‘Almost half past ten,’ said Julian, looking at his watch, which had luminous hands. ‘Now then, Uncle Quentin, what about it?’ Almost as if his uncle was answering him, a light shone out in the glass top of the tower. It was a clear, small light, like the light of a lantern.
Julian began to count. ‘One flash.’ There was a pause. ‘Two flashes.’ ‘Another pause. ‘Three, four, five six!’ The flashes stopped. Julian snuggled down into bed. ‘Well, that’s that. Uncle Quentin’s all right. I say, it’s weird to think of him climbing that spiral stairway right to the top of the tower, in, the dark of night, isn’t it? Just to mess about with those wires.’ ‘Mmmmm,’ said Dick; sleepily. ‘I rather he did it, than I! You can be a scientist if you like, Ju — but I don’t want — to climb towers in the dead of night on a lonely island. I’d like Timmy there, at least” Someone knocked on their door and it opened. Julian sat up at once. It was Aunt Fanny.
‘Oh Julian dear – did you see the flashes? I forgot to count them. Were there six?’ ‘Oh yes, Aunt Fanny! I’d have rushed down to tell you if anything was wrong.. Uncle’s all right. Don’t you worry!’ ‘I wish I’d told him to do an extra flash to tell me if he’s had some of that nice soup,’ said his aunt. ‘Well, good night, Julian. Sleep well!”
Chapter Eight
DOWN IN THE QUARRY
The next day dawned bright and sunny. The four tore down to breakfast, full of high spirits. ‘Can we bathe? Aunt Fanny, it’s really warm enough! Oh do say we can!’ ‘Of course not! Whoever heard of bathing in April!’ said Aunt Fanny. ‘Why, the sea is terribly cold. Do you want to be in bed for the rest of the holiday with a chill?’ ‘Well, let’s go for a walk on the moors at the back of Kirrin Cottage,’ said George. ‘Timmy would love that. Wouldn’t you, Tim?’ ‘Woof,’ said Timmy, thumping his tail hard on the ground.
‘Take your lunch with you if you like,’ said her mother. ‘I’ll pack some for you.’ ‘You’ll be glad to be rid of us for a little while, I expect, Aunt Fanny,’ said Dick, with a grin. ‘I know what we’ll do. We’ll go to the old quarry and look for prehistoric weapons! We’ve got a jolly good museum at school, and I’d like to take back some stone arrowheads or something like that.’ They all liked hunting for things. It would be fun to go to the old quarry, and it would be lovely and warm in the hollow there. ‘ ‘I hope we shan’t find a poor dead sheep there, as we once did,’ said Anne, with a shudder. ‘Poor thing! It must have fallen down and baa-ed for help for ages.
‘Of course we shan’t,’ said Julian. ‘We shall find stacks of primroses and violets though, growing down the sides of the quarry.’ They are always early there because it’s sheltered from every wind.’ ‘I should love to have bunches of primroses,’ said his aunt. ‘Nice big ones! Enough to put all over the house.’ ‘Well, while the boys are looking for arrowheads we’ll look for primroses,’ said Anne, pleased. ‘I like picking flowers.’ ‘And Timmy, of course, will hunt for rabbits, and will hope to bring home enough for you to decorate the larder from top to bottom,’ said Dick, solemnly. Timmy looked thrilled and gave an excited little woof.
They waited for Uncle Quentin’s signal at half past ten. It came – six flashes of a mirror in the sun. The flashes were quite blinding.
‘Nice little bit of heliographing!’ said Dick. ‘Good morning and good-bye, Uncle! We’ll watch for you tonight. Now, everybody ready?’ ‘Yes! Come’ on, Tim! Who’s got the sandwiches? I say, isn’t the sun hot!’ Off they all went. They had on coats and their rubber boots, but no hats, and nobody thought of taking a macintosh. It was going to be a really lovely day! The quarry was not really very far – only about a quarter of a mile. The children went for a walk beforehand, for Timmy’s sake. Then they made for the quarry.
It was a queer place. At some time or other it had been deeply quarried for stone, and then left to itself. Now the sides were covered with small bushe1s and grass and plants of all kinds. In the sandy places heather grew.
The sides were very steep, and as few people came there, there were no paths to follow. It was like a huge rough bowl, irregular in places, and full of colour now where primroses opened their pale petals to the sky. Violets grew there by the thousand, both white and purple. ‘Cowslips were opening too, the earliest anywhere.
‘Oh, it’s lovely!’ said Anne, stopping at the top and looking down. ‘Simply super! I never in my life saw so many primroses – nor such huge ones!’ ‘Be careful how you go, Anne,’ said Julian. ‘These sides are very steep. If you lose your footing you’ll roll’ right down to the bottom – and find yourself with a broken arm or leg!’ ‘I’ll be careful,’ said Anne. ‘I’ll throw my basket down to the bottom, so that I can have two hands to cling to bushes with, if I want to. I shall be able to fill that basket cramful of primroses and violets!’ She flung the basket down, and it bounced all the way to the bottom of the quarry. The children climbed down to where they wanted to go – the girls to a great patch of big primroses, the boys to a place where they thought they might find stone weapons.
‘Hallo!’ said a voice, suddenly, from much lower down. The four stopped in surprise, and Timmy growled.
‘Why – it’s you!’ said George, recognizing the boy they had met the day before.
‘Yes. I don’t know if you know my name. It’s Martin Curton,’ said the boy’.
Julian told him their names too. ‘We’ve come to picnic here,’ he said. ‘And to see if we can find stone weapons. What have you come for?’ ‘Oh — to see if I can find stone weapons too,’ said the ‘Have you found any?’ asked George.
‘No. Not yet.’ ‘Well, you won’t find any just there,’ said Dick. ‘Not in heather! You want to come over here, where the ground is bare and gravelly.’ Dick was trying to be friendly, to make up for the day before. Martin came over and began to scrape about with the boys. They had trowels with them, but he had only his hands.
‘Isn’t it hot down here?’ called Anne. ‘I’m going to take off my coat.’ Timmy had his head and shoulders down a rabbit hole. He was scraping violently, sending up heaps of soil behind him in a shower.
‘Don’t go near Timmy unless you want to be buried in earth!’ said Dick. ‘Hey, Timmy – is a rabbit really worth all that hard work?’ Apparently it was, for Timmy, panting loudly, went on digging for all he was worth. A stone flew high in the air and hit Julian. He rubbed his cheek. Then he looked at the stone that lay beside him. He gave a shout. ‘Look at this – a jolly fine arrowhead! Thanks, Timmy, old fellow. Very good of you to go digging for me. What about a hammer-head next?’ The others came to see the stone arrowhead. Anne thought she would never have known what it was — but Julian and Dick exclaimed over it in admiration.
‘Jolly good specimen,’ said Dick. ‘See how it’s been shaped, George? To think that this was used thousands of years ago to kill the enemies of a cave-man! Martin did not say much. He just looked at the arrowhead, which certainly was a very fine unspoilt specimen, and then turned away. Dick thought he was a queer fellow. A bit dull and boring. He wondered if they ought to ask him to their picnic. He didn’t want to in the least.
But George did! ‘Are you having a picnic here too?’ she asked. Martin shook his head.
‘No. I’ve not brought any sandwiches.’ ‘Well, we’ve plenty. Stay and have some with us when we eat them,’ said George, generously.
‘Thanks. It’s very nice of you,’ said the boy. ‘And will you come and see my television set this afternoon in return! I’d like you to.’ ‘Yes, we will,’ said George. ‘It would be something to do! Oh Anne — just look at those violets! I’ve never seen such big white ones’ before. Won’t Mother be pleased?’ The boys went deeper down, scraping about with their trowels in any likely place. They came to where a shelf of stone projected out a good way. It would be a nice place to have their lunch. The stone would be warm to sit on, and was flat enough to take, ginger-beer bottles and cups in safety.