Jack got his camera ready. He looked out his rolls of films. He debated whether or not to take one of his bird books with him, and then decided not to because his suitcase was already very heavy.
“Everything’s done now, Aunt Allie,” said Lucy-Ann, sitting on her suitcase to make it shut. “I wish tomorrow would hurry up and come. Fancy flying in the dark in a plane! I never in my life thought I would do that. I hope it’s a long long way to Bill’s home.”
“It is,” said Mrs. Mannering. “Now let me see — I’d better pack you sandwiches and cake to take with you for the journey, because you are sure to be hungry if you stay up all night. I’ll do those tomorrow. Have you found a basket for Kiki, Jack? And what about taking some food for her? There’s a new packet of sunflower seeds come today. Put it into your suitcase.”
Jack found a good basket for Kiki, with a lid that closed down. He put it on the table. Kiki flew over to it at once in curiosity. She hopped inside and looked out comically.
“Clever bird,” said Jack. “You know it’s your travelling basket, don’t you?”
“God save the King!” said Kiki, and began to rub her curved beak up and down the edge of the basket.
“Don’t do that,” said Jack. “You’ll break it. Stop it, Kiki!”
Kiki climbed out and flew to Jack’s shoulder. She rubbed her beak against his hair.
“Ding-dong bell,” she murmured. “Polly’s in the well. Ding-dong bell.”
“Polly’s in the basket, you mean,” said Lucy-Ann. “Kiki, you’re going in an aeroplane. Think of that!”
The day went slowly — far too slowly for the children. The next day was even slower. By the time that tea-time came the children felt that night would never never come.
But when supper-time came they felt more cheerful. The car was coming at a quarter-past ten to take them to the aerodrome. Then into the plane they would get with Bill and off they would go into the darkness. Somehow it seemed far more thrilling to fly through the dark night than through the sunshiny day.
Ten o’clock struck. The suitcases and rugs were taken down to the hall. Jack’s camera was there too, and a large packet of sandwiches and cakes. Jack wore his field-glasses on a strap over his shoulder. Kiki’s basket was in the hall too, but Kiki was still free. She was not going into the basket till the last moment.
“Here’s the car!” cried Philip, his sharp ears hearing the engine purring up to the door. “Come along! Goodbye, Mother! Look after yourself well till we come back!”
“Good-bye, Aunt Allie,” said Jack, giving her a hug. “We’ll send you a postcard. Hi, Kiki, come on — it’s time you got into your basket.”
Kiki made a bit of a fuss going in. She was excited because of the excitement of the four children. It took quite a time to get her into the basket and shut the lid down. She began to shout at the top of her voice.
“Poor Polly, poor Polly, down the well, down the well, up the hill, in the corner!”
“She’s mixing up Ding-dong bell and Jack and Jill and Jack Horner,” said Lucy-Ann with a giggle. “Be quiet, Kiki! You ought to be glad you’re coming with us, even if you have to travel in a shut basket!”
All the good-byes were said. “I don’t like letting you go, somehow,” said Mrs. Mannering. “It’s silly of me — but I don’t. I’ve got an uncomfortable feeling — as if you’re going off into another dreadful adventure.”
“We promise not to,” said Philip earnestly. “Don’t you worry, Mother. We’ll be all right, and you’ll see us turning up, like bad pennies, in a few days’ time. Anyway, Bill’s on the phone and you can always ring him.”
The taxi revved up its engine. It moved off down the drive, with Mrs. Mannering left standing at the door, waving. The children waved back, excited. They were really off.
“Now for the aerodrome!” said Philip, pleased. “I thought tonight would never come. What’s the time? Oh, we’re early. Good. Got the passes, Jack?”
“Dinah’s got them in her bag,” said Jack. Dinah fished them out. They were passes that would take them into the aerodrome, and up to Bill himself.
It was a good way to the aerodrome. The night was very dark. Clouds covered the sky, and a few drops of rain spattered the wind-screen.
“Here’s the aerodrome at last!” cried Jack, seeing the lights through the window. “Look at the flare-path — all lit up. Isn’t it fine? Don’t the aeroplanes look enormous in the shadows at each side? Here, Dinah — where are the passes? We’ve got to show them now.”
They were shown to the man at the entrance to the aerodrome and allowed in.
“I’ll set you down here and you can speak to your friend,” said the taxi-man. “Then I’ll run on to his aeroplane and dump the luggage beside it for you. So long!”
“Now we’ll find Bill,” said Philip as the car drove off. “There he is, look! Hi, Bill, we’re here!”
Chapter 3
A GRAVE MISTAKE
BILL was talking to three or four men very earnestly. He waved to the children, a tall, burly shadow in the night.
“Hallo, kids! I’m busy for a few minutes. You cut along to the aeroplane and wait for me. Stow your cases in at the back where mine is. I’ll be about ten minutes or so.”
“Right, Bill,” said Jack, and the four of them moved off to where the taxi-man had put their cases, beside an aeroplane not very far away.
It was dark where the aeroplane stood, but the children could see enough to pick up their cases. They climbed up the ladder and into the cabin.
The inside of the plane was in darkness. The children had no idea how to put the lights on. They felt their way to the back of the plane and put down their things. They threw their rugs there too. Jack put Kiki’s basket down carefully. Kiki had been most indignant all the way.
“Humpy dumpy bumpy,” she said. “Pop goes the weasel!”
There was a large crate in the middle of the plane. The children wondered what was in it. Was it empty or full? It must be something Bill was taking back with him.
“It’s blocking up all the inside,” said Jack. “We can’t sit down properly with that thing there. Let’s squat down on our rugs at the back. We’ll be quite comfortable there. Perhaps Bill will shift the crate a bit when he comes, and tell us where he wants us to sit.”
So they sat down patiently on their rugs and waited. The noise of the plane’s engines went on and on, and it was impossible to hear anything else, though once Jack thought he could hear somebody shouting.
He went to the door and looked out. But all was darkness, and Bill was nowhere to be seen. What a time he was!
He went back to his place, yawning. Lucy-Ann was half asleep. “I wish Bill would come,” said Philip. “I shall go to sleep if he doesn’t.”
Then a lot of things happened very quickly indeed. Over and above the sound of the engine came the sound of shots — gun-shots. That made the children sit up in a hurry.
Then another shot sounded — and then there came the noise of someone clambering hurriedly up the steps into the plane, and a man flung himself down in the control seat. Another followed, panting, hardly to be seen in the darkness. The children sat as if they were frozen. What in the world was happening? Was one of the men Bill? Who was the other — and what was the hurry? The first man took the controls of the plane, and to the children’s amazement it began to taxi forwards. They were off! But why hadn’t Bill spoken to them? Why hadn’t he at least looked round to see that they were safely inside?
“Keep quiet,” said Jack to the others. “If Bill doesn’t want to speak to us, there’s a reason. Maybe he doesn’t want the other fellow to know we’re here. Keep quiet.”
The plane rose into the air, its propellers making a great whirring noise. It headed swiftly into the wind.
The men shouted to one another, but the children could not make out what they were saying because the noise of the engine was so loud. They sat quiet and still, hidden from view by the big crate standing in the middle of the plane.
Bill said nothing to them at all. He didn’t call out to know if they were there. He didn’t send his companion along to see if they were all right. He simply took no notice of them at all. It was very queer and Lucy-Ann didn’t like it a bit.