Belle, looking still very unlike herself, lay in Billie's little brass
bed, propped up on pillows.
"How can you and Miss Campbell be so kind to me," she was saying, "when
you know how wicked I have been?"
"But you are sorry and that means everything," answered Billie, who was
sitting on the side of the bed, feeding her hot beef tea.
"When are the others coming?" asked the invalid.
"They have come. I was just going to tell you after you had finished the
tea. Shall I call them?"
Belle nodded, and presently Miss Gray and Mary Price came into the room.
The Principal took the sick girl's hand kindly.
"Speak out from the heart, Belle," she said, "and don't be afraid. You
will be much happier when you get it off your mind."
"I promise to, Miss Gray," replied Belle meekly, gazing miserably at
Mary, who looked pale and ill.
Miss Gray sat in a judicial looking armchair; Mary, with closed eyes,
lay on a lounge near the fire, and Billie seated herself on the foot of
the bed.
"I suppose," began Belle, "it would be almost impossible for you to
believe that a well brought up girl of decent family could be as wicked
as I have been. When I finally realized what I had done I thought I
would rather run away to South America with those terrible people than
stay here and bear the shame of it all. But I thank heavens for the
storm. The ship was not sailing for any good purpose. I feel sure of
that.
"To begin at the beginning, perhaps you didn't know how angry I was when
you joined the Blue Birds, Billie? I hope I shall never be angry again.
I was ill from it and I lay on my bed all afternoon planning a revenge
on all the Blue Birds, but you, especially. I think I must have been
insane with rage and mortification. I wanted to humiliate you, because I
thought you had humiliated me before the whole school. I thought of
dozens of ways of doing it, but the only plan that seemed good enough
was to prove----"
She paused and bit her lip.
"To prove that you were--a--thief."
There was a long silence. Nothing could be heard but the ticking of the
little French clock on the mantel. Miss Gray had started and flushed
crimson. She was only just now realizing what this confession must mean
to the two girls.
"I asked Fannie Alta to help me because she was the only outsider in the
class, but I never dreamed that she was a real thief, herself. She found
out what it was I wanted her to do almost before I had half breathed it
to myself, only she was afraid of Billie and put it on Mary. It was my
twenty dollars she used, but we found the scheme didn't work. Anyhow,
she told it all over school and went so much farther than I had intended
that I soon found myself too deeply involved to get out. She and her
mother owned me, body and soul. I had to take Fannie with me everywhere
I went, even to Mrs. St. Clair's. I had to give her my clothes, and
explain to mamma that she was my best friend. Her mother made me carry
letters and messages back and forth. Once I had to go by myself all the
way to Boulder Lane after dusk and meet a horrible creature who had only
one eye and one arm. He gave me a letter for Mme. Alta. Another time I
was to meet one of them, a man who helped him, up in the Sophomore class
room of the High School. I didn't go, because there was such a mist."
Billie and Mary exchanged glances.
"He was the man who robbed us of the fifty dollars," said Billie.
"Then whose fifty dollars was it I got?" demanded Miss Gray.
"My monthly allowance," replied Billie.
"Foolish, foolish girls," said the Principal. "But it was my own fault.
I blame no one else, and perhaps I wouldn't have believed the story just
at that time."
"Then," continued Belle, "the most dreadful thing of all happened. These
people were always in need of money. Everything they had seemed to go to
some object. The one-eyed man, who was Fannie's stepfather, was to get
some high position in South America. She used to tell me what she was
going to do when he was made Vice President, or something. When we went
to the St. Clair's, Fannie was almost unbearable. She made me give her
my dress and I had to wear hers, and she insulted me at every turn. But
I didn't find out until after the party that her stepfather had been
there dressed as a ghost. He wanted to rob Mrs. St. Clair. It was Fannie
who took the necklace. She was to go back later and give it to him, so
that if her bag was searched the next morning, when the necklace was
missed, it wouldn't be found. But she made me go back instead, after
every one else was asleep, I supposed. It was terrible, when I found
myself alone in the attic, with the necklace hidden under my wrapper. No
one was there. The man must have been frightened and run away. Then I
heard all of you come and I threw a sheet over me and hid in a far
corner."
"It _was_ you, then?" exclaimed Billie.
"Yes, and when I met you and Mary I had the necklace with me and I
didn't think I had strength enough to get to my room. When we got home
from Mrs. Ruggles' next day and I found Fannie had been sent to town, I
knew something had happened. I thought perhaps she might have taken the
necklace with her, but the next morning, when you and Mary left before
breakfast, I was certain that one of you had been accused.
"You never can understand how I suffered. And yet it was what I had
planned when I was so angry. Late Monday afternoon Mr. Bangs, a
detective, came to see me. He wrote across his card 'Pierre Lafitte,'
and I was convinced then that he knew everything."
"You did tell Fannie about the card that was in the box of jewels,
then?"
Belle hung her head.
"Yes," she said, at last. "In the very beginning, before I had learned
to loathe her and myself so, I told it to Fannie.
"After Mr. Bangs had left," she went on, "I hurried as fast as I could
to Mme. Alta's lodgings and told her that everything had been
discovered. The husband came in while I was there and ordered her to
leave at once. The ship was in the harbor, he said. I was ordered to go,
too, and it really did seem best. I felt I should be disgraced if I
stayed and I was too miserable to reason much, anyway. They were glad to
go. They hated it here, and they were afraid to leave me, I suppose, for
fear I would tell. Ever since they were almost caught in Smugglers'
Cave, they have been very careful.
"I have made a great many people suffer," Belle went on, "Mary and
Billie and Mrs. Price and Mrs. St. Clair, and I have suffered, too,
perhaps more than any of you. But I have learned a great deal. I never
knew before what a wicked, spoiled girl I was. Mamma and papa never
denied me anything in my life. I have been indulged and petted until I
have been nothing but a bundle of selfishness. When the ship was wrecked
and we thought we were going to sink any minute the scales dropped
entirely from my eyes and I saw myself as I really was. I knelt on the
deck and prayed and prayed for forgiveness until they came and told me
it was my turn to be taken to shore.
"You will forgive me, won't you Mary? I will do everything I can to make
up for the trouble and unhappiness I have caused you."
Belle stretched out her arms toward Mary and tears flowed down her
cheeks and splashed on the coverlid.
Miss Gray wiped her eyes and Billie's face worked convulsively for a
moment and she choked back a lump which would rise in her throat on
occasions.
Mary came over and took Belle's hands.
"Of course I forgive you, Belle," she said, kissing the repentant girl
on the lips.
"But I must ask your forgiveness, too, Mary," cried Miss Gray. "I feel I
am not fit to be the principal of the High School to have so misjudged
you. It was only the strange way you acted about the fifty dollars which
made me credit for a moment the stories that were told."
When peace was entirely restored, Miss Gray took her departure. She did
not return to the High School, but hurried to the livery stable, where
she ordered a carriage and had herself driven straight to Mrs. St.
Clair's.
As Belle will not again appear in this story, you will perhaps be
interested to know how sincere her reformation really was. Her mother
and father scarcely recognized the pale, quiet girl who returned to them
in another day. Her entire nature had been shaken by the experience, and
for some time she was dazed and silent. But no one ever saw her angry
again, and as if she wished to give some visible sign of her repentance,
the red rubber curlers were thrown away and from that time she has worn
her hair straight.
There was no evidence against Mme. Alta or Fannie, except what Belle
Rogers could furnish, and they were finally allowed to go free. But they
were not permitted to remain in quiet West Haven, where suspicious
characters were not welcomed.
The police cared little for the music teacher and her daughter. The
prize they looked for was Ruiz, the famous filibuster and desperado who
had smuggled hundreds of rifles into Venezuela and had robbed and
pillaged and even killed, but had never been caught.
Detective Bangs, standing on the shore, the day of the shipwreck,
scanned eagerly the face of each sailor as he was drawn ashore. But Ruiz
was not among them. It was supposed that he preferred death to arrest;
for he remained on the sinking ship. But the sturdy little vessel clung
desperately to the Serpent's Fang until after sunset, and there are some
who believe that Ruiz swam ashore with his one arm, which was as strong
as iron, and is still at large somewhere working mischief and
misfortune.
On the day after the departure of Mme. Alta and Fannie, Miss Gray called
a meeting of the Faculty and pupils of West Haven High School. Mary
Price was there and so was Billie, and in the gallery sat Mrs. Price
between Mrs. St. Clair and Miss Campbell.
"I called this meeting," said Miss Gray, "because I wanted to make an
announcement to all of you at once, since the subject of the
announcement concerns us all. We have recently had a very clever thief
in our midst. She has robbed many of you and has brought unjust
suspicion on some innocent persons by spreading reports. This girl has
been dismissed from the school and from West Haven. She will never
trouble us again.
"Some of us have suffered deeply for the last few weeks on account of
this disgrace and scandal in the school, and I don't mind confessing
that I have been one of those persons. I know that you will all rejoice
with me that the affair is concluded.
"I want to say further, that at a specially called meeting, the Board of
Education has consented to add a new post to the school force. This
position, which is that of private and confidential secretary to the
principal and has a salary attached, is to be filled by Miss Mary Price.
I hope you will all congratulate me on my good fortune in obtaining so
competent and reliable an assistant."
There was wild applause when this announcement was made and Mary,
smiling and happy, with her three devoted friends about her, was obliged
to rise and bow her blushing acknowledgments to her schoolmates.