They sat in the warm April sunshine, eating hungrily. There was orangeade to drink, cool and delicious. Timmy wandered over to a rock pool he knew, where rain-water collected, and he could be heard lapping there.

“Hasn’t he got a good memory?” said George proudly. “It’s ages since he was here — and yet he remembered that pool at once, when he felt thirsty.”

“It’s funny Timmy hasn’t found Uncle Quentin, isn’t it?” said Dick, suddenly. “I mean — when we were hunting for him, and got “Warm” you’d think Timmy would bark or scrape about or something. But he didn’t.”

“I think it’s jolly funny that Father can’t be found anywhere,” said George. “I do really. I can’t think how you can take it so calmly, Mother.”

“Well, dear, as I said before, I know your father better than you do,” said her mother. “He’ll turn up in his own good time. Why, I remember once when he was doing some sort of work in the stalactite caves at Cheddar, he disappeared in them for over a week — but he wandered out all right when he had finished his experiments.”

“It’s very queer,” began Anne, and then stopped suddenly. A curious noise came to their ears — a rumbling grumbling, angry noise, like a giant hidden dog, growling in fury. Then there was a hissing noise from the tower, and all the wires that waved at the top were suddenly lit up as if by lightning.

“There now — I knew your father was somewhere about,” said George’s mother. “I heard that noise when I was here before — but I couldn’t make out where it came from.”

“Where did it come from?” said Dick. “It sounded almost as if it was underneath us, but it couldn’t have been. Gracious, this is most mysterious.”

No more noises came. They each helped themselves to buns with jam in the middle. And then Anne gave a squeal that made them all jump violently.

“Look! There’s Uncle Quentin! Standing over there, near the tower. He’s watching the jackdaws! Wherever did he come from?”

Chapter Five

A mystery

Everyone stared at Uncle Quentin. There he was, intently watching the jackdaws, his hands in his pockets. He hadn’t seen the children or his wife.

Timmy leapt to his feet, and gambolled over to George’s father. He barked loudly. Uncle Quentin jumped and turned round. He saw Timmy — and then he saw all the others, staring at him in real astonishment.

Uncle Quentin did not look particularly pleased to see anyone. He walked slowly over to them, a slight frown on his face. “This is a surprise,” he said. “I had no idea you were all coming today.”

“Oh Quentin!” said his wife, reproachfully. “I wrote it down for you in your diary. You know I did.”

“Did you! Well, I haven’t looked at my diary since, so it’s no wonder I forgot,” said Uncle Quentin, a little peevishly. He kissed his wife, George and Anne, and shook hands with the boys.