A Dusk of Demons by John Christopher Page A

Demons’ laws allowed. We were directly under the roof, and the roof was an overhang.
    Gazing at the harbor, Joe said, “The soldiers let us through. The lot who picked us up must be the police. But how did they come to be looking out for us? That’s the funny part.”
    Soldiers and police were mainland words. I was beginning to realize how different things might be here.
    Joe went on, “One thing: It’s the soldiers that have guns. The others don’t, far as I can see. If he comes back on his own, I reckon I can handle him. It’s worth a try. When I do, you two get going quick.”
    â€œWe’ll tackle him with you,” Paddy said.
    â€œYou’d only get in the way. Do as I say.”
    Paddy caught my eye behind his back, and I nodded agreement. But even if we overpowered the policeman without him managing to call for help, we still had to get clear of the building. I’d seen three or four policemen downstairs as we were brought in, but there were probably more. We would really be in trouble then.
    Time dragged again. The window faced south, and a sun was slowly sinking against a screen of unbroken blue. The room was airless and stuffy. Occasionally we heard footsteps, but they did not stop.
    Finally some did. A key turned, and the door started to open.
    â€œLet him get inside,” Joe whispered. “And leave it to me!”
    The policeman in the peaked cap appeared, to my surprise with a smile of a sort on his face. But that was nothing to my surprise at seeing the person who followed him. I ran toward Mother Ryan, but Paddy got there first.
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    The following morning Paddy and I sat under an oak tree at the top of a sloping meadow. Below us, a long way off, a narrow band of blue marked the sea. Higher up, surrounded by ornamental gardens on several levels, stood the villa of General Pengelly.
    It was very big, with four wings branching out from a central courtyard where water gushed from the mouth of a huge bronze fish into a marble pool that swarmed with real fish, crimson and black and yellow.The air thereabouts was full of song from birds in painted wicker cages, suspended from poles set among large red pots filled with glossy green plants.
    In the room I had been given, the walls and even the bed were decorated with flowers. There were bright rugs on the floor, and a marble-topped washstand to which a serving girl had brought me a pitcher of hot water for washing. There were servants everywhere inside the house, and at least half a dozen men looking after the gardens.
    Dinner had offered another taste of luxury. The most prominent item was a vast salmon on a long silver dish, but there had also been joints of beef, ham, pork, and venison, and a selection of side dishes offering treats I had never seen before. There had been a tempting array of puddings too; I sampled three before reaching saturation point.
    I said to Paddy, “It’s a bit different from what we expected.”
    â€œWhat did you expect?”
    â€œWell, nothing like this. Did you?”
    After a pause, Paddy said, “I’d like to know why.”
    â€œWhy what?”
    â€œWhy bring us here?”
    â€œBecause Mother asked, of course, after the police made their report to the General.”
    â€œBut why were she and Antonia here, in the first place?”
    â€œPerhaps he was sorry for them being sent away from the Isles. They seem nice people.”
    â€œYou didn’t think so yesterday.”
    â€œThat was a mistake. They didn’t know who we were.”
    â€œI asked Ralph about the soldiers: Would they still get into trouble for letting us through? And what would happen to them?”
    â€œWhat did he say?”
    â€œHe said he didn’t know. And he made a joke about the soldiers needing glasses if they couldn’t spot an islander. He wanted to change the subject.”
    â€œI like Ralph,” I said.
    He was about