by Jenny Nimmo
"Stop doing that," he snarled at Zelda. "It's not clever. It's just stupid."
"It's called telekinesis!" Zelda retorted. "If you don't mind, darling!"
"I don't care what it is," barked Manfred. "It's getting on my nerves. So shove it."
Zelda made a face and went back to her homework.
Charlie would have found this funny if he hadn't been so worried. The minutes ticked by so slowly he was sure someone had tampered with the clocks. He looked at the painting of the Red King, hanging above Tancred's chair. What would you have done? Thought Charlie.
The mysterious dark eyes gazed out at him. The circlet on the king's head glittered as if it were real gold. Shadows moved in the folds of the deep red cloak. Then unbelievably the tall figure began to change shape and color, until Charlie became convinced he was looking at a red and gold tree. Why can't I hear him? he wondered. He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the tree had gone. My mind's playing tricks, he thought.
By the time eight o'clock came around, Charlie could hardly contain himself He rushed out of the King's room with Gabriel loping behind him.
"Have you thought of something?" Gabriel whispered as they hurried up to the dormitory.
"I haven't got a real plan," Charlie admitted, "but I'm going to the ruin tonight, whatever happens."
"I'll come with you."
"No," said Charlie. "It's best if only one of us goes. You can keep an eye on things in the dormitory."
"I don't like it," said Gabriel. “Anything could happen out there."
“ Asa's injured. He won't be so dangerous." Charlie sounded a lot more confident than he felt.
When Fidelio heard Charlie's plan, naturally he wanted to go with him.
"No," said Charlie. "Two of us will attract attention. I think I should go on my own. Henry's my relation."
Billy Raven came into the dormitory and watched the three boys sitting on Charlie's bed.
"You look as if you're plotting something," said Billy.
"We're plotting your downfall," Fidelio told him.
Billy scowled. "You think you're so clever, Fidelio Gunn."
The dormitory began to fill up with boys getting ready for bed and the three friends said no more to one another.
When the cathedral clock struck eleven, Charlie put his blue cape over his bathrobe, and slipped on his socks and shoes. Tiptoeing in heavy shoes wasn't easy, but Charlie managed to creep out of the dormitory without making too much noise. He was beginning to feel rather excited about the adventure ahead. He was certain that he would eventually find Henry And then he turned a corner and walked straight into Lucretia Yewbeam.
"Where are you going?" the matron demanded.
"I think I was sleepwalking," said Charlie.
"Rubbish. What's that you've got?"
"Nothing." Charlie held Cook's flashlight behind his back.
"Give it to me. Now!"
Charlie reluctantly handed over the flashlight.
" Hm, interesting," Lucretia turned the flashlight over in her hand. "Where did you get it?"
"I found it at home."
"Did you now? Well, it's confiscated. Go back to bed."
"But I can't see without my flashlight."
"Then, sleepwalk. Go on!"
Charlie turned back and felt his way along the dark passages. He had almost reached his dormitory door when he fell over something and crashed onto the floorboards. Picking himself up, Charlie groped in the darkness until he found what had tripped him up. A body lay sprawled across the passage.
Whoever it was, lying so still, had a mop of hair and seemed to be a bit taller than Charlie.
"Fidelio," breathed Charlie. "Fidelio, wake up!"
Charlie tapped his friend's cold forehead and shook his arm, gently at first and then desperately "Wake up! Wake up!"
The body didn't stir.
Charlie ran into the dormitory and found Gabriel's bed.
"Gabriel," he whispered harshly "Gabriel, help me!"
Gabriel grunted and sat up. "What's going on?"
"Fidelio's lying in the passage," said Charlie. "I can't wake him up."
Gabriel grabbed his flashlight, swung his feet to the floor, and followed Charlie into the passage. Between them they managed to lift Fidelio and carry him back to his bed. Fidelio slept on. He was limp and cold and barely breathing. Gabriel shone his flashlight on Fidelio's face. His eyes were wide open but they stared out with a blank, fixed expression.
"He's been hypnotized," gasped Charlie. "We can't leave him like this till morning, he may never wake up."
Gabriel went to the bathroom and came back with a mug of cold water. "Sorry about this," he said under his breath. He poured the water over Fidelio's head.
With a shiver and a moan, Fidelio opened his eyes even wider and looked up at Charlie. "What happened?" he said.
“You tell us," said Charlie. "I found you in the passage."
"I tried to follow you," mumbled Fidelio. "Manfred caught me. He held a flashlight up to his face. And made me look at him. His eyes were horrible — like coal, black and shiny"
"You were hypnotized," said Charlie. "Do you feel OK now?"
"Sleepy Got to get some sleep."
"Me, too," said Gabriel. "Night, you two."
Charlie got into bed. He took a long time drifting off to sleep. He was worried. Now even his friends were being watched. Someone was determined to stop him from rescuing Henry.
At the other end of the dormitory Billy Raven lay wide awake. When he was quite sure that everyone else was asleep, he got out of bed. it was time to see Mr. Ezekiel. He knew it was no use waiting for Blessed. The old dog was an enemy now and Billy was a little sorry about this. "Couldn't be helped," he muttered, wrapping himself in his new blue bathrobe.
The powerful beam from his new flashlight helped him to find his way quickly through the building, but once he was in the gaslit passages of the west wing, Billy turned off his flashlight. Almost as soon as he did this, he tripped over an empty jam jar. Something else lived in Ezekiel's shadowy regions, and occasionally it threw jam jars down the rickety steps that led to the attic. Billy wasn't sure if it was a ghost, or something worse. He ran toward Ezekiel's room, but as he approached it, he heard several angry shouts. Billy put his ear to the door.
"Someone's hiding it!" screeched Ezekiel. "One of those wretched children."
"The children were all at home," said a voice, "except for Billy of course."
Billy stiffened. He recognized the voice of Miss Yewbeam, the matron.
"I want it," growled the old man. "I must have it."
"Calm down, Ezekiel. There are other ways of getting rid of the boy"
"Has Charlie got the painting?"
"Oh, yes," said the matron. "We made sure of that."
"You think he'll be tempted to go in?" Ezekiel's voice had turned sly and eager.
"I'm sure of it. But who knows if he'll fetch the dagger."
"Of course he will," said Ezekiel. “Any boy would choose a dagger; all sharp and shiny."
"We had a bit of trouble with Paton," said Lucretia. "I think he knows more than he should."
"You'll have to do something about that brother of yours. He reads too much."
The matron gave a nasty laugh. "Oh, yes, he reads," she sniggered. “And that will be his downfall. Leave it to us."
Miss Yewbeam's laugh was infectious and soon they were both swept into a bout of unrestrained giggling.
Billy chose this moment to knock.
"Who is it?" said Ezekiel, still chuckling.
"Billy Raven, sir," said Billy.
"Ah, I want a word with you," said Ezekiel.
Billy entered the room. He was feeling hopeful. Surely he was due for a reward. He was in for a nasty shock.
When the old man saw Billy he screamed, "You wretch. You kicked my doggie."
"But I helped to catch the boy from nowhere," said Billy taken aback.
Ezekiel ignored this. "Why did
you kick my Percy?"
"He wouldn't talk to me." Billy was beginning to lose hope. "When am I going to get new parents, sir?"
"You don't hurt my doggie. No parents for you. You'll have to do better. Now get out!"
As Billy turned to go he saw a look of scorn cross Matron Yewbeam's face. It was quite obvious that she didn't like children one bit.
CHAPTER 13
RUN OVER!
Charlie couldn't remember when he'd had such a horrible week.
It took Fidelio several days to recover from being hypnotized. He wandered along beside Charlie, hardly talking. Sometimes he forgot Charlie's name, and sometimes even his own.
During the day it was impossible to get into the ruin because Mr. Weedon was always there.
"Clear out!" the gardener would shout. "Go on. Buzz off!"
At night, whenever Charlie tried to leave the dormitory Lucretia Yewbeam was always lurking around a corner, ready to pounce on him. In the end he just gave up. But Henry was on his mind all the time. Where was he? Was he being starved to death?
It suddenly dawned on Charlie that Henry had no parents to come looking for him. No one would miss him because he shouldn't really exist. There was Cook, of course, and Mrs. Bloor. But what could they do, and who would believe poor Mrs. Bloor?
"It's up to me," Charlie murmured.
"What's up to you?" asked Fidelio.
It was Friday afternoon and they were packing their bags, ready to go home.
Charlie looked up. "Fidelio, that's the first sensible thing you've said all week. Are you feeling better?"
Fidelio nodded, "It's wearing off. But I've still got a headache. I'd like to give Manfred a taste of his own medicine."
"One day we'll get our own back," muttered Gabriel.
Billy Raven came in and Fidelio whispered, "It's all his fault. He's a spy."
But Charlie felt almost sorry for Billy he looked so lonely and fed up.
"Don't be deceived," Fidelio muttered. "He's still dangerous."
The three boys ran down to the hall and out through the great oak doors.
“Another weekend of freedom!" cried Gabriel. "Gerbils, here I come!"
They leaped on the blue school bus and were soon on the move. Filbert Street was one of the last stops and Charlie could hardly wait to get home. He wanted to ask his uncle what to do about Henry.
As soon as Charlie got off the bus he saw Benjamin and Runner Bean racing toward him. From the look on Benjamin's face, Charlie knew that something was wrong.
"What's happened?" he asked when Benjamin stood panting beside him.
"Oh, Charlie, it's awful. Your uncle was run over!"
"What?" Charlie dropped his bag. "When? How? Is he . . .?"
"No, he's not dead." Benjamin paused to get his breath back. "He's in the hospital. It was up near the cathedral," Benjamin panted. "Someone saw your uncle step into the road while he was reading a book. A car came around the corner and went straight into him. It didn't stop, it just sped off."
"No," Charlie moaned. "I was afraid this would happen."
When they reached number nine, Benjamin didn't come in with Charlie. "You'll want to be alone with your family" he said. "I expect they'll be going to the hospital."
Maisie opened the door and squeezed Charlie with a violent hug. "Oh, Charlie," she cried. "What a catastrophe. Did Benjamin tell you?"
"Yes." Charlie twisted himself out of Maisie's arms "Is Uncle Paton . . .? Is he OK? I mean, is he talking?"
"He wasn't yesterday" said Maisie. "His head was all wrapped up and so were his ribs. Poor Paton. He looked awful."
"Do they know who did it?"
"Hit and run," said Maisie grimly "There were a couple of witnesses, but they didn't get the number. The car just raced away."
Maisie led Charlie into the kitchen where his mother was laying three places at the table.
"We're going to see your uncle later," she said, pecking Charlie's cheek. "Do you want to come, Charlie?"
"You bet," said Charlie.
After tea they took a taxi up to the hospital It was a large building and they spent a long time looking for the right ward. As they walked down the long aisle between the rows of beds, they recognized two people sitting beside one of the patients: Emma and Miss Ingledew.
"I'd like to give that woman a piece of my mind," Maisie muttered. "It's all her fault. She's been horrible to Paton."
When it came to it, Maisie couldn't say a word, because as soon as she saw them, Mss Ingledew jumped up and said in a tearful voice, "I'm so, so sorry for what's happened. I blame myself entirely Paton was coming to see me, and I . . . Oh, he shouldn't have put himself at risk like that. I feel so guilty." She blew her nose very loudly.
"It's not your fault, Julia," said Amy Bone, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Paton was just trying out a little experiment. One of us should have been with him, but he just slipped out without our knowing."
All that could be seen of Paton was his white face. He had a black mask over his eyes and a bandage around his head.
"Is he conscious?" Charlie asked in a whisper.
"Yes," said a thin voice that was still unmistakably Paton's.
Charlie bent closer to his uncle. "How do you feel, Uncle Paton?" he asked. "You are going to get better, aren't you?"
"Of course." His voice dropped to a whisper. "It was one of them, Charlie."
"One of who?"
"My sisters. She was wearing a wig. I can't tell them apart without seeing the hair, but I know"
Charlie was so shocked he sat down heavily on the side of the bed.
Miss Ingledew got up to leave, but before she went she handed Charlie a small, battered-looking book. "I found it in the gutter after your uncle's accident," she said. "He asked me to give it to you. That's right, isn't it, Paton?"
"Yes," he said weakly.
"Good-bye, Paton dear. I'll be back tomorrow."
As Miss Ingledew turned away Paton gave a very slight smile.
Emma came around to Charlie's side of the bed and said, "I'm sorry Charlie. I haven't been very nice just lately. But I want to help."
"OK," said Charlie awkwardly.
"I mean, I will help."
"Thanks," he said. "See you on Monday"
Emma could fly and that could be useful.
Miss Ingledew and her niece walked away and Maisie began to tell Paton all the news she could remember, both public and personal. While she talked, Charlie looked at the small brown book. The name Geiriadur was printed in faded gold on the cover. Inside there were columns of words in a strange language.
After a while Paton gave a huge yawn and murmured, "I'm wearing the mask because of the lights. I told them they hurt my eyes. It could've been nasty.”
"It certainly could," said Mrs. Bone, gazing up at the rows of fluorescent lights.
"Good night, everyone," said Paton with another yawn.
Taking the hint, Mrs. Bone and Maisie got up to leave, but leaning closer to his uncle, Charlie said, "Uncle Paton, the book's in a foreign language."
"Welsh," muttered Paton. "You'll need it for Skarpo.”
"Why?"
Paton didn't answer. He merely said, "Keep it safe.”
Charlie wanted to ask his uncle's advice about Henry but he didn't see how he could while Paton was so ill.
A nurse appeared with a cart full of pills and, promising to return next day the three visitors said good night to Paton and left the hospital.
At number nine they found Grandma Bone in the kitchen eating cake.
"You haven't been to see Paton," Maisie said accusingly.
"I've been busy," grunted Grandma Bone.
"Grizelda! Your own brother!" Maisie turned away in disgust. "You've got a heart of stone."
Grandma Bone ignored her. She took a large bite of cream cake and then noticed the book Charlie was holding.
"What's that you've got?" She stared at Charlie's hand.
A book," said Charlie.
<
br /> "I can see that," she said irritably "What sort of book? Give it here." "No. It's private."
Charlie ran upstairs. He didn't trust Grandma Bone. She was bound to come snooping in his room as soon as she got the chance. He found that the book just fit into his pants pocket. He would keep it with him wherever he went. Tomorrow they would pay another visit to the hospital and he could have a private chat with his uncle.
It was not to be. Next day when Charlie asked to visit the hospital, Maisie looked glum. "Grandma Bone and the Yewbeams are going today" she said. “And I’m not traveling up there in Eustacia's car. She drives like a maniac."
"What about Mom?" asked Charlie.
"She can't get away from work until after visiting hours."
Charlie didn't know what to do. At length he decided he must see his uncle, so at three o'clock when Eustacia's black car pulled up outside number nine Charlie got in the back with Grandma Bone. Aunt Venetia was in the passenger seat.
"What a treat," exclaimed Aunt Venetia. "We're going to have little Charlie with us."
"Not little, if you don't mind," muttered Charlie.
"Sensitive about our size, are we?" Venetia giggled.
Charlie didn't think there was any point in replying.
As soon as they reached Paton's ward, Charlie realized that any conversation with his uncle would be impossible. When Paton heard his sisters' voices his face took on a blank, shuttered look, and he refused to speak.
"He doesn't appear to be conscious," said Grandma Bone. She raised her voice, "Paton, it's US. Your SISTERS. Aren't you going to talk to us?"
Paton's face remained blank.
"We've bought grapes," said Eustacia, plonking a bag on the bedside table.
“And Charlie's here," added Venetia.
Paton gave no sign that he'd heard them. Charlie didn't blame him. The three sisters sat around the bed discussing the weather and the national news as if their brother were not there.
After half an hour they stood up, and Charlie took his chance. Leaning over his uncle, he whispered. "See you next weekend, Uncle P"
"You're on," murmured Paton.
"He spoke!" cried Venetia. "Charlie, what did he say?"
