Chapters (14)
The stove was made safe and Mary and Peter went upstairs. Mary slipped quickly into her pyjamas and snuggled into her fleecy sleeping-bag. She saw Peter kneeling by the window, and was reminded to say an apologetic little prayer herself, and then she put out her hand to feel Macbeth at her side and fell instantly asleep.
It was some hours later that she woke with the feeling that something was going to happen. She had these feelings sometimes about Dickie and with Dickie, but it was not that now. The moon shone full on her face. The yard below was picked out in black and silver, and Peter was breathing peacefully a yard away. Then Macbeth stirred, and Mary, with a hand on his neck, felt the suspicion of a growl start in his throat. She was wide awake now and knelt up in the sleeping-bag to look out of the window. And, as she watched, the door of the house opened and Uncle Micah stood, a lonely figure, in the moonlight. He turned his head to look up at the mountain, and with a shock Mary saw his face. It was blank, expressionless, frightening.
She shivered. "He looks as if he's asleep," she thought. "He's lonely."
The old man closed the door silently, and with quick, mechanical steps crossed the yard and passed out of sight. Just for a second she wondered whether to wake Peter, and then she thought, "No. This is Dickie and me. This is another adventure for us," and without another thought she scrambled into her clothes. At the top of the stairs she stopped and ran back for her heavy sweater, then she crept down into the barn.
The moonlight was slanting in through the windows here and a cinder fell in the stove as she passed. She could hear David breathing gently in the far corner. She was just wondering how best to wake Dickie when a shadow over by the door moved. Mary's heart was thudding so hard that her body seemed to shake, and she held her breath in suspense. Then she realized that Macbeth was at her side and that his tail was wagging against her leg. The shadow moved again, and Dickie padded across the floor into a patch of moonlight, struggling into his sweater as he came.
"What is it, twin?" he whispered. "Adventure for us?"
Mary nodded, and without another word they crept to the great doors and slipped out into the night. Hand in hand, two tiny figures dwarfed by the great buildings, and the mountains above them, they stood listening in the moonlight. Then, clear but far away, came a sharp click.
"That's the latch of that little white gate, Mary... the one leading to the Dingle... you know..." and together they turned in that direction.
A little black dog trotted at their heels.