The wizard's cave — Edition Insights

CHAPTER I. THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS

CHAPTER II. FIRST SIGHT OF THE SEA

CHAPTER III. THE WRECKERS' LAMP

CHAPTER IV. EXPLORING THE CAVE

CHAPTER V. EXPLORING THE OLD HOUSE

CHAPTER VI. AN AMAZING DISCOVERY

CHAPTER VII. DUKE'S BEACON

CHAPTER VIII. THE MYSTERY OF THE CAVE

CHAPTER IX. A WAY OUT

CHAPTER X. NOEL GUARDS THE SECRET

CHAPTER XI. NO COWARD AFTER ALL

THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS.

THE coach rolled away from the door of Tudor Hall. The large schoolroom, tenanted only by two small boys crouching close to one of the windows, looked bare and grim.

It was raining so fast that they could not go into the playground. The dusty roads and scorched gardens of the London suburb needed rain badly, but what cared the boys for that? The downpour swelled the sense of wrong which filled the bosom of the elder, Marmaduke (generally known as Duke) Bryden, a well-grown boy of twelve, for this was "breaking-up day," and these boys had seen their schoolmates depart gleefully for home while they, having no home, were to spend their holidays at the schoolhouse.

"It's a horrid shame," ejaculated Duke Bryden, not for the first time—"a horrid shame! That's just what it is, and I don't care who hears me say it!"

As there was no one save themselves in the large room, the boast seemed unnecessary.

"It's not any good to say it," replied Noel, his brother, a slight, fair boy about eighteen months younger. "It does not alter it; we've gone through it before, and we know what it's like. Mrs. Tapson isn't half bad when we're the only boys she has to look after. Do you remember when we went to the sea?"

"Of course I remember it," Duke said. He had indeed a far clearer recollection than Noel of the summer when their parents took them to Deal, yet it was the younger boy who loved to brood over the vague, sweet memory of joyous days.

Since then, through their father's untimely death, the boys' lives had wholly changed. Their home was broken up and their mother obliged to take a situation. A friend offered to pay for the boys' education. He was a well-to-do man and kindly disposed towards the little fellows, but he had a large family of his own, and his wife could not be troubled with strange boys in the holidays.

The brothers had ceased to talk, and were moodily watching the steady downfall of the rain, when the door opened and a stout, middle-aged lady looked into the room. It was Mrs. Tapson, the matron who took charge of the boys at Tudor Hall.

"Come away, boys," she said cheerily. "Tea is ready. You must be weary of moping there by yourselves, and I am tired enough with turning out drawers and packing boxes. I am thankful that breaking-up day does not come often. It would not take many such days to break me up."

"She does not look as if she would break easily," Noel whispered to Duke as they followed her along the passage which led to the housekeeper's cosy room at the back of the house.

Duke's brow cleared as, on entering, his eyes fell on the dainty tea-table. The sight of a dish of fine cherries and a home-made cake, such as appeared on the school-table on Sundays only, afforded him consolation.

The boys had enjoyed their tea and wore feeling in better spirits when the heavy knock which announces the postman resounded through the house. Noel ran to fetch the letters, and came back with an excited air, for he had found amongst them a letter addressed to Mrs. Tapson in his mother's handwriting.

"I guess it's to say that she's going to send us a box," he remarked to his brother; "but why did she not write to us about it?"

"Here you are!" said Mrs. Tapson, who had opened the envelope. "There's a letter for you inside. It's addressed to you both, so you cannot quarrel over it."

Eagerly the boys took the folded sheet, and, both trying to open it at once, tore it across ere they did so. Then, putting it together with some difficulty, they read the following words:—

"Egloshayle, July 31st."

"MY DEAR DUKE AND NOEL,—It has pained me so to think that you would have to remain at school while the other boys were enjoying themselves at the seaside or in the country, that at last I screwed up my courage and spoke to Mr. Torrington about it. He and his brother are going to Switzerland for a month on account of Mr. Alan's health, which does not improve. While they are away their rooms are to be thoroughly done up, so I shall be busy looking after painters and whitewashers, yet I dared to ask Mr. Torrington if he would mind two little boys coming here for a fortnight."

"'Nothing venture nothing have' is a good old saying. I am thankful now that I ventured, for Mr. Torrington took it better than I could have expected. He does not like boys, and he looked frightened at first, but ended by giving me permission to have you here for the whole of the month he expects to be away. I had to promise that you would behave very well and do no mischief in house or grounds. I am sure I can trust you to make good this promise."

"I can fancy how you will look when you read this. You do not need to be told what a joy it will be to your mother to have you here. You will enjoy this lovely place and the beautiful wild Cornish coast."

"I am writing to Mrs. Tapson to tell her about the train and to ask her kindly to see you off. Mr. Torrington and his brother leave on Saturday morning, so I shall be ready to welcome you on that evening. Now do not let yourselves get too excited on the journey and don't lean too far out of the window and lose your hats. When you reach the station there will be a coach waiting to bring you and your luggage on here. When the coach draws up at the Golden Lion, near Egloshayle, you will see me. Till then much love from—"

The boys were wild with delight at the news brought by the letter.

"Cornwall is ever so much better than Scotland," said Duke confidently, "and I certainly would not change places with Jack and his girl cousins."

"Is it as nice as Deal?" asked Noel.

"As nice!" repeated Duke scornfully. "Deal isn't a patch upon Cornwall. Don't you remember hearing mother talk about the broad sands where we can build castles, and the rocks and caves?"

"Caves!" echoed Noel. "Do they go a long way back, and are they dark inside?"

"That's what we shall have to find out," said Duke. "Oh, I wish we had known about it sooner, we might have saved up bits of candle."

"But I'm glad we've only to wait till Saturday," said Noel. "Only two more days and then we shall be there! Isn't it scrumptious!"

"I wish I had known sooner," said Mrs. Tapson; "I'd have had all your things nicely washed and mended. Your mother kindly says it does not matter; but I like to send everything in order."

The boys could not see that this was of the least consequence. They did not cease talking of Cornwall till, at a later hour than usual, Mrs. Tapson sent them to bed, and then they carried the thought of that beautiful county into their dreams.

FIRST SIGHT OF THE SEA.

IT was vain for Mrs. Dryden to warn her boys against over-excitement as they travelled west. From the moment when they left Paddington until they alighted at the little Cornish station they were in high spirits, and they greatly amused their fellow-passengers.

"Where is the coach for Trevethick?" Duke demanded with a lordly air, as he sprang on to the platform almost before the train had stopped. A tall, thin porter, sauntering in a leisurely way along the platform, looked at him calmly, but made no reply as he moved forward to open a carriage door.

Many other passengers were on the platform, and the chief concern of all was their luggage.

The platform was soon littered with a rich variety of trunks and portmanteaux, which were gradually sorted into family groups. Duke hunted for the small box which contained his own and Noel's slender outfit.

Just as he had made up his mind that it was lost, the guard tumbled it out of his van on to the platform, shouting to a porter as the train started and he swung himself into it, "The two little chaps will be met at the Golden Lion."

"Two little chaps!" Duke's dignity was seriously impaired. Noel might be a "little chap," but everyone said what a tall, big fellow Duke was for his age.

Noel, meanwhile, had been looking round and had discovered, amid various private and hired vehicles waiting outside the station, a small country omnibus to which were harnessed three tall, bony horses.

"I believe it goes to Trevethick," he said to Duke as he drew his attention to the conveyance. The porters were beginning to load the top with luggage, while a short, square, red-faced man standing by the gate shouted instructions.

"Oh, we're not going in that," said Duke; then turning to one of the porters, he asked again, "Where is the coach for Trevethick?"

"There he be," said the man, jerking his head towards the conveyance.

"But that isn't a coach," said Duke.

"Baint it?" said the man. "Then I reckon he'll have to do instid of one."

"How funnily they talk!" whispered Noel to his brother. "Why does he say 'he,' when he means the bus?"

Duke did not reply. He was wondering how all the luggage scattered round it was to be packed on to the omnibus. It seemed somewhat of a puzzle to the men engaged on the task.

The other vehicles had started off and the porters were now anxious to get off "the coach," as they termed it. They placed and replaced the boxes, while the red-faced man shouted somewhat contradictory directions and bystanders made suggestions.

"'Eave 'im up a bit, Joe. Put the littl'un atop. Not that way, t'other side up. Mind that hatbox. All right, sir, that won't hurt. Safe, ma'am? As safe as the baby's cradle."

Nearly half an hour slipped by ere all the luggage was piled up and secured by a rope. Then the passengers took their places, six inside and nine on the top. There was room for two on each side of the driver, and five occupied the bench behind him.

Duke watched them take their places with some dismay.

"We want to go to the Golden Lion," he said to the red-faced man, who proved to be the driver; "will there be room for us?"

"Don't you be afraid, sonny," he replied; "there'll be abundance of room for you and t'other little chap. You don't want a whole coach to yourselves, do you?"

"Now, if you please," he shouted to his passengers, "you can make room there for a littl'un." So saying he helped Duke to clamber up, and pushed him with little ceremony into the middle of the back row.

Then he lifted Noel on to the box, mounted behind him and took the reins. Noel was squeezed into about six inches of space between the driver and a fat-faced burly man who leaned over him as he talked so that the small boy could see little more than the horses with their blinkers saw. But he could see them and observe how they responded to whip and reins and the driver's words. Duke, who sat higher, could see the tall hedges, which promised a rich harvest of blackberries and nuts, and waved sweet tendrils of honeysuckle high above the reach of the passer-by.

When they had gone several miles the driver drew up his horses at the foot of a very steep hill and requested the passengers to walk up it. He told Duke and Noel, however, to stop where they were. For this they were grateful, for, released from their cramped position, they could talk to one another, and from the top of the vehicle they caught a splendid view of the country through which they were passing.

Presently, as the road wound about and the horses climbed higher, a cry of rapture broke from Noel.

"Oh, look! Look, Duke! The sea!"

To the left lay a narrow green glen with a stream rippling through it. Beyond it rose mighty cliffs which, falling asunder, framed an exquisite view of the deep blue sea.

"Hurrah!" cried Duke. "There it is! What a glorious sea! Look, Noel, how the waves foam at the top! That shows the sea is rough."

"Ay, and it most always is rough along this coast," remarked the driver. "You young gentlemen must not think of bathing alone, for it is not safe. There are treacherous undercurrents in places, and I've known even good swimmers swept away by them. Whoa, now—whoa!"

Noel with a sigh resigned himself to being crushed and squeezed by the big man, who came back more talkative than ever. The boy had taken a strong dislike to this man, who spoke in a thick husky voice.

"Is that Egloshayle House I see there?" he asked presently. "Just a bit of a roof amongst the trees?"

"Ay, that's it," said the driver; "we can see it from here, though we're more than three miles from it by the road."

Noel tried in vain to look in the direction indicated by the driver's whip; he was unable to turn his head far enough.

"The twin brothers still live there, I suppose?" said the other man.

"Ay, but they're not at home now. Went off this very mornin' to furrin parts."

"What—the cracky one too!"

The driver nodded. "'Tain't likely his brother would leave him behind."

"Is he really as mad as folks say?"

"Not likely," returned the driver; "I never knew folks tell the truth yet. They say that he's a miser, and hides his money in out-of-the-way places; and goes to count it when other folks are sleeping. They'll tell you he haunts the rocks at night, and is a sort of wizard, or something uncanny; but don't you believe it! I don't."

"They're very rich, ain't they?" said the big man. "Is the brother miserly too?"

"Not he," replied the driver. "Mr. Oscar Torrington is as open-handed as his brother's the opposite. I don't suppose he's over rich; but he gave a hundred pounds to the Trevethick Lifeboat Fund, and he lets the widow of a man who was drowned last year live in one of his cottages rent-free."

"Oh, he's a good fellow; but his brother has got his crotchets—a bit here, you know—" he touched his forehead—"there's no denying that."

"Do they live alone?" asked the man.

"They've no one belonging to them, if that's what you mean; but a lady keeps house for them, and a real nice lady she is too. What is the matter, sonny? A bit squeezed-eh?"

Noel in his excitement at hearing his mother thus mentioned was making frantic attempts to get his arms free that he might signal to Duke. He blushed and became very still; but only for a few moments. The horses were turning a corner. Two or three cottages came into sight, together with a quaint old inn, distinguished by a sign bearing a bold and extraordinary painting of a lion.

But Noel did not observe this curious representation of the king of beasts. His eyes fell on a lady who stood a few paces from the inn, gazing eagerly up the road.

"Oh, there's mother—mother!" he cried, forgetting his shyness in the rapture of the moment. "Duke, do you see? There's mother!"

"You don't mean to say she's your mother!" said the driver. "Well, to be sure!"

Tun boys found Egloshayle House the most remarkable dwelling they had ever seen. It would be difficult to imagine an abode more unlike the ordinary town house to which they were accustomed. It stood at the head of a rocky gorge, or chine, as it would be called in the south of England, through which a swift, narrow stream made its way to the sea.

The house consisted of two parts, one modern, one very old. The modern rooms had large windows and faced a bright flower-garden, with a gravelled drive leading to the stately entrance. The old part lay behind and extended almost to the edge of the gorge, which it seemed to overhang. Here the rooms were low, the roof had deep eaves which sheltered a whole colony of swallows, and ivy grew thickly about the small-paned windows.

A curious little tower rose at one side. The boys' mother told them that in the old days a lamp had always burned at night in the window of this tower, giving a light which could be seen far out at sea. The boys asked why this was no longer done, and she said she was afraid the lamp had been no good.

It was said that a former dweller at Egloshayle had used it as a treacherous beacon to lure vessels on to the deadly rocks below. That was in the old wrecking days, when men believed that all that the sea brought to their shore was their lawful prey, and instead of seeking to save shipwrecked sailors, sought rather to hasten their doom that they might enrich themselves by the spoil that the waves cast up.

"It is much better there should be no light in the tower," Mrs. Bryden said, "than that men should mistake it for the light at the entrance to Trevethick harbour and steer their vessels accordingly."

"It should show a red light," said Duke; "that means danger, and when the sailors saw it, they would know they must keep away."

"Ah, yes," said his mother; "then it would be a useful warning. It would be a terrible thing to show a light that would lead men to destruction."

"Noel," said Duke to his brother, on the night of their arrival, just as they were about to fall asleep, in the bedroom which their mother had prepared for them next to her own, "I wish it was not Sunday to-morrow. We shall not be able to bathe, or to paddle, and I do want to see what the sands are like."

"Oh, I'm glad it'll be Sunday," said Noel, "for we shall have mother with us all day."

They were both so tired from their long journey that this was the last word said ere sleep overcame them.

The boys did not wake till a late hour the next morning. Then, as they rushed to their window, which looked towards the sea, it was a disappointment to find that a fine, driving mist hid the cliffs, and the air felt almost as chill as winter. But by the time they had finished breakfast, which was rather a long meal, since they had so many questions to ask their mother, and she had so much to say to them, the sun was beginning to shine through the mist.

They walked with their mother to an interesting old church, set in the midst of the green downs. By the time the service was over the sun had conquered the clouds, and in brilliant sunshine they took their way home along the cliff path.

The boys could hardly contain themselves for joy as they bounded over the soft, springy turf or gazed down on the blue sea, fringed with foam wherever it touched the land, and the rugged brown cliffs, tinged in places with streaks of rust-colour, which their mother told them marked the presence of iron.

Here and there huge rocks stood detached from the cliffs, and the waves surging fiercely against them seemed possessed by an angry desire to bring down their pride.

Mrs. Bryden felt some qualms of fear as she warned her children not to go too near the edge of the cliff. It was a place where a boy's high spirits and contempt of fear might easily betray him into danger; but she foresaw that she must harden herself to accept some risk if she would not spoil her boys' pleasure or prevent their gaining proper courage and self-control.