"Oh! had she killed him?"
But at this most sensational point of the narrative Miss Andrews came into the dormitory, scolded the girls for being slow in getting to bed, and absolutely forbade further conversation. The penalties for breaking silence rule were heavy, and might involve suspension of tennis on the following day, so Beatrix" story, like a magazine serial, must perforce be left "to be continued in our next".
Rose could not help thinking about it as she lay in bed. She wondered if groans came from the pack, and what the girl did next--whether she ran to a neighbour"s for help, or called the dog, or locked the parlour door, or went out of her mind with terror. "It would have driven me stark staring mad!" she shuddered. She felt too nervous to go to sleep.
All the tales she had ever heard or read about murders and burglaries rushed to her remembrance with startling vividness.
The night was very hot, and the window, of course, was wide open. How easy it would be for somebody to creep up the ivy, and climb across the sill! The more she thought about it, the more terrified she grew. For a couple of hours she tossed restlessly, lying perfectly still every now and then, so as to listen intently. Were those stealthy footsteps in the pa.s.sage? Was that the sound of a file on the window below? How could Beatrix, Dona, and Prissie sleep so peacefully? The whole house was absolutely quiet; there was no moon, so it was perfectly dark. Again Rose longed for a night-light. It would be rea.s.suring, at least, to be able to see for herself that the room held no intruder. What--oh! what was that? Through the dead silence came a sound like a pistol-shot. She sat up in bed, trembling in every limb. The noise had wakened the other girls. Again it rang through the quiet, so near that they were convinced it must be in the room. Dona was whimpering with terror, Prissie buried her head in the bedclothes; Beatrix, more courageous than the rest, stretched out her hand for the matches that lay on a small table near her bed, and lighted a candle. The girls looked fearfully round, fully expecting to see a masked figure covering them with a revolver. There was n.o.body at all. They stared into one another"s panic-stricken faces.
A third time, close at hand, came the ringing report.
"It"s in the cupboard!" quavered Rose.
At the end of the dormitory two steps led to a small store-room where Mrs. Franklin kept spare blankets, curtains, and a miscellaneous a.s.sortment of articles. The door was always locked, and the girls had never even seen inside. It had often excited their curiosity: to-night it was a veritable Bluebeard"s chamber. They remembered that a big parcel had been delivered that day by the carrier. Had Mrs. Franklin stored it in the cupboard? Could it--oh, horrible idea!--be a repet.i.tion of the pedlar"s pack? Very white and trembling, Beatrix got out of bed, and, candle in hand, crossed the room. From under the cupboard door, down the white-painted steps, ran a stream of something dark and red.
The shriek which she uttered was followed by piercing screams from her companions. That a tragedy was being enacted in the store-room they had not a shadow of doubt. At any moment they expected the door to open and the murderer to show himself. With an instinct of self-preservation they fled from the dormitory, and ran along the pa.s.sage shouting for help.
Instantly the house was aroused. Alarmed faces peeped from other dormitories, timorous voices asked what was the matter. Several girls began to weep hysterically. Mrs. Franklin, armed with a poker, came hurrying up, followed closely by Miss Andrews, grasping a hockey stick.
Taking the candle from Beatrix, the Princ.i.p.al proceeded to No. 7, the girls marvelling at her courage.
"There"s blood oozing out of the cupboard!" Prissie and Dona a.s.sured the audience in the pa.s.sage.
"What nonsense! Nothing of the sort!" declared Mrs. Franklin"s firm, matter-of-fact voice, as after a moment of inspection she emerged from the dormitory. "What has really happened is this. I had left half a dozen bottles of elder syrup there; the very hot weather has no doubt caused them to ferment, and I suppose they have popped their corks. I"ll fetch the key. Yvonne and Novie, stop crying this instant! There"s nothing whatever to be frightened about!"
Mrs. Franklin"s supposition proved to be correct. When the cupboard was unlocked, three corkless bottles and a sticky pool of elder syrup were revealed. Miss Andrews wiped up the mess with a towel, and carried the bottles downstairs, removing also the three which were intact, in case of further accidents. The general alarm had changed to mirth. In their revulsion of feeling the girls laughed uproariously at their scare. The elder syrup was used in winter-time to doctor colds, and they were rather fond of it. It had never played such a gruesome prank before.
"It"s a good thing we didn"t ring the school bell again, and send for Mr. White," said Mrs. Franklin. "We should have looked extremely foolish if he and half the village had arrived."
"But how can you tell whether it"s a real scare or a false one?"
objected Dona, who felt that there was ample excuse for their alarm.
The Princ.i.p.al, however, was not disposed to argue that point, and packed the girls back to their rooms. In half an hour, even Rose Randall was sleeping the sleep of the just.
CHAPTER XVII
The Wishing Well
Mr. Ledbury, feeling rather doubtful whether Mr. Hawkins"s tuition had been up to the required standard, had decided to send Cedric to receive some special coaching before going in for his naval examination. The boy departed to London in high spirits, leaving his sister visibly depressed at his absence. Mrs. Ledbury had lately been far more sympathetic with Githa, and noticing that the girl seemed to be moping, she suggested inviting a school-mate to spend Friday to Monday with her. Her aunt had never before made such an amazing proposition. Much as Githa would have liked to entertain an occasional visitor, she had not dared to ask to be allowed to do so. She looked so utterly delighted that Mrs. Ledbury, who generally saw her most undemonstrative side, was frankly astonished.
"It"s good for you to make friends of your own age," she remarked. "Tell me which girl you would like to have, and I will write a note to Mrs.
Franklin."
Githa"s choice promptly fell on Gwethyn. The invitation was sent, and Mrs. Franklin, after an interview in the study, gave majestic permission for its acceptance. The proposed visit caused much amazement in the school. Mr. and Mrs. Ledbury had been looked upon rather as bogeys by the girls. Githa had been so guarded in her information about her home life that it was always presumed she was unhappy. How she spent her spare hours she had never divulged. Her doings, away from Aireyholme, had always been more or less of a mystery.
"I hope you"ll have a tolerable time!" said Gwethyn"s friends to her in private, their tone clearly expressing antic.i.p.ation of the contrary. "I suppose Mrs. Ledbury"s most frightfully strict. You"ll have to be "prunes and prism" personified."
"I"ll worry through somehow without shocking her more than I can help,"
returned Gwethyn. "It"s ever so decent of her to ask me."
"Well, of course you couldn"t refuse," decided her chums.
If Gwethyn had any misgivings upon the subject, the sight of Githa"s pathetic eagerness was sufficient to nerve her to brave a hundred strict and particular aunts. The poor little Toadstool had been so friendless, that it was an immense event in her life to be able to bring a companion back with her on Friday afternoon. Gwethyn had really grown to like her, so the visit was one of inclination, and not, as her chums insisted, sheer philanthropy. Perhaps a little curiosity was mixed up with it. She would certainly be the first Aireyholme girl to see the Ledburys at home. There was much debating as to whether Tony should accompany them, but in the end they reluctantly decided to leave him at school. He could not keep pace with bicycles, and it was almost impossible to ride and nurse him, so that to take him would necessitate wheeling the machines the whole way. He possessed such a host of admirers that they could not honestly flatter themselves that he would pine for their society. Yvonne would be only too proud to give him his Sat.u.r.day bath, and he could sleep on Katrine"s bed. Gwethyn"s luggage was sent by the carrier, and when school was over on Friday afternoon she and Githa started off to cycle.
Gwethyn laughed as she reminded her companion how she and Katrine had first approached the Gables on the morning of their unauthorized ride.
The house, which from the back had looked like a farm, proved a very different building when viewed from the front. It was a handsome modern residence, with beautifully kept grounds and immaculately rolled gravel drive.
Mrs. Ledbury received Gwethyn very graciously; if her manner was not expansive, she evidently intended to be kind. She was not at her ease with young girls, that was plainly to be seen, but she made some efforts at conversation, to which Gwethyn responded n.o.bly. Tea, served in the garden, was rather a solemn business, for Githa scarcely spoke once before her aunt, and there were long pauses of silence, during which Mrs. Ledbury seemed conscientiously endeavouring to think of some fresh remark to address to her youthful visitor. All three were secretly relieved when the ordeal was over, and Mrs. Ledbury went into the house, leaving her niece to entertain her friend alone.
Githa had much to show to Gwethyn, and they adjourned at once to inspect the menagerie of pets which she kept in a disused stable.
Gwethyn loved animals, and was ready to wax enthusiastic over the waltzing mice, the guinea-pigs, the rabbits, the silk-worms, and the formicarium with its wonderful nest of ants. The latter especially fascinated her, when Githa removed the cover, and she was able to watch the busy little workers running hither and thither at their domestic operations.
"How do you feed them?" she asked.
"I put honey inside this doorway, and water inside the other; that"s all they need."
Rolf, the collie who had given Gwethyn so churlish a reception on her former visit, was now ready to make friends, and a grey stable cat also condescended to be petted and stroked. Githa took a deep interest in poultry, and was anxious to show the flock of young turkeys, the goslings, the chickens, and ducks, all of which she had helped to rear.
"Of course I can"t look after them altogether when I"m at school all day, but I get up very early, so that I can give them their morning meal, and I feed them in the evening too. They know me as well as they know Tom. I just love taking care of them. When I grow up, I"d like to have a poultry farm."
Gwethyn had to see Githa"s garden, the seat she had made in the apple-tree, the field where she often found Nature specimens to bring to school, and the bushes where the nightingale sang in spring. Indoors also there were her books and picture post-cards to be inspected, and some fancy work upon which she had been busy. Mr. and Mrs. Ledbury dined at seven, and the two girls had supper by themselves in the morning-room.
"I do my lessons here in the evenings," Githa explained, "but, thank goodness, we"ve none to-night. What would you like to do now? Shall we play tennis, or go for a walk down the fields?"
Gwethyn, knowing from school experience that Githa"s tennis capabilities were not of a very high order, chose the walk. It was a greater change for her; she loved exploring, and Aireyholme rules did not give her as much scope in that direction as she would have wished. Mr. Ledbury owned some of the land near The Gables, and Githa proposed that she should take her friend to see the church, and that they could then come back through her uncle"s plantations. It was a lovely summer evening, with a fresh little breeze that was most exhilarating after the heat of the day. They strolled down a lane where wild strawberries were still in their prime, and could be found for careful searching. Through cornfields and across a pasture, then down a deep lane, a very tangle of traveller"s joy, their way led to the church, the object of their expedition. It was a beautiful old Norman building, standing solitary and apart, with no hamlet or even a farm near to it. It had a neglected appearance, for the porch was unswept, the walk a ma.s.s of weeds, and gra.s.s grew high over the graves.
"It seems such a lonely place for a church," said Githa. "I often wonder if there used to be a village here in the Middle Ages. It"s a chapel of ease now to Elphinstone; we only have service here on Sunday afternoons, except on the first Sunday in the month. Not many people come, only a few of the farmers about. I wish I could take you inside, but the door"s locked, and the clerk lives too far off for us to go and borrow the keys."
By peeping through the windows they could see the ancient carved choir stalls, and some tattered flags, placed as memorials of long-ago battles. A few sculptured tombs, with knights in effigy, were also dimly discernible in the transept.
"They belong to the Denham family," explained Githa. "They used to be the great people of the neighbourhood once, and they still own Malbury Hall, that quaint old place with the moat round it. No, they don"t live there; it"s let to some Americans. The Denhams are too poor now to keep it up. This is their coat of arms over the porch--a griffin holding a sword. Once they used to come to church with all their followers; it must have been a grand sight. I often wish I could shut my eyes and catch a vision of it. They tied their horses to those yew-trees; the rings are still there. Then they would come clattering with their spurs up the paved path, and the ladies would come too, with little pages to hold up their Genoese velvet trains, and the very same bell would be ringing that rings now, and perhaps some of them would sit in the same places that we do. They were all baptized, and married, and buried here."
"And do they haunt the church?" asked Gwethyn with a little shudder.
"Many people say they do. I don"t think anyone cares to come here after dark. Sir Ralph is supposed to walk, and Lady Margaret. They go down that path, towards the Wishing Well."
"Really a "wishing well"?" queried Gwethyn.
"So folks say. It"s very, very ancient. Shall we go and look at it? Oh, we shan"t meet Sir Ralph and Lady Margaret! Don"t be afraid--it"s hardly dusk yet."
Githa led the way along an overgrown little path among the bushes. In a corner of the churchyard, overshadowed by thick trees, lay the well, a pool of water about six feet square, with walls like a bath. A few broken pieces of masonry lay about.
"It"s sometimes called the Black Friar"s well," continued Githa, still acting as guide. "He lived during the great Black Death in the reign of Edward III. The church was closed then, because the rector and most of his flock had died of the plague; but one of the Dominican friars used to come from Cressington Abbey and preach in the churchyard to the few people who were left, and baptize the babies in this well. There was a sort of little chapel over it once, but that"s supposed to have tumbled down long before the time of the plague, perhaps even before the church was built."
"What have Sir Ralph and Lady Margaret to do with it? Did they die of the plague?" asked Gwethyn.
"No, that"s quite another story. They lived in the time of the Civil Wars. They were on the side of the King, and after Charles"s execution, Sir Ralph was considered a rebel by the Commonwealth. A troop of Parliamentarian soldiers was sent to arrest him. They stopped at Cressington Abbey, which was then the country house of Sir Guy Meldrum, a Roundhead. His wife, Dame Alice, was cousin to Sir Ralph, and though of course they were on opposite sides, she was anxious to save him. She did not dare to write him a letter, or even to send him a verbal message, but she wrapped a feather in a piece of paper, and made a stable-boy run across the fields with it to Malbury Hall, while she delayed the troopers as long as she could at Cressington. People in those troublous times were very quick at taking hints. Sir Ralph guessed that he had better fly, but the difficulty was where to go. No one would be anxious to receive him, and get into trouble with the Parliament. In desperation he fled to the church, and hid himself in the crypt underneath the chancel. It was a horrible, dark, gruesome place to take refuge in, and of course he needed food while he was there. The troopers had established themselves at Malbury Hall, and kept close watch, but Lady Margaret, his wife, used to steal out at night, and go to visit her husband in the churchyard. It must have been terrible for her to walk there all alone, and she was afraid of being followed by the soldiers.
Her fears were only too well justified. In spite of all her precautions, the captain of the troopers was too clever for her.