Dot and Mr Holmes have found the secret attic room, with the projector and disc machine that’ve been making the spooky noises…and a good deal more! As well as a secret door INTO the room, there’s a secret door OUT of it, opening on to some stone stairs – which lead straight down to a blank wall…!
Mr Holmes played his funny old torch over the wall in front of them.
“Hmmm!” he said.
The wall was completely solid – huge blocks of stone all joined together. The detective stepped forward and rapped on it with his knuckles. Nothing. The wall was as solid as the Tower of London.
Wish that place hadn’t popped into my head, thought Dot. That was the scariest castle ever – even though we soon got out and went to Hampton Court and King Henry VIII’s palace. *
“Hmmm!”” said Mr Holmes again. “Very interesting!” He took out his magnifying glass again and began examining the blocks of stone in front of him in the feeble light of his “lantern”.
And I also wish, Dot went on in her own mind, that Mr Holmes wouldn’t keep saying how “interesting” everything is. We’re TRAPPED, for heaven’s sake!!
“Shall I go and see if I and get the door into the attic room to open again, Mr Holmes?” said Dot. Anything was better than just standing about. And it was cold down here too – the damp, musty air was beginning to chill her. Not in a good way, either!
“Fat chance!” came Mr Mouse’s muffled voice from under the shoulder of her dress.
“By all means, by all means!” said Mr Holmes, still poring over the rough, damp stones in front of him. “But mind your step, my dear!” He felt in his pocket. “I’ve got a match here, and… ” he felt again “… there! Thought I had it! It’s only a stump of candle, but it’ll do!”
The match spluttered and flared and the candle was lit.
“Right!” she said. “Off I go!”
“Excellent, excellent” muttered the detective, staring once more through his magnifying glass at the stones in front of him.
Very carefully, with the candle in her left hand, and her right hand sliding along the wall to her right, Dot went back up the circular stairs. She couldn’t see much, with the candle casting deep, flickering shadows in front of her, but in fact it was quite safe – it wasn’t too far back up the steps, and anyway it was too narrow for her to fall.
She got to the top and pushed on the door.
Nothing. It wouldn’t budge, not by so much as a millimetre. They really were stuck.
“It won’t open, Mr Holmes!” she called back down the stairs.
Her words echoed round the circular stairway. “Open… open … open … Holmes… Holmes… Holmes…”
But there was no reply. Nothing!
“Mr Holmes?” called Dot again. Again, nothing.
Now she was feeling scared.
So was Mr Mouse.
“Oh NO!” he squeaked. “We’re doomed! Toast! Pastrami! We’re never gonna get outta here!”
No reply, but then suddenly a draught came up the stairs – and blew the candle right out!
“EEEEK!” went the fearless Canadian cheesehunter.
Actually, Dot was proud of what she did next. She didn’t panic – didn’t allow herself to. She just stopped to think.
A draught. That meant open air. That meant - a way out!
“Come on!” she said. “Let’s go back!”
And she did, carefully feeling her way back down the stairs, this time in complete darkness. And when she got to the bottom she found she was right. There was an opening!
A whole section of the blank stone wall Mr Holmes had been examining had simply swung open. It was yet another secret door – even more cleverly hidden than the last one. Through the doorway, in the moonlight above Dendringham Hall, she could see a strange kind of walled garden, with jumbled-up bits of stone and brick scattered about, and even an old, broken-down pony cart.
But of Mr Holmes – not a sign!
