Mr. Pat's Little Girl Part 23

The Arden Foresters found the summer days none too long. They still met Celia in the arbor now and then; and it was her stories of the Gilpin house, of the ring and the spinet, together with the constant sight of the closed shutters and doors, that led to an adventure one warm August day.

"Important meeting at the oak tree this afternoon,--a discovery!" was the startling announcement Rosalind found within the gra.s.s-tied missive on the cedar when she returned from a drive with her uncle one morning. She could hardly eat her luncheon for eagerness to know what the discovery might be, and the sound of Maurice's low whistle further upset her.

Mrs. Whittredge was rigid where table manners were concerned. Rosalind might not be excused until every one had finished; and to-day Uncle Allan dallied over his dessert, discussing business and the new mills with his mother, while Rosalind's impatience grew.

She looked up despairingly at the stern countenance of Great-uncle Allan, and then at the placid smile of his Matilda, which seemed a rebuke to her restlessness. "I wonder what you did with your satin dress?" she suddenly remarked aloud.

Grandmamma turned toward her in surprise, and Allan, deep in a description of the manufacture of a new kind of paper, looked at her blankly.

"Do you think it is polite to interrupt?" asked Mrs. Whittredge.

"I beg your pardon, Uncle Allan, I was just thinking. I did not mean to say it out loud," Rosalind explained, in great contrition.

"Evidently you were not interested in my learned discourse," he said, with a terrible frown, which was not at all alarming.

The diversion, however, caused him to remember his pudding, and in a few minutes Rosalind was free to join Maurice and Katherine at the gate.

Belle, who had called the meeting, was waiting for them at the top of the hill.

"I thought you were never coming," she cried; "we have made such a discovery!" And as they walked toward the house she explained that her mother had sent her that morning with a message to Miss Celia, and not finding her at home, she and Jack, who was with her, went over to the Gilpin place to wait. As they wandered about the grounds, something put it into Jack's head to try one of the cobwebby cellar windows, and lo! it opened. Poking their heads in, they saw it was over a stairway, which could be easily reached by walking a few feet on a ledge of stone.

Delighted with the discovery, they scrambled in, and making their way up the steps found the door at the top unbolted.

"Jack opened it and peeped into the hall, and then we were as scared as anything, and ran, and oh! we had such a time getting out. Now, what do you think of it? We can look for the ring really!" Belle paused, out of breath.

"What fun!" cried Rosalind.

"Just what we have been wishing for," added Maurice. "I have been trying to think how we could get in."

Katherine was the only one who was not enthusiastic over the adventure.

She hung back a little and wanted to know what Belle had been afraid of.

"Oh, I don't know. It was so dark, and mysterious, and creepy; but it was such fun!"

"We shan't mind if we are all together," said Rosalind, rea.s.suringly.

"We'll pretend we are storming a castle to rescue somebody."

If it occurred to any of them that it might not be exactly right to break into a closed house in this fashion, the idea was quickly dismissed.

Jack was watching for them, sprawled at his ease on the gra.s.s by the window. He was rather proud of having been the discoverer of it.

In the heart of the country it could hardly have been quieter than it was in the Gilpin grounds that afternoon. Now and then some vehicle could be heard going up or down the hill, or the whistle of a ca.n.a.l-boat broke in upon the drowsy droning hum that was part of the summer stillness. There was no one to interfere. Even if Celia brought her work to the arbor, it was on the other side of the house, out of sight and hearing.

The first obstacle the expedition encountered was the impossibility of Maurice's getting through to the stairway with his crutch. It was plain that it was out of the question, yet it was terribly hard to give up.

There was a spice of daring in the adventure that appealed to him. For a moment he had a most uncomfortable sensation in his throat; and the old pettishness returned as he thundered at Katherine, in response to her reiterated, "You mustn't do it, Maurice," "I wish you'd hush. I know what I can do!"

"We are dreadfully sorry, Maurice, but you can keep watch and give the alarm if any one comes," said Belle.

Rosalind's oak leaf, as she stood before him, recalled him, and suggested that here was a hard thing to be bravely borne.

"Go on," he said; "I'll wait for you here. I don't mind." His tone was almost cheerful. His ill temper came near getting the better of him however, when Katherine insisted upon staying too. Katherine couldn't understand that people sometimes did not want to be pitied; and she was not very anxious, if the truth were known, to join the exploring party.

There was no way of escape for her. The others were too urgent, and Maurice did not want her.

"There is an imprisoned maiden in the tower, and we are going to rescue her." As she spoke Rosalind pointed to the garret window.

"What fun! Come on," cried Belle.

Jack had already wriggled in.

"It is rather dusty, isn't it?" Rosalind peeped in at the cobwebs doubtfully, but the thought of the imprisoned maiden overcame her dislike to dust. "Her name is Patricia," she paused on the sill to say.

"And we are going to release her and restore her ring, which a wicked magician has turned into lead," added Belle, with sudden inspiration.

"Why, Belle, I never thought of that. Perhaps it is the reason n.o.body can find it," laughed Rosalind, taking one step on the ledge and giving a little shriek of dismay.

"You won't fall. Give me your hand," commanded Jack, with masculine confidence.

The damp gloom of the cellar was rather frightful after the bright sunshine outside. No wonder Katherine crowded close to Belle and their voices sank to awed whispers. It was a relief to step out into the hall above, where the fanlight over the door made it seem less grewsome. The dust lay thick on the Chippendale table and chairs, and from its corner the tall clock looked down on them solemn and voiceless. There was no denying that it was scary, as Belle expressed it. What light there was seemed unreal, and the closed rooms when they peeped in were cheerless and ghostly.

They stole about on tiptoe, keeping close together and talking in low tones. The library, where old Mr. Gilpin had been found unconscious and where the ring had last been seen, was the most ghostly of all. Belle paused on the threshold.

"Let's go upstairs," she suggested. As she spoke she saw on the floor at her feet a ring of some dull metal, such as is used on light curtain-rods, but under the circ.u.mstances there was something a little startling in its being there.

Jack seized it, "Here is Patricia's ring!" he cried.

"Oh, Jack, hush!" whispered Belle, as his voice woke a hundred lonely echoes.

"I'll tell you; let's take it to the magician--our magician--and ask him to break the spell," said Rosalind.

"Oh, I wish you wouldn't talk so," entreated Katherine. "It makes me feel as if it were true."

It was plain that n.o.body wished to be last on the way upstairs, nor was the post of leader very ardently desired, so they settled it by crowding up four abreast. In the rooms above they breathed more freely, and grew bolder as they wandered about, recognizing things Celia had described.

"Do come here," called Belle, from a small room, hardly more than a closet, which opened from one of the bed chambers, "and see this funny picture."

There was one window in this room, and the outside shutters had round openings near the top through which the light came. The others looked at the print, and then Rosalind returned to a work-table that pleased her fancy, Katherine following her. As Belle lingered, Jack, in a spirit of mischief, suddenly pulled the door to.

"Jack! Jack! please let me out," she cried.

"Why don't you come out, goosie?"

"You have locked the door. Please, Jack!"

"It isn't locked," Jack insisted, but when he tried to open it he found the k.n.o.b immovable.

"Maybe it is a dead latch," suggested Rosalind. "He is trying, Belle, really."

"Are you sure you can't open it from the inside?" Jack asked anxiously.