Dominic's discovery by Gervase Phinn

Author:Gervase Phinn [Gervase Phinn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Jeunesse
ISBN: 9780141316550
Published: 2004-03-29T07:00:00+00:00

Later that night, when the lights had been turned off, when everything was still and silent and everyone was tucked up sleeping, three boys climbed from their beds in the large attic room at the very top and at the back of the house, to hear the story of the ‘Phantom Horseman of Brandon Bridge’.

‘It was in the year eighteen hundred and fifty-five,’ began Dominic in a hushed voice, ‘when Sir Brandon de Blunderville galloped out of Greaseborough Grange on his great grey horse. He wore a coat as red as fresh blood, a top hat as black as night, and spurs as sharp and shiny as silver knives. It was a cold, cold morning and the frost covered the ground like icing sugar. Sir Brandon was off to join the hunt and chase the fox.’

‘I like foxes,’ said Gerald.

‘Shush,’ said Michael. ‘Go on, Dom.’

‘Clip-clop, clip-clop went the horse's hoofs on the frozen ground,’ continued Dominic. ‘Over walls he jumped, through streams, across fields, down mossy banks, after the fox. He was a cruel man was Sir Brandon and no fox had ever escaped him. On and on he rode, his sweating horse beneath him panting and blowing out clouds of steam in the cold air –’

‘You're really good at telling stories, Dominic,’ remarked Gerald. He didn't sound all that happy.

‘Shush,’ said Sean. ‘Go on, Dom.’

‘Then he saw it!’

‘What?’ gasped Gerald.

‘The fox,’ said Dominic. ‘It was on the railway line in front of a tunnel, looking up at Sir Brandon. “Got you!” he cried, and blew his horn for the hounds. Down the bank came the dogs, leaping and springing, snarling and snapping.’

A distant owl hooted and the wind rustled the trees outside the window.

Gerald shuddered. ‘This is really spooky,’ he whispered.

‘Shush,’ said Michael. ‘Go on, Dom.’

‘The fox looked up for a moment and then trotted into the tunnel. None of the hounds would follow. They barked and growled and ran round in circles, but they would not go into the tunnel. Sir Brandon shouted and blew on his horn, but not a dog would go in after the fox. He dug his spurs deeply into the horse's side, leapt down the bank and galloped into the tunnel's darkness after the fox.’

‘And?’ asked Michael, his eyes as round as saucers.

‘A train was coming from the other end.’

‘Oh, heck!’ murmured Gerald.

‘There was a sickening thud,’ continued Dominic, ‘a terrible shriek of the whistle, a screeching of brakes and a scream – a terrible, eerie, frightening scream which echoed down the tunnel. Then the train appeared through great clouds of steam and thundered on down the track. The hounds ran off, yelping and whining. And do you know what?’

‘What?’ asked Gerald in a small voice.

‘The fox came out of the tunnel, smiling,’ said Dominic.

‘A fox can't smile,’ said Michael.

‘This one did,’ said Dominic. ‘Sir Brandon was never seen again, but on some days when it's cold and misty and the sky is full of dark clouds, out of the tunnel gallops the

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