"Blyton, Enid - The Five Find-Outers 15 - The Mystery of Banshee Towers 1.1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Blyton Enid)

It was at this moment that Fatty suddenly felt impelled to be a banshee. The idea came to him in a flash, and he couldn't stop himself. He opened his mouth and let out a marvellous wail, eerie, long-drawn, high-pitched and really terrifying!

"Eeee-ooooo-ohhhhh-eeee-oh-oooOOOOOOO!"

The man and the three women leapt up from the settee as if they had rockets under them. One of the women screamed, and then they all four fled at top speed to the door and out into the great hall to the entrance where the turnstiles stood.

Not only the visitors jumped almost out of their skin. Larry, Daisy, Pip, Bets and Ern jumped too, and clutched in fright at one another, when the eerie wail echoed round them. Larry realized almost at once that it was Fatty, and he gave him a very hard punch.

"Fathead! What did you do that for? I almost died of fright! Look at poor Bets - she's trembling!"

Fatty, overcome with laughter and shame at one and the same time, couldn't say a word. Gradually the others joined him in laughter, and the six of them rolled about, trying not to laugh too loudly.

"Oh, their faces!" groaned Fatty. "Oh, what made me do it? I'm awfully sorry but it just sort of came over me. Oh, how they skedaddled! And _your_ faces too! Oh, I _must_ laugh again, and I've such a stitch in my side!"

"I bet any artists left skedaddled too!" said Pip, wiping his eyes. "You're a horror, Fatty. The things you think of! Honestly, if it had been a real banshee wailing, it couldn't have done it better. I do think..."

But what he thought the others never knew, because a most extraordinary noise gradually began to echo all around - high-pitched, wailing, unhappy! It went on and on, and Bets and Daisy clutched at the boys in real terror.

"Fatty - that's not you this time, is it, Fatty?" said Daisy, in a shaking voice. "Oh, what is it? I don't like it, I don't, I don't. Tell it to stop."

But the wailing went on and on, mournful and miserable, and soon the children huddled together in fear, amazed and frightened.

At last it stopped, and they all heaved a sigh of relief. "Let's get out of here," said Larry. "It's all right, Bets. It was probably just a silly echo wailing round the hill. Cheer up! Fatty, bring the lunch - we'll have it somewhere else. DO come on!"



8 - A STRANGE DISCOVERY!


Fatty collected the lunch and they all crept out from behind the large old settee. They walked with rather shaky legs across the room to the great hall where the artists had sat, copying the pictures. Now only one was left - the Frenchman who had been copying the picture that Ern had liked so much.

He was rolling up a canvas very carefully, whistling below his breath. He jumped when he saw the children coming in, and looked annoyed.

"So you have no fear of the banshee?" he said. "You are brave, brave, brave! See, all the others have gone. _Ils avaient peur_ - they were so, so afraid. But I - I am not afraid of the banshees - nor of - how do you call it - goosts?"

"Ghosts," said Fatty. "Do you _really_ mean to say you weren't scared?"

"No - but today there was something - something - how do you say it - queer? First there was _one_ banshee wailing - and then, there was a _second_. I suppose, _mes enfants_, you know nothing of the first banshee?"

Fatty felt himself going red, but he wasn't going to admit anything to this laughing man. He didn't like him very much.

"Are you going?" asked Fatty, seeing the man tying the canvas he had been rolling up.

"Just to the village to my car - and then back again to paint, paint, paint!" said the man, and dug Fatty in the chest with his roll of canvas. "And you - you stay here to wail, wail, wail? Ah, what a naughty boy!"

And taking no notice of Fatty's angry face, he strolled across the hall and vaulted over the turnstiles as easily as an acrobat.

"I suppose he thinks he's very clever." growled Fatty, not at all enjoying being laughed at by the artist. "Listen, it's still pouring with rain. We can't picnic on the hills, we'll have to have it here, banshee or no banshee. Don't look so scared. Bets - a wailing can't hurt us."

"The turnstile fellow has gone," said Larry, looking across to where the man had sat when he took their money. "Gone to his lunch, I suppose. Well, we should be pretty safe in this hall. Come on - let's eat something. We'll feel better then!"