"Blyton, Enid - Famous Five 20 - Five Have a Mystery to Solve" - читать интересную книгу автора (Blyton Enid)

And then, very suddenly, a loud sound broke the silence - CRACK!
Everyone jumped up at once. ‘That was a gunshot,’ said Dick. ‘The keepers! But what were they shooting at?’
‘Where’s Timmy?’ cried George, looking all round. ‘Tim, Tim, where are you TIM!’
Everyone’s heart went cold. Timmy! No, the shot couldn’t have been meant for old Timmy! Surely the keepers wouldn’t shoot a dog!
George was nearly mad with dread. She clutched at Dick, tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘Dick! It couldn’t be Timmy, could it? Oh Timmy, where are you? TIMMY! Come to me!’
‘Listen! Listen a minute, George!’ said Dick, as shouts came from the distance. ‘I thought I heard Tim whine then. Isn’t that him coming through the bushes?’
There was the noise of rustling as some creature pressed through the last year’s old bracken fronds - and then Timmy’s head appeared, his bright eyes looking for them.
‘Oh Timmy, darling Timmy, I thought you’d been shot!’ cried George, hugging the big dog. ‘Did they shoot at you? Are you hurt anywhere?’
‘I bet I know why he was shot at,’ said Dick. ‘Look what he’s got in his mouth - half a ham! Drop it, you robber, you!’
Timmy stood there, the ham in his mouth, wagging his tail joyously. He had felt hungry, and was sure the others did too - so he had gone a hunting!
‘Where did you get that, you bad dog?’ said Julian. Timmy wished he could tell him. He would have said ‘Well, I went sniffing after a rabbit - and I came to a shed stored with tins of food - and one was open with this piece of ham inside, waiting for me. And here it is!’
He dropped the ham at George’s feet. It smelt extremely good. ‘Well, thanks, old fellow,’ said Julian. ‘We could do with some of that - though we’ll have to pay for it when we meet the owner, whoever he is!’
‘Julian - he has been shot at!’ said George, in a trembling voice. ‘Look - his tail’s bleeding, and some fur is gone.’
‘My word, yes!’ said Julian, examining Timmy’s tail. ‘Good gracious - those fellows mean business. I really think I’d better find them and tell them we’re here, in case they take a pot-shot at us too!’
‘Well, let’s go now - all of us,’ said Dick. ‘They probably thought Timmy was a wolf or a fox or something, slinking through the trees. Poor old fellow!’
Timmy was not at all disturbed. He was so proud of finding and bringing back the ham that he even wagged his wounded tail!
‘It’s quite certain that no animals or birds will be tame and friendly on this island now,’ said Anne. ‘They’ll have been scared stiff by the game-keepers potting at this and that.’
‘You’re right,’ said Julian. ‘It rather makes me think that the fellows on the island are no longer merely gamekeepers, put in to preserve the wild life, and to frighten sight-seers away - but real, fierce guards of some kind. Like those two horrible men we saw in the courtyard!’
‘Well, what are they guarding then?’ said George.
‘That’s what I’d very much like to find out,’ said Julian. ‘And I think perhaps I’ll snoop round a bit and see what I can discover. When it’s getting dark, though, not now.’
‘I wish we hadn’t come,’ said Anne. ‘I wish we were safe in our cottage with Wilfrid. I wonder if he’s found his whistle-pipe. Goodness, it seems ages since we hired that boat!’
‘Can’t we go quietly through the woods and explore a bit?’ asked George. ‘Or walk round the shore to see if there’s a boat anywhere? I’m getting bored, sitting here, talking.’
‘Well - I suppose old Tim would give us warning at once if he heard anyone near,’ said Julian, who was also longing to stretch his legs. ‘We’ll go in single file, like Indians, and make as little noise as we can. Timmy can go ahead. He’ll give us instant warning if we come near any of the keepers.’
They all stood up, and Timmy looked at them, wagging his nicked tail. ‘I’ll look after you,’ said his two bright eyes. ‘Don’t be afraid!’
They made their way carefully and quietly through the whispering trees. ‘Sh, sh, sh, shoo, shooey,’ said the leaves above their heads, as if warning everyone to go as quietly as possible. And then suddenly Timmy stopped and gave a low, warning growl. They all stood still at once, listening.
They could hear nothing. They were in a dense part of the wood, and it was dark and sunless. What was Timmy growling at? He took a step forward, and growled softly again.
Julian went forward too, as silently as he could. He stopped suddenly and stared. What in the world was that strange figure, gleaming out of the shadows? His heart began to beat loudly. The figure stood there, silently, an arm out-stretched as if pointing at him!
He thought it moved and he took a step backwards in fear. Was it a ghost or something? It was so very very white and shone so queerly. The others, coming up behind, suddenly saw it too and stopped in fright. Timmy growled again, and all the hackles on his neck rose up. What was THIS?
Everyone stood absolutely still, and Anne gave a gulp. She took hold of Dick’s arm, and he held it tightly against him. And then George gave a very small laugh. To everyone’s horror she went forward, and touched the hand of the gleaming figure.
‘How do you do?’ she said. ‘It is so nice to meet a well-mannered statue!’
Well! A statue! Only a statue! It had looked so real standing there, and yet so ghostly. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief, and Timmy ran forward, and sniffed at the statue’s flowing robes.
‘Look around you,’ said Julian. ‘The wood’s full of statues just here - and aren’t they BEAUTIFUL! I hope they don’t suddenly come alive - they really look as if they might!’


Chapter Eleven
A STRANGE DISCOVERY

The children were astonished to see so many gleaming statues, standing in the darkness of the wood. They wandered round them, and then came to a large shed. They peeped inside.
‘Look here!’ said Dick, excited. ‘Long, deep boxes, strong as iron! And see what’s in these two!’
They all came to look. In the first, packed in what looked like sawdust, was a beautifully carved statue of a boy. The next box seemed to be entirely full of sawdust, and Anne had to scrape quite a lot away to see if anything was packed there too.
‘It’s a little stone angel!’ she said, scraping sawdust from a quaint little face, a small crown and the tips of small wings. ‘Lovely! Why are these statues being packed away like this?’
‘Use your brain!’ said Dick. ‘It’s obvious that they’re works of art - and are probably very old. They’re being packed to send away in some boat or ship - to be transported somewhere where they’ll fetch a lot of money - America, probably!’
‘Did they come from the old castle, do you think?’ asked George. ‘It’s quite near. I expect this shed belongs to it. But how was it that the police didn’t find them in the castle when they searched? They must have gone there, and looked into every corner! And what about the statues in the wood outside - why haven’t they been packed away?’
‘Too big, probably,’ said Julian. ‘And too heavy. A small boat wouldn’t be strong enough to take great things like that. But those little statues are quite perfect for transporting - they don’t weigh as much as the big ones - and they aren’t marked by the weather, through standing in rain, sun and snow! Not a mark on them!’
‘You’re right,’ said Anne. ‘I noticed that those big ones outside were green here and there, and some had bits knocked off them. I wish we could get inside the castle and see the things there!’
‘The man at the golf-club, the one we took those lost balls to - he said something about statues as white as snow, standing in this wood - do you remember?’ said Dick.
‘Yes. They must have stood there for some time,’ said Julian. ‘I don’t feel they can be very valuable, else they would be put carefully indoors, under cover. But these little beauties - I guess they’re worth a lot of money!’
‘Who do you suppose packed them in here?’ said Anne.
‘Maybe those big men we saw,’ said Julian. ‘Even small statues like these need someone very strong indeed to carry them here to this shed, and pack them like this. Then, of course, they would have to be carried to some boat - or ship - probably to a boat first, and then rowed out to a waiting ship. But I don’t think those guards are the men behind all this - someone with great knowledge of old things must be the ringleader. He probably heard the old legend of the island, came to have a look round, and made quite a lot of interesting discoveries!’
‘Where?’ asked George. ‘In the castle?’