Free The Underground City by Anne Forbes

“You see, we … we aren’t alone down here in the Underground City. There are places where
we
don’t go … where …
other
ghosts live.”
    “The ghosts of the Plague People,” Mr Rafferty burst out nervously. “They were sealed in their cellars hundreds of years ago but they’ve always been desperate to escape. They long to be free again,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling, “to roam in the open air! To infect people! To give them the Black Death!”
    Clara sat, round-eyed and horrified on her carpet while Neil swallowed hard and turned the colour of chalk. “The plague?” he breathed fearfully.
    Mary King nodded. “They carry the plague with them and the two men, Murdo and Wullie, are very close to their cellars, Neil. They might break into them by mistake. You must tell them the danger they’re in for, if the Plague People get out,
they
will be their first victims!”
    “Of course I’ll tell them,” Neil said immediately. “Right now, if you like!”
    Mary King shook her head. “They’re not there just now,” she said. “Murdo and Wullie only ever come at night.”
    Neil looked troubled. “I can’t come at night,” he said slowly. “I just can’t! If I’m out, I have to be home by seven at the latest. I know I could get in here before they lock up but, if I did, I wouldn’t be able to get out again until they opened the doors in the morning! My parents …” Neil tailed off, shuddering at the thought of what his mother and father would say.
    “The men get in and out through the cellars of Deacon Brodie’s Tavern” the old Codger offered, passing a hand over his grizzled chin, thoughtfully. “Couldn’t you get in and out the same way?”
    Neil grinned weakly as he shook his head. “They’d never let me into Deacon Brodie’s Tavern,” he said. “I’m not nearly old enough. No, we’ll have to think of something else!”

10. Tracksuit and Trainers
    “Have you ever been jogging, Lewis?” Casimir asked one morning.
    Lewis looked at him suspiciously. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that Casimir’s words always had a purpose of some sort behind them. Jogging, however, seemed a fairly safe subject so he answered truthfully. “Yes, of course I have,” he replied. “Why do you ask?”
    “I thought we might go jogging this morning, that’s all,” was the reply.
    “In this weather!” exclaimed Lewis, looking out of the window . The snow had melted away but it was still quite a blustery day and the trees in the gardens opposite were blowing in the wind.
    “Come on, Lewis,” cajoled Casimir. “The exercise will do you good!”
    “Yeah, I suppose …” Lewis said reluctantly. He might as well go jogging, he thought, for he had nothing much else to do. He wasn’t due to start at his new school until Monday morning and life had been a bit dull since the magic carpet episode.
    He frowned slightly as he looked back on it, for no one had made a fuss about his late return. Maybe old Casimir had had something to do with that, he thought. But, certainly, his parents and starchy, old Mrs Sinclair just hadn’t seemed to have missed him. When he’d gone down to the kitchen to make some hot toast, absolutely frozen after the journey back, they’d said goodnight to him as though he’d been in his room all evening!
    Nor, which was more to the point, had they noticed the painting of the
Mona Lisa
either, although he’d hung it above the mantelpiece in the library rather than in his room. Bit of a waste of a wish that had been, he thought resentfully. He’d been looking through some of the books in the library and come across one that had really taken his fancy. It was full of pictures of fabulous jewels, gold statues, Persian carpets and famous paintings — including the
Mona Lisa
. Knowing that it was the most famous painting in the world, he’d made it his wish for the day and been absolutely gutted when Casimir had produced it. He’d have sent it back the next day