Free The Terror Time Spies by David Clement-Davies Page B

keep warm, won’t you now, dears, and hurry poor Francis back again?  We think you are very brave, Henry Bonespair, going to France like this.”
    The aunt looked as uncertain as Constance had but Francis was frowing at the fact is aunt had described him as ‘poor’.
    “Yes, maam,” said the leader of the Pimpernels, “Holmwood here will bring him back straight again, won’t you Holmwood, Man?”
    Skipper nodded again, and gave a manly grunt too, trying not to show his blushing face.
    “ Havagal,” whispered Francis though, looking admiringly at the carriage, especially the clever luggage webbing beneath it, if not the horses.  He had just decided to study it, scientifically.  “ Wavagots gavago…”
    “Er, lots to tell, F,” said Henry sharply, glaring at his friend to silence him.  “But we must get going now, F.  We’ll miss our boat.”
    Francis’s aunt pecked her nephew on the cheek and, shaking her head, turned back inside, but when Francis Simpkins climbed into the coach he was very surprised to see not little Eleanor, or Mr Bonespair either, but a young French Count sitting there, in such very fine, clean cloths, looking as if he wanted to make the carriage fly. 
    Francis Simpkins had seen Armande first when he had stopped in Peckham on the way to his aunt’s, but this was a shock, all right.
    “Oh.  Hello,” he whispered awkwardly, as he sat down.
    Armande St Honoré dipped his head rather warily at the fourteen year old newcomer but, as they rattled away again, in no time at all Henry had explained just what was really going on.    
    Francis Simpkins went green, as Hal finished speaking.
    “Rescue her from Frenchie spies?” he gulped.
    “Yes, F.  Isn’t it amazing?”
    “But a new Club?” said Francis, as doubtfully as Spike had, wrinkling up his freckly nose and wondering if this Skipper driving their carriage would lose control and crash.  “But what’s wrong with the Rat…”
    “A new club, loyal to the last,” interrupted Henry, pulling out the Sacred Time Piece. “With me the leader.”
    “The leader for now,” said Armande suddenly and Henry glared.
    “And sworn on this,” he added quickly. 
    Francis was deeply uncertain but the sight of the chronometer had an instant effect on the owlish newcomer though, because Francis Simpkins’ huge eyes bulged in delight. 
    “Blimey, Hal, but it’s wonderful.”
    “I know.  Mr Wickham gave it to me, Francis, for my birthday yesterday.  So it’s our new Rats Tail, if you like.  It was made by Isaac Harrison himself, F, the Cousin of…”
    “John Harrison,” said the swotish boy, with an eager nod, completely forgetting to be frightened now, “Who invented the famous Marine Chronometer, and so solved the problem of Longitude at Sea, to help England Master the waves.  It must be good, if his Cousin made it.” 
    “Yes, I suppose so.”
    Count Armande looked a little sour, not to say jealous, but Hal was nodding and had just decided to appoint Francis Simpkins special science expert of their brand new Club.
    “Can I look inside though, Hal?” asked Francis, “I so love clocks.  Especially a Harrison Time Piece.”
    “Doesn’t seem to open, F,” answered Henry, with a shrug, “but you’re in aren’t you?  The Club.  You’ll take the oath, I mean?  Help us kidnap Juliette back again.”
    Francis Simpkins frowned now, wondering if his Quaker parents would ever approve such a mad thing, but he was certainly a very dedicated Rat Catcher.  He was a very measured, thoughtful boy, who usually took his time deciding things, but once he had, it took heaven and earth to change his mind again.  It was another reason Henry liked him, because it made him so reliable.
    “Yes.  I think so.  Yes.  I will.”
    Henry held out the Time Piece and Francis put his hand on it, as Hal began to mouthe the great words that he had used in the barn.  “ I swear on the Sacred Time piece, and my life, to dedicate myself to