Albert said, ‘It’s not nonsense. He took it then, if you don’t like the word steal. Took it without saying anything. And he’d no right to do that, until it was all settled up. All the estate! That’s the law, Hepzibah! I read it all up in the library.’ He looked at Carrie and his eyes sparked with triumph. ‘And if he took the ring, he might have taken something else, mightn’t he?’‘That’s enough, Mr Sea-Lawyer,’ Hepzibah said.‘What’s a sea laywer?’ Nick asked, looking up.‘Someone who’ll argue the hind leg off a donkey just for the sake of it.Now, d’you want that old story, or don’t you? It’s all one to me but time’s getting on and your Auntie’ll want you back early if you’re to be up at crack of dawn in the morning.’ Carrie said slowly, ‘I’ll put the skull back first, shall I? In its box in the library.’She wanted to be alone for a minute, away from Hepzibah’s kindness and Albert’s triumphant look. Of course, he’d been right all along! Mrs Gotobed had made a Will and Mr Evans had stolen it. Stolen it out of meanness and greed. He wanted Druid’s Bottom and he didn’t care what happened to Hepzibah and Mister Johnny. That was the worst thing, worse than stealing a ring, or even the Will. He didn’t care about anyone; he’d turn Hepzibah out and live here himself, where he’d no right to be ...Carrie felt stifled. The library window was open and she went to stand by it, gulping in air. The evening breeze cooled her forehead and ruffled the surface of the horse pond in the yard. The horse pond was bottomless, Albert had said, when he threw the stone in.Carrie’s thoughts were like bits of a jigsaw, whirling round in her head.Separate pieces but all fitting in, one to another. Albert throwing a stone and it falling. Bombs falling on cities, houses crumbling like sandcastles. Horrible, but somehow exciting to think of. Walls crumbling – and the curse the African boy had put on Druid’s Bottom if his skull ever left it.