‘Eh?’ exclaimed Doctor Mayhew, much startled by this information. ‘How did that happen, then? How did that come about?’

  Captain Osbaldeston explained. He had just abandoned his fruitless search for Dark Diamond on the previous evening, he said, and was about to up anchor and make for home when, shortly after moonrise, he saw a schooner scudding along the Nantucket coast under full press of sail. He thought it was his quarry.

  ‘We were in the lee of the land at the time and she didn’t appear to see us; she was coming up fairly fast when suddenly the strangest accident befell her that ever I witnessed in all my life at sea.’

  ‘What happened?’ Dido and Nate asked in one breath.

  ‘Why, a thing that looked in the moonshine like a great pink whale came tearing along the coast, dragging behind it what seemed to be a rope. It cut clean across the schooner’s course and when this rope struck the Dark Diamond, such was the speed of the whale’s progress, if you will believe me, sir, that this rope sliced the schooner clean in two, and she sank in a matter of moments. It was an awesome sight, sir, it was indeed! Of course we searched the waters round about, but we were unable to find any survivors.’

  ‘Then the world is well rid of a pack of troublemakers,’ Doctor Mayhew observed cheerfully. ‘But won’t you join our celebration, sir, since your task is at an end? Come in and drink a toast to our young friends here, who succeeded in getting rid of this nest of cockatrices for us.’

  Captain Osbaldeston observed that he would be very pleased to hear the whole story leading up to the mysterious destruction of the Dark Diamond, so that he could include it in his report to the First Lord of the Admiralty. He came in and drank a great many glasses of ginger-jub while the tale was told.

  ‘So this young lady is a British citizen, is she?’ he inquired, looking at Dido when he had heard it all. ‘Do you wish to be repatriated, madam?’

  ‘To be whiched?’

  ‘Would you like a passage back to England, my dear?’

  Dido choked over a pickled tamarind. The temptation was almost irresistible. But she saw Pen’s imploring eyes fixed on her and summoned the resolution to say, gruffly:

  ‘That’s mighty civil of you, mister, and I thank you kindly, but I guess I’d better stick in Nantucket yet awhile. I made a promise I’d stay with a friend till they were fixed up right and tight, which they ain’t yet. So thanks, but not this time.’

  ‘In that case,’ Captain Osbaldeston said, ‘I’d best be on my way.’ And he bowed to the company and returned to his pinnace. Dido went out to watch it flit across the harbour, and to take several deep breaths and rub a slight mistiness away from her eyes. As she stood on the balcony, reluctant to go back to the gaiety of the banquet, she noticed the sails of another ship, a three-masted whaler, approaching Brant Point.

  ‘Sail-o!’ she called. ‘There’s a-plenty traffic today.’

  The new ship, which presently revealed itself as the Topsy Turvey, came to anchor at length against the South Wharf, and everybody ran out to gaze at her in curiosity, for she was not a Nantucket vessel. The moment she was berthed a stout lady who stood on deck had herself slung ashore in a barrel-chair and came bustling along the wharf in a state of great excitement.

  ‘Can anybody give me news of Captain Jabez Casket?’ she asked. ‘Is he ‘live or drownded? – Why, there he is, his own self! Jabez! Brother Jabez! I declare, I never thought to see you more. I’d heard you was swallowed up by a pink whale!’

  ‘Why, Sister Tribulation! I am amazed to see thee! Where has thee been?’

  ‘And there’s Mr Pardon! And my old friend Enoch Mayhew – ho, ho, do you remember when you pushed me in the creek, you wicked old fellow!’

  ‘Good gracious!’ whispered Pen in Dido’s ear. ‘Can she be Aunt Tribulation?’

  The stout lady was cheerfully, even fashionably dressed in pink-and-grey striped sarsenet, with flounces, and a pink satin parasol, and cherries on her bonnet. She had black curls and gay black eyes, and her face was round and rosy and soft, like a pink frosted cake. She smelt strongly of lavender.

  ‘Oh, don’t call me Tribulation please, Jabez, I have quite got out of that habit,’ she said laughing. ‘Sam always calls me Topsy. Only fancy! I am married, Jabez! This is my husband, Captain Sam Turvey. We got married all of a sudden last fall, and I went off to sea with him. That was why I wrote my second letter saying that I should not, after all, be able to take care of Penitence in Nantucket. But of course when I heard you had been swallowed by the whale –’

  ‘Second letter? But I had no second letter,’ he said, bewildered.

  ‘Did you not? I sent it to Galapagos with Captain Bilger; I made sure you’d have had it by now. But where is Pen, then? How have you managed?’

  She turned gaily round, exclaiming, ‘Now, which is my niece? Let me see if I can pick her out!’

  ‘Here I am, Aunt Tribulation,’ Pen said shyly.

  ‘Topsy, love, Topsy! Never call me Aunt Tribulation!’ cried Aunt Topsy, enveloping Pen in a warm hug. ‘Yes, and I can see your mother in every inch of you but how you’ve grown, bless you! I’d not have known you.’

  ‘I’d never have known you,’ Pen murmured.

  ‘No, that you wouldn’t,’ Dido muttered to herself, amazed at the difference between Pen’s five-year-old memory of her aunt and this cheerful, pink-cheeked, sweet-scented, bustling reality. Pen’s ma must have had some right silly ideas, she thought, to call her a dragon. Oh dear, why did this Auntie Trib have to go to sea? If only she’d stayed on shore, everything would have been all hunky-dory. Pen’s taken a fair fancy to her, anyone can see that with half an eye.

  It was true. Penitence was leaning happily in the circle of Aunt Topsy’s arm, her eyes shining like stars.

  ‘. . . so as I’ve decided that a life at sea doesn’t suit me,’ Aunt Topsy was saying, ‘I’m going to stay right here in Nantucket and build me a house out at ’Sconset, for Sam to come back to between trips. And you’ll keep me company there, won’t you, Penny, when your Papa’s at sea?’

  ‘Oh yes!’ Pen cried joyfully. ‘Oh yes, Aunt Topsy!’

  ‘Oh no!’ groaned Dido involuntarily. ‘Oh, why the blazes couldn’t you have sailed in an hour ago instead of now? Then I coulda been snug aboard the Thrush at this very minute, a-sailing back to London River.’

  ‘Oh, Dido!’ cried Pen remorsefully. ‘What a shame! But you can stay with me and Aunt Topsy till we find you another ship.’

  ‘It’s all right – never mind.’ But Dido bit her lip.

  Suddenly Captain Casket shook himself out of his sad reverie.

  ‘Nay!’ he exclaimed. ‘But we’ll up anchor with the Sarah Casket! A Nantucket whaler can soon overhaul that lumbering English craft. We’ll put thee aboard!’

  ‘Oh!’ cried Dido. ‘Could you?’

  Captain Casket was already rattling out orders: sails were shaken loose and the anchor was whisked up; half Nantucket town crowded on board to see Dido on her way.

  The Thrush had a considerable start but was still in view, and the Sarah Casket rapidly began to gain on her as they crossed the Gulf of Maine. Then it could be seen that the Thrush was hauling her wind and bringing to; soon they saw the reason for this. Out of the north-east, arrowing through the ocean in a shower of spray like a broad piece of sunrise-coloured ribbon, came something that could only be the pink whale herself.

  ‘It’s Rosie!’ Dido cried. ‘It’s Rosie come back to look for the cap’n!’

  ‘Come back to see you off,’ said Nate.

  ‘Come back to forgive us,’ said Pen softly.

  Rosie frolicked round the Sarah Casket like a flying-fish, and the blue-jackets on board the Thrush crowded the rail to gaze in astonishment at this phenomenon.

  Captain Casket hailed the Thrush.

  ‘Hey, there! Can you take a passenger? Miss Twite would like to sail to England after all.’

  ‘And welcome!’ the Thrush replied. The captain’s gig was sent across for Dido
. She hugged everybody on the Sarah Casket goodbye. Now that she was really leaving she found herself sad, but just the same she was happy – very, very happy – to be homeward bound at last.

  ‘Come back soon, dear Dido!’ said Pen. ‘Come and stay with me and Aunt Topsy next summer.’

  ‘Forvandel, blisschild,’ said Professor Breadno, who had accepted an invitation to stay with Doctor Mayhew and study snowy owls.

  ‘So long!’ said Nate.

  ‘You’ll always be welcome in Nantucket,’ said Doctor Mayhew. ‘You saved it from a fate, far, far worse than death.’

  ‘Thee is a good child,’ said Captain Casket.

  ‘Your ladyship’s carriage stops the way,’ said Mr Jenkins.

  Dido jumped down into the gig and was rowed across. When she reached the Thrush they piped her on board as if she had been the Queen herself, and the captain invited her to sit at his table. But she waited on deck, watching and waving until the Sarah Casket, escorted most joyfully by the pink whale, had started back to Nantucket and was out of sight.

  When Dido went back next year to visit Pen she found that Captain Casket had given up seafaring. Since the pink whale had returned, his only wish was to live on Nantucket and watch her every day as she sported and frolicked off its shores.

  And, as whales and sea-captains are both notoriously long-lived, it is possible that if you go to Nantucket today you may still have a sight of them.

  Dear whale of Nantucket, so pink and so round,

  The pride of our island, the pearl of the Sound,

  By Providence blest to our shores you were led,

  Long, long may you gambol off Sankaty Head!

  About the Author

  JOAN AIKEN comes from a family of writers; daughter of the American poet, Conrad Aiken, her sister Jane also writes novels.

  Joan Aiken has written over a hundred books for young readers and adults.

  Her best-known books are those in the James III saga of which the classic The Wolves of Willoughby Chase was the first title, published in 1962 and awarded the Lewis Carroll prize. Both that and Black Hearts in Battersea have been filmed. Her books are internationally acclaimed and she has received the Edgar Allan Poe Award in the United States as well as the Guardian Award for Fiction in this country for The Whispering Mountain. More recently she has been decorated with the MBE for her services to children’s books.

  She has children and grandchildren and lives in Sussex.

  Also by Joan Aiken:

  The Wolves of Willoughby Chase sequence:

  The Wolves of Willoughby Chase

  Black Hearts in Battersea

  Night Birds on Nantucket

  The Stolen Lake

  Limbo Lodge

  The Cuckoo Tree

  Dido and Pa

  Is

  Cold Shoulder Road

  Midwinter Nightingale

  The Witch of Clatteringshaws

  (in preparation)

  The Felix trilogy:

  Go Saddle the Sea

  Bridle the Wind

  The Teeth of the Gale

  The Whispering Mountain

  (winner of the Guardian Award 1969)

  Short Story Collections:

  A Handful of Gold

  Ghostly Beasts

  Young Fiction:

  The St. Boan Trilogy

  In Thunder’s Pocket

  The Song of Mat and Ben

  Bone and Dream

  NIGHT BIRDS ON NANTUCKET

  AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 409 02468 2

  Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,

  an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK

  A Random House Group Company

  This ebook edition published 2012

  Copyright © Joan Aiken 1966

  Illustrations copyright © Jonathan Cape 1966

  First Published in Great Britain

  Red Fox 9780099456643 1966

  The right of Joan Aiken to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  RANDOM HOUSE CHILDREN’S PUBLISHERS UK

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  Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be found at:

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  THE RANDOM HOUSE GROUP Limited Reg. No. 954009

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

 


 

  Joan Aiken, Night Birds On Nantucket

 


 

 
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