The Circus of Adventure (13 page)

Jack’s heart leapt—ah, Borken at last. A whole week had already gone by, and he had been getting very worried indeed. Now perhaps he could get some news of the others. If only he could! Was Lucy-Ann all right? She would so hate being a prisoner in a castle.

They arrived in Borken the next evening. Jack first saw the castle from a long way off. It stood on a hill, and looked like something out of an old tale of King Arthur and his Knights. It was immensely strong, and had four sturdy towers, one at each end.

‘Borken Castle,’ said Pedro, seeing it suddenly, as they came out of a thick wood, through which a rough road ran. He pointed to the great hill. ‘In that castle many a prisoner has been held—and never heard of again. The dungeons are . . .’

‘Don’t,’ said Jack, fearfully. ‘Don’t tell me things like that.’

Pedro looked at him in surprise. ‘What’s the matter? Not scared of a castle, are you?’

‘No,’ said Jack. ‘Er—whereabouts were prisoners kept? In a tower? Anywhere special?’

‘Don’t know,’ said Pedro. ‘We might have a stroll round it sometime—but we wouldn’t be allowed to go too near it, you know.’

The circus camp settled itself in a sloping field just at the bottom of the castle hill. The townsfolk came streaming out to watch them set up camp. Evidently it was a great thing for them to have a travelling circus visiting Borken.

Children darted in and out, shouting and laughing. One small girl came running up to Pedro, calling out something excitedly. He swung her up into his arms, and she shrieked in delight. ‘Pedro, Pedro, allapinotolyoota!’

Pedro replied in the same language. Then he turned to Jack, grinning with pleasure. ‘My little cousin Hela,’ he said. ‘Her father married my aunt. He is a soldier in the Hessian army.’ He turned and asked the excited Hela a few questions.

‘Hela says her mother is with her father here—she is working as a maid in the castle for Madame Tatiosa, who is living at the castle now. And Hela lives in the castle too.’

This was news! Grand news! Now perhaps he would hear something about Lucy-Ann and the others. He stared at the small, gay Hela in excitement. But wait—wait—he mustn’t give himself away. He mustn’t blurt out questions without thinking. He frowned and tried to think what would be the best thing to ask.

‘Pedro—has Madame Tatiosa any children?’ he asked at last. ‘Would she—er—would she like us to give a little show in the castle for them, do you think?’

‘Madame Tatiosa has no children,’ said Pedro. ‘I can tell you that. If she had, she would try to make one of them king! She is a clever, dangerous woman, that one.’

Hela wanted to know what Jack had asked. She listened and then went right up to Pedro and whispered something in his ear, her eyes dancing. Then she put her ringer to her mouth as if telling him not to talk of what she had said.

‘Silly child!’ said Pedro. ‘You have been dreaming!’

‘What did she say?’ said Jack, impatient to hear everything that Hela said. To think she lived in the castle. Why—she might see the others every single day!

‘Hela says that Madame Tatiosa must have adopted some children, because sometimes, when she goes with her mother to one of the towers, she hears children’s voices,’ said Pedro, laughing. ‘And she says that no one but Madame Tatiosa and Count Paritolen go right into that tower. She says it is very mysterious, but that no one must know, because when she told her mother what she had heard, her mother threatened her with a sound whipping for making up stories.’

‘I see,’ said Jack. ‘Does she know which tower this is? Could she show us from where we stand now?’

‘You don’t want to believe a word she says, Jack!’ said Pedro. ‘She is a babbler, a storyteller, our little Hela!’

‘Ask her, all the same,’ said Jack, in such an insistent voice that Pedro did what he asked. Hela gazed up at the great stone castle. She pointed to the tower on the south side.

‘That one,’ she said, in a half-whisper to Pedro, and Jack understood, although she used Hessian words. She put her finger on her lip again to make sure that Jack and Pedro understood that they mustn’t give her away.

Jack took her to buy some sweets. He wished intensely that he could speak the language of the country, but although he had picked up quite a few words—though apparently not so many as Kiki had!—it was impossible to hold any sensible kind of conversation with the scatterbrained Hela.

She chattered away to him and he didn’t understand a word. He bought her the sweets and she flung her arms round him and hugged him. Then she ran off at top speed to show the sweets to her friends.

The camp was soon ready. The circus was to open the following evening. Jack had been very busy indeed, and was tired. But he was determined, quite determined that he was going to prowl round the foot of the great castle that night. Should he ask Pedro to go with him? No—it might be awkward to have Pedro there, if he did manage to get into touch with Philip and the others. He would have to explain everything to Pedro, and he didn’t quite know how the circus-boy would take his news.

Ma called out something to Pedro as he and Jack went to her van to get their evening meal. Pedro listened, and looked grave.

‘What’s up?’ asked Jack.

‘It’s Fank, the bear-trainer,’ said Pedro. ‘He’s feeling ill again. The Boss is very worried.’

‘Why?’ asked Jack. ‘It will only mean that the bears don’t perform, won’t it? Anyway, Fank may be better by tomorrow.’

‘It’s a great loss to the circus when a big attraction like Fank’s bears is taken off,’ said Pedro. ‘But there’s worse to it than that. No one can manage those bears but Fank. They get quite out of hand when he’s ill—won’t let their cage be cleaned out—won’t eat—fight one another. Once they even broke down their cage and got out. Fank had to crawl out of his bed in his caravan and somehow get them back. But it nearly killed him!’

‘Poor Fank,’ said Jack. ‘Well, let’s hope he is all right again by tomorrow. I don’t particularly want great bears like that breaking down their cage and wandering about the camp, I must say. Fank’s a wonder with them—I’ve watched him. He teases them and plays with them—and they fawn round him like dogs!’

‘Not many people can manage animals as Fank can,’ said Pedro. ‘He had lions once—and two tigers—trained them all by himself. Then he suddenly said they didn’t like performing and sold them to a Zoo. And yet they were the best-trained lions and tigers in the world!’

‘And now he’s got bears,’ said Jack. ‘He must love animals very much, and they must love him. There are other people like that, Pedro. I know a boy who can do anything with animals, too.’ He was thinking of Philip, of course.

‘Ever tried his hand with lions, or tigers or bears?’ asked Pedro. ‘No? I thought not! I bet they wouldn’t eat out of his hand. Cats and dogs and rats and mice and other creatures are easy to do what you like with—but not the big animals—the bears and the great cats!’

‘No, I suppose not,’ said Jack, thinking that Philip had never had the chance to work his magic on great creatures like those. ‘Well—I hope Fank will be better tomorrow. I wouldn’t like the job of cleaning out the bears’ cage, I must say. I’d be afraid of their claws in my back the whole time!’

Jack did not go to sleep as quickly as he usually did, when he lay down on his mattress in Pedro’s caravan. He didn’t mean to. He was going to explore all round the foot of Borken Castle. He had bought a torch in the town that day. He didn’t quite know what good he would do, wandering round in the dark—but it was the only thing he could think of. He had to do something!

He slid off the mattress as soon as he heard Pedro breathing deeply. He didn’t want to wake him. He went out of the van, holding his clothes. He put them on in the darkness, and then, with the surprised Kiki on his shoulder, he set off to the castle hill.

If only he could speak to the others! If only he could make sure they were still all right!

Chapter 18

UP TO THE CASTLE!

Jack went stealthily out of the camp. All was quiet. There was no lamp or candle alight in any of the vans. The circus-folk were tired out with setting up camp again, and had gone to bed early, in readiness for their grand opening the next day.

It was a starry night, with no moon, so there was not much light. It was not pitch-dark, however, and Jack did not need to use his torch, once his eyes had got used to the darkness. The stars gave a faint light, just enough for him to avoid falling over anything.

He went up the slope of the hill where the camp was placed. He came to a low castle wall. He shone his torch here and there, and found a place he thought he could climb, where the stones were rough and uneven.

His rubber shoes helped him a good deal. He wished he had rubber gloves on his hands, too, so that his fingers would not slip on the stones as he tried to grasp them!

He was over at last. He looked round cautiously, not daring to put on his torch. He seemed to be in a small courtyard. He strained his eyes. He could make out the great bulk of the castle easily. It rose up high, towering about him, solid and strong. He despaired of ever getting inside—or even of getting in touch with Philip and the others!

He crept quietly over the courtyard, stumbling now and again over an uneven stone. He suddenly walked into something that scared him tremendously, and made Kiki give a frightened squawk.

Something wrapped itself round his head! What was it? In a panic Jack tore at it, and ran forward. But something flapped at him again, and covered his whole face. Desperately Jack switched his torch on and off for a moment, to see what was attacking him.

When he saw what it was, he gave a laugh of relief, and felt very silly. He had walked into a line of washing! A sheet had ‘attacked’ him, that was all—and the thing that had wrapped itself round his head was a jersey.

A jersey! Jack stopped. A jersey—such things were not worn in Tauri-Hessia. He stepped back and flashed his torch on again. Yes—it was either Lucy-Ann’s or Dinah’s. There was no doubt of it. So they definitely were there. Good, good, good! They were quite near him, somewhere. If only, only he could get to them.

He stood and considered. If the children were held in secret, then it was strange that their clothes should be washed and hung out on a line. People would see them and be surprised. Perhaps this courtyard was an enclosed space—a secret yard where nobody came, except possibly Madame Tatiosa. Would she wash the clothes though? She might, if she didn’t want anyone to know about the children.

Perhaps Hela’s mother was in the secret too? Perhaps she washed for the children, cooked their meals and so on? Somebody would have to do that.

There must be a way into the castle from this little yard—possibly a back-way into the kitchen or wash-houses. Jack went towards the great walls of the castle and flashed his torch up and down. He would have to risk being seen by someone! He would never find out anything if he didn’t use his torch now and again.

There was a small wash-house there, as he had expected. He tried the door. It was locked. He shone his torch in at the window and saw coppers and pails and washing-baskets. Yes, that was where the washing was done. What a pity the washerwoman had remembered to lock the door!

Jack looked at the little wash-house. It was built out from the castle wall. He flashed his torch to the roof of the wash-house—and then higher up. He saw something that made his heart jump in excitement!

There was a window not far above the wash-house roof—and as far as Jack could see it had no glass in it at all! It was a very old, narrow window and might never have had any glass, he thought.

‘Now, let me think carefully!’ he said to himself. ‘If I could get up on that wash-house roof—and then up to that window—I’d be inside the castle at once, and could look for the others. But how can I get up to the roof? I really don’t think I can climb it, though it isn’t very high.’

He couldn’t. It was just too high for him to jump and catch hold of the guttering to pull himself up. There was no pipe he could climb up, either. Nothing at all.

‘A ladder,’ thought Jack, desperately. ‘If only I could find a ladder.’

He began to hunt round, feeling rather hopeless. Kiki sat still on his shoulder, puzzled. She knew she must not make a sound, but she longed to, especially when a bat came swooping near her.

Jack went carefully round the yard. It wasn’t very big. He came to a small shed. It was not locked, only latched. He opened the door carefully, horrified at the squeak it made, and flashed his torch inside.

Wonder of wonders! There was a ladder there! Jack could hardly believe his eyes. He went over to it. It was very old, and some of its rungs were missing—but it might do. It just might do! Anyway, he would try it.

He pulled it out of the shed, upsetting a can of some sort as he did so. The noise echoed round the yard, sounding extraordinarily loud. Jack halted, holding his breath. He quite expected to see lights flashing up in every window.

But none came. Everything was still and dark. He heaved a sigh of relief. Perhaps nobody had heard the noise after all—or perhaps nobody slept on that side of the castle.

He carried the ladder over to the wash-house. It was not very heavy, because it wasn’t very long. Still, it would be long enough, he was sure.

He set it up against the wash-house. It reached almost to the roof. He flashed his torch at the rungs to make sure which were missing. Then he put his torch into his pocket, and with Kiki flying round his head in excitement, he began to climb.

It certainly was a very old ladder! One of the rungs he trod on almost gave way. He hurriedly missed it and put his foot up to the next. He was very thankful when at last he was at the top.

Now to pull himself on to the roof. He managed to get there with a scraped knee and sat panting. Now for the next step—to get to the window above, in the castle wall itself.

The roof of the wash-house was flattish, and Jack was able to make his way on all fours. He came to the wall. He stood up cautiously, feeling it with his hands, and then used his torch again.

‘Blow! The window’s just too high for me to pull myself up,’ thought Jack, in deep disappointment. ‘I can reach the sill with my hands—but can’t get enough hold to pull up my body.’