When they reached Ten Eyck Hall, it was with relief that the young
people learned that the others had gone motoring for the afternoon, and
would probably not be back until dinner time. Stephen put Jimmie under
the care of the housekeeper, who bound up his wounds in absorbent cotton
saturated with witch hazel. The girls disappeared into their own room,
but not before Bab had cautioned Stephen to bring them word about José.
The information came in the form of a few scribbled lines on the tea
tray.
"John tells me," the note ran, "that José was off on his motor cycle
until lunch time. S."
The two girls read the note excitedly.
"Bab, dear," cried Ruth, "I simply can't believe it of that nice boy,
can you?"
"I don't want to believe it," replied Bab, "even though appearances are
against him."
"But who could the joker in the woods have been, if not José?" continued
Ruth. "And, come to think of it, he might have been the highwayman, too.
It would not have been difficult for him to have found out at the hotel
where we were going. I am afraid he is in an awful mess, yet, in spite
of everything, there is something about him that disarms suspicion."
Ruth was a loyal friend to people she liked. She believed that her
chosen circle consisted of a superior class of beings, and she was as
blind to their faults as a mother to those of her favorite child. There
was a tap on the door, and the maid informed them that Zerlina, the
Gypsy girl, wished to speak to them.
"Send her up," said Ruth, and presently Zerlina was ushered into the
room.
There was a scared look in her eyes as they wandered hastily around the
charming apartment and finally rested on the two girls who were
stretched on the bed in muslin kimonos.
"How do you do, Zerlina?" said Ruth. "Excuse our not getting up. We are
just dead tired. Won't you have a cup of tea?"
"Thank you," replied the Gypsy stiffly, "I do not care for tea. I
came----" she paused. "I thought----" she hesitated again.
"Well, Zerlina, what did you think?" asked Ruth.
Bab was looking at the girl curiously.
"I came because you asked me," she said finally.
"So we did," replied Ruth, "and we are delighted to see you. Did your
grandmother come with you?"
"No," answered Zerlina and paused again.
"Perhaps you had some special reason for coming, Zerlina," hinted Bab.
"Was it to ask us a question?"
The girl's face took on the same stubborn expression it had worn when
Bab had asked her to show the knife used in the dance.
"I came because you asked me," she repeated, in the same sing-song tone.
Again there was a tap at the door and Bridget appeared, bringing a note
for Bab.
"Another note from Stephen," observed Bab, reading it carefully and
handing it to Ruth. The note said:
"If you and Ruth don't mind, kindly keep the fight, if possible, a
secret from everybody for a day or two. It would be necessary to explain
about the pistols, and if José is the man who owns them, telling would
give everything away. I shall tell uncle, of course. People will think
that Jimmie fell out of a tree or down into a hollow. Keep as quiet as
possible about the particulars of our adventure. S."
"I'm sorry," exclaimed Ruth; "it would have been such fun to tell it
all."
"The telling is only a pleasure deferred for a while," said her friend.
In the meantime, the Gypsy girl had lost nothing of the conversation
except the contents of the note, which Bab had rolled into a little ball
and thrown into a waste paper basket.
"Will the ladies not show me some of their beautiful dresses?" asked
Zerlina presently.
"We haven't much to show," replied Ruth, "but we'll be glad to show what
we have." She pulled herself lazily from the bed and opened the door of
a wardrobe at one side of the room.
"Ruth, you show her your fine things," called Bab. "I haven't a rag
worth seeing. Get out your pink lingerie and your leghorn with the
shaded roses. They would please her eye."
"Why don't you show her your organdie, Bab?" asked Ruth. "It's just as
pretty as my pink, any day."
"Oh, very well," returned Bab, opening her side of the massive clothes
press and spreading the dress on the bed before the admiring eyes of
Zerlina. "'A poor thing, but mine own,'" she said. "I certainly never
thought to be displaying my rich wardrobe to anyone. It's entirely a new
sensation."
In the meantime Ruth had piled her own gauzy finery on the bed beside
Bab's, and Zerlina feasted her gaze on the pink lace-trimmed princess
dresses and the flower bedecked hats.
"Some day you must have pretty dresses, too, Zerlina," said Ruth from
the depths of the wardrobe, as she replaced the things; "some day when
you are a great singer."
There was no reply, and Bab, who was busy folding her dress, looked
quickly around. Zerlina's arm was in the scrap basket. She had looked up
as Ruth spoke, and catching Bab's eye, dropped the crumpled note she had
just seized. An angry blush overspread her face and she bit her lip in
embarrassment.
"I must be going," she said. "It is late."
Bab did not answer. She was thinking deeply. Here was positive proof
that Zerlina and José were working together in some way.
"Wait a minute, Zerlina," called Ruth, kindly. "Won't you accept this
red velvet bow? It would look pretty in your black hair."
"Thank you," exclaimed the girl, her eyes filling with tears. "You are
very good to me." Her lip trembled as if she were about to burst into
tears, but she conquered them with an effort and started to the door.
"Good-bye," she said, looking at Bab so reproachfully that the latter's
heart was melted to pity.
At dinner that night there was much concern expressed for poor Jimmie
who, with his face swathed in bandages, was sound asleep in his own
room. Stephen had been closeted with his uncle for half an hour before
the gong sounded, and the major's usually placid face was haunted by an
expression of deep worry.
"Do tell us about the hermit, Stephen," cried Grace, and that being a
safe subject the four adventurers plunged into a description of the
strange old man and the miniature that so resembled Bab.
"Do you remember when he came, Major?" asked Miss Stuart.
"Only vaguely," replied the major, "I was quite a little chap then,
eight or ten, I think I was, and we were living in France at the time.
He had become a fixture when we came back, but he always shunned
advances from my family. Undoubtedly he was a fugitive from somewhere.
However, this is not such an out-of-the-way place but that he could have
been found if they had looked for him very hard. I have not seen him for
many years. How does he look?"
"Like an exiled prince," answered Ruth. "He is a very noble looking old
man."
"José, did you play croquet with the girls this morning?" asked Stephen.
"Wasn't he mean?" interrupted Mollie. "No sooner had you gone than he
was off on his motor cycle."
The young Spaniard's face had flushed scarlet at the question, but he
smiled at Mollie's teasing reply and looked Stephen squarely in the eye.
"It must have been rather hot work motoring this morning, wasn't it,
José?" went on Stephen.
"I went only to the forest," answered José.
The four friends stirred uneasily, and the major looked down at his
plate. It hurt him deeply to see José put on the rack in this way.
"How far did you go into the woods, José? It's curious we didn't meet
you."
"Only to the haunted pool," replied José.
"You were not far off, then," said Stephen. "Did you hear us yodeling?"
"No," answered José; "er--that is, yes. I did hear something like that,
but I was not there long." His face was still flushed and he looked as
if he would like to run away from his inquisitors; but the soft-hearted
major could endure the painful situation no longer and he changed the
conversation to another topic.
"Why don't you young people ever dance?" he asked. "I had planned to see
young couples whirling around the red drawing room. It would be a pretty
sight, Sallie. Would it not?"
"I have a plan," broke in Mollie, "but I can't tell it now. It's to be a
surprise for Miss Sallie and the major."
"Dear me!" exclaimed Miss Sallie. "Are we to feel honored or slighted,
Major?"
"Oh, not slighted," protested Mollie. "It is something that will amuse
you."
"What is it?" asked a voice from the doorway. "I am palpitating to
know."
Everybody looked up in surprise at the apparition of Jimmie regarding
the company gravely with his one good eye. His other eye was swathed in
a bandage, and his nose was swollen and red. There was a joyous peal of
laughter from the assembled party.
"Why, Jimmie," cried Martin, "you look like an exhausted Dutchman."
"Don't throw stones, my son," replied Jimmie. "You're a Dutchman
yourself, remember."
"Come in and have some dinner, Jimmie," coaxed the major.
"I've dined, thank you, sir. My kind nurse saw to that, and I feel
considerably better."
"How did you happen to black your eye, you poor boy?" asked Mollie.
Stephen cleared his throat audibly. Why on earth had he not cautioned
Mollie not to ask Jimmie any questions? But Ruth came to the rescue and
he breathed a sigh of relief.
"You mustn't ask Jimmie embarrassing questions, Mollie. A black eye and
a red nose are enough to bear for the present."
The major relieved the situation by saying:
"Now, Mistress Mollie, we are ready to be surprised."
"Come on," said Stephen, taking Jimmie by the arm, and as they stood
aside, he whispered into his ear: "Keep it dark about the tramps. Uncle
will explain."
"The surprise is this," explained Mollie, detaining the young people in
the hall. "Why not give our masquerade to-night?"
"This is as good a time as any other," agreed Martin.
"Oh, you children!" exclaimed Stephen.
"Don't be a wet blanket, Stephen," said Martin.
"Oh, I simply thought perhaps the girls might be tired or something,"
replied Stephen. "We'll all dress up if you like."
"What fun!" cried Mollie. "José, you're to be a pirate, remember."
"I think José would make a good highwayman," observed Bab, "with a knife
in his belt and a slouch hat on." She had no sooner spoken than she
repented her words.
"Perhaps I would, Mademoiselle," he replied gently, with a deep sigh.