Trapped, the children were caught by the figures and hustled up into the Salon. Half-carried down to the table, George was the first to spy Julian. He was sitting on a chair to one side of the room, a smile on his lips and an open book in his hands. George could see his mouth silently moving, and with a gasp she realised that he was reading to himself, oblivious of his cousin's plight. Even when Anne caught sight of him and cried out his name, her brother gave no indication that he had heard her. His concentration was absolute, and Anne shot a despairing glance at Dick. Dick looked at his brother. Able to lip-read due to his friendship with Algy Spokes, one of his dormitory pals, who was himself profoundly deaf due to a science experiment with nuclear waste in the Lower III^rd which had gone horribly wrong, he was able to decipher what Julian was saying. With a dawning sense of horror he made out the words "Bind us together", and from the rhythmic tapping of his left foot, it was clear that his brother was softly singing a chorus. Dick was unable to imagine what had caused such a fundamental shift in Julian's theology, and completely at a loss he turned back to the two hooded figures that now stood in front of him. In unison, they raised their arms and threw back the cowls, revealing their faces. Anne screamed in recognition, and wet herself for the third time in this adventure. "This can't be happening" she thought, but the warm feeling down he thigh told her that it was. The couple turned towards George and the girl gasped as she saw the faces of her parents. "Mummy! Daddy!" she cried. "What's going on? How did you get here?" But Uncle Quentin and Aunt Fanny made no reply. Instead, they smiled a sickly-sweet grin at their daughter as her father ruffled her short curly hair. Dick watched with mounting horror as his Uncle and Aunt both laid their hands on George's head. For a moment George looked dazed, but within seconds her anxious face had relaxed, and she fell gently backwards into the arms of the figure behind her who, as she lowered her to the floor, Dick recognised as Alice, the missing kitchen-maid from Kirrin Cottage (let the reader understand). Almost before George had been laid on the floor, her parents had moved on to Anne. Dick's sister made no sound as she received the laying-on of hands, and quietly she crumpled down onto the parquet flooring to be laid in the recovery position by a lithe young lad whose rustic clothing revealed him to be one of the stable boys from the Riding School at Wart's Bottom. Dick didn't recognise him until lad shook his golden locks from off his forehead, and instantly recognition dawned. "Jack!" Involuntarily the name burst from his lips, and for a moment their eyes met. In that second Dick knew that the close friendship that he and Jack had developed the previous summer was no more. The lad's eyes were without depth of feeling as he looked at Dick, and turning his attention back to Anne, he lowered his head once more so that the blond eyelashes and pink lips were hidden from Dick's sight. He couldn't see Jack's face any more either.

As Uncle Quentin and Aunt Fanny stood in front of Dick, a sly smile spread across the scientist's face. "Well," he said, looking deep into Dick's brown eyes, "I suppose in a way it had to come to this." "Oh, Quentin," said his wife, "don't hang about. Let's get on with it." Uncle Quentin shrugged his shoulders and reached out his hands. Placing the slightly moist palms on Dick's forehead he exerted a gentle pressure. Dick stared back at his Uncle. He held his gaze as long as possible before he too closed his eyes and fell backwards.

The man in the suit stepped forward. "What about the dog?" he asked Fanny. She looked across the room to where Timmy was lying next to George, softly licking her face with his pink tongue. "We'd better leave him alone," she said, quietly. "That way there won't be any complications."

Julian lifted his eyes from the book of texts he was reading and gazed across the room. He saw his brother and sister lying on the floor next to George, but aware of the other people watching him, he feigned abstraction. He looked back at the book. For some reason he was feeling very tired, and when, a few moments later, one of the young men came across to him and told him that it was time to go to bed, he followed him without any argument. The young man smiled, and, taking him by the hand, led Julian upstairs to the room in which he had earlier been imprisoned. The moist towel was still lying over the back of the chair, and as the shower was turned on, Julian offered no resistance.