to the kitchen, then took up a dishcloth. "You wash and I'll wipe, Winnie. We'll soon get these dishes cleared away,
and please stop worrying, everything will turn out all right, you've got me and Ned to help you now."
She shook her head and smiled. "Ned can't help with the dishes." Turning away from the sink, Mrs. Winn found
herself staring into the boy's wise blue eyes.
"You'd be surprised how me and Ned can help you!" he said.
15.
AS SUNLIGHT STREAMED THROUGH THE window onto the counterpane, a dairy cart clattered by in the
lane. Ben wakened gradually, taking stock of his new sur-roundings. The house was quiet, which gave him the feeling
it was quite early. He let his gaze wander from the lace curtains and the warm July day outside. Stretching lazily, he
lay back, studying the flowered wallpaper and the small iron-and-tile fireplace with a lacquered screen standing on its
hearth. He heard the hall clock chime faintly from downstairs and counted each chime.... Ten!
Leaping out of bed, he dressed hastily, rushed to the bathroom, splashed water on his face, and dashed
downstairs, having to leap the last three to avoid tripping over Horatio.
Ned was sitting in the kitchen beside an empty bowl. He nodded at Ben. "Morning. Sleep well?"
The boy answered the thought as he picked up a note from the table. "Why didn't you come up and wake me
earlier?"
The dog put his front paws up on the table alongside his mate. "Didn't want to disturb any plans you were
sleeping on, you know, to help Mrs. Winn. What does her note say?"
Ben scanned the scrap of paper. " 'Gone to village to do some shopping, porridge in pot on range, make tea for
yourself. See you later. Winnie.' "
He felt the pot, it was still hot. So was the tea in the teapot. The boy served himself and sat at the table, thinking.
"She can't have gone too long ago."
The big black Lab blinked patiently. "Not more than ten minutes or so. Well, what's the plan, O wise master?"
Over the centuries, Ben had come to appreciate the dog's banter. Dishing himself a large bowl of porridge, he
conversed as he ate.
"A library, that's it, Ned. If Chapelvale has a library, that'd be a good place for us to start. It would probably
have local history and reference books concerning this area. Might give us a lead or two."
The Lab snorted. "A lead: was that meant to be a joke? Libraries aren't fond of dogs roaming 'round loose
among the books. Not great readers, us dogs."
Ben poured tea, stirring in lots of sugar. "Right, Ned, so what are your plans for the day?"
The dog trotted out of the kitchen, passing on his thoughts. "Open the front door, mate, I think I'll take a stroll
'round the village. Keep the old ears open, y'know. Might hear some information to pass on to the young master, eh?"
Ben grinned. "I'm older than you. Let me see, I was born in 1607, that makes me two hundred and eighty-nine
years old. You were only four when I met you. That makes you, er, two hundred and eighty. So be more respectful to
your elders, pup!"
Ned turned and poked his head around the doorway. "Pup indeed! Listen, laddie, one human year is equal to
eight dog years. So that makes me ... er, hmmm ... a lot older than you by far, so show a little respect and mind your
manners!"
The boy, his hair an unruly thatch, watched his friend trot off down the path. "Go easy now, old fellow, it'll
soon be time for your nap. Hahaha!"
The dog turned and wrinkled his nose. "Silence, insolent child!"
After breakfast Ben saw Alex and Amy Somers in the lane, and nodded back at the house. "D'you like my new
place?"
Amy giggled. "That's Miz Winn's house, she's nice. We went there with Dad when he treated her cat. Are you
staying there, Ben?"
The boy flicked the hair from his eyes. "For a while. Listen, you two, I need your help again. You know
Chapelvale, is there a local library hereabouts?"
The girl pointed. "Over by the school, actually it's attached to our village school. The librarian is Mr.
Braithwaite. He works in the library right through the summer holidays. You'll like him, he's funny."
Alex led the way. "Come on, we'll take you there. What do you want, some kind of special book? Where's your
dog today?"
Ben strolled along with the friendly pair. "Oh, he's around somewhere. He often goes off on lone rambles. I was
wondering if I might get hold of a book about the local history of Chapelvale. I'm trying to help Mrs. Winn prove her
claim to the land hereabout."
Amy pulled a face. "Oh that, you should hear the names our dad calls Mr. Smithers. If Smithers has his way, it
looks like we will be moving to Hadford soon."
Ben noticed the angry look on the girl's pretty face. "Hadford, where's that?"
Alex explained. "It's the nearest big town, all factories and streets full of chimney smoke. Dad won't lose his job,
he's the veterinary surgeon for most of the county, but if Smithers buys every shop in the village and sets up his
quarry and cement works, everyone will have to move. I'd hate to live in Hadford! Chapelvale's a good little village.
We like it here."
Ben nodded. "Good! Then let's see what we can do to save the old place. Will you help me?"
His new friend's eyes shone with excitement. "I'll say we will!"
Mr. Braithwaite had a slight stoop, and small spectacles balanced on the end of his nose. He also had a huge
cloud of frizzy grey hair, which he constantly scratched at absent-mindedly. As Ben and his friends entered the library,
Mr. Braithwaite glanced up over his glasses at them. "Hmm, er, Alexander and Amelia, er, er, Somers, isn't it, hmm
yes, right, er. Not like you two t'be in the er, library when the hmm, school's finished for summer, er, er, no indeed!"
Amy introduced their new friend. "Sir, this is Ben, he wants to look at local history books. We're trying to save
the village, you see."
The librarian-cum-schoolmaster came out from behind his counter. Scratching his head with one hand, whilst
brushing dandruff from his collar with the other, he peered at the strange boy with blue eyes.
"Hmm, ah yes, very good! Is there, er, any specific reference you wanted to er, see, young, er .. . man?"
Ben tried his best to look intelligent and polite. "Yes sir, I'd like to look at anything in connection with
Chapelvale and the Winn family, please."
Mr. Braithwaite nodded furiously, a pencil falling from behind his ear as he warmed to his favorite subject.
"Hmm, mm, mm, yes, Chapelvale, Winn family, very good! I'm er, actually er, quite a noted, er, devotee of hmm,
local history. Now, if I'm, er, correct, the volume you want is called, er, Village Chronicles of the British Isles, part, er,
four! Yes, very good, very good, by Roger, let me see, Russell Hope. By Roger Hope Russell, er, pardon me!"
They followed him as he scurried animatedly to a back shelf and knelt on the floor, his head to one side,
muttering. "Domesday Commentary, Anglo-Saxon Settlements ... Aha! Here 'tis, the very volume, er, er, indeed!"
The huge, dusty, leather-bound volume made an echoing thud when Mr. Braithwaite slammed it on the table.
With the enthusiasm of an amateur historian, he scoured the index. "Chapelmount, Chapel Norton, Chapelton... Yes,
yes, got it! Page 986, appendix B."
Leafing through the yellowed pages, Mr. Braithwaite found the relevant item. He stood scratching his frizzy
mop in a shaft of sunlight, until he was surrounded by a halo of dandruff. He nodded approvingly as Ben read aloud