A BELATED DISCOVERY AND A SOLEMN
CONCLAVE
During the month following Alexander's researches into history, no
further progress was made in solving the mystery that absorbed the
Antiquarian Club. The Christmas holidays came and went, and the severer
winter weather held the city in such a grip that often, for days on
a stretch, Margaret could not be wheeled out in her chair. Under the
combined strain of confinement to the house and lack of any further
stimulating excitement, she grew very restless and just a wee bit
unhappy. The girls and Alexander were very busy with their midwinter
examinations, and could not give much time to other interests, even
such absorbing ones as the long-ago Alison and her fate.
But, with the beginning of February, matters improved. The weather
moderated, to begin with, the sun shone daily, and Margaret could again
enjoy her outing of an hour in the sunny part of each early afternoon.
The others also, released from the grind of much study and "cramming
for exams," had leisure at last to give to the club-meetings, which
they now held regularly three times a week. Alexander was not always
with them, for the claims of hockey and skating and coasting often
proved too much for his boyish soul to resist. But, for the most part,
he managed to be on hand at least once a week, for his interest in the
mystery was still very great.
They grew into the habit of reporting, at these meetings, any even
slight discoveries they had happened to make, in their reading or in
any other manner, that had the slightest bearing on the subject. Thus,
Corinne contributed the following, that she had gleaned in looking over
a history of New York City: in referring to Abraham Mortier, some one
had once remarked that the expression "Laugh and grow fat!" did not
apply to him, since, although he was very jolly, he was so thin that
the wind could blow him away!
"That's interesting, but of course it doesn't help _us_ much!" Corinne
added apologetically. "But I thought anything about the Mortiers
would be well to know. I'll warrant Madame Mortier was just the
opposite—very fat and solemn!"
Alexander contributed the information that Thomas Hickey was hanged at
a spot about where the corner of Grand Street and the Bowery is now.
And so deep was his interest in this gruesome affair that he even made
an excursion across the city one afternoon to visit the site!
Margaret found a description of Richmond Hill, written by Mrs. John
Adams during her residence there, in which she described at much length
the beauty and attractiveness of the spot. Only the twins, who read
but little, made no additions to the stock of information. This they
apologized for by saying that they were no hand at such things, and
about everything had been discovered already, anyhow!
Then Corinne invented another form of entertainment. This was that
each member of the Antiquarian Club should, after due thought and
consideration, invent an explanation of his or her own for the curious
break in Alison's journal and her probable fate. The game proved an
exceedingly diverting one, and every member took a separate meeting
and expounded the particular solution that appealed to his or her
imagination.
Corinne herself wove a romantic tale about Alison's having been
captured that very night by the steward and Corbie while she was
writing, how they carried her off, journal and all, and later fought
over her book and tore it in two; how Alison was rescued by the
mysterious "H." just in the nick of time, and was taken away to
Bermuda to marry him and live happily ever after! But the mystery of
the two halves of the journal and their strange hiding-places and the
whereabouts of the sapphire signet she admitted she couldn't explain
and didn't try to!
Alexander invented a lurid tale of Thomas Hickey discovering Alison
in the act of writing her journal, tearing it in two in snatching it
from her, and retaining the latter half. Phœbe then helped Alison to
escape with her trunk and the other half and embark on some vessel
that was later overhauled by pirates and scuttled, and Alison was made
to "walk the plank"! This horrible ending so affected Margaret that
she cried herself almost sick over it. And Alexander thereat was so
conscience-stricken that he determined henceforth to keep his inventive
powers under better control.
Margaret herself advanced the theory that, for some reason, Alison and
Phœbe suddenly determined to tear the journal in two and each keep half
of it as evidence in case anything should go amiss. That Phœbe hid her
half in the beam, and Alison put hers in the trunk. Then they went and
denounced the plot to Washington, and he was so grateful that he sent
Alison right home to Bermuda, where she lived happily, having taken
the signet with her, and giving away the trunk to some relative and
forgetting all about the journal in the bottom. It was the relative
who was shipwrecked and abandoned the trunk!
Again the twins, who had no gift of imagination, refused to offer
any solution, though they were highly interested in the tales of the
others. They both declared that they could think of absolutely no
explanation, so what was the use of their trying? And on these grounds
the others excused them. So the month passed, and then one day Margaret
announced that she herself had made a discovery, and proceeded to tell
of it.
"It all came about through Sarah wanting to wheel me over through
Macdougal Street to-day and down Spring Street, because she had an
important errand there. You know we _never_ go through Macdougal
Street, because it's so narrow and not nearly as nice and clean and
sunny as our own and Varick Street. I actually don't think I've been
over that way for three or four years! Well, just as we were passing
a house between this block and Van Dam, I looked up at it, and what
do you think I saw?—the brass sign near the front door—"Richmond
Hill House"! I couldn't imagine for a moment what it meant. But I
asked Sarah if she knew what the place was, and she said it was a
settlement-house, with a day-nursery and clubs for the children and
things like that in it.
"I asked why it was called that name, and she said she didn't
know—thought it was a silly one and didn't mean anything. But _I_
knew—though I didn't say so! Somebody who knows about history has
called it that because it stands almost on the grounds where Richmond
Hill used to be. But oh, girls! think how much trouble and wondering
and hunting it would have saved us, if we'd only known about that house
at first! It would have suggested the thing to us right away!"
"Huh!" remarked Alexander, disgustedly. "_I_ knew about that old joint
right along—ever since I lived here! _I_ could have told you a thing
or two, if you'd only consulted yours truly sooner!"
"Well, never mind!" said Corinne, soothingly. "Maybe we _did_ get at
things in a roundabout, clumsy fashion; but we got there, just the
same, and we had a good time doing it, too! But now I've something
brand-new to say, and I want you all to listen very attentively. This
is a matter that needs a lot of careful consideration. We've about come
to the end of our rope, as far as making any further progress with this
mystery is concerned. We've been having a lot of fun and entertainment
out of it, of course, with these stories of our own, and all that sort
of thing. But we're not 'getting any forrarder,' as Dickens says; and
do you know, I'm beginning to think that perhaps we're not doing just
right in keeping this all to ourselves!"
Here Margaret started and gave her a reproachful look. Corinne put an
arm over the invalid girl's shoulder and continued:
"Honey dear, I know you think I'm playing the traitor, and trying to
spoil our delightful secret society, but I'm really not; and if you'll
hear me to the end, I believe you'll feel the same as I do. I've been
doing a lot of hard thinking about this matter lately. Perhaps you
haven't realized it, but I am certain that this old journal we've found
is really a very valuable thing—not only valuable in the way of money
(for many people would pay a great deal for a genuine old document like
this), but also in the way of historical information. We're keeping to
ourselves something that might really throw light on the past history
of our city.
"Now, of course, I'm not _certain_ about this, but I'd like to have the
opinion of some grown person who really knows. And I've thought of a
plan by which we could do this, and at the same time keep our secret
society _almost_ the same as it is now. It's this: I would like you
all—and especially Margaret—to consent to my telling my father all
about this, and, if he is willing (and I'm certain he will be), we can
let him become a member of our Antiquarian Club. In that way, you see,
we won't be breaking up our society—we will just be adding another
member!"
"But he's a _grown_ person!" objected Margaret, trying hard to keep the
tears from rising. "And he wouldn't care a _bit_ about a thing like
this! And we'd feel so strange and—and awkward to have an older person
in it!"
"Oh, but you don't _know_ my father!" laughed Corinne. "To be sure,
he's a _grown_ person, but I never met any one who was more like a
_boy_ in his manner and interests and sympathies! Why, he's actually
more _boyish_ than lots of the young fellows in high school. He is
deeply interested in young folks and their affairs; and if he weren't
such an awfully busy man, he'd spend most of his time being with them.
He and I are _such_ chums! You ought to see us together when he's away
on a vacation! He romps around with me as though he were only sixteen,
and everything that interests me just absorbs him too. I believe you've
thought, because I said he loved books and history and _old_ things,
that he's a regular old fogey that goes around stoop-shouldered and
spectacled! He isn't a bit like that!"
"I got you, Steve!" ejaculated Alexander. "He must be _some_ good
sport! I vote we ring him in on this!"
Margaret, however, still looked only half convinced.
"But, if he's so busy," she ventured, "I don't see how he's ever going
to find time to attend these meetings—even if he wanted to!"
"Of course," Corinne responded, "it would be impossible for him to get
to our meetings, as a rule, but I know that he would be glad to hear
all about them from me, and sometimes, on holidays, he'd be delighted
to just get together with us all. And, what's more, I know he'd always
have some interesting thing that he'd propose doing—something probably
that we've never thought of!"
Margaret had, by this time, almost completely melted, but she had one
further objection to offer:
"But, Corinne, he doesn't _know_ us—not a thing about us, and he'd
feel awfully strange and queer too, getting acquainted with a lot of
brand-new young folks he's never even heard of before!"
And again Corinne had her answer, even for this.
"Wrong again, Honey!" she laughed. "Talk about his not _knowing
anything_ about you! Well, do you suppose for one wild minute that
I've never told him about these loveliest friends I ever had? Why,
every evening he and I talk for at least a couple of hours about every
blessed thing that interests us. I've given him your whole history,
described you all in every detail, told him how much I come here, and
that we had an important secret society. The only thing I _haven't_
told him is the secret! But I've done something else that I hope you
won't mind—I've let him know that I was very anxious to have him
admitted as a member, and that the secret was something he'd probably
find _very_ interesting. And, do you know, he's just crazy to be
allowed in it, and is only waiting for the time when I'll come home
some day bringing him the high permission of its dear president!"
Then, at last, did Margaret capitulate. How, indeed, could she hold out
after having been presented with such an alluring picture of the latest
member-to-be! Truth to tell, the desire was awakened in her heart
to meet this delightful father, who was so young in spirit that his
daughter considered him a "chum"! She gave her full consent that he was
to be told everything that night, and Corinne departed in high feather.
When she had gone, Margaret turned to the rest.
"It must be lovely," she sighed, "to have a father like that!"