AN IRREPARABLE LOSS
The Gregorys' cottage was on fire. While Grace ran back to the house
calling her father, Tom leapt over the fence, ran along the road, and
tore into their garden, where, to his great relief, he at once saw his
mother and the two servants. The girls were weeping and wringing their
hands. Mrs. Gregory looked dazed. 'Thank God that you are all right!'
cried Tom, as he swept past her towards the burning house.
'Come back!' cried his mother. 'I beg you, I command you!' But Tom had
already gone.
The General joined her. 'All right so far!' he said. 'The fire is all
on one side. We may save the cottage yet. How did it happen?' turning
to the shrinking maids.
'I was going to bed,' sobbed one.
'But if I hadn't been up,' said the other, 'goodness knows what
mightn't have happened! It was like this here, sir----'
'Go to the General's, both of you,' interrupted Mrs. Gregory
impatiently. 'General, I am to blame, and only I. I put down a lighted
candle on the window-sill in the hall and forgot it. The curtains
caught.'
'Just so. Those new-fangled decorations are like tinder. I've said so
again and again,' said the General, grimly triumphant. 'It's a good
thing you got out safely. Here are Grace and my wife. Now take my
advice and go quickly to our house with them. I'll look after Tom.'
'Come with us, dear Mrs. Gregory,' said Grace.
'The General will do all he can,' said Lady Elton.
By this time the garden was alive. People were hurrying up from every
direction: water was being poured over the roof of the cottage, and all
sorts of things--from tables and chairs to millinery--were being flung
out of the windows. 'I can't go in till I know that Tom is safe,' cried
Mrs. Gregory.
'Why, here he is!' said the General, 'and by Jove! he looks as if he
had seen a ghost!'
Tom carried a lantern, the light of which, streaming upwards, showed
his face as white as death. He strode up to the little group, and,
taking no notice of the ladies, seized the General by the shoulder.
'Robbery has been done,' he said hoarsely.
'What? money! jewels! Lady Elton, for God's sake take Mrs. Gregory
away!' said the General. 'Now,' as the three ladies moved away slowly,
'don't rave; but tell me plainly what has happened!'
'My desk has been ransacked and papers of incalculable value to me have
been taken out.'
'Taken out? You are sure of that?'
'I am positive. I put them away in my escritoire. It has been forced
open.'
'Anything besides papers gone?'
'Nothing. I put a twenty-pound note there--the price of my last design.
It is there still.'
'And these papers--what are they?'
'I don't know. That is the cruel part of it. They were given to me by
Mr. Cherry as explaining my inheritance, and I was to have looked over
them to-night. But we are wasting time. Come back with me to the house
and watch the people there. I have a suspicion that the papers were
seized and the house fired by the same hand.'
'Impossible, Tom! I know how the fire arose.'
They had been hurrying back to the house; but, on hearing this, Tom
pulled up. 'You know!' he ejaculated. 'How can that be?'
'My dear boy, for heaven's sake don't be so melodramatic,' said the
General tartly. 'You will be accusing _me_ of stealing your papers
next. The fire broke out in the simplest way. Your mother put down her
candle on the window-sill in the hall, and those muslin curtains of
yours, against which I have preached till I am tired, caught fire. Now
don't, like a good fellow, stare at me so! I am repeating your mother's
own words.'
'Where is my mother?' asked Tom.
'She is with Lady Elton, and there she shall remain for the present. I
refuse to permit you to ask her a single question to-night.'
They were, by this time, in the midst of the little crowd that
surrounded the house. Water was still playing over it; but the flames
were dead. 'Pretty safe now?' said the General, addressing one of the
policemen.
'Yes, sir; and we saved a goodish lot of things.'
'So I see. Any strangers about?'
'No, General; not a single soul. I was up here from the first. Do Mr.
Gregory think----?'
'Mr. Gregory has missed some valuable papers.'
'If they were on this side, General, 'taint wonderful like.'
'They were on the other----'
'We must see after it to-morrow,' interrupted Tom hastily; and then,
raising his voice: 'I am much obliged to you all for helping me
to-night, and to-morrow, if you come to me, I will reward you for your
trouble. I believe there is nothing more to be done now.'
'Two of the police had better stay on the premises. There are all sorts
of things lying about,' said the General. 'You, Tom, will come back
with me.'
'I am much obliged to you, General; but I think I had rather not. My
own room is perfectly safe, I believe.'
'But the furniture is out, isn't it?'
'No; there was nothing of value but the papers; and, for reasons of my
own, I had it left as it was. Good-night, General.'
* * * * *
So at last Tom was alone. He had given up his lantern to the policeman;
but he would not strike a light. He sat on the side of his bed,
listening while the sounds of the many footsteps died away, and gazing
out into the darkness, which was strangely empty to him. At last,
being utterly worn out, he flung himself down on the bed and slept. He
awoke early. Of course his first thought was the papers, to the loss of
which he could not reconcile himself tamely. Thinking it just possible
that he might have been mistaken in supposing he had left them in his
writing-drawer, he turned the room upside down in search of them. It
was all to no purpose. After a few wild moments of alternating hope and
despair, he made up his mind that they would not be found in the house.
He dressed and went down into the garden, which was choked up with
_débris_ from the gutted rooms. His mother's servants, under whose
directions some of the furniture was being carried in, were there
already. He questioned them closely about the night before, wishing
particularly to know if any stranger had been hanging about during the
afternoon or evening. But they could give him no satisfaction.
He went on into the Eltons' garden. Early as it was, the General was
out. Dressed in morning _déshabille_ he was sitting on the lawn, taking
the early cup of tea which strengthened him for his work amongst his
plants, while Yaseen Khan, his Indian servant, stood behind him,
holding up a white umbrella.
The General welcomed Tom warmly. 'Good morning, my dear boy!' he said.
'Got over last night's shock, I hope. Sit down! Yaseen Khan, another
cup. Yes, I insist. No sedative like tea.'
'Can I see my mother?' said Tom.
'Not yet, I am sure. She was very much excited last night, and seems
to have had difficulty in resting. The last I heard was that she was
asleep and not to be disturbed. You may as well take things quietly.
Papers found?'
'No, General.'
'Dear! dear! And you say they are important?'
'They are of the deepest, the most incalculable importance to me.'
'You don't mean to say so? I wonder Cherry let them out of his hands.'
'But they were mine--the legacy of the dead man who has enriched me. I
hoped to find his wishes, his instructions.'
'In fact,' said the General with a bland smile, 'they had no value
except for you. Set your mind at rest, then. They will certainly be
found. In the meantime here is your cup. Cream? Sugar? Now then,
Yaseen Khan--that fellow is moving like a snail to-day. Don't stare,
you son of an owl, but bring up that small table. Understand English?
Of course he does. See him when Trixy-sahib speaks to him.' A smile
had overspread Yaseen Khan's passive countenance, and he began to hop
about briskly. 'There! her very name is enough,' said the General. And
thereupon, beginning with Trixy, he talked about his little girls,
giving anecdotes illustrative of their peculiar ways of meeting
discipline, and of his own wise and subtle methods of bringing them to
what he was pleased to call reason.
Grace came out while this tirade was in progress, and she caught the
words: 'A firm hand, Tom. That's the secret. Let them know you mean
what you say.'
'Are you making Mr. Gregory believe that you are a tyrant, dad?' she
said, putting her arms round his neck and kissing him first on the
forehead and then on the cheeks. 'Because----'
'Now, pull up, young woman,' said the General, winking mischievously at
Tom, 'or I shall say that you are showing off before our young friend
here.'
'Father!' Grace was erect at once, with blazing cheeks and eyes.
'You see,' said the General, in high delight. 'That's how I do it.'
Grace laughed and kissed him again. 'You are the dearest old goose in
all the world, father,' she said. 'How you ever manage to make your
men obey you is a mystery to me. They are afraid of him, Tom. Can you
imagine it? I can't.'
'Another cup, Yaseen Khan!' said the General. 'We must stop this girl
somehow.'
'Not a cup for me, dear,' said Grace. 'I came out with a message.
Mother and I are having tea with Mrs. Gregory. She heard Tom's voice
and she wants to see him.'
'Thank you. I was very anxious to see her,' said Tom, rising.
'But mother says you must be sure to say nothing to excite Mrs.
Gregory,' said Grace, as they walked together towards the house. 'Her
nerves seem a little unstrung by the shock.'
Tom promised to be careful, and he was shown into a room where he found
his mother sitting up in bed, a fine Indian shawl of Lady Elton's
thrown round her shoulders. She did not look ill--in fact, there was
a brighter colour than usual on her face, while the only sign of the
excitement of which Grace had spoken was in her eyes, which shone
curiously.
'Why, mother,' said Tom, stooping to kiss her. 'I don't believe you are
any worse for the shock.'
'No, I don't think I am,' she answered, looking at him fondly. 'It is
such a relief that we are all safe. Did you hear that it was my fault?'
'I heard that you thought it was, mother.'
'But I should like to tell you how it really came about,' she said a
little eagerly. 'I told you I was going to my room. Well! I lighted my
candle and was on my way across the hall when I heard all the voices
in the garden. I wanted to see if Grace was there, and knew I should
know her by her light dress, so I put down the candle and went up to
my room in the dark. And then, dear, I don't quite know what happened
to me. I suppose I was dreaming about you, and dreaming of dear Grace
too. I must have fallen into a dream or trance, for I certainly knew
nothing until the servants came rushing out with cries of "fire." At
that moment I remembered the candle on the window-sill, but, of course,
too late. That's all. An accident, and happily, as Lady Elton says, no
very serious consequences. Just imagine what we would have felt if it
had happened a week ago.'
'I wish it had,' said Tom,'and then my papers might not have gone.'
'Papers?' echoed his mother, her voice fluttering strangely. 'Are they
burnt, Tom?'
'Speak of them another time,' said Lady Elton.
'Remember your promise,' whispered Grace.
The colour had leapt to Mrs. Gregory's face, and her eyes, which
glittered feverishly, were fixed upon her son.
'They can't have been taken away!' she whispered. 'Who would? Are you
sure--are you sure they were not burnt?'
'Of course they were burnt,' said Tom, bending over her in great alarm.
'What else could it be? If you excite yourself like this, you will be
ill, mother.'
'Oh, no!' she said. 'It is all right now.'
The excitement had died away as soon as it had arisen. She fell back
upon her pillows, pale and smiling. Tom left the room relieved on her
account, but feeling more baffled than ever about his papers.