Very silently the two made their way back to the gap in the hedge that Philip knew so well. Neither of them trod on the gravel, in case the slight crunch might warn any hidden watcher.
They squeezed through the gap slowly and carefully. Now they were in Philip’s own garden. Taking Bill by the arm he led him slowly over the dark lawn, under the trees, towards the house. There was no light in it anywhere now. Mrs. Mannering had gone to bed.
The back door was still unlocked. Philip pushed it open, and the two of them went in. “Don’t put on the light,” whispered Bill. “We don’t want anyone to know that we’re awake here. I’ll lock this door.”
They went cautiously upstairs. One of the stairs creaked loudly, and Jack, who was waiting in the bedroom, shot to the door. Luckily he didn’t switch the light on.
“It’s all right — it’s only me,” whispered Philip. “And I’ve got old Bill.”
“Good egg!” said Jack in delight, and dragged them into his room. Bill gave his hand a hearty shake. He was very fond of the whole family.
“I must rinse my mouth out,” said Philip. “It’s full of earth still. I daren’t do any spitting out in the garden, because of the noise. Ugh! It’s horrible!”
“Poor Jack!” said Bill remorsefully. “I didn’t know it was you, old fellow. I thought it was somebody lying in wait for me, and I meant to get him, before he got me!”
“You did it jolly well,” said Philip, rinsing his mouth out. “Now where’s my tooth-paste? I really must clean my teeth! Oh, blow!”
His hand, seeking for his tooth-paste in the dark, had knocked over a glass. It fell into the basin and smashed. It made a tremendous noise in the silent night.
“Go and warn the girls not to put their light on, if this has waked them,” said Bill urgently to Jack. “Quick! And see if it has waked Aunt Allie. If it has, warn her too.”
Lucy-Ann was awake, and Jack just managed to stop her switching on the light. His mother did not stir. Her room was further away and she had not heard the sound of breaking glass. Lucy-Ann was astonished to hear Jack’s urgent voice.
“What’s up?” she asked. “Anything gone wrong? Are you or Philip ill?”
“Of course not,” said Jack impatiently. “Get your dressing-gown on, and wake Dinah. Bill’s here! But we’re not to put on any lights, see?”
Something fluttered by his head with a low squawk. “Oh, Kiki! I wondered where you were,” said Jack. “What made you sleep in the girls’ room tonight? Come along and see Bill!”
Lucy-Ann awoke an astonished Dinah. The two girls put on their dressing-gowns and went to the boys’ room. Kiki was already there, nibbling Bill’s ear in delight, making soft noises in his ear.
“Hallo! Hallo!” said Bill, when the girls crept softly into the room. “Which is which? I can only feel you. Ah, this must be Lucy-Ann — I can smell your freckles!”
“You can’t smell freckles,” said Lucy-Ann, giggling. “But you’re right, it is me, all the same. Oh, Bill, where have you been so long? You didn’t answer any of our letters at all.”
“I know,” said Bill. “You see — I was on a peculiar job — hunting down a gang of rogues — and then, before I knew what was happening, they got wind of what I was doing — and began to hunt me down! So I had to go into hiding, and keep dark.”
“Why — would they have kidnapped you or something, Bill?” asked Lucy-Ann, scared.
“Oh, there’s no knowing what they would have done to me,” said Bill airily. “I should certainly have disappeared for good. But here I am, as you see.”
“So that’s what that man at the front gate was there for — hoping to get you,” said Philip. “Why have you come to see us now, Bill? Do you want us to do anything?”
“Well,” said Bill, “I’ve got to disappear for some time, and I wanted to see your mother particularly, to give her a few things to keep for me — just in case — well, just in case I didn’t turn up again. I’m what is called a ‘marked man’ now, as far as this particular gang is concerned. I know too much about them for their own comfort.”
“Oh, Bill — but where are you going to disappear to?” asked Lucy-Ann forlornly. “I don’t like you to disappear into the blue. Can’t you tell us?”
“Oh — I’ll probably lead the simple life somewhere in the wilds,” said Bill. “Till these fellows have given up hunting for me, or get themselves caught. I don’t want to disappear — don’t think that! I’m not afraid of any of them, but my chiefs can’t afford to let anyone get hold of me. So I’ve got to vanish completely for a time — and not even get into touch with you or my family.”
There was a silence. It wasn’t nice to hear all this, told in a low voice in the darkness of midnight. Lucy-Ann groped for Bill’s hand. He squeezed her fingers.
“Cheer up! You’ll hear from me again some day — next year, or the year after. I shall take some kind of disguise — become a miner somewhere in the wilds of Alaska — or — or a lonely ornithologist on some desolate island — or . . .”
Jack gave a gasp. Something clicked in his mind as a really brilliant idea slid into place there.
“Bill! Oh, Bill! I’ve thought of something grand!”
“Sh! Not so loud!” said Bill. “And just take Kiki on your shoulder now, will you, before she nibbles away the whole of my left ear.”
“Listen, Bill,” said Jack urgently. “I’ve thought of something. We had a great disappointment today — I’ll tell you about it first.”
“Go on, then,” said Bill, thankful that Kiki was no longer on his shoulder.
“I don’t expect you know, but we’ve all had measles pretty badly,” said Jack. “That’s why we’re not back at school. Well, the doctor said we ought to go away for a change, and Aunt Allie decided we could go on a bird-watching expedition, with Dr. Johns and his party, to some lonely coasts and islands off the north of Britain — you know, places that only birds live on, and only bird-lovers visit.”
“I know,” said Bill, listening intently.
“Well, Dr. Johns got hurt in an accident today,” said Jack. “So we can’t go because there is nobody to take us. But — why can’t you take us — disguised as some bird-man or other? — then we’d have a perfectly glorious holiday, you’d be able to get off into the unknown without anyone knowing — and we could leave you behind there when we come back — quite safe!”
There was a silence. All the children waited breathlessly for Bill’s answer. Even Kiki seemed to be listening anxiously.
“I don’t know,” said Bill at last. “It’s too much like using you as a smoke-screen — and if my enemies saw through the smoke — well, things wouldn’t be too good for you or for me either. I don’t think it’s possible.”
The mere thought of Bill’s turning the wonderful idea down made the children more enthusiastic and urgent about it. They each had a few words to contribute.
“We were so disappointed not to go — and now this really does seem a way — and after all, it would only be for about two weeks, as far as we’re concerned. We’d be going back to school then.”
“You’re awfully good at disguises. You could easily look like an ornithologist — sort of earnest, and always peering into the distance for birds, and with field-glasses over your shoulder. . . .”
“Nobody could possibly know. We’d all be absolutely safe up in the northern seas, so wild and desolate, with you. Think of May up there — the sea so blue, the birds all soaring and gliding, the sea-pinks out all over the place. . . .”
“You’d be safe, Bill — no one surely would ever dream of hunting for you in a place like that. And oh, we do so want a holiday like that. We’ve felt mouldy after measles.”
“Not so loud,” whispered Bill. “I’ll have to talk things over with your mother first — even if I think it’s all right myself. It’s a bold idea — and I don’t think it would occur to anyone for one moment that I would go off openly like that. And I must say that a holiday with you four — and Kiki too, of course — is just what I’m needing at the moment.”
“Oh, Bill — I believe you’ll do it!” said Lucy-Ann, hugging him with ecstasy. “What a lovely ending to a horrid day!”