wondered Tatler, could the Chief Constable of Edinburgh, an astute and intelligent man, not realize the freakishness that was being perpetrated under his very nose?
But who or what lay behind this sudden passion for all things Scottish? And it was a passion, of that he had no doubt. A very strong passion. The passengers on the train had convinced him of it. They positively revelled in their tartan clothes, ate haggis with gusto and tapped their feet enthusiastically to the swirl of the bagpipes . It wasn’t put on. They were genuine, through and through.
He pursed his lips and frowned; for what really worried him was the fact that he couldn’t, for the life of him, understand why!
9. Turkish Delight
“Thank goodness Arthur remembers the way,” muttered Hamish, holding a torch aloft as he led a small group of MacArthurs along a narrow, dusty passage, deep under Arthur’s Seat. “I haven’t been down here in ages.”
“Me neither,” answered Jaikie, panting slightly. “For goodness sake, give Archie a shout and get him to slow Arthur down a bit. He’s galloping along at a rate of knots! I can’t keep up and that carrier-thing we’ve rigged up for the mirrors, is going to start banging off the side of the tunnel if he goes any faster.”
Archie, perched on Arthur’s back, ducked his head as the light of his torch gleamed on the uneven roof of the tunnel. Hearing Hamish’s shout, he twisted round and glanced in concern at the ropes that harnessed a flat, trolley-like affair to Arthur’s massive bulk. “Slow down, Arthur,” he said worriedly . “You’re going too fast! We don’t want the ropes to get tangled.”
Although Arthur obediently slowed down, the worst was over as the tunnel widened suddenly to reveal a huge, roundish hall. Set into its rocky walls were a series of large, arched doors.
“I remember this cave,” Archie said excitedly, slipping off Arthur’s back and sticking his blazing torch in one of the wall sconces. The MacArthurs crowded in round the dragon who led them to a door on the far side of the cavern.
Two burly MacArthurs pulled the door open and there was an awed silence as they walked in and looked at the shrouded bulk of the magic mirrors stacked against the walls of the store room.
“Take the covers off and let’s see them,” instructed Hamish, pulling a length of dusty cloth from one of the mirrors. As thestrips of sheeting slid to the ground, the magic mirrors were revealed in all their glory, endlessly reflecting both them and the flames of their burning torches. The mirrors were huge — at least seven feet tall, Jaikie reckoned, gazing up at them in wonder. Their glass had a strange, sparkling sheen to it but the dull, iron frames, decorated with carvings of flowers, birds and animals, were oppressive as well as imposing.
Archie shivered slightly and looked at Jaikie and the others. Although they all knew that the mirrors were locked, they nevertheless had an aura of their own that proclaimed them powerful objects of magic. If one of them were to ripple, Archie thought, no one knew who or what might step through … or from where …
Hamish, obviously thinking along the same lines, gestured to the piles of sheeting. “Cover them up again,” he instructed shivering slightly, “and let’s get them loaded onto Arthur’s trolley . And don’t, whatever you do, touch any of the carvings or you might switch one on by accident!”
It took at least six MacArthurs to load each one and they were all panting as the last mirror, looped with ropes, was hauled up to the top of the pile.
“Can you pull all this weight, Arthur?” Archie asked anxiously . “They must weigh a ton!”
Arthur looked down his nose at Archie and blew a puff of smoke. “Do me favour, Archie,” he said dryly, “I
am
a dragon, remember!”
The pace of the return journey was, nevertheless, a lot slower and, as they followed the trolley, Archie’s heart sank as his mind raced over the
But who or what lay behind this sudden passion for all things Scottish? And it was a passion, of that he had no doubt. A very strong passion. The passengers on the train had convinced him of it. They positively revelled in their tartan clothes, ate haggis with gusto and tapped their feet enthusiastically to the swirl of the bagpipes . It wasn’t put on. They were genuine, through and through.
He pursed his lips and frowned; for what really worried him was the fact that he couldn’t, for the life of him, understand why!
9. Turkish Delight
“Thank goodness Arthur remembers the way,” muttered Hamish, holding a torch aloft as he led a small group of MacArthurs along a narrow, dusty passage, deep under Arthur’s Seat. “I haven’t been down here in ages.”
“Me neither,” answered Jaikie, panting slightly. “For goodness sake, give Archie a shout and get him to slow Arthur down a bit. He’s galloping along at a rate of knots! I can’t keep up and that carrier-thing we’ve rigged up for the mirrors, is going to start banging off the side of the tunnel if he goes any faster.”
Archie, perched on Arthur’s back, ducked his head as the light of his torch gleamed on the uneven roof of the tunnel. Hearing Hamish’s shout, he twisted round and glanced in concern at the ropes that harnessed a flat, trolley-like affair to Arthur’s massive bulk. “Slow down, Arthur,” he said worriedly . “You’re going too fast! We don’t want the ropes to get tangled.”
Although Arthur obediently slowed down, the worst was over as the tunnel widened suddenly to reveal a huge, roundish hall. Set into its rocky walls were a series of large, arched doors.
“I remember this cave,” Archie said excitedly, slipping off Arthur’s back and sticking his blazing torch in one of the wall sconces. The MacArthurs crowded in round the dragon who led them to a door on the far side of the cavern.
Two burly MacArthurs pulled the door open and there was an awed silence as they walked in and looked at the shrouded bulk of the magic mirrors stacked against the walls of the store room.
“Take the covers off and let’s see them,” instructed Hamish, pulling a length of dusty cloth from one of the mirrors. As thestrips of sheeting slid to the ground, the magic mirrors were revealed in all their glory, endlessly reflecting both them and the flames of their burning torches. The mirrors were huge — at least seven feet tall, Jaikie reckoned, gazing up at them in wonder. Their glass had a strange, sparkling sheen to it but the dull, iron frames, decorated with carvings of flowers, birds and animals, were oppressive as well as imposing.
Archie shivered slightly and looked at Jaikie and the others. Although they all knew that the mirrors were locked, they nevertheless had an aura of their own that proclaimed them powerful objects of magic. If one of them were to ripple, Archie thought, no one knew who or what might step through … or from where …
Hamish, obviously thinking along the same lines, gestured to the piles of sheeting. “Cover them up again,” he instructed shivering slightly, “and let’s get them loaded onto Arthur’s trolley . And don’t, whatever you do, touch any of the carvings or you might switch one on by accident!”
It took at least six MacArthurs to load each one and they were all panting as the last mirror, looped with ropes, was hauled up to the top of the pile.
“Can you pull all this weight, Arthur?” Archie asked anxiously . “They must weigh a ton!”
Arthur looked down his nose at Archie and blew a puff of smoke. “Do me favour, Archie,” he said dryly, “I
am
a dragon, remember!”
The pace of the return journey was, nevertheless, a lot slower and, as they followed the trolley, Archie’s heart sank as his mind raced over the
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