‘Julian! Anne! What in the wide world are you doing down there?’ cried Uncle Quentin. He gave them each a hand up, and the four children and Timothy were at last safe in the warm study. How good it was to feel warm again! They got as near the fire as they could.
‘Children – what is the meaning of this?’ asked Aunt Fanny. She looked white and worried. ‘I came into the study to do some dusting, and when I stood on that bit of the rug, it seemed to give way beneath me. When I pulled it up and turned back the carpet, I saw that hole -and the hole in the panelling too! And then I found that all of you had disappeared, and went to fetch your uncle. What has been happening – and where does that hole lead to?’
Dick took the sheaf of papers from under his jersey and gave them to George. She took them and handed them to her father. ‘Are these the missing pages?’ she asked.
Her father fell on them as if they had been worth more than a hundred times their weight in gold. ‘Yes! Yes! They’re the pages – all three of them! Thank goodness they’re back. They took me three years to bring to perfection, and contained the heart of my secret formula. George, where did you get them ?’
‘It’s a very long story,’ said George. ‘You tell it all, Julian, I feel tired.’
Julian began to tell the tale. He left out nothing. He told how George had found Mr. Roland snooping about the study – how she had felt sure that the tutor had not wanted Timmy in the house because the dog gave warning of his movements at night – how George had seen him talking to the two artists, although he had said he did not know them. As the tale went on, Uncle Quentin and Aunt Fanny looked more and more amazed. They simply could not believe it all.
But after all, there were the missing papers, safely back. That was marvellous. Uncle Quentin hugged the papers as if they were a precious baby. He would not put them down for a moment.
George told the bit about Timmy keeping the men off the escaping children. ‘So you see, although you made poor Tim live out in the cold, away from me, he really saved us all, and your papers too,’ she said to her father, fixing her brilliant blue eyes on him.
Her father looked most uncomfortable. He felt very guilty for having punished George and Timothy. They had been right about Mr. Roland and he had been wiong.
‘Poor George,’ he said, ‘and poor Timmy. I’m sorry about all that.’
George did not bear malice once anyone had owned themselves to be in the wrong. She smiled at her father.
‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘But don’t you think that as I was punished unfairly, Mr. Roland might be punished well and truly ? He deserves it!’
‘Oh, he shall be, certainly he shall be,’ promised her father. ‘He’s up in bed with a cold, as you know. I hope he doesn’t hear any of this, or he may try to escape.’
‘He can’t,’ said George. ‘We’re snowed up. You could ring up the police, and arrange for them to come here as soon as ever they can manage it, when the snow has cleared. And I rather think those other two men will try to explore the secret way as soon as possible, to get the papers back. Could we catch them when they arrive, do you think?’
‘Rather!’ said Uncle Quentin, though Aunt Fanny looked as if she didn’t want any more exciting things to happen! ‘Now look here, you seem really frozen all of you, and you must be hungry too, because it’s almost dinner-time. Go into the dining-room and sit by the fire, and Joanna shall bring us all a hot lunch. Then we’ll talk about what to do.’
Nobody said a word to Mr. Roland, of course. He lay in bed, coughing now and then. George had slipped up and locked his door. She wasn’t going to have him wandering out and overhearing anything!
They all enjoyed their hot dinner, and became warm and cosy. It was nice to sit there together, talking over their adventure, and planning what to do.
‘I will telephone to the police, of course,’ said Uncle Quentin. ‘And tonight we will put Timmy into the study to give the two artists a good welcome if they arrive!’
Mr. Roland was most annoyed to find his door locked that afternoon when he took it into his head to dress and go downstairs. He banged on it indignantly. George
grinned and went upstairs. She had told the other children how she had locked the door.
‘What’s the matter, Mr. Roland?’ she asked, in a polite voice.
‘Oh, it’s you, George, is it?’ said the tutor. ‘Well, see what’s the matter with my door, will you ? I can’t open it.’
George had pocketed the key when she had locked the door. She answered Mr. Roland in a cheerful voice.
‘Oh Mr. Roland, there’s no key in your door, so I can’t unlock it. I’ll see if I can find it!’
Mr. Roland was angry and puzzled. He couldn’t understand why his door was locked and the key gone. He did not guess that everyone knew about him now. Uncle Quentin laughed when George went down and told him about the locked door.
‘He may as well be kept a prisoner,’ he said. ‘He can’t escape now.’
That night, everyone went to bed early, and Timmy was left in the study, guarding the hole. Mr. Roland had become more and more angry and puzzled when his door was not unlocked. He had shouted for Uncle Quentin, but only George had come. He could not understand it. George, of course, was enjoying herself. She made Timothy bark outside Mr. Roland’s door, and this puzzled him too, for he knew that George was not supposed to see Timmy for\three days. Wild thoughts raced through his head. Had that fierce, impossible child locked up her father and mother and Joanna, as well as himself? He could not imagine what had happened.
In the middle of the night Timmy awoke everyone
by barking madly. Uncle Quentin and the children hurried downstairs, followed by Aunt Fanny, and the amazed Joanna. A fine sight met their eyes!
Mr. Wilton and Mr. Thomas were in the study crouching behind the sofa, terrified of Timothy, who was barking for all he was worth! Timmy was standing by the hole in the stone floor, so that the two men could not escape down there. Artful Timmy! He had waited in silence until the men had crept up the hole into the study, and were exploring it, wondering where they were – and then the dog had leapt to the hole to guard it, preventing the men from escaping.
‘Good evening, Mr. Wilton, good evening, Mr. Thomas’, said George, in a polite voice. ‘Have you come to see our tutor Mr. Roland ?’
‘So this is where he lives!’ said Mr. Wilton. ‘Was it you in the passage today ?’
‘Yes – and my cousins,’ said George. ‘Have you come to look for the papers you stole from my father?’
The two men were silent. They knew they were caught. Mr. Wilton spoke after a moment.
‘Where’s Roland?’
‘Shall we take these men to Mr. Roland, Uncle?’ asked Julian, winking at George. ‘Although it’s in the middle of the night I’m sure he would love to see them.’
‘Yes,’ said his uncle, jumping at once to what the boy meant to do. ‘Take them up. Timmy, you go too.’
The men followed Julian upstairs, Timmy close at their heels. George followed too, grinning. She handed Julian the key. He unlocked the door and the men went in, just as Julian switched on the light. Mr. Roland was
wide awake and gave an exclamation of complete amazement when he saw his friends.
Before they had time to say a word Julian locked the door again and threw the key to George.
‘A nice little bag of prisoners,’ he said. ‘We will leave old Tim outside the door to guard them. It’s impossible to get out of that window, and anyway, we’re snowed up if they could escape that way.’
Everyone went to bed again, but the children found it difficult to sleep after such an exciting time. Anne and George whispered together and so did Julian and Dick. There was such a lot to talk about.
Next day there was a surprise for everyone. The police did arrive after all! The snow did not stop them, for somewhere or other they had got skis and had come skimming along valiantly to see the prisoners! It was a great excitement for everyone.
‘We won’t take the men away, sir, till the snow has gone,’ said the Inspector. ‘We’ll just put the handcuffs on them, so that they don’t try any funny tricks. You keep the door locked too, and that dog outside. They’ll be safe there for a day or two. We’ve taken them enough food till we come back again. If they go a bit short, it will serve them right!’