closed the gate and ranted at them in high bad humor. "That beast should be destroyed—it nearly attacked me! I'll call
a constable if you set it on me again!"
The boy turned to face him, smiling at first. Then the smile went from his face. With eyes like two chips of blue
ice, he stared at the big, stout man. Smithers was lost for words. Those eyes. He shuddered, transfixed by the strange
lad. There was neither fear nor respect in the boy's silent gaze, only contempt. Dismissing him, the boy turned away
and walked off with the dog loping alongside him.
Snorting indignantly, Smithers turned to the girl. "Did y'see that? Impudent young blaggard. If he crosses my
path again I'll lay this stick about him, and that growlin' cur, too, see if I don't!"
Ignoring his bluster, Maud went to stand by the cart, and Smithers turned his wrath upon the driver. "What're
you standing there gawking at? Let's get going!"
Outside the station, Ben and Ned stood at the top of the lane looking down toward the village, which nestled
snugly in a valley between two hills. Roads leading in and out were little better than broad tracks of well-trodden,
hard-packed earth, old and dusty. None of them straight paths, they meandered and rambled quaintly. Some were
skirted by hedges of privet and hawthorn, overhung by elm, beech, and holm oak trees. Others had dry stone wall
edgings, the soft greystone chinked with moss and bordered by hogweed, dandelion, and yarrow. The far hill had a
spired church on its brow. Cottages and small landholdings dotted patchwork fields where sheep, cows, and horses
grazed. Ben stared at the not-too-distant village square with its black and white Tudor shops and buildings, none over
two stories high. He passed a thought to his friend.
"There's the chapel on the hill and the village in the valley. Chapelvale. What do you think, Ned?"
The Labrador's tail wagged idly. "Sleepy little place. I hope the people are nicer than that big, blathering lard
barrel we met at the station. I like it, Ben, but what are we supposed to be doing here?"
Ben scratched behind the dog's ear. "It's got me stumped. We both had the same feeling—this was the place to
get off the train. Let's go and take a look at the village. If nothing comes up, we might just move on to somewhere
else."
A boy and girl, obviously brother and sister, were walking up the lane toward the greystone station. The girl
was about Ben's age, the boy slightly younger.
Ben waved cheerily at them. "Hello there, wonder could you help us?"
They immediately warmed to Ben's friendly manner. He looked a carefree type, with his unruly blond hair and
blue eyes, long white canvas pants and a crewneck cream sweater, and a coat that appeared slightly large. There was
an air about him, as if he had some sort of seafaring experience. The big, black Labrador with him was wagging its
tail, a nice, companionable dog. The boy stroked it.
"We haven't seen you two around Chapelvale before, are you new here? How can we help you? This is a fine
dog you've got!"
"What an intelligent boy, he recognized quality right off!"
Ben cut across the Lab's thoughtful remark. "We're straight off the train, never been here before. I'm Ben, which
is Neb backwards, short for Nebuchadnezzar. This fellow is Ned, which is Den backwards, short for Denmark. Bit of
an odd name for a dog, ain't it?"
The girl, who had dark hair and brown eyes, was very pretty, even prettier when she smiled. "Nebuchad . . .
what? Sorry, my name's Amy, Amy Somers. This is my brother Alex. I'm quite nice, but he's fairly dreadful
sometimes. What is it you want, Ben?"
"Er, someplace we can get something to eat. We're absolutely famished, aren't we, Ned?"
The dog nodded. Alex looked startled.
"Ned, your dog ... he just nodded his head?"
Ben scratched Ned's neck roughly. "It's just his collar, it bothers him on warm summer days. Now, is there
anywhere we can buy some food?"
Alex thought a moment, frowning. "I think you'll be out of luck, Ben, shops are closed today, but take a stroll
around the village square. Maybe you'll find something, though I doubt it. Good luck anyway."
Ben and Ned moved off.
Amy called after them hopefully. "Will you be staying in Chapelvale, Ben?"
He winked at her and smiled secretively. "Who knows, maybe."
Alex called out rather anxiously. "Be careful, Ben, watch out for the Grange Gang!"
The strange boy shrugged carelessly. "Who are the Grange Gang?"
"A gang of rotten bullies who go about trying to make people's life a misery. Particularly strangers and old
people."
Amy warned, "I'd steer clear of them if I were you."
Ben turned to look at Amy. She felt her skin prickle at the sudden iciness in his strange blue eyes. Then it was
gone, and he chuckled quietly.
"Don't worry about us, pals. We've met gangs before!"
Amy watched Ben and his dog wander off down the lane. "I'll bet they have, too. He's the oddest boy I've ever
seen, but I like him."
Alex found himself agreeing with his older sister. "I do, too, I don't know why. And that black Labrador ... I
wish we had a dog like it. I hope they stay. D'you think they will, Amy?"
His sister repeated the strange boy's words. "Who knows, maybe."
Alex had been right—all the shops in the market square were closed for the afternoon. It was as if Chapelvale
were taking a long siesta in the summer heat. The worn cobblestone paving, whitewashed walls, and heavy black
beams, combined with blue-grey slate roofing and dark green roller blinds in shop windows, accentuated the lazy
noontide stillness and the absence of folk out shopping.
The boy and his dog crossed the square together and made their way up the big, sloping hill behind the village.
Shops thinned out, and so did the houses after a while. Ned gave Ben a sad look. "Please tell me we're not looking for
another barn to spend the night in."
Ben passed his thoughts back to the Labrador. "We never asked to turn up in this village. I'm sure the angel has
guided us here. Just thank your lucky stars it's a peaceful little country place."
The dog raised his eyes mournfully. "Oh, it's peaceful enough."
Ben tickled his ear fondly. "Stop grumbling, a barn is better than a dry ditch beneath a hedge. We'll get a good
breakfast tomorrow morning, as soon as everywhere is open. Bacon, sausage, toast, eggs ..."
Ned let his tail droop. "D'you mind, my tummy's rumbling!"
12.
A FAT PEAR, BROWN WITH ROT, SPLATTERED against the parlor window, causing the black cat inside to
leap down from the sill, where it had been sunning itself. Old Mrs. Winn watched the overripe pulp slide down the
glass, then heard the chanting begin. It came from behind the thick fringe of purple-and-white rhododendron bushes
growing at the bottom of her sloping lawn. "Winn Winn, Winnie the Witch! Winnie the Witch and her big black cat!
Winn Winn, Winnie the Witch!" This was followed by barely stifled giggling and the hollow boom of a wet earth clod
striking the old lady's front door.
She spoke to the cat, who was her only companion. "Those children are back again, Horatio. Why do they
persecute us? We've never harmed them, have we?"
Horatio jumped lightly into her lap, staring at his mistress with magnificent amber eyes, meowing faintly as he
stroked his head against her open palm. Mrs. Winn sighed.
"If Captain Winn were still alive, they wouldn't be so quick to bother us then, eh, Horatio?"