Blyton, Enid – Famous Five 02 – Five Go Adventuring Again

‘Yes,’ said Dick. All the children leaned over towards Mr. Roland, hoping he would be able to unravel a little of the mystery for them.

‘We just want to know the meaning of the words, sir,’ said Julian.

‘This is really very interesting,’ said the tutor, puzzling over the linen. ‘Apparently there are directions here for finding the opening or entrance of a secret path or road.’

‘That’s what we thought!’ cried Julian, excitedly. ‘That’s exactly what we thought. Oh sir, do read the directions and see what you make of them.’

‘Well, these eight squares are meant to represent wooden boards or panels, I think,’ said the tutor, pointing to the eight rough squares drawn on the linen. ‘Wait a minute – I can hardly read some of the words. This is most fascinating, Solum lapideum – paries ligneus – and what’s this – cellula – yes, cellulal’

The children hung on his words. ‘Wooden panels!’ That must mean panels somewhere at Kirrin Farmhouse.

Mr. Roland frowned down at the old printed words. Then he sent Anne to borrow a magnifying glass from her uncle. She came back with it, and the four of them looked through the glass, seeing the words three times as clearly now.

‘Well,’ said the tutor at last, ‘as far as I can make out the direction mean this: a room facing east; eight wooden panels, with an opening somewhere to be found

in that marked one; a stone floor – yes, I think that’s right, a stone floor; and a cupboard. It all sounds most extraordinary and very thrilling. Where did you get this from?’

‘We just found it,’ said Julian, after a pause. ‘Oh Mr. Roland, thanks awfully. We could never have made it out by ourselves. I suppose the entrance to the Secret Way is in a room facing east then.’

‘It looks like it,’ said Mr. Roland, poring over the linen roll again. ‘Where did you say you found this ?’

‘We didn’t say,’ said Dick. ‘It’s a secret really, you see.’

‘I think you might tell me,’ said the tutor, looking at Dick with his brilliant blue eyes. ‘I can be trusted with secrets. You’ve no idea how many queer secrets I know.’

‘Well,’ said Julian, ‘I don’t really see why you shouldn’t know where we found this, Mr. Roland. We found it at Kirrin Farmhouse, in an old tobacco pouch. I suppose the Secret Way begins somewhere there! I wonder where and wherever can it lead to ?’

‘You found it at Kirrin Farmhouse!’ exclaimed Mr. Roland. ‘Well, well – I must say that seems to be an interesting old place. I shall have to go over there one day.’

Julian rolled up the piece of linen and put it into his pocket. ‘Well, thank you, sir,’ he said. ‘You’ve solved a bit of the mystery for us but set us another puzzle! We must look for the entrance of the Secret Way after Christmas, when we can walk over to Kirrin Farmhouse.3

Til come with you,’ said Mr. Roland. ‘I may be able

to help a little. That is – if you don’t mind me having a little share in this exciting secret.’

‘Well – you’ve been such a help in telling us what the words mean,’ said Julian; ‘we’d like you to come if you want to, sir.’

‘Yes, we would,’ said Anne.

‘We’ll go and look for the Secret Way, then,’ said Mr. Roland. ‘What fun we shall have, tapping round the panels, waiting for a mysterious dark entrance to appear!’

‘I don’t suppose George will go,’ Dick murmured to Julian. ‘You shouldn’t have said Mr. Roland could go with us, Ju. That means that old George will have to be left out of it. You know how she hates that.’

‘I know,’ said Julian, feeling uncomfortable. ‘Don’t let’s worry about that now though. George may feel different after Christmas. She can’t keep up this kind of behaviour for ever!’

Chapter Eight

WHAT HAPPENED ON CHRISTMAS NIGHT

IT was great fun on Christmas morning. The children awoke early and tumbled out of bed to look at the presents that were stacked on chairs near by. Squeals and yells of delight came from everyone.

‘Oh! a railway station! Just what I wanted! Who gave me this marvellous station ?’

‘A new doll – with eyes that shut! I shall call her Betsy-May. She looks just like a Betsy-May!’

‘I say – what a whopping great book – all about aeroplanes. From Aunt Fanny! How decent of her!’

‘Timothy! Look what Julian has given you – a collar with big brass studs all round – you will be grand. Go and lick him to say thank you!’

‘Who’s this from? I say, who gave me this? Where’s the label? Oh – from Mr. Roland. How decent of him! Look, Julian, a pocket-knife with three blades!’

So the cries and exclamations went on, and the four excited children and the equally-excited dog spent a glorious hour before a late Christmas breakfast, opening all kinds and shapes of parcels. The bedrooms were in a fine mess when the children had finished!

‘Who gave you that book about dogs, George ?’ asked Julian, seeing rather a nice dog-book lying on George’s pile.

‘Mr. Roland,’ said George, rather shortly. Julian 80

wondered if George was going to accept it. He rathei thought she wouldn’t. But the little girl, defiant and obstinate as she was, had made up her mind not to spoil Christmas Day by being ‘difficult’. So, when the others thanked the tutor for their things she too added her thanks, though in rather a stiff little voice.

George had not given the tutor anything, but the others had, and Mr. Roland thanked them all very heartily, appearing to be very pleased indeed. He tolcl Anne that her Christmas card was the nicest he had ever had, and she beamed at him with joy.

‘Well, I must say it’s nice to be here for Christmas!’ said Mr. Roland, when he and the others were sitting round a loaded Christmas table, at the mid-day dinner. ‘Shall I carve for you, Mr. Quentin? I’m good at that!’

Uncle Quentin handed him the carving knife and fork gladly. ‘It’s nice to have you here,’ he said warmly. ‘I must say you’ve settled in well – I’m sure we all feel as if we’ve known you for ages!’

It really was a jolly Christmas Day. There were no lessons, of course, and there were to be none the next day either. The children gave themselves up to the enjoyment of eating a great deal, sucking sweets, and looking forward to the lighting of the Christmas tree.

It looked beautiful when the candles were lighted. They twinkled in the darkness of the hall, and the bright ornaments shone and glowed. Tim sat and looked at it, quite entranced.

‘He likes it as much as we do,’ said George. And indeed Tim had enjoyed the whole day just as much as any of the children.

They were all tired out when they went to bed. ‘I shan’t be long before I’m asleep,’ yawned Anne. ‘Oh, George – it’s been fun, hasn’t it ? I did like the Christmas tree.’

‘Yes, it’s been lovely,’ said George, jumping into bed. ‘Here conies Mother to say good night. Basket, Tim, basket!’

Tim leapt into his basket by the window. He was always there when George’s mother came in to say good night to the girls but as soon as she had gone downstairs, the dog took a flying leap and landed on George’s bed. There he slept, his head curled round her feet.

‘Don’t you think Tim ought to sleep downstairs tonight?’ said George’s mother. ‘Joanna says he ate such an enormous meal in the kitchen that she is sure he will be sick.’

‘Oh no, Mother!’ said George, at once. ‘Make Tim sleep downstairs on Christmas night? Whatever would he think?’

‘Oh, very well,’ said her mother, with a laugh. ‘I might have known it was useless to suggest it. Now go to sleep quickly, Anne and George – it’s late and you are all tired.’

She went into the boys’ room and said good night to them too. They were almost asleep.

Two hours later everyone else was in bed. The house was still and dark. George and Anne slept peacefully in their small beds. Timothy slept too, lying heavily on George’s feet.

Suddenly George awoke with a jump. Tim was growling softly! He had raised his big shaggy head and George knew that he was listening.

‘What is it, Tim ?’ she whispered. Anne did not wake. Tim went on growling softly. George sat up and put her hand on his collar to stop him. She knew that if he awoke her father, he would be cross.

Timothy stopped growling now that he had roused George. The girl sat and wondered what to do. It wasn’t any good waking Annfm The little girl would be frightened. Why was Tint growling ? He never did that at night!

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