Jon bit his lip to stop himself crying out as he heard Mr. Grandon say, "Only rats. Any old place like this is alive with 'em!" and then laugh as his companion screamed and ran outside. Mr. Grandon followed more slowly, but Jon was in such pain that although he crawled over to the opening, he dared not trust himself to the steps until the pain was easier. When he could walk again, he found the steps were difficult, but he managed the descent somehow without hurting himself.

The storm had passed now and the sun was shining brightly again as Jon made his way carefully along the sunken road and back into Winchelsea. He passed a few people, but there was no sign of Slinky. He was wondering whether there was another way out of the town without passing the look-out when he realized that it did not matter now whether Miss Ballinger was there or not, as she had not been the person with whom Slinky had made the appointment.

She was still there, however, and called out to him as he passed.

"Good evening, my young friend," she boomed at him over her easel. "So you have soon found Winchelsea. Come over here and tell me what you think of her... And where is the little red-head? 'Penny,' I think you called her... Ah, yes! Penelope, no doubt! A headache, eh? Dear, dear! Such misfortune on such a lovely day. So you are exploring on your own? Come closer, my boy, and tell me if you recognize the old gate. Twenty times I have painted this at different seasons of the year, and it never looks the same... It is the light off the levels, but I shall never be satisfied... What are you telling me? That you have been exploring on your own? And what have you been exploring, my young man? Look at the dust on your knees!"

In horror, Jon realized that she had seen something which he had not noticed himself! He was wearing shorts today and his brown knees were grey with the dust of the old mill.

"I don't know where I've picked that up, Miss Ballinger, unless it was climbing an elm tree this morning after a wood pigeon's nest... I like your picture very much indeed. I think it's wonderful."

She went on with her painting; but while she worked she fired all sorts of inquisitive questions at him about the Dolphin and his mother and what he thought of the old house and whether he had explored it all yet.

"I'm interested in old places and old things," she said, "so be sure and let me know if you find any old papers or maps. And be sure that you don't take 'em to a junk-shop in Hastings or Rye. Bring 'em to me. I'll buy 'em from you."