The Gay Dolphin Adventure Read online

  Contents

  Foreword

  1. Friday: Jon and Penny

  2. Saturday: Mr. Grandon

  3. Saturday: nt 8 April 7

  4. Sunday: The Mill

  5. Monday: Beach View

  6. Tuesday: Allies

  7. Tuesday Night: Trader's Passage

  8. Wednesday: Roman's Isle

  9. Wednesday: Penny and the Twins in Trouble

  10. Wednesday: Jon and David to the Rescue

  11. Wednesday: Noah's Ark

  12. Thursday: 15-6-10

  The Gay Dolphin Adventure

  Malcolm Saville

  A Lone Pine Adventure

  First revised edition published in 1969 by Wm. Collins Sons and Co. Ltd., London and Glasgow, This edition was first published in 1970 by May Fair Books Ltd., 14 St. James's Place, London S.W.I, and was printed in Great Britain by Love & Malcomson Ltd., Brighton Road, Redhill, Surrey.

  CONDITIONS OF SALE: This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  For My Wife

  Foreword

  In the western corner of Kent there stretches for some twenty miles in length by three to eight in depth the lonely and mysterious Romney Marsh-land which once was covered by the sea and now is below its level, dotted with sheep and intersected by deep, dark dykes.

  On the Kent-Sussex border, at the very edge of the Marsh, the ancient town of Rye clings in a huddle of grey walls and red roofs to a rocky pyramid rising abruptly from the windy levels. You can go to Rye, as Jon and Penny did, to explore for yourself its cobbled streets and narrow winding courts and alleys. You will not find the Gay Dolphin, nor Trader's Street, but there is a street from the end of which you can look out over Camber Castle to the sea. And two miles away to the west, on another but very different kind of hill, Rye's forgotten sister port of Winchelsea drowses in the sun and you can go there, too, and perhaps find the old windmill in which Jon hid.

  The country in which this story is set is real, but the people are not and have no reference to any living person. Hastings, Rye and Winchelsea are three of the seven Cinque Ports that in the Middle Ages were responsible for the sea defence of England and were the cradle of the British Navy. The other ports are New Romney, Hythe, Dover and Sandwich.

  M.S.

  1. Friday: Jon and Penny

  The morning sunlight, slanting down through the murky roof and through the smoke and steam of Charing Cross Station, settled in silvery pools round the bookstalls and barriers. Sometimes the scurrying passengers were caught in the beams and picked out, as actors are on the stage by the spotlights.

  Just by the entrance of the main departure platform a particularly broad beam caught and then held two hatless heads - one red and the other yellow. The red-head was a girl of about fifteen with wide-set grey eyes and a tip-tilted, freckled nose.

  Her name was Penelope Warrender, but she was always called Penny. Sometimes Jonathan, her cousin, called her "Newpenny" because of the colour of her hair, and now he was grinning down at her in the superior way which always infuriated her.

  "What are you going to do, you idiot?" Penny was storming at him. "It's no use standing there grinning when you've left the tickets behind. And you haven't got enough money to buy any more. You know you haven't, Jon... If you'd got any sense at all you'd go now and ask a policeman or someone to lend you the money."

  Her cousin hunched up the knapsack on his back and ran his fingers through his tousled hair. He was four inches taller than Penny and just sixteen. Never, under any circumstances, could Jon look tidy. Always his wrists seemed longer than his sleeves and his trousers too short. His tie, when he remembered to put it on, was often adrift from his collar and his rather heavy glasses inclined to hide the intelligence of his eyes.

  "I did not say I'd left the tickets at home," he explained carefully. "I said that I wouldn't much mind if I had because I could spend a very pleasant hour or so here inspecting these engines."

  Jon felt in his pocket, produced two green tickets, heaved up his cousin's suitcase and joined the queue passing through the barrier.

  "We've absolutely got to get a carriage to ourselves, Jon," she said. "We can't start off an adventure like this with anybody else. When we find an empty one I'll pretend to have whooping cough if you like, and you can keep everyone at bay from the window. That generally works, doesn't it? Or would you rather be the whooper? I don't care really, but I'm pretty good. I did it last term once on the way to a match... Look! Here's an empty one... No, it isn't. That's no good. Two kids and their grandmother just come in from the corridor... Come on, Jon! Do buck up. I can't think why everyone wants to travel today..." and she chatted on while Jon pursued his leisurely way up the platform.

  Jon was quite used to her breathless, impetuous ways, for the cousins stayed together in the holidays. Penny's parents were in India, and she had not seen them for some years, and Mrs. Warrender, her aunt, was almost nearer to her than her own mother. And she had worshipped her uncle, who had been killed in the war.

  The suitcase was heavy, so Jon put it down for a moment to rest, while Penny dodged round the refreshment trolley and hurried ahead.

  Suddenly Penny called:

  "Hi, Jon! Buck up! I've got one!" And there she was almost as far as the engine and waving wildly.

  There were not many minutes to go now before the train left, and the big engine was hissing gently just under the signals. Jon had his eyes fixed on it and did not notice the porter until he had collided with him. He apologized and then looked in astonishment at the woman whose luggage the porter was carrying. She was the sort of person that deserved a second glance if only because of her extraordinary appearance. She was short and very broad and rather inclined to waddle. A bright orange scarf was most un-becomingly draped round her greyish hair, which was cut short like that of a man. As she turned to speak to the porter, Jon, groping again for the suitcase which he had dropped, saw that she wore heavy horn-rimmed glasses, with lenses so thick that it was difficult to see her eyes.

  "Come along, my man," she was saying. "Never mind that star-gazing lad. He should look where he's going. You hurry on and get me a corner... And don't drop those bags..." and she turned her enormous back on Jon and waddled after the porter.

  Jon, still fascinated by the crude check design of the strange woman's costume, was slow to follow until he realized that Penny, hopping first on one leg and then on the other and grimacing horribly, was urging him to greater speed as the porter approached the compartment she was guarding. Jon saw the danger and spurted, but he was still ten yards away when Penny jumped in and slammed the door. The porter reached the compartment, looked in, put down the bags and was just about to open the door when Penny let the window down, put out her head and was seized with an awful fit of coughing. The porter was almost blown backwards by the blast, but he rallied and put his hand to the door again.

  Penny, now scarlet in the face, shook her head at him, but before she could speak the large woman arrived, with Jon only just behind her.

  "Come along! Come along!" she boomed. "Open the door, man! Open the door. This will do as well as anything else, I suppose... What's the matter with you, child? Let me in, please."

  Penny gasped piteously and fought for breath.

  "Oh, Jon, dear... There you are at last... Tell the lady, Jon... I think we ought to tell her..."

  "Nah then, missy," said the porter, opening the door, "you go an' corf in
the corridor and let me get the lidy's baggage in."

  Penny moved reluctantly aside, glaring fiercely at Jon as she did so. The porter put four suitcases on the rack, while the woman fumbled in a great black bag and presented him with a tip. Then she heaved herself into the carriage and flopped down in the seat opposite Penny.

  "And what is it that you ought to tell me, my dear?" she asked as her bag slid off her lap to the floor.

  Penny picked it up for her and, to Jon's admiration, gazed at the woman with wide, innocent eyes.

  "Well," she said, "I've had whooping cough, and we thought..."

  "Oh, we did, did we? I've had it too, my dear, so you needn't worry... Now, my boy, come in if you're coming, and don't fiddle about there in the doorway."

  Jon flushed with annoyance and squeezing past the big woman's knees he dumped his knapsack on the rack in the far corner.

  "Coming over here, Jon?" Penny asked hopefully.

  "No, thanks," he said tersely. "I shall be busy on this side for a bit, and I want you to stay over there and write down the numbers of any engines you see. Got the pencil I gave you? And the paper?"

  Penny looked out of the window. The train was gliding swiftly now above the squalid rooftops of the South London slums, which for a minute were hidden by a green electric train overtaking them. She fumbled in the pocket of her blazer for a pencil and looked up to catch the large woman's eye. She was not sure, but she thought the stranger winked at her. It was difficult to be certain because her glasses were so thick, but just then a big engine hurtled by on her side and Jon called, "Did you get her, Penny?"

  "Oh, I'm so sorry, Jon, but I didn't quite..." she began when the strange woman surprisingly interrupted and called out the number of the engine.

  "And here's a pencil, my dear. I always have stacks of pencils" - and she dived into the untidy black bag and produced a handful.

  Jon turned from the other window in amazement. "I say," he said, "thanks awfully. That was jolly quick of you. Are you keen on engines?"

  "Not a bit," was the answer. "But I'm quick to see things," and there was quite a friendly note in her voice as she smiled at them both.

  When the train had left the edge of London behind and was roaring through the suburbs, she asked Jon to get one of her cases from the rack and then produced some chocolate.

  "Share it between you," she said. After this it was difficult for them not to be friendly when she spoke to them, and Jon was trying to guess what she was and where she was going when she gave herself away by looking suddenly at Penny and saying abruptly:

  "I'd like to sketch you, my child. Can you stay still for a few minutes like that? Look out of the window."

  Penny flushed as the woman groped in the bag again and brought out one of the pencils and an old envelope and began to draw with quick, firm strokes.

  Jon crossed to her side and saw Penny coming to life on a scrap of paper.

  "Why, you're an artist!" he blurted out in admiration, and the woman laughed.

  "I always enjoy being told so," she said, giving the envelope to him. "Perhaps you would like to keep this of your sister? If you don't want it, I dare say someone else will one day... But is she your sister? You're not much alike."

  "No. We're cousins, but Penny's people are in India, so she lives with us in the holidays... What do you think of yourself, Penny? Funny little thing, aren't you?"

  "Ballinger is my name," the woman put in. "And, of course you can have that. Send it to your parents and tell them I'd like to paint you one day."

  It was just when the train ran through Tonbridge that Miss Ballinger looked up from her paper and said, "Are you off to Hastings for your summer holiday? Late to start in September, isn't it?"

  "We're not really going on a holiday at all, Miss Ballinger. This is all rather an adventure for us, though I expect Jon is too grown-up to admit it. You see, we're going to our new home and we've never even seen it before. Everyone I've told about it says that Rye is wonderful. Do you know it...?"

  "Know it?" she said. "Of course I know it. And Winchelsea, too. I've got a little place down on Winchelsea beach. You'd both better come over and see me one day. How long are you staying in Rye?"

  "We go back to school on the twenty-second," Jon said. "But we'll have a fortnight. I wonder if you know the Gay Dolphin? It's a little hotel in Trader's Street, and that's where we're going to live. "My mother's been down there for three weeks getting the place ready, and now we're going down to help a bit before she opens properly," Jon continued. "You see, it wasn't very easy for her with Penny and me at school when Dad was killed, and then an old uncle of Mother's who had lived in Rye all his life died. He owned the Gay Dolphin and he left it to her."

  "I've stayed there before now," Miss Ballinger nodded. "I know it well. I've sketched it many a time from Trader's Street. Well, young man, if your mother wants guests, I'll come. I remember that the place was not very well run. When does she re-open? Do you know?"

  Jon produced his wallet and took a neatly-folded letter from it. Before he spoke again Penny looked out of the window. They had passed Tunbridge Wells now and were rushing through the lovely Sussex Weald.

  Jon was talking again.

  "I've got a long letter from Mother here. Perhaps you'd like to hear what she says about it all?"

  Miss Ballinger nodded. "Indeed, I would. I love Rye, and I know you'll love the Dolphin as much as I do."

  Jon smiled and went on. "There's nothing about the place on the first page except that she says she has kept on the manager, which is a big help; but of course we shall have to help her to make a real success of it. I believe Americans come to Rye a lot and we hope some will stay at the Gay Dolphin. And will you tell your friends about it, too, Miss Ballinger? It's decent of you to say you'll come, but what about your cottage? You won't want to stay with us if you've got somewhere else to live, will you?"

  "Oh, yes, I will. My bungalow - it's not a cottage - was the only place in Winchelsea I could get and, as I told you, I like the Dolphin, and I'll like it better still if it's got a new owner... Does your mother say when she's going to open? But you can ask her to put my name down, anyhow. Read me what she says about Rye, for I say it's a magic little town that casts a spell over everyone who comes in under the old gateways and climbs its cobbled streets."

  Penny looked up in surprise. Miss Ballinger's voice changed as she spoke the last words quite softly.

  "Yes," replied Jon. "Mother says that, too. She says we'll never want to go away again, for Rye is like home at once... Here it is... She tells us about Winchelsea, too. 'I can hardly believe that two such places as these ancient ports really exist,' she says, 'and because I want you both to see them for the first time in the best way I want you to come to Hastings, and Vasson, my nice porter, will bring the old car over to meet you there... Our Gay Dolphin is great fun, and I know you'll both love it! Your rooms are ready, and Jon's is in the front with a little window looking two ways - one out into the street in front and the other down the street, right over the very edge of the town across the flat marsh to the sea.' What does she mean by the marsh, Miss Ballinger?" he added as he turned the page.

  "It's the flat land reclaimed from the sea that stretches from Rye on its hill to the sand dunes. I'll tell you more about it presently if there's time, but we're getting on fast now. It's really the western edge of Romney Marsh... I'd like to hear what else your mother says."

  He went on: "This is the bit I was looking for, Miss Ballinger. Here it is. She says... 'I'm sure there are secret passages and ghosts here, and one of the maids told me that this was one of the inns used by the Marsh smugglers in olden days. She said that the window in Jon's room was built to jutt out over the street so that a lantern placed there could be seen away down at the little harbour at the mouth of the muddy river two miles away, where the boats would be waiting with contraband from France, to be exchanged for wool from the Marsh sheep. This is a strange old house, but I know that I can make it real
ly lovely, although Uncle Charles certainly left it in a muddle. And this reminds me that the old man has left me a lot of ancient documents and letters that look as if they won't be de-ciphered until Jon has had the wit to translate them. So you can see that there'll be plenty for you both to do, with secret papers and new places to explore.' "

  He looked up from the page.

  "Do you think she's right, Miss Ballinger? It sounds great, doesn't it?"

  "It certainly does. I should like to see those old documents she mentions. I'm interested in things like that... Does she say when she'll be ready for visitors?"

  Jon skipped the last pages.

  "No, she doesn't say that. There's a bit here about the new manager. She doesn't say a lot really about him, but I don't think she likes him... But we shall soon know for ourselves."

  Another station flashed backwards as he spoke.

  The long train was swinging round a steep curve and away to the right they could see the greenish-blue of the sea and the yellow line of the shingle beach. They had hardly got their luggage down before the train stopped at the first of the St. Leonards' stations. Then, after two more tunnels, with another station in between, came Hastings. Jon reached up for Miss Ballinger's cases.

  "Don't you bother, my lad. I'll get a porter to do that. Good-bye to you both, for the present. No, don't wait for me... Be off with you... Good-bye..."

  Jon looked at her in some surprise for she seemed suddenly in a great hurry to be rid of them.

  "Well, thank you for telling us all about Rye," Penny said impetuously. "Perhaps we'll see you again some time."

  "Maybe you will. Good-bye! Good-bye!"

  Jon got out without paying much attention to his cousin. His mind seemed to be on other things, and when Penny had struggled out with her own case she saw him working his way up the platform against the crowds making for the bridge behind her. Penny was not the kind of girl who liked to be overlooked, so she dumped her case down outside the Refreshment Room and stalked after him up the platform.