Read Online The Stolen Lake by Joan Aiken - Free Book Online

her.

My cherished Nyneva—
"
    "Oh, no!" Dido heard Nynevie exclaim in a horrified whisper. "That's Bran!"
    And Mrs. Morgan snapped, "How the pest did
he
get here? I thought he were in the mountains?"
    "Oh, who ever knows where he'll turn up? Quick—let's get outa here. Make haste, Ma! Never mind the liddle varmint. She'll be right enough—"
    "A-right, a-right! Don't hurry me, gel!"
    From the sound, it appeared that Mrs. Vavasour was pushing her elderly parent up a flight of steps; there was a stumble and a smothered curse. Then a door closed with a rattle of bolts. This was followed by silence.
    Dido found herself in no great hurry to make a move. For one thing, she was not certain as to the whereabouts of the singer. The fact that this Bran, whoever he was, seemed to strike alarm into the dressmakers did not, Dido thought, necessarily mean that he would be prepared to help
her;
she was not going to risk being found by him. She would wait awhile.
    She occupied the time by enlarging a hole in the sack, which had been torn as it was dragged along. At last she managed to get her head out, but could see little of her surroundings, for the light was very dim. She thought she must be in some cellar or storeroom of The White Hart. They sure got a big store, she thought; seems big as Covent Garden.
    By cautious rolling and slithering she worked herself off the ax heads, which were very uncomfortable, and onto what felt like a pile of sacks, or sails. That's better, she thought. Now I'll jist rest me a few minutes, then I'll wriggle out of the sack. Croopus, how those old harridans did thump me along....
    Her head dropped back against the dusty sackcloth, and she slept.

    When Dido next woke, it was with a feeling of deep anxiety and apprehension. How long had she been asleep?
    Addlehead! she told herself. For all you know, it's nigh on midnight, and those old carrion crows'll be coming back any minute. Why the pize did I have to go and fall asleep?
    Trying to make as little noise as possible, she wriggled clear of the sack and looked around her. Although it was darker now, her eyes were more accustomed to the dimness. She seemed to be in a very large warehouse stacked with many kinds of goods: farm implements, fodder, tools, seeds, bales, barrels, and crates. Narrow alleys threaded between the high piles; it was like a maze, and Dido tried several alleys before she found one that led her to a wall, in which she saw two or three small window squares high above her head.
    They were too small and too high to be any use for escape; she edged her way along the wall, hastened on her way by certain squeaks and scurryings close by; there ain't no shortage of rats here, she thought, and was glad not to be still fastened in a sack with her hands tied behind her.
    At last she reached a wide loading space by a pair of big double doors, plainly the main entrance to the store. But the doors were fastened, as was a little wicket cut through them.
    Dido began to feel annoyed. She was hollow with hunger too. Old Cap'll be real mortallious when he wants to catch that boat and finds I'm missing, she thought. Peering up in the gloom she discovered that the fastening of the double doors consisted of a long iron bar, held in place by four massive staples. All I have to do is knock that out, she thought. But what with? It's out o' my reach. But among all this mollux of goods there must be summat I can use.
    Her luck had changed. She discovered a pile of hay rakes not far away in the murk—fell over them, in fact, and grazed her shin on the sharp tines. Just the job, she thought joyfully, rubbing her leg, and she pulled one free and returned to the door.
    It was impossible not to make a good deal of noise pushing the bar along through the staples. In for a penny, in for a pound, Dido decided, bashing away with her rake head. At least, if those two hear and come back, I've got me summat to thump
them,
with. They won't put me in a bag so easy next