Mrs Cantrip chuckled. It was not a nice noise. She clapped her hands on her bony knees. *It's as nice a bit of mischief as I've come across in a week of wet Wednesdays. In plain English, you want the three of them kidnapped? All right. We'll do it!' said Mrs Cantrip.

*That's all very well, but what do I get out of it?' said Miss Dibdin huffily. *I haven't been consulted!'

*Ah, but just think, dear!' the old woman wheedled. *You'll maybe put all you've learned into practice! What a chance! Poor old Mother Cantrip can do no more magic now!'

*And you shall have your pick of all the kittens in the two towns to bring up as your cat!' said Queen Grisana.

*That's generous, dear! Don't turn it down. I always say a good cat can make or mar a young witch's magic.'

*Very well,' said Miss Dibdin grudgingly. *I'll help. But I think you might have consulted me a little sooner.'

*Then that's settled,' said Mrs Cantrip. *Well, we'd better be off.'

*I do hope the broom will behave better on the return journey,' said Miss Dibdin, licking her lips nervously.

*Better launch from the edge of the roof. It'll be easier,' said the old woman.

*I must go, too,' said Grisana. *My son will be curious if I stay longer, and that would never do. What we parents must put up with for the sake of our children!' she purred affectedly.

John and Rosemary crouched among the valerian. The crushed leaves smelt evilly, but they dared not lift their heads to watch, so what happened next they could only hear. There was a pause during which they imagined that Her Royal Greyness and her attendants must have gone their silent way.

Then they heard Mrs Cantrip say, *She's gone. As wicked a piece of cat flesh as I've had the pleasure of meeting. Very satisfactory. "All for my dear son's sake!"' she mimicked. Then, in reply to a remark from Miss Dibdin which they did not hear, she added, *Not likely! It's your broom, you can lead it!'

They heard the receding sound of a stick swishing through the gra.s.s. Cautiously they looked up. Miss Dibdin was leading the broom which alternately whipped around and lagged behind, like an unwilling dog on a lead.

*Better duck,' whispered John, *in case the broom should circle above us when it's launched.'

They crouched in the gra.s.s once more.

There was a distant exclamation and a low laugh from Mrs Cantrip, and after a few moments' pause there was a whirr above them.

*They're off!' said John. *That's funny, I thought I heard two things whizzing by!'

*So did I!' said Rosemary.

Both children sat up and gazed into the sky. Lurching down the wind was Miss Dibdin, clinging to the bucking broom for dear life. But beside her, travelling smoothly and easily, flew something else.

*The rocking chair! Quick!' said John. Together they dashed up the gra.s.sy slope over which they had crept with such caution. They scrambled up the little tree-crowned hill and peered anxiously over the other side.

*It's gone!' said John. *They've taken the rocking chair!'

There was a dreadful pause. Then Rosemary said in a very small voice, *How are we going to get home?'

13.

Stranded

*How are we going to get home? My good girl, I don't know any more than you do!' said John, and because he was a little scared, he sounded cross. Then he was sorry. He thumped Rosemary on the back. *Here, borrow my hankie,' he said, and untied it from his grazed knee.

Rosemary sniffed hard, looked at the handkerchief, shook her head and wiped her cheeks on the back of her hand.

*I'm all right now,' she said jerkily. *We'd better explore. Perhaps we shall find a way down.'

*What about the two paths Grisana talked about?' said John. *She said they were the only ways up here. Why don't you go round that side, and I'll go round the other.'

*No fear!' said Rosemary, *I'm coming with you!'

The moon, round and full, sailed across a cloudless sky. It shone on the gra.s.sy plateau of the high place, touching each leafy branch and every blade of gra.s.s with silver. Though it was almost as light as day, the shadows were very dark. Presently Rosemary said, *I almost wish we could find Noggin or Swabber.' But there was no sign of life anywhere.

They walked around the edge of the high place together. Beyond was a sheer drop. *What's that?' said John. *Down there! Don't go too near the edge. Lie down and look over.'

They lay on their stomachs and peered over the edge. Six feet down there was a narrow ledge which might be a path. They could see it winding its way down.

*Well, a cat could jump on to it with safety, but not a human,' said John, *so that's no good. Let's find the other one.'

The second mountain path was no better. It wound away down what looked like a sheer wall of chalk. Rosemary turned away from the dizzying view. She could see what looked like cats moving busily about their affairs on the hills cl.u.s.tered below them.

*I don't think there is anything we can do except wait until daylight,' she said.

They wandered back toward the tree-crowned hill where they had first landed. As they came to the little stream, Rosemary said, *It doesn't look like water. It's white! Do you think it could possibly be milk? I'm awfully thirsty!'

She knelt down, drank a little from her cupped hands, but I'm sorry to say she spat it out again.

*What's it like?' asked John.

*It's milk all right, but it tastes like milk that's had haddock boiled in it! Let's sit down.'

She suddenly felt very, very tired, and they sat down with their backs against a tree trunk.

*Mrs Cantrip said she would have to find out where the kittens are,' she said sleepily. *I expect it will take her some time, but we ought to make some sort of plan.'

*All right,' said John, and he yawned. *Let's think.' But like Swabber, they both *thought' with their eyes closed and in five minutes they were fast asleep.

It was John who woke first.

*Rosie! Wake up! It's morning!' he said.

Rosemary sat up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked around. No longer were they sitting on a gra.s.sy bank, but on a hard, zinc-covered roof, their backs against a ventilator shaft. It was a grey morning with a chill little breeze that found its way through Rosemary's dressing gown. She shivered. John turned up the collar of his jacket. They looked about them, at the grey expanse of roof. Where the stream had chuckled along its weed-fringed way was a gutter; where the thicket of trees had stood was a group of television aerials.

*Let's have a look at the mountain paths!' said John. *Perhaps they've turned into something useful.'

They ran to the edge of the roof. The *mountain paths' had certainly turned into something useful for the occupiers of all the ten floors of offices below, but not to anyone unlucky enough to be stranded on the roof. The two fire escapes they had become stopped short at the top floor. Neither of the escapes went up as high as the roof itself.

*If only we had a rope! We could let ourselves down,' said John. *We might try tearing your nightdress into strips.'

*We certainly might not!' said Rosemary. *If you think I'm going home in nothing but a dressing gown a"' She stopped as a distant clock struck, and caught John's arm. *We must get home somehow, it's seven o'clock! Mother will be worried stiff if she finds we aren't there, and we promised not to be inconsiderate. What shall we do?'

*There simply must be some way up on to the roof,' said John desperately. *What's that triangular thing sticking up over there?'

They ran to look. In the side of a triangular erection, facing away from where they had been standing, was a door. They rattled the handle, but it was locked. They did not stop to argue. They hammered on it with their fists and shouted for all they were worth, and after what seemed an age, it opened outwards suddenly. They were nearly knocked off their feet. Just inside, at the top of a flight of stairs, stood a very fat woman in a sacking ap.r.o.n, holding a broom with both hands above her head, as if ready to defend herself against all comers. When she saw John and Rosemary, she lowered the broom.

*Well, I don't know! A couple of children! Are there any more of you?' she asked suspiciously, peering around the door.

*Only us two, John and Rosemary.'

*You were making enough noise for twenty,' said the old woman. *I'd just started scrubbing them top stairs when I heard a shouting and banging like the Day of Judgement. "Burglars!" I said to myself. "I'm off." And then I said, "Sounds like kids' voices. It's them boys again, I'll be bound. I'll get even with 'em!" So up I comes. But whatever next! What are you doing up here?'

*Oh, please!' said Rosemary. *Please let us out. We must get home! Mummy will be so worried. They left us and we couldn't get down!'

*Locked you up there? You poor little things. You ought to be ashamed of getting your little sister into trouble like this!' the old woman said to John.

John opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it, and she went on, *Well, you'd better come down, the pair of you.'

She took Rosemary by the hand, not unkindly. *Why, you're starved, love! I've got a kettle on downstairs for a cup of cocoa. You'd better have a drop to warm you up. You'll have to walk down a" the lift don't work till nine.'

She shut the door and shot the bolts home. Thankfully, the children followed her. There were ten floors to pa.s.s. She went down in front of them, telling them over her shoulder that she was getting her work done early because her son had been *took bad', and she wanted to get home to him, and about the battle she waged against dirty footmarks on the stairs, and boys in general, and that she could not understand how in the world they could have got up to the roof. John made a half-hearted attempt to defend *them boys'. After all, they were not to blame this time, but the old woman swept his explanation on one side with an indignant *Don't you tell me!'

At last she led them down to a little room in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Here they found a sink, a metal cupboard, a chair and a table. On the table stood an electric kettle which was already blowing steam through its spout like an angry dragon. She got a mug and two cups from the cupboard, a tin of cocoa and another of condensed milk, and in each mug she made a rich, dark brew. It was not cocoa as they knew it, but it was sweet and comforting, and put new courage into them. They drank while sitting on two upturned buckets.

*Lucky for you I was early,' the old woman said, between gulps of scalding cocoa. *Now then, suppose you tell me all about it!' Her eyes were shrewd over the rim of the mug.

*Well,' said John slowly. *We can't tell you all about it, because of the others. But we got on to the roof when they were there, and thena well, they left us up there, on purpose I think, and we couldn't get down.'

*Well, I must say, I like a lad who won't tell on his pals, but you can tell them from me that next time I catch hair or hide of 'em lurking on my roof, there'll be real trouble. You're a nicely spoken pair of little things, I'll say that, but let this be a lesson to you. Steer clear of them boys! And if ever I find you up there again a"' She blew noisily on the hot cocoa and left them to imagine the awfulness of the punishment that would be in store.

*Then you won't say anything to anyone this time?' said Rosemary. *You are a darling! We'll never do it again, and we shall never forget how kind you've been!'

The old woman's eyes twinkled. *Well, I like a bit of fun myself. Always did! And believe it or not, I was young once myself. Where do you live?'

*Fallowhithe,' said Rosemary.

*Fallowa?'

The old woman put down her mug with such a b.u.mp that the cocoa slopped over. She stared at Rosemary.

*'Ere, don't tell me you're in your night things?'

Rosemary nodded.

*You been up there all night?'

Rosemary nodded again.

*Your poor ma will be frantic! Have you got your bus fares home? You haven't? Well, I don't know! *Ere you are.' She took a worn black purse from her pocket and pushed a shilling into John's hand. When they tried to thank her she seemed embarra.s.sed.

*All right, all right, you can send it back, dear. Flackett's the name, Number 1 Adelaide Row. Now hop it, or I shan't get my work done early after all.'

John and Rosemary did not have to be told twice. But before finally going out into the street, Rosemary tied up her nightdress with her dressing gown cord.

*It's a good thing your dressing gown has got too small,' said John. *It looks like a coat.'

*I hope everyone else will think so,' said Rosemary doubtfully.

But people who travel on buses between seven and eight in the morning do not bother very much about what their fellow travellers are wearing. Apart from a wink and a *What's this, the babes in the wood?' from the driver, for there were no other children, they reached the end of Cranshaw Road without any more adventures.

As they turned into number 101, John said, *We never made any plans last night after all about keeping the kittens safe. Let's look in before we go up to breakfast and tell Woppit to be specially careful.'

Rosemary nodded.

*And we must get those screws for the lock straight away,' she said as they ran across the lawn. They could see the greenhouse from the bottom of the path.

*Oh!' she said. *The door's open! Come on!'

Together they raced down the path and looked inside. The flower pots they had stacked in one corner so neatly were upset and were scattered over the floor. The basket, in which the kittens slept, was on its side. The blanket was not there.

*Calidor! Pergamond!' called Rosemary sharply.

There was no reply. Only a plaintive squeak from the swinging door broke the silence. Frantically, they searched in every corner, they parted the strands of the creeper that grew up the sides of the greenhouse, they turned the watering can upside down, they even peered through the grating in the floor and as they searched they called. But there was no sign of the kittens.

*It's no use,' said Rosemary. *They've gone!'

14.

Gone!