The woman did something with some contraption on the floor and it began to glow red and give out a welcome heat.

‘Now take all that bark off and put these nice pyjamas on, ’ she said as if he could understand what she was saying. ‘We’ll soon have the spare room looking nice for you. Come on!’

Nab just stood looking at her. He recognized the Urkku language from the time the little girl had spoken to him by the stream last summer, but he was unable to grasp what she wanted him to do. She moved up to him and began removing his bark; he grabbed her hand as she put it to the end of one of the briars that held it together and refused to let go. He would not let her take this off him; it was a part of himself and frightened though he was he would fight to keep it. It had taken him a long time to put it all together and to treat the bark so that it remained supple and he was proud of the way it had turned out.

‘All right, keep it on,’ she said and, moving over to the windows, drew the curtains. ‘Now, here’s the bed – you want to lie down on it and get a good night’s sleep. I’ll leave the light on for you and come back later with a mug of cocoa to see how you are.’ She moved to the door and looked round to see him still standing where she’d put hint when they first came in the room. He was staring at her. ‘You’re a strange one and no mistake, ’ she said, and closed the door behind her as she went out.

When she had gone Nab remained where he was until he heard her footsteps recede along the corridor and down the stairs. Everything was now silent except for the battering of the rain against the window. He went over to the curtains and, pulling them aside, put his head against the glass and looked out at the night. At first he could see nothing until he discovered that by cupping his hands between the window and his eyes so as to shield the light from the room he was able to see quite clearly. Beneath him was the farmyard through which he had been brought that night; at the end of the yard facing the house was a large cowshed and to the left of that Nab could see the roofs of other cowsheds which stood on either side of the track into the farm. He tried to look over the roofs of the sheds but everything was pitch black beyond them and it was only because the yard light was on that the boy could see anything outside at all. He stood with his nose pressed against the glass for a long time; he somehow felt better looking out and his study of the cowsheds and the barns occupied his mind. Eventually he turned round and faced the rectangular room with its four white walls and wooden door. He felt an overwhelming sense of being trapped and confined; the walls seemed to bear in on him and he felt an uncontrollable panic well up inside. Out of instinct he began pacing round the room in an effort to control his pounding heart and he found that it helped to relieve him slightly. He was still pacing round the room when, four hours later, the woman opened the door to see how he was. He didn’t even stop to look up at her, his mind was so numb. She watched his monotonous pacing for a minute or two and then put the light out and closed the door. Immediately Nab flew at the door and began screaming and yelling; he couldn’t bear that total blackness. She came in again.

‘All right, all right. I’ll leave the light on. Now, stop your bawling, there’s a good lad.’ She watched him resume his circuit and then, feeling sorry for this strange boy and puzzled at his odd behaviour, closed the door once again and locked it before she went down the landing to her bedroom, where she was unable to get to sleep for a long time because of the creaking of floorboards that was coming from the spare room. Well, she thought, she had done all she could. Perhaps when the police came out tomorrow they would solve the mystery; although they hadn’t been able to tell Father anything over the phone. He had probably escaped from an institution somewhere and had to live rough for a few days. Yes, that would be it; and he couldn’t speak or understand them because he was backward. Eventually she dozed off under this train of thought while Nab still paced endlessly round and round the little room.

When Sam had left Nab at the foot of the stairs and gone back to the living room to lie down by the fire, his mind had been racing. His main thought had been that Nab must be set free somehow and as soon as possible; that very night if it could be done. But how? He would find it difficult, if not impossible, to do it on his own and besides, if he failed, those animals who were still not sure of him would have their doubts confirmed. No; he must get to Silver Wood and tell Brock and Warrigal so that they could all work out a plan together; that way, if it failed, at least he wouldn’t be solely to blame. He was amazed at the good fortune of the boy’s being captured by the Urkku from bis household, although the wood was on their land, albeit at the very edge, and as the two young masters had got older they had taken more and more to shooting, so perhaps it had been only a matter of time before they saw him. The fire felt warm on his face and stomach as he lay on the rug. He loved this time of early evening when he had the whole room to himself; when the Urkku came in he would be told to move back and lie in the cold behind the couch but until then he could bask in the full warmth of the fire and watch the flames flickering with a red glow on the walls. But tonight he would have to stir himself and go off to Silver Wood; blast the rain, he thought.

Reluctantly he got up from the hearth and went down the three stone steps to the front door, where he began to bark and scratch to be let out. The old master got up from his rocking chair in the kitchen where he’d been lighting up his pipe and, patting him on the head, opened the door, whereupon Sam dashed out into the rain.

He stopped for a second in the yard under the shelter of a wall and waited until he saw the chink of light coming from the house narrow and finally disappear as the door was shut. Then he raced off down the yard, turned left at the end to make his way along the track between the cowsheds and then, squeezing under the gate, he was out into the fields. Near Wood formed a barrier on his right and he ran along in the field, keeping to the edge of the wood so that it provided him with some shelter from the driving rain. Finally he was out of sight of the farm and when he reached the far corner of Near Wood he turned left to head across the fields to the pond. He was completely in the open now, fully exposed to the rain and to the wind which had just begun to increase in intensity and was blowing directly against him. He put his head down and willed his tired body to keep going; his coat was completely sodden with the rain and had begun to feel heavy and his paws squelched and slipped on the wet grass. Soon he found himself climbing the familiar rise and when he reached the top he saw below him the dark brackish waters of the pond looming out of the night and beyond it the tall trees of Silver Wood. He bounded down the little hill and, passing the pond on his right, headed out across the last two fields before the wood. The wind had now begun to blow the rain away and the night began to get lighter as the clouds broke up and allowed the moon to come through; looking up he could see the black clouds racing across the night sky, each one, as it passed in front of the moon, acquiring a silver border. He put his head down into the wind again and raced on under the fence that enclosed the field in front of the wood and finally through the old barbed wire fence that went around the wood itself. He stopped for a second, panting heavily, and then made for Brock’s sett under the Old Beech. When he came into sight of the earth he was surprised to see the badger outside talking to Warrigal, who was perched on one of the lowest branches of the tree. They were both looking at him as if he were expected.