A Very Peculiar Plague
“‘Far as I can tell, the bogle came from that empty larder off the scullery passage,’ he declared. ‘But a larder ain’t big enough for our purposes, so we’ll use the scullery, instead.’ He was standing in the school kitchen, which was dark and deserted. Though the air still smelled of baking, and the tabletops were still damp, none of the kitchen staff had stayed up to welcome him. All the cooks and maids were in bed, now. So were the students, the beadles, the matrons, the masters – and every po...rter bar one.
Mrs Kerridge couldn’t leave her dormitory of an evening, so she had made certain arrangements with the night porter, Mr Sowerby. It was Mr Sowerby who had admitted Alfred and his friends into the school. It was Mr Sowerby who had hidden them in an infirmary waiting-room, while candles were snuffed and fires doused all over the school grounds. And it was Mr Sowerby who had finally ushered his unofficial guests across a small yard separating the infirmary from the Great Hall, when he’d judged that the coast was clear.MoreLess
Mrs Kerridge couldn’t leave her dormitory of an evening, so she had made certain arrangements with the night porter, Mr Sowerby. It was Mr Sowerby who had admitted Alfred and his friends into the school. It was Mr Sowerby who had hidden them in an infirmary waiting-room, while candles were snuffed and fires doused all over the school grounds. And it was Mr Sowerby who had finally ushered his unofficial guests across a small yard separating the infirmary from the Great Hall, when he’d judged that the coast was clear.MoreLess
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