Chatterbox, 1905 Part 109

'I do not mean to. We will wait at Kw.a.n.g-ngan until we get a chance of regaining the idol without being found out.'

A little later Ping w.a.n.g's cousin arrived at the missionary's house, and was able to give the travellers some valuable information. He had paid a visit to Kw.a.n.g-ngan during the previous week, and had seen Chin Choo on several occasions. One evening as he pa.s.sed Chin Choo's house, he saw--the gate being open--the idol which the mandarin had stolen from Ping w.a.n.g's father, standing in the front room nearest the road.

To discover the room in which Chin Choo kept his stolen idol, Ping w.a.n.g had considered the most difficult part of their undertaking, and now that the information had been obtained without any exertion on their part, he felt surer than ever that the jewels would soon be in their possession.

'Our friends are tired,' the senior missionary said to his colleagues, about two hours after dinner, 'so we will have the evening service at once.'

The gong was sounded, and soon the native English-speaking servants filed into the big room in which the Europeans were a.s.sembled. It was long since the Pages had worshipped among their own people, and as they listened to the prayers, and joined in the evening hymn, they felt that this was one of the most peaceful half hours they had ever experienced; and before rising from their knees, they thanked G.o.d, silently but earnestly, for having brought them safely through so many dangers. Then, bidding good-night to their kind hosts, they retired to the large three-bedded room which had been placed at their disposal.

It was their intention to resume their journey early the following morning; but a few hours after they had turned in, Charlie and Fred were awakened by hearing Ping w.a.n.g groaning.

Jumping out of bed they lighted the lamp and looked anxiously at their friend.

'What's the matter, old boy?' Charlie asked, but Ping w.a.n.g evidently did not hear.

'He's unconscious,' Fred said. 'Call Barton, for he knows more about fever than I do.'

Fred soon saw that he had acted wisely in sending for Barton, as the missionary thoroughly understood what it was necessary to do in such cases.

For an hour or so there was, however, no improvement in the patient's condition, and Barton decided to sit up with him.

'No,' Fred said, 'let me sit up. I'm a medical student, and it's my right to look after the patient.'

'Medical students have plenty of pluck, I know,' Barton replied, with a smile, 'but they cannot defy nature with impunity. You are completely f.a.gged out, and if you don't turn in at once I shall have two patients to-morrow instead of one.'

Charlie and Fred were soon sound asleep, and it was not until nine o'clock in the morning that Fred awoke. He relieved Barton at once, and the missionary went away to get a brief rest.

About an hour after Barton had gone out, Ping w.a.n.g awoke, and, to the delight of his two friends, spoke rationally. They forbade him, however, to talk, and told him that the quieter he kept, the quicker would be his recovery. He was an excellent patient, and the result of his obedience was that, in three days, he was able to leave his bed. But his illness left him very weak, and Barton and Fred agreed that it would be dangerous for him to attempt to proceed to Kw.a.n.g-ngan until a fortnight had elapsed. This prolonged delay was, of course, a disappointment to the three travellers, but they enjoyed their stay immensely. When Ping w.a.n.g became strong enough to leave the verandah, Barton took him and the Pages to see his Chinese school. It was a most novel sight; but what pleased the Pages most was to find that Barton was as popular with his Chinese pupils as he had been, a few years previously, with thousands of English schoolboys.

(_Continued on page 334._)

THE HIDDEN ROOM.

'Dreaming again, Millicent, and your hands folded in your lap! Your father would have to go without shirts if it were left to you!'

Millicent Ba.s.set started up from the pleasant rose-covered wall where she had been sitting, and her fair face flushed at her aunt's sharp words.

'Indeed, Aunt Deborah, I am very sorry; but the news from Newbury has driven all other thoughts from my mind. I was wishing I could have been with Antony and Father, instead of being left at home doing nothing while they are fighting.'

'There is no call for you to do nothing,' replied Aunt Deborah dryly, 'while work lies ready to your hand. Take your seam indoors to your chamber, and stir not from it till supper-time. I am going to the village to see the smith's son; I hear he was sore hurt in the fight.'

Millicent rose with a sigh, and carried her work to her room as she was bidden. She turned her back resolutely to the window, and set to work to make up for lost time. A quaint picture she made in the low oak-panelled room, in her grey dress and white kerchief--for her father, Sir James Ba.s.set, was a staunch Roundhead, and so was Dame Deborah, his sister, who had ruled his household since the death of his wife.

These were stirring times. The civil war between the Roundheads and Charles I. was at its height, and two days before, the sound of guns had been distinctly heard at Wootton Ba.s.set, for a battle had been fought at Newbury, and night had fallen before either side could claim the victory. Sir James Ba.s.set and his son had both been fighting, but had escaped unhurt, and had gone on with the Parliamentary army to London, finding means, however, to send a message home about their safety.

Aunt Deborah, with the calmness of a strong nature, after a.s.sembling the family to return thanks for the good news, went quietly on with her usual duties, expecting every one else to do the same; but to Millicent this seemed impossible. How could she be expected to sit and st.i.tch wristbands, when, only six miles away, the sun, shining so quietly in at the window, was looking down on the battlefield? 'Oh, if I had only been a man,' she cried, 'to ride forth instead of being left here!'

Hardly had the words crossed her lips before one of the panels in a dark corner of the room flew back, revealing to her startled eyes a tall youth, whose long curls and the dainty lace ruffles on his torn and stained shirt proved him to be one of those young Cavaliers whom Millicent had often wished to know, but who to Aunt Deborah represented all that was lawless and wicked. She started to her feet in terror. At that moment the presence of her aunt, or even of one of the babies, as she called her nine-year-old twin sisters, would have been a comfort; but the stranger's voice rea.s.sured her.

'Am I speaking to Mistress Millicent Ba.s.set?' he asked with a low bow, which brought the colour to Millicent's face, for few people spoke to her as if she were grown up.

'Yes, I am Millicent Ba.s.set, at your service,' she answered. Then, plucking up her courage, she added, 'How did you come here, and what right have you to take the panel out of the wall?'

A smile pa.s.sed across the young soldier's face. 'Bravely asked,' he said, 'and easily answered had I time; but I must show you something first. Do you recognise that?' and, stepping forward, he laid something on the table beside her.

At that moment hurrying feet and shrill voices were heard in the pa.s.sage. It was the twins. Happily in their eagerness they paused for a moment, disputing which should open the door. Then a strange thing happened. Millicent had turned from the stranger for a moment as the children fumbled at the lock; and when she turned her head again he had vanished, and the panelled wall looked exactly as it had always done.

All that remained to prove that she had not been dreaming was the little packet he had placed on the table.

Millicent quickly placed her sewing on the packet and swept it into her lap before she listened to what the excited little girls had to say.

'See, sister,' cried Alison, holding out her ap.r.o.n to show six little fluffy chickens, 'what my speckled hen has hatched, all unknown to any one. We do not know where to put them. Will you come out and choose a place for them?'

'Nay, children, that I cannot do, for I promised Aunt Deborah to stay here and sew; but I can show you a place from the window. The old dog-kennel yonder would be a good house for the hen and her brood, and you can watch for Aunt Deborah and let her see them when she returns.

Run away now, like good little maidens; the chicks will soon grow cold without their mother, and I have this long seam to st.i.tch before supper.'

The children ran off well pleased, and Millicent was left alone, feeling safe from interruption, for she knew she would be warned of Aunt Deborah's approach by their excited voices. When the door closed behind them, she went softly to it and drew the bolt. Then she took up the mysterious little parcel, and was greatly surprised to find it was a little Testament which belonged to her brother Antony, which he always carried in his pocket. To make sure she opened it, and there on the fly-leaf was his name, 'Antony, from Millicent,' and beneath was written as if in haste: 'I send this by the hand of Ralph de Foulkes; help him as he helped me.'

(_Continued on page 330._)

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'See what my speckled hen has hatched.'"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'I got these easily from the cellar.'"]

THE HIDDEN ROOM.

(_Continued from page 327._)

Millicent sprang to her feet. For the last six months she had added this name to her prayers, for its unknown owner had saved the life of her brother at the battle of Hopton Heath, when his side had been routed, and he--his horse killed under him, and a terrible sword-cut in his arm--had hidden in a little copse, hardly expecting to escape being caught and hung as a rebel.

'He was a slight young fellow, like a girl, with a laughing face and yellow locks hanging on his shoulders. His name was Foulkes, but more than that I had no time to ask or he to answer; had it not been for him I had scarce hoped to see you again, sister,' Antony had said in answer to her eager questions as to what the young man was like; and she had treasured up the description in her heart. And now here he was at her side, for no sooner was she seated than the panel flew back and he stepped into the room.

She held out the little book. 'You are Ralph de Foulkes,' she said, 'and Antony sent you; but I do not know how you have got behind the woodwork, or how you dare come to this house--you, a Royalist! If Aunt Deborah knew!'

Again a smile crossed the young man's face. 'Nay,' he answered, 'but Aunt Deborah must not know. I trust to you, Mistress Millicent; your brother said you would help us.'

'Us!' repeated Millicent in surprise; 'is there then another?--where is he?'

'You know not the secrets of your own house,' answered De Foulkes, and, stepping back, he showed her that a few steps led from the secret door to a small, narrow room, lit only by a grating far up in the wall. It was barely furnished and evidently meant for a hiding-place, as a door at the further end pointed to another way of escape.

She followed her guide down the steps, and when her eyes became accustomed to the gloom, she saw an elderly man, wrapped in torn and stained garments, lying asleep on a low bed in the corner.