“Field-glasses — note-books — pencils — my camera — and a rope,” said Jack, trying to think of everything. Lucy-Ann looked astonished.
“A rope?” she said. “Why a rope?”
“We might want to go cliff-climbing if we want to examine nesting-places there,” said Jack.
“Well, you can go cliff-climbing if you like. I shan’t!” said Lucy-Ann, with a shiver. “I’d hate to climb down steep cliffs with just a rope round me and hardly anything to put my feet on.”
“Kiki’s taken your pencil,” said Dinah. “Kiki, don’t be such a nuisance. We shan’t take you to see the puffins if you behave like this.”
“Huffin and puffin, puffin and huffin, muffin and puffin, muffins and crumpets,” pronounced Kiki, and cracked her beak in delight at having said something new. “Huffin and puff — ”
“Oh stop huffing and puffing,” called Dinah.
“God save the King,” said Kiki, and stood up very straight.
“Goodness knows what the birds up there will think of you,” said Lucy-Ann. “Jack, shall we put her into a basket to take her with us on the train? You know how she will keep shouting ‘Guard, guard’ and pretending to blow a whistle, and then telling everyone to wipe their feet.”
“She can go on my shoulder,” said Jack. “We shall be sleeping on the train, in beds or berths, and she’ll be quite all right. Stop cracking your beak, Kiki. It’s not clever to keep on making a nuisance of yourself.”
“Naughty Polly!” said Kiki. “Sing Polly-wolly-oodle-all the-day!”
Philip threw a cushion at her and she retired to the top of the curtains and sulked. The children went on discussing their coming holiday.
“Fancy having the luck to be with Bill after all!” said Jack. “Much better than Dr. Johns. I wonder if he’ll have a boat and go exploring round. Golly, I’m going to enjoy the next week or two. We might even see a Great Auk!”
“You and your Great Auks!” said Philip. “You know quite well they’re extinct. Don’t start all that again, Jack. We might find Little Auks up there, though — and razorbills — and thousands of guillemots on the cliffs.”
The next day came at last and then dragged on till the evening. Mrs. Mannering slept most of the time and Miss Tremayne would not let them go in and wake her to say good-bye.
“Better not,” she said. “I’ll say good-bye for you. Mind you write to her from wherever you’re going. Is that the taxi I hear now? I’ll come and see you off.”
It was the taxi. They bundled in with all their luggage. Now to London — to meet Dr. Walker — and to travel hundreds of miles to the north, to wild places where few people had ever been. No adventures this time, but just a glorious, carefree holiday with old Bill.
“All aboard!” said Kiki, in a deep voice that made the taxi-driver jump. “One — two — three — OFF!”
Chapter 6
TRAVELLING FAR
BILL had told the children exactly where to wait for him at Euston Station, so, each carrying a bag and a mackintosh, they went to the spot.
They stood there waiting. “Suppose,” said Philip, in a mysterious voice, “just suppose that one of the gang that Bill is after, knew Bill was going to meet us here — and came up and told us he was Bill — and took us all off with him, so that we were never heard of again!”
Poor Lucy-Ann stared at him in the greatest alarm. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Oh Philip — do you think that might happen? Gracious, I hope to goodness we recognise Bill when we see him. I shall be scared stiff of going with him if we don’t.”
A very fat man approached them, smiling. He was big all over, big head, big body, big feet — and big teeth that showed when he smiled. Lucy-Ann felt her heart sink. This couldn’t be Bill! Nobody could make himself as big as that, if he wasn’t fat to begin with. She clutched Philip’s hand. Was it one of the gang?
“Little girl,” said the big man to Lucy-Ann, “you’ve dropped your mackintosh behind you. You’ll lose it if you don’t pick it up.”
Lucy-Ann had gone pale when he first began to speak. Then she looked round and saw her mack on the ground. She picked it up. Then, scarlet in the face, she stammered out a few words of thanks.
The big man smiled again, showing all his fine teeth. “Don’t look so scared,” he said. “I shan’t eat you!”
“He looks just as if he might,” thought Lucy-Ann, retreating behind Jack.
“Pop goes the weasel,” said Kiki, in a polite conversational tone. “Pop, pop, pop!”
“What a remarkably clever bird!” said the big man, and put out his hand to pat Kiki. She gave him a vicious nip with her beak, and then whistled like an engine.
The big man’s smile vanished and he scowled. “Dangerous bird, that,” he said, and disappeared into the crowd. The children were relieved. They didn’t think, of course, that he was one of the gang — that had only been Philip’s make-up — but they were worried in case he kept them talking, and prevented Bill from coming up and fetching them.
They stood there, under the clock, looking all round for Bill. They couldn’t see anyone even remotely resembling him. Then a rather shambling, round-shouldered man came up, wearing thick glasses through which his eyes peered sharply.
He wore a thick long coat, had field-glasses slung across his back, and a curious black checked cap. He also had a black beard. But he spoke in Bill’s voice.
“Good evening, children. I am glad to see you are punctual. Now at last we start on our little expedition.”
Lucy-Ann beamed. That was Bill’s nice warm voice all right, in spite of the beard and the queer get-up. She was just about to fling herself on him, crying “Oh Bill, it’s good to see you,” when Jack, feeling sure that Lucy-Ann was going to do something silly like that, pushed her away and held out his hand politely.
“Good evening, Dr. Walker. How are you?”
The others took their cue from Jack, and anyone looking on would have thought that here were four children greeting a tutor or a guardian who was going to take them on a journey somewhere.
“Come this way,” said Dr. Walker. “I have a porter for your things. Hey, porter, put these bags on your barrow, will you, and find our reservations in the ten o’clock train. Thank you.”
It wasn’t long before they were all safely on the night train. The children were thrilled with their little “bedrooms.” Lucy-Ann liked the way everything could fold down or fold back, or be somehow pushed out of the way.
“Now, you must sleep all night,” said Bill, his eyes smiling at them from behind his thick glasses. “Dr. Walker will see that you are awake in time for breakfast.”
“How do we get to the place we’re going to, and where exactly is it?” asked Jack.
“Well, we get there by this train and another, and then by motor-boat,” said Bill. The children looked thrilled. They loved travelling.
“I’ve got a map here,” said Bill, making sure that the door was shut. “It’s a map of all the many little islands dotted off the north-west coast of Scotland — hundreds of them. Some are too small to map. I don’t expect anyone has ever visited all of them — only the birds live there. I thought we’d make one of them our headquarters, and then cruise around a bit, taking photographs, and watching the birds in their daily life.”
The eyes of the two boys gleamed. What a glorious thing to do! They visualised days of sunshine on the water, chugging to and from tiny islands inhabited by half-tame birds, picnicking hungrily in the breeze, sitting on rocks with their feet dangling in the clear water. Their hearts lifted in happiness at the thought.
“What I should really like,” said Philip, “would be a tame puffin or two. I’ve never seen a live puffin — only a stuffed one — but they look real characters.”
“I suppose you would teach them to sit up and beg,” said Bill, amused.
“Huffin and puffin,” announced Kiki. “God save the King!”
Nobody took any notice. They were all too much absorbed in thinking of their unusual holiday.
“I shall remain behind there, once you have gone back,” said Bill. “It’ll be a bit lonely without you all, but no doubt you will leave me your tame puffins for company.”
“I shall hate leaving you,” said Lucy-Ann. “Will you have to be there all alone for long, Bill?”
“A goodish time, I expect,” said Bill. “Long enough for my enemies to forget about me, or to think I’m dead and gone.”