Gargoyle Hall by Angie Sage

Author:Angie Sage
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2014-09-15T16:00:00+00:00

We found ourselves in a ditch full of weeds. In front of us was an overgrown garden with tall grass sloping down to a big hedge. Mathilda told us to follow her, so we did. We climbed out of the ditch and crawled through the grass. It was fun; it felt like we were tigers stalking our prey. I was really good at it because when I was little I used to practise stalking Aunt Tabby in the garden at Spook House. It annoyed her but I did it anyway because I knew it would be useful one day—and now it was.

We would have easily got away without anyone noticing if Wanda hadn’t crawled into a patch of stinging nettles. Suddenly there was a loud screech and Wanda leapt up like one of those annoying toys on springs that jump out of boxes and manage to be boring (because you know exactly what they are going to do) but scary (because you don’t know when they are going to do it) at the same time.

“Aarrgh!” Wanda yelled. I should have expected that Wanda would find the only stinging nettle patch in the entire garden, but I didn’t expect it, so it was a big surprise. So I jumped up too and yelled, “What? What is it?”

“Shush! Get down, you two!” Mathilda hissed.

I got down but Wanda didn’t. She was hopping about, clutching her knee. “Ouch-ouch-ouch-ooh-ooh-ooh!”

Mathilda grabbed hold of Wanda and pulled her down into the long grass, away from the stinging nettles. Then she very slowly looked up to see if we had been spotted. “Bother!” she whispered.

“Have they seen us?” I asked.

Mathilda threw herself back into the little space of flattened grass that we had made. “The Vultures haven’t seen us,” she said, “but Miss Gargoyle has. She’s waving at us through the window. Bother.”

I remembered the rattling door handle of Miss Gargoyle’s study and the Yellow Vulture standing on guard outside. “That’s because Miss Gargoyle is being held prisoner,” I said. “This morning, the Vultures put a bolt on the outside of her study door. She is probably asking for help.”

Matthilda looked shocked. “I didn’t know it had got that bad,” she said.

Slowly, like a tiger checking out her prey, I raised my head above the grass. I saw the line of tall, pointy windows that ran along the bottom of the house. It was easy to guess which one was Miss Gargoyle’s study—it was the window with a small round person holding up a big sign that read: HELP!

We crawled quickly down the hill and soon we reached the big hedge and a very tall gate, which was locked. Mathilda wriggled through a small hole at the foot of the hedge and we followed her. We came out into a little lane, where a black motorbike was parked. It had an amazing sidecar that looked like a big silver bullet.

As we looked back at Gargoyle Hall, all we could see was the roof with its gargoyles and turrets.

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