But the children weren’t listening. They were hugging each other, then dancing around the room — and Mirella’s eyes had filled with tears of relief and happiness.
Charlie was a dog. Charlie was himself and nothing else. Charlie was Charlie!
CHAPTER 18
Mustering Princes
The Grumblers, who had fled from the dungeon, were on their way back home. They had managed to get a fishing boat to take them to the port of Osterhaven and were waiting for the overnight ferry bound for Great Britain, when Mr. Hummock pointed to a notice on the harbor wall.
“My goodness, look!” he said. “It’s that wretched girl who tried to get ahead of us with the ogre and told us about the blood and the syringes and all that. Princess Mirella.”
His wife came to look and sure enough, there was Mirella with her thin face and her wild dark hair. But it was what was written underneath the notice that really excited them.
REWARD it said in huge letters, and then: A HUNDRED THOUSAND POUNDS IS OFFERED TO ANYONE WHO CAN GIVE INFORMATION ABOUT THE WHEREABOUTS OF THE PRINCESS. PLEASE APPLY TO THE MAJOR-DOMO, MONTEFINO PALACE, WATERFIELD.
The couple turned to each other excitedly.
“That’s a lot of money,” said Mr. Hummock. “Why don’t I go to Waterfield and claim it, and then I can send you your share.”
But his wife thought that this was a bad idea. They had decided to get a divorce and live in different places. “I don’t trust you,” she said.
So they decided to go together, and instead of boarding the ferry, which was going back to Britain, they waited for the local boat, which puttered around the island and ended its journey at Waterfield Docks.
“There are two people who say they have news of the Princess Mirella, Your Majesty,” said the majordomo.
Mirella’s mother leaped to her feet and called for her husband.
“Show them in quickly, quickly,” she said.
The Hummocks appeared. Each of them wanted to be the one to break the news, so they talked together and interrupted each other — but in the end Mirella’s parents understood that their daughter was in the castle of the dreaded Ogre of Oglefort and in great danger.
“Oh heavens!” said the queen, clutching her heart. “Oh how dreadful — oh my poor dear girl!”
“We must send an army to rescue her at once,” said the king. “There is no time to be lost.”
So the Grumblers were sent off to get their reward, and the king and queen set to, to organize an army to slay the ogre and rescue their daughter from the evil monster’s clutches.
“Phillipe must bring his soldiers,” said the king.
Phillipe was the prince with the stamp collection, the one who had married their eldest daughter, Sidony.
“And Tomas must bring some of his troops,” said his wife.
Tomas was the prince who sucked peppermints because he worried about his breath and was married to their second daughter, Angeline.
“But of course it is Umberto who must be at the head of the whole army,” agreed the king and queen. “And there is no time to be lost.”
So messengers were sent to Prince Phillipe and to Prince Tomas and to Prince Umberto, who was after all Mirella’s proposed bridegroom.
The princes were not pleased at all. None of them wanted to confront an ogre, and their wives cried dreadfully.
Sidony cried because she was expecting a baby, and she begged her husband to stay at home.
“What if poor little Sweetie Pie was to grow up without a father?” she asked.
Angeline cried even harder, because she wasn’t just expecting one baby, she was expecting twins.
“I couldn’t bring up the Little Puddings all by myself,” she sobbed. “I simply couldn’t.”
But of course they knew really that their husbands had to do their duty.
The most difficult to persuade was Prince Umberto, who had never in his life led an army or done anything braver than throw a wooden ball at a coconut, but he had no choice. He now owed so much money that without Mirella’s father to bail him out he would have had to flee from his country or risk imprisonment, so he hurried to Waterfield in a very grand uniform and chose the most valuable horse in the royal stables for his mount. To the sound of a splendid brass band, the three princes rode off to rescue Mirella from the vile and dreadful ogre who had her in his power.
The army which set forth looked impressive, though in truth it was composed mainly of friends of the princes and their servants. There were the Household Guards in gold and purple with white plumes in their helmets, and the Royal Fusiliers in green and yellow with velvet caps, and the Soldiers of the Bedchamber in crimson and velvet. True, none of them had ever been in a battle, and there was a serious shortage of weapons and ammunition, but the people who cheered and waved and shouted as the army marched away were not upset by this. The schoolchildren were given a holiday, and that night there was feasting and rejoicing in the town because everyone was certain that the ogre would be slain and the Princess Mirella returned to them.
CHAPTER 19
Whipple Road
When Ivo was not returned to the children’s home on the day he was due back, the principal sent around the orphanage secretary to investigate.
The secretary banged on the door but nobody came. Mr. Prendergast was at work and Gladys was under her stone in the backyard. In any case even in her heyday when she was properly magical, Gladys had never been able to open doors.
So the secretary went away and came back the next day and the next, but still she couldn’t get in. By now the principal of the orphanage was worried. It was true that Ivo was only one of eighty-seven boys in the Home and she’d never noticed him particularly, but that wasn’t the point. A child in her care was missing and something had to be done about it.
So she came back with the secretary after working hours, and this time she found Mr. Prendergast at home. The enchantress and the henkies had moved in with friends, but kind Mr. Prendergast had stayed to look after the house.
“I’m afraid they have gone on a mission,” he explained, “and the boy is with them. I’ve been expecting them back every day but there has been no sign of them.”
The principal was absolutely outraged. “They had absolutely no right to take Ivo,” she said. “It amounts to kidnapping.”
At this point Mrs. Brainsweller, who had seen the orphanage van, came running in from two doors down with her hair flying and said her son, too, had disappeared.
“I managed to keep contact with him till a few days ago, but now he’s been blotted out,” she said. “Absolutely blotted! There’s a horrid gray mist over his face.”
So the head of the orphanage, who obviously thought that Mrs. Brainsweller’s son was a little boy, too, went to the police, and they put up posters with very strange descriptions of the Hag and the troll (but no photographs because neither of them would ever have their pictures taken). The notice was headed CHILD SNATCHERS and underneath it said: HAVE YOU SEEN THESE PEOPLE? IF SO, DO NOT APPROACH THEM — THEY ARE HIGHLY DANGEROUS, BUT CONTACT YOUR NEAREST POLICE STATION IMMEDIATELY.
There was also a very smudged photograph of Ivo taken on a school picnic with thirty other children and an arrow which said: THE MISSING BOY. (Actually the arrow was pointing to a boy called Bernard Sloope, but this is the kind of thing that happens in school photographs.)
But nobody came forward, so Ivo was put on the Missing Persons Register. Nor was there a reward for anyone coming to the police with information, because he was only an orphan and not a prince.