Читать книгу The Rubadub Mystery - Enid blyton - Страница 8

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They got back to the inn about seven o’clock. Miss Pepper had said they must be in by then because the inn served dinner, and everyone was expected to come in on time for that.

“You are nice and early,” she said, hearing them come up on the landing, and going to her door to greet them. “Did you have a good look round?”

“Rather! It’s a super place,” said Roger. “Did you hear any bangs, Miss Pepper? We did, and a man told us they were from the Secret Submarine base. He says it’s very hush-hush. I wish we could see over it.”

“People don’t see over hush-hush places,” said Miss Pepper. “You might know that. Look, as you’re in so early, I’ll show you something. Dummy showed it to me.”

She led the way to the door behind which was the little staircase. They all went up it wonderingly. Wherever did it lead to? Roger gave an exclamation when he reached the top and pushed up the trap-door to peer out.

“My word—we can see the Secret Base through that cleft in the cliff! How exciting!”

“Let me see!” said Snubby impatiently. “Di, do pull Loony down. He’s pawing so hard at my shorts he’ll make a hole in them. Gosh, Roger—what a view! I say, is that where the explosion came from Miss Pepper?”

“Yes. I actually saw the smoke—or spray, I think it must have been—from the second one,” said Miss Pepper.

“I shall sit up here and watch for the third one,” announced Snubby.

“No, you won’t. You’ll just come straight away down now,” said Miss Pepper.

They all climbed down the little wooden stairway and went out of the door at the bottom, on to the landing. A man was just coming up to it from the lower stairs. He was a tall, thin man, with a long, cadaverous face, and deep-set, rather staring eyes. He looked in surprise at the children coming down the little stairway.

They stared back at him. Diana didn’t like his eyes. She thought they seemed to look right through her, and she shivered. Who was he?

“Good evening,” said Miss Pepper politely. She thought he must be one of the other guests.

“Good evening,” said the man shortly, opened a door and disappeared into his room. He shut the door with a soft click.

Miss Pepper thought over the guests that Mrs. Glump had told her about, and came to the conclusion that the man could only be one of the pierrots who was staying there. Surely he wasn’t the funny man, the comedian of the party? He didn’t look as if he had ever laughed in his life. Then it must be Mr. Matthew Marvels, the conjurer. Well, he certainly looked more like a conjurer than a comedian!

“That must be Mr. Glooomp,” whispered Snubby with a giggle. “Didn’t he look the picture of gloom? Lost a shilling and found a farthing, I should think.”

“Hurry up and change into something clean,” said Miss Pepper. “And do remember that you have dinner here, not supper, and are supposed to look washed and brushed and tidy, and must put on your best manners.”

“Oh dear,” groaned Roger. “Is it that kind of place? Anyway, Snubby’ll have to change. Look at the drips he’s made on the landing already. He fell in a rock-pool.”

“He would, of course,” said Miss Pepper. “Snubby bring me your shorts to dry when you’ve changed into clean, dry ones.”

When the gong boomed out over the house, the three children were all ready. Loony was too. “I’ve brushed him and washed the sand off him,” said Snubby, proudly. “He looks fine, doesn’t he? I want him to make a very good impression on Mr. Tubby Dog.”

They were the first down in the dining-room. A most appetising smell of tomato soup came from the kitchen. Snubby sniffed loudly, and then caught Miss Pepper’s eye.

A very portly dog waddled into the dining-room. He was enormous—a bull-mastiff with a most gloomy and lugubrious face, wrinkles and folds of flesh hanging down his cheeks.

“This must be Mr. Tubby,” said Snubby, eyeing the big dog with awe. “I say—look at his wrinkles. Good evening, Mr. Tubby, let me introduce you to Loony. Mr. Tubby—Mr. Loony.”

“Woof,” said Loony, scared but polite.

“Grrrrr,” said Mr. Tubby, and lifted the skin from his top teeth in a horrifying manner. Loony backed hurriedly into a waiter who was bringing in the soup.

Mr. Tubby walked to a rug by the fireplace and subsided there gradually, with a few rather human-sounding groans. He eyed everyone with a superior and contemptuous air, looking extremely miserable. Then he laid his great head on his paws and let out a sigh that blew along the floor like a draught.

Loony gazed at Mr. Tubby in awe. What a dog! What a grandfather of a dog! Loony felt extremely small and decided to behave himself. He lay down heavily on Snubby’s feet.

The waiter laid plates of tomato soup in front of everyone. They had just begun when the other guests walked into the room. Miss Pepper glanced at them, recognising them from Mrs. Glump’s description.

Mr. Marvels the conjurer came first. He was the man they had met on the landing. Then came a man with a comical face, ears that stuck out and a broad smile. He winked across at the children, and joked with the waiter. He must be the funny man, decided Miss Pepper.

Then came a pretty girl of about twenty, who sat at the table with the conjurer and the funny man. She must be Iris Nightingale, the singer.

Finally came an old man with a beard, and a middle-aged lady fluttering with scarfs and bits of chiffon, and with a coy bow in her over-curled hair.

“Professor James—and Miss Twitt,” thought Miss Pepper, drinking her soup. The children stared round at all the new-comers.

“Now,” said the Professor, stopping just inside the room. “Where’s that dog? Nowhere near my table, I hope.”

Mr. Tubby didn’t even deign to raise his head. Professor James stared at him with dislike and Mr. Tubby stared back sorrowfully and contemptuously.

“Ha! There you are!” said Professor James, advancing to his table. “Well, keep on the rug. Waiter, what soup is it?”

“Tomato, sir,” said the waiter, a bright-eyed youth who had already exchanged a few winks with the irrepressible Snubby.

“What’s that? Speak up, my man,” said the Professor. “Everyone mumbles nowadays.”

“Tomato, sir,” said the waiter, a little more loudly.

“Bless the man—can’t hear a word!” said the old fellow.

“He said ‘TOMATO,’ ” said Snubby helpfully at the top of his voice. Everyone jumped violently including the Professor.

“Who’s shouting?” said the Professor angrily. “Enough to deafen anyone!” He glared round at the children’s table. Snubby got ready to confess at the top of his voice that it was he who had shouted, but Miss Pepper frowned so hard at him that he desisted.

“I should like some more tomato soup,” he said in his normal voice.

A little laugh came to their ears. It was from Miss Twitt, who was sitting at the next table. She leaned over to Miss Pepper, one or two necklaces and bracelets jingling merrily.

“Isn’t he sweet? Trying to be so helpful! And how nice to see such a healthy appetite!”

Snubby looked so completely horrified at being called “sweet” that Roger and Diana had to laugh.

“Such nice-looking children,” gushed Miss Twitt. “Are you their mother?”

“No. I am merely in charge of them,” said Miss Pepper, politely but coldly. Miss Twitt was the kind of person to avoid, she could see! She would rapidly drive the children to rudeness. “My name is Pepper. Miss Pepper.”

“And mine is Twitt. Miss Twitt,” was the reply. “We’ll have to get together, Miss Pepper, when these rascals are safely in bed. I do so love children, don’t you? And dogs, of course. Dear creatures!”

Loony decided to see who this gushing, talkative person was, and he appeared from below the table. This was the signal for a fresh outburst from Miss Twitt.

“Oh, the darling! Oh, I do love cockers! Come to me, my pet. I’ll take you walky-walkies one day, shall I?”

Loony gave her one disgusted look and retired under the table. Mr. Tubby gave what sounded remarkably like a snigger, got up very slowly, and lay down on his rug with his back to Miss Twitt.

“And what are the children’s names?” went on Miss Twitt, who could apparently talk and swallow hot soup at one and the same time. “What’s the little girl’s name?”

“I’m Diana. And I’m not a little girl,” said Diana. “You sound as if you think I’m six!”

“I’m Roger,” said Roger gruffly.

“And I’m Snubby, Miss Twitter,” suddenly beamed Snubby. Diana gave a giggle.

“My name is Twitt, not Twitter,” said Miss Twitt. “And how do you like Rubadub, children? Such a very quaint name, I always feel!”

“Yes, so twee, Miss Twitter,” began Snubby. “Oh, what pretty dinky beads you wear, Miss Twitter.”

“Snubby,” said Miss Pepper, in such a fierce voice that he subsided at once. Miss Twitt looked at her in surprise.

“Get on with your meal, children, and don’t let me hear another word,” said Miss Pepper, afraid of the effect Miss Twitt would have on them if they entered into any lengthy conversation.

Snubby was really scared when Miss Pepper’s voice took on a certain tone. He began on a plate of cold chicken and ham and salad, unusually silent.

“Please, mayn’t we talk now?” asked Diana after a while. “If we just talk to one another, I mean?”

Miss Twitt was now having an animated conversation with the funny man, who played up to her valiantly. Miss Pepper judged it was safe to let the three children use their tongues.

“Very well. But I’ve warned you,” she said. “Don’t go into the lounge after supper, please. Leave it to the other guests.”

“Right. We’ll all go for a walk then,” said Roger. “I don’t want to go into the lounge.”

None of them did. Oh dear, thought Miss Pepper, this was going to be rather a difficult holiday!