Catweazle and the Magic Zodiac

Cedric banged out of Duck Halt.
    There
was a long pause. Catweazle’s rage boiled inside him like a cauldron and
finally, with a great cry of anger, he rose to his feet and slammed his book
shut. ‘Four-eyed ferret!’ he cried.
    It was
dangerous to insult a magician and mock his powers and at first Catweazle
thought only of revenge. He planned various ways to bewitch Owlface, but then
he realized that it would be more satisfying to prove how potent his powers
could be.
    Catweazle
opened the book again and found the spell for seeking hidden gold. ‘Search not
by day,’ he read, ‘for gold is the metal of the sun. Therefore, make thou thy
magic at midnight.’
    He
looked at Touchwood. ‘Tonight, my minion,’ he said, ‘we will go thither and
Owlface shall eat his words.’
    When
Cedric returned home he found his parents in the hall with a tall skinny man
who was banging a tuning fork against the refectory table and listening hard to
the faint humming sound it made.
    ‘Yes,’
said the stranger. ‘Definite vibrations.’
    ‘I told
you so,’ said Lady Collingford to her husband.
    ‘Any
idea who it might be?’ the man asked.
    ‘Yes I
have,’ said Lady Collingford firmly. ‘I think it’s Lord Alfred.’ She pointed to
his portrait on the wall.
    ‘That’s
ridiculous,’ said Lord Collingford irritably. ‘Why on earth would he want to
haunt us?’
    ‘Because
of the treasure,’ said Lady Collingford.
    ‘Ah!
Treasure!’ said the stranger.
    ‘He was
supposed to have hidden it somewhere in the house before he... er... took off
from Beachy Head,’ said Lady Collingford. ‘Maybe that’s why he’s come back. To
tell us where he put it.’
    Lord
Collingford made an exasperated sort of noise and the thin man said coldly, ‘I
gather you don’t believe in ghosts, Lord Collingford.’
    ‘You
gather correctly, Mr Kenley,’ said Lord Collingford.
    ‘Lord
Alfred isn’t haunting us, is he?’ whispered Cedric to his mother.
    ‘That’s
what Mr Kenley is here to investigate,’ said Lady Collingford, looking slightly
embarrassed.
    It was
really Catweazle’s fault. The affair of the disappearing boot had finally
convinced Lady Collingford that the house was haunted, so she had asked Hector
Kenley, the well-known ghost hunter, to Kings Farthing, hoping he would be able
to persuade the ghost to reveal the treasure or go elsewhere, little knowing
that Kenley and his assistant Hackforth were complete frauds.
    Lord
Collingford wasn’t so easily deceived. At midnight Kenley and Hackforth were
busy on the landing, setting up their pretended ghost-hunting experiments, when
he appeared in his dressing-gown to check up on them.
    ‘Isn’t
someone going to trip over that?’ he said, pointing at a wire stretched across
the landing.
    ‘Not if
they’re a ghost,’ said Kenley, pretending to write something in his note-book.
    Lord
Collingford thought about this for a moment. ‘Then why put it there?’ he asked.
    Kenley
stopped writing, momentarily caught out. ‘Er... just leave this to us, Lord
Collingford,’ he said airily, ‘we do know what we are doing, you know.’
    Hackforth
came hurrying up with a large tin of talcum powder, and went crashing over the
wire. Lord Collingford gave them an icy look and bade them both a rather curt
good night.
    ‘Sorry,
Hector,’ said Hackforth, struggling to his feet.
    ‘Where
have you been?’
    ‘Sprinkling
the door-knobs with talcum powder.’
    ‘You’ve
been hours.’
    ‘There’s
a hundred and eighty door-knobs,’ said Hackforth glumly. He put down the talcum
powder. ‘Anyway, Hector, why do I have to do it?’
    ‘I’ve
no idea,’ said Kenley, ‘but it looks impressive.’
    ‘Think
we’ll be here long?’
    Kenley
shrugged. ‘Might keep it going until we get to Smallwood Towers, and that should
take us up to Christmas.’
    They
hid several small loudspeakers and connected them to a tape recorder in their
bedroom. ‘We’ll wait for an hour,’ said Kenley, ‘then we’ll give them a few
moans. That ought to do the trick.’
    Downstairs,
Catweazle had climbed into Kings Farthing on his private treasure hunt. He had
brought his magic book, an old bell and some candles he had blackened with boot
polish. He crept into Cedric’s bedroom and managed to open the secret panel.
Cedric woke as he disappeared and then followed him down to the magic chamber.
He found him standing amid the flickering candles.
    ‘Just
what d’you think you’re up to?’ said