David was fairly solid, and even Mr. Ingles swayed as he strained himself upright. David held out one hand for the torch, while with the other he grabbed the ivy. He was high enough to see into the room. He could just slip his right hand in through the open window, and said very quietly, "All right, Mackie, old boy. Quiet, Mackie! Down, boy! Quiet!" And even as he found the switch he heard a faint "thud, thud," which he knew was Macbeth's tail wagging.

This is what he saw. In the far corner of a small and sparsely-furnished room was a bed against the wall. Stretched across the bed, fully clothed and fast asleep, were the twins. They looked grubby and tired, but otherwise unhurt. Sitting on the end of the bed, his eyes glinting like emeralds in the light of the torch, was Macbeth. His ears were cocked and his tail beat a frenzied tattoo on the blanket.

"Here, boy," whispered David, and the little dog flopped off the bed and tried to jump on to the window ledge. David put down the torch inside and used his hand to scratch Mac behind the ears.

"Good old boy," he whispered. "Go find them. Wake them."

Mac was making little crying noises in his throat now. He didn't quite realize what was expected of him beyond the fact that he had to restrain his joy.

"Go wake them," David was saying. "Go on, boy! Quick! Wake them," and then his head disappeared and there was a scrambling noise from outside.

Actually, David had forgotten the other two in his excitement, and couldn't hear Mr. Ingles' urgent whispering. Not until his ankle was pinched did he withdraw his head from the room. Mr. Ingles tottered ominously as the boy grabbed at the ivy. "Come down, boy," he muttered. "And stop fidgeting about. Come down and give me a rest." There seemed nothing for it, so David transferred his weight to the ivy for a moment, and then Mr. Ingles grasped his waist and helped him down.

"Now. Are they there?"

David told them quickly. "Now you must hold me up again, and we'll wake the twins somehow, so that they can open the window wide enough for me to get in and help them."

"Very well, David," he said quickly. "Up with you again, and do your best. But keep cool and you must be quiet. Not a sound from any of you. Get into the room sharp as you can, and if you're strong enough lower the kids one at a time from the window, I can lift them down. If you can't manage that you'll have to let them down on a sheet. But be quick, lad, and be quiet. Now up with you again..."

When he shone the torch into the room again David saw Macbeth on the bed. The dog turned to look at him, wagged his tail and started to lick Dickie's face.