The Picts & the Martyrs. Arthur Ransome

XIX “We’ve Never Been Burglars Before” XX Police! XXI As Others See Us XXII Plans and Change of Plans XXIII The Great Aunt Goes to See for Herself XXIV Care-free Holiday XXV Totally Disappeared XXVI The Hunt Is Up XXVII The One Thing That Mustn’t Happen XXVIII Three in a Boat XXIX Great Aunt Maria Faces Her Pursuers XXX Reward of Virtue

      ILLUSTRATIONS

       The Picts at Home

       “Not What I Call Homely”

       A Great Improvement to the House

       “It Hasn’t Tumbled Down Yet”

       Moving House

       Map

       Wet Work in the Lagoon

       Not Looking at All Like Going

       Lookout Post on the Ridge

       Feeling for a Trout

       Scarab

       How Not to Lower Sail

       Wet and Piebald in the Doorway

       Getting In

       Work in the Houseboat

       Their Own Mine

       At the Beckfoot Gate

       They Were Startled by a Splash

       “It Acts as an Extra Sail”

       The Great Aunt Steps Ashore

       To

      AUNT HELEN

      C.F.C.A.

      PLUS 100. AI

      (These letters mean Certificated First Class Aunt. There are Aunts of all kinds, and all the good ones should be given certificates by their nephews and nieces to distinguish them from Uncertificated Aunts, like Nancy’s and Peggy’s G.A.)

      “NOT WHAT I CALL HOMELY”

CHAPTER I

      VISITORS EXPECTED

      “It’s not what I call homely,” said the old Cook, standing in the doorway of the spare bedroom at Beckfoot and looking at an enormous skull and crossbones done in black and white paint on two huge sheets of paper and fixed with drawing pins on the wall above the head of the bed.

      “Dot’ll think it’s just right,” said Nancy, who was kneeling on the pillows putting a last touch to one of the bones.

      “A death’s head like that to watch her go to sleep. And she won’t like that yellow and black thing either,” said Cook, looking at the two flags on little flagstaffs fixed at the foot of the bed. “Isn’t that what you had out of the window when your face was swollen up with the mumps?”

      “It’s the L flag,” said Nancy, leaning back to get a good look at her work. “It does mean leprosy and plague and things like that, but it’s the only one we’ve got handy that’s the right size. She won’t mind.”

      “And that insect. It’s enough to make her think the bed’s alive. I don’t know where you’ve seen such things. Not in the house anyway…”

      “It’s a scarab,” said Nancy.

      “More like a bug,” said Cook.

      “Well, it is a bug really, a sort of bug … It’s a beetle thousands of years old. A sacred beetle. Egyptian. It’s the flag for their new boat.”

      “I don’t know what your mother’ll say when she comes back and sees it. And your uncle’s room with a death’s head, too. Nice way to welcome visitors, it seems to me.”

      “It all depends on the visitors,” said Nancy, scrambling off the bed and joining Cook in the doorway to get a better view. “Yes. I think we’ll have another skull and crossbones at the foot of the bed. It looks a bit tame without. Hi! Peggy! More paper. I’m going to