Here Be Monsters!
“Too right!” And off the party set. Within moments all that was left in the tunnel were a few uneaten cabbage sandwiches lying on the floor.
Willbury paused, then pulled the knob.
chapter 18
THE CHEESE HALL
A pair of eyes peered out.
The door of the Cheese Hall was made from very solid-looking oak. Large iron studs were fixed at regular intervals across its surface, and at head height was a metal grille that covered a small hatch. Willbury approached it nervously.
It’s certainly not very welcoming, he thought. To one side of the door frame was a metal knob shaped like a cheese. Beneath it a dirty brass plaque read PULL. Willbury paused, then pulled the knob. The sound of a cheese bleat instantly rang out. Willbury raised an eyebrow. Of all the knockers and bells he had knocked, pulled, or pushed, this was certainly the strangest. Then he heard steps, the hatch flew open, and a pair of eyes peered out.
“Yes!” snapped a voice. “What d’yer want?”
“I . . . er . . . would like to talk to someone . . . ,” replied Willbury.
“You buying or selling?” The voice sounded very annoyed.
Willbury thought this over. “I am not really buying . . . or selling.”
“Well, you ain’t no interest to us then. Now naff off!” The hatch snapped shut.
Willbury stood for a moment, perplexed, then he looked back toward the pub where the others were hiding. Most of the crew’s faces were pressed hard against the window. He waved at them to get them to hide properly, and they reluctantly ducked down.
Most of the crew’s faces were pressed hard against the window.
He pulled the knob again. The bleating started but was cut short by the sound of a thump, then the hatch swung open again.
“What d’yer want now?” snapped the voice.
“Would it be possible to talk to someone about cheese?” Willbury asked.
“No! Cheese is our business, and information about cheese is confidential. I told you to naff off, so go on. Take a walk!” The hatch slammed shut.
Willbury was left standing in the rain, staring at the door. He was not quite sure what to do. He had not expected a warm welcome, but nor had he expected this total failure. He looked up at the building. Wooden boards were nailed over most of the windows, but through gaps in the planks several pairs of eyes were staring at him.
Through gaps in the planks several pairs of eyes were staring at him.
“I am being watched,” he muttered. Willbury turned and nonchalantly strolled across the street and into the Nag’s Head.
As soon as he walked through the door he was surrounded.
“What’d they say then?” asked the captain.
“Not a lot!” said Willbury.
“Did you ask if they had our friends?” asked Kipper.
“I didn’t really get around to that. They were not very chatty,” Willbury admitted. “I wonder what our next step is?”
“Storm them with grappling hooks!” said Bert enthusiastically.
“We ain’t got no grappling hooks, and anyway, it looks a pretty tough building to storm,” Tom said logically.
“Well, we could go back to the ship and get the cannon?” Kipper suggested.
“I don’t think the police are going to put up with members of the local laundry letting off cannons in the street,” advised Willbury.
“I don’t think the police are going to put up with members of the local laundry letting off cannons in the street.”
“Yeah. And we ain’t got no gunpowder,” said Jim regretfully.
“Maybe there is another way in,” suggested Arthur, peeping out the window at the Cheese Hall.
“The mice said there’s another route, but it’s up by the roof,” said Bert. “If you look right up there, you can see a pair of doors with a crane that sticks out just above them. It’s like one of them Dutch doors they use for lifting pianos into attics and the like. But I don’t think there’s a way to get up there.”
Arthur thought longingly of his wings. If only . . .
One of the other rats raised his hand. “ ’Scuse me, but ain’t they got a sewer?”
“If you look right up there, you can see a pair of doors.”
“The mice say the Cheese Hall has got its own cesspit and well. They’re not connected to the main systems. The place is like a fortress!” Bert exclaimed.
“Well, how are we going to find out whether they got our mates then?” asked Tom.
“How about we kidnap one of them and torture ‘im!” said Jim.
“Yeah!” agreed Bert.
“I don’t think that’s quite the right thing to do,” said Willbury. “I think we have no choice but to watch the place and see what happens. An opportunity may present itself.”
“Does that mean we all get to stay in the pub?” said Kipper hopefully. Tom shot him a disapproving look.
“We just need someone to keep an eye on the entrance. How about we rent a room and set up watch?” said Arthur.
“Sounds like a good idea to me,” said Willbury.
“And cheaper than keeping the whole crew in the pub,” added the captain.
“We can use the crows to keep in touch,” said Tom.
There was a fluttering and Mildred made her way to the front.
There was a fluttering and Mildred made her way to the front.
“I would like to volunteer to act as messenger,” she said. “Thank you,” said Willbury. “And who would like to take first watch?”
“I will,” said Arthur immediately.
“I don’t think so,” Willbury told him.
“It’s not going to be dangerous just looking out of a window,” pleaded Arthur. “And besides, it was my idea. I know I can do this, Willbury; please let me.”
“All right then, but you are only to watch. And only if someone else stays here with you,” said Willbury.
Kipper broke in. “Let me and Tom look after Arthur! We won’t let him get into trouble.”
“All right. But if anything happens, you are just to send a message back to the Laundry,” insisted Willbury. “I need to check that the little creatures are all right.”
“Me too,” said Marjorie. “The poor little things seemed so frightened . . . .”
Willbury walked over to the bar.
“Excuse me, do you have a room I can rent?” Willbury asked.
“I am afraid we only have a small one in the attic left, as it is market day,” answered the landlady.
“Does it have a window on the street?” asked Willbury.
“It does. Who’s it for?” she asked.
Willbury pointed out Arthur, Tom, Kipper, and Mildred. The landlady looked uncertain. “The crow will have to perch on the curtain rail, and it will be extra if boots are worn in bed.”
“Certainly,” said Willbury, and he handed her several bills.
And as the landlady showed Arthur, Tom, Kipper, and Mildred to the room, Willbury, Marjorie, and the rest of the crew returned to the Nautical Laundry.
The landlady.
The Nag’s Head.
chapter 19
AN INCIDENT OUTSIDE THE NAG’S HEAD
The sign of the Nag’s Head.
Arthur, Tom, Kipper, and Mildred returned downstairs to the bar and ordered some food. Then they settled at a window table. The rain fell, and slowly it grew dark outside.
By ten o’clock they retired to the attic, having finished fourteen games of Old Maid, twenty-seven games of dominoes, and building a large castle from the crusts of toasted sandwiches.
A large castle from the crusts of toasted sandwiches.
“Shall I light a candle?” asked Arthur.
“No,” said Tom. “Best not to. But why don’t you open the window. That way we will be able to hear if anything is happening, and we’ll be able to put our feet up.”
Arthur opened the window and looked down. The streets were empty. Tom and Kipper took one of the two single beds and lay d
own. Mildred perched on the curtain pole and went to sleep. Arthur stood by the window watching. Soon all he could hear was the rain and Kipper snoring.
Mildred perched on the curtain pole and went to sleep.
Arthur took out his doll and quietly wound it up.
When it was ready, Arthur whispered, “Grandfather. It’s Arthur! Are you still awake?”
A sleepy voice broke through the gentle crackling. “Yes, Arthur.”
“How are you?” Arthur asked.
“I could be better,” came the reply. “It seems to be getting very damp down here. It’s playing havoc with my rheumatism. The boxtrolls don’t seem to be keeping up with the maintenance. But maybe I am just getting old and grumpy.”
“You stay in bed and keep warm.”
“What about you, Arthur? What’s happening up there?” Grandfather asked.
Arthur told him everything that had happened. When he finished, his grandfather remained silent.
“Grandfather . . . Grandfather . . . are you still there?” Arthur called.
When his grandfather finally spoke, there was not a trace of sleepiness in his voice. “Listen to me, Arthur. You are not to do anything rash. That is an order! I don’t want you to do anything but watch. Mr. Archibald Snatcher is a very dangerous man!”
“You know him?” Arthur asked, surprised.
“Oh yes . . . I know him.” Grandfather sounded angry. “And he is the reason we live down here!”
“What!” Arthur was shocked.
“Trust me, Arthur. Stay well away from that man.”
“But what did he—” Arthur broke off, hearing noise from the street below. “Sorry, Grandfather . . . but something is happening.” Arthur peered out the window. Below, in the street, a shaft of light fell from the open door of the Cheese Hall. Slowly a procession of horses and riders were making their way out into the street. It was the hunt.
“I’ve got to go, Grandfather.”
“Arthur! Arthur! Be careful!” Grandfather called.
“I will be. Don’t worry. I’ll talk to you later.”
The doll fell silent, and Arthur tucked it under his suit. Then he shook Kipper and Tom awake.
“Quick! It’s the cheese hunt. They’re coming out of the hall!” he whispered.
Kipper and Arthur ran to the window.
“It’s them I had the run-in with,” said Arthur. “But I can’t see Snatcher!”
Tom scrabbled up onto the windowsill and looked out. There was a yapping and howling as the hounds appeared. A mild panic broke out among the “horses” as they did their best to avoid the hounds.
Kipper, Arthur, and Tom at the attic window.
“Should we send a message to the Laundry?” asked Arthur.
“Let’s wait a few minutes to see what happens,” said Tom. “Then we might be able to send more useful information.”
Just then, a large figure appeared from the doorway of the Cheese Hall, and the noise in the street subsided. It was Snatcher.
A large figure appeared from the doorway of the Cheese Hall.
A riderless horse walked forward, and one of the members crouched down to form a step for his leader. Snatcher closed the door, stood on the “step,” and climbed onto his mount. The hunt crowded around Snatcher, who started talking to his men. Try as they might, Arthur, Tom, and Kipper could not make out what he was telling them.
Snatcher closed the door, stood on the “step,” and climbed onto his mount.
“Quick, let’s get downstairs and see what Snatcher’s saying,” said Tom. “Kipper, wake up Mildred.”
Kipper reached up and poked the crow. There was a fluttering, and Mildred settled on his shoulder.
Arthur led the way down into the front parlor of the pub. When they reached the front door, he lifted the latch very slowly and opened the door a few inches, careful not to make a sound. They could hear Snatcher addressing the group.
“The Great One is growing ever greater, and his needs must be met. We must get all the cheese we can tonight. I don’t want any slacking. Anybody I catch not pulling his weight may find themselves in ‘reduced circumstances.’ Get my drift?” Snatcher’s oily voice floated over the crowd.
“How much longer are we going to have to go hunting for the Great One?” came a voice.
“The time is very near! Soon we will free the Great One, and revenge will be ours!”
Evil chuckling filled the street. A shiver ran down Arthur’s spine. What were these men plotting? Then Snatcher raised a hand.
“Quiet, my boys!” said Snatcher, and the hunt calmed down. “ ’Tis time to wend our way.”
He kicked his horse and led off down the street. The hunt followed.
The hunt making off down the street.
Arthur, Tom, Kipper, and Mildred slipped out of the Nag’s Head. There was a quiet flapping as Mildred set off back to the ship to tell about the hunt. Under the cover of the shadows, the others began to follow the hunt down the street. Suddenly there was a shout.
“Hunt! Whoa! I’ve forgot me Hornswoggle!” It was Snatcher.
“Quick!” Tom said, looking about. “Hide.” Kipper pointed toward an alley behind them. They ran madly for it.
Within moments they could hear a “horse” coming up the street. Arthur sneaked a look. Snatcher dismounted and headed for the door of the Cheese Hall. He unlocked it and went inside.
“Tom!” Arthur whispered excitedly. “Can you distract the horse? I am going to see if I can get inside the Cheese Hall.”
Tom hesitated. “It’s too dangerous, Arthur!”
Arthur sneaked a look.
“I know. But it may be our only chance to get our friends back,” Arthur said beseechingly.
“We’ll come with you,” said Kipper, looking worried.
“No, I stand a better chance of sneaking past Snatcher on my own,” replied Arthur.
Tom and Kipper looked at each other for a moment, then Tom nodded. He scuttled silently toward the horse and made a very convincing bark. The horse started, then Tom jumped as high as he could and bit one of the “legs.”
Tom jumped as high as he could and bit one of the “legs.”
“AAAAAAAH! Blinkin’ hound!” the horse shouted, and it made off down the street.
Tom waved to Arthur, who took a last glance up at Kipper.
“Good luck, Arthur,” Kipper whispered. “And don’t worry—I’m sure Tom will think of a way for us to help you.” Arthur smiled gratefully, then ran to the open door of the Cheese Hall. He looked down the passage. There was no one in sight.
He ran straight through the door just as Snatcher was turning into the passage. Looking around desperately, Arthur spied a very large grandfather clock. He opened its case, jumped inside, and pulled the door closed. As he pushed against the pendulum and chains, the clock made a loud clang. Snatcher stopped in front of it.
“That’s odd. It ain’t been working for years.” He gave the clock a blow with his Hornswoggle, made his way through the front door, and slammed it shut.
A very large grandfather clock.
The entrance hall.
chapter 20
INSIDE THE CHEESE HALL
He looked about.
In the passage all was quiet. Then the clock started striking, and as it did, there was also a fair bit of muffled squeaking. The chimes died away and the case slowly opened. A very startled Arthur stepped out. He shook his head and blinked for a moment, then began creeping to the end of the passage. Through an archway was a large entrance hall.
Arthur listened. All was silent; the place seemed deserted. It seemed all the members had gone out hunting, and he would have the Cheese Hall to himself for a while. But perhaps some of them had stayed behind—he’d have to be as careful as he knew how.
He looked about. There was a large marble staircase, several doors, and high up on the walls ran a painted frieze. He studied the frieze in silence. It depicted the cheeses of the world—English cheese frolicked in the fields, c
ave-bound French cheeses huddled in green and blue mounds, Swiss cheese rolled down mountainsides, Norwegian cheeses leaped from cliffs into fjords, and some Welsh cheeses huddled under a bush in the rain. There were a number of other scenes, but Arthur couldn’t work out what countries and cheeses they depicted. He wondered particularly about some small tins being carried by an elephant.
Some small tins being carried by an elephant.
Above the frieze were statues set in alcoves. These he took to be heroes of the cheese world. Most of them looked very miserable, apart from one who was clutching a flaming cheese aloft. This statue had a mad grin on its face. Arthur walked over to the sign below this statue and read:
MALCOLM OF BARNSLEY
1618–1649
“HE LIVES WHO HAS SEEN CHEESE COMBUST BY ITS OWN WILL.”
DONATED BY THE
LACTOSE PARANORMAL RESEARCH COUNCIL
Arthur wondered what this meant. Then he noticed that the doors all had small plaques fixed to them. The plaque over the closest door read:
THE MEMBERS’ TEA AND CAKE ROOM
LADIES’ NIGHT—FEBRUARY 29TH 5:30-6:00 P.M.
NONMEMBERS KEEP OUT!
Malcolm of Barnsley.
The rooms were labeled, Arthur thought curiously. He ran to the next door and read—
THE CHAIRMAN’S SUITE
ENTRANCE BY INVITATION ONLY
At the third . . .
LABORATORY
And at the last . . .
KEEP OUT!
I wonder? Arthur thought, and he reached for the handle. The door creaked open to reveal a long torch-lit passageway. Arthur listened carefully, but all he could hear was a soft bubbling sound from farther down the passage. He listened for another moment, and then his curiosity got the better of him. He crept quietly toward the sound.