. Then he came nearer and spoke softly.
‘I
seen the light last night!’
Anne
stared at him, astonished. What light?
‘You
don’t mean - the light that flashes in that old hidden tower?’ she said.
He
nodded. Anne went quickly to Julian and Dick, who were picking white currants
and eating just about as many as they put into the basket!
‘Julian!
Dick! Yan says he saw that light flashing last night, the one in the tower!’
‘Gosh!’
said the boys together. They turned to Yan, who had followed Anne. ‘You saw
that light?’ said Julian.
Yan
nodded. ‘Big light. Very big,’ he said. ‘Like - like a fire.’
‘Shining
from the tower?’ said Dick, and Yan nodded again.
‘Did
your Grandad see it?’ asked Dick.
Yan
nodded. ‘He seen it, too.’
‘Are
you telling the truth?’ demanded Julian, wondering how far he could believe
Yan.
Yan
nodded again.
‘What
time was this?’ asked Dick. But that Yan couldn’t tell him. He had no watch,
and if he had had, he wouldn’t have been able to use it. He couldn’t tell the
time.
‘Blow!’
said Julian to Dick. ‘We missed it. If Yan’s telling the truth we would have
seen that light last night.’
‘Yes.
Well, we’ll go tonight and watch for it,’ said Dick, determined. ‘It’s a wild
enough day, all wind and scurrying clouds. If that light is used at night in
weather like this, we’ll be able to see it again. But I’m blessed if I can
understand why the wreckers’ tower should be used nowadays. No ship would take
any notice of an odd light like that when they’ve got the lighthouse signalling
hard all the time!’
‘I
go, too,’ nodded Yan, who had overheard this.
‘No,
you won’t,’ said Julian. ‘You can stay with Grandad. He’ll wonder where you are
if you’re not there.’
It
began to rain. ‘Blow!’ said George. ‘I do hope the weather hasn’t broken up.
It’s been so gorgeous. It’s quite cold today with this tearing wind. Come on,
let’s go in, Anne. We’ve got enough now to feed an army, I should think!’
They
all went in, just as the rain came down properly. Mrs Penruthlan greeted them
in excitement.
‘The
Barnies want our barn for tomorrow night!’ she said. ‘They’re giving their
first show in our barn, and after that they go to another place. Would you like
to help clear out the barn and get ready?’
‘Rather!’
said Julian. ‘We’ll go now. There’s a lot of stuff to clear out. Where shall we
put it? In the other barn?’
The
Barnies arrived in about twenty minutes and went straight to the barn, which
they had been lent several times before for their shows. They were pleased to
see the children and were glad of their help.
They
were no longer dressed in fancy clothes, as they had been when the children had
seen them on the Sunday evening. They were practically all dressed in slacks,
the women, too, ready for the hard work of clearing the barn and setting up a
simple stage and background.

‘What’s
that for?’ he said. ‘Oh, is that Clopper’s head? The horse that can sit down
and cross its legs?’
‘That’s
right,’ said the little fellow. ‘I’m in charge of it. Never let it out of my
sight! Guv’nor’s orders!’
‘Who’s
the Guv’nor?’ asked Julian. ‘The fellow over there?’ He nodded to a grim-faced
man who was supervising the moving of some bales of straw.
‘That’s
him,’ said the little man with a grin. ‘His lordship himself! What do you think
of my horse, chum!’
Julian
looked at the horse’s head. It was beautifully made and had a most comical look
in its eye. Its mouth could open and shut, and so could its big eyes.
‘I’m
only the hind legs,’ said the little man regretfully. ‘But l work his tail,
too. Mr Binks over there is his front legs, and works his head, the horse’s
head, I mean. You should see old Clopper when he performs!  He can do everything short of fly!’
‘Where
are his back and front legs - and - er - his body part'?’ asked Dick, coming up
and looking with great interest at the horse’s head.
‘Over
there,’ said the little man. ‘By the way, my name’s Sid. What’s yours, and how
is it you’re here?’
Julian
introduced himself and Dick, and explained that they were helping because they
were staying at the farm. He caught hold of a bale of straw, thinking it was
about time he did some work.
‘Like
to give me a hand?’ he asked.
Sid
shook his head.
‘Sorry.
Orders are I’m not to put this horse’s head down anywhere. Where I go, it goes!
I can tell you, me and Clopper are quite attached to one another!’
‘Why?
Is it so valuable?’ asked Dick.
‘It’s
not so much that,’ said Sid. ‘It’s just that Clopper’s so popular, you know.
And he’s important. You see, whenever we think the show’s flopping a bit, we
bring Clopper on, and then we get the laughs and the claps, and the audience is
in a good temper. Oh, Clopper’s saved the show times without number. He’s a
jolly good horse is Clopper.’
Mr
Binks came up. He was bigger than Sid and much stronger. He grinned at the two
boys. ‘Admiring old Clopper?’ he said.  My word, what a state the Guv’nor was in!  ‘Me and Binks and Clopper - no
show without us!’
‘Don’t
you put that horse down even for a moment,’ warned Mr Binks. ‘The Guv’nor’s got
his eye on you, Sid. Look, he’s calling you.’
Sid
went over to the Guv’nor, looking rather alarmed. He carried the horse’s head
safely under his arm.
The
grim-faced man said a few sharp words and Sid nodded. Julian went up to him
when he came back. ‘Let me feel how heavy the horse’s head is,’ he said. ‘I’ve
often wondered, when I’ve seen something like this on the stage.’
Sid
immediately put the horse under his other arm, and glared at Julian, looking
round quickly to see if the Guv’nor had heard.
‘That’s
a fool thing to ask me,’ he said. ‘After I’ve told you I’m not allowed to put
the horse down! And didn’t the Guv’nor just this minute say to me “Keep away
from those kids, you know what tricks they’re up to. They’ll have that horse
away from you if you’re not careful.” See? Do you want me to lose my job?’
Julian
laughed. ‘Don’t be silly. You wouldn’t lose your job for that! When are you and
Mr Binks going to do a bit of practice? We want to see you!’
‘Oh
well, we could manage that all right,’ said Sid, calming down. ‘Here, Binks.
Bit of practice wanted. Get the legs.’
Binks
and Sid went to a cleared space in the big barn and proceeded to clothe
themselves in the horse’s canvas skin and legs. Sid showed the boys how he
worked the tail with one of his hands when he wanted to.
Binks
put on the head and the front legs. His head only went into the neck of the
horse, no farther. He was able to use his hands for pulling strings to open the
horse’s mouth and work its rolling eyes.
Sid
got his legs in the horse’s back legs, bent over and put his head and arms over
towards Binks, so making the horse’s back. Somebody came up and zipped up the
two halves of the horse’s ‘skin’.
‘Oh!
What a jolly good horse!’ said Dick, delighted. It looked a lively, comical,
extremely supple beast, and the two men inside at once proceeded to make it do
ridiculous things. It marched - left-right, left-right, left-right. It did a
little tap-dance with its front feet, which then remained perfectly still, and
then the back feet did the same little tap-dance.
The
back feet got themselves entangled and fell over, and the horse’s head looked
round at itself in astonishment.
All
four children were now watching, and Yan was peeping in at the door. They
roared with laughter at the ridiculous horse.
It
took its tail in its mouth and marched round and round itself. It stood up on
its hind legs only. It jumped like a kangaroo, and made peculiar noises. The
whole company stood and watched and even the grim-faced Guv’nor had to smile.
Then
it sat down on its hind-legs and crossed its front ones in the air, looking
round comically. It then gave an enormous yawn that showed dozens of large
teeth.
‘Oh,
don’t do any more!’ cried Anne, who was weak with laughing. ‘Don’t! Oh, I can
quite well see how important you are, Clopper! You’ll be the best part of the show!’
 Sid and Binks took off their horse garments, and Sid thereupon went
about as before, the horse’s head, grinning comically, tucked safely under his
arm.
Mrs
Penruthlan called the children in to dinner. Yan ran after Julian, and caught
hold of his arm.
‘I
seen that light,’ he said, urgently. ‘You come, see it tonight. Don’t forget. I
seen that light!’
Julian
had forgotten it in the excitement of the morning. He grinned down at the small
boy.
‘All
right, all right. I won’t forget. We’re coming along tonight, but you’re not
coming, Yan, so get that out of your head! Look, here’s a sweet for you. Now,
scoot!’
Chapter
Nine
THE
LIGHT IN THE TOWER
By
the end of the day the big barn was quite transformed! It had been cleared of
all straw, sacks of corn, bags of fertilizer and odd machines that had been
stored in it. It looked enormous now, and the Barnies were very pleased with
it.
‘We’ve
been here plenty of times,’ they told the children. ‘It’s the best barn in the
district. We don’t get the best audience, though, because it’s rather a lonely
spot here, and there are only two villages near enough to send people to see
us. Still, we have a good time, and Mrs Penruthlan gives us a marvellous supper
afterwards!’
‘I
bet she does!’ said Dick, grinning. ‘I bet that’s why you come to this lonely
spot, too, to taste Mrs Penruthlan’s cooking. I don’t blame you. I’d come a
good few miles myself!’
A
stage had been set up, made of long boards, supported on barrels. A back-cloth
had been unrolled and hung over the wooden wall of the barn at the back of the
stage. It showed a country scene, and had been painted by the company
themselves, bit by bit.
‘That’s
my bit,’ said Sid, showing Dick a horse standing in one of the fields painted
on the back-cloth. ‘I had to put old Clopper in! See him?’
The
Barnies had plenty of home-made scenery, which they were used to changing
several times during their performance. This was all home-made too, and they
were very proud of it, especially some that represented a castle with a tower.
The
tower reminded the boys of the one Yan had said he had seen flashing a light
the night before. They looked at one another secretly, and Julian nodded
slightly. They would certainly watch to see that light themselves. Then they
would know for certain whether Grandad and Yan were telling the truth.
Julian
wondered if they would have to look out for Mr Penruthlan again that night.
Jenny the horse was quite better now, if she had ever been ill!, and was out in
the fields again. So Mr Penruthlan had no excuse for creeping about the
countryside at night again!
Neither
of the boys could imagine what had taken him out the night before, on such a
wild night too! Was he meeting somebody? He hadn’t had time to go up to see the
shepherd about anything, and there wouldn’t have been much point in that
anyway. He had seen Grandad in the morning already.
Mrs
Penruthlan came to see the barn now that it was almost ready for the show the
next night. She looked red and excited. This was a grand time for her, the
Barnies in her barn, the villagers all coming up the next night, a grand supper
to be held afterwards. What an excitement!
She
was very busy in her kitchen, cooking, cooking, cooking! Her enormous larder
was already full of the most appetizing looking pies, tarts, hams, brawns and
cheeses. The children took turns at looking into it and sniffing in delight.
Mrs Penruthlan laughed at them and shooed them out.
‘You’ll
have to help me tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Shelling peas, scraping potatoes,
stringing beans, picking currants and raspberries, and you’ll find hundreds of
wild strawberries in the copse, too, which can go to add a flavour to the fruit
salad.’
‘We
shall love to help,’ said Anne. ‘All this is grand fun! But surely you aren’t
going to do all the supper single-handed, Mrs Penruthlan?’
‘Oh,
one or two of the villagers will stay behind to help me serve it,’ said the
plump little farmer’s wife, who looked as happy as could be in the midst of so
much hard work. ‘Anyway, I’ll be up at five o’clock tomorrow morning. I’ll have
plenty of time!’
‘You’d
better go to bed early tonight then!’ said George.
‘We
all will,’ said Mrs Penruthlan. ‘We’ll be up early and abed late tomorrow, and
we’ll need some sleep tonight. It’s no trouble to get Mr Penruthlan to bed early.
He’s always ready to go!’
The
children felt sure he would be ready to go early that night because he had
spent so much time out in the storm the night before! Julian and Dick were
tired too, but they were quite determined to go up to the shepherd’s hill and
find the place where they could watch and see if that light really did flash
out!
They
had a high tea as usual, at which Mr Penruthlan was present. He ate solidly and
solemnly, not saying a word except something that sounded like ‘Ooahah, ooh.’
‘Well,
I’m glad you like the pie, Mr Penruthlan,’ said his wife. ‘Though I says it as
shouldn’t, it’s a good one.’
It
really was wonderful the way she understood her husband’s speech. It was also
very queer to hear her speak to her husband as if he was someone to whom she
had to be polite, and call Mister! Anne wondered if she called him Mr
Penruthlan when they were alone together. She looked at him earnestly. What a
dark giant he was - and how he ate!
He
looked up and saw Anne watching him. He nodded at her and said ‘Ah! Oooh, ock,
ukker.’ It might have been a foreign language for all Anne could understand!
She looked startled and didn’t know what to say.
‘Now,
Mr Penruthlan, don’t you tease the child!’ said his wife. ‘She doesn’t know
what to answer. Do you, Anne?’
‘Well
- I - er - I didn’t really catch what he said,’ said Anne, going scarlet.
‘There
now, Mr Penruthlan - see how badly you talk without your teeth in!’ said the
farmer’s wife scoldingly.  I understand you all right, but others don’t. It
must sound just a mumble to them!’
Mr
Penruthlan frowned and muttered something. The children all stared at him,
dumbfounded to hear that he had no teeth. Goodness gracious - HOW did he manage
to eat all he did, then? He seemed to chew and munch and crunch, and yet he had
no teeth!
‘So
that’s why he speaks so queerly,’ thought Dick, amused. ‘But fancy eating as
much as he does, with no teeth in his head! Goodness, what would he eat if he
had got all his teeth.’
Mrs
Penruthlan changed the conversation because it was clear that her husband was
annoyed with her. She talked brightly about the Barnies.
‘That
horse Clapper! You wait till you see him prance on to the stage, and fall off
it. You’ll see Mr Penruthlan almost fall out of his seat he laughs so much.
He’s fair set on that horse. He’s seen it a dozen times, and it tickles him to
death.’
‘I
think it’s jolly funny myself,’ said Julian. ‘I’ve always thought I’d like to
put on an act like that at our end-of-term concert at school. Dick and I could
do it all right. I wish Sid and Mr Binks would let us try.’
The
meal was finished at last. Most of the dishes were empty, and Mrs Penruthlan looked
pleased. ‘There now - you’ve done really well,’ she said. ‘That’s what I do
like to see, people finishing up everything put before them.’
‘It’s
easy when it’s food you put before us,’ said George. ‘Isn’t it, Timmy? I bet
Timmy wishes he lived here always, Mrs Penruthlan! I’m sure he keeps telling
your dogs how lucky they are!’
After
the washing-up, in which everyone but Mr Penruthlan helped, they went to sit
down for a while, and read. But the farmer kept giving such enormous yawns that
he set everyone else yawning too, and Mrs Penruthlan began to laugh.
‘Come
on, to bed, all of you!’ she said. ‘I’ve never heard so many yawns in my life!
Poor Mr Penruthlan. He’s tired out with sitting up with Jenny the horse half
the night.’
The
children exchanged glances. They knew better!
Everyone
went up to bed, and the children laughed to hear Mr Penruthlan still yawning
loudly in his room. Julian looked out of his window. It was a dark, blustery
night, with sudden spurts of sharp rain. The wind howled and Julian almost
thought he could hear the great waves crashing on the rocks in the nearest
caves! How enormous they would be in this wind!
‘A
good night for wreckers, if there were any nowadays!’ he said to Dick. ‘Not
much chance for any ship that went too near those coves tonight! They’d be on
the rocks, and dashed to pieces in half an hour! The beach would be strewn with
thousands of pieces of wreckage the next day.’
‘We’d
better wait a bit before we go,’ said Dick. ‘It’s really very early. On a
bright sunny evening the hills would still be full of daylight, but this stormy
evening is very dark. Let’s light our candles and read.’
The
wind became even stronger, and grew almost to a gale. It made a howling noise
round the old farm-house, and sounded angry and in pain. Not a very nice night
to go out on the hills!
‘We’ll
go now, I think,’ said Julian, at last. ‘It’s quite dark, and getting late.
Come on.’
They
hadn’t undressed, so they went down the stairs at once, and out of the back
door as before, closing it silently behind them. They made their way through
the farm-yard, not daring to shine their torches till they were well away from
the house.
They
had had a quick look at the front door, when they had stood in the hall. It was
locked and bolted! Mr Penruthlan was not out tonight, that was certain.
They
walked steadily through the gale, gasping when it caught them full in the face.
They each had their warm jerseys on, for it was quite cold, and the wind blew
all the time.
Across
the fields. Over one stile after another. Across more fields. The boys stopped
once or twice to make sure they were right. They were relieved when they came
to the great flock of sheep, and knew they must be near the shepherd’s hut.
‘There’s
the hut,’ whispered Julian, at last. ‘You can just see its dark outline. We
must go quietly now.’
They
stole by the hut. Not a sound came from inside, and no candle-light showed
through the cracks. Old Grandad must be fast asleep! Julian pictured Yan curled
up with him on their bed of old sheepskins.
The
boys went quietly along. Now, they must make for the spot from which the old
tower could be seen, and it must be the exact spot, for the tower could be seen
from nowhere else.
They
couldn’t find it, or, if they had found it, and were standing on it, they were
unable to see the tower far off in the darkness.
‘If
it didn’t happen to be flashing a light, we wouldn’t know if we were looking in
the right direction or not!’ said Julian. ‘We’d never see it in the dark. Why
didn’t we think of that? Somehow I thought we’d see the tower whether it was
lighted up or not. We’re asses.’
They
wandered about a little, continually looking in the direction where they
thought the tower should be. But they saw nothing at all. What a waste of a
long walk!
Then
Julian suddenly gave an exclamation. ‘Who’s that? I saw you there! Who is it?’
Dick
jumped. What was this now? Then someone sidled up against them both, and a
voice spoke timidly.
‘It’s
me, Yan!’
‘Good
gracious! You turn up everywhere!’ said Julian. ‘I suppose you were watching
out for us.’
‘Iss.
Come with me,’ said Yan, and tugged at Julian’s arm. The two boys went with
him, a few yards to the right, then higher up the hill. Then Yan stopped.
The
boys saw the distant light at once. There was no doubt about it at all! It
flashed continually, rather like a small lighthouse light. Each time it flashed
they could see the faint outline of the tower.
‘It
seems to be some kind of signal,’ said Julian. ‘Flash - flash-flash-flash -
flash-flash - flash. My word, how weird. Who’s doing it, and why? Surely there
are no wreckers nowadays!’
‘Grandad
says it’s his old Dad,’ said Yan, in an awed voice. Julian laughed.
‘Don’t
be silly! All the same, it’s a bit of a mystery, isn’t it, Dick? Could any ship
out at sea be deceived and come near to the shore, and be wrecked? It’s a
wicked night, just the night for great waves to pound a ship to pieces if it
came near this coast.’
‘Yes.
Well, we shall hear tomorrow if there has been a wreck,’ said Dick soberly. ‘I
hope there won’t be. I can’t bear thinking of it, anyway. Surely, surely there
aren’t wreckers here now!’
‘If
there are, they will be creeping down the hidden Wreckers’ Way, wherever it
is,’ said Julian. ‘And watching for the ship to crash to pieces. Then they will
collect sacks upon sacks of booty and creep away back.’
Dick
felt a chill of horror. ‘Shut up, Ju!’ he said, sharply. ‘Don’t talk like that.
Now, what are we going to do about that light.’
‘I’ll
tell you,’ said Julian, firmly, ‘We’re going to find that tower and see what’s
going on. That’s what we’re going to do! And as soon as ever we can too, maybe
tomorrow!’
Chapter
Ten
GETTING
READY FOR THE SHOW
Julian
and Dick watched the light for a little longer, and then turned to go back to
the farm. The wind was so strong and so cold that even on that summer’s night
they found themselves shivering.
‘I’m
glad you found us, Yan,’ said Dick, putting an arm round the small, shivering
boy. ‘Thanks for your help. We’re going to explore that old tower. Would you
like to show us the way to it?’
Yan
shivered all the more, from fright as much as cold. ‘No. I’m frit,’ he said.
‘I’m frit of that tower now.’
‘What
does he mean, frit?’ said Dick. ‘Short for frightened, I suppose! All right,
Yan. You needn’t come. It is pretty peculiar, I must admit. Now, go back to
your hut.’
 The boys made their way home, not
very cautiously, for they felt sure they were the only people out that night.
But when they came to the farm-yard they saw something that made them stop
suddenly.
‘There’s
a light in the big barn!’ whispered Dick. ‘It’s gone, no, there it is again.
 Who is it?’
‘One
of the Barnies, perhaps,’ whispered back Julian. ‘Let’s go and see. We know the
Barnies are sleeping in the near-by sheds tonight.’
They
tiptoed to the barn and looked through a crack. They saw nothing at first. Then
a torch flashed, shedding its light on some of the properties of the Barnies,
stacked in a corner, scenery, dresses, coats, and other things.
‘Somebody’s
going through the pockets!’ said Julian, indignantly. ‘Look at that! A thief!’
‘Who
is it?’ said Dick. ‘One of the Barnies pick-pocketing?’
For
a moment or two the torch lighted up the back of the intruder’s hand in the
barn, and the boys stifled an exclamation. They knew that hand! It was covered
with black hairs almost as thick as fur!
‘Mr
Penruthlan!’ whispered Dick. ‘Yes, I see it’s him now. Look at his enormous
shadow. What’s he doing? He must be mad, walking about at night on the hills,
stealing into the barn, going through pockets. Look what he’s doing now!
Looking in the drawers of that chest the Barnies are going to use in one of
their scenes. Yes, he’s mad!’
Julian
felt most uncomfortable. He didn’t like spying on his host like this. What a
strange man he was! He told untruths, he crept about at night, he went through
people’s pockets. Yes, he must be mad! Did Mrs Penruthlan know? She couldn’t
know, or she would be unhappy, and she really seemed the most cheerful, gay
little person in the world!
‘Come
on,’ said Julian, in Dick’s ear. ‘He’s going through everything! Though what he
expects to find in the Barnies’ stage clothes and properties, I don’t know.
He’s got a kink! Come on, I really don’t want to spot him taking something,
stealing it. It would be so awkward if we had to say we saw him stealing.’
They
left the barn and went back to the farmhouse, creeping in once more at the back
door. They looked at the front door. It was shut, but no longer locked or
bolted.
The
boys went upstairs, puzzled. What a strange night! The howling wind, the
flashing light, the furtive man in the barn, they didn’t know what to make of
it at all!
‘Let’s
wake the girls and tell them,’ said Julian. ‘I feel as if I can’t wait till the
morning.’
George
was awake and so was Timmy. Timmy had heard them going out, and had lain awake
waiting for them to come back. He had stirred and had awakened George. She was
quite prepared to hear a whisper at the door!
‘Anne!
George! We’ve got some news!’ whispered Julian.  Soon Anne was awake, too, and the girls were
listening in amazement at the boys’ news.
They
were almost as surprised to hear about Mr Penruthlan in the barn as to hear
about the light actually flashing in the tower.
‘So
it was true what old Grandad said, then?’ whispered Anne. ‘He had seen the
light again. I do think it’s weird, all this. Julian, you don’t think we’ll
hear of a wreck tomorrow, do you? I couldn’t bear it!’
‘Nor
could I,’ said George, listening to the wind howling outside. ‘Fancy being
wrecked on a night like this, and being dashed on the rocks by those pounding
waves. I feel as if we ought to rush off to the caves here and now and see if
we can do any rescuing!’
‘We
wouldn’t be much use,’ said Dick. ‘I doubt if we could even get near the cove
on a night like this. The waves would run right up to the road that leads down
to it.’
They
talked and talked about everything. Then George yawned. ‘We’d better stop,’ she
said. ‘We’ll never wake up tomorrow morning. We can’t go and explore that tower
tomorrow, Julian. The Barnies will be here, and we’ve promised Mrs Penruthlan
to help her.’
‘It’ll
have to be next day, then,’ said Julian. ‘But I’m determined to go. Yan said he
wouldn’t show us the way. He said he was too “frit”!’
‘I
feel pretty frit myself,’ said George, settling down. ‘I should have jumped out
of my skin if I’d seen that light tonight.’
The
boys stole back to their room. Soon they were in bed and asleep. The wind still
howled round the house, but they didn’t hear it. They were tired out with their
long walk over the hills.
Next
day was so busy that it was quite dificult to find time to remember the night’s
happenings! They were reminded of it by one thing, though!
Mrs
Penruthlan was seeing to their breakfast, and making bright conversation as
usual. She was never at a loss for words, and chattered all day long either to
the children or to the dogs.
‘Did
you sleep well with that howling gale blowing all night long?’ she asked. ‘I
slept like a top. So did Mr Penruthlan! He told me he never moved all night, he
was that tired!’
The
children kicked each other under the table, but said nothing. They knew quite a
lot more about her husband’s nights than she did!
After
that they had very little time to think of anything but picking fruit, podding
peas, rushing here and there, carrying things for the Barnies, helping them to
put up benches, barrels, boxes and chairs for the audience to sit on, and even
mending tears in some of the stage clothes! Anne had offered to sew on a
button, and at once found herself overwhelmed with requests to mend this, that
and the other!
It
was an extremely busy day. Yan appeared as usual and was greeted uproariously
by Timmy, of course. All the dogs loved him, but Timmy was quite silly with
him. Mrs Penruthlan sent Yan on endless errands, which he ran quickly and
willingly.
‘He
may be a bit simple, but he’s quick enough when he thinks there’s some good
food he’s going to share!’ she said. So it was ‘Fetch this, Yan!’ ‘Do that,
Yan!’ all day long.
The
Barnies worked hard, too. They had a quick rehearsal in which every single
thing went wrong; the Guv’nor raved and raged and stamped, making Anne wonder
why they didn’t all run away and stay away!
First
there was to be a kind of concert party such as pierrots give on the beaches.
Then there was to be a play, most heart-rending and melodramatic, with villains
and heroes and a heroine who was very hardly used. But everything came right
for her in the end, Anne was relieved to find!
Clopper
the horse was to have no definite performance of his own. He just wandered on
and off the stage to get laughs and to please everyone, or to fill awkward
gaps. There was no doubt he would do this to perfection!
Julian
and Dick watched Mr Binks and Sid doing a small rehearsal on their own in a
corner of the farmyard. How well those back legs and front legs worked
together! How that horse danced, trotted, galloped, marched, fell over, tied
itself into knots, sat down, got up, went to sleep, and, in fact, did every
comical thing that Sid and Mr Binks could think of. They really were very, very
funny.
‘Let
me try the head on, Mr Binks,’ begged Julian. ‘Do let me. Just to feel what
it’s like.’
But
it was no good. Sid wouldn’t let him. Mr Binks had no say in the matter at all.
 ‘I don’t want to lose my job. The Guv’nor says if this horse’s head is
mislaid again, I’ll be mislaid, too! So hands off Clopper!’
‘Do
you sleep with Clopper?’ asked Dick, curiously. ‘Having to take charge of a
horse’s head all the time must be a bore!’
‘You
get used to it,’ said Sid. ‘Yes, I sleep with old Clopper. Him and me have our
heads on the pillow together. He sleeps sound, does old Clopper!’
‘He’s
the best part of the show,’ grinned Julian. ‘You’ll bring the barn down with
Clopper tonight!’
‘We
always do,’ said Mr Binks. ‘He’s the most important member of the Barnies, and
he gets paid the worst. Shame.’
‘Yes,
back-legs and front-legs are badly paid,’ said Sid. ‘They only count as one
player, see, so we get half pay.
They
went off together, Sid carrying the horse’s head as usual under his arm.
Julian
suddenly remembered something at dinnertime. ‘Mrs Penruthlan,’ he said, ‘I
suppose that awful wind didn’t cause any wrecks last night, did it?’
The
farmer’s wife looked surprised. ‘No, Julian. Why should it? Ships keep right
out to sea round these coasts now. The lighthouse warns them, you know. The
only way any ship could come in now would be to nose into one of the caves at
full tide, and then she’d have to be very careful of rocks. The fishermen know
the rocks as well as they know the backs of their hands, and they come into the
coves at times. But no other craft come now.’
Everyone
heaved a sigh of relief. The flashing light hadn’t caused a wreck last night,
then. That was a mercy! They went on with their meal. Mr Penruthlan was there,
eating away as usual, and saying nothing at all. His jaws worked vigorously up
and down, and it was impossible to think he had no teeth to chew with. Julian
glanced at his hands, covered with black hairs. Yes, he had seen those hands
last night, no doubt about that! Not wielding a knife and fork, but sliding
into pockets.
The
evening came at last. Everything was ready. A big table was placed in the kitchen,
made of strong trestles and boards. Mrs Penruthlan gave the two girls a most
enormous white cloth to lay over it. It was bigger than any cloth they had ever
seen!
‘It’s
the one I use at harvest-time,’ said the farmer’s wife, proudly. ‘We have a
wonderful harvest supper then, on that same table, but we put it out in the big
barn because there’s not enough room here in the kitchen for all the farm
workers. And we clear the table away afterwards and have a dance.’
‘What
fun!’ said Anne. ‘I do think people are lucky to live on a farm. There’s always
something going on!’
‘Town
folk wouldn’t say that!’ said Mrs Penruthlan. ‘They think the country is a
dead-and-alive place, but, my word, there’s more life about a farm than
anywhere else in the world. Farm life’s the real thing I always say!’
‘It
is,’ agreed Anne, and George nodded, too. They had now spread out the
snowy-white cloth and it looked lovely.
‘That
cloth’s the real thing, too,’ said Mrs Penruthlan. ‘It belonged to my
great-great-great-grand-mother, and it’s nearly two hundred years old! As white
as ever and not a darn in it! It’s seen more harvest suppers than any cloth
made, and that’s the truth!’
The
table was laid with plates and knives and forks, cruets and glasses. All the
Barnies had been invited, and there were the children, too, of course. One or
two of the villagers were staying as well, to help.
The
larder was so crammed with food that it was difficult to get into it. Meat
pies, fruit pies, hams, a great round tongue, pickles, sauces, jam tarts,
stewed and fresh fruit, jellies, a great trifle, jugs of cream - there was no
end to the things Mrs Penruthlan had got ready. She laughed when she saw the
children peeping there and marvelling.
‘You
won’t get any high tea today,’ she told them. ‘You’ll get nothing from dinner
till supper, so that you can get up a good appetite and really eat well!’
Nobody
minded missing high tea with that wonderful supper to come. The excitement grew
as the time came near for the show. ‘Here come the first villagers!’ cried
Julian, who was at the barn door to help to sell the tickets. ‘Hurrah! It will
soon begin! Walk up, everyone! Finest show in the world. Come along in your
hundreds! Come along!’
Chapter
Eleven
THE
BARNIES - AND CLOPPER
When
the big barn was full of villagers, and a few more boxes had been fetched for
some of the extra children, the noise was tremendous. Everyone was laughing and
talking, some of the children were clapping for the show to begin, and the
excited farm dogs were yapping and barking at the top of their voices!
Timmy
was excited, too. He welcomed everyone with a bark and a vigorous wag. Yan was
with him, and George was sure that he was pretending that Timmy was his dog!
Yan looked cleaner than usual. Mrs Penruthlan had actually given him a bath!
‘You
don’t come to the show and you don’t come to the supper unless you bath
yourself,’ she threatened. But he wouldn’t. He said he was ‘frit’ of the bath!
‘I’ll
be drowned in there,’ he said, backing away from it hurriedly. It was already
half full of water for him!
‘Frit,
are you!’ said Mrs Penruthlan grimly, lifting him up and plunging him into the
water, clothes and all. ‘Well, you’ll be fritter still now! Take your clothes
off in the water and I’ll wash them in the bath when you’re clean.
Yan
screamed the place down as Mrs Penruthlan scrubbed him and soaped him and
flannelled him. He hit out at her, but she gave him one sound spank on his
small behind, and he stopped very suddenly. He felt very much at her mercy, and
decided not to annoy her in any way while he was in that dreadful bath!
She
washed his ragged pants and shirt, too, and set them to dry. She wrapped him in
an old shawl, and told him to wait till his things dried and then put them on.
‘One
of these days I’ll make you some decent clothes,’ she said. ‘Little rapscallion
that you are! What a mite of a body you’ve got. I’ll need to feed you up a
bit!’
Yan
brightened up considerably. Feeding up was the kind of treatment he really
liked!
Now
he was down in the barn, welcoming everyone with Timmy, and feeling quite
important. He yelled with delight when he saw his old great-grandfather coming
along!
‘Grandad!
You said you was coming, but I didn’t believe you. Come you in.
‘What you done to yourself?’
‘I’ve
took a bath. See?’ said Yan, sounding proud. ‘Iss. I took a bath, Grandad. Same
as you ought.’
Grandad
aimed a cuff at him, and then nodded to various people he knew. He had his big
old shepherd’s crook with him, and he held on to it even when he sat down on a
chair.
‘Well,
Grandad, it’s nigh on twenty year since we saw you down hereabouts,’ said a
big, red-faced villager.
 And if
you want to know summat, I’ll tell you this. It bain’t the show I’m come for,
it’s the supper.’
Everyone
roared with laughter, and Grandad looked as pleased as Punch. Yan looked at him
proudly. His old Grandad was as good as anyone, any day!
‘Sh!
Sh! Show’s going to begin!’ said somebody, when they saw the curtain twitching.
At once the talking and shuffling stopped, and all eyes turned to the stage. A
faded, rather torn blue curtain was drawn across.
There
came a chord from a fiddle behind the scenes, and then a gay tune sounded out.
The curtain was drawn back slowly, halting on its rings here and there, and the
audience gave a long sigh of delight. They had seen the Barnies many times but
they never tired of them.
All
the Barnies were on the stage, and the fiddler fiddled away as they struck up a
rousing song with a chorus that all the villagers joined in most heartily. Old
Grandad beat time, banging his crook on the floor.
Everything
was applauded heartily. Then someone called out loudly. ‘Where’s old Clopper?
Where be he?’
And
old Clopper the horse came shyly on, looking out of the sides of his eyes at
the audience, and being so very bashful that old Grandad almost fell off his
chair with laughing.
The
fiddle struck up again and Clopper marched in time to it. It grew quicker, and
he ran. It grew quicker still and he galloped, and fell right off the stage.
‘Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!’
roared someone. ‘HOO-HOO-HOO-HOO!’ It was such an enormous guffaw that everyone
turned round. It came from Mr Penruthlan, who was writhing and wriggling in his
seat as if he was in great pain. But he was only laughing at Clopper.
Clopper
heard the giant of a laugh and put a hoof behind one ear to listen to it.
Grandad promptly fell off his seat with joy. Clopper caught his back legs in
his front legs and fell over too. There was such a pandemonium of screams and
guffaws and yells from the delighted audience that it was surprising the roof
didn’t fall in.
‘Off
now,’ said a firm voice at the side of the stage. Julian looked to see who it
was, as Clopper obediently turned to shuffle off, waving one back leg to the
admiring villagers. The voice came from the Guv’nor who was standing where he
could watch the whole show in detail. His face was still unsmiling, even after
Clopper’s antics!
The
show was a great success, although it could not have been simpler. The jokes
were old, the play acted was even older, the singing was a bit flat, and the
dancing not as good as the third form of a girls’ school, but it was so merry
and smiling and idiotic and good-natured that it went with a terrific swing
from start to finish.
As
for Clopper, it was his evening! Every time his head so much as looked in on
the stage, the audience rocked with joy. They would, in fact, have been
delighted to have had one actor only, all the evening, and that actor, Clopper,
of course. Julian and Dick watched him, fascinated. How they both longed to try
on those back and front legs, and put on the head, and do a little ‘cloppering’
themselves!
‘Sid
and Binks are awfully good, aren’t they?’ said Dick. ‘Gosh, I wish we could get
hold of legs and a head and do that act at the Christmas school concert, Ju!
We’d bring the house down. Let’s ask Sid if we can have a shot some time.’
‘He
won’t lend us the head,’ said Julian. ‘Still, we could do without that, and
just try the legs. I bet we could think of some funny things to do, Dick!’
Everybody
was sad when the curtain went across the stage, and the show was over. The
fiddle struck up ‘God Save the Queen’, and everyone rose loyally to stand and sing
every word lustily.
‘Three
cheers for the Barnies!’ yelled a child, and the hip-hurrahing rose to the
rafters.
‘Now,
old Grandad!’ said the farmer, rubbing his neck, ‘you trying to pick a fight
with me? No, no, I’d be afeared to take you on, I would.
Grandad
was delighted. He hadn’t had such an evening for forty years! Maybe fifty. And
now for that supper. That was what he had really come for. He’d show some of
these sixty-year-old youngsters how to eat!
The
villagers went home, talking and laughing. Two or three of the women stayed on
to help. The Barnies didn’t bother to change out of their acting clothes, but
came into the kitchen as they were, grease-paint running down their cheeks in
the heat. The barn had got very hot with so many people packed in close
together.
The
children were simply delighted with everything. They had laughed so much at
Clopper that they felt quite weak. The play had amused them too, with its
sighings and groanings and threats and tears and stridings around. Now they
were more than ready for their supper!
The
Barnies crowded round the loaded table, cracking jokes, complimenting Mrs
Penruthlan, smacking everyone on the back, and generally behaving like a lot of
school children out for a treat. Julian looked round at them all. What a jolly
lot! He looked for the Guv’nor, surely for once in a way he too would be
smiling and cheerful.
But
he wasn’t there. Julian looked and looked again. No, he certainly wasn’t there.
‘Where’s
the Guv’nor?’ he asked Sid, who was sitting next to him.
‘The
Guv’nor? Oh, he’s sitting in solitary state in the barn,’ said Sid, attacking
an enormous slice of meat-pie laced with hard-boiled eggs. ‘He never feeds with
us, not even after a show. Keeps himself to himself, he does! He’ll be having a
whacking great tray of food all on his own. Suits me all right! I never did get
on with the Guv’nor.’
‘Where’s
Clopper - the horse’s head, I mean?’ asked Julian. He couldn’t see it beside
Sid anywhere. ‘Is it under the table?’
‘No.
The Guv’nor’s got it tonight. Said he wasn’t going to have it rolled about
under the table, or have jelly or gravy dropped all over it,’ said Sid, taking
six large pickled onions. ‘My, Mrs Penruthlan is a wonder! Why don’t I marry
someone like her, instead of getting thinner and thinner inside Clopper’s
back-legs?’
Julian
laughed. He wondered who was going to take the Guv’nor’s tray into the barn. He
noticed that Mrs Penruthlan was getting one ready, and he went over to her.
‘Is
that for the Guv’nor?’ he asked. ‘Shall I take it for you?’
‘Oh,
thank you, Julian,’ said the busy farmer’s wife, gratefully. ‘Here it is, and
ask Dick to carry in a bottle and a glass for him, will you? There’s no more
room on the tray.’
So
Julian and Dick together went out to the barn with the food and drink. The wind
still blew strongly and rain was beginning to fall again.
‘There’s
no one here,’ said Julian, looking round. He set down the tray, puzzled. Then
he saw a note pinned on the curtain. He went to read it.
‘Back
in an hour,’ he read. ‘Gone for a walk. The Guv’nor.’
‘Oh
well, we’ll leave the tray then,’ said Julian. He and Dick were just turning to
go when they caught sight of something, the back and front legs of Clopper the
horse! They stopped, each with the same thought in his mind.
‘Everyone
at supper! The Guv’nor gone for an hour. Nobody would know if we tried on the
legs!’
They
looked at one another, and read each other’s mind. ‘Let’s have a go at being
Clopper!’
‘Come
on, quick,’ said Julian.
Quick!’
They
got into them hurriedly, and Julian managed to do up most of the zip. But it
wasn’t right without the head. Had the Guv’nor taken it with him? Surely not.”
It would be quite safe in the barn.
‘There
it is, on that chair under the shawl!’ said Dick, and they galloped over to get
it. Julian picked it up. It was rather heavier than he had imagined. He looked
inside it to see how far his head went in it, wondering how to work the eyes
and mouth.
He
put his hand inside, and scrabbled about. A lid fell open in the side of the
neck, and out came some cigarettes, scattering over the floor. ‘Blow!’ said
Julian, ‘I didn’t know Mr Binks kept his cigarettes in Clopper. Pick them up,
Dick, and I’ll put them back. Thanks.’
 Then he
put the head carefully over his own, It felt extremely strange.
‘There
are eye-holes in the neck,’ he said to Dick. ‘That’s how Mr Binks knew where he
was going. I kept wondering why he didn’t bump into things more than he did!
Now - I’m ready. The head seems to be on firmly. I’ll count - one-two, one-two
- and we’ll walk in time. Don’t let’s start any funny tricks till we’re used to
Clopper. Does my voice sound funny inside the neck?’
‘Most
peculiar,’ said Dick, who was now bending over so that his back made the horse’s
back, and his arms were round Julian’s waist. ‘I say, what’s that?’
‘Someone’s
coming, it’s the Guv’nor coming back!’ said Julian in alarm. ‘Quick, gallop out
of the door before we’re caught.’
And
so, to the Guv’nor’s enormous surprise Clopper galloped very clumsily out of
the barn door just as he was coming in, almost knocking him over. At first he
didn’t realize it was Clopper, then he let out a loud roar and gave chase.
‘I
can’t see,’ panted poor Julian. ‘Where am I going? Oh thank goodness, it’s an empty
stable! Quick, let’s un-zip ourselves, and you’ll have to take this head off
for me, I can’t manage it myself.’
But
alas and alack! The zip got stuck and wouldn’t come undone. The boys tugged and
pulled but it wasn’t a bit of good. It looked as if they had got to be Clopper
for the rest of the evening!
Chapter
Twelve
A
TRIP TO THE TOWER
‘Blow
this zip!’ said Julian, desperately. ‘It’s got absolutely stuck! It’s so
dificult for us to undo it from the inside of the beastly horse. Oh, this head.
I must get it off.’
He
pushed at the head but somehow or other it had got wedged on him, and Julian
felt that short of pulling his own head off he would certainly never get
Clopper’s off!
The
horse sat down, exhausted, looking a very peculiar shape. Julian leaned the
head against the wall of the stable and panted. ‘I’m so hot,’ he complained.
‘Dick, for goodness sake think of something. We’ll have to get help. But I
daren’t go back to the barn because of the Guv’nor, and we really can’t appear
in the kitchen like this. Everyone would have a fit, and Sid and Mr Binks would
be furious with us.
‘I
think we were asses to try this,’ said Dick, pulling viciously at the zip
again. ‘Ugh! What use are zips, I’d like to know. I feel most uncomfortable.
Can’t you get in some other position, Ju ? I seem to be standing'‘ on my head
or something.’
‘Let’s
go and scout round the kitchen,’ said Julian trying to get up. Dick tried to
get up too, but they both fell down on top of one another. They tried again and
this time stood up rather shakily.
‘It’s
not as easy as it looks, is it, to be a two-man horse,’ said Julian. ‘I wish I
could get these eye holes in the right place. I’m absolutely blind!’
However,
he managed to adjust them at last, and the two boys made their way cautiously
and clumsily out of the stable. They went carefully over the farm-yard, Julian
counting one-two, one-two, under his breath so that they walked in time with
one another.
They
came to the kitchen door and debated whether to try and catch someone’s
attention without going in. There was a fairly large window near by, open
because of the warmth of the kitchen. Julian decided to take a look through to
see if George or Anne were anywhere near. If so, he could call them outside.
But
he reckoned without the clumsiness of the big head! It knocked against the
window-frame, and everyone looked up. There were shrieks at once.
‘A
horse! Farmer Penruthlan, one of your horses is loose!’ cried a villager who