Chapter Seven
UP ON THE GOLF-COURSE

The children walked round the golf-course together, after talking to old Lucas. ‘We must keep out of the way of anyone playing,’ said Dick, ‘or we might get hit on the head with a ball! Hey, Timmy, what are you doing in the bracken?’
Timmy came out with something in his mouth. He dropped it at George’s feet. It was a golf-ball, fairly new. George picked it up. ‘What do we do with this?’ she said. ‘There’s no golfer near us. It must be a lost ball.’
‘Well, all balls lost on golf-courses should be taken in to the pro,’ said Julian. ‘By right they belong to him if found on the course.’
‘What’s a pro?’ asked Anne.
‘A professional golfer - a man who’s very very good at the game, and is in charge of a golf-course,’ explained Julian. ‘Well I’m blessed - here comes old Tim again with another ball. Timmy, we ought to hire you out to golfers who keep losing their balls - you’d save them no end of trouble!’
Timmy was pleased to be patted and praised. He set off into the rough again at once, sniping here and there.
‘Anyone would think that golf-balls smelt like rabbits or something, the way Timmy sniffs them out!’ said Anne, as Timmy ran up with yet another ball. ‘My word, golfers must be jolly careless, losing so many balls!’
They went on round the course, which was set with great stretches of gorse, full of brilliant blossom. A baby rabbit fled from the bracken as Timmy nosed there for balls. Timmy chased it, and the frightened little creature dodged this way and that, trying to escape. ‘Let it go, Tim, let it go!’ yelled George, but Timmy was much too excited to pay any attention.
Wilfrid suddenly bent down as the rabbit raced near him, and gave a curious low whistle. The rabbit swerved, came straight towards him, and leapt into his arms, lying there trembling. Timmy jumped up to it at once, but George dragged him away.
‘NO, Timmy. Sorry, but NO, you can’t have the little thing. Down! DOWN, I say!’
Timmy gave George a disgusted look, and pattered off into the bracken, nosing for balls again. He was very cross with George. Rabbits were meant to be chased, weren’t they? Why did George have to spoil his fun?
George stared at Wilfrid. The rabbit was still nestling in his arms, and he was making a curious noise to it. The tiny thing was trembling from head to tail. Everyone watched it, glad that it was safe. They were all silent, astonished at the way that Wilfrid had rescued the little creature. How had the rabbit known that Wilfrid’s arms were ready to save it?
He took it to the bracken, dropped it gently, and watched it race like lightning to the nearest burrow. Then he turned and patted Timmy, who stood silently by, watching.
‘Sorry, Tim,’ he said. ‘It’s so little, and you’re so big!’
‘Woof,’ said Tim, exactly as if he understood, and he gave Wilfrid’s hand a quick lick. Then he pranced round the boy, barking, as if he wanted a game, and Wilfrid raced off with him at top speed.
The others followed, impressed once again by Wilfrid’s uncanny way with animals. He was such a horrid little boy in some ways - so rude, so mannerless, so selfish - then how was it that animals liked him so much? George frowned. She thought it was all wrong that animals should love Wilfrid and go to him - why, even Timmy was all over him! If she wasn’t careful he would spend more time with Wilfrid than with her! That would never do!
Timmy found five more balls, and soon Julian’s pockets were heavy with them. They made their way to the small club-house in the distance, meaning to give in the balls. It was set in a little dip, and looked friendly and welcoming. They all went in at the door, and Julian walked over to the pro, who was checking some score-cards. He emptied his pockets of balls and grinned. ‘A present from our dog!’ he said.
‘My word - did he find all those?’ said the pro, pleased. ‘Not bad ones, either. I’ll stand you all some lemonade or orangeade - which will you have?’
They all had orangeade, and the pro sent a packet of biscuits to Timmy, who was waiting patiently outside. He was delighted!
‘We’re staying in that little cottage up on the hillside,’ said Dick. ‘Do you know it?’
‘Course I do!’ said the pro. ‘My grandmother lived there once upon a time. You’ve a wonderful view there, haven’t you? One of the finest in the world, I reckon! You can see Whispering Island from there, too. Ought to be called “Mystery Island”! It’s said that folks have gone there, and never come back!’
‘What happened to them?’ asked Anne.
‘Oh well - maybe it’s all a tale!’ said the pro. ‘There’s supposed to be priceless things there, packed away somewhere - and collectors from all over the world have come here, and tried to get over to that island - not to steal, you understand, but just to see if they could find anything worth-while and buy it for museums - or maybe for their own collections. It’s said there are statues in the wood, white as snow - but that I never did believe!’
‘And didn’t the collectors ever come back?’ asked Julian.
‘It’s said that a lot of them didn’t,’ said the pro, ‘but that may be all silly tales. But I do know that two men came down here from some museum in London, and hired a boat to go across. They took a white flag with them so that the two keepers wouldn’t shoot at them - and after that nobody heard a word about them. They just disappeared!’
‘Well - what could have happened to them?’ asked Julian.
‘Nobody knows,’ said the pro. ‘Their boat was found miles out to sea, drifting - and empty. So the police reckoned a mist came down, they lost direction, and ended by drifting way out to sea.’
‘But did they jump out of their boat, and try to swim back - and get drowned?’ asked Dick. ‘Or did a passing steamer or yacht save them?’
‘They weren’t picked up, that’s certain,’ said the pro. ‘Else they’d have arrived safely back at their homes, sometime or other. But they didn’t. No - I reckon the poor fellows were drowned. Of course, maybe they were shot by the keepers, when they tried to land, and their boat was set adrift!’
‘Didn’t the police do anything?’ asked Julian, puzzled.
‘Oh yes - they went across to the island in the coastguard patrol boat,’ said the pro. ‘But the keepers swore they’d seen nobody arriving, and that they were the only people on the place. The police landed and searched everywhere, and they found nothing except the great white castle-like house in the woods and hundreds of wild animals, so tame that they’d sit and watch you as you walked by.’
‘All very mysterious,’ said Julian, getting up. ‘Well, thanks for the welcome orangeade, and for your information! We’d already heard a bit from a groundsman of yours - Lucas - a real old countryman, and a born story-teller!’
‘Ah, Lucas - yes, he knows that island well,’ said the pro. ‘He was once one of the keepers, I believe! Well - come and see me again some time - thanks for the balls. It isn’t everyone who’s honest enough to come and give them in when they find them!’
They all said good-bye and went out. Timmy pranced along in joy. Sitting down outside the clubhouse didn’t suit him at all!
‘Did you enjoy your biscuits, Tim?’ asked George, and he ran up and gave her hand a quick lick. What a question! He always enjoyed biscuits! He ran off into the bracken and began to nose about there again, hunting for balls.
The others went to walk up the hill, talking about the island. ‘I wonder what really did happen to those two collector men who were never heard of again,’ said Anne. ‘Funny that their boat was found adrift and empty.’
‘They must have been drowned, of course,’ said Dick. ‘I wonder if anything is left of the old treasures that were once taken there. No - there wouldn’t be - the police would have made a very thorough search!’
‘I wish we could go to the island!’ said George. ‘I don’t expect the keepers would shoot at us, would they? They might even let us on, to make a change for them - they must be so bored with only themselves to talk to.’
‘That’s very wishful thinking, George,’ said Julian. ‘We are CERTAINLY not going near the island, so put that right out of your head.’
‘Well - I knew it was impossible, really,’ said George. ‘But wouldn’t it be a grand adventure if we managed to get on the mysterious Whispering Island and explore it without the keepers knowing!’
‘Not such a grand adventure if we were all peppered with shot from the keepers’ guns!’ said Dick. ‘Anyway, we wouldn’t find anything of interest - the treasures must have been removed long ago. The only possible things of interest would be the very tame wild creatures there! Wilfrid would go mad with joy - wouldn’t you Wilfrid?’
‘I’d like it very much,’ said the boy, his eyes shining. ‘What’s more, I might hire a boat myself and row round the island to see if I could spot any animals there.’
‘You’ll do nothing of the sort!’ said Julian, at once. ‘So don’t try any silly tricks, see?’
‘I shan’t promise!’ said Wilfrid, irritatingly. ‘You just never know!’
‘Oh yes, I do know! You’re just trying to sound big!’ said Julian. ‘Come along quickly, everyone - it’s past our dinner-time, and I’m ravenous! What’s for lunch, Anne?’
‘We’ll open a tin of tongue,’ said Anne, ‘and there’s plenty of bread left, and lettuce, which I left in water. And tomatoes. And heaps of fruit.’
‘Sounds good!’ said George. ‘Dinner, Timmy, dinner!’
And, hearing that welcome word, Timmy shot up the steep hill at top speed, his tail waving joyously.
‘Wish I was a dog and could tear up a hill like that!’ said Anne, panting. ‘Give me a push, Julian! I’ll never get to the top!’


Chapter Eight
MOSTLY ABOUT WILFRID

Timmy was waiting for the children at the top of the hill, his tail waving, his mouth open as he panted. He picked something up, as the children came, threw it into the air, and caught it.
‘Another golf-ball, Timmy?’ said Dick, as Timmy threw the ball into the air again with a toss of his big head.
‘No - it’s too big for that,’ said George. ‘Drop it, Timmy. What have you found?’
Timmy dropped the ball at George’s feet. It was bigger than a golf-ball, and had a hole right through it. ‘Oh, it’s one of those balls that children throw up and try to catch on a stick,’ said George. ‘Somebody must have dropped it. All right, Tim, you can have it.’
‘He won’t swallow it, will he?’ said Wilfrid, anxiously. ‘It’s not awfully big - and I once saw a dog swallow something by mistake, that he threw into the air to catch.’
‘Timmy’s much too sensible to swallow any ball,’ said George. ‘You needn’t worry about him. Anyway, I can do any worrying necessary. He’s my dog.’
‘All right, all right, all right!’ said Wilfrid. ‘Miss High-and-Mighty can look after her own dog. Fine!’
George looked round at him furiously and he made a face at her. Then he whistled to Timmy - yes, he actually dared to whistle to him!
‘Nobody whistles for my dog except me,’ said George. ‘And anyway, he won’t come to you.’
But, to her surprise and horror, Timmy did go to Wilfrid, and pranced all round him, expecting a game. George called him sternly, and he looked at her in surprise. He began to trot over to her when Wilfrid whistled again, and obediently Timmy turned as if to go to him.
George caught hold of the dog’s collar, and aimed a punch at the whistling boy. It missed him, and he danced round, laughing.
‘Stop it now, you two,’ said Julian, seeing George’s look of fury. ‘I said STOP IT! Wilfrid, go on ahead, and keep going. George, don’t be an ass. He’s only teasing you to make you lose your temper. Don’t please him by losing it!’
George said nothing more, but her eyes blazed. Oh dear! thought Anne, now we shan’t have any peace! She won’t forgive Wilfrid for making Timmy go to him! Blow Wilfrid - he really is a little pest at times.
They were all very hungry for their lunch and very pleased with everything that Anne provided. Dick went into the little cottage to help her, because George insisted on keeping her hand on Timmy’s collar all the time, in case Wilfrid should entice him to his side.
‘He’s making some of his peculiar noises now,’ said Dick to Anne. ‘Noises that animals can’t seem to resist! I don’t wonder that George has got Timmy tightly by the collar! I’m not a dog, but I find those little whiny noises Wilfrid is making very curious indeed, and I’d love to go nearer!’
‘Well, I hope we’re not going to have black looks from George from now on,’ said Anne. ‘Wilfrid’s an awful little idiot at times, and MOST irritating - but he’s not bad underneath, if you know what I mean.’
‘Well, I don’t really,’ said Dick, cutting some tomatoes in half. ‘I think he’s a badly brought-up little pest - and if I were a dog, I’d bite him, not fawn on him! Have I cut up enough tomatoes, Anne?’
‘Good gracious, yes!’ said Anne. ‘However many do you think we’re going to eat - forty or fifty? Look, you open this tin for me, Dick. I do so hate opening tins. I nearly always cut myself.’
‘Don’t you ever open one again, then,’ said Dick. ‘I’m the official tin-opener from now on! Dear old Anne, whatever should we do without you! You take everything on your shoulders, and we just let you! George ought to help more. She’s a girl like you - but she never gets the meals or anything. I’ll tick her off one of these days.’
‘No, don’t,’ said Anne, in alarm. ‘I like doing things on my own. George would only break things or upset them. She’s as ham-handed as a boy when it comes to washing up or setting out crockery though she means well.’
‘So boys are ham-handed, are they?’ said Dick, pretending to be offended. ‘When have I ever broken anything, I’d like to know? I’m as careful as any girl, when I handle crockery!’
Alas for Dick! The glass he was holding suddenly slipped from his hand, fell to the floor, and broke! Anne looked at him and gave a sudden delighted giggle. ‘Old Ham-hand!’ she said. ‘Can’t pick up a glass without dropping it! Look, take out this tray for me, and for goodness sake don’t drop that!’
They all had a delicious lunch, and ate practically everything. Wilfrid sat a little away from everyone, scattering crumbs around as he ate. Birds of all kinds were soon round him, even hopping on to his hands. A magpie flew down to his left shoulder. Wilfrid greeted it like an old friend. ‘Hallo, Maggie Pie! How’s the family? I hope Polly Pie has recovered from her cold. And is Peter Pie’s bad leg better? And what about old Granpa Pie - does he still chase you young ones?’
The magpie put its glossy head on one side and chattered back to him in bird-language, which Wilfrid appeared to understand. He stroked the bird’s gleaming breast, and fondled it lovingly. George deliberately didn’t watch. She turned her back on Wilfrid and the magpie, and talked to Timmy. The others couldn’t help being amused.
The magpie put Wilfrid’s conversation to an end very suddenly. The boy was about to put half a tomato into his mouth when the bird bent down its head and snatched away the tomato with its powerful beak. Then it rose quickly into the air on its big wings, making a noise exactly as if it were laughing!
Everyone roared with laughter except the surprised Wilfrid. ‘He’s gone to take your tomato to Polly Pie, I should think,’ said Anne, and that made everyone laugh again.
‘I’ll have another tomato now, please,’ said Wilfrid.
‘Sorry. You’re unlucky. They’re all gone,’ said Dick.
It was lovely sitting up on the hillside, watching the boats in the harbour, and seeing the beautiful, white-sailed yachts bending to and fro in the strong wind that blew there. They could all see Whispering Island quite clearly, and noticed that no boats went anywhere near it. Clearly everyone knew that men might be there, watching for intruders.
‘There might be badgers there,’ said Wilfrid, suddenly. ‘I’ve never been really close to a badger.’
‘I shouldn’t think anyone but you would want to be!’ said George. ‘Smelly things! There’s one thing - you can’t call one with your whistle-pipe - there aren’t any here!’
‘Wilfrid - get out your pipe and make the little rabbits come again,’ said Anne, suddenly. ‘While we’re all sitting here quietly. Would they come?’
‘Yes, I think so,’ said Wilfrid, and felt in his pocket. He felt in another pocket, and looked worried. Then he stood up and patted himself all over, looking really distressed. He stared round at the others, anguish on his face.
‘It’s gone,’ he said. ‘I must have lost it! It’s gone! I’ll never have another like it, never.’
‘Oh, it must be in one of your pockets,’ said Dick, touched by the look on the boy’s face. ‘Here, let me feel.’
But no - the pipe wasn’t there. Wilfrid looked as if he were about to burst into tears. He began to hunt all round, and everyone helped him. No - not quite everyone. George didn’t. Dick glanced at her, and frowned. George was pleased that the precious pipe was lost. How she must dislike poor Wilfrid! Well, he was dislikeable at times, no doubt about it - but he was so distressed now that surely nobody could help feeling sorry for him!
George got up and began to clear away the remains of the meal. She carried plates and glasses to the hut, and after a while Anne followed her.
‘I’m sorry for poor old Wilfrid, aren’t you?’ she said.
‘No, I’m not,’ said George, shortly. ‘Serves him right! I hope he never finds his silly pipe. That will teach him not to try and get Timmy away from me!’
‘Oh, don’t be silly! He only does it for fun!’ said Anne, shocked. ‘Why do you take things so seriously, George? You know Timmy loves you better than anyone in the world and always will. He’s your dog and nobody, nobody else’s! Wilfrid’s only teasing you when he tries to get Timmy to go to him.’
‘Timmy goes, though,’ said George, desperately. ‘And he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t.’
‘He can’t help it, I think,’ said Anne. ‘Wilfrid has some peculiar attraction for animals - and that little whistle-pipe of his is like a magic call to them.’
‘I’m glad it’s gone!’ said George. ‘Glad, glad, glad!’
‘Then I think you’re silly and unkind,’ said Anne, and walked off, knowing that she could do nothing with George in this mood. She worried a little as she went. Did George know where the pipe was? Had she found it - and hidden it - or destroyed it? No - no! George could be difficult and unkind at times, but she wasn’t mean. And what a mean thing it would be, to destroy the beautiful little pipe, with its magic trills!
Anne went back to the others, meaning to try and comfort Wilfrid - but he wasn’t there. ‘Where’s he gone?’ asked Anne.
‘To look for his precious whistle-pipe,’ said Dick. ‘He’s really heartbroken about it, I think. He says he’s going to walk back the way we came from the golf-course, and then he’s going to walk everywhere there that we walked this morning, and hunt and hunt. He’s even going down to the club-house to see if he dropped it there. He’ll never find it!’
‘Poor old Wilfrid!’ said Anne, tender-hearted as ever. ‘I wish he’d waited for me. I’d have gone with him. He’s awfully upset, isn’t he? Won’t he be able to call the wild animals to him any more?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ said Dick. ‘Er - I suppose old George doesn’t know anything about it? Perhaps that’s a mean thing to say - but George might have found it and kept it just for a joke.’
‘No. No, I don’t think she’d do that,’ said Anne; ‘It would be a very poor joke. Well - we’ll just have to hope Wilfrid finds it. What are you going to do this afternoon? Sleep, by the look of you!’
‘Yes - sleep out in the warm sun here, till three o’clock,’ said Julian. ‘Then I’m going for a walk - down to the harbour. I might even have a bathe.’
‘We’ll all go,’ said Dick, sleepily. ‘Oh how lovely it is to feel lazy - and warm - and well-fed - and sleeeeeeeepy! So long, everyone! I’m asleep!’


Chapter Nine
OFF TO WHISPERING ISLAND

The two boys, and Anne and George, slept soundly in the sun until just past three o’clock. Then a large fly buzzed around Anne’s head, and awoke her. She sat up and looked at her watch.
‘Gracious! It’s ten past three!’ she said, in surprise. ‘Wake up, Julian! Dick, stir yourself! Don’t you want to go and bathe?’
Yawning loudly the two boys sat up, and looked all round. George was still asleep. Wilfrid hadn’t yet come back.
‘Still hunting for his precious pipe, I suppose,’ said Anne. ‘Get up, you two boys. Dick, you’re not to lie down, you’ll only go to sleep again. Where are your bathing-things? I’ll get them. And does anyone know where our bathing towels are? We’ll probably have to dress and undress with them round us!’
‘They’re up in our room, chucked into a corner,’ said Dick, sleepily. ‘Gosh, I was sound asleep. I really thought I was in my bed, when I awoke!’
Anne went to fetch the bath-towels and the bathing things. She called back to the boys. ‘I’ve got everything. Buck up, Julian, don’t go to sleep again!’
‘Right!’ said Julian, sitting up and stretching himself. ‘Oh this sun - it’s GLORIOUS!’
He poked Dick with his toe. ‘Get up! We’ll leave you behind if you snore again. George, good-bye - we’re going!’
George sat up, yawning, and Timmy stood over her and licked her cheek. She patted him. ‘All right, Timmy, I’m ready. It’s so warm that I’m LONGING for a dip - and you’ll love it too, Tim!’
Carrying their bathing-things they made their way down the hill, and across a stretch of moorland to the edge of the sea, Timmy running joyously behind them. Beyond lay Whispering Island, a great tree-clad mass, and all around and about little boats plied, and yachts sailed in the wind, enjoying themselves in the great harbour which stretched far beyond the island to a big seaside town on the opposite coast.
The four went behind some rocks, and stripped off their clothes, emerging three minutes later in their scanty bathing things. Anne raced to the edge of the water, and let it lap over her toes. ‘Lovely!’ she said ‘It’s not a bit cold! I shall enjoy my swim!’
‘Woof!’ said Timmy and plunged into the water. He loved the sea too, and was a fine swimmer! He waited for George to come in and then swam to her. She put her arms round his neck and let him drag her along with him. Dear Timmy! How strong he was, thought George.
They had a wonderful time in the water. Further out the waves were big, and curled over like miniature waterfalls, sweeping the children along with them. They yelled in joy, and choked when the water splashed into their mouths. It was an ideal day for bathing.
When they came out, they lay on the sand in the sun, Timmy beside George, keeping guard as usual. It was really warm. George sat up and looked longingly out to sea, where the wind was whipping up the waves tremendously.
‘Wish we had a boat!’ she said. ‘If we were back home, I could get out my own boat, and we could go out in the cool breeze and get dry.’
Julian pointed lazily to a big notice not far off. It said ‘BOATS FOR HIRE. INQUIRE AT HUT.’
‘Oh good!’ said George. ‘I’ll go and inquire. I’d love a good row!’
She slipped on her sandals, and went to the hut to which the sign pointed. A boy of about fifteen sat there, staring out to sea. He looked round as George came along.
‘Want a boat?’ he said.
‘Yes, please. How much?’ asked George. ‘For four of us - and a dog.’
‘Fifty pence an hour,’ said the boy. ‘Or a pound a day. Or three pounds a week. Better to take it by the week if you’re staying here. It works out very cheap then.’
George went back to the boys and Anne. ‘Shall we take the boat by the week?’ she said. ‘It’ll cost three pounds. We could do lots of rowing about, and it would be fun.’
‘Right,’ said Dick. ‘Anyone got any money?’
‘There’s some in my pocket, but not enough, I’m afraid,’ said Julian. ‘I’ll go and fix up the boat for us to have tomorrow - we’ll take it for a whole week. I can easily bring the money with me in the morning.’
The boat-boy was very obliging. ‘You can have the boat today and onwards, if you like, you needn’t wait till tomorrow,’ he said. ‘I know you’ll bring me the money all right! So, if you’d like to have it this afternoon, it’s up to you. Choose which boat you like. They’re all the same. If you want to take it out at night too, and do some fishing, you can - but tie it up safe, won’t you?’
‘Of course,’ said Julian, going to look at the boats. He beckoned to the others, and they all came over.
‘Any boat we like, day or night!’ said Julian. ‘Which do you fancy? Starfish - Splasho - Adventure - Sea-gull - Rock-a-bye? They all look good, sound little boats to me!’
‘I’d like “Adventure”, I think,’ said George, thinking that that particular little boat looked sturdy, deari and sound. ‘Nice name - and nice little boat!’
So Adventure it was! ‘And a jolly good name for any boat of ours!’ said Dick, pushing it down to the sea with Julian. ‘Whooooosh! There she goes! Steady my beauty - we want to get in! Chuck in all our clothes, George! We can dress when we feel cold.’
Soon they were all in the boat, bobbing about on the waves. Julian took the oars and pulled out to sea. Now they were in the full breeze - and a spanking one it was too! ‘I’m certainly not hot any more!’ said George, pulling her bathing-towel round her shoulders.
The tide was running out, and pulled the boat strongly out to sea. Whispering Island suddenly seemed very much nearer! ‘Better look out!’ said George, suddenly. ‘We don’t know if a keeper’s on guard somewhere on the shore of the island. We’re getting pretty near.’
But the out-going tide swept the boat on and on towards the island, so that very soon they could see a sandy shore. Dick then took one oar, and Julian the other, and they tried to row against the tide and take the boat back into calmer water.
It was no good. The tide was far too strong. Very soon the boat was quite near the shore of the island and then an enormous wave flung them right up the sand, and left the boat grounded as it went back again. It slid over to one side, and they all promptly fell out!
‘Whew!’ said Julian. ‘What a tide! I’d no idea it ran so strongly, or I’d never have brought the boat out so far.’
‘What shall we do!’ said Anne, rather scared. She kept looking all round for a keeper with a gun. Suppose they got into real trouble through coming right on to the island?
‘I think we’ll have to stay on the island till the tide turns, and we can row back on it,’ said Julian. ‘I can’t think why that boat-boy didn’t warn us about the tide. I suppose he thought we knew.’
They pulled the boat a little further up on the firm sand, took out their bundle of clothes, and hid them under a bush. They walked up the beach towards a wood, thick with great trees. As they neared them, they heard a strange, mysterious sound.
‘Whispering!’ said George, stopping. ‘The trees are really whispering. Listen! It’s just as if they were talking to one another under their breath! No wonder it’s called Whispering Island!’
‘I don’t like it much,’ said Anne. ‘It almost sounds as if they’re saying nasty things about us!’
‘Shooey, shooey, shooey, shooey!’ said the trees, nodding towards one another as the wind shook them. ‘Shooey, shooey!’
‘Just the noise of whispering!’ said George. ‘Well - what do we do now? We’ll have to wait an hour or two till the tide turns again!’
‘Shall we explore?’ said Dick. ‘After all, we’ve got Timmy with us. No one is likely to attack us if they see him!’
‘They can shoot him, can’t they, if they have guns?’ said George. ‘If he growled one of his terrifying growls, and ran at them, showing his teeth, they’d be scared to bits, and fire at him.’
‘I think you’re right,’ said Julian, angry with himself for landing them all into what might be serious trouble. ‘Keep your hand on Timmy’s collar, George.’
‘You know what I think?’ said Dick suddenly. ‘I think we ought to try and find the guards, and tell them the tide swept us on to the island quite by accident - we couldn’t stop the boat surging on! We’re not grown-ups, come to snoop around, so they’re sure to believe us - and we’d be safe from any chasing or shooting then.’
They all looked at Julian. He nodded. ‘Yes - good idea. Give ourselves up, and ask for help! After all, we hadn’t any real intention of actually landing - the tide simply threw the boat into that sandy cove!’
So they walked up to the back of the cove and into the wood, whose whispering was very loud indeed, once they were actually among the trees. No one was to be seen. The wood was so thick that it was in parts quite difficult to clamber through. After about ten minutes very hard walking and clambering, Julian came to a stop. He had seen something through the trees.
The others pressed behind him. Julian pointed in front, and the others saw what looked like a great grey wall, made of stone.
‘The old castle, I imagine!’ Julian whispered, and at once the trees themselves seemed to whisper even more loudly! They all made their way to the wall, and walked alongside it. It was a very high wall indeed, and they could hardly see the top! They came to a corner and peeped round. A great courtyard lay there - quite empty.
‘Better shout, I think,’ said Dick, beginning to feel rather creepy, but before they could do that two enormous men suddenly came down a flight of great stone steps. They looked so fierce, that Timmy couldn’t help giving a blood-curdling growl. They stopped short at once, and looked all round, startled.
‘The noise came from over there,’ said one of the men, pointing to his left - and, to the children’s great relief, both swung off in the wrong direction!
‘We’d better get back to the cove,’ whispered Julian. ‘I don’t at all like the look of those men - they look proper thugs. Quiet as you can, now. George, don’t let Timmy bark.’
They made their way back beside the stone wall, through the whispering trees, and there they were, at the cove.
‘We’d better row back as quickly as we can,’ said Julian. ‘I think something’s wrong here. Those men looked like foreigners. They certainly weren’t game-keepers. I wish we hadn’t come.’
‘Ju - where’s our boat?’ said Dick, in a shocked voice. ‘It’s gone. This can’t be the right cove!’
The others stared round. Certainly there was no boat! They must have come to the wrong cove.
‘It looks the same cove to me,’ said George. ‘Except that the sea has come in a bit more. Do you think it took our boat away - gosh, look at that big wave sweeping right in - and sucking back!’
‘My word, yes! Our boat could easily have been dragged out on a wave like that!’ said Julian, very worried. ‘Look out - here comes another!’
‘It is the same cove!’ said Anne, looking under a bush at the back. ‘Here are our clothes, look! We hid them here!’
‘Take them out quickly!’ called Julian, as another big wave swept right in. ‘What an idiot I am! We should have pulled our boat as far up as we could.’
‘I’m cold now,’ said Anne. ‘I’m going to dress. It will be easier to carry a bathing-suit than a heap of clothes!’
‘Good idea!’ said Dick, and they all promptly dressed, feeling warmer at once.
‘We might as well leave our bathing-things under the bush where we left our clothes,’ said George. ‘At least we’ll know it’s the same cove, if we find them there!’
‘The thing is - what are we going to do now?’ said Julian, worried. ‘No boat to get back in - and why on earth did we choose one called Adventure! We might have known something would happen!’