At last Dot, Mr Holmes and the three dogs are getting a look at the inside of Fernbank Cottage, home of the inventor Giles Langton - and what an amazing sight they're seeing!
“Enter! Enter my humble abode!”
“Abode?” muttered Mr Mouse. “Whassat mean? Sounds like he’s got he’s got a cold! He’d better not give it to me, is all!”
“It’s an old-fashioned word for home” hissed Dot. “Do behave, Mr M!”
It may have been a funny word for home – it was also a funny place for a home!
But A-MAY-ZING!!
Mr Holmes and Dot followed Giles down some wide stone steps, all worn in the middle from where people had walked on them. Stretching out in front of them was what looked like a long, low room, with flickering oil lamps every metre or so, lighting up the interior of Fernbank Cottage.
Everywhere there where shelves with books on them, and big comfortable chairs too. The walls were covered with pictures and clocks and all sorts of bits and pieces – with just a quick look Dot could see a turban, a stuffed fish in a glass box, and even an old sword!
In the middle of the cottage, a black pot-bellied stove was crackling away, making the space cosy and warm. In the distance Dot could just make out a big four-poster bed – not made yet, tut tut!!
Next to it the three dogs were having a lovely time. They each had their own earthenware bowl, and they were tucking in to the treats Giles had promised.
“Great Scott!” said Mr Holmes. “I must congratulate you, Mr Langton!”
It was such a strange place – half-cave, half house - Dot could hardly believe her eyes. How on earth had he built it?
Looking up, she could see the thick old wooden beams that made up the roof, with more wooden planks going across them to make a solid ceiling over the cottage. The planks looked thick and heavy too, which they’d have to be, she thought, to take the weight of all the earth and grass above that hid the cottage from the world.
The sloping walls – the inside of the grassy bank that they’d found in the forest clearing - were made of wooden planks too, all blackened and shiny with age. It was a bit like being in a giant tent with a flat roof – though it also reminded Dot of somewhere she’d been – she couldn’t remember where, though. Annoying!
Every so often though, there was a big frame in the walls, set between two dull metal runners, top and bottom – almost like a railway track stuck on the wall. Next to each of the frames – which were on both sides of the cottage – were two shiny brass handles, each with a steel cord wrapped round and round it.
Giles saw her looking and smiled. “You’re looking at my Open-All Patent Window and Atmosphere Improver’!” he said. “That’ll make my fortune one day, that will!”
From below their feet came a little snort of laughter. Who was that? As far as Dot could see, the floor was solid – covered in big flagstones, fitted tightly together.
One mystery at a time, she thought to herself!
“What does it do, Mr Langton?” she asked politely – standing with her hands clasped together in her best Victorian young lady style, as she’d been told to do by Miss Walsingham.
Without answering, Giles raised a finger – and then turned the bigger of the two handles.
Without a sound – when she looked Dot could see the runners were heavily coated with grease – the frame slid back to reveal the open air, and there in front of them were the Dendringham Woods, out in the open.
“Excellent!” chuckled Mr Holmes. “First class engineering!”
“Wow!” said Dot – forgetting again that she wasn’t meant to say such things, not in 1896! Mr Mouse giggled. Giles looked puzzled. “What does “Wow” - ” he began.
Dot went red, but quickly covered her tracks with another question. “What does the little one do?” she asked, pointing at the smaller brass handle.
“Ah!” said Giles. “Watch!”
He turned the little handle – it was next to the big one - and just as silently, a window with glass panes in it like an old-fashioned shop slid across.
“Safe and snug!” said Giles beaming from ear to ear.
“Except when the fire goes out” came a strange muffled voice. This time Dot could tell it was a woman, but she still couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from. She looked at Mr Holmes, but he just raised his eyebrows and smiled.
“So, my dear fellow! He said “How do you bear away the smoke from your stove?”
“Come to the window and look!” said Giles. The all peered out.
“See that?” said Giles. He pointed at an old tree growing out of the grassy bank just by his ‘Open-All Patent Window and Atmosphere Improver’, all twisted and leaning at a funny angle. In fact it was so bent over that it was actually touching one of the tall trees crowding close to the edge of the clearing on this side of the cottage.
“Yes?” said Mr Holmes, in a puzzled way.
“Well then!” said Giles. He reached inside and took the old sword off its hanger on the wall and leant out again. “Listen!” he said, tapping the trunk of the old tree with it.
Clang! it went.
“That’s my chimney pipe!” he said, giving it another tap. Clang! “Best Sheffield steel, painted with my special Heat Controlling paint to look like a tree. See where it goes?”
And he pointed with the sword – and Dot could see how the “tree trunk” wound itself round the massive oak it was leaning on. Up and up and up it went, till it was lost to sight in the leaves of the great tree that towered above their heads.
“Of course, it still needed the finishing touch of my Guaranteed Excelsior Smoke-free Coal Bricklets’ to make sure no-one could see the smoke of my fire and find my little home!” said Giles, coming back inside again and hanging up the old sword next to a big dusty glass case full of matchboxes – each with a different picture on.
“That’s where you’d make our fortune, if only you’d try!” came the muffled voice once again.
This time, Dot could tell where it was coming from – a big thing like a funnel, painted red with a shiny brass “bell” at the top, sticking up out of the flagstoned floor right next to where they were all standing.
Angharad knew too! She came running over and, putting her forepaws on the funnel, let out a series of urgent barks.
“Shush, my fearless Welsh friend!” said Giles. He flipped up a cover on the end of the funnel and spoke into it.
“A dish of tea, my dear, perhaps?” he said in a “pretty please” voice.
“When I’ve finished clearing up your mess – yes!” came the reply.
BarkBARKKK! went Angharad.
It was Laetitia!
