At this, I think it is safe to say everyone’s blood froze. Because, of course, Zebediah was right. We could no longer believe it was a coincidence that Fixing Bob and the plane were both gone. Our last hope had been that Fixing Bob had no way to get the plane going without the access code. But if the hermit had really given it to him, then Fixing Bob was in it up to his eyebrows. And, who knows, perhaps all the Maddens would be arrested as spies. And who was the hermit or who had he been to have access to the security code of Canada’s most top-secret surveillance plane?

“I’m going to go talk to the hermit,” said Old Tom, standing up. “Turn the radio off, Sina. Leave the dishes for morning, Gladys, and go to your cabin. Children, go to bed.”

Old Tom seldom gave orders, and it startled us. Sina turned the radio off with a smart snap of the dial and then said, “Yes, off you go, children. There’s no more to be done here tonight.”

“But we’ll never sleep,” said Winifred.

“I’ll bring you some hot milk with chamomile,” said Sina.

She and Old Tom suddenly seemed very grown-up in a way they weren’t usually. And very efficient and decided, not their old dozy selves at all. “Come on, now, off you go to think cheerful thoughts,” said Sina. “If there’s any news at all, I will wake you, but there’s no point staying up for no news.”

Old Tom had already put on his heavy wool shirt and taken his flashlight. We could see its progression across the fields. We went to our rooms. I was going to offer to let Winifred stay with me that night, but I could tell that the Maddens were stunned and not in the mood for chitchat of even the most sympathetic sort.

I was lying in bed listening to the sounds of Sina stoking the stove, rattling pans, heating up milk, and getting out cups when suddenly I heard something else. Feet padding across the floor and down the stairs.

What in the world? I said to myself, and when the back door banged, I went to the window and saw Zebediah running barefoot toward the night garden. Before I had time to do anything, he had climbed like a monkey up the fence and hoisted himself over to the other side. Once in the garden, which was glowing in the moonlight, he stood for just one second before disappearing. He was simply gone completely. Vanished into thin air.

I ran upstairs to Winifred’s room. She was in bed, staring at the ceiling and clearly not thinking the cheerful thoughts she had been ordered to think.

“What?” asked Winifred.

“Zebediah…” I began.

“Yes, I know,” said Winifred. “He told us he was going to the outhouse.”