Mystery at Witchend

Malcolm Saville

First revised edition published in 1969 by Wm. Collins Sons and Co. Ltd., London and Glasgow. This edition first published 1971 by Wm. Collins Sons and Co. Ltd., 14 St. James's Place, London S.W.1.

© Malcolm Saville

Printed by Love & Malcomson Ltd., Brighton Road, Redhill, Surrey.

CONDITIONS OF SALE

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Foreword

Much of what Bill Ward told the children is true. There is actually a mountain called the Long Mynd in the high-lands of Shropshire - a wild, rolling hill, with steep and lonely valleys or "gutters" as they are called locally, on the eastern side.

Caer Caradoc, like a crouching lion, does guard the vale between the Stretton hills, and over towards the borders of Wales another lonely range called the Stiperstones is crowned with black rocks which are hidden by the mists as "he" takes his seat on his throne.

The country in which this story is set is real, but if you are ever lucky enough to explore it for yourself you will not find Witchend or Appledore or Hatchholt and its reservoir. There is no village called Onnybrook and all the people you will read about in these pages are imaginary and have no reference to any living person.

M.S.

1. Witchend

They changed trains at Shrewsbury. "Promise me, twins," said Mrs. Morton, "that you'll stay here with the luggage and look after Macbeth. Don't move till we come back. David is going to find a porter and I'll see if I can get something to eat."

"All right, Mummy," said Richard. "Trust us."

"We swear," said Mary solemnly, as she sat herself firmly on a trunk and hoisted an agitated little black dog up beside her. Macbeth was grateful for this attention and licked her face. He hated trains and crowds. People trod on him.

David didn't feel particularly grown-up as he went up the long platform. He knew he ought to be. He remembered what his father had said. "Take care of Mother for me, old chap, and look after those awful twins as well. I know you'll all love Witchend, and I want you to have a good time while I'm away... But be sensible and remember that I trust you not to do silly things."

The crowds were thinning out now. The guard waved his flag, and the long chocolate and cream train slid out on its way to Chester and Birkenhead. David watched the last coach disappear round the bend, and when he turned an old porter was standing just behind him.

"And where be you going, young man?"