Tunnels 04, Closer

bridge that extended a short distance from the island, gave the impression that someone had attempted to recreate the design found on a Wedgwood Willow plate.
    Then the minibus began to climb to the top of a hill and, as they reached the brow, a magnificent house of pale stone loomed before them.
    "We're staying here?" Mr. Rawls asked, putting into words what they were all thinking. "Looks like a stately home."
    "It is," Drake said, heaving down on the steering wheel as the minibus careered around the stone fountain in the center of the circular drive. Then he slammed on the brakes and the minibus skewed to a halt in the gravel.
    In rapt silence, everyone clambered out, grateful to stretch their legs after so long on the road. The two Hunters, when Drake had finally managed to rouse them, couldn't get out of the vehicle quickly enough. They almost knocked him over as they bolted through the door and made straight for the grassy slopes, haring down toward the lake at full pelt, like two frolicking foals.
    "This way," Drake announced, with a wave of his hand at the house. He climbed the steps up to the main doors two at a time, and didn't stop to ring the bell, throwing them open as if he owned the place.
    "Hello! We're here!" he called as he entered, his voice echoing through the interior.
    Not knowing what to expect, Will and the others had followed him in. They now stepped hesitantly across the black-and-white marble floor, with a coat of arms set into the center.
    None of them spoke as they took in the dark wood paneling and the huge staircase that swept up to the first floor. Above them, the most elaborate chandelier hung from the ceiling, which itself was latticed with ornate plasterwork, and on the walls were a multitude of paintings.
    "Those are amazing," Will murmured. Before him was a large marble fireplace, flanked by a pair of identical suits of armor which were holding ornate-looking maces across their breastplates. Chester joined his friend in admiring them.
    "Really cool, just like Marlinspike Hall!" he agreed. "But who lives here? Some lord?"
    Drake shook his head. "No," he exhaled, as if what Chester had suggested couldn't be further from the truth. He went to a closed door at the side of the hallway. "These are the rules of the house. The study is on the other side of this," he said, slapping the door with his palm so hard that it shook on its hinges. "On no account are you to go in here, because you might see something that allows you to identify this location. Is that understood?"
    He looked around the group, fixing each of them with a stare until they nodded their agreement.
    "Everywhere else in the house is fine -- go where you want -- but don't stray off the estate or--"
    "Estate?" Will interrupted. "Just how big is this place?"
    "Big enough," Drake answered cryptically. "In fact, it's probably better if none of you wanders out of sight of the house. There may be people staying in the workers' cottages, which are a mile away in that direction." Drake stuck a thumb toward the back of the hall. "If they are around at the moment, they'll keep themselves to themselves, anyway. They're not the sort of people who allow anyone to see them."
    "Sounds mysterious," Mr. Rawls piped up.
    As he shook his head, Drake's expression was deadly serious. "You really don't want to mess with them," he said. The he lightened up. "However, you are likely to bump into Old Wilkie, the gardener, who lives in the groundsman's lodge. He's worked for the family for years, but if you get into a conversation with him, you're only to say you're staying here as guests of the owner. Nothing more, no names and nothing personal. Another thing -- you are not to even touch the house phone. And you are not to use mobile phones or electronic equipment of any description, not for anything. I won't have us traced here." He took a few steps to the back of the hallway, where he peered down a corridor. "Where's he got to?" he asked, then yelled loudly again. 'Hello, we're here!"
    "No need to shout," a tetchy voice responded, and a man emerged from another corridor. "I'm not deaf yet, and I knew perfectly well that you were here. I opened the main gate for you, didn't I?"
    The man wore a tweed jacket over a light brown waistcoat, and his trousers had leather patches on both knees. Will couldn't work out if he was in his sixties or seventies, but he was light on his feet despite the fact he was carrying a walking cane. His face was craggy and