Dimmy was surprised to hear that Jack wanted some meat and biscuits that evening. She had given the children a good supper of stewed raspberries, cream, and home-made bread and butter, and as Jack had had three helpings she really couldn’t believe that he now wanted meat and biscuits.
“I think you must be going to have a midnight feast in your room,” she said. “Well - for once in a way I’ll let you have it.”
Jack chuckled, and winked at the others. “It’s for a midnight picnic all right!” he said. “But not in my bedroom, Dimmy.”
Dimmy didn’t hear the last bit, for she had gone out of the room. She made Jack some ham sandwiches and gave him a bag of biscuits. He was pleased.
“Thank you,” he said. “That’s jolly good of you, Dimmy.”
“Well, if you feel ill to-morrow, it’ll be your own fault,” said Dimmy, with a laugh. She really was an awfully good sort.
When it got dark Jack put the sandwiches and biscuits into a bag and said good-bye to the others. They wanted to come too and wait outside the wall, but Jack wouldn’t let them.
“No,” he said. “If they smell you or hear you those dogs will bark their heads off. I must go alone. I’ll come back in about two hours.”
He slipped down the winding staircase and out into the garden without Dimmy seeing him. He set off quietly up the cliff towards the Old House, which loomed up large and dark against the night-sky. He could quite well see the round tower on one side of it, and at the top was a faint light.
“I suppose poor Prince Paul is up there trying to read or something,” said Jack to himself, feeling sorry for the little prisoner all alone in the tall tower. “How I wish we could rescue him quickly!”