‘That I would! You can carry me there just as soon as your great clumping feet can take you. Must be awkward, only having two paws apiece to walk on.’
They met Mrs Bodkin as they were about to set out.
‘Going for a walk?’ she said. ‘You’d better wear your macs and gum-boots. It poured in the night, and it looks like rain again.’
They hurried off, taking it in turns to carry Dumpsie, and rather uncomfortably linked together by the magic ring, so that they could listen to the little cat’s stories of life on the Dump, where there never seemed to be a dull moment. They were halfway down Sheepshank Lane when Rosemary said: ‘Half a minute. I’ve got a stone in my shoe.’
She slipped her finger from the Golden Gew-Gaw, and sat down on the grass by the side of the road, while she wrestled with the knot in her shoe-lace. John sat down beside her, and Dumpsie wandered towards the hedge.
‘What are you looking like that for?’ said Rosemary when, the stone removed, she had tied up her shoe-lace again. Both John and Dumpsie were leaning towards the hedge with a listening expression on their faces. ‘I can’t hear anything.’
‘Ssh! Of course you can’t,’ whispered John. ‘Cats! Talking! The other side of the hedge.’ And at the same time he held out his hand so that Rosemary could slip her finger through the golden band of the magic ring. And at once she heard a high-and-mighty cat voice say in surprise:
‘Calidor! Here alone in Broomhurst country?’ And although it was a purring voice, it had a cold and cruel undertone. ‘My faithful Mattins!’ John and Rosemary exchanged glances. ‘This Calidor, who refuses to marry my daughter, has the impertinence to wander into my country as though it belongs to him! What do you think of that, my darling child?’
‘Grisana! It must be!’ whispered John, and Dumpsie nodded.
‘What do I think, Mama?’ drawled a second voice. ‘Calidor is nothing to me. I was resigned to becoming his wife only because our two united countries would have made a single kingdom worth my ruling later on.’
‘Dear child, always so ambitious!’ purred Grisana.
‘Of course, I should see to it that Fallowhithe cats would be taught their place. Best fish bits for Broomhurst beasts, and so on.’
‘Always thinking of other people!’ said Grisana, but the purr left her voice when she went on: ‘All the same, think of the insult to the Royal house of Castrum, when the marriage was planned so long ago. It must be avenged!’
‘Of course, I never bear a grudge,’ replied the second voice, ‘but perhaps he should be ... well ... punished!’ And the lingering hiss with which it said ‘punished’ made Dumpsie’s fur bristle.
‘That must be Melissa. The one Crumpet called Slypaws,’ whispered Rosemary.
‘Never fear, my child,’ went on Grisana. ‘For his own good, of course, he shall be well and truly ... scrodged!’ Here her voice sank to a yowling spit.
‘He has run away from Fallowhithe to become a common witch’s cat, you say, Mattins? Wretched animal! But not so wretched as he will be when we have finished with him! But I am glad to hear that you, at least, have seen the error of your ways, and have decided to give up such an unworthy trade.’
‘My witch doesn’t want me any more,’ said Mattins sulkily. ‘Says she’s found another cat she thinks will look better on her broomstick than I should. Not that I’ve seen him, mind you. She says she’ll find me a few odd jobs to do instead. Me, doing odd jobs instead of magic! Grow ... ouch!’ he spat.
‘How very humbling for you,’ said Grisana sweetly. ‘So unreliable, witches! But do not leave your witch woman, for my sake. You may overhear something quite useful. Pretend to oblige her. Come, Melissa! We must go. And remember, my good Mattins, I should like to hear more about this cat who is to take your place. You shall be rewarded for what you have told us today.’ The voices faded as the three cats moved away.
‘That beastly sneaking Mattins!’ burst out John. ‘He must have been listening to every word when Calidor was talking to us yesterday at the station. No wonder he ran off when we called to him.’
‘But I thought he was Calidor’s friend?’ said Rosemary.
‘Well, he doesn’t seem to be now,’ said John shortly. ‘We must warn him!’
‘And about Grisana too,’ said Rosemary. ‘Come on. We must hurry. Hi! Dumpsie, wait for us!’
The little cat was already limping ahead as fast as her three paws could carry her.
‘Oh, make haste! Make haste! Calidor is in danger!’
John scooped her up from the road, and together they all three hurried towards the station.
‘I wish to goodness Carbonel was here,’ said Rosemary. ‘I wonder why he doesn’t come? I’m sure he’d know what to do about Calidor and Grisana.’
‘And the Golden Gew-Gaw. I don’t trust that ring,’ said John. ‘We still don’t know what has happened to the Scrabbles.’
‘I wonder if the instructions really were in the purple cracker, and we just didn’t find them,’ went on Rosemary.
‘It’s possible ...’ John, who was carrying Dumpsie, broke off. ‘Ow! That hurt. You scratched me!’
‘I know. I meant to,’ said Dumpsie coolly. ‘Because you won’t listen. Just go on yammer, yammer, you do. I’ve been trying to tell you. Carbonel has disappeared! Gone! And nobody don’t know where he be. That’s what I’ve come all the way from Fallowhithe to tell Calidor.’
10. Where is Carbonel?
WHEN they reached the hole in the hedge, John and Rosemary slowed down.
‘After all, we’ve got as much right as Miss Dibdin to be in the station, though I suppose I’d better not go into the Ladies’ Waiting Room again,’ said John.
‘That’s Miss Dibdin’s special place,’ Rosemary explained to Dumpsie. ‘She’s Cal ... I mean Crumpet’s witch. I don’t think she likes us much, specially John. Let’s hope she isn’t there.’
‘S’pose I go first and find out?’ said Dumpsie. ‘She won’t mind the likes of me. I’ll give one yowl if there’s no one there, and two if there is. Just you wait round the corner.’
She limped out of sight, and John and Rosemary waited ... and waited. But there was not so much as a mew from Dumpsie.
‘Come on,’ said John at last. ‘We’d better go and see what’s happening.’
They tiptoed cautiously up on to the platform. It all seemed much the same as before, except for a large pile of what looked like firewood, stacked by the door to the booking office. There was no sign of Miss Dibdin. Dumpsie and Calidor were sitting side by side on the battered station bench. Their two tails were intertwined, and they were gazing at one another with unblinking eyes. Dumpsie was making little croodling noises in her throat, and round the gentle sound Calidor wove a mighty purr. ‘As though they were singing a part-song together,’ as John said afterwards.
‘She’s forgotten all about us!’ said Rosemary.
At the sound of her voice the two cats stopped singing abruptly, and turned quickly round.
‘Welcome, Hearing Humans!’ said Crumpet. ‘I am more grateful than I can say for your kindness to my friend Dumpsie. So Grisana and Sly-paws are on the war-path? You began explaining some further cause for alarm,’ he turned towards Dumpsie, ‘when we broke off on to ... well, more, personal matters. And I hear that Mattins — may his whiskers wilt! — has turned traitor!’
‘But there’s worse to tell,’ broke in Dumpsie. ‘That’s what I came all the way from Fallowhithe for. King Carbonel has disappeared! No one knows where.’
‘My father disappeared!’ said Crumpet in astonishment.
‘I thought you ought to know,’ went on Dumpsie. ‘And me being the only one as knowed where you were ... well, here I be ... Oh, I told no one else, trust me!’
‘And she came all that long way with a wounded paw!’ added Rosemary.