 CHAPTER 10 OF THE HOUSE WITH THE TWISTING PASSAGE by Marian St John Webb This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to find out how you can volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org The House with the Twisting Passage by Marian St John Webb CHAPTER 10 UNCLE NODDING Jenny, you may remember, had always pretended that the imaginary uncle nodding gave her toffee to eat when she went to see him. When she thought of uncle nodding she was so used to putting her tongue in her cheek pretending to be eating toffee that she did it without thinking when she went into the room where the real uncle nodding was. A dear old man with mild blue eyes was uncle nodding and he sat by the fire because of his rheumatics. Of course, to do the thing properly the real uncle nodding also brought out a real paper bag and offered her some real toffee but he didn't do anything of the kind. So Jenny was obliged to go on pretending the toffee part. I've got some pictures here to show you Missy dear, he said. He was the only person who ever called Jenny Missy and it made her feel rather nice and grown-up-ish. They're round about my little shop. They was drawn by Albert Crust, my shop boy. A rare one with his pencil as Albert or with anything else for the matter of that. You should see him weighing currents. I never knew anyone make fewer currents go to a pound than Albert. And yet the weights are all right. I don't know how he does it. It's a gift. Shut the door Missy dear because of the draft. My rheumatics is a bit troublesome today. You didn't know I had a little shop, eh? But of course I have. Uncle Nodding's little shop. I keep a little grocer's shop along the village street. My door steps worn and hollowed with the tread of many feet. And in and out and in and out the people come and go. And all day long I'm serving them and running to and fro. I keep the choicest bacon, the best of tea and soap and sugar and tobacco and firewood, cheese and rope. And in and out and in and out the shop bells tinkle-tink. Goes 30, 40 times a day or even more I think. For all the village comes to me and everyone you'll meet. Inside my little grocer's shop along the village street. Albert Crust. This is Albert Crust by himself. He serves behind the counter, takes the orders round and does anything and everything he ought and ought not to do. He's a rare help. That quick and that willing. Almost too willing as you might say, but he never gives over weight. His sixteen come next April but so small I could put him in my pocket in a manner of speaking. To see above the counter he has to climb up and stand on top of an empty sugar box. And what for you sonny? Or now then my little dear? He will say with his hands spread out on the counter. For all the world like my old grandfather used to do. But you should see the way he can throw a loaf of bread right up into the air and over the counter right down slap into a customer's shopping bag. All the boys in our village would give their ears to be able to do it like that. And many of them have got a thrashing for trying to do it with a loaf of bread at home. The strange noises Albert can make with his mouth too. All the children envy him. Besides imitating corks being pulled out of bottles and paper tearing, bees buzzing and dogs yelping. He would make queer croaks and gurgles which used to make me laugh. I couldn't make heads nor tails of what he was driving at as you might say. And many a laugh we've had together. But one day I found out it was supposed to be me he was imitating. I soon put a stop to it. No sauce Albert I says. No sauce now. Right you are governor he says. And no sauce it was. And no sauce will Albert have from any boy or girl that comes into the shop neither. And if they try it on it's woe beside them. For Albert has got a little way that gives them such a fright. A little trick with his eyes makes them bulge out sudden like when he is annoyed. And then there is no knowing what he will do. From whipping off his apron and smothering them with its to rattling down a whole pile of empty biscuit tins on top of them. Still he is a good boy when he isn't roused and are useful and I wouldn't be without him. He never gives over weight. Here is a picture of the little boy who annoys Albert to me very much because he always runs all his words together like this. A pound and half a drip in a jar of jam. Albert sends him away with a bar of soap but I don't think that is what he asked for. This is the little girl who came into the shop the other day and said to Albert half a pound of butter please and two pence change for mother and have you got a paper bag to give my little brother. He says he wants to blow it out and make it go off pop. Albert wants a bag to blow when we come out to shop Sunday in the shop. On Sundays when my shop is shut I sometimes step inside and stand and look about. Here's this little shop of mine I think belonging all to me and I can't help feeling a bit. It seems queer to you I expect to think how anyone can feel for an old sloping counter a pile of biscuit tins, a bacon cutter and a shelf full of marmalade jars. Everything is very quiet and still. There's not a sound to be heard in the shop except perhaps the buzzing of a fly on the window pane. There's the old brown painted till, the drawers of spice and packets of tea and the glass jar full of bull's eyes and the noisy coffee grinder quiet now and fast asleep. I look along the bottom of the counter where the paint is worn and scratched away by kicking and tapping and fidgeting of feet. Through a chink in the shutters the sun is shining and Albert in a new bowler hat puts his head around the parlor door to know if I am going for a walk but I am not going out. I'd rather stay inside my shop and stand and look about. End of chapter 10. Chapter 11 of The House with the Twisting Passage by Marian St John Webb This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to find out how you can volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Zanussia The House with the Twisting Passage by Marian St John Webb Chapter 11 Miss Ruby's Story Jenny was very excited the day Miss Ruby invited her to tea. She washed her face, brushed her hair carefully, put on a clean pinafore and her new shoes and then she got her white cotton gloves out of her dressing table drawer and looked at them. Somehow she always connected her cotton gloves, the only white pair she possessed with Miss Ruby. It seemed the proper thing to do to put them on when visiting Miss Ruby and yet it might look so odd to wear them Jenny thought when she wasn't putting on a hat. She hesitated, put them back in the drawer, then got them out again and hurriedly stuffed them away in her pocket. She would feel more comfortable if she had them with her when sitting in Miss Ruby's room, even if she didn't wear them. They belonged to visiting Miss Ruby, she said to herself, so she went downstairs with the gloves in her pocket. She found Miss Ruby in a yellow silk dress with gold earrings and a long gold chain round her neck. She looked very beautiful. Indeed so fascinating did Jenny find her that she could scarcely take her eyes off her or eat any tea. You are eating nothing, said Miss Ruby sweetly. Her one of these pretty little iced cakes and with her own snow white fingers she put one on Jenny's plate. Miss Ruby chatted gaily during tea and laughed a lot showing her lovely white teeth. But Jenny was so overcome with admiration that she was stricken dumb and could only smile shyly whenever Miss Ruby looked at her. At length when tea was finished Miss Ruby said, come and sit on this comfy cushion at my feet. That's better. Now tell me, what has happened to that little tongue of yours? Miss Ruby's eyes twinkled. I often hear you chattering away in the garden. Jenny blushed and little confused touched the hem of Miss Ruby's frock. How lovely this is, said Jenny softly. Miss Ruby's eyes lit up. Do you like it? She said. I'm so glad I love silk myself. It's so beautiful to touch, so beautiful to look at, so beautiful to wear. It always makes me feel silky inside when I wear a silk frock. This was a new idea to Jenny and she pondered over it for a few moments, wondering whether her blue-surge frock was making her feel all surgy inside. I wonder if Aunt Abby feels like Alpaca, she thought. Then quickly recalled herself, for Miss Ruby was speaking again. I'll tell you a little tale I know about a silk dress, she was saying. A yellow silk dress, something like the one I've got on. Only, as you will see, made in a very different way. Miss Ruby ran her dainty fingers down the folds of her own silk dress and began her story. While Jenny sat on the cushion at her feet, gazing adoringly up at her, one hand touching the hem of Miss Ruby's silk frock and the other in her pocket, clasping the white cotton gloves. The yellow silk dress. In a little country town about 40 miles from London, there lived a dressmaker named Miss Bent. She was what people call a visiting dressmaker. That is, one who goes around to various people's houses, doing a day sewing here and a day sewing there. She got plenty of work to do because she was a clever dressmaker. One morning a carriage drove up to her door. The little dressmaker peeped through her window curtains all in a flutter and she saw the lady of the manor get out and come up to her front door. She had never done work for the lady of the manor yet and was delighted that at last she was going to be asked to do so. The lady of the manor was shown into the small front parlor and Miss Bent nervously offered her a chair. The lady of the manor was very large and wore a huge fur coat and a hat which seemed to make her larger than ever. She seemed to fill up half the space in the little front parlor. Good morning, she said graciously. I want you to come and do a couple of days dressmaking at the manor house. Miss Bent murmured that she would be very pleased indeed. Can you come tomorrow, said her ladyship? I'm extremely sorry, but I'm engaged tomorrow, your ladyship. Miss Bent said apologetically. Her ladyship looked a trifle annoyed. The day after, then, she said. Yes, the day after. Miss Bent would be very pleased, she assured her. Very well, then, but now listen, her ladyship continued. It's my daughter and my niece who want dresses made for them. They want special frogs, made in a hurry. We have got the materials in already. But when you come to make them up, now listen carefully. I want you to make one of them my niece's look as hideous as you can. Your ladyship, gasped Miss Bent faintly. As hideous as you can, repeated the lady. Put good needlework into it if you like, but make it so the neck part will make my niece's neck look thinner than ever. And if you put pleats or frills, put them just a tiny bit wrong so that they will stick out in the wrong places and lie down flat while they ought not to. Do you understand? Show me how clever you can be. Show me that you can do anything you like with material by doing what I ask. My daughter's frock I want made well. With my niece, I want to teach her a lesson she is so vain. Miss Bent felt a little bewildered. Never in the whole of her quiet life had she been asked to do so odd a thing before. If you will do your work thoroughly and satisfactorily, I will pay you ten times as much as you usually get for a day's work, her ladyship said. She paused a moment and then added, My request may sound strange to you, I expected does, but as I said, I wish to teach my niece a wholesome lesson, and besides, I have other private reasons as well. I shall be obliged to you if you will do as I require. But what about my reputation as a dressmaker? said Miss Bent. People will see your niece's dress, and I shall lose orders perhaps. Leave that to me, said her ladyship. Your reputation will not be harmed in any way. No one that matters will see my niece in the dress, I give you my word. And in future I will make a point of always recommending you to my friends, if you do what I ask satisfactorily. Miss Bent hesitated but a moment longer. Then she promised to do what was required of her. How could she refuse the lady of the manor? Nevertheless, as the lady of the manor drove away, Miss Bent felt a sinking at the heart, and for the remainder of the day was beset by arrestlessness that was strange to her. Have you ever noticed how quickly the day after tomorrow comes? Sometimes it seems to come even quicker than tomorrow itself. At any rate, that's how it was with Miss Bent's day after tomorrow. The time came for her to go up to the manor house, before she realised that tomorrow had come and gone. People who loved their work as Miss Bent did always find the days too short. I wish there were forty-eight hours in a day, than night instead of twenty-four. Miss Bent had been heard to say. So on the day after tomorrow, she put on her neat blue surge coat and skirt and small black hat, buttoned up her kid gloves, and started off for the manor house. She was rather troubled in her mind. Being so fond of her work, she always liked to do it in a thoroughly satisfactory manner. She liked to make a success of whatever she put her hand to. But today she realised that her work could not possibly be an entire success. If she made the dress properly, as she would like to do, it would not be a success in the eyes of the lady of the manor. If she spoiled it and satisfied her ladyship, what would the niece say? Miss Bent sighed. It was very tiresome. She was shown into a light hairy room at the manor house, and there she found everything in readiness for her. The material and cottons, the tape measure, the sewing machine and a pair of large bright scissors. On the table, beside the sewing machine, were lying two pictures, cut out from some magazine, showing the styles in which the dresses were to be made. As soon as Miss Bent had taken off her outdoor clothes, the daughter of the house, Miss Philippa, and the niece, Miss Helen, came in to be measured. They were both well-managed young school girls, but whereas Philippa's face was ordinary, pleasing and fresh, but very ordinary, Helen was decidedly pretty and attractive. Miss Bent, fluttering round with the tape measure and her mouth full of pins, supposed that Helen's looks were the cause of her vanity and the reason for her aunt's strange request. And yet, so far as Miss Bent could see, Helen did not appear to be vain. She had a simple, kindly manor, and Miss Bent liked her. Philippa seemed rather distant and cold in her manner toward the little dressmaker. She struck Miss Bent as being rather proud. With an experienced eye, Miss Bent took stock of the girls as she measured them, noticing their weak points which should be hidden and their good points which should be made the most of. Philippa's neck was short and inclined to be thick, so Miss Bent knew that she must shape her dress so as to make Philippa's neck appear as slim as possible. She had pretty arms. The sleeves of the dress must be short. She noted one point after another, and then she turned her attention to Helen. Helen, although her face was pretty, had a neck that was thin and bony and her elbows were sharp and ugly. The neck of her dress must be cut very wide each side so as to make her neck look even thinner, Miss Bent thought sadly. And her sleeves must be extra short to show off the ugliness of her arms. A bunchy flounce across the back of her neck would give her a round-shouldered appearance. And if the waistline of her dress was put very low, Helen would look long-bodied and awkward. All these things and many more Miss Bent observed while her tape measure was busy. But when the girls had gone, she sat down by the sewing machine, her hands lying idle in her lap and thought for a minute in silence. What a shame it seemed. What a shame to make this young girl look as thin and awkward as possible and waste a length of beautiful material in doing so when such a lovely and becoming dress might have been made. Miss Bent pulled herself together. This would never do. She had her work to do and she must do it. She had promised. But what was the real reason for it all, she wondered, as she spread Helen's material out on the table and picked up the scissors. The material was beautiful in texture and colour, being a deep orange silk. Philippa's material was also silk, but of a lovely blue shade. Now that she had met Helen, Miss Bent felt grave doubts as to Helen's vanity. Of the two, Philippa had seemed to think the most of her appearance. Helen had taken an interest in Philippa's frock as well as her own, but Philippa had only been interested in her own. Miss Bent worked away with a puzzled frown on her face. When the girls came in again after lunch for the first trying on, Miss Bent learned a little more about them. Our grandmother is going to pass a visit tomorrow evening. Helen chatted away. She hasn't seen either of us for years and years, not since we were babies, has she, Phil? She's lived abroad for a long time in Spain. That's what we want these new dresses for. It's a special occasion, her visit, isn't it, Phil? Philippa nodded. She did not approve of her cousins talking like that to a dressmaker and meant to tell her so directly they were outside the sewing room door. I'm lying to see her. I've heard such a lot about her in her funny ways, said Helen, smiling. Do you remember the story, Phil, of how Granny wants? Helen broke in Philippa coldly. You're treading on a piece of my dress stuff and look at that cotton caught all round your shoe button. Do be careful and please don't talk so much. You worry me while I'm trying on my dress and I can't think. Sorry," said Helen, good-humidly, and laughed as she untwisted the cotton. I have got this in a muddle, Miss Bent. I'm dreadfully sorry," she apologized. It's all right, doesn't matter a bit, said Miss Bent hurriedly, wishing it was Philippa's dress she had to spoil. I begin to see light, thought Miss Bent to herself. It is before the grandmother that her ladyship wants Miss Helen to look her worst. The grandmother with her funny ways who hasn't seen these girls since they were babies. I wonder what it all means. And as she continued her work, the dressmaker was sorely tempted to make Helen's dress as she knew she could make it, in a way that would suit Helen and make her look charming. I'll never to have promised her ladyship," said Miss Bent to herself more than once. I don't like it at all. But she kept to her work and sewed steadily for the rest of that day and the best part of the following one. About tea time on the second day, the dresses were finished and Miss Bent rang the bell for Lily, one of the maids, and requested her to ask the two young ladies if they would come and try on their frocks before she went home. The girls were full of excitement as they came hurrying into the room, followed by the Lady of the Manor. The excitement made Helen look prettier than ever, Miss Bent thought. Philip's dress was tried on first. It was beautifully made and suited her excellently. Philip looked almost pretty in it. Oh, isn't it lovely? cried Helen. You do look sweet, Phil. And she danced round her cousin and then stood still, gazing at the frock in admiration. A glow of pleasure came into her ladyship's eyes. Good, very good indeed. She nodded approval. But Miss Bent did not feel the satisfaction she would have done at any other time. She dreaded the next five minutes. Helen slipped eagerly into her yellow silk frock and Miss Bent fastened it up for her with fingers that trembled slightly. When all was ready Helen stepped before a long mirror that hung on the wall and looked at herself. And as she looked the eager light in her face slowly faded. She turned toward Miss Bent with a puzzled, almost hurt expression in her eyes. But Miss Bent avoided her glance and stooped quickly, pretending to take a pin out of the hem of the dress. Her ladyship surveyed Miss Bent's work with great approval. It was even better than she had hoped. Her knees looked scraggly and round-shouldered. Long-bodied and out of proportion with her thin legs and bony elbows greatly emphasized through the dressmaker's skill. At the sight of the failure she appeared in the dress made of beautiful yellow silk. Helen's prettiness seemed clouded for a time. It really was decidedly better than her ladyship had hoped. Excellent, she said aloud. I have made a splendid job of it, Miss Bent. It is delightful. I am more than satisfied. But I am, thought of poor Helen. It doesn't look right to me. What's the matter with it? I look so dreadfully thin. You are thin, my dear child, said her ladyship. There's no getting away from the fact. Yes, but not as thin as all that. What is the matter with it, Miss Bent? asked Helen. Miss Bent stood up, stroked down one of the pleats, and suddenly found she was looking straight into Helen's wistful eyes, her own filled with tears at the disappointment in the child's face. Miss Bent fumbled for her handkerchief, tried to speak, but it was too late. She felt the tears creeping down her cheeks. Oh, Miss Bent, don't, please don't. She heard Helen's voice full of remorse. What a beast I am when you've worked so hard on this frock to get it done in time, and you must be so tired. It's all right. It really is all right. Please don't, Miss Bent. You mustn't be disappointed at what I said. It was only... only just at first. Perhaps it would look different when my hair's done properly. Helen could never bear to see anyone in tears. Her own disappointment was forgotten for the moment in her pity for Miss Bent. She did not know that the dressmaker's tears were tears of anger and remorse rather than of disappointment. There, there, Miss Bent, said her ladyship. You are overtired. Run away up to your room's girls, and fill up a tell, James, to order the carriage round. You must ride home, Miss Bent. Yes, I insist. The carriage can put you down at your door and then go on to the station to meet a guest we are expecting this evening. Now let me settle my bill with you. I'm extremely pleased with your work. I commend you to all my friends. Run away, Helen, and don't worry, Miss Bent. Yes, yes, child. She knows you're sorry. It's all right. So Miss Bent drove home in her ladyship's carriage with ten times as much money as she usually got for her work. But her heart was heavy and her eyes were full of tears. This was the end of the incident. As far as she was concerned, Miss Bent thought she would never know the sequel to her ladyship's strange request. But the following day Miss Bent proved herself wrong by discovering, quite by accident, the end of the story. Miss Bent jumped into the train to go to the next village where she was to do a day's dressmaking and found that the only other person in her carriage was Lily, her ladyship's maid. I'm leaving these parts, said Lily, left the manor for good and all. Left the manor, said Miss Bent, but I thought she would be with her ladyship for years. So I add, Lily nodded, but I'm leaving. Got the sack, she announced, smiling. Sack, echoed Miss Bent. Oh, I'm sorry. I'm glad, said Lily, taken all in all, and I'd do what I did last night all over again if I got the chance I would. We did have a scene, she said with relish. Miss Bent looked at her, surprised and questioningly. And Lily, only too glad to have a listener, told her story. It seemed that the grandmother had come to dinner the night before, as arranged, but events had turned out very differently from her ladyship's expectations. The grandmother, according to Lily, was an old and ugly person who loved everything that was beautiful to look at around her. She had a queer temper and odd ideas. The special reason for her visit to England was to see all her grandchildren. The one she took the greatest fancy to was to be invited to go back with her to Spain, and then to accompany her on a tour around the world. It would be a golden opportunity in more ways than one for the lucky grandchild chosen. For the grandmother had a large private fortune of her own, and who knows, the grandchild she took with her might inherit this fortune. Miss Bent began to understand her ladyship's motive for wanting Helen to create an unfavourable impression, and why she desired Philippa to outshine Helen on this particular occasion. Ten minutes before the grandmother came, continued Lily, I met Miss Helen and Miss Philippa coming downstairs, and there was Miss Helen in that yellow frock. No offence to you, Miss Bent, but it did make her look a sight. I don't know how you did it. Can you see what was wrong? But never mind that now. I wished she could have put on that old white dress of hers that I knew was upstairs in the wardrobe. Sweet in that, she always looked, but her ladyship had insisted on both the young ladies wearing their new dresses in honour of their grandmother's visit. And of course Miss Helen didn't know why her grandmother was coming, though some of his servants knew. And Miss Philippa too, I'm thinking, well I stopped at the top of the stairs, resting a tray I was carrying on the banisters for a moment, while I looked down at Miss Helen who had stopped halfway down to speak to her ladyship who was about to come up. All of a sudden the tray slipped from my hands and over the banisters it went, crashing down below, while the things that had been on it flew about in all directions. I screamed, a ladyship screamed, Miss Philippa screamed, and then I saw what had happened. The ink out of a large pot that had been on the tray had gone all over Miss Helen's yellow silk frock, a great streak of it, from neck to end, and all down one side of her face it was too. And this was not all. A jug of water I had been carrying had drenched one arm inside and there were all bits of broken glass on the stairs. Of course there was a dreadful scene, though Miss Helen said it didn't matter a bit and afterward I'm sure I heard her laughing in the bathroom when she was washing all the ink off herself. She had the taps rushing noisily, but I heard her laughing, I'm sure I did. It was a mercy the glass didn't cut her but she wasn't hurt a bit, only startled. Of course the yellow dress was ruined and her ladyship was furious and gave me notice on the spot. But Miss Helen came down to dinner in her old white frock looking as sweet as a rose. She pushed a note under my door late that night telling me how sorry she was I was leaving and telling me she didn't mind a bit about the dress. She was glad she said. She hadn't liked the dress. Miss Bent had been listening to all this in wondering silence. And the grandmother she asked quickly it was all the talk among the servants this morning that the old lady had quite made up her mind which of her grandchildren to take back with her. Of course it was Miss Helen queried Miss Bent eagerly as the train stopped at her station. Of course it was Miss Helen said Lily smiling who could help it with her kind heart and sweet face looking her best and all in her old white frock. Miss Bent who was on the platform by now turned and looked through the carriage door. Lily she began I'm so thankful you and did my unfortunate work that I'm sorry you've lost your post through it. Surely her ladyship might have realised that it was purely an accident and after having you all these years accident repeated Lily and she laughed Goodbye Miss Bent and don't you worry about me I'll soon get another job. Lily leaned out and waved her hand as the train began to move Miss Bent stood perfectly still until the train was out of sight she was still thinking of Lily's odd laugh Accident said Miss Bent to herself No she did it purposely she dropped that train purposely so that Miss Helen wouldn't be able to wear the ugly yellow silk dress Of course she did Why didn't I think of that before End of Chapter 11 Chapter 12 of The House with the Twisting Passage by Marion St John Webb This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to find out how you can volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Zinusha The House with the Twisting Passage by Marion St John Webb Chapter 12 Taramena's Tale When Jenny went to tea with Taramena she found that although she was indeed foreign she could speak English Rather curious English it is true and often difficult to understand but after a while Jenny got used to it If it were written down as Taramena said it it would be very difficult to read So the story she told to Jenny and that Jenny repeated to me and that I am writing down for you I have put into English so many of us can understand Jenny asked me to tell you this because she wants you to know that Taramena really is awfully foreign and she was afraid you might not realise this when reading her story unless you were told The story came through Jenny's saying as she was spreading some apricot jam on her bread and butter What beautiful beads they are around your neck Ah! said Taramena but yes they are beautiful are they not? I would not part with them I dare not part with them for anything in the world they hold for me a warning which they will give me when the time comes Jenny crinkled her eyebrows up Do you not understand what I mean? No of course not but pleased to take some more bread and butter and I will explain myself said Taramena the necklace This story has no beginning and no end only what you would call a middle This necklace of beads that I am wearing and which you call beautiful You have never seen a necklace exactly like it have you? No It is very rare It is very special and I will tell you how I came to wear it and why I would not give it away not for all the gold you could offer me For hundreds of years this necklace has been in the possession of our family It is constantly being passed on from one to the other of us in turn to each wear it does a kindness by warning when danger is ahead How can beads give a warning? I expect you are saying to yourself I will tell you Whenever the person who is wearing these beads is about to run into danger the necklace breaks and all the beads are scattered No matter how strongly the beads are threaded no matter how firm the clasp the necklace breaks apart That is a sign Whatever the owner of the necklace is about to do she or he must stop stop advance It is a warning that there is danger in whatever she was about to do Afterwards she gathers up the scattered beads puts them back into their casket and takes them to the head of our family We thread the beads again and passes the necklace on to the member whose turn it is to have them next and there is one very curious thing when they break and scatter always one bead disappears is lost search how you will one bead is always missing it has ever been so this necklace was once a long chain 300 years ago perhaps but it has broken many times and grown smaller and smaller until it is this size you see it now and when it breaks on me one of these beads will roll away and I shall not be able to find it and so I shall pass on the necklace with one bead less so it will go on until the last wearer has merely a necklace of thread with one bead in the centre when that breaks it is the end and no more will the necklace give its warnings to our family or this sounds very strange to you no doubt as you can hardly believe it but I can only tell you that it is so as the beads came from a mummy's tomb so I have been told but how it was discovered that they had so strange a power to protect the wearer I do not know I tell you that there is no beginning to this story but I can tell you the middle which is about the person alas who had the necklace before me but she was foolish my cousin Tessa she was too what do you call it new up to date too modern these beads she said old superstition when they break the thread has worn out and she was not our grandmother's solemn warning when it became her turn to have the beads I will wear the beads because I think they are beautiful said Tessa but when they break I will take no notice I will prove to you and to all the rest of the family that you have been wrong to keep up this old superstition Tessa had found out that all down the years no one had ever defied the warning when it came so how can you know that anything dangerous would have happened perhaps if they had all gone on doing what they were doing when the beads broke no harm would have come to them and then it would have been absurd and we should not have had this old story handed down Tessa argued and would not listen to advice she insisted that when the warning came to her she would disregard it and see what happened for months she wore the necklace went about her work with it always round her neck and then one day she set out to go to DC for a holiday her brother went with her to the station to see her off as they had scarcely arrived on the platform the reporter who was putting Tessa's luggage in the train when suddenly the necklace snapped and the beads rolled over the platform Tessa stood perfectly still for a moment she went very right then as she heard the gasp of dismay her brother gave she tossed her head and smiled we must gather them up quickly she said of I shall use the train and she began picking up the beads and putting them into her handbag Tessa said her brother in a voice of reproach the zombie silly I will tell the porter to get your luggage out again quick if you will do nothing of the kind said Tessa but her brother very excited by this time pleaded hard as there would surely be an accident to the train and she would be killed, he said and implored her not to fly in the face of the warning he begged and pleaded and threatened and scolded but it was all in vain very white but very determined Tessa got onto the train I will send you a telegram directly I meet aunt as she said smiling and trying to speak carelessly and as the train began to move she waved her hand from the carriage window as the train steamed out of the station and Tessa's brother stood draining anxiously to catch a last glimpse of her for he felt certain he would not see her again I ought never to have let her go he said to himself as he hurried home to await her telegram but what could I do as she is not like a small child that I could pick up and carry into a cab as she must go her own way and secretly he felt rather proud at the courage she had shown a two hours later her telegram came she had got to her destination quite safely as there had been no accident to Zitrain her Tessa's brother was overjoyed after all the Tessa had been right she with her sensible ways still he would not be quite easy till she was home again as a warning might have meant that some ill luck would befall her on her visit not on her journey there but he would banish these mournful thoughts he would not think any more about the warning he determined a week went by and then one evening another telegram arrived it was from the aunt she was in terrible distress the Tessa had gone out in a little boat for a sail and she had not come back the boat had floated in upside down the Tessa was drowned they found her later poor foolish one she had defied the warning and she was dead so the necklace was passed on to me and I am waiting when the warning comes to me I shall take heed I shall remember and now as you understand by my story has only a middle nor beginning and no end end of chapter 12 chapter 13 of the house with the twisting passage by Marian St John Webb this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to find out how you can volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Zanusha the house with the twisting passage by Marian St John Webb chapter 13 Peter Bolin's tale come in come in cried Peter Bolin rising and beaming his hand toward Jenny do come in I was just thinking about you were you said Jenny shyly yes I was thinking I wonder when my little lady will come and see me again I've got something I want her to do badly no I don't mean that I don't want it done badly but I badly want it done Peter Bolin laughed look and he held up for Jenny's inspection a brown leather glove no buttons he pointed out sorry fully they've both fallen off do you think you could possibly be so kind of course Jenny would sew the buttons on for him she was only too glad to do it she admired Peter Bolin very much he was a handsome tall man with brown eyes and a charming smile and his hair was glossy and had a slight wave in it Jenny thought it lovely hair he was going a little bit bold on the top of his head only Jenny couldn't see this I should love to sew the buttons on for you Jenny said with her quiet shy smile shall I go and fetch Aunt Abby's sewing box if you would be so kind said Peter Bolin but what can I do for you in return you must let me do something please any special kind of sweets you like Jenny shook her head opened her mouth to speak and then changed her mind and shut it again what is it asked Peter Bolin smiling if you would I'd rather I mean I'd like it so if you could tell me a tale with you in it Jenny said a little breathlessly bless my heart a tale will sew it shall be then with pleasure you run and fetch the sewing box while I think a minute and as soon as you come back we'll start Jenny hurried away to fetch the sewing box and when she returned Peter Bolin was sitting in his big arm chair leaning back, smoking he sat up and smiled as soon as she appeared how's this for a start he said in the house across the way at ten o'clock each night in the toppest window there will come a little light I know exactly what it is is Peter Bolin's candle carried in a little jug that hasn't got a handle oh said Jenny but what does it mean that's what I'm going to tell you said Peter Bolin have you got the needle and thread good and the buttons splendid Peter Bolin's candle I am a doctor in my young days it was my ambition to work among the poor especially poor children the rich I used to say to myself scornfully half the realnesses come through over feeding and the other half through not having enough work to do I was very young in those days and very hot headed and when I went into the slums of London and saw the poor half starved stunted little bits of humanity all about my heart would ache with the pity of it all the injustice of it all and I would pace up and down my room at night trying to forget what I had seen during the day and yet not wanting to forget it my parents were rather disappointed in me they wanted me to become a fashionable doctor one who had wealthy patients for that was the only way to get on and make money they said but when they realised that my ambition was set in another direction they said no more and let me go my way but I fear I was a sad disappointment to them well about that time I went and lived down in a poor quarter of London among the people I wanted to serve I rented two very clean little rooms in a house near one of the hospitals I attended all day I was busy out and about and the long evenings I spent with my books studying I had to be very careful with money in those days not having over much and finding that my gas bill when presented to me by my landlady was always of alarming proportions I took to using candles of an evening when I was reading I used to sit at a big table with my books about me my feet on a hassock and a pipe in my mouth and at my elbow a candle burning which as I told you always stood in a little jug that hadn't got a handle I liked it better than a proper candle stick the jug had a wide top to it which served me for an ashtray one night I was sitting reading as usual a church clock nearby had just finished striking 11 when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs toward the door of my room I listened I knew there was no one on the top floor at the present time so that anyone climbing up as high as this must be coming to see me I had few visitors in those days and certainly did not expect any one that night outside my door the footsteps stopped and then came a timid knock I got up and opened it at once a woman stood on the threshold she was pale and large-eyed and seemed to be in some distress as I held the door open the light from the flickering came out of the door as I held the door open the light from the flickering candle fell full upon her I could see that she was poorly dressed but neat and trim her thick black hair was sprinkled with grey and her hands which were fingering restlessly the corner of her white apron were roughened with work there was a lingering charm about her thin, worn face she had been a very pretty girl when she was young and doubtedly what is it I asked gently for I could see she was trembling and nervous is there anything I can do for you oh sir she gasped and the suspicion of a sob shook her voice you you are a doctor will you will you do a great kindness come and see a child who is desperately in need of you is so ill sir oh sir will you come quickly of course I will I said unhooking my coat from the back of the door is it far from here the woman twisted the corner of her apron round and round in her hands then she stepped inside the room and closed the door softly behind her it's it's a funny thing I'm going to ask you she said in a strained queer voice I looked at her in surprise and stood still with one arm in my coat all the folk round here talk about you she said I know what you're like you're good to the poor like us I've heard I'm going to ask you to do a strange thing you've promised to come to my boy it was very ill perhaps dying I nodded well we must have a doctor for him but I don't let the doctor know what else he is being taken into there is a special reason she looked straight into my eyes her lips were trembling we stood looking at each other in silence for a few seconds the reason she began then stopped again oh sir I can trust you can't I she said imploringly I can trust you you can rely on me I said tell me she began to speak very hurriedly it's my little son I want you to come and see but but he is denied him from the police he has run away from a reformatory school the magistrate sent him there for two years but he wanted me and he ran away and now he is ill so ill I was frightened to go for a doctor I don't want anyone to know the boys with me and then I thought of you she was crying by this time poor soul I thought these mothers how they suffer through their children I wondered what the boy had done to be sent to a reformatory school and how it was his mother had let him get into trouble but there was no time for questions of that sort at the moment I will come with you at once I said you can trust me absolutely I give you my word I had to explain about it now she sobbed because when we get near my house I am going to ask you to close your eyes and give me a word of honour not to open them until I have led you inside I have a special reason for asking you to do this it's not that I don't trust you I do absolutely but I am certain it would be easier and better better for you and better for us I am sure it would be easier better for you and better for us if you do not recognise the house we live in if the police come round making inquiries I hesitated for a moment telling her there was no need to take this precaution but she seemed so upset at my hesitation that to humour her I gave way and said I would do as she pleased she told me then a little about the boy's illness and I gathered together a few things in my bag then we descended the stairs to the narrow drafty hall and there I blew out my candle which I had brought with me and left it on the hall stand for my return it was a raw foggy night and I noticed the woman shiver and pull her shawl close around her as we stepped into the street she turned immediately to the right outside the gate and led the way to the end of the road and then turned off into a network of side streets we zigzagged in and out of these for a while and then as we came outside a small corner shop a baker's I think it was she slackened her pace for an instant and said now shut your eyes I did so I felt her catch hold of my arm and then we walked on it seemed to me that we walked a fairly long way after my eyes were closed down streets and around several corners presently however we came to a southern standstill and I heard a door open I felt myself being gently pushed forward into the house and then after a pause came please open your eyes now please open your eyes now I opened them and found myself in a dim narrow hall very like the hole in the house where I lived only the wallpaper was different glazed shiny brown stuff very shabby and partly peeled off I did not notice anything more about my surroundings for the moment as I was anxious to see my patient I found him in an upstairs front room tossing on a little bed in the corner the room seemed clean and tidy but bare and comfortless a low fire smoldered in the grate the boy a dark-haired little fellow of about twelve was certainly very ill and in a high fever I soon got to work and did what I could for him I will stay a while but in the meantime is there any body you could send to get a few things that he will need I will go myself she said if you're staying here a bit but that's all right I sensed her hesitation at once please let me pay for the things now we can settle up afterward he must have these things I scribbled down a list of things on the back of an envelope knock up a chemist he'll let you have these it's urgent tell him while she was gone I sat quietly watching the face of the boy he was in a drowsy half asleep state now what had he done I wondered to be sent to a reformatory he had not got the face of a bad boy where was his father I looked around the room and at the carefully drawn window blinds if I were to look out of that window possibly I should recognise at once where I was in which house I was for I knew the neighbourhood fairly well but not for the world would I have looked through the window the boy's mother trusted me it was wonderful how she did trust me seeing how important to her her secret was what could I do for this little chap I wondered how had he got into the hands of the police even if his mother managed to hide him for a time he would surely be found by the authorities sooner or later and be taken back to the reformatory to finish his term there but the first thing was to get him better then I would see what could be done presently someone knocked with the knuckles on the room door and before I could rise the door was opened softly and an old woman peeped in how is he oh I thought Mrs Gravers here are you the doctor she said I nodded poor dear he does look bad she said looking down at the sleeping boy he is bad I said quietly but I hope we shall be able to see a change for the better before long how long has he been here I inquired do you mean how long has he been ill or how long has he been living here because he hasn't been either long a day or two he's been ill and him and his mother only came last week and took this room said the old woman smoothing the blue apron she was wearing I see you are the owner of this house I suppose she said she was and would have gone on to give me more information had not Mrs Grey returned at that moment laden with things she glanced quickly from me to her landlady she seemed flurried and rather upset the old woman lingered while I attended to the boy but presently she went away telling Mrs Grey in a kindly voice too while I was out if she wanted her help in any way as soon as she was gone Mrs Grey turned to me doctor she said the policeman followed me I'm sure he did he watched me knocking at the chemist's side door and went away home do you think he recognised me is he after the boy she was all a tremble again come come calm yourself you mustn't give way like this I said and did my best to reassure her they won't take the boy from you while he's ill I forbid him to be moved doctors orders besides I don't suppose that he recognised you at all on a foggy night like this too I stayed another hour and then as the boy was sleeping comfortably now I said I must go but would come again the next evening unless she sent for me before that I don't know how to thank you Mrs Grey said don't I replied wait until he is better you do think he'll get better with care I do I assured her I left the house in the same manner as I arrived with closed eyes Mrs Grey led me along several streets and round corners and when she told me to open my eyes I was at the same place outside the little baker's shop where I'd first closed them Mrs Grey did not send for me the next day but soon after ten o'clock at night she came and escorted me to the house in the same manner as on the previous evening on the way I suggested again that it was scarcely necessary for me to shut my eyes even if I did know the house and the police came I would not give her away but she seemed so upset at the idea and begged me so earnestly to close my eyes and I gave way and after this I did not refer to the matter anymore but always closed my eyes and allowed her to lead me to the house I found the boy a little better on my second visit and better still on the third evening for a week I continued to visit him each evening but the following week it was only necessary for me to look in twice after that he was up and about again on the last visit I paid him when he was practically well again I got him to talk about himself and how it was that he had been sent to the reformatory school it was a sad enough story the party could not supply being filled in by his mother the father was dead it seemed and the mother out at work all day and the boy had run wild he had met bad companions who influenced him so that he got beyond his mother's control one day he and another boy committed a number of small thefts as they were not found out they ventured on something bigger and broke into a house where an old lady lived all alone they were caught brought up at the police court and the result was the reformatory school he was not a bad boy really said his mother not till those other boys got older of him why did you run away from the school I asked the boy whose name I had learnt was Joe I hated it he said and when I felt ill I wanted mother and he told me the whole story of how he had managed to escape no easy task to escape from the school I gathered how it was they had not traced him so far was the thing that made Joe Marble greatly well how much longer had you to be in the school I inquired another three months his mother said he's been there a year and nine months and what do you propose to do now that you are well again you can't go on hiding in this room for the rest of your life you know I said the mother shook her head hopelessly we don't know what to do she said if only we could get away I have a sister who keeps a farm right down in Wales I believe she'd take us for a time while I did work on the farm only it's dreadful dreadful to have to go about guiltily always hiding afraid of knocks at the door I said shall I tell you what I should do if I were you I turned to the boy he nodded watching me anxiously the look in his eyes made my heart ache so I turned my gaze away fixing it on a scrap of torn wallpaper over the fireplace if I were you I should go back to the school I said give myself up and finish out the three months I know it sounds hard old chap but isn't it better to stick it for the three months and then be free and go down with your mother to Wales and start afresh instead of going about for weeks in fear and trembling for it would only be a matter of weeks they'd be sure to get you sooner or later and then it would be all the harder for you oh don't his mother began to cry quietly don't send him back it's not that I will send him back I said Joe will go back of his owner called and bear it like a man for his mother's sake so that she won't have to go about afraid of knocks at the door if he goes back it will be better for you both in the long run can't you see that it will I alleged I hated giving them this advice but I felt sure it was the best course yet I dared not look at the boys face while I was speaking or I could not have gone on how I wished I could have taken him away and given him a fresh start he was a good little chap at heart I felt sure but he was weak-willed and easily influenced given a proper chance he would turn out a decent man you think it over Joe I said talk the matter over between you and if you decide to go back Joe I'll go with you and explain that it was owing to illness that you ran away home and that I've been attending you and that now you are well again you have come back to finish your term perhaps this will save you from any punishment I'll do my best anyway if you decide to do this come and fetch me it is entirely in your hands for I still do not know where this house you live in is situated and now Mrs. Great if you will leave me out as usual I finished I shall be obliged good night Joe and good luck to you and Joe for your mother's sake be a man I took one glance at Joe's white scared face and hurriedly took my departure when I got back to my lodging I found a policeman waiting for me on the landing outside my door if I might just have a word with you sir he said certainly I replied come in and I placed my lighted candle on the table well he said I know you're interested in the children hereabouts and know a rare lot of them and I've been wondering if you could help me find a boy I'm looking for it would be doing the other children a good turn to help me find him he's a bad influence run away from a reformatory school he has a thorough bad lot regular nuisance to his poor mother and a real danger to the other children we believe he's somewhere in this neighbourhood hiding and we was wondering if you had happened to come across him I looked at the policeman how much did he know I wondered had he been following me at any time what's the boy's name I asked abruptly Joe Brunswick his name was answered the policeman and then brought a notebook out of his pocket and consulted it as if to make sure of this fact I had wondered if Grey was Joe Brunswick I had wondered if Grey was Joe's real surname Brunswick I repeated then shook my head no I haven't come across anyone with that name you might know the boy by sight then said the policeman and the policeman began describing Joe in such a way that I should never have recognised him crafty little face the policeman said bad lot I don't recall any boy answering to that description I said oh said the policeman we was in hopes that you would help us if you should come across him you'd be doing a service sir if you'd kindly inform I'll keep a lookout I said I know most of the children around here and I've got a good memory for faces I never forget a face once I've seen it this was a stupid thing to have said I realised it was a mistake directly the words had left my mouth ah I'm glad of that said the policeman feeling in his pocket I've just remembered I brought a photo with me of this boy I was describing to you here it is have you ever seen that face before and the policeman put in my hand a photograph of Joe I looked at the weak, nervous face in the photograph and considered but this is not a bit like the boy you described Constable I said to gain time while I made up my mind what to say next this is not a crafty face it's only weak it's what I call crafty said the policeman well anyway the face seems familiar to me I admitted I said I never forget a face and I don't I have seen this boy somewhere but where at any rate if I see this boy again I shall know it's Joe what did you say the name was Brunswick that's right sir said the policeman I suppose you don't happen to have seen the face recently could you remember he added I looked at him sharply something in the tone of his voice alarmed me you don't happen to have been in a house quite recently where you saw a boy something like this asked the policeman I have told you Constable I began but the policeman raised his hand and beckoned me toward the window would you mind blowing out your candle for a minute sir he said I looked at him wonderingly then did what he asked keeping the candle in my hand ready to light again the policeman drew back the curtains before my window and pointed through the paint to the window of a house directly opposite on the other side of the road the window he pointed to was heavily curtained but a chink of light at the top the room was inhabited you don't happen to have been in that house that room tonight come sir I'm afraid it's no use you're denying it and though I appreciate your kindness part in trying to shield the boy it's no use sir what do you mean I demanded to the best of my knowledge I've certainly not been in that house tonight or any other night there was silence for a few moments while the policeman drew my curtains too again and I relit the candle well I'm sorry sir said the policeman solemnly it must have been my mistake I distinctly saw you or rather thought I saw you coming out of that house with a lady and you walked away all around the streets and round and round and into your gate here I'm very surprised to hear that I've been in that house opposite I said I did not know that I had which was perfectly true but I could see that the policeman did not believe me I'm sorry sir he said again I thought you'd have helped me I'm really telling you the truth I protested he looked at me but said no more except to wish me good night comfortable I said and as I heard his heavy boots descending the stairs my heart sank for I knew that in spite of my efforts a warrant would be out tomorrow to enable the police to search the house opposite to mine for the purpose of finding Joe Brunswick I sat down by my table and thought for a while I had never dreamed it would be the house opposite I had thought it many streets away what could I do now to help Joe and his mother if only the boy had gone back to the reformatory before the police had found him but they hadn't found him yet I dare not go across and warn Joe my policeman or another one would probably be watching the house I was glad it was so late at night a few hours must elapse before the warrant could be out at that moment came another knock at my door I got up and opened it wondering if it was the policeman come back Joe exclaimed as the boy stepped into the room you at this time of night and this night of all nights I had to come at once sir said Joe to tell you I've made it my mind to go back sir if you'll take me I thought I'd better come and tell you now while I while I felt I could and then when I promised you I knew I'd go and the reason Joe I asked wondering if he had any suspicion about the policeman but his next words and the look he gave me banished that thought a tinge of colour crept into the boy's pal cheeks it was what you said sir his voice faltered I understood and held at my hand shake hands Joe I said and then I told him about the policeman but we'll get ahead of him I said and go by the first possible train before they come to search your house fancy you're living right opposite me all the time and I never knew Joe nodded he used to watch for the light in my window every evening he said his mother used to pull the curtains apart a tiny slit at one side so that he could see Peter Bollins candle from his bed when you come back again Joe in three months time I said I'll take you straight down into Wales to join your mother I'll see she goes off there as soon as possible do you know how to ride a bicycle no oh well you'd soon learn I know of one you might like to have it would be useful in the country you shall have it directly you come out now that he was going back I felt I must give him something to look forward to Joe's eyes gleamed we made our plans quickly it was past midnight now and I thought it wiser that Joe should stay with me for the night and we would start out very early in the morning how are we to let Joe's mother know it was against her wishes that he had run across the road in the dark but he had told her he felt he must come I must go across I said and just risk the policemen's seeing me it's a very dark night luckily she'll be down by the front door waiting I expect said Joe which she was all the rest of the house was in darkness and she was waiting quietly just inside the front door I explained things to her rapidly and now that Joe had decided to go back to the reformatory she was as anxious for him to go before the police got him as I was she quickly fetched his hat and coat and one or two things from her room and handed them to me she agreed that it was better for her not to try to see him before he went in case in the early hours of the morning she should be seen by the policemen I will take every care of Joe, I assured her and hastened back to my rooms in the early hours of the morning just before dawn Joe and I set out and travelled safely back to the reformatory school I explained matters to the head and fortunately was able to get Joe off from punishment I promised to be responsible for him when he came out and my last memory of him as he was led away was of a pale scared little boy trying to smile as he bid me goodbye I went home and walked up and down my room all the evening the following day I made arrangements for Mrs Grey or Mrs Brunswick as she really was to go down into Wales I'll bring Joe down myself as soon as he's out I promised her you go and be getting a place ready for him I don't know however I'm to pay you she said I don't want to be paid I've taken a liking to Joe I told her frankly three months passed quickly with me busy at my work but Joe said afterward they seemed three years to him when the day of Joe's release arrived I almost as excited as he was went and fetched him away we came back to London and had a fine dinner at a restaurant and then I took him down to his mother in Wales remember Joe I said to him in the train I've promised to be responsible for you now so don't get me into trouble you won't fail me will you Joe promised very quietly but very earnestly and he kept his word all this happened some years ago when I was a young man never lost sight of Joe he's grown into a proper man a fine fellow and he's got a film of his own now in Wales and his old mother does the housekeeping for him do you know what started me thinking of him again today? this old ashtray I keep up on the mantelpiece when I started to smoke I reached for it and you see what it is I keep it why do I keep it? out of affection I suppose it used to be my old candlestick this little jug that hasn't got a handle end of chapter 13 chapter 14 of The House with a Twisting Passage by Marion St John Webb this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to find out how you can volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Zanusha The House with the Twisting Passage by Marion St John Webb Chapter 14 The Rhymes of Mr Dennis Mr Dennis was a big broad-shouldered man with a kind, tired face shaggy hair and loose-fitting clothes he had been very earl on Tabby said and had come for a rest and to get his strength back I haven't told you yet about my little girl Pat, have I? he said one day when Jenny came in with a ball of string that she had brought for him his fingers were busily at work on a kite that he was making this is for her he explained she loves kites because she can rush about with them and not look where she's going she's just about as old as you Jenny perhaps a wee bit taller but the tomboy she is you'd never believe Jenny lent against the table and watched his fingers gravely tell me about your little girl said Jenny you couldn't find anyone so good and so naughty all at one and the same time nor yet so lovable not if you searched the world over said Mr Dennis the corners of his mouth twitching she has a way with her tell me said Jenny please I know what I'll tell you some little rhymes that I made up about her things she's done and things she's said to me if you like this is how they go Pat torn brown jacket crushed straw rat all in stocking that's our Pat where's she been to what a sight only playing tomboy quite very naughty scold or do Pat looks up and smiles at you something magic in Pat's smile scolding doesn't seem worthwhile such happy little face makes the world a jolly place never mind her clothes and that only playing she's our Pat Pat washes her face it's Pat's go and wash her face or go and wash her hands no day long I'm being told but no one understands when they're grown up they must forget how hard it is to be so really awful clean all day when you're a girl like me I wonder why I wasn't made to keep on growing clean instead of growing dirtier it seems a waste I mean to think of all the water that has washed my face and hands and all the miles and miles of soap but no one understands but even if things did get changed about the other way good gracious me how clean you are get dirty quick they'd say calling for Jill when all our children call for Jill to come to school each day her granny through the window always calls to us to say now don't tread on my pansy beds you there are with yellow socks or careful there you Pat see and then on the pain she knocks and all of us are careful as we don't know what she'll do because someone told us she's a witch and just in case it's true we rattle on the letter box and don't do what we ought until we get outside the gate end of chapter 14