Then, of a sudden, with a throaty whisper ten times more startling than a cry, Cherry sprang from her seat.
The stillness of the countryside had been shattered by a crash that appeared to come from their own farmyard. Truth was, a bomb had fallen on their village two miles away.
Chapter XIV
A Dungeon Night
There came a second blast. A deathlike silence followed. This was soon enough shattered by the anxious call of the cook, demanding to know if all were well and by the excited cry of the children. Then, from outside, came the honk of an auto horn.
The door swung open. A voice shouted:
“All out for a moonlit visit to the ancient Norman castle.”
It was the young Lord Applegate. “Pile into the car, all of you.” His tone was sharp, commanding. “This is going to be bad. A dozen Jerry bombers circling around looking for targets, and the moon making everything bright as day. Your broad roof shows up all too clearly.”
Dashing to the corner of the room, Dave seized two buckets of water to drench the fire. They were to recall this act later, with thanksgiving.
In an incredibly short time they were all crowded into the big car and away.
Through the back window of the racing car Alice caught a fleeting glimpse of her home, the only home she had ever known. Standing there in the cool, shadowy moonlight, with great trees banked behind it, the old house seemed a thing of indescribable beauty. Yet the word that came to the girl’s mind was “lonely”. For a space of seconds it seemed to her that she must leap from the car and race back to be with the dear old house in its great time of trial.