Lucy-Ann wondered what Jack was doing up in the little room. Somebody ought to be with him. She went up the steps and joined Jack. The two old people stared at the red-haired freckled child, so like Jack.
Then the old woman made a crooning noise, pushed past her husband and went over to Lucy-Ann. She put her arms round her and kissed her. Then she fondled her hair. Lucy-Ann was surprised and not very pleased. Who was this funny old woman who suddenly seemed so affectionate?
She called to the others. “Dinah! Philip! Come along up! It’s two old people here with their hen!”
Soon all four children were in the little underground room. As soon as the old man heard them talking, he joined in eagerly, speaking English in a queer, clipped way.
“Ah, ah! You are English children! That is goot, very goot. Once, long time ago, I was in your so-beautiful country. I was in a big London hotel.”
“Thank goodness he speaks English,” said Philip. “I say — what are they doing here, with the treasure? Are they in league with the other men?”
“Have to find out,” said Jack. “They seem quite harmless, anyhow. But there may be others.” He turned to the old man. The old woman was still making a fuss of Lucy-Ann. Evidently they had not set eyes on children for a long time.
“Who else is here besides you?” demanded Jack.
“Just me and Elsa, my old wife, and our hen Martha,” answered the old man. “We guard all those things in the caves, till the day when they go back to their right homes. May that day come soon!”
“I don’t believe the poor old things know that the war is over long ago,” said Jack to the others, in a low voice. “I wonder who left them here to guard these things.” He turned to the old man again. “Who told you to guard these things?” he asked.
“Julius Muller,” said the old man promptly. “Ah, what a great man! How he worked against the enemy, even when they were shooting and bombing and burning in our valley! It was he who discovered that the enemy was using our mountain caves to hide away these treasures — treasures stolen from our churches and many other places.”
“Just what we thought,” said Philip, intensely interested. “Go on — tell us more.”
“Then the people fled from our valley,” said the old man. “Many were killed. The valley was empty, all save me and Elsa, my old wife. We hid with our hens and our pig, and no-one found us. Then one day Julius Muller found us and ordered us to come here, by a way he knew, and guard the treasure — not for the enemy, no — but for him and the people! He said that one day the enemy would be defeated and would flee away — and then he and the others would come back to find the treasure — but he has not come.”
“He can’t,” said Jack. “The pass is blocked. No one can get in or out of this valley now — except by aeroplane. The war has been over a long time. But bad people are after the treasure — people who have heard it is hidden here, and have come to steal it.”
The old fellow looked scared, and bewildered too, as if he only half understood what Jack was telling him. The children thought that he must have lived so long underground that his mind could not take in much news from the outer world. To him, his wife, the treasure, and perhaps his hen, were the only things that mattered.
“Do you live here, in this room?” asked Lucy-Ann. “Where do you get your food from? Does your hen like living underground?”
“There are great stores of food here,” said the old man. “There is even corn for Martha, the hen. When we first came here, we had six hens and our pig. But the pig died. And one by one the hens died. Only Martha is left. She does not lay many eggs now. Perhaps one in fourteen days.”
“Cluck,” said Martha in a proud voice. She was evidently proud of her one egg a fortnight.
Kiki repeated the cluck and then went off into a series of quacks. The hen looked surprised and alarmed. So did the two old people.
“Shut up, Kiki,” said Jack. “You’re showing off.”
“What is that bird?” asked the old man. “Is it a — how do you call it? — a parrot?”
“Yes,” said Jack. “She’s mine. Always goes with me everywhere. But I say — don’t you want to know how we came here?”
“Ah, yes, of course!” said the old man. “It is all so surprising, you understand — and my wits are dull now — I cannot take in many things at once. You must tell me about yourselves, please. Wife, what about some food for these children?”
Elsa did not understand and the old man repeated what he said in her own language. She nodded and smiled a kind toothless smile. Taking Lucy-Ann by the hand, she went over to where tins and jars stood on a rocky ledge.
“She’s very keen on Lucy-Ann,” said Philip. “She can’t fuss over her enough.”
The old man heard and understood. “We had a little granddaughter,” he said. “So like this little girl, with red hair and a sweet face. She lived with us. And one day the enemy came and took her away and we never saw her again. So now my wife sees her little lost one in your sister. You must excuse her, for maybe she really thinks her small Greta has come back.”
“Poor old things!” said Dinah. “What an awful life they must have led — lost under this mountain, guarding a treasure for Julius Muller, waiting for him for ages, not knowing what had happened outside in the world! If we hadn’t come, they might never have come out again!”
To the children’s huge delight, Elsa got them a really fine meal. She would not let poor Lucy-Ann leave her side, though, so the little girl had to trot everywhere with her. Jack told the old man a little of their own story, though it was plain that the old fellow did not really follow it all. His wits were dull, as he said, and he could not really understand all this sudden news from a world he had almost forgotten.
Kiki enjoyed herself enormously. Martha, the hen, was obviously used to keeping the old couple company and pecked about under the table, brushing against everyone’s legs. Kiki climbed down to join her, and kept up an interested, if one-sided conversation with her.
“How many times have I told you to wipe your feet?” she asked Martha. “Blow your nose. Put the kettle on.”
“Cluck,” answered Martha politely.
“Humpy dumpy,” went on Kiki, evidently anxious to teach Martha a few nursery rhymes now. “See how they run! Quack, quack, quack, quack!”
The hen looked surprised, ruffled up her feathers and stared at Kiki. “Cluck, luck, luck,” she said, and pecked up a few crumbs.
Lucy-Ann and the others giggled at this conversation. Then Lizzie also thought she would join the company, as there was plenty of food going. She ran down Philip’s sleeve and appeared on the table, much to the old woman’s alarm.
“Meet dizzy Lizzie,” said Philip politely.
“I say — they must think we’re queer visitors!” said Dinah, keeping a watchful eye on Lizzie in case she came any nearer. “Walking in like this — with a parrot and a lizard — and staying to dinner!”
“I don’t think they are bothering much,” said Philip. “Just enjoying the change. It must be nice to have company after being alone so long.”
When they had finished the meal, the old woman spoke to her husband. He turned to the children.
“My wife says, are you tired? Would you like to rest? We have a beautiful place to rest in, when we want to enjoy the sun.”
This surprised the children very much. The sun! How did these old people ever see the sun — unless they went through all the caves and passages to the hole that gave on to the mountainside?
“Where do you go to rest then?” asked Jack.
“Come,” said the old man, and led him out of the little cell-like room. Elsa took Lucy-Ann by the hand. They all followed the old man. He went along a broad passage, hollowed out of the rock.
“I should think most of these tunnels were hollowed out by underground rivers at some time or other,” said Jack. “Then they took a different course, and the tunnels dried up, and became these passages, linking all the caves together.”
The passage twisted a little and then quite suddenly came into daylight. The children found themselves on a flat ledge of rock, hung about by ferns and other plants, full in the sun. How simply delicious!