The Midnight Folk Read online

  “They may be.”

  “If they are, why don’t they use the wish-basket?”

  “You can only use a wish-basket for good things,” Nibbins said, “so you may be sure that they don’t use it much.”

  “Where’s Bitem gone?” Kay asked, looking round.

  “He never says when he’s going; he goes,” Nibbins said.

  The picks at this moment struck some rotten piece of rock. One of the workers cried, “Look out, she’s coming.” On the instant there came a crashing fall as though all the roof had given way. There was a half-minute’s pause, then the voice of Abner Brown sounded very distinctly through the rocks as he tapped with a hammer.

  “That was a good clearance,” he said. “Hark at the taps. Two or three more like the last will fetch us through. You can hear how hollow it is on the other side.”

  The man called dear Brother Venom began to sing:

  “When the thin moon peers and the skies are black,

  I call from the twisted chimney stack,

  Bring me Scarlet Toadstool and Livid Toad,

  And a Corpse Way grass from Dead Men’s Road.

  Under the Dark Star Twice

  Wet with the Red Dew thrice . . . ”

  “Now, no singing,” Abner said. “When we get into the main cave and find the treasure we will sing.”

  The voices and the pickaxes seemed so near that it was like having them in the next room.

  “They’ll get the treasure now,” Kay thought, “if it’s here. But is it here?”

  He held up the lantern, over the casks and cases stowed at the lower end of the cave; he counted twenty-nine small wooden tubs, thirteen small puncheons of green glass, and eleven flat wooden boxes, some of which had rotted through, showing mildewed silk, rotted lace, and fungus where tobacco had been. “This is not the treasure,” he said. “These are things left by the Moonlighters.”

  “Well, come along,” Nibbins whispered. “Quick, before they break through upon us. Don’t let us be caught by the Seven.”

  “Wait a minute,” Kay said, “I must just look round.”

  “Oh, don’t. Come along.”

  “No. I want to see.”

  “Well, I’m going,” Nibbins said.

  Kay let him go, while he looked round the cave; there was no other treasure than the spirits. “It isn’t here,” he said. “It will be a fine squish for the Seven when they break through.”

  He noticed that at some time, long before, there had been a heavy fall of rock at the landward side of the cave. Thinking that the fall might have buried the treasure, he walked to that side to look at it; something was there, lying on the ground.

  It was not treasure, but the skeleton of a man, lying on his side in the rags of his clothes. He clutched a rusty knife in one hand, and the tin door of his broken lantern (which lay at a little distance from him) in the other. He had been scratching something on the tin at the time of his death. Kay picked up the piece of tin to read the writing, but at that instant, oh horror, there came another crash of rock followed by a cheer of “Hurray, the pick’s gone through.”

  Kay did not wait another second; he pocketed the inscribed tin and hopped up the ladder after Nibbins. When they were at the point of coming out into the open air, Nibbins suddenly stopped him. “She is there,” he whispered. “Just outside.”

  Almost on the instant the voices of the pickaxe men, Abner and Venom, were heard outside calling:

  “Mrs. Pouncer . . . Mrs. Pouncer . . . Come on down. We’ve put a pick head right through the rock into a cave as big as a wine-vault. We’ll all be through into it in an hour or two, like into Tom Tiddler’s Ground, picking up gold and silver.”

  “How wonderful,” Mrs. Pouncer said. “But what are those things you’re carrying?”

  “Yes, what are they?” Abner said. “We found them in the outer cave. People had been digging there only this morning. Perhaps you can tell us whose they are.”

  Mrs. Pouncer seemed to be examining the things.

  “A handkerchief marked Edward,” she said, “a collar marked Brown Bear, an old hat marked Robin Pointnose, a knight’s cloak buckle, with the device of the Ploughstars, and a coloured waistcoat marked Bruno Bree. No . . . I really cannot say whose they are. But they must be the things of enemies, for, do you know, just as you began to bring them here I began to feel that pricking in my toes which tells me that enemies are near, about to thwart us.”

  “Let us get back to the digging, then,” Brother Venom said.

  “Yes . . . and I want you to see the place, Sister Pouncer,” Abner said. “Perhaps, there you will have an intuition of who it is that may be trying to thwart us . . . ”

  “But . . . ” he added, as they all moved away to their entrance, some distance upstream, “the men who try to thwart us now will get my grandpop’s remedy, a lead pill in the plexus.”

  As soon as they had gone, Kay slipped on the scarlet shoes, took up Nibbins, stepped out with his foot, and in another minute was in his bedroom. Nibbins ran away at once to purr to Ellen for the milk and sardine which she always gave to cats which had been missing. Kay looked at the piece of tin which he had taken from the dead man’s hand. The oblong door of the lantern had been scratched with a knife-point thus, on the inner silvered side:

  “There it is,” Kay said. “Abner followed him into the cave and shot him. That is poor Piney Trigger himself that is lying there.”

  “That’s what,” Rat suddenly answered at his elbow.

  “How do you know?” Kay asked.

  “Acos I knowd the party and seen the deed,” Rat answered. “You think acos I got yellow teeth and a tail as I wot not what’s what, but I wot’s that which, howsomedever.

  “I was marine cellarman in them days. I come up the river in a barge wot had strong smells in it, but not good to eat, only to sniff when faint. There was floods and bangings, and the water come into the barge, so I says, ‘I’d better get out of this,’ so I climbed ashore along a rope.

  “Ah, and I need to hold on, too, doing it.

  “There was a strong smell when I come ashore, so I followed it. I got down into a cave by the smell, and was just settling in, when in come a stout but pale party, with a lantern. He goes all about, looking at the casks and things and making notes and muttering. ‘So you’re a cellarman, too,’ I says.

  “Suddenly in come a white-haired party with another lantern. ‘Now, Ben Trigger,’ he says, ‘I’ve tracked you down,’ he says. ‘Are you going to share? I want half.’

  “‘You can want,’ the other says. ‘You’ll get nothing out of me, except another tooth out.’

  “Then BANG goes the white-haired man’s pistol, and the other party falls. I was so scared of the bang, it did so clang, that I run out into the night.

  “Bye and bye, the white-haired man comes out, all shakey and twittery, saying, ‘I’ve killed him dead, and after all it isn’t there . . . the treasure isn’t there . . . and now I’m a doomed man . . . Oh, what shall I do? Oh, why did I shoot? I didn’t mean nothing, except just to scare him . . . ”

  “And at that he goes too close to the bank, which was all rotten with the rain, and the bank had a bush on it, and bank, bush and he went swoosh into the river, which was all one foaming roar. It spun him right out into the white, and he go on screaming just like a pig, but not for long in a roar like that.

  “I went back to the cave. The pale man had broken his lantern, so I ate his candle and come away. I don’t like being cellarman where there are bangs; but if you ask what was what about what you know, I say that that’s what.”

  “Yes,” Kay said, “that was what, I see it all. And by this time, I expect the Seven will have found the little south cave, and taken all the treasure.

  “Oh, I wish that Edward and the others could have found it.

  “I wonder who would stop the Seven from having it, because it isn’t theirs. Who could stop them?”

  The day passed as he puzzled over the question, who
could stop them. The governess was not there for dinner, nor for tea; but just as Kay was going to bed two carriages drove up, with herself and seven others. They were all very dirty, hot and cross. “They haven’t found it after all,” Kay thought.

  They all came into the house. Jane was ordered to build up the fire, as everybody was to have a hot bath. After the baths, they were to have a high tea for eight, with sixteen poached eggs, and Ellen was to go to Farmer Cheeses and bring two pounds of fresh butter and a quart of cream, because they had had such an exhausting day exploring the ancient history. “And mind the tea is strong,” Abner said, “for we shall all be up all night at this.”

  “Yes, please see that the tea is very strong, Jane,” the governess said. “And, Ellen, you might call at Mr. Clove’s for a pound of his special tea; and Mr. Brown would like some of the Invalid’s Brandy, that is in the cellar to mix with his tea, so please bring up a bottle, or rather, two bottles, for the others might like a little too. And as we are rather short of cakes, please go to the bakers and ask for any fresh crumpets, for there is nothing more delicious than hot crumpets thickly buttered and spread with sugar.”

  As they were now beginning to come upstairs, Kay hopped into bed, where he very soon fell fast asleep.

  He had slept for some little time, when he felt himself rudely shaken by the arm. He woke up to find the room full of light, as before. Nibbins was on his bed, shaking him.

  “Wake up, Kay,” he said, “wake up. We haven’t got a moment to lose. I’ve only just been able to dodge her and get here.”

  “What is it?” Kay said.

  “No more witchcraft for me,” Nibbins said, “after what I’ve gone through this evening. They caught me fast asleep in my chair after they’d had tea, and they took me up to their black room, as they call it. I knew when I saw the black room and all the Seven, as well as Abner, that they were going to do something awful . . . and I can tell you they did.”

  “But what did they do?” Kay said.

  “Do?” Nibbins said. “What didn’t they do? First they tried all the simple witchcraft. A fellow wouldn’t object to that. There’s nothing in that, it’s rather fun. But when that didn’t do any good, they said that they’d have to use stronger measures.”

  “But I still don’t understand,” Kay said, trying hard to wake up. “What were they trying to do?”

  “Why, to find the treasure, because they said that others were working against them, and they meant to find it first. They tried things that make my blood run cold, awful things; but they could get no clue. Then Mrs. Pouncer said, ‘Well, we’ll find out who it is that’s thwarting us,’ so they tried that. They asked it three times, and each time they got the answer, ‘Kay and his friends.’ Then Abner said, ‘Oh, indeed. Really. Right. We’ll give Kay and his friends such a change as they little expect.’ They’ll be here in a minute; any minute. Come along, Kay, quick.”

  “Where to?” Kay said.

  “Out of here, first. Quick. There are their steps in the corridor.”

  Sure enough, there were their steps. Kay and Nibbins had barely time to slip through the little door in the wainscot, and bolt it behind them, before the Seven were in the bedroom.

  Kay and Nibbins ran down the corridor into the garden. As they came out into the night, they ran into someone; they thought for an instant that it was Abner, but it was Bitem eating a rabbit. He knew at once that the hunt was up.

  “Right,” he cried. “Jump on my back, Kay. Hold me round the neck; I can manage . . . ”

  In a minute they were over the wall; the church clock then striking one.

  “Down into the town, Bitem,” Nibbins said. “They’ll never think we went there.” They saw the lanterns of the Seven in the garden, all moving away from them. “I was only just in time,” Nibbins whispered. “We’d only a minute to spare.”

  In a few minutes, they paused for breath in the street of the little town, which stretched to right and left in the silence of the moonlight. All the townspeople were abed; even Pimply Whatto. All the houses were shuttered, no lights shone in the windows; not even a cat moved along the broad green shaded with trees, where the stocks still stood beside the whipping post.

  “We’re not pursued,” Nibbins said. “It’s all right,”

  “I don’t know that it’s all right,” Bitem said. “This isn’t exactly the kind of place that’s all right for me. They’ve got scores against me that you little wot of, Nibbins, all of them. I’d a guinea-fowl out of that one. I’d three hens and a cock out of that one. At least you can’t count the cock; he was the toughest I ever. Then, that one with the gate, he was turkeys, very innocent young things, very mealy. Then that one was ducks, just the three, if I remember; then that other one was a goose, and that one was a clutch of chickens. Then there was tame rabbits there, very juicy they was, only furry to the gullet, if you understand. There was only a guinea-pig there, nothing on him, but worth it just to try. Then in that one she thought that she’d shut me out, but she’d really shut me in. Nineteen they counted the next morning, but she didn’t see me, because I got out while she swounded.”

  “What we ought to do,” Nibbins said, “is to cross running water. That upsets magic.”

  “Well, we have crossed running water,” Bitem said. “There’s an underground brook runs under here. Many’s the time I’ve gone along it.”

  “Are you sure of that, Bitem?” Nibbins said.

  “Well, of course, I’m sure.”

  Nibbins stopped still and began to shake.

  “It’s all very well,” he said, “to be free from them for the moment, but we’ve got to go back. It’s tomorrow morning that I’m thinking of.”

  “Never you think about tomorrow morning,” Bitem said. “You just be thankful that you’re not caught today. If you’d been hunted like what I’ve been hunted, the hounds coming on you in the middle of your sweet sleep and you not expecting them nor hearing them, no, but just dreaming of your last juicy bit of gosling, all yellow fat . . . Ah, if you’d gone through that and heard the horn and the horses, and seen their sharp teeth, and run all day in front of thirty of them . . . Ah, if you’d done that and got away at the end, you wouldn’t think about any tomorrow. No. ‘Let tomorrow fend for itself,’ you’d say, ‘but this is bliss.’”

  “What in the wide world is this?” Kay asked, interrupting.

  Coming up the centre of the road that led from the river was a procession of small carts drawn by sturdy horses under escort. Kay looked at the carts and recognised them. There in front were the two which he had owned; they were very good ones which tipped up and had tailboards that came out. Then there was little Bill Gassle’s cart and little Dick’s cart from the Rectory and Charles’s and Brian’s carts from the Squire’s. Then there were all the brand-new shining blue, yellow and scarlet carts from the village toy-shop; and a lot more carts, which he didn’t recognise at all. But marching in front of the long procession of loaded carts was a figure, whom he thought never to see again. It was Edward in his fullest uniform, in his coat with the piping down the edges, his gun slung in a bandolier and his rapier at his side.

  “Edward,” he cried.

  “Ha, Kay,” Edward said in his usual extravagant manner. “I’ve got the treasure. We’ve jolly well got the treasure for you, Kay. We’ve been a long time about it, but, when I give my mind to a thing, I carry it through.”

  “You mean you got it from the little south cave?” Kay asked.

  “Yes, out of the little south cave: and it’s going under the hearthstone in your room before tonight’s much older. And don’t you have any fear, Kay. We’re the guards, we are. We hear that the house has gone all to sixes and sevens since we left it, but that’s going to be remedied now.”

  Nibbins burst into tears of joy.

  “Edward and the guards come back,” he cackled. “Now there won’t be any more witchcraft.”

  “And are you going to the house, now?” Kay asked.

  “Going
straight there. Come on.”

  “Look out, then,” Nibbins said, “for they’re all there, looking for us.”

  “There’s nothing I like better,” Edward said, “than to have my enemy looking for me; then I don’t have to look for him. Come on, boys.”

  When they reached the garden, Nibbins said, “Be careful, now. Halt the carts. They’ll have sentries posted at the doors, you may be certain. Yes. Look. There, those little green lights near the holly; that’s Blackmalkin; those are his eyes. Greymalkin will be on the other side of the house, guarding the other doors.”

  “Right,” Edward said. “Bitem, let you and Tom creep round through the grass till you see Greymalkin; he’ll probably be under the yew. Take a sack and scrobble him up in it, don’t let him squeal. We’ll settle what to do with him later.”

  “He shan’t squeal,” Bitem said. “Nor yet won’t he not gurgle.”

  “We’ll give you a full minute’s start,” Edward said, “to give you time to get round. Then Dogg here, and Peter Dogg, and you, Nibs, shall creep in with another sack on Blackmalkin there, scrobble him up and not let him squeal. We’ll settle what to do with him later. Off you go, Bitem and Tom. We’ll get in as soon as the guards are sacked.”

  Kay saw Bitem and the rather melancholy-looking lad known as Tom steal away through the long grass. “He’s first rate for a night attack, Tom,” Edward said. “He’s so unexpected.”

  After what seemed a long long time, the two Dogg cousins crept away with Nibbins. Presently Kay saw Blackmalkin’s eyes glow up green. He had been pacing to and fro, and now had turned to stare in their direction. Edward nudged Kay’s arm. “Now watch,” he said.

  Kay saw the green eyes become a little brighter as Blackmalkin took a few steps towards them. Then suddenly the two little lights went out. There was no squeal, nor any sound of a scuffle, only a little sigh as though somebody very thirsty had just had a cool pleasant drink. Edward nudged Kay again. “They’ve bagged him,” he said. In a few minutes the two sets of scouts returned, bearing the two sentries, both neatly tied up in sacks. The water-rat appeared at the secret door. “You can go in,” he said. “I’ve just been up part of the way. They are in a great tear and taking, all setting off for the river or somewhere.”