The Dragon's Eye (4 page)

“Nearly there!” cried Dr. Drake cheerfully, pointing out of the window to the pale circle of light cast by the dull beam of the carriage's lanterns. “Can you see them?”

I moved over to the window and peered out with great interest. I had fallen asleep thinking about dragons and dragon-hunting expeditions and deciding that I couldn't really see how they could be mythological at all. Was Dr. Drake actually pointing out a dragon to me now? As I peered out of the window, I spotted several small shapes moving — or rather, hopping and scampering — along the road before us and in the grass verge that ran along the side. The carriage veered slightly to avoid one of them, and suddenly I realised what they were.

“Rabbits!” I said. There were hundreds of them.

“Indeed,” said Dr. Drake. “St. Leonard's Forest is home to one of the largest warrens in England. They make quite a mess of my garden, as you will see, but in the forest I always feel that it is I who am the interloper, and so I do little about it. But we are arriving at my home. Welcome to Castle Drake!”

As the carriage turned off the main road and began going down a long drive, I saw that we had reached a rather ramshackle old house, surrounded by an old, crumbling wall and a number of outbuildings. I could see what Dr. Drake meant about the rabbits. His lawn was quite pockmarked. Several rabbits hopped away among the trees as we stepped, yawning sleepily, from the carriage.

The coachman brought down our luggage.

“Many thanks,” said Dr. Drake. “If you follow the road round and take the first lane on the left, you will find the inn I spoke about. The landlord will be expecting you.”

“What is the name of the inn?” asked the coachman.

“Why,” said Dr. Drake with a grin, “it is called the Dragon.” And so saying, he turned, drew out a large key, and unlocked his front door. Once inside, he lit a candle for each of us and led us upstairs, where he showed us into two rooms that lay at the end of a long corridor. My own room, which seemed quite a little dormitory, had four beds in it, but I did not see how many were in Beatrice's.

“It is lucky that I am in the habit of keeping rooms for strangers,” said Dr. Drake. “Although I do not think we will be strangers for long! Good night!” And with that he left us.

I put down my small suitcase and sat down on one of the beds. I thought about the strange experience I had had in Dr. Drake's shop. I also realised that, whoever he was, Dr. Drake was certainly
not
one of those adults who are cross all the time.

My first night at Castle Drake was a restless one. I dreamt that I rode in a carriage, driven, I supposed in my dream, by Dr. Drake. It hurtled down dark, starlit lanes through an inky-black forest where dragons lurked. Whenever I went to look outside to see if I could find out what had happened to Beatrice, a large leathery creature with piercing eyes and sharp claws bashed into the carriage windows with such force that I was sure they were going to break.

When I woke, I got up at once, dressed hurriedly, and went downstairs into the hall. I was disappointed that the house showed no signs of belonging to the owner of the magnificent Dr. Drake's Dragonalia. It seemed like a very ordinary house indeed. Smells of bacon led me to the kitchen, where I was surprised to find Beatrice already tucking in to a large breakfast. A short lady in a brown dress and spectacles was bending over to stir some mushrooms on the stove.

The woman smiled when she saw me.

“
Bonjour,
” she said. “I am Dr. Drake's housekeeper. My name is Mademoiselle Gamay. I am pleased to meet you. I hope you slept well?”

I glanced over at Beatrice. I didn't think that either of us had slept particularly well, but I looked at Mademoiselle Gamay and said, “Very well, thank you.”

“
S'il vous plaît!
Sit down and have a cup of tea and some breakfast,” said Mademoiselle Gamay. “It is doctor's orders, you know.”

And so I sat down. But as soon as Mademoiselle Gamay had put a cup of tea and a plate of food in front of me, she looked at me over the top of her spectacles, laughed, and said, “Do you know? Your sister told me she slept well, too. You will be the first children I have known that slept well on their first night in
this
house!”

Beatrice and I looked at each other. Whatever could she mean? There was silence for a moment, and then Beatrice looked up and asked, “Do lots of children come here, then?”

“Only a few lucky ones,” said Mademoiselle Gamay with a smile. “But surely you know why you're here?”

“We were supposed to meet our parents, but they couldn't come, so they sent us to stay with Dr. Drake,” said Beatrice.

“Did you visit Dr. Drake's shop?” asked Mademoiselle Gamay.

“Yes,” answered Beatrice.

“Did you see downstairs?”

“Ye —” I began.

“No,” answered Beatrice.

“Not really,” I agreed.

“Did you meet Emery?”

“Yes,” said Beatrice.

“And you don't know why you're here?”

“To learn all about drag —?” I began.

“To stay with Dr. Drake,” said Beatrice, interrupting me.

“Well,” said Mademoiselle Gamay, “I won't tell you any more. I don't want to spoil the surprise. Have some more tea, eat your breakfast, and then wait for Dr. Drake in the drawing room. I am sure that he will explain everything.”

The drawing room was small and neat, with a window that faced the front lawn. Three rabbits were hopping about lazily down at the far end. The only interesting thing in the room was a small bookshelf in the corner, and I went straight over to it. But instead of the fascinating volumes about dragons, wizards, pirates, or ancient Egypt that I had hoped to find, there was a series of dull-looking tomes about geography, politics, natural history, economic theory, and one particularly uninviting-looking volume entitled
The History of Benzene in the Manufacturing Industries.

“Good morning,” said Dr. Drake when he arrived. “Mademoiselle Gamay tells me that you hardly got a wink of sleep last night. Well, well. I am sorry, but I am not surprised. Now as I have told you, something important has come up, and I will be very busy. But it will not be long before the other children arrive and our summer school begins.”

“
Summer
school?” said Beatrice. She sounded as though it was almost too good to be true.
If only she knew what
real
learning was like,
I thought.

“Yes,” said Dr. Drake, smiling. “That is one of the reasons your parents sent you to me.”

“But what will we learn?” I asked.

“What would you like to learn?” he said.

“About drag —” I began. But Beatrice interrupted me again.

“About science and literature and art and languages and chemistry and mathematics,” she said.

“Excellent!” said Dr. Drake. “Then it looks as though we will have our work cut out for us. But I'm afraid school does not start for a week. Until then, you must sometimes amuse yourselves. Without looking into any places that you shouldn't, please,” he added, looking at me.

“Of course not,” I said.

“Today,” continued Dr. Drake, “I must take a walk into the forest to collect various plants and other things that I need. Beatrice, I would be delighted if you would accompany me. I think that you will enjoy learning about some of the beautiful flora and fauna we have out here in the countryside. Daniel, I rather fear I will not invite you along on our little expedition. You shall stay here. I do not think we need discuss the reason why?”

I knew very well why. It was a punishment for my keyhole spying the day before. I nodded glumly and looked out the window. There were suddenly only two rabbits on the lawn.

“Very good,” said Dr. Drake. “Then I advise you to spend the day broadening your education. I think you know enough Latin verbs to get started with. There are plenty of books here, as you can see, which should suffice to entertain you. But you must remember not to go looking into rooms and places that do not concern you. Mademoiselle Gamay will come back to the house at around half past twelve to give you some lunch.”

And without further ado, Dr. Drake collected a large leather bag and a stick from the hall, opened the front door, and set off with long strides down a path that led off from the main driveway towards the forest, accompanied by my sister, who, to my surprise, followed him without a word.

When Beatrice and Dr. Drake had gone, I decided that I might as well try to find a book to read. I love natural history — the animals, birds, and fishes of the world have always fascinated me — and when I saw a volume by a man I had heard of, Charles Darwin, I thought that I might as well give it a try. So I picked it up, opened it, and began to read:

It was not the easiest of books, but I found that it did get a little more straightforward after a while, and I did manage to get some idea of what Darwin was writing about. But what really interested me I found on the fifth or sixth page. At the bottom were three perfect sketches of dragon's heads. At least the one on the right looked like a proper dragon's head. The one on the left looked more like it had come from a dinosaur, while the middle one seemed to be something in between. And under the picture was a handwritten note that said,
As the dragon's head evolved, so also did the fangs and venom-producing organs responsible for the remarkable phenomenon of fire breathing.

At that, I began to flick through the book, finding several sketches of dragons that seemed to be illustrating points Darwin was making. There was a series of claw sketches and a sketch showing what it called “wing development.” Another set of sketches seemed to show how a baby dragon developed in its egg. And a later sketch showed a duck-billed platypus with the caption
Some believed that the original specimen was a stitched-together fake.
I decided that when I grew up, I didn't just want to be any old explorer but a dragon explorer. Soon I was imagining going to India to trek through the jungle to search for dragons in lost caves.

When it was time for lunch, Mademoiselle Gamay called me in to the kitchen, where we ate fish soup and slices of thick, chunky bread.

It was about six o'clock when Dr. Drake and Beatrice returned. I was glad to see them, for I had actually started to get rather lonely. But my gladness soon turned to jealousy when I saw that Beatrice, although she must have spent the entire day walking, was smiling broadly, and chattering animatedly to Dr. Drake.

“Good afternoon, Daniel!” called Dr. Drake, grinning at me. “And how have you spent the day?”

I showed him the book I had been reading.

“An excellent choice!” he enthused. “Did you find it interesting?”