NANCY PACKS UP.
Poor Mrs Clay lay down on the sofa in the drawing-room and shut her eyes.
Horatia sat beside her, kicking the corner of one of the rich Persian
rugs that lay about the drawing-room; not that she was in a bad
temper--indeed, Horatia was rarely in a bad temper--but as an outlet to
her superfluous energy.
It was pain and grief to Horatia Cunningham to sit still at any time; but
this afternoon, when she felt so excited and wanted to hear all about the
fire, it was a severe trial to her patience.
Mrs Clay was evidently worn out by the events of the day. Horatia glanced
at her from time to time, but did not like to break the silence. Great
was her relief, therefore, when a knock came at the drawing-room door.
Mrs Clay opened her eyes. 'Who can that be?' she demanded, clutching
Horatia's arm in her nervousness.
'Only one of the servants, I expect,' replied Horatia, looking towards
the door, in the hope that it would be some one with news of some sort.
'But they never knock at the drawing-room door,' objected Mrs Clay.
'Hadn't you better tell them to come in?' suggested Horatia, for Mrs Clay
lay there, clutching her hand and talking in whispers, but not giving any
answer to the person at the door.
'Oh no, my dear. I--we don't know who it is,' gasped the poor thing, who
was evidently quite unnerved, and no wonder.
'Shall I go and see who it is? I dare say it is one of the servants, who
did not like to come in and disturb you, because they know you are
resting,' said Horatia.
'I think you'd better ring for Sykes,' objected Mrs Clay, still keeping
her hold of Horatia.
'I'm sure it's only a servant, perhaps Sykes himself. I'll only open the
door a little bit,' said Horatia, loosening her hand from Mrs Clay's and
running to the door, which she opened, as she promised, only a little
bit, and then exclaimed, 'Nanny! it's you, is it? What's the matter?' For
it was against all etiquette for Mrs Nancy to come down to this part of
the house. Moreover, the old nurse looked disturbed and flurried.
'Excuse my disturbing you, Miss Horatia, but I couldn't get any one to
come, they're all that upset and put about; but I want to know what train
you're going by. The packing's all done, and you can start as soon as you
like; and the sooner the better for me,' she wound up viciously.
'What nonsense are you talking, Nanny? Why should we pack up and go away
just because a granary and a few trees are burnt down? We don't live in
the trees!' said Horatia, laughing.
'It's no laughing matter. If you remember, I said to you when we first
came here that it was no place for us, and now you see how true my words
have come?' said Mrs Nancy.
'I don't remember any words of yours that have come true, and I
shouldn't advise you to say that, Nanny, or they'll think you know
something about it, and, perhaps, did it yourself,' retorted Horatia
jokingly.
Nancy gave a kind of snort. 'Don't you go carrying your love of a joke
too far, miss; and if you think there's any chance of me being accused,
that's all the more reason that we should go before worse happens,' she
said gloomily.
'Why, Nanny, who would have thought you'd be such a coward? It's all over
now, and we can't go away all of a sudden like this, even if we wanted
to, and I don't. I want to stop and see what will happen next, and help
if I can.'
'Help! You'll be burnt in your bed before you can help yourself, let
alone any one else,' cried Nancy. 'Be guided by me, miss, and let us take
the night-mail. Sykes says there's one passes about eight o'clock. We
could telegraph at once, and her ladyship would be delighted to see you.
Don't pass another night under this doomed house.'
'Miss 'Oratia, w'at is it? 'Oo are you w'isperin' to out there?' asked
Mrs Clay.
'It's only Nancy, my nurse; she wants to speak to me about something. I
won't be a minute,' Horatia answered her; and then, stepping into the
passage, she said hurriedly, 'Nancy, who told you that? Tell me at once
all you know. When are they going to set fire to the house? To-night?'
'How should I know, miss? I can only say what I think,' replied the old
nurse, whose usually cheery face was puckered up with anxiety and fright.
Horatia took her nurse by both arms. 'Now, Nanny, you've just got to
tell me. Do you know anything, or don't you?'
'I know we're among a lot of savage folk that don't respect other folk's
property, and it's about time we went home,' declared the old woman.
Horatia gave a stamp of the foot. 'You are aggravating, Nanny! Do you
know of any plot to burn the house? Because if so'----began Horatia; but
she got no further.
For Nancy broke in with indignation, 'Well, I never, miss! A pretty pass
things have come to when you accuse me of knowing of plots! As if I'd mix
myself up with their wicked deeds! No, miss, I do not _know_ anything;
but I'm not blind nor deaf, and I have heard quite enough to make me pack
our trunks,' said the nurse.
'That's just what I want to know. What have you heard or seen? Do tell
me, Nanny. I shall be much more comfortable if I know,' entreated
Horatia.
'We shall both be much more comfortable when we are back at The Grange,'
said the nurse.
'It's no good you turning it off like that, Nanny, for I'm just going to
hold your arms like this till you tell me, and it's no use your wriggling
like that, for you can't get away; you may be bigger, but you didn't
learn gymnastics in your youth, and so you are not so strong in the arms
as I am.'
'I learnt one thing that you haven't, and that is respect for my elders,'
said Nancy severely, and trying to look dignified, but failing, as may be
imagined.
'I shall respect you all right if you tell me the truth,' replied
Horatia, unabashed by the rebuke.
'You don't want me to go carrying tales from the servants' hall, do you?
What do you suppose the mistress would say to that?' said Nancy.
'Mamma would say you were quite right in this case, because I am not
asking out of curiosity, but because I really ought to know,' said
Horatia.
'Well, miss, if you will have it, you will; but, of course, I only know
what little Naomi has told me of what she has heard down the town to-day,
and of course it mayn't be true,' said Nancy.
Horatia stamped her foot with impatience. 'Never mind whether it's true
or not; tell me what she said,' entreated Horatia.
'Naomi says that her sister Maria Jane says'--Horatia began to think that
the tale was going to be too complicated altogether, but the old woman
went on--'that the men say there wouldn't have been a brick left of
Balmoral this morning if they hadn't been given way to yesterday; and
that's your doing, miss.'
Horatia coloured a little with pleasure. 'Then what on earth are you
making this fuss about? The danger is over, as you see,' she cried
eagerly.
Old Nancy shook her head. 'You haven't heard the rest. That old
stupid--well, I beg his pardon, as we're in his house, and you seem to
like him, miss; though how you can, or what you can see in him, and after
how you've been used'----she said.
'Oh, never mind all that, Nanny; do tell me the rest! Mrs Clay will be
calling me again, so pray make haste!' exclaimed Horatia.
'Well, he goes down to the mills and undoes all the good you've done by
saying it was the last time a mill-hand would put foot in his park, for
he built that to be away from them, and he isn't going to have his peace
disturbed; and it wouldn't do them any good either, for he'd let them
have their way this time to please you, but it was the first and last
time he'd do such a thing.' Nancy stopped.
'That's not all. Go on, Nanny,' said Horatia.
'Well, Naomi's sister, you know--she hates Mr Clay, of course'----began
Nancy.
'Why of course?' interrupted Horatia.
'You know that story, surely, don't you, miss?'
'What story? How should I know why Naomi's sister hates Mr Clay? It's
very wrong of her,' said Horatia.
'So it is; but her young man--the young man she was going to marry, I
mean--was turned off by the master, and'----
'I expect he was a bad workman; that's his own fault,' said Horatia. 'But
never mind about that story. Oh dear! I don't know which story I want to
know. You are tiresome to-day, Nanny. What did Naomi say?'
'It was her sister. Naomi had nothing to do with it; she's too fond of
Miss Sarah,' said Nancy.
Horatia peeped into the drawing-room. Mrs Clay still had her eyes shut,
and by her breathing Horatia guessed what was indeed the case--that she
had fallen asleep; so Horatia gave a sigh, and resigned herself to listen
to Nancy's long-winded tale in the hope of getting at the truth in time.
'Come and sit on this seat outside the front-door, it is so hot in the
house; and, besides, I am afraid of some one coming and hearing you,' she
said, leading her nurse to a bench outside the drawing-room window.
'Now, about Naomi's sister.'
'It wasn't Naomi's sister herself,' began Nancy.
Horatia gave a groan; but so great was her anxiety to hear the truth that
she made a great effort and controlled herself. Then Nancy went on: 'He
said he'd burn the Clays out of Ousebank, and that they should have a
taste of it this very day, to show Mark Clay what he might expect if he
didn't alter his ways;' and Nancy stopped again.
'What else did Naomi say?' asked Horatia, who looked grave enough now.
'She said they'd burn the house next, or try to, and then the mills; and
that's what they will do, and very likely it'll be this night; and if it
isn't, it'll be to-morrow or the next day. And now perhaps you'll come
home with me,' Nancy wound up.
'Indeed I won't! Fancy leaving friends when they are in such trouble!'
Horatia exclaimed.
'You won't help them by staying. I know you've done some good; but it
hasn't helped, after all, and Miss Sarah's gone off and left you, and it
isn't the proper place for you at all.'
'I wonder where she is. Do you know, Nanny?' inquired Horatia, for she
had been wondering about this ever since she had turned round in the
motor to speak to Sarah, and had found that she had vanished.
'No, miss, I don't. I supposed you'd know. At any rate, she had no call
to go away at such a time, and leave you alone to take charge of her ma,
and all these dreadful things happening. I'm sure her ladyship will blame
me for not bringing you away at once; and if anything should
happen'--here Nancy threw up her hands in horror as she wound up, 'I
should never forgive myself--never, whatever the mistress might do.'
'As we're both going to be burned in our beds, according to you, you
won't have to try to forgive yourself,' observed Horatia.
'Don't talk so dreadful callous, Miss Horatia; and, if you don't mind for
yourself, you might consider me that you're running into danger,'
protested Nancy. Not that she cared about herself half so much as she did
for her young charge; but because she thought this argument might have
some weight with Horatia, who always thought of others before herself.
'You needn't stop if you're afraid. I shall write to mother to-night and
ask her to let me stay alone,' announced Horatia.
'Miss!' cried Nancy reproachfully.
Horatia gave a little laugh. 'Oh dear! there's nothing to laugh at, only
it always seems easier for me to laugh than to cry, or else I should cry
now. It is dreadful to think that all this money is wasted,' she said.
'It isn't wasted yet, and perhaps Mr Clay will see reason, though they
say he's wonderful obstinate; and if I was you, miss, I'd not meddle any
more. You meant well, no doubt; but, you see, you're very young, and it
hasn't done much good, after all; and it's best not to interfere in other
folk's business.'
The tears rose to Horatia's eyes. 'I know that. In fact, I'm afraid I've
done harm, and that's one of the reasons I must stop,' persisted Horatia.
'But you won't tell Mr Clay what I've said. Leastways, I didn't say it,'
cried Nancy, in alarm. 'Naomi said that her sister said that'----
'Oh, never mind who said it. Of course I sha'n't mention any names, but I
shall certainly warn Mr Clay of what the people mean to do.'
'Then you'll do the very harm you want to stop,' said old Nancy solemnly.
'Why?' asked Horatia.
'Because it'll only make him more determined. You don't know these
Yorkshire folk; there's nothing will turn them if they get a thing into
their heads. And let Mr Clay hear that they've threatened to burn him out
of the place, and he'll make the place too hot to hold them, and they'll
pay him out,' said the old woman shrewdly.
Horatia did not make any reply. She felt that there was some truth in
Nancy's remarks, and she gave a little sigh as she thought to herself how
difficult it was not to harm where you only meant to do good. At last she
said, 'I won't say anything to Mr Clay; but I'll have a talk with Sarah,
and she shall do as she likes.'
'She won't tell him; she knows him too well,' said Nancy, and she had
hardly uttered the words when Mrs Clay, who had evidently been dreaming,
awoke with a start, and called Horatia. 'You won't leave to-night, miss?'
the nurse said, in a last attempt.
'No, no; I really couldn't, Nanny; but we're quite safe, for there are a
lot of police guarding us.'
Nancy groaned as she went off.