“There is a ten foot wall all round it, so it is impossible for them to have climbed over. The only way out is past the Head Mistress’ desk. She was sitting there the whole of the break, and declares that for the whole ten minutes of the luncheon time, the hall was entirely deserted and no one passed her. It seems impossible for them to have left the playground that way, and equally impossible by the front entrance.”
“Why it sounds like witchcraft,” said Alan.
A voice startled them. It was Mrs. Slater; her eyes red from weeping. “I beg of you two young gentlemen to go,” she sobbed. “The ‘Curse’ is upon us.”
“We are going,” said Alan gently, “but we will do our utmost to discover the children. Now let us have our account.” But the woman threw out her hands before her with a cry.
“No-No-Not a penny, sir.”
“Oh, come, Mrs. Slater, don’t be foolish. Let us have our bill,” urged Alan.
But Mrs. Slater was obdurate. “It’s only two days you owe me, sir, and I wouldn’t touch a penny. You are quite welcome to what you’ve had, only go—go!” It was useless to argue and they left the house with heavy hearts, and went toward the blacksmith’s in order to ask some one to take their luggage away for them.
“Good morning, Jim,” said Alan pleasantly as they reached the forge. The man looked up and greeted them carefully, and as he saw Alan about to step across the threshold he gave a cry.
“Do’ant ’ee put your foot inside, gentlemen, do’ant ’ee please! Oh, the ‘Curse’ be upon us all!”
The boys shrugged their shoulders helplessly, and Alan spoke quickly.