Free Black Hearts in Battersea by Joan Aiken Page B

cribbage with me?" asked Dido instantly.
    "All right—only jump in quickly."
    She retired through the doorway to a very untidy groundfloor bedchamber evidently shared by the two sisters, for, as well as Dido's meager collection of playthings, it contained curling tongs, copies of the
Ladies' Magazine,
and a great quantity of frilly garments strewn about in a state of disrepair, which plainly belonged to Penelope.
    "Now you sit
there,
" ordered Dido, jumping into a skimpy disheveled bed and patting the coverlet. "Here's the cribbage board. Shall we play for money?"
    "No, we certainly shall not," said Simon reprovingly. "Besides, I don't for one moment suppose that you have any."
    "No, I haven't a tosser to my kick," Dido said, bursting out laughing. "What a hum it would have been if you'd won! Come on—you can start."
    They played for an hour, Dido winning all the time, largely because she was prepared to cheat in the most unabashed manner. Then she began to get restless and peevish, and suggested they change over to loo. Simon, who thought she ought to get some rest, proposed that he should straighten her covers and leave her to try and go to
sleep, but she raised vehement objections.

    "I don't
want
to go to sleep! I don't
want
to be left alone! There's too many people come into this house at night, walking about and bumping on the stairs."
    "I don't believe there's a soul except us," said Simon. "You're not scared of ghosts, are you?"
    "I ain't afeared of
anything,
" said Dido with spirit. "I jist don't like people walking about on the stairs and bumping. They clanks, too, sometimes."
    "Shall I get you something to eat or drink?" Simon suggested.
    Dido thought she would like a drink of hot milk. "Ma said she'd leave a mug of milk in the kitchen, but I'd sooner you hotted it. My throat feels like someone's been at it with sandpaper." She gave him a pitiful grin, looking more than ever like a small, molting sparrow.
    Simon found the Twites' kitchen, a huge gloomy room in the basement. The mug of milk was on the table, but it took some hunting to discover a clean saucepan. The fire in the range was very low and the coal scuttle empty; he returned to Dido and asked where the coal was kept.
    "In the cellar. Door's back o' the pantry. Mind how you go down the steps, they're steep," she croaked. "Ma won't let me go down there."
    There were some half-used candles on the kitchen dresser. Simon lit one, took the hod, and went down the steep, narrow cellar stairs. There was another door at the foot, which was locked, but the key was in the lock. He opened this and cautiously entered the darkness beyond,
holding his candle high. His foot struck against something metallic which clinked on the stone floor. He lowered the candle and was astonished to see a musket—and another—dozens of them, neatly stacked. And beyond the muskets were barrels of a greyish substance which Simon, by feel and sniff, holding the candle at a safe distance, identified as gunpowder. The room was a regular arsenal!

    He found a heap of coal in one corner. Thoughtfully he filled his hod and returned to the kitchen, locking the cellar door behind him again. While he mended the fire and waited for the milk to heat he pondered over this discovery. No wonder Dido heard people bumping and clanking on the stairs! No doubt about it, the Twites must be Hanoverian plotters, bent on removing good King James from the throne, and bringing in the young pretender, Bonnie Prince Georgie from over the water.
    The milk came to the boil and, remembering Mrs. Cobb's Special, he shook in some aniseed and took the mug to Dido. She sipped the hot drink gratefully while he beat up her pillows and straightened the blankets with clumsy good will.
    "Now you must try to sleep," he ordered when the mug was empty.
    "You've got to stay with me till I go off," she countered. She looked hot-cheeked and heavy-eyed, ready to fall asleep at any moment.
    "Very well," said Simon. "I'll blow out