'If she's asleep, we might just get away with it' I said, but I didn't feel that confident.
'Even asleep it's too much of a risk' Alice said. 'Just you and me should go, Tom. We might be able to find the key and wouldn't have to pick the lock at all. Where does the Spook keep it?'
'On top of the bookcase usually, but Meg might be keeping it on her now.'
'Well, if it's not there we'll get your bag from the study and bind her with a silver chain so we can get it off her. Either way we wouldn't need you, Andrew. Me and Tom can do that.'
Andrew smiled. 'That would suit me' he said. T like to keep my distance from that house and its cellar. But I can't let you do it all by yourselves without some support. Best thing is if I give you a head start and follow on later. If you don't come to the door within half an hour, I will go back to Adlington and get a dozen big lads from the village. John will just have to live with the consequences of that.'
'All right' I said. 'But the more I think about it, the more I'm afraid that going in through the back door's too risky' I told Alice. 'As I said, at night Meg sleeps in the kitchen, in a chair by the fire. She'd be bound to hear us and we'd have to walk past her to get to the study. The front door would be slightly better but there's still a big risk of waking her. No - there's a much better way. We could go in through one of the back bedroom windows. The best one's on the floor directly under the attic, where the cliff's very close to the window ledge. The window catches in the bedrooms are mostly rusty or broken. I think I could reach across and force the window open and climb in.'
'It's madness' Andrew said. 'I've been in that bedroom and I've seen the gap between the cliff and the ledge. It's too wide. Besides, if you're worried about turning a key in the lock of the back door, just imagine how much noise you'd make forcing open a window!'
Alice grinned, as if I'd said something really daft, but I soon wiped the smile off her face.
'Meg wouldn't hear us if someone were to knock hard on the back door at the very moment that I forced the window ...' I said.
I watched Andrew's mouth open as what I was suggesting slowly dawned on him.
'Nay' he said, 'you don't mean . ..'
'Why not, Andrew?' I asked him. 'After all, you are Mr Gregory's brother. You've reason enough to visit the house.'
'Aye, and I could end up down in the cellar, a prisoner with John!'
'I don't think so. My guess is that Meg won't even answer the door. She doesn't want anyone from the village to know that she's free or she could attract a mob. You could knock at the door four or five times before you go away, giving me all the time I need to get in through the window.'
'Could just work, that' said Alice.
Andrew pushed his plate away and didn't speak for a long time. 'One thing still bothers me' he said at last. 'That gap between the cliff and the window ledge. I can't see you managing it. It'll be slippery too.'
'It's worth a try' I said, 'but if I can't do it, we could return later and risk the back door.'
'We might be able to make things easier by using a plank' Andrew said. 'I've got one out back that should do the job. Alice would need to anchor it to the ledge with her foot while you crawled across. It wouldn't be easy, but I've also got a small crowbar that's made for the job' he added.
'So if s worth a try' I said, trying to appear braver than I felt.
It was agreed, and Alice seemed to have made up her mind to help. Andrew fetched the plank from the yard. But when we opened the front door to set off, a blizzard was raging outside. Andrew shook his head.
'If d be madness for you to go now' he said. 'That blizzard's worthy of Golgoth himself. Drifts will form and it'll be dangerous up on the moor. You could get lost and freeze to death. No, best wait till tomorrow morning. Don't worry' he said, clapping me on the shoulder. 'That brother of mine's a survivor, as we well know. Otherwise he wouldn't have lasted as long as he has.'
There were only two bedrooms above the shop; one for Andrew and one for Alice, so I slept on the settee in the living room, wrapped in a blanket. The fire died in the grate and the room first became chilly, then bitterly cold. I lost count of the number of times I woke up in the night. On the last occasion, dawn light was glimmering behind the curtains, so I decided to get up.
I yawned and stretched and walked up and down a bit to get the stiffness out of my joints. It was then that I heard a noise from the front. It sounded as if someone had rapped three times on the shop window.
When I walked into the shop, it was bright with light reflecting off the snow. There'd been drifts in the night all right and the snow was heaped right up to the base of the window. And there, leaning against the glass, was a black envelope. It had been positioned in such a way that I could see what was written upon it. It was addressed to me! It had to be from Morgan.
One part of me wanted to just leave it there. But then I realized that the streets would start to get busy soon and anyone could walk by and see it. They might pick it up and read it, and I didn't want a stranger knowing my business.
There was so much snow piled against the front door that I couldn't open it and had to go out through the back door, open the yard gate and walk round. It was only as I prepared to plunge into the drift that I realized something very odd. There were no footprints. Facing me was a large mound of snow without a mark upon its surface. How had the letter got there?