Pierre Lenoir – oh you mean old Sooty,’ said Julian. ‘Yes – he’s in Dick’s form, sir. Mad as a hatter.’
‘Sooty! Now why do you call him that?’ said Uncle Quentin. ‘It seems a silly name for a boy.’
‘If you saw him you wouldn’t think so,’ said Dick, with a laugh. ‘He’s awfully dark! Hair as black as soot, eyes like bits of coal, eyebrows that look as if they’ve been put in with charcoal. And his name means “The black one,” doesn’t it? Le-noir – that’s French for black.’
‘Yes. Quite true. But what a name to give anyone -Sooty ‘ said Uncle Quentin. ‘Well, I’ve been having quite a lot of correspondence with this boy’s father. He and I are interested in the same scientific matters. In fact, I’ve asked him whether he wouldn’t like to come and stay with me a few days – and bring his boy, Pierre.’
‘Oh really!’ said Dick, looking quite pleased. ‘Well, it wouldn’t be bad sport to have old Sooty here, Uncle. But he’s quite mad. He never does as he’s told, he climbs like a monkey, and he can be awfully cheeky. I don’t know if you’d like him much.’
Uncle Quentin looked sorry he had asked Sooty after he had heard what Dick had to say. He didn’t like cheeky boys. Nor did he like mad ones.
‘H’m,’ he said, putting the letter away. ‘I wish I’d asked you about the boy first, before suggesting to his father that he might bring him with him. But perhaps I can prevent him coming.’
‘No, don’t, Father,’ said George, who rather likecl the sound of Sooty Lenoir. ‘Let’s have him. He could come out with us and liven things up!’
‘We’ll see,’ said her father, who had already made up his mind on no account to have the boy at Kirrin Cottage,
if he was mad, climbed everywhere, and was cheeky. George was enough of a handful without a madcap of a boy egging her on!
Much to the children’s relief Uncle Quentin retired to read by himself about eight o’clock. Aunt Fanny looked at the clock.
‘Time for Anne to go to bed,’ she said. ‘And you too, George.’
‘Just one good game of Slap-Down Patience, all of us playing it together, Mother!’ said George. ‘Come on -you play it too. It’s our first evening at home. Anyway, I shan’t sleep for ages, with this gale howling round! Come on, Mother-one good game, then we’ll go to bed. Julian’s been yawning like anything already!’
Chapter Two
A SHOCK IN THE NIGHT
IT was nice to climb up the steep stairs to their familiar bedrooms that night. All the children were yawning widely. Their long train journey had tired them.
‘If only this awful wind would stop!’ said Anne, pulling the curtain aside and looking out into the night. ‘There’s a little moon, George. It keeps bobbing out between the scurrying clouds.’
‘Let it bob!’ said George, scrambling into bed. I’m jolly cold. Hurry, Anne, or you’ll catch a chill at that window.’
‘Don’t the waves make a noise?’ said Anne, still at the window. ‘And the gale in the old ash-tree is making a whistling, howling sound, and bending it right over.’
‘Timmy, hurry up and get on my bed,’ commanded George, screwing up her cold toes. ‘That’s one good thing about being at home, Anne. I can have Timmy on my bed! He’s far better than a hot water bottle.’
‘You’re not supposed to have him on your bed at home, any more than you’re supposed to at school,’ said Anne, curling up in bed. ‘Aunt Fanny thinks he sleeps in his basket over there.’
‘Well, I can’t stop him coming on my bed at night, can I, if he doesn’t want to sleep in his basket?’ said George. ‘That’s right, Timmy darling. Make my feet warm. Where’s your nose? Let me pat it. Good-night, Tim. Good-night, Anne.’
‘Good-night,’ said Anne, sleepily. ‘I hope that Sooty boy comes, don’t you? He does sound fun.’
Yes. And anyway father would stay in with Mr. Lenoir, the boy’s father, and not come out with us,’ said George. ‘Father doesn’t mean to, but he does spoil things somehow.’
‘He’s not very good at laughing,’ said Anne. ‘He’s too serious.’
A loud bang made both girls jump. ‘That’s the bathroom door!’ said George, with a groan. ‘One of the boys must have left it open. That’s the sort of noise that drives Father mad! There it goes again!’
‘Well, let Julian or Dick shut it,’ said Anne, who was now beginning to feel nice and warm. But Julian and Dick were thinking that George or Anne might shut it, so nobody got out of bed to see to the banging door.
Very soon Uncle Quentin’s voice roared up the stairs, louder than the gale.
‘Shut that door, one of you! How can I work with that noise going on!’
All four children jumped out of bed like a shot. Timmy leapt off George’s bed. Everyone fell over him as they rushed to the bathroom door. There was a lot of giggling and scuffling. Then Uncle Quentin’s footsteps were heard on the stairs and the five fled silently to their looms.
The gale still roared. Uncle Quentin and Aunt Fanny came up to bed. The bedroom door flew out of Uncle Quentin’s hand and slammed itself shut so violently that a vase leapt off a nearby shelf.
Uncle Quentin leapt too, startled. ‘This wretched gale!’ he said, fiercely. ‘Never known one like it all the time we’ve been here. If it gets much worse the fishermen’s boats will be smashed up, even though’ they’ve pulled them as high up the beach as possible.’
‘It will blow itself out soon, dear,’ said Aunt Fanny,
soothingly. ‘Probably by the time morning comes it will be quite calm.’
But she was wrong. The gale did not blow itself out that night. Instead it raged round the house even more fiercely, shrieking and howling like a live thing. Nobody could sleep. Timmy kept up a continuous low growling, for he did not like the shakes and rattles and howls.
Towards dawn the wind seemed in a fury. Anne thought it sounded as if it was in a horrible temper, out to do all the harm it could. She lay and trembled, half-frightened.
Suddenly there was a strange noise. It was a loud and woeful groaning and creaking, like someone in great pain. The two girls sat up, terrified. What could it be?
The boys heard it too. Julian leapt out of bed and ran to the window. Outside stood the old ash tree, tall and black in the fitful moonlight. It was gradually bending over!
‘It’s the ash! It’s falling!’ yelled Julian, almost startling Dick out of his wits. ‘It’s falling, I tell you. It’ll crash on the house! Quick, warn the girls!’
Shouting at the top of his voice, Julian raced out of his door on to the landing. ‘Uncle! Aunt! George and Anne! Come downstairs quickly! The ash tree is falling!’
George jumped out of bed, snatched at her dressing-gown, and raced to the door, yelling to Anne. The little girl was soon with her. Timmy ran in front. At the door of Aunt Fanny’s bedroom Uncle Quentin appeared, tall and amazed, wrapping his dressing-gown round him.
‘What’s all this noise? Julian, what’s happening?’
‘Aunt Fanny! Come downstairs – the ash tree is falling! Listen to its terrible groans and creaks!’ yelled Julian, almost beside himself with impatience. ‘It’ll smash
in the room and the bedrooms! Listen, here it comes!’
Everyone fled downstairs as, with an appalling wail, the great ash tree hauled up its roots and fell heavily on to Kirrin Cottage. There was a terrible crash, and the sound of tiles slipping to the ground everywhere.
‘Oh dear!’ said poor Aunt Fanny, covering her eyes. ‘I knew something would happen! Quentin, we ought to have had that ash tree topped. I knew it would fall in a great gale like this. What has it done to the roof?’
After the great crash there had come other smaller noises, sounds of things falling, thuds and little smashing noises. The children could not imagine what was happening. Timmy was thoroughly angry, and barked loudly. Uncle Quentin slapped his hand angrily on the table, and made everyone jump.
‘Stop that dog barking! I’ll turn him out!’ But nothing would stop Timmy barking or growling that night, and George at last pushed him into the warm kitchen, and shut the door on him.
‘I feel like barking or growling myself,’ said Anne, who knew exactly what Timmy felt like. ‘Julian, has the tree broken in the roof?’
Uncle Quentin took a powerful torch and went carefully up the stairs to the landing to see what damage had been done. He came down looking rather pale.
‘The tree has crashed through the attic, smashed the roof in, and wrecked the girls’ bedroom,’ he said. ‘A big branch has penetrated the boys’ room too, but not badly, But the girls’ room is ruined! They would have been killed if they had been in their beds.’