Dickie woke first. A rough blanket covered him, and Mary, breathing evenly, was close against him and keeping him warm. He was lying on a heap of bracken and heather which was tickling his knees and a smell of wood smoke and coffee reminded him that he was hungry again. He rolled over on to his back and saw a rocky roof far above him. For a few moments he lay blissfully recalling the adventures of the previous night, and then there came a pleasant frizzling noise and the smell of something tasty in a frying-pan made him sit up. He saw that they were at the back of the cave, and that between them and the entrance the two American soldiers were busy about a camp fire. Beyond them was the sunshine of a new day. At their feet Macbeth slumbered peacefully.

"Wake up, Mary," he thought, and his sister stirred and sat up at his side.

"Hello, Dickie!" she murmured sleepily. "What have we done, and what will the others say? Adventures just seem to happen to us, but I'm afraid David will be rather cross... And where are we now?"

Jake looked up from the fire and laughed.

"Awake, kiddoes? There's a bucket o' water outside. I guess a wash won't hurt you, but breakfast is ready, and we got to be off soon. We're busy today."

They both felt better after they had put their heads in the water, and when they looked round before going back into the cave saw that they were half-way up the side of a strange and wild valley.

"I know," Dickie said suddenly. "We've walked right through the mountain and come out the other side... I say, Mary, do you think they're Commandos? They might be, you know... Bags they are. I like them both, don't you?"

Mary nodded. "Yes, I do. They're nice. Specially Jake. They're sort of crinkly and ugly, but I like them... But, Dickie, have you thought? We must get home quickly, else they'll be worried, and I'm 'fraid there'll be an awful row..."

Dickie felt the same, but as there did not seem to be much they could do about it, suggested breakfast instead. It was a splendid and unusual breakfast, with Jake and Jerry obviously keen to hear everything about their adventures. But somehow, in daylight instead of moonlight, Uncle Micah did not seem so mysterious and frightening as he had in the Dingle the night before, or when he had been creeping out of the farmyard down to the little white gate. They did their best, but could not make him sound very alarming.

"An' how far away would you reckon this Seven Gates outfit to be?" drawled Jake, as he rolled a cigarette in slim, brown fingers.

"We don't know 'zactly from here, 'cos we've never been here before, but it's not far."

"How far in a truck?" Jake persisted.