“Who’s that?” said Dimmy’s voice.
“It’s us,” said Nora. “Can we come in?”
“Of course,” said Dimmy. “Is one of you ill?”
The children opened the door. Dimmy lighted two candles and sat up in bed and looked at them. Her hair was in two long plaits over her shoulder, and she somehow looked different, but very kind and anxious.
“Where’s Mike?” she said. “Is he ill?”
They sat on her bed, and first one and then another of the children told her the strange story of the Old House, the secret passage from the shore to the cellars of the Old House, the prince who was a prisoner in the tower - and then how Mike had been caught at the top of the rope-ladder.
Dimmy listened in the greatest surprise and astonishment. She asked them questions, she exclaimed in amazement, she groaned with horror when she heard about Mike.
“Well!” she said, when the long story was finished, “so that was your great secret! And a most extraordinary one too. I have wondered what those people up at the Old House were up to - I knew it was something queer and not right. Poor little Prince! What a shame to keep him prisoner like that! I read in the paper how he had disappeared, and no one knew where he was - but little did I think he was so near!”
“How are we to get Mike back?” asked Nora, much happier now that Dimmy knew everything. “And Paul too - he must be rescued before Friday.”
Dimmy thought for a long time. Then she said something that set the children’s hearts beating with excitement.