"He's gone in and I heard him lock the door. Oh, Dickie! Do you think we've done the right thing so far? Do you think the others will think we're all right? We are doing all right, aren't we?"

"Well, we can't break down the door of his room," Dickie said reluctantly. "I wish we could. That would be fun... Do you know, twin, I think he quite likes us."

"Do you?" Mary replied, "I shouldn't think he could. I don't think I would if I was him... Do you think he's escaping out of the window?... Quick, Dickie. You go outside and watch his window and I'll go and play about on the landing just in case he does come out and really means to take us with him."

But Mr Cantor did keep his word and when the three of them, and Macbeth, went out into the sunshine the clock on the church was striking noon. They crossed the bridge, and as they trudged up the long hill, Mr Cantor told them stories of the border lands of Wales and England which are called the Welsh Marches.

The Plough and Harrow fitted Mary's description exactly. From the outside it looked as if it was falling to pieces and the old signboard creaked eerily in the wind as they stood wondering whether anyone had ever ventured over the threshold before.

"I don't like it so much now I'm here," Mary admitted. "I wonder if they'll let us in?"

Mr Cantor then tried the door which, to their surprise, was not locked and led the way into a stone-flagged passage. On the right they saw the flicker of flames through an open door and, with a cry of delight, Mary slipped ahead and sat down on a stool right inside a great fireplace as big as a small room, in which a fire of logs was burning. An old woman stepped into the room behind them and looked at the children as if she did not like them there. Mr Cantor went out into the passage with her and closed the door, and strain their ears as they would, the twins could hear nothing beyond the rumble of voices.

"What shall we do?" Dickie hissed. "D'you think he's in league with her? We must listen to them somehow."

Mary looked worried.

"We can't do that, Dickie. Don't be so silly. If we go out we shall give the game away... I say, Dickie, I'm not enjoying this adventure 'cos I'm beginning to like him."

"Like him?" her twin snorted. "How could you like a beast like that? Have you forgotten what he said about Reuben and Miranda?... I wish I knew what he's talking about."