The Cat’s Eye Shell Read Online Free PDF

He might know where we can find the Wells family.’
    â€˜What would a priest know about gypsies?’ Luka asked scornfully.
    â€˜He might know an awful lot,’ Emilia said, stifling a yawn. ‘He knew about the secret passage.’
    â€˜Only because he fled down it, leaving the rest of the castle to be taken prisoner.’
    â€˜They would have killed him if they’d found him, and probably tortured him first,’ Emilia said. ‘He’s awfully brave, if you think about it. No one likes him, not even the duke, really. They all think he’s dangerous, somehow, because he’s a priest. I think he’s nice.’
    Luka frowned. He would have much preferred it if he and Emilia could go off on their own and not get caught up in the affairs of these Royalist rebels. But he had absolutely no idea where they were, and he was so weary and footsore himself that he only sighed and shrugged and followed the others across the bridge and up the road towards the village.
    An easy balm of late sunlight lay over the meadows below, turning all to gold. They walked slowly, uneasily, turning their faces often to listen for the sounds of the evening. Someone was cutting firewood with a regular thunk, thunk that rang out over the valley. Sheep baaed and cows mooed. The river sang softly between its banks, and rushes rustled secretively. Smoke was rising up from the forest, a straight thin line of grey that dissolved into the dusk.
    The fugitives circled the village, taking advantage of the thick woods that clustered close about the houses, and then cut through to the castle’s grounds.
    From a distance it was quite simply the prettiest place Emilia had ever seen. Small and dainty, built of stone, and surrounded by tall waving grass, it overlooked a stretch of blue water. A tall gatehouse guarded the manor house, and it was not till they were walking up the long drivethat they noticed it stood open and unguarded, and honeysuckle strangled the heavy oak portcullis. Weeds stood high in the flowerbeds and sprouted between the flagstones. The manor house within the walls lay half in ruins, the roof of the great hall gaping open with blackened rafters, the mullioned windows cracked and cobwebbed.
    â€˜Such a shame,’ the duke said, looking about him sadly. ‘Such a lovely spot. Think what it would be like on a peaceful summer’s evening.’
    â€˜Is there anyone here?’ Lord Harry wondered, striding forward under the ancient portcullis. ‘It looks abandoned.’
    â€˜The Roundheads took over the estate after Arundel fell,’ Father Plummer said. ‘John Goring, who had rented Amberley Castle from the Crown, was most loyal to the king. He went down to the inn there in Amberley and knelt before the whole parish and drank a toast to the prince. He said Parliament was made up of knaves and rogues, andno Roundhead would ever have his castle. So, of course, they came, took the castle and made a ruin of it, and drove poor John Goring away. I don’t know what happened to him. Maybe he was imprisoned, maybe he paid his tax and settled somewhere else. In the meantime, Amberley is abandoned.’
    â€˜A crying shame,’ the duke said, and led the way up the long drive to the house.
    Roses hung heavy over the front entrance, and the air was filled with the hum of bees and the scent of flowers. Emilia felt a great knot in her chest unravel. She had not even known it was there. She followed the others into the house, marvelling at the beautiful carved rafters. Rollo loped at her heels, his ears pricked forward.
    Although the roof had caved in, and most of the rooms were filled with leaves and branches and mouse droppings, there was one room that was virtually intact, with a fireplace and a big old oakdresser and some chairs, and an oak chest with some moth-eaten quilts.
    â€˜We can make camp here,’ the duke said, looking about him. ‘It’s protected from view. We