But it could not dampen the high spirits of the party at Camp Kill Kare.
They had been so constantly on the go that the little interval of forced inactivity was not after all unwelcome. The girls were able to catch up with neglected bits of sewing. Then there was the library stocked with choice books, and one of the girls read aloud while the others worked.
The boys ensconced themselves in the barn with Joel, where the old backwoodsman regaled them with stories of his adventures in the earlier days when he had been one of the most noted guides in the Adirondack region.
After supper a big wood fire blazed on the open hearth and took the edge from the damp chill that sought to invade the house. The girls furnished music, and boys and girls together sang songs until they were tired.
The girls had been asleep for an hour or more when Cora was awakened by a knocking on the front door.
"Who on earth can that be at this hour of the night?" she wondered, as she raised herself on her elbow to listen.
The knocking continued, and as n.o.body else seemed awake to answer it, Cora slipped out of bed, donned a kimono, and softly woke Bess and Belle.
"What is it?" asked Belle drowsily.
"Go away and let me sleep," murmured Bess, turning over on her pillow.
"There"s somebody knocking at the front door," explained Cora. "I"m going down to see who it is, and I want you girls to go with me."
"It may be a burglar!" exclaimed Belle.
"You might get hurt!" protested Bess, wide awake now.
"Nonsense!" laughed Cora. "Burglars don"t usually announce their coming by knocking at the door. Besides, I"ll find out who it is before I open.
Slip on your kimonos and come along."
They obeyed, not without some inward shrinking.
"Don"t you think you ought to wake the boys?" asked Belle, hesitating on the landing.
"I couldn"t do that without waking the whole house, Aunt Betty and all,"
answered Cora. "Besides, the boys would have the laugh on us and try to patronize us. We don"t want to be looked on as a lot of cowards."
Both of the sisters seemed to be perfectly willing just at that moment to be included in that ignominious category, but they were accustomed to follow where Cora led, and they went down the stairs, their slippered feet making no noise.
The knocking still continued, though it seemed weaker than at first.
Cora, with her lighted bedroom candle in her hand, softly approached the door, which was secured by a double lock and also by a heavy chain.
"Who is there?" she asked.
"Please let me in," came in a woman"s voice from outside.
"Who are you?" Cora repeated.
"Nina," was the answer. "Oh, please let me in!"
Cora unfastened the chain and turned the key, and as she opened the door the gypsy girl staggered into the bungalow.
CHAPTER XXV FALSELY ACCUSED
The Motor Girls caught the gypsy girl as she was about to fall and seated her in a chair.
"You poor, poor thing!" exclaimed Cora.
"Out in this pouring rain!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Belle.
"And drenched to the skin!" added Bess.
The newcomer presented a pitiable appearance. Her gaudy apparel was torn and bedraggled, her wet hair clung about her face, and she was gasping with exhaustion.
"I had to come!" she panted. "I was afraid!"
Cora had formed her plans with quick decision.
"We must keep this to ourselves for to-night, girls," she said in a low voice. "She"d be miserable and embarra.s.sed if the boys should come down.
We"ll tell them all about it to-morrow. The first thing to do is to get her up in our rooms and give her some dry clothes. Then we"ll get her something to eat and drink and put her to bed. She can tell us her story later."
"Oh, you are so good!" exclaimed the gypsy girl, covering her face with her hands.
As quietly as they could, they helped her up the stairs and rummaged in their closets for towels and clothes. Then they all set to work, and in a little while the newcomer was dry and warmly dressed in civilized garments.
She was of about the same size as Cora and Belle, and they had no trouble in fitting her out. Bess would have been equally willing to contribute some of her belongings, but her "plumpness" forbade.
It was astonishing to see the difference wrought in Nina by the a.s.sumption of the garments of ordinary life. She looked in them, as Belle remarked, "to the manner born," and when they had dressed her hair in the way they wore their own, there was little trace of the gypsy left, except her bronzed complexion.
She gave a little cry of feminine delight as they made her look at herself in the mirror.
"Oh, it"s so long since I wore clothes like these!" she murmured.
"And now," said Cora, as she gazed with pleasure on the transformation that had been wrought, "we"ll all go down to the kitchen and see what we can get in the way of something to eat."
They stole downstairs and the girls ransacked the larder. They found plenty of cold meat and bread and preserves. Belle got out a chafing dish and scrambled some eggs, and Cora brewed a pot of fragrant coffee. Bess set the table and they all gathered about it and ate heartily.
The girls thrilled with the romance of it all. The drenching storm, the midnight hour, the gypsy visitor, the feeling that they were involved in a mystery made them tingle. Then, too, the knowledge that all this was taking place while the other occupants of the house were unconscious of it gave a touch of the surrept.i.tious and the clandestine that was not without its charm.
The gypsy girl of course was somewhat self-conscious, as she could not help being under the peculiar circ.u.mstances, but the girls noticed that her table manners were good, and they were more and more confirmed in their conviction that she was not what her dress and surroundings had made her appear.
She spoke mostly in monosyllables and only when addressed, and every once in a while they could see the look of anxiety and fear come into her eyes that they had noted the day before.
"Well," said Cora at last, when they had finished sipping their coffee, "I guess we"d better get up to bed. You need a good night"s rest," she continued, addressing their guest, "and we"ll fix you up a bed in our rooms. In the morning you will be in better shape to tell us all you care to."
"But you ought to know all about me before you do that," replied Nina.
"It isn"t fair to you. Perhaps after you have heard why I came you may regret taking me in."