‘You’re mad!’ said Uncle Quentin, in disgust.
Mr. Barling was a little mad. He had always felt a great satisfaction in being a successful smuggler in days when smuggling was almost at an end. He loved the thrill of knowing that his little ships were creeping in the mist towards the treacherous marshes. He liked to know that men were making their way over a small and narrow path over the misty marsh to the appointed meeting-place, bringing smuggled goods.
‘You should have lived a hundred years or more ago!’ said Sooty, also feeling that Mr. Barling was a little mad. ‘You don’t belong to nowadays.’
Mr. Barling turned on Sooty, his eyes gleaming dangerously in the light of the lantern.
‘Another word from you and I’ll drop you in the marshes!’ he said. Sooty felt a shiver go down his back. He suddenly knew that Mr. Barling really did mean what he said. He was a dangerous man. Uncle Quentin sensed it too. He looked at Mr. Barling warily.
‘How do I come into this?’ he asked. ‘Why have you kidnapped me?’
‘I know that Mr. Lenoir is going to buy your plans from you,’ said Mr. Barling. ‘I know he is going to drain the marsh by using your very excellent ideas. You see, I know all about them! I know, too, that Mr. Lenoir hopes to make a lot of money by selling the land once it is drained. It is all his, that misty marsh – and no use to anyone now, except to me! But that marsh is not going to be drained – I am going to buy your plans, not Mr. Lenoir!’
‘Do you want to drain the marsh, then?’ said Uncle Quentin, in surprise.
Mr. Barling laughed scornfully. ‘No! Your plans, and the results of your experiments, will be burnt! They will be mine, but I shall not want to use them. I want the marsh left as it is, secret, covered with mist, and treacherous to all but me and my men. So, my dear sir, you will please name your price to me, instead of to Mr. Lenoir, and sign this document, which I have had prepared, making over all your plans to me!’
He flourished a large piece of paper in front of Uncle Quentin. Sooty watched breathlessly.
Uncle Quentin picked up the paper. He tore it into small pieces. He threw them into Mr. Barling’s face and said, scornfully: ‘I don’t deal with madmen, nor with rogues, Mr. Barling!’
Chapter Twenty TIMMY TO THE RESCUE.
MR. BARLING went very pale. Sooty gave a loud crow of delight. ‘Hurrah! Good for you, Uncle Quentin!’
Block gave a loud exclamation, and darted to the excited boy. He took him by the shoulder, and raised the rope to thrash him.
‘That’s right,’ said Mr. Barling, in a funny kind of hissing voice^ ‘Deal with him first, Block, and then with this -this – stubborn – obstinate – fool! We’ll soon bring them to their senses. A good thrashing now and again, a few days here in the dark, without any food – ah, that will make them more biddable!’
Sooty yelled at the top of his voice. Uncle Quentin leapt to his feet. The rope came down and Sooty yelled again.
Then there suddenly came the pattering of quick feet, and something flung itself on Block. Block gave a scream of pain and turned. He knocked the lantern over by accident, and the light went out.
There was a sound of fierce growling. Block staggered about trying to keep off the creature that had fastened itself on to him.
‘Barling! Help me!’ he shouted.
Mr. Barling went to his aid, but was attacked in his turn. Uncle Quentin and Sooty listened in amazement and fear. What creature was this that had suddenly arrived? Would it attack them next? Was it a giant-rat – or some fierce wild animal that haunted these tunnels?
The fierce animal suddenly barked. Sooty gave a squeal of joy.
TIMMY! It’s you, Timmy! Oh, good dog, good dog! Go for him, then, go for him! Bite him, Jimmy, bite hard.’
The two frightened men could do nothing against the angry dog. Soon they were running down the tunnel as fast as they could go, feeling for the string for fear of being lost. Timmy chased them with much enjoyment, and then returned to Sooty and George’s father, rather pleased with himself.
He had a tremendous welcome. George’s father made a great fuss of him, and Sooty put his arms round the big dog’s neck.
‘How did you come here? Did you find your way out of the secret passage you’ve been in? Are you half-starved? Look, here’s some food.’
Timmy ate heartily. He had managed to devour a few rats, but otherwise had had no food at all. He had licked the drops that here and there he had found dripping from the roof, so he had not been thirsty. But he had certainly been extremely puzzled and worried. He had never before been so long away from his beloved mistress!
‘Uncle Quentin – Timmy could take us safely back to Smuggler’s Top, couldn’t he?’ said Sooty, suddenly. He spoke to Timmy. ‘Can you take us home, old boy? Home, to George?’
Timmy listened, with his ears cocked up. He ran down the passage a little way, but soon came back. He did not like the idea of going down there. He felt that enemies were waiting for them all. Mr. Barling and Block were not likely to give in quite so easily!
But Timmy knew other ways about the tunnels that honeycombed the hillside. He knew, for instance, the
way down to the marsh! So he set off in the darkness, with Uncle Quentin’s hand on his collar, and Sooty following close behind, holding on to Uncle Quentin’s coat.
It wasn’t easy or pleasant. Uncle Quentin wondered at times if Timmy really did know where he was going. They went down and down, stumbling over uneven places, sometimes knocking their heads against an unexpectedly low piece of roof. It was not a pleasant journey for Uncle Quentin, for he had no shoes on his feet, and was dressed only in pyjamas and rugs.
After a long time they came out on the edge of the marsh itself, at the bottom of the hill! It was a desolate place, and the mists were over it, so that neither Sooty nor Uncle Quentin knew which way to turn!
‘Never mind,’ said Sooty, ‘we can easily leave it to Timmy. He knows the way all right. He’ll take us back to the town, and once there we’ll know the way home ourselves!’
But suddenly, to their surprise and dismay, Timmy stopped dead, pricked up his ears, whined and would go no farther. He looked thoroughly miserable and unhappy. What could be the matter?
Then, with a bark, the big dog left the two by themselves, and galloped back into the tunnel they had just left. He disappeared completely!
‘Timmy!’ yelled Sooty. ‘Timmy! Come here! Don’t leave us! TIMMY!’
But Timmy was gone; why, neither Sooty nor Uncle Quentin knew. They stared at one another.
‘Well – I suppose we’d better try to make our way over this marshy bit,’ said Uncle Quentin, doubtfully, putting a foot out to see if the ground was hard. It wasn’t! He drew back his foot at once.
The mists were so thick that it was really impossible to see anything. Behind them was the opening to the tunnel. A steep rocky cliff rose up above it. There was no path that way, it was certain. Somehow they had to make their way round the foot of the hill to the main-road that entered the town – but the way lay over marshy ground!
‘Let’s sit down and wait for a bit to see if Timmy comes back,’ said Sooty. So they sat down on a rock at the entrance to the tunnel and waited.
Sooty began to think of the others. He wondered what they had thought when they had discovered that both he and Uncle Quentin were missing. How astonished they must have been!
‘I wonder what the others are doing?’ he said, aloud. Tdlove to know!’
The others, as we know, had been doing plenty. They had found the opening in the window-seat where Mr. Barling had taken the captives, and they had gone down it and actually seen Mr. Barling and Block on their way to talk to Uncle Quentin and Sooty!
They had found out, too, that Block hadn’t been in his bed – he had left a dummy there instead. Now everyone was talking at once, and Mr. Lenoir was suddenly convinced that Block had been a spy, put in his house by Mr. Barling, and not the good servant he had appeared!
Once Julian felt that he was convinced of this he spoke to him more freely, and told him of the way through the window-seat, and of how they had seen Mr. Barling and Block that very day, in the underground tunnels!