The Mystery of the Queen's Necklace

wait and try to slip out when the crowds come tomorrow. He’ll probably figure we stopped looking for him.”
    “He’ll be wrong—we’ll be here,” Trixie said grimly, her jaw set.
    The Bob-Whites stayed to watch the closing of the gate. As the solid, impenetrable wood gate swung shut, the porter waved at them with a conspiratorial grin.
    Soon the Maroon Saloon was kicking up the gravel in the crescent drive of Hartfield House. As usual, McDuff hurried around the car to open the door for Miss Trask.
    Trixie and Honey walked through the rose garden to their room. “I sure do hope he doesn’t break her heart,” Trixie muttered to her best friend. “If he’s off to Scotland tomorrow morning, do you think she’ll ever hear from him again?”
    “When you were up in the tower, Miss Trask told us he plans to come to Sleepyside after he gets back home,” Honey said. “He lives in Nova Scotia.”
    Trixie’s arm still hurt where McDuff had grabbed it. In fact, as she noticed when she changed into her prettiest dress, it was turning purple. She decided not to mention it to Honey, though. Not yet.
    They had to hurry through another delicious dinner in order to get to the theater by curtain time.
    “It seems as if we’ve been rushing from one place to another ever since we got to England,” Honey said. “But isn’t it fun?” Her hazel eyes were shining.
    “It’s fantastic,” Trixie agreed, “but—”
    “I know, you want to find out more about the necklace,” Honey guessed. She and Trixie often understood each other without talking.
    “And tie up a few other odds and ends,” Trixie added.
    When the Bob-Whites took their seats in the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Trixie was still thinking of Gray Cap bottled up in Warwick Castle. But when the play began, she forgot all about him. Caught up
    in the magic spell of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, she was in another world till the houselights came up for intermission.
    “It’s almost as good as our Sleepyside Junior-Senior High production,” Jim chuckled as they filed out to the lobby to get their ices.
    “Don’t let Gregory hear you say that,” said Honey.
    After the play, Gregory joined them for a late supper at the Dirty Duck, where actors gathered after shows, and tourists gathered to see the actors. Gregory’s cheeks were rosy with makeup he had only hastily removed.
    “Jeepers, imagine having supper with Thisbe,” Trixie giggled.
    “You were great,” Honey told him shyly.
    “Good show, old chap,” Mart couldn’t resist saying, in a pompous voice.
    Ordinarily Gregory’s voice, like his father’s, was very deep, but as Thisbe he had used a high, squeaky voice. He entertained the Bob-Whites with some of the lines from his role and then went on to mimic other roles. “ ‘I have had a dream,’ ” he told them in Bottom’s braying voice, “ ‘past the wit of man to say what dream it was.’ ”
    “Wasn’t it a wonderful evening?” Trixie said to Honey, after they got back to the Rose Room and were getting ready for bed. “I’ll never forget this trip to England as long as I live.”
    “Even if we don’t solve our case?” Honey teased.
    “Well,” admitted Trixie, “I’ll be more apt to remember it if we do get this case wrapped up.”
    Trixie woke up so early that the birds hadn’t even started to sing. It was barely light.
    This is our last day , she thought. She didn’t want to waste a minute of it.
    “Honey?” She reached over to the other bed and poked the heap under the covers. “Are you awake?” Honey rolled over. “Ummm-mm,” she said drowsily. “Wha—time—is—it?”
    “Time to wake up,” Trixie said firmly. “I’ve got everything figured out. You know how you go to sleep with a problem, and your subconscious works on it? Well, I must have had just the right dreams last night, because—”
    “Trixie Belden!” Honey sat up on her elbow and forced her eyes open wide enough to see the clock. “It’s not even five o’clock! What in the world are we going to do till breakfast?”
    “Talk about the case.” Trixie was propped up on her pillows, her blue eyes sparkling. “We won’t have any time later. We have to pack, and your mother’s coming—what time is she coming?”
    “She didn’t say,” Honey said sleepily.
    “We have to get to the castle by one,” Trixie said. Honey resigned herself to the idea of staying awake and swung her feet to the floor. “I should think we ought to stay away