It was the first time Mary had run outside since she’d arrived at Misselthwaite. She charged across the muddy ground. The dog bounded behind her, veering to one side and then overtaking her, leading the way down twisting paths that curved through the trees. Mary raced after her, her breath coming in pants as she drew in deep lungfuls of fresh air. It was wonderful to have someone who wanted to be with her! Water and mud splashed up from the puddles, and for the first time in ages she felt properly alive. A laugh burst out of her. The dog barked, and she barked back. The dog danced around her, barking three times. Mary copied her, spinning around, her face lifted to the sky.

The dog bounded to the bottom of a very high wall that was almost completely hidden by a curtain of creepers and disappeared. Mary stopped in surprise and ran to where she had been. She spotted a small hole under the wall. The dog must have crawled through it. “Jemima?” she called.

Nothing happened. Mary felt a wave of disappointment at losing her friend. She was about to turn to go when suddenly the dog’s head reappeared. The dog barked as if she was encouraging Mary to follow.

“I can’t follow you through there, Jemima,” said Mary with a grin. “That hole’s much too small for me. Is this where you live, then?”

The dog whined.

Mary glanced up. The high wall had a thick covering of ivy on top and a tree growing beside it. What’s on the other side? she wondered. Maybe I could climb up and see. . . .

Just then, there was the sound of the bell ringing in the distance and Mrs. Medlock’s voice calling faintly, “Mary! Mary!”

Oh, bother, thought Mary crankily.

Mrs. Medlock’s shouts and bell ringing grew more insistent.

Mary sighed and looked at the dog. “Tomorrow,” she promised, putting the rest of the sandwich down on the ground for it to eat. “I’ll see you then, Jemima. Make sure you come.”

The dog barked, and Mary smiled as she turned away. Her heart felt much lighter as she skipped back to the house. She’d made a friend at Misselthwaite at last.

7

Colin

Mary ran up the grand staircase, moving as quietly as she could, her cotton dressing gown flapping. The wind was blowing hard outside the house that night, and the moon was the only source of light. Mary’s heart was beating fast, but she had to solve the mystery of the wailing cry.