Carbonel and 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.

‘I hope I done right?’ said Dumpsie, looking anxiously at Crumpet.

‘Of course,’ he said gravely. ‘You are as brave as you are beautiful, my dear.’ She looked down modestly at her paws, and then went on:

‘Such a scurrying and hurrying there is, all over Fallowhithe, in search of His Majesty. Such mewking and miaowing in corners and on roof-tops! Them alley cats is getting out of hand, as you’d expect. Roving around the roof-tops at night singing rude songs. Queen Blandamour is at her wits’ end to know what’s to do for the best.’

‘My poor mama,’ said Crumpet soberly. ‘The alley cats are good enough creatures, but a bit wild. When did my father disappear?’

‘Three days after you left for Highdown,’ said Dumpsie.

‘That’s funny,’ said John. ‘When we talked to him at Rosie’s house, he said he could spend no more time away searching for you, and that he must get back to affairs of state.’

Calidor jumped down from the seat. He stood with head up and tail erect.

‘This matter is serious,’ he said crisply, and there was no mistaking that it was Calidor, the royal son of Carbonel, who was speaking; no longer Crumpet, the witch’s cat.

‘I must return to Fallowhithe immediately and take matters in hand. Dumpsie, you will stay here with the Hearing Humans, until your paw is healed. I must make all the haste I can, and you could not keep up with me.’

‘But whatever has happened to Carbonel?’ said Rosemary. ‘We thought it was queer when he didn’t turn up at Highdown when he said he would.’

‘He said that, did he?’ went on Calidor. ‘Then I shall search in Fallowhithe, and you will keep your eyes and ears open here. I shall depend on you.’

‘Yes, but wait a minute ...’ began John. Calidor held up a restraining paw.

‘In the meantime, look out for Grisana and Sly-paws Melissa! Guard against the traitor Mattins, and keep a watch on the goings-on at Tucket Towers.’

‘That’s all very well!’ began John again.

‘I have no time to discuss things further,’ broke in Calidor impatiently. ‘I have a long way to go. Good-bye. I shall come back.’ And with a flick of his tail he turned and hurried away down the platform.

‘Well, of all the cheek!’ said John angrily. ‘Exactly like Carbonel again, ordering us about. Do this! Do that!’

‘Well, I think he’s rather splendid,’ said Rosemary. ‘After all, he’s doing exactly what Carbonel wanted him to, without any fussing from us. You ought to be pleased. I’m sure he’s done the right thing. What do you think, Dumpsie?’

The little cat was not listening. She was gazing at the spot where Calidor had turned the corner out of sight, making the same little croodling noise, and kneading the hard boards of the platform with her front paws.

‘Eh? What’s that?’ she said, suddenly coming to. ‘Of course Calidor is right!’

‘Well, come on, Rosie,’ said John. ‘We must get going, and leave that leaflet at Tucket Towers. Hallo, it’s raining again.’

‘Then you’d best leave me behind here under the shelter,’ said Dumpsie. ‘You can’t dodge the rain-drops on three paws, and I don’t like to get my whiskers wet.’

‘But suppose Miss Dibdin comes back and finds you here?’ said Rosemary.

‘It’s easy for the likes of me to hide,’ said Dumpsie. ‘She won’t see me.’

‘If you’re sure,’ said Rosemary uncertainly.

‘We should be much quicker on our own, without wearing the ring between us,’ went on John. ‘We’re late as it is. We’ll pick you up on the way back.’

‘All right,’ said Rosemary. ‘But keep on the look-out for us, Dumpsie. We don’t want to meet Miss Dibdin again if we can help it. And do take care.’

As they hurried down the road Rosemary said: ‘I’d almost forgotten about the Scrabbles. We’ve got to see if they have gone back to their holes.’

On reaching the spot where the cat’s eye studs should have started they stopped dead. The small square holes were still empty.

‘Well, that proves it. The un-wishing didn’t work, and the Scrabbles must still be somewhere about,’ said John, as he poked a stick down one of the holes to make quite sure.

‘But if they aren’t here, wherever can they be?’ said Rosemary, looking uneasily over her shoulder.

‘It’s no good asking me,’ said John. ‘But if they’ve taken themselves off, it’s their look-out, not ours.’

‘I suppose so,’ Rosemary agreed doubtfully.

‘And what’s more,’ went on John, ‘we fussed enough yesterday because we couldn’t get rid of them, so I’m blowed if I’m going to get fussed today because they’ve gone! Bother the Scrabbles! Race you to the drive of Tucket Towers.’