PET BEGINS HER EDUCATION.
"A horrid specter rises to my sight."
"I hear a knocking in the south entry.
Hark! more knocking!"
--MACBETH.
Throwing open the folding-doors, Mrs. Moodie passed into the
school-room, closely followed by Pet.
It was a long, high, wide room, with desks running round the walls, and
maps, globes, books and slates scattered profusely around. Before each
desk was a chair, and some sixty girls of all sizes and sorts sat now
busily conning their lessons.
Two or three teachers sat in various directions, round the room, before
little tables, with their eyes fixed on the students, ready to note down
the slightest infringement of the rules.
It was seldom the commander-in-chief of the establishment swept her
silken flounces through the hot, dusty _classe_; and now, according to
the long-established rule, teachers and pupils rose simultaneously, and
courtesied profoundly to that august lady. Then every eye in sixty-three
heads turned and fixed themselves upon the new pupil with that sharp,
searching, unpitying stare that only school-girls understand.
Petronilla, however, was not in the remotest degree troubled with that
disagreeable failing, yclept bashfulness; and glancing round
composedly, she swept the whole room at a glance, and returned every
stare with compound interest.
"Young ladies," said Mrs. Moodie, with a graceful wave of her hand
toward Pet, "this young lady is Miss Petronilla Lawless, of Judestown,
and will be your future companion and fellow-pupil. I hope you will be
mutually pleased with each other, and try to make her at home among you
as soon as possible. Miss Sharpe she will enter your division."
And, with a stately bow of her beribboned head, Mrs. Moodie rustled
loudly from the room, while teachers and pupils again bowed in deepest
reverence.
Pet gave an assenting nod to Mrs. Moodie's remarks, which had the effect
of making two or three of the young ladies, indulge in a little giggle
behind their handkerchiefs. Then, from a distant corner, came a small,
keen, wiry-looking human terrier, known by the appropriate cognomen of
Miss Sharpe, who immediately laid hands upon Pet, saying:
"Miss Lawless, come this way. You are to enter my class."
Pet, as good a physiognomist as ever lived, raised her keen eyes to the
cantankerous face of the cross-looking old young lady, and conceived,
upon the spot, a most intense dislike to her. The other girls, at a
silent motion from their teachers, had dropped into their seats, and
resumed their studies--still, however, covertly watching the new pupil
with all a schoolgirl's curiosity.
Pet was led by sharp Miss Sharpe to the remote corner from whence she
had issued, and where sat some dozen or two "juvenile ladies," all
smaller than Pet. Miss Lawless looked at them a moment in indisguised
contempt, and then stopped short, jerked herself free from Miss Sharpe's
grasp, and coming to a sudden stand-still, decidedly began:
"I ain't a-going to sit among them there little things. I want to go
over there!"
And she pointed to where a number of young ladies, whose ages might have
varied from seventeen to twenty, sat in the "First Division."
A very little thing will produce a laugh in a silent school-room, where
the pupils are ever ready to laugh at anything a new scholar does or
says; and the effect of this brief speech was a universal burst of
subdued laughter from the sixty "young ladies" aforesaid.
"Well, you can't go there!" said Miss Sharpe, sharply, looking daggers
at Pet. "You are to sit in my division--which is the lowest!"
"Yes, I see it is," said Pet; "but you needn't get so cross about it. I
should think, when my papa pays for me, I could sit wherever I like. I'm
sure this hot old room, without even a carpet on the floor, ain't much
of a place to sit in, anyway."
Another universal laugh, louder than the first, followed this; and the
sixty pairs of eyes flashed with wicked delight--for Miss Sharpe was the
detestation of the school.
"Silence!" called the head monitor, sternly.
Miss Sharpe clutched Pet's shoulder with no gentle hand, and jerked her
into a seat with an angry scowl.
"You must keep silence, Miss Lawless," she began, with asperity. "Young
ladies are not allowed to talk in the class-room. You will have to sit
wherever you are placed, and make no complaints. Such rude behavior is
not allowed here. Hold your tongue, now, and read this."
Hereupon she took from her table the "First Book of Lessons," and put it
into Pet's hand, with another scowl, darker, if possible, than the
first.
Pet took it, and holding it upside down for a while, seemed to be
intently studying, thinking all the while that life in a school-room was
not only as pleasant, but considerably pleasanter, than she had
anticipated.
But for Pet Lawless to keep silent any length of time was simply a moral
impossibility; so, finding the cross teacher's lynx eyes turned for a
moment the other way, she bent over toward her next neighbor, a little
red-eyed, red-haired girl, about her own age, and whispered, in strict
confidence, pointing to Miss Sharpe:
"Ain't she a horrid cross old thing?"
But the young lady only glanced askance at the audacious little
law-breaker at her side, and edged nervously away from her.
Petronilla not being easily affronted or slighted, however, came close
to little red-head, and holding her book to her mouth, whispered again:
"Does she ever whip you or anything? She looks cross enough to do it.
Ain't it awful, coming to school?"
Seeing there was no escape from her persecutor, red-head thrust her
knuckles into her eyes and began to cry.
"What's the matter now?" said the teacher, turning sharply round, and
looking threateningly at Pet.
"Why, Miss Sharpe, she keeps a-talking to me all the time and won't
stop," whispered the unhappy owner of the red hair.
"What is she saying?" said Miss Sharpe, in a quick, irritated voice,
that strongly reminded Pet of Dismal Hollow and Miss Priscilla
Toosypegs.
"She--she--she says you're a--a--a horrid cross old thing, please,
ma'am!" wept the little one, digging her knuckles still further into her
eyes.
Miss Sharpe's face grew black as a thunder-cloud--owing to her peculiar
complexion, she generally blushed black or deep orange. In all her
thirteen years' teaching, she had never encountered a pupil who had
dared to call her a "horrid cross old thing" before. Old!--that was the
worst. To be called so before the whole school, too! Miss Sharpe sat for
one awful moment perfectly speechless with rage, and so black in the
face that there seemed serious danger of her bursting a blood-vessel on
the spot.
Once again a loud laugh, that would not be restrained, came from the
sixty pretty mouths of the sixty young ladies so often spoken of. Even
the teachers, although they sternly called "silence!" were forced to
cough violently to hide the smile that was creeping over their faces at
Miss Sharpe's rage.
Meantime, our dauntless Pet sat with a sort of head-up-and-heels-down
look, that was a sight to see; her arms akimbo, and her bright black
eyes blazing with defiance, daringly riveted on the face of the
justly-offended teacher.
"Did--did you dare to say that, you--you impudent, impertinent--young
saucy--"
"Abandoned, outrageous son of a gun!" put in Pet, composedly.
"Silence! Did you dare to call me that--that name?"
"I didn't call you any name--I said you were a horrid cross old thing;
and I'll leave it to everybody here if you ain't! I ain't used to hold
my tongue--and I'm not going to do it, either!" said Pet, all ablaze
with defiance.
Miss Sharpe sat unable to speak, her rage almost swamped in her utter
amazement. In all her experience she had never come across so desperate
and utterly depraved a case as this. Every book was dropped, and every
eye fixed on Pet. Even the other teachers, unable longer to repress
their smiles, exchanged glances of surprise, and watched with interest
and curiosity, the little original, who sat staring at Miss Sharpe as if
for a wager.
"I--I won't endure this! I am not to be insulted in this manner!" said
Miss Sharpe, rising passionately. "I'll go and report her to Mrs.
Moodie; and either she or I must leave this class."
"My dear Miss Sharpe, be calm," said the head teacher, a pleasant-faced
young girl, as she rose and came over. "There is no use in troubling
Mrs. Moodie about the matter. This little girl, you perceive, has been
indulged and spoiled all her life, and cannot readily submit to
authority now. My dear," she added, turning to Pet, "you must sit still
and not talk. It is against the rules; and you perceive you are giving
Miss Sharpe a great deal of trouble."
"Well, so is she, just as bad! She's giving me a great deal of trouble,
too! I want to go and sit in your class."
"But you can't sit in my class, Miss Lawless. You must keep the place
allotted you. Little girls should be docile and obedient, you know, and
do as they are told. Will you sit still now, and be quiet?"
"Yes; if she lets me alone!" pointing to Miss Sharpe.
"You must do as your teacher says, child. Now, do be a good little girl,
and don't talk." And the sweet-voiced young lady patted Pet's black
curly head kindly, and went back to her place.
Miss Sharpe, looking as if she would like to pounce upon Pet, and pound
the life out of her, relapsed scowling into her seat; and Pet, curling
her lip contemptuously at the cross teacher, took a lead pencil out of
her pocket and began amusing herself drawing caricatures of her all over
the book she held in her hand.
A profound silence again fell on the hot, close _classe_, and the girls
bent over to-morrow's tasks; now and then however, smiling slyly at
each other, and glancing significantly at the new-comer, whose short
half-hour in school had already created a sensation quite unparalleled
in all the past history of the establishment, and which was destined to
fill sixty letters home to "papa and mama" next time they wrote. Then,
in half an hour more, a bell loudly rung, and every girl jumped eagerly
up. This was the signal that school for the day was dismissed; and
books, slates and pencils were hustled hastily out of sight; and two by
two the girls marched through the now open folding-doors, beginning with
the tallest, through the long hall staircase, through another hall, out
of a side-room, and into an immense play-ground, furnished with wings,
skipping-ropes, hoops and everything else necessary for recreation and
amusement.
But no longer were hoops, and swings, and skipping-ropes seized with
loud shouts as heretofore; newer and more attractive game was in view
now, and every one crowded around our Pet, surveying her with open eyes
as if she were some natural curiosity.
But Pet had no intention of standing there to be looked at and
cross-questioned; and breaking through the ring with the yell of an
Ojibewa Indian, she sprung into one of the swings, and invited "some of
'em to come and swing her."
Like hops in beer, Pet's presence seemed to throw the whole assembly in
a ferment hitherto unknown. The swings flew wildly; the skipping-ropes
went up and down with lightning-like velocity; the hoops whirled and
flew over the ground in a way that must have astonished even themselves,
if hoops ever can be astonished. The girls raced, and ran, and skipped,
and laughed as they had never done before; and the noise and uproar
waxed "fast and furious." And wherever the fun was highest, the laughter
loudest, the excitement wildest, there you might find Pet, the center
and origin of it all. Cross Miss Sharpe, who had been sent out to look
after them, and see that none of them broke their necks, if possible,
wrung her hands in despair at the awful din, and rushed hither and
thither, scolding, shaking, threatening, and vociferating at the top of
her lungs; but all in vain. They were every one going crazy--that was
evident; and that little minx, who had come there that day to throw the
whole school in convulsions, was the cause of it all.
But even school-girls, with lungs, and throats, and faces very often of
brass, must get exhausted at last; and after an hour's steady screaming
and yelling, the whole assemblage shrieked, laughed and shouted
themselves into hoarseness and comparative quiet.
Pet, somewhat fatigued after her exertions, was seated in the midst of a
group of girls, telling, in solemn tones, a most awful "raw-head and
bloody bones" ghost story, which she "made up" as she went along, and
which was destined to deprive at least twenty little individuals of a
wink of sleep that night.
Every one was bending eagerly forward, listening breathlessly to Pet,
who had just got "Jack" into the "haunted castle," and was announcing
the coming of a "great big black man, with red-hot coals for eyes, and
flames of fire coming out of his mouth," when a thin, sharp shadow fell
over them, and, looking up with a terrified start, they beheld Miss
Sharpe standing over them.
"What is she talking about now?" queried that lady, with no very amiable
glances toward Pet.
"She's telling a ghost story; that's what she's talking about!" said
Pet, instantly beginning to be provoking.
"Ghosts!" said Miss Sharpe, turning up her nose though nature had
already saved her the trouble. "Such stuff! You must not terrify the
children by telling them such things, little girl."
"It's not stuff!" said Pet; "It's as true as preaching. I've seen lots
of ghosts myself. There, now!"
"Miss Lawless, do you know where little girls that tell fibs go to?"
said Miss Sharpe, sternly.
"Yes, the same place you'll go to, I expect," said Pet, pertly; "but I
ain't telling fibs--I never do. And I have seen plenty of ghosts, too.
There's a whole settlement of them out where we live. I only wish I had
brought some of them to school with me, and then you would see. That's
all!"
"You naughty little girl!" said Miss Sharpe, angrily. "How dare you tell
me such a story? You have seen ghosts, indeed! Why, everybody knows
there is no such thing."
"What do you bet there's not?" said Pet.
"Miss Lawless, you forget to whom you are speaking!" said Miss Sharpe,
with dignity.
"No, I don't; I know very well to whom I am speaking," said Pet,
imitating her tone; "and I know just as well there are ghosts. They're
great, tall, thin people, in white, with hollow eyes, that come at
midnight and scare people. I've seen them, and I guess I ought to know."
Miss Sharpe, disdaining an altercation with the elf, who was already
bristling up in anticipation of a controversy, turned and walked away
majestically, or, at least, as majestically as her four feet eight
inches would allow.
Pet looked after her with a boding eye that told wonderful tales, if she
could only have read it; but she contented herself with mentally
exclaiming:
"Oh, I'll dose you! Maybe you won't see a ghost tonight, old Miss
Vinegar."
"There, now, go on with the story," chorused half a dozen voices, when
Miss Sharpe was gone.
"See here," said Pet, without heeding the request, "where does she--Miss
Sharpe I mean--sleep at night?"
"With us," said one of the small girls, "in the children's dormitory.
The large girls have rooms to themselves, every two of them; but we
sleep in a long room all full of beds, and Miss Sharpe sleeps there,
too."
"Hum-m-m! Do you know where I am to sleep?"
"Yes; all Miss Sharpe's division sleep in the children's dormitory.
You'll be there."
"Um-m-m! I should like to see the place. Would we be let?"
"Oh, yes. If you can get one of the girls in the First Division to go
with you, she can take you all over the house."
Off ran Pet, and without much difficulty she persuaded one of the First
Division girls to show her through the house.
The first place they visited was the children's dormitory. This was a
long room, with rows of white-curtained beds on either side for the
children, and one larger than the rest, at the further end, for Miss
Sharpe. Small washstands and mirrors were scattered around, and near
each bed was placed a small trunk belonging to the children.
Pet scanned these arrangements with a thoughtful eye. Then, turning to
her cicerone, she said:
"In which of the beds am I to sleep?"
"In this one," said the girl, indicating one at the extreme end of the
room, opposite Miss Sharpe's. "The room was full; so they had to put it
close to the window, and you will have a chance to see everybody that
passes."
Pet went over to examine. Within a few inches of the bed was a window
overlooking the street. It was partly raised now, and Pet thrust her
head out to "see what she could see," as they say. The first thing that
struck her was the fact that the window was in a straight line above the
hall door, and only removed from it the distance of a foot or two.
Instantly a demoniacal project of mischief flashed across her fertile
brain; and as she withdrew her head her wicked eyes, under their long,
drooping lashes, were fairly scintillating with the anticipation of
coming fun.
"Do they use bells or knockers on their doors, around here?" she
carelessly asked, as she flitted about.
"Some use one, some the other. There is a large brass knocker on this
door. I am sure you must have seen it."
"I had forgotten. This is my trunk, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"What time do they go to bed here?"
"Nine in summer--eight in winter."
"Hum-m-m! I know now. And do they stay out in that yard all the time?"
"Oh, no. As soon as it gets dusk we come in, have supper, and then the
larger girls practice their music, or read, or write to their friends or
study, or sew, or do whatever they like; and the little girls of your
division play about the halls and passages."
"Um-m-m! I see," said Pet, in the same musing tone, while her wicked
eyes, under their long, dark lashes, were twinkling with the very spirit
of mischief. "Could you get me a good long cord, do you think? I want it
for something."
"Yes, I think so. Do you want it now?"
"Yes, please."
"Very well; wait here till I go up to my room and get it for you," said
the unsuspecting young lady.
"Oh, ching-a-ring-a-ring-chaw!" shouted Pet, dancing round the long room
with irrepressible glee, when she found herself alone. "Oh, won't I have
fun to-night! Won't I show them what spiritual rapping is! Won't there
be weeping and gnashing of teeth before morning!
"'Mrs. MacShuttle,
She lived in a scuttle,
Along with her dog and her cat.'"
sang the imp, seizing a huge pitcher from one of the washstands and
flourishing it over her head as she sung. Round and round she whirled,
until her pitcher came furiously against the wall, and smash! in a
thousand fragments it fell on the floor.
Arrested in her dance, Firefly stood still one moment, in dismay. Here
was a winding-up of her extempore waltz quite unlooked for. There on the
floor lay the pitcher, shivered into atoms, and there stood Pet, holding
the handle still, and glancing utterly aghast from the ruins on the
floor to the fragment of crockery in her hand.
"Whew! here's a go!" was the elegant expression first jerked out of Pet
by the exigency of the case. "I expect this pitcher's been in the
establishment ever since it was an establishment, and would have been in
it as much longer only for me. Pet, child, look out! There'll be murder,
distraction, and a tearing off of our shirts! Fall of Jerusalem! won't
Miss Sharpe give me a blowing up, though!"
"Oh, Miss Lawless! what have you done?" cried the young lady, in tones
of consternation, as she suddenly entered.
"Smashed the crockery," said Pet, coolly pointing to the wreck.
"Oh, dear me! Oh, Miss Lawless! how could you do so?"
"Didn't go for to do it. Got smashed itself."
"Miss Sharpe will be very angry, Miss Lawless."
"Well, that don't worry me much," said Pet.
"I am afraid she will blame me. I should not have left you here alone,"
said the young lady, twisting her fingers in distress.
"No, she won't. I'll send out and buy another one."
"Oh, you can't. The servants are not allowed to run errands for the
young ladies without permission from Mrs. Moodie. You will have to tell
Miss Sharpe."
"Well, come along then; I'll tell her. Did you bring the string?"
"Yes, here it is. Oh, Miss Lawless! I am exceedingly sorry."
"Well--my goodness! you needn't be. An old blue pitcher! I used to throw
half a dozen of them, every day, at the servants, at home, and nobody
ever made a fuss about it. A common old blue pitcher--humph!"
"Oh! but it was different at home. They were your own, there; and Miss
Sharpe is so--queer. She will scold you dreadfully."
"Well, so will I, then--there! I can scold as long and as loud as she
can, I reckon. An old blue pitcher! Humph! Wish to gracious I had
smashed the whole set, and made one job of it."
By this time they had reached the play-ground; and making her way
through the crowd, Pet marched resolutely up to Miss Sharpe, and
confronted that lady with an expression as severe as though she were
about to have her arrested for high treason.
"Miss Sharpe, look here!" she began. "I've been upstairs and smashed an
old blue pitcher. There!"
"What!" said Miss Sharpe, knitting her brows, and rather at a loss.
"Miss Lawless was in the children's dormitory, Miss Sharpe," explained
the girl who had been Pet's guide, "and she accidentally broke one of
the pitchers. She could not help it, I assure you."
"But I know she could help it," screamed Miss Sharpe. "She has done it
on purpose, just to provoke me. Oh, you little limb you!--you unbearable
little mischief-maker! You deserve to be whipped till you can't stand."
"See here, Miss Sharpe; you'll be hoarse pretty soon, if you keep
screaming that way," said Pet, calmly.
"I'll go and tell Mrs. Moodie. I'll go this minute. Such conduct as
this, you'll see, will not be tolerated here," shrieked the exasperated
lady, shaking her fist furiously at Pet.
"Mrs. Moodie has gone out," said one of the girls.
"Then I'll tell her to-morrow. I'll--"
Here the loud ringing of a bell put a stop to further declamation, and
the girls all flew, flocking in, and marched, two by two, into another
large room, where a long supper-table was laid out.
It was almost dark when the evening meal was over. Then the larger girls
dispersed themselves to their various avocations, and the younger ones,
under the care of a gentler monitor than Miss Sharpe, raced about the
long halls and passages, and up and down-stairs.
Now was the time Pet had been waiting for. Gliding unobserved,
up-stairs, she entered the dormitory, and securing one end of the string
to the bed-post, let the remainder drop out of the window. Then
returning down-stairs, she passed unnoticed through the front hall, and
finally secured the other end of the string to the knocker of the door.
It was too dark, as she knew, for any to observe the cord in opening the
door.
This done, she returned to her companions, all aglow with delight at her
success so far; and instigated by her, the din and uproar soon grew
perfectly unbearable, and the whole phalanx were ordered off to bed half
an hour earlier than usual, to get rid of the noise.
As Judge Lawless had said, it was a rigidly strict establishment; and
the rule was that, at half-past nine, every light should be
extinguished, and all should be safely tucked up in bed. Even Mrs.
Moodie herself was no exception to this rule; for, either thinking
example better than precept, or being fond of sleeping, ten o'clock
always found her in the arms of Morpheus.
Therefore, at ten o'clock, silence, and darkness, and slumber, hung over
the establishment of Mrs. Moodie. In the children's dormitory, nestling
in their white-draped beds, the little tired pupils were sleeping the
calm, quiet sleep of childhood, undisturbed by feverish thoughts or
gloomy forebodings of the morrow. Even Miss Sharpe had testily permitted
herself to fall stiffly asleep, and lay with her mouth open, stretched
out as straight as a ramrod, and about as grim. All were asleep--all but
one.
One wicked, curly, mischief-brewing little head there was by far too
full of naughty thoughts to sleep. Pet, nestling on her pillow, was
actually quivering with suppressed delight at the coming fun.
She heard ten o'clock--eleven strike, and then she got up in bed and
commenced operations. Her first care was to steal softly to one of the
washstands, and thoroughly wet a sponge, which she placed on the
window-ledge within her reach, knowing she would soon have occasion to
use it.
Taking some phosphureted ether, which she had procured for the purpose
of "fun" before leaving home, she rubbed it carefully over her face and
hands.
Reader, did you ever see any one in the dark with their faces and hands
rubbed over with phosphureted ether? looking as though they were all on
fire--all encircled by flames? If you have, then you know how our Pet
looked then.
Sitting there, a frightful object to contemplate, she waited impatiently
for the hour of midnight to come.
The clock struck twelve, at last; the silence was so profound that the
low, soft breathing of the young sleepers around her could be plainly
heard. In her long, flowing night-wrapper, Pet got up and tiptoed softly
across the room to the bed where the cross she-dragon lay.
Now, our Pet never thought there could be the slightest danger in what
she was about to do, or, wild as she was, she would most assuredly not
have done it. She merely wished to frighten Miss Sharpe for her
obstinacy, unbelief in ghosts and crossness, and never gave the matter
another thought.
Therefore, though it was altogether an inexcusable trick, still Pet was
not so very much to blame as may at first appear.
Now she paused for a moment to contemplate the sour, grim-looking
sleeper--thinking her even more repulsive in sleep than when awake; and
then laying one hand on her face, she uttered a low, hollow groan,
destined for her ears alone.
Miss Sharpe, awakened from a deep sleep by the disagreeable and
startling consciousness of an icy-cold hand on her face, started up in
affright, and then she beheld an awful vision! A white specter by her
bedside, all in fire, with flames encircling face and hands, and sparks
of fire seemingly darting from eyes and mouth!
For one terrible moment she was unable to utter a sound for utter,
unspeakable horror. Then, with one wild piercing shriek, she buried her
head under the clothes, to shut out the awful specter. Such a shriek as
it was! No hyena, no screech-owl, no peacock ever uttered so
ear-splitting throat-rending a scream as that. No word or words in the
whole English language can give the faintest idea of that terrible
screech. Before its last vibration had died away on the air, every
sleeper in the establishment, including madame herself, had sprung out
of bed, and stood pale and trembling, listening for a repetition of that
awful cry. From twenty beds in the dormitory, twenty little sleepers
sprung, and immediately began to make night hideous with small editions
of Miss Sharpe's shriek. Gathering strength from numbers, twenty voices
rose an octave higher at every scream, and yell, after yell, in the
shrillest soprano, pierced the air, although not one of them had the
remotest idea of what it was all about.
At the first alarm, Firefly had flitted swiftly and fleetly across the
room, jumped into bed, and seizing the sponge, gave her face and hands a
vigorous rubbing; and now stood screaming with the rest, not to say
considerably louder than any of them.
"Oh, Miss Sharpe, get up! the house is on fire! we're all murdered in
our beds!" yelled Pet, going over and catching that lady by the shoulder
with a vigorous shake.
And "Oh, Miss Sharpe! Oh, Miss Sharpe! Get up. Oh-oh-oh!" shrieked the
terrified children, clustering round the bed, and those who could
springing in and shaking her.
With a disagreeable sense of being half crushed to death, Miss Sharpe
was induced to remove her head from under the clothes, and cast a quick,
terrified glance around. But the coast was clear--the awful specter was
gone.
And now another noise met her ears--the coming footsteps of every one
within the walls of the establishment, from Mrs. Moodie down to the
little maid-of-all-work in the kitchen. In they rushed, armed with
bedroom-candlesticks, rulers, ink-bottles, slate-frames, and various
other warlike weapons, prepared to do battle to the last gasp.
And then it was: "Oh, what on earth is the matter? What on earth is the
matter? What is the matter?" from every lip.
Miss Sharpe sprung out of bed and fled in terror to the side of Mrs.
Moodie.
"Oh, Mrs. Moodie, it was awful! Oh, it was dreadful! With flames of fire
coming out of its mouth, and all dressed in white. Oh, it was terrible!
Ten feet high and all in flames!" shrieked Miss Sharpe, like one
demented.
"Miss Sharpe, what in the name of Heaven is all this about?" asked the
startled Mrs. Moodie, while the sixty "young ladies" clung together,
white with mortal fear.
"Oh, Mrs. Moodie, I've seen it! It was frightful! all in flames of
fire!" screamed the terrified Miss Sharpe.
"Seen it! seen what? Explain yourself, Miss Sharpe."
"Oh, it was a ghost! a spirit! a demon! a fiend! I felt its blazing
hands cold as ice on my face. Oh, good Heaven!" And again Miss Sharpe's
shriek at the recollection resounded through the room.
"Blazing hands cold as ice! Miss Sharpe, you are crazy! Calm yourself, I
command you, and explain why we are all roused out of our beds at this
hour of night by your shrieks," said Mrs. Moodie, fixing her sharp eyes
steadily upon her.
That look of rising anger brought Miss Sharpe to her senses. Wringing
her hands, she cried out:
"Oh, I saw a ghost, Mrs. Moodie; an awful ghost! It came to my bedside
all on fire, and--"
"A ghost! nonsense, Miss Sharpe!" broke out the now thoroughly enraged
Mrs. Moodie, as she caught Miss Sharpe by the shoulder, and shook her
soundly. "You have been dreaming; you have had the nightmare; you are
crazy! A pretty thing, indeed! that the whole house is to be aroused and
terrified in this way. I am ashamed of you, Miss Sharpe, and you ought
to be ashamed of yourself to terrify those little children committed to
your charge in this manner. I never heard of anything so abominable in
my life before," said the angry Mrs. Moodie.
"Oh, indeed, indeed I saw it! Oh, indeed, indeed I did!" protested Miss
Sharpe, wringing her hands.
"Silence, Miss Sharpe! don't make a fool of yourself! I'm surprised at
you! a woman of your years giving way to such silly fancies. You saw
it, indeed! A nice teacher you are to watch young children! Return to
your beds, young ladies; and do you, Miss Sharpe, return to yours; and
don't let me ever hear anything more about ghosts, or I shall instantly
dismiss you. Ghosts, indeed! you're a downright fool, Miss
Sharpe--that's what you are!" exclaimed the exasperated lady.
But even the threat of dismissal could not totally overcome Miss
Sharpe's fears now, and catching hold of Mrs. Moodie's night-robe as she
was turning away, she wildly exclaimed:
"Oh, Mrs. Moodie, let us have a light in the room for this night at
least! I cannot sleep a wink unless you do."
"Miss Sharpe, hold your tongue! Do you see how you have frightened these
children? Go to bed and mind your business. Young ladies, I think I told
you before to go to your rooms--did I not?" said Mrs. Moodie, with still
increasing anger.
Trembling and terrified, the girls scampered like frightened doves back
to their nests; and Mrs. Moodie, outraged and indignant, tramped her way
to the bed she had so lately vacated, inwardly vowing to discharge Miss
Sharpe as soon as ever she could get another to take her place.
And then the children in the dormitory crept shivering into bed, and
wrapped their heads up in the bedclothes, trembling at every sound. And
Miss Sharpe, quivering in dread, shrunk into the smallest possible space
in hers, and having twisted herself into a round ball under the quilts,
tightly shut her eyes, and firmly resolved that nothing in the earth, or
in the waters under the earth, should make her open those eyes again
that night. And our wicked Firefly chuckling inwardly over the success
of her plot, jumped into hers, thinking of the fun yet to come.
An hour passed. One o'clock struck; then two, before sleep began to
visit the drowsy eyelids of the roused slumberers again. Having assured
herself that they had really fallen asleep at last, Pet sat up in bed
softly, opened the window an inch or two, screened from view--had any
one been watching her, which there was not--by the white curtains of the
bed.
Then lying composedly back on her pillow, she took hold of her string,
and began pulling away.
Knock! knock! knock! knock! Rap! rap! rap! rap! rap!
The clamor was deafening; the music was awful at that silent hour of the
night. Up and down the huge brass knocker thundered, waking a peal of
echoes that rung and rung through the house.
Once again the house was aroused; once again every sleeper sprung out of
bed, in terror, wonder, and consternation.
"Oh, holy saints! what is that? Oh, good heavens! what can that be at
this time?" came simultaneously from every lip.
Knock! knock! knock! Rap! rap! rap! louder and louder still.
Every girl flitted from her room, and a universal rush was made for the
apartments of Mrs. Moodie--all but the inmates of the dormitory. Miss
Sharpe was too terrified to stir, and the children, following her lead,
contented themselves with lying still, and renewing their screams where
they had left them off an hour or so before.
Now Mrs. Moodie, half-distracted, rushed out, and encountered her forty
terrified pupils in the hall.
"Oh, Mrs. Moodie! what has happened to-night? We will all be killed! Oh,
listen to that!"
Knock! knock! knock! knock! knock! The clamor was deafening.
"We had better open the door, or they will break it down!" said Mrs.
Moodie, her teeth chattering with terror.
"Send for Bridget; she is afraid of nothing!" suggested one of the
trembling girls.
Two or three of the most courageous made a rush for the kitchen; and
Bridget--a strapping nymph of five feet nine, and "stout according"--was
routed out of bed, to storm the breech.
"Faith, thin, I'll open the door, if it was the divil himself!"
exclaimed Bridget, resolutely, as she grasped the poker, and, like the
leader of a forlorn hope, turned the key in the door.
Back she swung it with a jerk. The knocking instantly ceased. Up flew
the poker, and down it descended with a whack, upon--vacancy! There was
no one there!
"The Lord be between us an' harm!" exclaimed Bridget, recoiling back.
"The divil a one's there, good, bad, or indifferint!"
"They must have run away when you opened the door!" said Mrs. Moodie, in
trembling tones. "There is certainly some one there!"
Bridget descended the steps, and looked up and down the street; but all
was silent, lonely, and deserted--not a living creature was to be seen.
"Come in, and lock the door," said the appalled Mrs. Moodie. "What in
the name of Heaven could it have been?"
"Oh, the house is haunted!--the house is haunted!" came from the white
lips of the young ladies. "Oh, Mrs. Moodie! do not ask us to go back to
our rooms. We dare not. Let us stay with you until morning!"
"Very well," said Mrs. Moodie, not sorry to have company; "come into my
room. Bridget, bring lights."
The door was unlocked. The frightened girls hustled, pale, and
frightened, and shivering with superstition, awe and undefined
apprehension, into Mrs. Moodie's room; while that lady herself,
crouching in their midst, was scarcely less terrified than they. Bridget
brought in lights; and their coming renewed the courage the darkness had
totally quenched.
"Now, Mistress Moodie, ma'am," said Bridget, crossing her arms with grim
determination, "I'm goin' to sit at that door till mornin', if its
plazin' to ye, and if thim blackguardly spalpeens comes knockin' dacint
people out av their beds ag'in, be this an' that, I'll l've the mark of
me five fingers on thim, as sure as my name's Biddy Malone!"
"Very well, Bridget," said Mrs. Moodie. "It may be some
wickedly-disposed person wishing to frighten the young ladies; and if it
is, the heaviest penalties of the law shall be inflicted on them."
Arming herself with the poker, Bridget softly turned the key in the
door, and laid her hand on the lock, ready to open it at a second's
notice.
Scarcely had she taken her stand, when knock! knock! it began again; but
the third rap was abruptly cut short by her violently jerking the door
open, and lifting the poker for a blow that would have done honor to
Donnybrook Fair. But a second time it fell, with a loud crack,
upon--nothing! Far or near, not a soul was to be seen. Bridget was
dismayed. For the first time in her life, a sensation of terror filled
her brave Irish heart. Slamming the door violently to, she locked it
again, and rushed with open eyes and mouth, into the room where the
terror-stricken mistress and pupils sat terrified with fear.
"Faith, it's the divil himself that's at it! Lord, pardon me for namin'
him! Och, holy martyrs! look down on us this night for a poor,
disconsolate set ov craythers, and the Cross of Christ be between us and
all harm!"
And dropping a little bob of a courtesy, Bridget devoutly cut the sign
of the cross on her forehead with her thumb.
Unable to speak or move with terror, mistress, pupils, and servants
crouched together, longing and praying wildly for morning to come.
Again the knocking commenced, and continued, without intermission, for
one whole mortal hour. Even the neighbors began to be alarmed at the
unusual din, and windows were opened, and night-capped heads thrust out
to see who it was who knocked so incessantly. Three o'clock struck, and
then, Pet beginning to feel terribly sleepy, and quite satisfied with
the fun she had had all night, cut the cord, and drew it up. The
clamors, of course, instantly ceased; and five minutes after, Firefly,
the wicked cause of all this trouble, was peacefully sleeping.
But no other eye in the house was destined to close that night--or
rather, morning. Huddled together below, the frightened flock waited for
the first glimpse of morning sunlight, thinking all the while that never
was there a night so long as that. Up in the children's dormitory,
all--from Miss Sharpe downward--lay in a cold perspiration of dread,
trembling to stay where they were, yet not daring to get up and join
their companions below.
"I'll never stay another night in this dreadful place if I only live to
see morning!" was the inward exclamation of every teacher and pupil who
could by any means leave.
And so, in sleepless watchfulness, the dark, silent hours of morning
wore on; and the first bright ray of another day's sunlight streaming in
through the windows, never beheld an assemblage of paler or more
terrified faces than were gathered together in the establishment of Mrs.
Moodie.