The Manor House School Part 7

Would n.o.body ever arrive to release them? The minutes seemed long as hours, and they felt as if their trembling knees could scarcely support them. Cicely, from the place where she was standing, could fortunately look through the window and command a view of the field below. Though she gazed with as keen anxiety as Sister Anne in the story of Bluebeard, she did not see anybody hurrying to their rescue. The dog apparently grew a little tired, for it threw itself down on the floor, but without relaxing any of its former vigilance.

"I believe it's going to stop here all night," groaned Cicely, almost in tears.

The case was waxing desperate. So weary were the poor girls that they were ready to drop with fatigue. Unless something happened, and that speedily, there was bound to be a catastrophe. At the moment, however, when Cicely felt that she simply could not endure any longer, deliverance came. Through the little squares of the wooden lattice she saw a figure strolling leisurely across the field. It was Monica Courtenay, and she was walking in the direction of the farm. Cicely shouted at the very pitch of her voice:

"Monica! Monica! Help! Oh, do come!"

Monica stopped in much astonishment, and looked round as if to ask who was calling her by name; then, deciding that the screams came from the direction of the granary, she hurried as fast as she could up the steps, and opened the door. Her amazement was only equalled by her distress at the girls' plight.

She did her best to call off the dog, but as that proved impossible she ran to fetch the first person she could find. In less than a minute she had returned with Mr. Brand, whose stout boot and stick soon sent the collie yelping disconsolately into a corner, to realize that it had exceeded its duties.

"He's a good watchdog, is Pincher," said the farmer, "but he's been a bit too clever to-day. You silly hound! You ought to know better than to set on two young wenches. You may well slink off! You'd better keep out of reach of my stick, I can tell you!"

Lindsay and Cicely were much upset and shaken by their terrifying experience. They never forgot how kindly and considerately Monica behaved. She did not tell them it was their own fault, and that it served them right for prying into places where they had no business (as Mildred Roper or any of the other monitresses would certainly have done); she only sympathized in her gentle way, and offered to escort them to the Manor by a short cut, so that they should not be so very late after all.

"It was a lucky thing I happened to be taking a walk this way," she said. "It might have been hours before any of the farm people went into the granary. I wouldn't keep such a savage dog if it were mine."

As Lindsay supposed, Miss Frazer was not aware that she had left two of her pupils behind at Monkend, and imagined that the missing pair must have walked home in front of the others. Their absence had only just been discovered when they arrived to explain the cause. The teacher was hardly so tender with them as Monica, and they received more scolding than sympathy.

"Though it wasn't such a very dreadful crime to go into the barn," said Lindsay afterwards to her companion in misfortune. "Miss Frazer needn't say we are the two who are always in mischief, because it might have happened just as easily to any of the others. I saw Beryl and Effie peep into the cowhouse as they pa.s.sed, though they didn't climb up a ladder.

Wasn't Monica nice? I believe the old farmer would have been cross with us if she hadn't been there. He evidently knows her very well. So do all the people in the village. She seems to know each man, woman, and child there, and to be a favourite with everybody."

CHAPTER V

An Unexpected Development

Lindsay and Cicely had by no means forgotten either their quest for the treasure or their curiosity about the lantern chamber. In spite of several small efforts, nothing fresh had occurred to elucidate matters, and they were almost beginning to despair of ever making any further progress, when quite unexpectedly something important happened.

One afternoon, as they were sending tennis b.a.l.l.s to each other along the terrace, they heard a voice calling to them from overhead. They looked up, and saw Merle Hammond, a second-form girl, leaning out of one of the upper windows of the house and beckoning to them violently.

"Lindsay and Cicely, is that you?" she cried. "Come up here; I've made such a discovery!"

"Where are you?" asked Cicely, for the old Manor had so many windows, it was impossible to identify any particular one from the outside.

"In a room up a funny winding staircase, on the top landing. It's empty, but there's a big kind of lamp hanging from the ceiling. Oh, you'll never guess what I've seen!"

"The lantern chamber!" gasped both the girls, and, dropping their rackets, they raced into the house in a state of the wildest excitement.

Were they actually on the brink of solving the mystery? How had Merle found it out? It was good of her to call to them. Had she accidentally come across the hiding-place? or was it some other secret still?

The answer to all these questions lay in that attic room, and they fled upstairs as if their feet were wings.

They were halfway along the pa.s.sage, and a few seconds more would have seen them safely on the top landing, when (oh, the bad luck of it!) they almost knocked down Miss Frazer, who emerged at exactly the wrong moment from her own bedroom door.

"Gently, girls, gently!" she remonstrated. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

It was impossible to explain. How could they tell the teacher the nature of their errand? They both stood still, looking very "caught" and dismayed, and said nothing.

"As you have come indoors so early, you had better tidy your drawers,"

continued Miss Frazer dryly. "I looked at them just now, and found them in terrible disorder. You will have nice time to do it before tea."

Could anything have been more aggravating? The poor girls were nearly crying with vexation. There was no appeal, however. Miss Frazer escorted them into their bedroom, and stood over them, giving directions, until each pair of stockings or pocket-handkerchief was disposed according to her ideas of neatness. They might chafe and fret inwardly at the delay, but outwardly they were obliged to behave with due decorum.

The governess was certainly justified in her disapproval, for Cicely's best coat and hat were lying jumbled together at the bottom of the wardrobe, and Lindsay's belongings looked as if they had been stirred up with a stick.

"If I notice any of your places in such a condition again, I shall be obliged to give you each a punishment," she said gravely. "Wash your hands now, and comb your hair. There's the first bell."

Would Miss Frazer never leave them alone? If only she would take her departure at once, they could perhaps manage to rush up to the lantern room before the second bell rang. Merle must be waiting for them, and wondering why they did not come. And the secret was waiting too! Lindsay looked at Cicely, almost meditating a bolt. Possibly the mistress read her intention in her face; at any rate, she waited until both were ready, then marched them downstairs to the dining-room like a female policeman, without giving them the slightest chance to escape.

"Of all jolly sells this is the biggest!" whispered Cicely.

"I wish Miss Frazer had been at the bottom of the sea!" groaned Lindsay.

Merle came in rather late and took her place at table, looking a little red and self-conscious. Lindsay tried to meet her eyes, but she avoided the gaze, and went on stolidly with her bread and b.u.t.ter as if nothing had happened. When Cicely made a like effort she fared the same. What had Merle seen? How they longed for tea to be over, that they might hear of her discovery! They hoped she would not reveal it to any of the other girls first, and they looked on in quite a fever of anxiety whenever she spoke to Elsie Ryder or Marjorie Butler, who sat one on either side of her.

"She doesn't know what we suspect about Mrs. Wilson," whispered Lindsay.

"She may be letting out something it would be far better, for Monica's sake, not to tell."

The moment the meal was finished the two girls followed Merle into the garden, but, greatly to their surprise, she took no notice of them, and began to play tennis.

"I expect she's waiting for a safer time. Of course it wouldn't do for her to be seen talking to us so particularly. We'll stay here while she finishes her set," said Cicely.

The game lasted until preparation, and then Merle walked away with such an evident intention of escaping from them that the two were most indignant.

"What does she mean?" burst out Lindsay.

"Do you think she's offended because we didn't go up at once?" returned Cicely. "She doesn't know yet that Miss Frazer stopped us. We must explain it as soon as we can."

They tried to get hold of Merle after supper, but she kept persistently to Elsie Ryder's company, and would not give them any opportunity of speaking to her in private, so they were obliged to go to bed in a horrible state of suspense. Next morning things were just as bad. There was no mistaking the fact that Merle wished to avoid them, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that they succeeded at last in catching her alone.

"What do you want?" she enquired abruptly. "Please don't go chasing me about like this all over the school."

"We want to know what you saw in the lantern room, of course," replied Lindsay.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I can't tell you."

"Not tell us!"

Lindsay and Cicely could scarcely believe the evidence of their own ears.

"No, it's quite impossible."

"But why?"