You will wonder why the children did not ask their Aunt Enid right out what had become of the contents of the aquarium. Well, you don’t know their Aunt Enid. And besides, even on that first morning, before anything that really _was_ anything could be said to have happened—for, after all, what Francis said he had seen might have been just fancy—there was a sort of misty, curious, trembling feeling at the hearts of Mavis and her brother which made them feel that they did not want to talk about the aquarium and what had been in it to any grown-up—and least of all to their Aunt Enid. And leaving the aquarium, that was the hardest thing of all. They thought of telegraphing to Mother, to ask whether, after all, they mightn’t bring it—but there was first the difficulty of wording a telegram so that their mother would understand and not deem it insanity or a practical joke—secondly, the fact that ten-pence half-penny, which was all they had between them, would not cover the baldest statement of the facts. _MRS DESMOND, CARE OF MRS PEARCE, EAST CLIFF VILLA, LEWIS ROAD, WEST BEACHFIELD-ON-SEA, SUSSEX_ alone would be eightpence—and the simplest appeal, such as “May we bring aquarium please say yes wire reply” brought the whole thing hopelessly beyond their means. “It’s no good,” said Francis hopelessly. “And, anyway,” said Kathleen, “there wouldn’t be time to get an answer before we go.” No one had thought of this. It was a sort of backhanded consolation. “But think of coming back to it,” said Mavis: “it’ll be something to live for, when we come back from the sea and everything else is beastly.” And it was. CHAPTER TWO _The Captive_