‘It seems impossible, doesn’t it?’ she said slowly. ‘Here they all sat last night around the table laden with good things to eat. And now this morning everything—everybody—gone! It can’t have been a dream because we both saw it all. And two people couldn’t have exactly the same dream.’
‘Yet—if somebody made them dream—I’m not so sure,’ said Giles.
‘What do you mean, if somebody made them dream?’ asked Anne.
‘Well, if it’s possible to read people’s thoughts maybe it’s possible to give them thoughts. And Mother says that dreams are only the thoughts you think while sleeping. So perhaps someone might be able to make two people think the same thing while they were asleep ... Anyway, come. Let us be going. We’ve got to hurry.’
Together they ran for the front door, knocked away the broom handle and leapt out.
Then before they could stop themselves they had stumbled over a bent figure seated on the steps. They fell sprawling into the yard. The figure was Agnes the Applewoman. She rose and without a word walked into the inn.
‘Agnes!’ called Anne. ‘Agnes! We want to speak with you!’
The Applewoman paid no attention. They ran into the inn after her. But she was nowhere to be seen. They searched the rooms upstairs and the cellars below. Yet not a sign of Agnes could they find.
Suddenly Giles said: ‘Oh, my! That shell is burning again. Let’s get home quick. We’ve got to stop Father from going to the Mayor.’
And together they raced out of the house and down the road.