Read Online The Stolen Lake by Joan Aiken - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Joan Aiken
Tags: Fiction, General, Action & Adventure, Juvenile Fiction, Adventure and Adventurers, Adventure stories
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time!
The bar fell to the ground with a clang. Of their own accord, the two great doors began to open slightly, disclosing a twilit scene outside. Inching her way through the narrow gap, Dido looked cautiously round her. She was amazed to find herself down on the quayside. Fancy! she thought. There must be a passageway right from The White Hart to that storehouse. Underground, maybe. Likely there's a bit of smuggling goes on in these parts.
Dusk was falling fast—she must have slept for two or three hours. The quay was empty and silent, except for an occasional seagull, pondering on a bollard. But—Dido was delighted to notice—only a couple of hundred yards from the building in which she had been imprisoned floated the pinnace belonging to H. M. S.
Thrush,
still moored alongside the quay.
Glancing both ways, Dido broke into a fast run. I'll ask one o' the crew to see me back to The White Hart. Reckon that Vavasour was right in one thing she said—this don't feel a healthy town to loiter about the streets alone.
A couple of sailors were in the pinnace, doing something to the rudder; she hailed them, panting, as she came alongside.
"Hey-o, Solly and Tad! Can I come aboard?"
"Why, 'tis the supercargo—little Miss Dido. What be you a-doing down on the dockside? Thought you was with the cap'n, dining on roast goose and gravy!"
"He's a-calling on the mayor," Dido replied. "And I'm not supposed to be in the street by myself. Would one o' you coves be agreeable to walk me back to The White Hart?"
"The bosun'd have us over a gun barrel, duck, if he come back and found us missing—he's in the town buying nails. You'd best come on board till he gets back."
Dido was about to accept this invitation when a man who had been limping slowly toward them came up beside her and said, "The young lady wishes to be escorted to The White Hart hostelry? I shall be glad to accompany her. I am going that way."
The sailors had been working by the light of the two lanterns that hung in the rigging. Their yellow glow illuminated the face of the newcomer. Swelp me,
he
's a rum gager, Dido thought. Dare I trust him?
He was indeed a very strange-looking individual: tall, deathly pale, even in that gold light—as if he had been in prison fifty years—with great cavernous eye sockets, a long curved nose, a thin wide mouth, and a shock of snow-white hair. His clothes were black. A large white cockatoo sat on his shoulder, and he carried a triangular stringed instrument. He had a wooden leg.
Dido was on the point of saying "No thanks, mister," in the firmest possible way, when he halted her with upraised hand.
"You are about to refuse my offer. You are afraid of me."
"No I ain't!" she retorted crossly (though she was, a little). "It's jist that one dassn't trust a soul in this rabshackle town."
"Spoken like a wise child! But you may trust me."
"How can I be sure, mister? I been gulled afore."
He sighed.
"You may trust me because it is not in my power to harm. I can
prevent
harm, sometimes; sometimes not even that."
Dido studied him a while longer. That's what
you
say, she thought.
He disconcerted her by reading her thought.
"It is what I say. And it is the truth. I tell nothing but truth."
"Humph!"
Dido was still not at all sure that she trusted him. But there was something about him that pricked her curiosity greatly. He looked as if he knew such a lot! She had a notion that, if he chose, he would be able to answer any question she cared to put to him.
At last she said, "How do I know as you ain't pals with that pair as nabbled me?"
"Oh, how,
how?
" he exclaimed impatiently. "How do you know that two and two make four, or that your name is Dido and your sister's Penelope? I know because I know, but I could explain for years, and
you
would still be in the dark."
Dido was so amazed at this answer that, after a moment, quite meekly, she said, "Reckon I'll go with you, then, mister, and thank you kindly."
Tad and Solly, reassured,
The bar fell to the ground with a clang. Of their own accord, the two great doors began to open slightly, disclosing a twilit scene outside. Inching her way through the narrow gap, Dido looked cautiously round her. She was amazed to find herself down on the quayside. Fancy! she thought. There must be a passageway right from The White Hart to that storehouse. Underground, maybe. Likely there's a bit of smuggling goes on in these parts.
Dusk was falling fast—she must have slept for two or three hours. The quay was empty and silent, except for an occasional seagull, pondering on a bollard. But—Dido was delighted to notice—only a couple of hundred yards from the building in which she had been imprisoned floated the pinnace belonging to H. M. S.
Thrush,
still moored alongside the quay.
Glancing both ways, Dido broke into a fast run. I'll ask one o' the crew to see me back to The White Hart. Reckon that Vavasour was right in one thing she said—this don't feel a healthy town to loiter about the streets alone.
A couple of sailors were in the pinnace, doing something to the rudder; she hailed them, panting, as she came alongside.
"Hey-o, Solly and Tad! Can I come aboard?"
"Why, 'tis the supercargo—little Miss Dido. What be you a-doing down on the dockside? Thought you was with the cap'n, dining on roast goose and gravy!"
"He's a-calling on the mayor," Dido replied. "And I'm not supposed to be in the street by myself. Would one o' you coves be agreeable to walk me back to The White Hart?"
"The bosun'd have us over a gun barrel, duck, if he come back and found us missing—he's in the town buying nails. You'd best come on board till he gets back."
Dido was about to accept this invitation when a man who had been limping slowly toward them came up beside her and said, "The young lady wishes to be escorted to The White Hart hostelry? I shall be glad to accompany her. I am going that way."
The sailors had been working by the light of the two lanterns that hung in the rigging. Their yellow glow illuminated the face of the newcomer. Swelp me,
he
's a rum gager, Dido thought. Dare I trust him?
He was indeed a very strange-looking individual: tall, deathly pale, even in that gold light—as if he had been in prison fifty years—with great cavernous eye sockets, a long curved nose, a thin wide mouth, and a shock of snow-white hair. His clothes were black. A large white cockatoo sat on his shoulder, and he carried a triangular stringed instrument. He had a wooden leg.
Dido was on the point of saying "No thanks, mister," in the firmest possible way, when he halted her with upraised hand.
"You are about to refuse my offer. You are afraid of me."
"No I ain't!" she retorted crossly (though she was, a little). "It's jist that one dassn't trust a soul in this rabshackle town."
"Spoken like a wise child! But you may trust me."
"How can I be sure, mister? I been gulled afore."
He sighed.
"You may trust me because it is not in my power to harm. I can
prevent
harm, sometimes; sometimes not even that."
Dido studied him a while longer. That's what
you
say, she thought.
He disconcerted her by reading her thought.
"It is what I say. And it is the truth. I tell nothing but truth."
"Humph!"
Dido was still not at all sure that she trusted him. But there was something about him that pricked her curiosity greatly. He looked as if he knew such a lot! She had a notion that, if he chose, he would be able to answer any question she cared to put to him.
At last she said, "How do I know as you ain't pals with that pair as nabbled me?"
"Oh, how,
how?
" he exclaimed impatiently. "How do you know that two and two make four, or that your name is Dido and your sister's Penelope? I know because I know, but I could explain for years, and
you
would still be in the dark."
Dido was so amazed at this answer that, after a moment, quite meekly, she said, "Reckon I'll go with you, then, mister, and thank you kindly."
Tad and Solly, reassured,
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