THE SECRET ROOM
Dawn was breaking when Paulina left the two girls, telling Jannet that
she intended to watch for the return of Vittoria. Jannet persuaded Nell
to lie down on her bed, but she was too highly keyed over the whole
affair to feel sleepy. At a suitable time she would call Uncle Pieter
and tell him about the discovery. Meanwhile she would go by herself to
investigate that queer little box of a room.
Nell went soundly to sleep in a few minutes, feeling perfectly safe
from ghosts now in Jannet's room. Jannet sat quietly at her desk until
she was quite assured that Nell was asleep. Then she rose, picked up
her flashlight and the "darling" candlestick with its white candle
which always stood upon her mantel, a few matches upon its base, and
started for the attic stairway rather than going by the panel. It might
waken Nell.
The door of the attic stood open. Paulina, the neat, careful Paulina,
had been too much excited to think of closing it! The trap door so near
the partition also stood open. Jannet peered at a crack in the rough
partition. Yes, there was the outline of where the top of the secret
room stood above the attic floor on the other side of the partition. A
pile of lumber, a few odds and ends of boards, rafters and even a few
bricks were cleverly arranged to give the impression of waste material
and nothing important, should anyone be curious enough to peep through.
Now, where below was there room for the rest of the secret chamber? But
Jannet recalled the long flight of stairs to the attic. Ceilings were
high in the old house. She recalled, too, that the smooth ceilings of
her closet and the one corresponding to it were quite low, perhaps to
conceal any evidence of the circular stairs. The few steps down from
the attic floor accounted for the secret room below such part of it as
was raised above the attic floor, its outlines concealed.
Jannet could see a glimmer of light from the outside, when she looked
down into the dark well where the ladder led to the ground floor at the
very wall of the house. She recalled little jogs and irregularities
downstairs, but could not place this for a moment. Yet from some cracks
somewhere the morning sunlight came dimly through.
"The queer little tool house!" she suddenly thought. She had wondered
why in the world that had been inserted in a brick wall. It was shallow
and Jannet remembered a sort of rude table that stood against its back
wall, "probably concealing the entrance to this secret way," with its
queer ladder nailed to the wood of the enclosure.
How thrilling it was! Cousin Diana, when she showed Jannet around had
mentioned the tool house and let Jannet peep within when they came to
it. "When the wings were built on, this was naturally sealed in,"
Cousin Diana had said, "but when Pieter took them away, he painted up
the quaint entrance with its odd latch and open lattice." Perhaps the
very ease of entering the tool house would make no one suspect a
concealed ascent behind it.
She turned to the right and opened the sliding door, finding it more
easily opened now that she knew how. She was surprised to find light
here, and looking above, she saw a round window, or ventilator at the
top of the room on the side of the house wall. This, doubtless, matched
the other one in the attic. But it supplied little light, and she
looked around for a place to set her candlestick. She sat it down on
the shelf, which had most probably been provided for a narrow bed, and
saw that a board or leaf hung down from the wall on hinges. The hinges
were rusty, but still good and Jannet succeeded in raising the board
and propping it with the stick attached, which fitted into a place in
the wall beneath. That was the table, then. It had held the ghost
costume.
Jannet's imagination was working in good order. With a smile she lit
her candle. "Now I'm 'captive' or 'fugitive,' back in the old days, and
there is a price on my head, perhaps, and I haven't anything to
eat,"--but Jannet's heels struck against something of tin that made her
look under the shelf to see what was there. The room was perfectly bare
except at this place, and Jannet saw only an uninteresting pile of pans
and dishes in one corner, all covered thick with dust. An old wooden
box, a wooden pail falling to pieces, and a tin or metal kettle of an
odd sort stood in a row. Jannet could scarcely see, through the dust,
that the "tin" kettle was of pewter. But Jannet did not like pewter
things anyhow. Cousin Di had laughed at her for this distaste.
"He certainly kept everything under his bed," thought Jannet, in no
hurry to touch the dusty things. But under the wooden box she saw the
corner of something made of leather sticking out. With the tips of her
fingers the stooping Jannet drew out a queer old portfolio. This
promised to be of interest. Jannet decided to investigate it right on
the spot, though she wished that she had brought a dust cloth.
But she sacrificed her clean handkerchief to the cause and after
blowing off some of the dust she wiped off most of the rest. Opening
out the decaying leather, she found that one pocket had a few papers in
it. There was a torn paper, conveying some property, that she thought
would be interesting to Uncle Pieter, as she glanced at the old writing
and the Dutch names. But what was this,--oh, how perfectly wonderful!
For the next ten minutes there was perfect silence in the box of a
room, while the candle fluttered a little and Jannet, wrapt in what she
was reading, almost lost sight of where she was. Many and many a long
year before, some one had read those little notes tucked away in the
old portfolio with as much interest and more anxiety. "Dere Father,"
ran the first that Jannet pulled from the sticky leather at the side.
"It is hard to get the food to the attic without being seen. The Captin
watches us or some one is there while we are cooking. But they watch my
mother more than they watch me. I put the food on the stair and tapped,
but you were asleep, perhaps. I heard a noise and I hastened to go up
and closed the trap. There was no one here. Now I will drop this down
quickly. It is a good thing that I keep my dolls in the attick. They
let me play here. I was eating some bread and having my table spread
for my dolls when the Captin looked within the door to see what I was
doing this morning. I put my old doll's head on the flagon of water and
wrapped it in the plaid coat that Mistress Patience made for the doll
that you brought from England." (And Jannet had found little dishes and
dolls in the pretty box of dark wood, whose key had been discovered!)
No name was signed to this. It had been folded tightly to be dropped at
the entrance, Jannet thought, for it was greatly mussed and difficult
to read.
A small piece of paper with a large grease spot bore a short message.
"I made these for you. Mother says that they are tasty."
"Probably doughnuts," smiled Jannet, looking at the grease spot.
But here was a longer letter and in another, older hand. It began
without address, or was but a part of the entire message.
"I can only pray that you may not be discovered. Your rash act in
opening the panel and entering the room where the captain was sleeping
to get the covering, was successful in a way that you may not have
considered. The captain did make a to-do about it when he saw that it
was not a dream. The men will not go into the room nor will they go
into the attic since the wind has been making music there. The tale is
that a gaunt ghost, with a clank of sword, appeared by the bed and
snatched the quilt from upon the captain. The door was locked and the
guard outside saw no one, yet the quilt was gone. For my sake, Pieter,
do not be rash. I will continue to leave word of their movements. It
will be safer to visit the attic now, I hope. Noises there are thought
to be the ghost. Jannetje pretended to be frightened, but she can yet
visit her dolls at times. No very good word comes from our troops. Our
Tory neighbor doth rejoice in unseemly fashion for one who pretended to
be our friend and he is oft at our door in converse with the captain. I
am watched at all times, but I lock my door and write when I am thus
alone, putting my messages inside the little waists of Jannetje, who
was ten years of age but yesterday."
The writing stopped at the bottom of the sheet.
One more large piece of paper was written in the childish hand, but
contained only a short message. The paper had been wrapped about
something, Jannet thought. So Jannetje was another ancestress of the
name. She spelled and composed well for a child of ten, Jannet decided.
"Mother sends this," the message said. "Trupers leave to-day. She
thinks that they were only searching for you or waiting for messages
from spies. Wait, she says, till she can come to the attick after the
Captin goes away."
This was all. It had happened in Revolutionary times, of course.
Jannet's imagination could supply the missing information, or some of
it. Her ancestor had perhaps been visiting his family when the group of
British soldiers came upon them too soon for him to escape. Or perhaps
he was, indeed, in the work of a spy for General Washington's troops.
Wouldn't her uncle and Andy be delighted to read these old messages, so
yellowed with age! Carefully Jannet put them again inside of the
portfolio, though that, too, was ready to fall apart.
Thinking that there might be some further scrap of information
somewhere, Jannet began to examine the dusty articles under the shelf
or bed. Any bedding that had once been there had probably been removed
as soon as the fugitive had found it no longer necessary to stay there.
These other things were of no particular value.
But Jannet had scarcely begun to move the round pewter pot from its
long resting place when she heard a sound that startled her. She jumped
to her feet with a moment's panic. Suppose Vittoria, for she was almost
sure that the ghost was Vittoria, was hiding somewhere and--but a voice
assured her, before she was fairly on her feet. There was Cousin Andy's
dear head at the top of the secret stairs and peeping in. "What's all
this?" he cheerily inquired. "Are you trying to burn up the house with
a candle?"
"Oh no; I'm ever so careful,--but do look out, Cousin Andy, for those
are bad stairs!"
"Would you care, then, if the old wreck got hurt again?"
"'Old wreck', indeed! You're the best first cousin that I've got, and
I'm proud of your scars, if you have any!"
Andrew Van Meter entered and looked curiously around. "I see that there
is a sliding door on this side, too, though Nell did not mention it.
She had a telephone message from home, by the way, and left word for
you that she was riding over later in the day if she could. She did not
know where you were, she said, but when I heard the story I could
pretty well guess."
"I did not realize that you all would be up, I've stayed longer here
than I intended to. Oh, Andy,--Cousin Andy--I've found the most
interesting messages in this old portfolio!"
"Take it with you, then, but I want to see first the way to the attic."
Cousin Andy needed no help up the little steps, but looked down at the
ladder and the dark descent. "You were wise not to attempt that,
Jannet," said he. "Yes, that must be an opening to the old tool house.
That was a pretty clever stunt of the old codger who built this, with
three ways of exit, through the attic, the tool house, and your
mother's room. But I would not have cared to occupy that little room
for any length of time. A six footer would almost graze the ceiling.
Yet he could sit comfortably, or stretch out on that shelf."
"Do you suppose that Jan ever found this?" Jannet asked, while they
made their way to the other end of the attic, after Andy had viewed the
partition, and the old carpet, and other things kept over the trap door.
"I do not think so. He would have told us. But it is a wonder that
Paulina, with her tendency to clean up, has not found the trap door
some time during all these years."
"She was afraid of ghosts, Cousin Andy, but I should think that the
workmen might have found it when they wired the house for lights."
"It is strange, but they missed it somehow."
Andrew viewed with some amusement the little bed made comfortable for
the night and the rocking chair with its comforter and little pillow.
The pitcher, which had held the lemonade, and the cooky plate still
remained on the floor. "You missed some of your fudge," said Andy,
picking up a piece and putting it in his mouth as he sat down on the
bed and looked around. "It is some time since I have been in this
attic. I never cared for attics; I was always for outdoor sports. Did
you know that I can ride again, Jannet?"
"Yes, and I'm so glad. Did _you_ know that I had a long talk with Uncle
Pieter, and that I'm going to stay in the family and not go back to
school?"
"Good. Sensible girl. Dad and I need somebody like you around."
"I shouldn't think that Uncle Pieter needed any more responsibility,
and I heard Miss Hilliard say once that every young person was."
"Dad doesn't regard you in that way, I guess. I think that you are an
_opportunity_."
"Why, aren't you nice! Oh, it is so _good_ to have a family! Shall you
feel like going if Uncle takes me traveling a little bit?"
"I shouldn't be surprised, if it will make me well. I had no hope of
ever being well again until a few weeks ago, Jannet, but things look
very different now."
Jannet, looking at the more hopeful face, was delighted within herself,
for did she not know of someone that was coming this summer, if Cousin
Di could manage it? Dear Cousin Andy would be happy yet.
But another surprise was at hand for Jannet, for as Andrew spoke they
heard some one in the little hallway, and there in the door stood
Cousin Diana and--of all things--Jan!
"Hello, Jannetje," said Jan's none too gentle voice. "So you beat me to
it! I'm provoked that I could not have discovered the secret room. How
do you get there? I just got in and surprised Mother. Say, I was the
fellow that took the blue comforter, but I got in a different way. I
was home the night before you all knew I was there and I had no idea
that there was any one in the room. It was always kept locked anyhow.
So I just sneaked in and got a cover. The closet didn't seem to have
any and my bed had only one blanket."
"Why, Jan! And you never saw me or anything?"
"Never even thought of your being there. I knew the way to the bed and
I helped myself. If you will be good, I'll show you how I got in after
I see all this."
Jan was off to investigate on his own account, but Jannet detained Mrs.
Holt long enough to ask her if Vittoria had come in yet.
"No, she has not reported at all. You feel pretty sure that it was she?"
"Yes, Cousin Di. I'll tell you all about it the first chance I have.
But I suppose that Nell gave you a good description of our night up
here."
"She did, indeed. You poor children! I slept on peacefully after our
late drive home, not knowing that you youngsters were having such a
time. You should have called us."
"No use in waking you up, I thought. Where is Uncle Pieter?"
"He had to go out on the farm, but he talked with Paulina and he wants
to see you as soon as he comes in. Here he comes now!"
Stooping and brushing off dust, Mr. Van Meter came from the back, or
more properly the front of the attic. He was smiling and remarked that
he passed an excited boy on the way. "This is a new place for a family
conference," he added. "We have come up in the world, I see."
But Jannet, tired as she was after her experiences of the night, liked
this close gathering with its entire loss of all formality. She
jokingly offered him the rocking chair, but slipped a hand in his as
she told him of the portfolio and its amazing notes. "Nobody _could_
have made them up and put them there, could they?"
Uncle Pieter, surprised, put on his glasses and looked at the leather
portfolio with its old pockets. "I think not, Jannet, but let us go
down to the library and you shall tell me the whole story from the
first. I can not get a very connected narrative from Paulina."
Andy threw back his head and laughed at this remark. "Imagine any one's
getting a connected narrative from P'lina about anything!"
Jannet displayed the old dolls and dishes which the small box
contained. "If they prove to be the ones referred to," said Uncle
Pieter, "I may have a case made for them and the portfolio."