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Authors: Enid Blyton

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fiction, #General, #Action & Adventure

The Circus of Adventure (21 page)

BOOK: The Circus of Adventure
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‘There’s a hole in one of the walls of the conference room—at least, I think it must be a conference room,’ said Jack, suddenly excited. ‘I saw a round table, and chairs, and writing-pads and pencils all set out. If we could get up to that room, and look through the hole, we might see something interesting—and hear something too!’

‘We might,’ agreed Bill. ‘Come on—let’s get going. Into the bell-tower we go! Where’s that trap-door you told us about?’

They were soon in the bell-tower. Jack searched about for the trap-door. He found it, and Bill pulled it open. Down they went into the little cellar below. Bill pulled the trap-door shut behind him.

‘Lead the way, Jack,’ he said, and flashed on an extremely powerful torch. With a jump Jack saw that both men now carried revolvers too. Gosh—this might be a serious business then!

‘This way,’ said Jack, and stepped over the junk in the underground hole. ‘Better be as quiet as we can. Now—through here!’

 

 

Chapter 28

TO BORKEN CASTLE AGAIN!

 

Jack clambered through the round hole at the other end of the little cellar. He was now in the very narrow, low-roofed passage he remembered so well, because he had had to walk through it with his head well bent. He led Bill and Ronnie up the steeply sloping way, lit by Bill’s powerful torch.

Jack stopped when they came to the top of the long, sloping passage. ‘We’re very near the room where the spy-hole is,’ he whispered. ‘If there is a conference being held—or some sort of meeting—we’ll be able to look through the hole at it—or you will, Bill, because as far as I know there’s only one hole.’

‘Let me know when we come to it,’ whispered Bill, and they went on again. In a short while Jack saw a little beam of light coming from the side of the right-hand wall—that must be the spy-hole!

He whispered to Bill. Bill saw the beam of light and nodded. There was not room for him to get in front of Jack, so the boy went on past the little spy-hole, and let Bill stand by it behind him. Ronnie was by Bill, quite silent. Kiki had been tapped on the beak, so she knew she was to be quiet too.

Bill glued his eye to the spy-hole. He saw the same room that Jack had seen—a room with a round table, chairs pulled up to it, and writing materials on the table.

But now there were lights blazing in the room—and every chair at the table was filled. At the top sat Count Paritolen. Beside him sat his sister, Madame Tatiosa. On his other side sat someone else, whom Bill knew from photographs—the Prime Minister, husband of Madame Tatiosa. He looked ill-at-ease and grave. Men in military uniform were also round the table.

At the bottom of the table stood a tall man, with a great likeness to Gussy—his uncle, the King! Bill heaved a sigh of relief. So he hadn’t been killed. Well, that was one good thing at any rate. If only he could be got away, things could be put right very quickly, and civil war would be avoided.

Bill strained his ears to hear what was going on. He could not hear very well, behind the wooden panelling, but he heard enough to know what was happening.

The King was being urged to abdicate—to leave his throne, go into retirement, and let Gussy—the Prince Aloysius—rule in his stead.

‘If you will not sign this document of abdication, then it will be the worse for you,’ finished Count Paritolen. ‘You will, I fear, not be heard of again.’

Bill followed this with difficulty, for he did not speak Tauri-Hessian well. He had, in fact, only tried to learn it when he knew he might have to go to the country. But he had no doubt that that was what the Count was saying.

The Prime Minister said something in protest, but the Count would not listen. Madame Tatiosa made a short, angry speech and sat down. The King bowed, and then spoke in such a low voice that Bill couldn’t hear a word.

‘Very well,’ said the Count. ‘You may have tonight to make up your mind—tonight only. We will adjourn this meeting.’

He stood up and so did everyone else. The Count went out with his sister and the Prime Minister. The King followed, closely hemmed in by four men. He looked sad and worried.

The lights in the conference room dimmed, and there was silence. Bill turned to Ronnie and repeated rapidly what he had seen and what he thought had happened.

‘As far as I can make out the King’s got tonight to think things over. If he says no, he won’t give up the throne, that’s the end of him. I think he will say no.’

There was a silence behind the wooden panelling for a moment or two. Bill debated with himself. Could he get back to the capital of Tauri-Hessia, tell what he had seen, and bring men to rescue the King?

No—there wouldn’t be time—the capital town was too far off. There was only one sure thing to do—and that was to see if he himself could get the King away.

He whispered this to Jack. The boy nodded. ‘Yes. If only we knew where he was going to be tonight! He won’t be put into the tower-room, I’m sure. They’d be afraid he’d escape too, like Gussie. Let’s go to the ball room, where that moving picture hangs—we might be able to shove it aside and get into the room.’

He led the way again—up some very steep steps, up and up. Then round a sharp corner and into a narrow, dark passage running just inside the walls of the rooms, but a little below the level of the floor. Then came a small flight of steps, and Jack paused.

‘These are the steps that lead up to that picture,’ he whispered. ‘You must see if you can find out how to move it away from the hole, Bill—it slides right away from it, keeping level with the wall.’

Bill and Ronnie began to feel about all over the place. Bill suddenly found a knob. Ah—this must be it! A pull at this might set the mechanism working that moved the picture away, and left a hole in its place.

He listened carefully. No noise came from the room within. Well—he’d have to risk it, anyhow. Bill pulled the knob.

Nothing happened. He twisted it. Still nothing happened. Then he pushed it—and it gave beneath his hand.

Then came a slight scraping noise, and it seemed to Bill as if part of the wall was disappearing! But it was only the picture moving to one side, leaving a hole almost as large as itself—the secret entrance to the ballroom!

There was very little light in the big room—merely a dim glow from a lamp whose wick had been turned down. Bill peered out.

‘No one here,’ he whispered to the others. ‘We’ll get into the room while we can.’

He climbed out of the hole and jumped lightly to the floor. The others followed. Their rubber shoes made no sound.

‘We’d better just go and see if the King has been put into the tower-room,’ whispered Jack. ‘I’ll go. I know the way. You stay here—behind these curtains.’

He sped into the anteroom, and saw the spiral stairway. He stopped and listened. No sound anywhere. He ran up the steps quietly and came to the little landing. He flashed his torch on the door that led into the room where Philip and the others had been imprisoned.

It was wide open! The room beyond was dark, too, so it was plain that the King was not imprisoned there. Jack went down again.

He tiptoed to the curtains behind which Bill and Ronnie were hiding. ‘No good,’ he whispered. ‘The door’s wide open. He’s not there.’

‘Listen!’ said Bill, suddenly. ‘I can hear something!’

They listened. It was the clump-clump of marching feet. They came nearer and nearer. It sounded like two or three people. Bill peeped round the side of the curtain when the sound had passed by.

‘Two soldiers,’ he whispered. ‘They must have gone to relieve two others on guard somewhere—and who should they be guarding but the King? We’ll wait and see if two others come back this way, then we shall know the first two have gone on guard somewhere—and we’ll explore down that passage, where the first two went.’

‘When I was here before, the sentry on guard kept disappearing down there,’ said Jack, remembering. ‘It’s a kind of sentry-beat, I think. Perhaps the King has been taken down there and locked into a cell.’

‘Listen!’ said Ronnie. Back came marching feet again and two different sentries went by smartly in the opposite direction from the others, and disappeared. The three could hear the sound of their feet for some time, and then no more.

‘Now!’ said Bill. ‘And keep your ears open and your eyes skinned too.’

They all went down the dark passage where the two first sentries had gone. Right down to the end—round a sharp-angled turn, and down a few steps—along a narrower passage, and round another turn. But here they stopped. They could hear marching feet again—coming nearer!

There was a room opening off near where the three stood. Bill pushed open the door and the three went into it hurriedly. It was quite dark. Bill switched his torch on for a moment and they saw that it was a kind of box-room. The sentries passed right by it, went a good way up the passage and then, stamp-stamp, they turned and came back again.

Bill listened to their feet marching. They seemed to go a long way down the passage, a long, long way, before they turned to come back. ‘I should think the King must be locked up somewhere about the middle of their sentry-go,’ said Bill. ‘We’ll let them come up here once more, and when they have gone right past us, up to the other end of their beat, we’ll slip down here and explore a bit. We can always go and hide beyond the other end of their walk, if we hear them coming back.’

The sentries came marching back, passed the three hidden in the little box-room again, and Went on to the end of their beat. Bill, Ronnie and Jack slipped quickly out of the box-room and ran lightly down the passage. They turned a corner and came to a dead-end. A stout door faced them, well and truly bolted—and locked too, as Bill found when he tried to open it!

‘Sssst!’ said Ronnie, suddenly, and pulled them back into a dark corner. Bill and Jack wondered what had scared him—then they saw!

A door was opening silently opposite to them—a door they hadn’t seen because it was part of the panelling itself. Someone came through carrying a lamp. It was the Count Paritolen. Had he come to kill the King? Or to try once more to persuade him to give up his throne?

Bill saw something else. He saw what the Count was holding—a big key! The key to the King’s room, no doubt!

The Count heard the sentries coming back and went back through the hidden door, closing it softly. He evidently meant to wait till the sentries had come up and then had gone back again.

‘Ronnie,’ said Bill, his mouth close to his friend’s ear, ‘we get that key, do you understand? And we get the Count too. Will you tackle him while I open the door and find out if the King’s there? He mustn’t make any noise.’

‘He won’t,’ said Ronnie, grimly. The sentries came right up, and then turned, stamp-stamp, and went back again. As soon as they had turned the first corner, the hidden door opened again, and the Count stepped through swiftly, lamp in one hand, key in the other.

Everything happened so quickly then that Jack was bewildered. He heard an exclamation from the Count, and then he saw Bill running to the door with the key, and Ronnie dragging the Count hurriedly back through the hidden door. The lamp went out. There was complete silence.

Ronnie came back and switched on his torch. He saw Bill unlocking the door and pulling back bolts. ‘I found a nice little cell back there,’ he said, jerking his head towards the door. ‘Just right for the Count. He’s tied up and he can shout the place down if he likes—nobody can hear him in that room!’

‘Good work,’ said Bill. ‘Blow these bolts—there are half a dozen of them! We’ll have the sentries back here before we know where we are!’

Ronnie blew out the passage lamp that shone near the door. ‘Don’t want the sentries to see the bolts are drawn!’ he said. ‘Buck up, Bill. They’re coming back. Jack and I will wait here—just in case there’s trouble with the sentries. Do buck up!’

 

 

Chapter 29

AN EXCITING TIME

 

Bill at last got the door open and went in. A shaft of light shone out from the room at once. Ronnie shut the door quickly. Jack found that his heart was beginning to thump again. Those sentries—would they come back before Bill had got the King?

The door opened again, but this time no shaft of light showed. Bill had turned out the lamp inside the room. Someone was with him—the King. Oh, good! thought Jack.

The sentries were coming back. Their feet could be clearly heard. Bill hurried the King across to the hidden door, opened it and pushed him through. Ronnie followed, and then Jack.

Just in time! ‘Do you suppose they’ll see the door is unbolted?’ said Jack. ‘You didn’t have time to bolt it.’

‘We’ll soon know!’ said Bill. ‘I’m afraid they will notice it—it’s their job to check up on that, I’m sure.’

Jack suddenly gave a little cry. ‘Kiki! Where is she? She was on my shoulder a minute ago, now she’s gone. I never felt her fly off in my excitement. Oh, Bill—she must be out there in the passage somewhere.’

She was—and she was very much annoyed to find that Jack seemed to have disappeared. Where was he? She could hear the sentries coming nearer and nearer, and the sound of their clump-clump-clumping annoyed her.

She flew up to a jutting-out stone in the wall, and when the two men marched just below her, she hooted long and loud.

‘HOOOOOO! HOOO-HOOO-HOOO!’

The sound of marching feet stopped abruptly. One of the men said something quickly to the other in a frightened voice.

Kiki yapped like a dog and then snarled. It sounded most extraordinary in that dark, echoing passage. The men looked all round. Where was the dog?

‘Mee-ow-ow-ow!’ wailed Kiki, like a hungry cat, and then went off into a cackle of laughter.

‘Wipe your feet, blow your nose, pop goes the weasel, pop-pop-pop!’

The men didn’t understand a word, of course, but that frightened them all the more. They clutched each other, feeling the hairs on their head beginning to prickle in fright.

Kiki coughed and cleared her throat in a remarkably human way. Why that should have put the two sentries into an absolute panic she couldn’t guess! But it certainly did, and, casting their rifles away, they fled down the passage at top speed, howling out something in their own language.

BOOK: The Circus of Adventure
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