فصل 48

CHAPTER 48

THE SCOTLAND LANDING

THE DRIVER OF THE HORSE-DRAWN TAXICAB was initially reluctant to take the odd-looking passengers, especially Peter, wearing island rags, and Wendy, missing a shoe. But when Neville handed the driver a pound note, he quickly relented, allowing the six of them to squeeze into the cab, with John and Michael, terrified from their encounter with the Skeleton, sitting on Mrs. Bumbrake’s ample lap. Peter, still in pain, needed Wendy’s help to climb in. He sat in silence, looking down.

The taxicab rumbled through the dark streets for fifteen minutes, then stopped in front of a narrow three-story building on a quiet street near Sloane Square called Draycott Place. Neville looked at the building doubtfully. It was completely dark, not a glimmer of light showing in any of its windows. “Are you certain this is it?” he asked the driver.

“I am, guv’nor,” said the driver. He pointed toward a small sign by the door that said:

SCOTLAND LANDING HOTEL NO VACANCY

“I’ve passed this hotel a thousand times,” said the driver. “It never has a vacancy.”

“Really,” said Neville.

“Are you sure this is where you want to go?” said the driver.

“We are,” said Wendy, before Neville could answer.

They piled out of the taxicab, and Neville paid the driver, who flicked his reins and disappeared into the night. Wendy approached the door and tried the knob. It was locked. There was no doorbell button or pull rope, so she knocked three times. There was no answer. She tried again, and again, each time pounding harder, but still getting no response.

“I’m cold,” said Michael, huddling close to Mrs. Bumbrake.

“Me too,” said John.

“Perhaps we should try to find another hotel,” said Neville.

“Grandfather told me to come here,” said Wendy. “We need to be someplace safe, with the police looking for us.”

“They’ll find us anyway if we’re standing out here in the street,” observed Mrs. Bumbrake.

Wendy knocked again. Still no answer. “There must be somebody here,” she said. “Why don’t they answer the door?”

Just then the door opened, and out poked an enormous head. It belonged to an equally enormous man, with a wild mane of white hair flowing into a bushy white beard. Peter was sure he’d seen this man before, but he couldn’t quite think where.

“Can’t you see the sign?” the man growled. “There’s no …” His eyes fell on Peter. “Hold on.” He stepped outside; his shoulders were so wide they barely fit through the door. He was barefoot, wearing only a nightgown the size of a tent. He moved close to Peter, peering down into his face, then nodded. “You’re the boy who was at Stonehenge,” he said. “Remember me?”

“You were at Lord Aster’s country house,” Peter said. “You’re the man with the animals.”

The man grinned, his beard parting to reveal a set of huge white teeth. “That I am. Magill’s my name. And you are …”

“Peter.”

“That’s right, Peter,” said Magill. “And still a boy after all these years.” He did not appear to be surprised by this. Glancing around at the others, he said, “Who are your friends, Peter?”

“My name is Wendy Darling,” said Wendy. “I’m Leonard Aster’s granddaughter.”

Magill’s eyes brightened. “And how is Lord Aster?” he asked.

Wendy hesitated, then said, “There’s been some trouble.”

Magill’s smile disappeared. “Come right in,” he said.

They entered the hotel, and Magill, after bolting the door, led them down a hallway into a drawing room. It had a pungent, musky aroma and was quite dark, the only light coming from a few glowing coals in the fireplace. In the far corner a massive figure, even larger than Magill and remarkably hairy, dozed in an overstuffed chair, snoring loudly.

“Don’t mind Karl,” said Magill.

Karl, thought Peter. Somehow he knew that name. …

Uncle Neville stepped closer to the sleeping form and peered at it for a moment.

“My word,” he said. “Is that a …”

“A bear!” said Peter, remembering.

“Oh dear,” said Mrs. Bumbrake, pulling Michael and John close.

“You have a bear in your hotel?” said Wendy.

“It’s not really a hotel,” said Magill. “We’ve no guests. After Lord Aster became too ill to travel to his country house, he brought me here to London, to be close by. Just in case, he said.”

“And you brought Karl,” said Peter.

“Well, of course I did,” said Magill. “I couldn’t very well leave him up there alone, at his age, now could I?”

“But…he’s a bear,” said Wendy.

“He’s better behaved than a lot of Londoners,” said Magill.

“You keep him inside?” said Peter. “All the time?”

“No, I take him out sometimes,” said Magill. “At night. He wears a coat and hat, and we stick to the darker areas. Sometimes we visit with the wolves in Hyde Park.”

“The wolves?” said Wendy and Peter together.

“They come down occasionally from Salisbury Plain to visit,” said Magill. “Although they wouldn’t want to live here.”

In the corner chair, Karl, apparently awakened by the noise, shifted his massive form and opened his eyes. He looked around the room at the visitors, then emitted a deep, rumbling growl.

“It’s all right, Karl,” said Magill. He made a growling sound of his own, and Karl, apparently satisfied, resumed dozing. Magill turned to Wendy. “We’ve talked enough about my situation,” he said. “Tell me about Lord Aster, and this trouble you mentioned.”

As quickly as she could, Wendy summarized what had happened—the suspicions about von Schatten; the mysterious disappearances; Leonard Aster’s concern that the Others intended to reattach the missing tip to the Sword of Mercy, then use it to open the Cache of starstuff.

“Grandfather said we must stop them,” said Wendy. “That’s why I went to get Peter. But now that we’ve returned”—Wendy’s voice quavered; she took a breath and went on—“it seems my father’s gone missing, too. Mrs. Bumbrake said he’s not been in touch for days. We can’t go to the police; von Schatten controls them. Just now we barely escaped Grandfather’s house. The police came with a…a horrible creature, who very nearly killed Peter. Had it not been for Grandfather’s fighting him, we’d not be here.”

“Lord Aster fought him?” said Magill.

“Bravely. And he saved us,” said Wendy, glancing at Peter, who was looking down. She decided not to tell Magill about the scream.

For a moment the room was silent, save for a long rumbling snore from Karl. Then Magill said, “If Lord Aster sent you here for help, it’s help you’ll get. What do you need?”

Wendy looked at Peter, then back at Magill. “We don’t really know,” she said.

“That makes it more difficult,” said Magill.

Uncle Neville, who had been listening intently as Wendy explained the situation, cleared his throat. “It seems to me,” he said, “that if we want to stop this von Schatten from opening the Cache, it would be helpful to know where the Cache is, so we could try to prevent him from getting to it.”

“We don’t know where it is,” said Wendy. “All we know is that Grandfather said something about ‘confess.’”

“Confess what?” said Neville.

“We don’t know,” said Wendy.

“I see,” said Neville. “Then the other way to stop von Schatten would be to prevent him from using the sword as a key.”

“How?” said Wendy.

“If I understand you correctly,” said Uncle Neville, “the sword will open the Cache only if the tip has been reattached.”

“That’s what Grandfather said.”

“Then perhaps we can get the tip ourselves,” said Neville.

“But we’ve no idea where it is,” said Wendy. “And von Schatten may have it already.”

“Yes, I assume he does,” said Neville. “But until the coronation, the Sword of Mercy will be locked away in the Tower with the other crown jewels. Meanwhile, the tip is likely somewhere here in London, awaiting reattachment. Perhaps we could get it first.”

“How?” said Peter.

“I don’t know,” admitted Neville. “I’m just looking for areas of weakness that might be attacked. It would help if we knew something about the tip and how it would be reattached. Would it be a job for a blacksmith?”

“I don’t know,” said Wendy, frowning, “but I know somebody who might: Uncle Ted.”

“Ted?” said Peter.

“His colleague, actually,” said Wendy. “A fellow at Cambridge. Uncle Ted said he was an expert on the Sword of Mercy, and knew about the missing tip.”

“It sounds as if it might be a good idea to get in touch with that fellow,” said Neville.

“We could call Uncle Ted on the telephone,” said Wendy, “if we had a telephone.”

“There’s a telephone here,” said Magill.

“Here?” said Wendy.

“In the parlor,” said Magill. “Lord Aster had it installed. ‘Just in case,’he said. Never used it myself. Don’t know how.”

“What’s a telephone?” said Peter.

“Marvelous device,” said Neville. “Sound causes a metal diaphragm to vibrate; this in turn causes fluctuations in an electrical current passing through carbon granules. Clever, eh?”

Peter turned to Wendy. “What’s a telephone?” he said.

“I’ll show you,” said Wendy. She and Peter, followed by Uncle Neville, headed for the parlor, leaving Mrs. Bumbrake, John, and Michael nervously watching the still-dozing Karl.

After a minute of silence, John asked Magill, “What does he eat?”

“He used to eat mostly berries, nuts, insects, the occasional small animal,” said Magill. “But since we moved to London, he’s become quite fond of fish and chips.”

“How does he get them?” said John.

“I buy them from a local chippy,” said Magill. “Karl can eat a dozen orders at a time and still want more. In fact, one night I left the door unlocked and he went out looking for more. Good thing I found him before he found the chippy.” Magill laughed heartily. Seeing the non-amused expression on Mrs. Bumbrake’s face, he stopped abruptly, then said, “It seems you’ll be staying here at the Scotland Landing. What sort of room do you prefer?”

“I prefer a room,” said Mrs. Bumbrake, “that is as far as possible from the bear.”