When the sound of the horn blew across the grounds,126the boys began to run back to the school. Neither of them saw Dagbert Endless moving out of the trees, close to the castle entrance.
Charlie's trumpet lesson always finished early. Sehor Alvaro now taught all the brass band students and was generally very successful. He was young and cheerful, with an interesting mustache and smiling, almond-shaped eyes. In Sehor Alvaro's opinion, Charlie could have played the trumpet tolerably well, if he put his mind to it. But the boy with riotous hair seemed unable to concentrate.
Today Charlie was happy to be released ten minutes before lunch.
"Do you think it eez possible you spare some time to practice this week?" asked Sehor Alvaro pleasantly.
"Urn, yes, sir," said Charlie, who was already wondering how he could get a moment alone with Cook.
"Gracias," called Sehor Alvaro as Charlie pounded down the hallway.127Finding Cook was not as difficult as Charlie had imagined. She was sitting at one of the tables in the blue cafeteria, having a cup of tea with a white-haired, robust-looking man: Dr.
Saltweather.
"A bit early for lunch, aren't we, Charlie Bone?" Dr. Saltweather remarked. "Shouldn't you still be in class?"
"Sehor Alvaro let me go; I hadn't practiced enough," Charlie confessed.
Dr. Saltweather sighed. He was head of music and felt responsible for Charlie's lack of progress. Charlie's father was the cathedral organist and a brilliant musician, but Charlie seemed to have inherited none of his father's talent. Dr. Saltweather was aware of Charlie's extraordinary endowment, however, and had a certain amount of sympathy for the boy.
"I wanted to ask Cook about Mr. Onimous," said Charlie.
"Mr. Onimous?" Cook's rosy face took on an anxious look. "He's not too well, Charlie.
He's in the hospital.128Concussion. Poor Mrs. Onimous is beside herself."
"And... and the animals?" asked Charlie.
"Well, the Flames can look after themselves," Cook said confidently, "and you can tell Billy that his rat is quite safe. He's with Mrs. Kettle."
"And the boa?" said Charlie.
"Same place, Charlie. The Kettle Shop."
Dr. Saltweather stood up and pushed in his chair. "I hear the Pets' Cafe has been closed,"
he said.
Cook nodded. "My poor friends. Councillor Loom was responsible."
"That's terrible." Dr. Saltweather strode toward the door. "Something must be done about it," he boomed.
The music teacher's commanding tone gave Charlie a surge of hope. "D'you think Dr.
Saltweather can do something about the cafe?" he asked Cook.
"He'll certainly try. But he'll be up against some pretty powerful people, and I wouldn't like him to put himself in danger." Cook carried the two129mugs to the counter and Charlie followed with the teapot and two empty plates. "There are certain people in this city who've been just waiting to finish off the Pets' Cafe." Cook went on, "They don't like you children meeting up on the weekend and hatching plots."
"We don't hatch plots," Charlie said indignantly.
"No? Think about it, Charlie. Oh, I know your plots are all for the best reasons, but they don't like it."
"But the Pets' Cafe is a good place, Cook. It's a happy place. Where else can pets meet and enjoy great food? It's not just useful to us; hundreds of people love it."
"You don't have to tell me, Charlie." Cook lifted the lid from a pan of fish stew on the counter and sniffed. "I'd better check the kitchen and see what my lunch ladies are up to."
Charlie stood by the counter, patiently waiting for someone to come and ladle out the stew. Other music students began to arrive and by the time130one of the lunch ladies turned up, a long line had formed behind Charlie.
Once he had been served, Charlie went to his favorite table in the corner of the cafeteria.
Before long, he was joined by Gabriel, Billy, and Fidelio. The stew was soon gone, and as they lined up for their dessert, Fidelio remarked that Dagbert Endless was missing.
"Probably ate too much fish over the weekend," Gabriel remarked.
Charlie wouldn't have laughed so heartily if he had known what Dagbert was up to. In fact, he wouldn't have laughed at all.
It wasn't until the end of homework that Charlie began to miss his moth. She often disappeared for a few hours; maybe she slept in the folds of a curtain or nestled behind a picture frame. Charlie never knew. But in the evening she would usually flutter onto his arm or his shoulder, as if she were reassuring him that she was near, and then she would fly off again.131This time, Claerwen's absence worried Charlie. As he left the King's room, he asked Billy if he had seen the moth.
"Not since she was on your arm this morning," said Billy.
Gabriel hadn't seen her, nor had Emma.
"She'll turn up," said Lysander. "Probably eating a spider somewhere."
"Or being eaten by a bat," said Tancred.
Lysander dug him in the ribs. "Cut it out, Tanc. Charlie loves that moth."
Dagbert Endless passed them silently. Charlie noticed that he wore a slight smile. Had he been listening to their conversation?
Dagbert didn't go straight to the dormitory, like the others. He slipped down the main staircase and crossed the hall.
Dr. Saltweather chose that moment to leave the staff room. "Where do you think you're going, Dagbert Endless?" he demanded.132"I've got to show the talents master some work," Dagbert said casually.
"Be quick about it, then," said Dr. Saltweather. "It'll be lights-out in fifteen minutes."
"Yes, sir." Dagbert ran down the passage to his classroom. He went to a desk at the back of the room and opened the lid. Inside the desk lay something resembling a fine white handkerchief. Dorcas had done her work well. On Dagbert's instructions, she had gone to the sewing room during lunch and had quickly woven a nice little net. It was made of the finest muslin and fixed to a long bamboo cane, helpfully provided by Weedon. Just to make sure the net would do what Dagbert intended, Dorcas had dipped the muslin in the juice of a rare herb: still-wort. She had never used the herb before and was interested to see if it would work.
It had worked very well. The moth inside the net lay so still it appeared to be dead.
"Did you catch it?" Dorcas peered around the door.
132133"It was easy," said Dagbert. "I've taken it off the pole. Come and look."
Dorcas crept over to Dagbert's desk. He picked up the muslin net and laid it across his palms. Inside the net the white moth's wings rose and fell, just once, as though it were taking its last breath.
"It's not dead, then," said Dorcas, disappointment clouding her plump face.
"It will be soon," Dagbert told her. He laid the net on his desk and went to the supply cabinet, where Mr. Carp, the English teacher, kept a thick glass jar.
Dagbert brought the jar over to his desk and eased the opening of the net around the top of the glass. The white moth fell in.
"There," said Dagbert. "Now I'll take it to Manfred."
"You will tell him I helped, won't you?" said Dorcas. "I mean, I did make the net and the poison and everything."
"Of course I'll tell him, Dorc. You're a genius, you know that?"134"Yes, I do." A smile dimpled her cheeks.
Dagbert covered the jar with the muslin and carried it to the door. Dorcas rushed to open it for Dagbert, who sailed through with a muttered "Thanks" and continued across the hall. Dorcas flew ahead of him and opened the small, ancient door that led to the west wing.
"You will tell him, won't you?" begged Dorcas again,
"I said I would," Dagbert replied, stepping into the dark passage behind the door. "Better get to bed, Dorc, or Matron'll come down on you."
"And Manfred will tell Fairy Tilpin about me, won't he?" Dorcas went on. "She'll be so pleased."
"YES!" Dagbert gave the door a backward kick and it slammed in Dorcas's face.
Students seldom went to the west wing. It was home to the Bloor family, and they didn't like staff or children intruding. At the far end of the hall, a dim light could be seen in the room at the base of the music tower. Dagbert made his way toward the light.135The