IN THE VAULTS
When Win finally appeared at Rose Villa, driven down in a closed
carriage, the tale he related was of sufficient interest to banish from
even Roger's mind the resentment he considered but just, after his long
afternoon with Mr. Fisher. Those hours had been profitable, did Roger
only choose to admit the fact, for the tutor had managed to galvanize
into life the dry bones of an epoch in history. Roger would not
acknowledge it even to himself, but on that stormy day he came rather
near liking Bill Fish.
"That's a most exciting discovery, Win," said Mrs. Thayne when the tale
was concluded. "But I'm afraid I agree with Colonel Lisle that the
chances of finding anything are small, though you will have fun
exploring. It is very kind of the Colonel and Miss Connie to permit
such a troop to invade the Manor."
"I think they are just as interested themselves," Win replied. "The
Colonel was immensely pleased to have that legend confirmed."
Mrs. Thayne looked at him rather wistfully, wondering how much of the
interest displayed by the Manor family was due to sympathy with Win. No
doubt they liked him, for people always did. Well, she was glad that
this unusual experience was coming his way.
"I'm crazy to see that cave!" Frances was saying. "Don't you remember,
Edith, when we first met Miss Connie on the beach, she said something
about looking for caves? I suppose she was thinking of this one."
"I've been in it," Roger suddenly announced. "Mr. Max took me. It's a
very decent cave but there's only one place where a box could be
hidden, on a sort of ledge above the water. We climbed up and if there
had been so much as a snitch of a chest about, it couldn't have escaped
us."
"You've been _in_ the cave?" demanded Frances, pouncing upon him. "When
did Mr. Max take you? Where were the rest of us? Why didn't you tell
us?"
Roger looked uncomfortable. He had never mentioned that expedition, not
even to his mother during a very serious conversation on the sin of
truancy.
"Oh, I met him on the cliff," he said evasively. "He showed me the cave
and we went swimming. He is a corking swimmer."
"But why didn't you tell us about it?" persisted Frances.
Roger saw no way out. Being a truthful individual he blurted forth the
facts.
"Because Mr. Max told me not to. He said it wasn't safe and he was
afraid you girls would go fooling around and get caught by the tide. It
isn't a fit place for girls, either!" he added largely.
"It is!" retorted the exasperated Frances. "If it wasn't, Miss Connie
wouldn't have been there."
"I'd wager that Miss Connie did everything Mr. Max did," chuckled Win.
"But the Colonel said to-day that the cave was out of the question so
far as any hidden chest was concerned,--that it couldn't have escaped
discovery all these years. I don't really expect to find anything,
Mother, but it will be great fun to look. I've always wanted to search
for hidden treasure, you know. And Miss Connie seemed as interested as
I was. She has appointed next Wednesday afternoon to explore the
vaults. We are all to come at three and stay for tea afterwards. At
first she suggested that we have it in the cellars, said it would be
nice and cobwebby and befitting a treasure hunt, but then she
remembered that Yvonne was afraid of spiders and wouldn't fancy taking
the tea things down," he ended with a laugh.
Win was tired that evening and went upstairs early. When Roger
clattered into the adjoining room half an hour later, his brother
called.
"Oh, you, Roger," he said, "come in here a jiff."
With a terrific yawn, Roger appeared in the doorway. Win was in bed, a
lighted lamp on a table by his pillow.
"Could I get down to that cave?" he asked.
"You could get down," Roger remarked judicially. "It's rather steep but
there's only one bad rock. Still," he added, "if you waited till the
tide was even lower, yon could walk round that. When we came back from
our swim, that bit of cliff was out of water. It would be some tug
crawling up, but you could take it easy."
"I'd give a good deal to get down there," said Win thoughtfully. "How
was it inside? Much climbing? Any place where a box could be tucked out
of sight?"
Roger proceeded to describe the interior of the cave, arousing Win's
interest still more.
"I don't suppose there's hide nor hair of that chest around," he
admitted, "but all the same, I want to take a look. The tide is full
every morning now and it will be the end of the week before we can get
down. As soon as we can, I wish you'd do the pilot act."
"Oh, I'll show you," assented Roger, again yawning prodigiously. "I
don't take any special stock in this hidden chest, but the cave is fine
and I'll like to take a whack at the Manor cellars. Are you going to
burn that lamp all night?"
"I am going to read for a while," said his brother, taking a book from
under his pillows. "Shut the door into your room if it annoys you."
"It doesn't," answered Roger. "I can see to undress by it better than
with my candle. Ridiculous to have only candles in bedrooms! Mother
would give me Hail Columbia if I read in bed the way you do."
Win suppressed a sigh. "Mother knows I read only when I can't sleep,"
he said shortly. "You may not believe it, but I'd much rather sleep."
Wednesday afternoon found an expectant quartette walking up the Manor
road, slowly because Win paused occasionally to regain breath, but
there were so many lovely things to look at that no delay seemed
irksome. To begin with were fascinating cottages with neat little
box-edged gardens and straw-thatched roofs; curious evergreen trees
with stiff jointed branches known locally as monkey-puzzles; there were
pretty children, some of whom waved hands of recognition; there were
skylarks singing in the blue above, their happy notes falling like
musical rain; there were big black and white magpies and black choughs,
rooks and corbies, now known to the young people by their English
names. And always there were glimpses of the ever-changing, changeless
sea.
Roger, who had gradually forged ahead, remained leaning over a low
cottage wall until the others came up. In the yard sat a woman milking
one of the pretty, soft-eyed Jersey cows, but what held Roger's
fascinated attention was her milk-pail.
Instead of the ordinary tin receptacle familiar to Roger during country
summers, she had an enormous copper can with a fat round body, rather
small top and handle at one side like a bloated milk-jug. Over the top
was tied loosely a piece of coarse cloth and on this rested a clean sea
shell. Streams of milk directed into the shell slowly overflowed its
edges to strain through the cloth and subside gently into the can.
"That's something of a milk pail," observed Roger approvingly.
"It's just like the hot-water jugs Annette brings in the morning," said
Frances, "only ten times bigger. Wouldn't it be lovely for goldenrod
and asters? I'm going to ask Mother to buy one."
"Pretty sight you'll be walking up the dock at Boston with that on your
arm," jeered Roger. "It will never go in any trunk and you'll have to
carry it everywhere you go. You needn't ask me to lug it, either."
"It can be crated and sent that way," said Frances calmly.
"Those hot-water jugs make me tired," Roger went on as they continued
their walk. "I'm sick to death of having a quart of lukewarm water in a
watering-pot dumped at my door every morning. Think of the hot water we
have at home, gallons and gallons of it, steaming, day or night!"
Edith looked politely incredulous. "How can that be?" she asked. "Do
you keep coals on the kitchen fire all night?"
"Coals!" snorted Roger. "All we have to do is to turn a faucet and that
lights a heater and the water runs hot as long as you leave it turned
on. No quart pots for us!"
"But surely," said Edith, "only very wealthy people can have luxuries
like that."
"We're not made of money but we have it," retorted Roger. "Even workmen
have hot-water heaters in their houses."
From Edith's face it was plain that she frankly didn't believe him and
Win tried to make matters better.
"You see, Edith," he explained, "it is much more difficult in the
United States to get satisfactory servants and so we have all sorts of
clever mechanical devices that make it easier to manage with fewer
maids."
Edith's brow cleared. "Oh, I see," she said. "I thought there must be
some reason. Of course, if we needed them, we would have such
arrangements in England."
"England," declared Roger bluntly, "in ways of living is about two
hundred years behind the United States!"
"Roger!" exclaimed the shocked Frances.
"Cut it out!" ordered Win.
"It's true, anyway," retorted the annoyed Roger, "and there's another
thing. We licked England for keeps in the Revolutionary War!"
"Only because you were English yourselves!" flashed Edith before
Roger's scandalized family could remind him of his forgotten manners.
This retort disconcerted Roger and delighted Win.
"You've hit the nail on the head, Edith," he declared approvingly.
"England could never have been beaten except by her own sons. And
England's navy has always ruled the seas."
"How about Dewey wiping out the Spanish fleet at Manila?" demanded
Roger still huffily.
"That reminds me," said Win coolly. "I believe it was an English
admiral who backed Dewey up at Manila when the Germans tried to butt
in. After that battle somebody wrote a poem about it and wrote the
truth, too. This is what he said:
"'Ye may trade by land, ye may fight by land,
Ye may hold the land in fee;
But go not down to the sea in ships
To battle with the free;
For England and America
Will keep and hold the sea!'"
As Win concluded, Edith's high color lessened and Roger looked less
pugnacious. Presently, each stole a sly glance at the other, both were
caught in the act and simultaneously laughed. So the party reached the
Manor without disruption by the way.
Constance, with a soft green sweater over her frock, came to meet them.
"All ready for the fray? Leave your hats in the hall. You will need
your woollies for we are going where sunlight never comes. There's good
store of candles and two lanterns. Anything else needed, Win?"
"A hammer perhaps," suggested Win. "We may want to sound walls."
"A hammer there shall be," and Constance rang the bell to order it.
"Dad says he will come down if we make any startling discovery, but
being an elderly person, he's a bit shy of damp."
Provided with lights and the hammer, the gay party started, filing
through a kitchen so fascinating with its red-bricked floor and shining
copper cooking utensils that Fran found it hard to pass. Several maids
and a jolly cook smiled on them as they vanished down the cellar stairs.
"I suppose you want to see the oldest part of the Manor vaults," Connie
said to Win as she led the way with a candle in a brass reflector. "We
shall come back through here."
To Edith and Frances it seemed that they traversed numberless dark
rooms, dry but chilly, some stored with vegetables and barrels, while
others were empty or showed dusky apparitions of old lumber. Constance
stopped at last.
"We are under the library now, Win. This is the original cellar and you
can see how much rougher the workmanship is than in the newer parts."
Walls were rough and floor uneven, indeed, a part of it was composed of
an outlying ledge of the Jersey granite. Obedient to suggestion, Roger
and the girls began to inspect the walls for traces of some former
exit; Roger by himself, the girls, rather fearfully, together. Win
stood looking at the ledge in the floor.
"That settles there being any hiding-place underneath," he remarked.
"Yes," said Connie, "but the paper said 'beyond the walls,' you know.
So wouldn't it more likely be in one of the cellars not built at that
time?"
"Well, probably," assented Win. "But I was looking at the way this rock
runs." He produced a pocket-compass. "It's much thicker at this end and
the direction is approximately north and south. What is to the east,
Miss Connie?"
"Nothing at all. That wall is still the outer one."
"And the wall farthest from the water?" asked Win quickly.
Constance nodded.
"Then it is the western wall I want," said Win, turning toward it.
Somewhat mystified, Connie watched him make a minute examination,
tapping with the hammer on its entire length.
"I suspect that it's frightfully thick," she said as he stopped,
looking disappointed.
"What is on the other side?" he inquired. "Is this whole partition now
included in the house?"
Constance led the way to the opposite side of the wall. There lay a
large apartment, dimly lighted, but of better workmanship and finish.
Win went immediately to the eastern side of this cellar and bestowed
upon the partition stones the same minute inspection.
"This wall must really be several feet through," he observed to the
watching Constance.
"Probably. But I don't see, Win, what you are trying to get at."
"I hardly know myself, Miss Connie. It's just an idea I had. This would
have been the wall nearest the cave. You see I'm not used to having a
cave as a sort of household annex, so I can't help thinking it may
figure yet in this business."
Connie shook her head. "Perhaps it did once," she said. "Only that cave
is more or less common property; many people know of it. We can be sure
of one thing; that nothing will be found in it now. How about this
floor?"
Win left the wall to inspect by aid of his lantern the huge,
roughly-squared blocks forming the cellar floor. Damp, dark and
numerous they showed under the light.
"It's possible that any one might conceal some cavity," said Connie.
"But that one would surely differ in some way from the others. Let us
spread out and inspect them. Anybody who finds a flag in any way
peculiar, speak."
Constance herself began to peer at the stone flooring, not at all
because she expected to find anything in the least unusual, but because
she did not want disappointment to fall upon Win too quickly. If he
really searched thoroughly, he would be better satisfied to acknowledge
the quest as useless.
Among the many scenes those centuries-old walls had looked upon, it is
a question whether they had witnessed so gay a sight as the five young
people, wandering slowly up and down the uneven floor, looking for some
stone raised higher or sunken lower than the others, more carefully
fitted; perhaps, though this could scarcely be hoped, provided with an
iron ring for a handle.
Nothing happened. No two of the many flags were alike, yet none seemed
of sufficient distinction to mark it as worth further investigation.
All looked as though they had never been moved.
The other and more recent cellars received scanty attention. Of lesser
age, they were also cleaner, drier and better lighted.
"Our adventure seems fruitless," sighed Connie as they stood at last
among bins and bottles near the kitchen stairs. "Why, where is Win?"
Both Frances and Roger started back, ashamed to have forgotten him if
only for a moment. Suppose poor Win had had one of his attacks alone
back there in that shadow-filled vault!
Win was found in the original cellar of the old Manor, not pacing the
floor or tapping the stones, but meditatively staring at one of its
walls, not the one he had devoted so much attention to, but the
northern boundary.
"What luck?" asked Connie as they came in, relieved at sight of him.
"None," said Win, turning to her with curiously bright eyes. "But, Miss
Connie, do you think your father would show me those plans again!"
"Why, of course he will. Has some idea struck you?"
"I don't quite know," said Win. "But I should like to see the plans and
perhaps some other day, you'll let me come down here again for a few
moments."