The Sea of Adventure (2 page)

"Aunt Allie!" yelled Jack, beside himself with joy. "That's the most marvellous idea you've ever had in your life! Oh, I say . . ."

"Yes, Mother — it's gorgeous!" agreed Philip, rapping on the table to emphasise his feelings. Kiki at once rapped her beak too.

"Come in," she ordered solemnly, but no one took any notice. This new idea was too thrilling.

Lucy-Ann always loved to be where her brother Jack was, so she beamed too, knowing how happy Jack would be among his beloved birds. Philip too, lover of animals and birds, could hardly believe that his mother had made such a wonderful suggestion.

Only Dinah looked blue. She was not fond of wild animals, and was really scared of most of them, though she was better than she had been. She liked birds but hadn't the same intense interest in and love for them that the boys had. Still — to be all by themselves in some wild, lonely place by the sea — wearing old clothes — doing what they liked, picnicking every day — what joy! So Dinah began to smile too, and joined in the cheerful hullabaloo.

"Can we really go? All by ourselves?"

"When? Do say when!"

"Tomorrow! Can't we go tomorrow? Golly, I feel better just at the thought of it!"

"Mother! Whatever made you think of it. Honestly, it's wizard!"

Kiki sat on Jack's shoulder, listening to the babel of noise. The rats hidden about Philip's clothes burrowed deeply for safety, scared of such a sudden outburst of voices.

"Give me a chance to explain," said Mrs. Mannering. "There's an expedition setting out in two days' time for some of the lonely coasts and islands off the north of Britain. Just a few naturalists, and one boy, the son of Dr. Johns, the ornithologist."

All the children knew what an ornithologist was — one who loved and studied birds and their ways. Philip's father had been a bird-lover. He was dead now, and the boy often wished he had known him, for he was very like him in his love for all wild creatures.

"Dr. Johns!" said Philip. "Why — that was one of Daddy's best friends."

"Yes," said his mother. "I met him last week and he was telling me about this expedition. His boy is going, and he wondered if there was any chance of you and Dinah going, Philip. You weren't at all well then, and I said no at once. But now . . ."

"But now we can!" cried Philip, giving his mother a sudden hug. "Fancy you thinking of somebody like Miss Lawson, when you knew about this! How could you?"

"Well — it seems a long way for you to go," said Mrs. Mannering. "And it wasn't exactly the kind of holiday I had imagined for you. Still, if you think you'd like it, I'll ring up Dr. Johns and arrange for him to add four more to his bird-expedition if he can manage it."

"Of course he'll be able to manage it!" cried Lucy-Ann. "We shall be company for his boy, too, Aunt Allie. I say — won't it be absolutely lovely to be up so far north, in this glorious early summer weather?"

The children felt happy and cheerful that tea-time as they discussed the expedition. To go exploring among the northern islands, some of them only inhabited by birds! To swim and sail and walk, and watch hundreds, no, thousands of wild birds in their daily lives!

"There'll be puffins up there," said Jack happily. "Thousands of them. They go there in nesting time. I've always wanted to study them, they're such comical-looking birds."

"Puff-puff-puffin," said Kiki at once, thinking it was an invitation to her to let off her railway-engine screech. But Jack stopped her sternly.

"No, Kiki. No more of that. Frighten the gulls and the cormorants, the guillemots and the puffins all you like with that awful screech when we get to them — but you are not to let it off here. It gets on Aunt Allie's nerves."

"What a pity, what a pity!" said Kiki mournfully. "Puff-puff, ch-ch-ch!"

"Idiot," said Jack, and ruffled the parrot's feathers. She sidled towards him on the tea-table, and rubbed her beak against his shoulder. Then she pecked a large strawberry out of the jar of jam.

"Oh, Jack!" began Mrs. Mannering, "you know I don't like Kiki on the table at mealtimes — and really, that's the third time she's helped herself to strawberries out of the jam."

"Put it back, Kiki," ordered Jack at once. But that didn't please Mrs. Mannering either. Really, she thought, it would be very very nice and peaceful when the four children and the parrot were safely off on their holiday.

The children spent a very happy evening talking about the coming holiday. The next day Jack and Philip looked out their field-glasses and cleaned them up. Jack hunted for his camera, a very fine one indeed.

"I shall take some unique pictures of the puffins," he told Lucy-Ann. "I hope they'll be nesting when we get there, Lucy-Ann, though I think we might be a bit too early to find eggs."

"Do they nest in trees?" asked Lucy-Ann. "Can you take pictures of their nests too, and the puffins sitting on them?"

Jack roared. "Puffins don't nest in trees," he explained. "They nest in burrows underground."

"Gracious!" said Lucy-Ann. "Like rabbits!"

"Well, they even take rabbit burrows for nesting-places sometimes," said Jack. "It will be fun to see puffins scuttling underground to their nests. I bet they will be as tame as anything too, because on some of these bird islands nobody has ever been known to set foot — so the birds don't know enough to fly off when people arrive."

"You could have puffins for pets, easily, then," said Lucy-Ann. "I bet Philip will. I bet he'll only just have to whistle and all the puffins will come huffing and puffing to meet him."

Everyone laughed at Lucy-Ann's comical way of putting things. "Huffin and puffin," said Kiki, scratching her head. "Huffin and puffin, poor little piggy-wiggy-pig."

"Now what's she talking about?" said Jack. "Kiki, you do talk a lot of rubbish."

"Poor little piggy-wiggy-pig," repeated Kiki solemnly. "Huffin and puffin, huffin and . . ."

Philip gave a shout of laughter. "I know! She's remembered hearing the tale of the wolf and the three little pigs — don't you remember how the wolf came huffing and puffing to blow their house down? Oh, Kiki — you're a marvel!"

"She'll give the puffins something to think about," said Dinah. "Won't you, Kiki? They'll wonder what sort of a freak has come to visit them. Hallo — is that the telephone bell?"

"Yes," said Jack, thrilled. "Aunt Allie has put through a call to Dr. Johns — to tell him we'll join his expedition — but he was out, so she asked him to ring back when he got home. I bet that's his call."

The children crowded out into the hall, where the telephone was. Mrs. Mannering was already there. The children pressed close to her, eager to hear everything.

"Hallo!" said Mrs. Mannering. "Is that Dr. Johns — oh, it's Mrs. Johns. Yes, Mrs. Mannering here. What's that? Oh. . . . I'm so dreadfully sorry. How terrible for you! Oh, I do so hope it isn't anything serious. Yes, yes, of course, I quite understand. He will have to put the whole thing off — till next year perhaps. Well, I do hope you'll have good news soon. You'll be sure to let us know, won't you? Good-bye."

She hung up the receiver and turned to the children with a solemn face. "I'm so sorry, children — but Dr. Johns has been in a car accident this morning — he's in hospital, so, of course, the whole expedition is off."

Off! No bird islands after all — no glorious carefree time in the wild seas of the north! What a terrible disappointment!

Chapter 3

VERY MYSTERIOUS

EVERYONE was upset. They were sorry for Mrs. Johns, of course, and for her husband — but as they didn't know them at all, except as old friends of Mr. Mannering long ago, the children felt far far more miserable about their own disappointment.

"We'd talked about it such a lot — and made such plans — and got everything ready," groaned Philip, looking sadly at the field-glasses hanging nearby in their brown leather cases. "Now Mother will look for another Miss Lawson."

"No, I won't," said Mrs. Mannering. "I'll give up my new job, and take you away myself. I can't bear to see you so disappointed, poor things."

"No, darling Aunt Allie, you shan't do that!" said Lucy-Ann flinging herself on Mrs. Mannering. "We wouldn't let you. Oh dear — whatever can we do?"

Nobody knew. It seemed as if their sudden disappointment made everyone incapable of further planning. The bird-holiday or nothing, the bird-holiday or nothing — that was the thought in all the children's minds. They spent the rest of the day pottering about miserably, getting on each other's nerves. One of their sudden quarrels blew up between Philip and Dinah, and with yells and shouts they belaboured one another in a way they had not done for at least a year.

Lucy-Ann began to cry. Jack yelled angrily.

"Stop hitting Dinah, Philip. You'll hurt her!"

But Dinah could give as good as she got, and there was a loud crack as she slapped Philip full across his cheek. Philip caught her hands angrily, and she kicked him. He tripped her up, and down she went on the floor, with her furious brother rolling over and over too. Lucy-Ann got out of their way, still crying. Kiki flew up to the electric light, and cackled loudly. She thought Philip and Dinah were playing.

There was such a noise that nobody heard the telephone bell ringing again. Mrs. Mannering, frowning at the yells and bumps from the playroom, went to answer it. Then she suddenly appeared at the door of the playroom, her face beaming.

It changed when she saw Dinah and Philip fighting on the floor. "Dinah! Philip! Get up at once! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, quarrelling like this now that you are so big. I've a good mind not to tell you who that was on the telephone."

Philip sat up, rubbing his flaming cheek. Dinah wriggled away, holding her arm. Lucy-Ann mopped her tears, and Jack scowled down at the pair on the floor.

"What a collection of bad-tempered children!" said Mrs. Mannering. Then she remembered that they all had had the measles badly, and were probably feeling miserable and bad-tempered after their disappointment that day.

"Listen," she said, more gently, "guess who that was on the telephone."

"Mrs. Johns, to say that Dr. Johns is all right after all," suggested Lucy-Ann hopefully.

Mrs. Mannering shook her head. "No — it was old Bill."

"Bill! Hurrah! So he's turned up again at last," cried Jack. "Is he coming to see us?"

"Well — he was very mysterious," said Mrs. Mannering. "Wouldn't say who he was — just said he might pop in tonight, late — if nobody else was here. Of course I knew it was Bill. I'd know his voice anywhere."

Quarrels and bad temper were immediately forgotten. The thought of seeing Bill again was like a tonic. "Did you tell him we'd had measles and were all at home?" demanded Philip. "Does he know he'll see us too?"

"No — I hadn't time to tell him anything," said Mrs. Mannering. "I tell you, he was most mysterious — hardly on the telephone for half a minute. Anyway, he'll be here tonight. I wonder why he didn't want to come if anyone else was here."

"Because he doesn't want anyone to know where he is, I should think," said Philip. "He must be on one of his secret missions again. Mother, we can stay up to see him, can't we?"

"If he isn't later than half-past nine," said Mrs. Mannering.

She went out of the room. The four looked at one another. "Good old Bill," said Philip. "We haven't seen him for ages. Hope he comes before half-past nine."

"Well, I jolly well shan't go to sleep till I hear him come," said Jack. "Wonder why he was so mysterious."

The children expected to see Bill all the evening, and were most disappointed when no car drove up, and nobody walked up to the front door. Half-past nine came, and no Bill.

"I'm afraid you must all go to bed," said Mrs. Mannering. "I'm sorry — but really you all look so tired and pale. That horrid measles! I do feel so sorry that that expedition is off — it would have done you all the good in the world."

The children went off to bed, grumbling. The girls had a bedroom at the back, and the boys at the front. Jack opened the window and looked out. It was a dark night. No car was to be heard, nor any footsteps.

"I shall listen for Bill," he told Philip. "I shall sit here by the window till he comes. You get into bed. I'll wake you if I hear him."

"We'll take it in turns," said Philip, getting into bed. "You watch for an hour, then wake up, and I'll watch."

In the back bedroom the girls were already in bed. Lucy-Ann wished she could see Bill. She loved him very much — he was so safe and strong and wise. Lucy-Ann had no father or mother, and she often wished that Bill was her father. Aunt Allie was a lovely mother, and it was nice to share her with Philip and Dinah. She couldn't share their father because he was dead.

"I hope I shall keep awake and hear Bill when he comes," she thought. But soon she was fast asleep, and so was Dinah. The clock struck half-past ten, and then eleven.

Jack awoke Philip. "Nobody has come yet," he said. "Your turn to watch, Tufty. Funny that he's so late, isn't it?"

Philip sat down at the window. He yawned. He listened but he could hear nothing. And then he suddenly saw a streak of bright light as his mother, downstairs, pulled back a curtain, and the light flooded into the garden.