SIR RICHARD TELLS DICK OF THE SECRET PASSAGE
IT was an intensely hot day in July, and Sir Richard Gidley was
taking his after luncheon nap in his favourite high-backed chair
in the dining-room at the Manor House, his handkerchief spread over
his face to keep the flies from worrying him. Through the low, open
window came the drowsy hum of insects, and the perfume of roses,
mignonette, and stocks; but Sir Richard was unconscious of scent or
sound for the time being, as he was in the land of dreams—not
pleasant dreams, it would seem, for he moved uneasily now and then,
and murmured with evident discontent.
At length an unusual sound came through the open window—a child's
gay laugh, full of merriment and the joy of life. The strange sound
awoke Sir Richard at once. He pulled the handkerchief off his face
and listened, but all was silent.
"I thought I heard some one laughing," he muttered. "I suppose I must
have been dreaming; I fancied it might have been Dick come to see me
at last. Pooh, how my mind dwells on the boy! Three days since I met
him and Miss Warren in the village, and I have neither seen nor heard
of him since! Can the Warrens be purposely keeping him away,
I wonder? No, I do not think they would do that! Ah! there it is
again! I was not mistaken!"
Sir Richard rose hastily and walked to the window. The scene that met
his eyes brought an involuntary smile to his lips. Upon the lawn were
two figures—his grandson and his favourite dog, Nero, a large black
Newfoundland. The dog, seated on his haunches, had his head decorated
with Dick's broad-brimmed sailor's hat, whilst the little boy knelt
at his side laughing. Usually, Nero brooked no interference from
strangers; but for some reason, he alone knew what, he had taken a
great fancy to Dick, and was allowing him more license than he gave
other people.
"Halloa!" cried Sir Richard, stepping into the garden; "have you and
Nero become playfellows?"
Dick sprang to his feet at the sound of his grandfather's voice, and
drawing his slight form to its fullest height, gravely raised his
hand in a military salute; then he took his hat from Nero's head, and
hurried to meet Sir Richard, whilst the dog followed at his heels.
"Yes," he replied gaily; "we have made friends with each other. How
do you do, grandfather? I came alone—that is, from the
lodge—Uncle Theophilus left me there. I said I could find my way
to the house!"
"Have you just arrived?" Sir Richard asked.
"Oh, no; I have been here quite a long while! I did not go to the
door, though; I peeped into the window there, and saw you with a
handkerchief over your face, and guessed you were asleep. I thought
I had better not disturb you; so I was going to wait quietly till you
woke up, but Nero came round the corner of the house, and I have been
playing with him. What a jolly dog he is, grandfather!"
"Yes; but I did not know he cared for children. Were you not afraid
of him?"
"No, indeed! I spoke to him, and he came to me at once, wagging his
tail. I held out the back of my hand to him, like I've seen father
do to strange dogs. He sniffed at it, and then gave it a lick. I knew
he was all right as soon as he did that."
Dick put one arm around the great dog's neck, whereupon the beautiful
creature turned his eyes upon him affectionately.
"There, grandfather!" cried the little boy delightedly. "Can't you
see he likes me? Look at the smile in his eyes! What lovely eyes
he has too—just the colour of the amber necklace my ayah used to
wear! Oh, you dear Nero!"
Sir Richard sat down upon a garden seat, and Dick took a place by his
side, whilst Nero laid his head on his new friend's knee, and watched
him intently with his amber eyes.
"So you had no difficulty in finding your way from the lodge," Sir
Richard said. "I was beginning to think Dr. Warren and his sister
meant to keep you to themselves. You have been in no hurry to come
and see me!"
"Did you expect me before?" Dick questioned in surprise. "Of course
I would have come if I had known that! But I've really been awfully
busy these last few days!"
"Indeed! What have you been doing?"
"Helping Aunt Mary Ann in the garden for one thing, washing the
insects off the roses, and tying up the carnations. Oh, by the way,
we have three bantam chicks! They were only hatched out yesterday;
and we were so anxious about them! Aunt Mary Ann half thought one egg
was addled; but it wasn't—the chick was hatched out all right after
all, though it's not nearly so strong as the other two. You don't
keep bantams, do you?"
"No; I do not," Sir Richard responded, amused at his grandson's
chatter. "What else has occupied your time?"
"Oh, I've written to mother and father. I began the letter days ago
and finished it last night. Uncle Theophilus helped me with the
spelling—he wrote too. And oh, grandfather, I've not seen you since
I heard from India, have I?"
"No."
"I've had such a beautiful letter from mother, and a few words from
father at the end just what he always says, you know."
"What does he always say?" Sir Richard asked curiously, his eyes
fixed, on the boy's changing countenance, which quivered with
suppressed emotion as he spoke of his parents.
"Be a brave boy! God bless you!" Dick quoted in husky tones. He
passed the back of his hand hastily over his eyes, but could not
repress a sigh that sounded almost like a sob. He set his teeth,
and determined he would not cry if he could possibly help it;
his grandfather would think him such a baby!
"Are Dr. Warren and his sister kind to you?" the old man inquired
abruptly.
"Oh, yes," Dick replied eagerly; "indeed they are! They are kind as
kind can be! You see," he continued confidentially, "they took care
of mother when she was a little girl, and now they are going to take
care of me till mother and father come home."
"They are very worthy people, no doubt!" Sir Richard remarked drily.
Dick scanned his grandfather's face with puzzled eyes; for he did not
understand his tone, although it annoyed him somehow. He flushed,
and turned his head aside, whilst he wondered if it was possible
Sir Richard did not like Aunt Mary Ann and Uncle Theophilus. But it
was not in his nature to be silent long, so presently he re-opened
the conversation.
"This is a beautiful place," he remarked, glancing around him
admiringly; "but I should think you must feel very lonely here,
all by yourself, don't you, grandfather?"
"It is dull sometimes," Sir Richard acknowledged. "I do not get many
visitors. In August I suppose my daughter and her children will come
here for a month—your Aunt Arabella—Mrs. Compton—and your
cousins, Ruth and Lionel. Ruth is about your age, Lionel a year or so
older. I hope you will make friends with them."
"I did not know I had any cousins," Dick replied; "but I am very
glad." He was smiling with pleasure at the thought of meeting these
relations of his. "And I am very glad one is a boy!" he added.
"They tell me Ruth is a perfect hoyden," Sir Richard proceeded,
"and Lionel a domineering, high-spirited boy. But they do not
interfere with me when they are here; their mother manages to keep
them in order whilst in my presence, at any rate, though Susan
Morecombe declares she spoils them. I hope you will see as much of
your cousins as you can; the society of children about your own age
will be beneficial for you. Mind you hold your own with Lionel; and
remember you have as much right—nay, more right—in this house
than he has."
Dick looked decidedly mystified, seeing which, his grandfather
explained what he meant.
"This will be your home one day," he said earnestly; "your father
will inherit the property from me, and you will inherit it from him.
Look around and try to think what that means. Everything you see will
one day belong to you. You will be the master here."
Dick did not appear so greatly impressed with this information as his
grandfather thought he would be. He sat silently turning the matter
over in his young mind, growing more and more puzzled.
"Well," cried Sir Richard at length, rather testily. "Are you not
pleased? I should have thought you would have been delighted at the
idea of being a person of some importance. To think that your father
has brought you up in ignorance of your true position! And yet he
always professed to love his home! I have heard him say there was no
place so dear to him as the Manor House! I remember when he was a
little lad no bigger than you, he used to find endless amusement
in looking for the secret passage, and—"
"What is that?" Dick asked, his face showing greater interest than it
had done when his grandfather had tried to raise his enthusiasm
in his prospects in life.
"There is said to be a tunnel—a secret passage—leading from this
house to the sea-shore," Sir Richard explained. "It may have been
made at the time the house was built, or later, during the civil wars
when the Gidleys sided with the king. There is a very aged man living
in the village called Granfer Cole, who has often told me he
remembers when he was a boy hearing his father speak of the secret
passage—it was then used by smugglers for the concealment
of contraband goods."
"What are contraband goods?" Dick asked.
"Goods brought from foreign countries which have never had taxes paid
on them. A hundred years ago a great deal of smuggling was carried on
along this coast; silk, wine, brandy, and many other commodities were
landed here by stealth under cover of darkness, in order to escape
payment of the custom-house duties. That was cheating the revenue;
but even gentlemen then were not above lending a helping hand to do
that, and the master of this house was doubtless among those who
deliberately winked at the smuggler's doings. The secret passage must
have been a capital place of concealment for the smugglers and their
treasures. Granfer Cole says he can remember the time when there was
not a household in Holton, however humble, but kept a supply of best
French brandy; it was obtained at a cheap rate, for every one was
hand and glove with the smugglers."
"Were smugglers good sort of men?" Dick inquired.
Sir Richard smiled sarcastically, and shook his head as he
replied:—
"They were neither honest nor law-abiding, but they were a daring
lot, and had many sympathisers even among the higher classes."
"But if they were not honest, how was it people liked them?" Then as
Sir Richard made no reply, Dick exclaimed: "How I should like to see
that secret passage! Haven't you the least idea where it is,
grandfather?"
"Not the very least! I have no doubt the entrance to the passage from
the sea-shore has become blocked by stones and rubble; I have no clue
to the other entrance either—many and many a time I have tried
to think where it can possibly be, and your father used to be
continually searching the floors and walls of the cellars beneath the
house, hoping to find the entrance there, but all to no purpose. If
there is a passage, and I believe there is, it must be more than
half a mile in length!"
"Oh, what a wonderful place this is!" Dick cried excitedly. "May I
tell Aunt Mary Ann and Uncle Theophilus about the secret passage when
I go home?"
"Certainly," Sir Richard replied carelessly, "though I daresay they
know as much about it as I do! By the way, is Dr. Warren going to
fetch you, or will he expect me to send you home?"
"Oh, Uncle Theophilus said he would fetch me about seven o'clock!
May I see the picture-gallery before I go, grandfather?"
"Yes. Go into the house and find Susan Morecombe. Tell her to get tea
ready in the dining-room. You can wander where you please about the
house, as long as you do not get into mischief."
Dick thanked his grandfather, and went off in search of Susan
Morecombe, entering the house by the dining-room window. Nero
followed him, whilst Sir Richard remained seated on the garden seat
a little longer. The old man felt in a decidedly better humour since
his visitor had arrived. It had gratified him to see how deeply
interested Dick had been in their conversation, though he was
somewhat disappointed that the boy had evinced no great pleasure
at learning he would one day be the owner of the Manor House.
Certainly his would be a goodly heritage! Pride and satisfaction
mingled in Sir Richard's heart as he glanced around him at the
ancient house, and the fair landscape which stretched before it.
He was better pleased with his grandson than he had been on that day
when he had met him for the first time in the doctor's drawing-room;
then, he had seen only a small, pale-faced boy; now, he recognised
the brave spirit which animated the fragile form, and was more
satisfied.
Meanwhile Dick, in company with Susan Morecombe, was paying his
second visit to the picture-gallery, asking dozens of questions, and
receiving much information in return. Then he had a splendid tea
of raspberries and cream, and another talk with his grandfather
before Dr. Warren arrived in his gig to take him away.
"Come again! Come when you like!" Sir Richard said to Dick after he
had exchanged a few words with the doctor.
"Oh, thank you!" the little boy replied, thinking how much pleasanter
his grandfather seemed to-day than on the occasion of his first visit
to the Manor House. "I have enjoyed myself so much! May I come again
soon?"
"Yes," the old man nodded, looking gratified. He turned to
Dr. Warren, and added: "The child appears brighter and stronger
already!"
"Ah, the scaffolding is sound enough," the doctor returned quaintly;
"there's a good frame-work to build upon; we'll soon put a little
flesh on his bones!"
Sir Richard watched the gig as it slowly disappeared from sight,
Firefly taking his time as usual. At that moment he almost wished he
had consented to make a home for his grandson at the Manor House;
he felt lonely now he was gone. Nero came and poked his cold, damp
nose into his master's hand, and looked up into the old man's face
with his expressive eyes.
"Are you sorry your playfellow has left?" said Sir Richard, as he
gently patted his favourite's head. "Would you, too, have liked him
to remain? Never mind, Nero, he will come again!"