Chapter Twenty-two

ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL!

Morgan would not let the children stay underground any longer.
“We have things to do,” he said, in his deep voice, which sounded rather hoarse now. “You will go back to the farm and telephone to the police for me. You will say ‘Morgan has won’ and tell them to send a boat to the little creek I have already told them of. There I will bring these men all the way down the tunnel to the sea. Go now, at once. Obey me this time, boy.”
“Yes, sir,” said Julian. This man was a hero! And he had thought him a villain! He was ready to obey his smallest command now. Then a thought struck him, and he turned back.
“The old woman,” he said. “Mrs. Thomas - that man’s mother. What about her? And we’ve locked the caretaker up in his room!”
“You will not do anything but go to the farm and telephone,” said Morgan, sternly. “I will do everything there is to be done. Take Aily with you to the farm. She must not be here. Now go.”
And Julian went! He and the others took one last look round at the men, all pinioned by the dogs, lying still and panic-stricken. Then, with Aily and her lamb and dog, he led the others up the tunnel again, and at last back into the cellars.
“I don’t like leaving that old lady up there, in the tower,” said Dick.
“No. But obviously Morgan has his plans,” said Julian, who was not going to disobey orders in any way this time. “I expect he has arranged something with the police. We can’t interfere now. We messed things up a bit, I’m afraid.”
They climbed soberly up to the place where they had left their toboggans. It took them some time, and they were beginning to feel very hungry. But Julian wouldn’t let them stop even to eat some sandwiches.
“No,” he said. “I’ve to telephone to the police as soon as ever I can. No stopping now! We’ll munch our sandwiches on the way down to the farm.”
It wasn’t very dificult to get out of the pot-hole, for they had left the ropes dangling down. Julian and Dick helped the two girls up by pushing them, and they in turn helped to pull up the boys from the top of the hole.
Aily scrambled up easily, swinging delightedly on a rope, and then flinging herself out of the hole. The lamb leapt up in a miraculous manner, and Julian handed Dave to the small girl.
Timmy was hauled up in the same way as he had been let down. He had badly wanted to stay with the other dogs - but nothing would make him leave George!
“Well, that’s that,” said Julian, scrambling out last of all. “Now, let’s see. We could toboggan down this slope, and half-way up our own slope. That would save a lot of time. Aily, you’re to come with us to the farm.”
“No,” said Aily.
“Yes, Aily bach,” said Julian. “I want you to.” He took her small hand in his and she smiled her sudden little smile, quite content to go along with this big kind boy, even though she was afraid of going down to the farm for fear she should meet her mother.
“Aily good girl,” said Julian, setting the little thing on his toboggan. “Aily shall have big piece of chocolate at the farm!”
They tobogganed down the slope at a great speed without any mishap, and half-way up the opposite slope. It seemed queer to be out in the dazzling daylight after the dark tunnels underground. Their adventure below began to seem slightly unreal!
“We’ll leave the toboggans at the hut,” said Julian, as they dragged them up the rest of the slope. “Anyone thirsty? I am. I think it must be something to do with that mine - my mouth got as dry as anything as soon as we were down there.”
Everyone said the same.
“I’ll run into the hut and pour out some orangeade,” said Anne. “You stack the toboggans in their place, Ju, and just see if there’s enough oil in the can out in the bunker - we’ll need to fill the stove tonight. And if there isn’t enough we must bring some up with us.”
Julian gave her the key of the hut and she unlocked it and went in with George. They poured orangeade into five cups, and drank thirstily. Their mouths were drier than they had ever been before! Anne felt thankful that she didn’t have to wait any longer for a drink.
“I think the roof of my mouth would have stuck to my tongue!” she said, putting down her cup. “That was lovely!”
“There’s plenty of oil,” reported Julian, coming to drink his orangeade. “My word - I needed this. I’d not like to work down in that mine.”
They locked the hut and set off down to the farm, munching their sandwiches hungrily. They tasted very good indeed, and even Aily asked for one after another. Timmy had his share, and once they missed him, and had to stop and call him.
“Has he lost his bit of meat in the snow?” wondered Anne. But no - he, like the rest of them, was suffering from a very dry mouth and was busy licking the snow, letting it melt in his mouth and trickle down his dry throat!
Mrs. Jones was most surprised to see them. When she heard Julian’s request to telephone to the police, she looked worried.
“It’s all right, Mrs. Jones,” said Julian, comfortingly. “It’s a message to them from Morgan. Everything is fine. We’ll tell you what’s happened as soon as he comes home. He might not like us to say anything till then!”
The police did not seem at all surprised to hear Julian’s message - they appeared to be expecting it!
“We will see to the matter,” said the sergeant, in his deep, stolid voice. “Thank you.” And he rang off at once. Julian wondered what would happen next - what had Morgan arranged?
They were pleased to see Mrs. Jones bringing in bowls of hot chicken soup, as they sat talking round the wood fire she had hurriedly lighted in the living-room.
“Oh! Just what we feel like!” said Anne, gratefully. “I’m still awfully thirsty - aren’t you, George? And look, Timmy - there’s a nice meaty bone for you! You are kind, Mrs. Jones!”
“You know - I feel pretty awful about all this now,” said Julian. “We shouldn’t have interfered after Morgan said we weren’t to. I wish we hadn’t. He can’t think much of us!”
“I vote we all apologise humbly,” said Dick. “How could we have thought he was the villain of the piece? I know he’s dour and silent - but he didn’t look mean or cruel.”
“We’d better stay down here at the farm till Morgan comes back,” said George. “Quite apart from wanting to say I’m sorry, I’d like to know what happened!”
“So would I,” said Anne. “And Aily ought to wait for her father. He’ll want to know that she’s safe.”
So they asked Mrs. Jones if they could stay till Morgan came home. She was delighted.
“Of course, now,” she said. “We’ve a roasting turkey today - and you shall come and sup with us in our room for a change!”
This all sounded rather good. The children gathered round their fire to talk, and Timmy rested his head on George’s knee. She looked at his neck.
“That man almost choked him,” she said. “Oh look, Julian - he’s bruised all round his poor neck!”
“Now don’t start moaning over Timmy’s neck again, for goodness’ sake!” said Dick. “Honestly, George, I’m sure Tim thinks the adventure was worth a bruised neck! He’s not grumbling. He was jolly brave, I think - and didn’t he enjoy himself when the other dogs rushed into the cave, and he joined in the fight!”
“I wonder what they’ll do about that poor old woman,” said Anne. “She will be glad her son is alive, I suppose - but what a shock for her to know he’s lied to her, and sold what is really hers - that strange metal under the hill!”
“Well - I imagine it won’t be allowed to be sold now,” said Julian. “What a plan that was! To get men up that tunnel to mine the stuff - and to send it down by rafts to waiting ships, hidden in that creek. We ought to go down and examine the creek - it would be interesting to see what sort of a place it is down there. It must be well hidden in a fold of the cliff, I should think.”
“Yes - let’s do that tomorrow,” said George, thrilled. “I vote we stay here tonight. I feel tired after such an adventure! Don’t you?”
“I do a bit,” said Julian. “Well - I suppose there won’t be quite so much shuddering and shimmering and rumbling now! Funny that that hill should always have been so queer, isn’t it - ‘ploughs that will not plough, spades that will not dig!’ Must be some kind of iron, I suppose, that magnetises things. Oh well - it’s all beyond me!”
Morgan came back with the shepherd when it was dark. Julian went straight up to the burly farmer.
“We want to apologise for being such idiots,” he said. “We shouldn’t have interfered after what you said.”
Morgan gave a broad smile. He seemed to be in a very good humour indeed.
“Forget it, boy,” he said. “All’s well now. The police came up the river tunnel, and all the men are safe in jail. Llewellyn Thomas is a sad man tonight. His mother is free and is staying with friends - poor lady, she doesn’t understand what has happened, and that is as well. And maybe now the right people will get that strange metal - it’s worth a hundred times its weight in gold!”
“Come you in to your supper, Morgan bach, and shepherd too!” said Mrs. Jones, in her lilting voice. “The children too are coming. We’ve a roasting turkey - it’s your birthday, Morgan boy!”
“Well there now, I didn’t know it!” said Morgan and gave his mother such a hug that she squealed. “Let’s go in to the turkey. I’ve had nothing all day.”
Soon they were all sitting down before the most enormous turkey that the children had ever seen in their lives! Morgan carved it swiftly. Then he said something to his mother in Welsh and she smiled and nodded.
“Yes, you do that,” she said.
Morgan collected some slices of turkey on a big enamel dish, and then went to the door that led from the living-room into the farmyard. He roared loudly and the children jumped. What a voice!
“DAI! TANG! BOB! DOON! JOLL! RAFE! HAL!”
“He’s calling the dogs,” said Anne. “Just as he called them up the tunnel. Well - they certainly deserve a good dinner!”
Then down to the door came the seven dogs, jostling each other, barking excitedly. Morgan threw them the slices of turkey, and they gobbled the tasty bits up greedily.
“Woof!” said Timmy politely from behind him, and Morgan turned. He solemnly cut a big slice and a little slice.
“Here!” he said to Timmy and Dave. “You did well too! Catch!”
“There’ll not be much left of your birthday turkey!” said his mother, half-cross, half-amused. “Now fill your glasses again, children, and we will drink to my Morgan - a better son there never was!”
Anne poured home-made lemonade into the empty glasses, while Morgan sat and smiled, listening to his seven dogs still barking together outside.
“Happy birthday, happy birthday! ” shouted everyone, raising their glasses, and Julian added his own few words.
“Happy birthday, sir - and may your voice NEVER grow less!”