UNCLE ROGER'S LEGACY.
Her brother and sister were already in the tool-house when Elsie arrived
at the door. She so far conquered her fears as to enter, but could not
help one timid glance round, as though she might once more be confronted
with the ghost of William Cole. Dead or alive, however, there was no
sign of the gardener, and nothing more terrible to be seen than her old
friend the grindstone.
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Guy carried a candle which he had procured from the kitchen, and which
guttered and smoked in the draught.
"Do be careful with that light," said Ida. "You'll burn the place down
if you don't mind what you're about."
"Oh, all right!" answered Guy, preparing to drag the chest out into the
middle of the floor. "I don't think it's much heavier than usual. I do
wonder what's inside."
"Well, be quick and open it!" cried his sister, taking the candle and
holding it so that its light would fall into the chest when its lid was
raised. "Let's see for ourselves, and then we shall know for certain."
There was a moment's delay while Guy found the proper keys. First one
and then the other padlock fell with a clank on to the bricks, the iron
hasps were raised, and, with a "Here goes!" Guy flung back the lid.
Once more the children leant forward and peered down into this wonderful
box. Elsie was the first to speak, and all she said was "Oh!" But the
tone of her voice was enough to proclaim another disappointment.
Jewellery? Bank-notes? Bags of money? What was it they beheld? None of
these things, but only a bundle of papers, tied together with a piece of
faded red tape.
"Well!" cried Ida, flushing with vexation, "I'll never hope for anything
again!"
Guy picked up the bundle, and examined it more closely. The documents
were all neatly folded, and were mostly docketed on the outside in
heavy black writing. Some were of parchment; and one, he noticed, had
in one corner three small red seals on a narrow strip of green ribbon.
"I wonder what these are!" said the boy. "Bah!" he added, holding the
packet to his nose; "they smell musty enough. Let's take them in and
show them to father."
Mr. Ormond had sat down to his tea, and seemed to have already dismissed
Uncle Roger's box from his mind; the sight, however, of the children
entering the room brought it back to his remembrance.
"Well," he said, jokingly, "have you found anything?"
"Nothing particular," answered Guy. "Only this old bundle of papers."
Mr. Ormond was in the act of raising his cup of tea to his lips; he
paused, then lowered it without drinking.
"Papers!" he repeated, gazing at the packet with a puzzled look on his
face. "What papers are they? Let me see."
"Oh, never mind about it now," said Mrs. Ormond. "Drink your tea while
it's hot."
"One moment, mother," answered her husband. He untied the tape, and
glanced first at one then at another of the clearly-written inscriptions
on the folded documents. As he did so, the expression on his face became
one of unbounded astonishment; and the children, quick to observe the
change on his face, began to wonder what could be the cause of his
surprise.
"You say you found these in the old box?" he asked.
"Yes, father. What are they?"
Mrs. Ormond rose from her chair at the end of the table, and came
round to where her husband was sitting. She, too, had seen his look
of amazement, and wondered what it could mean.
"What are they, father?" repeated Guy.
"What are they?" was the reply. "Why--why, I'll tell you what they are.
This is Uncle Roger's legacy."
"Uncle Roger's legacy!" cried Ida. "D'you mean to say that all he left
you, father, was that dirty old bundle of papers? Pooh! he might have
kept them to himself!"
"You don't understand, Ida," was the answer, in a voice which showed
that her father himself was not a little excited. "These papers are
valuable."
"Oh!" cried Elsie suddenly. "Are they as valuable as bank-notes?"
"Well, yes," replied Mr. Ormond, laughing. "I think one may say they
are. They are deeds and securities which represent a nice bit of property;
and a good sum of money must have accumulated on some of them in twenty
years. In fact, I'm not sure, Elsie, if we shan't be able to consider
that promise about a pony."
There was a yell from Guy. He, Ida, and Elsie all tore round and round
the room in a state of frantic excitement.
"Hurrah! hurrah for old Uncle Roger!" cried the boy.
"But, father," exclaimed Ida, pausing at length, completely out of
breath, "if he meant it to be yours, why did he make you wait twenty
years?"
"I'm sure I can't explain," was the reply, "more than this, that he was
a curious old fellow, and often did the most eccentric things. What
puzzles me more than that is to know where these papers have suddenly
sprung from. You say you found them in the box. When did you first
discover that it had anything inside?"
"Only this afternoon," answered Guy. "We turned it up, and heard
something slide along the bottom and go bump against the end."
"Then how in the world was it that when we opened the chest the other
day it was empty?"
"We thought you must have put it in," murmured Ida. "It is strange. How
can it have happened?"
"D'you think they really were in the box all those years?" asked Mrs.
Ormond.
"Undoubtedly. Where else could they have been?"
"O father," cried Ida suddenly, "I believe you knew about them all the
time! You took them away yourself just to tease us. It's some joke."
"Indeed it isn't. I know no more about them than either of you children;
but it's a most astonishing thing, and one I should like very much to
have explained."
"Well, come out and have another look at the box," suggested Guy.
"Wait till your father's finished his tea," interposed Mrs. Ormond. "I
wonder where Brian is all this time," she added. "I wish he were back.
He'll be interested to hear of this discovery."
The children were so excited that they found it difficult to keep still.
Guy especially wandered restlessly up and down the room as though he
were a wild beast in a cage.
"I'll tell you what I believe it is," he exclaimed suddenly; "that old
box has got either a false lid or a false bottom. That's where the
papers were hidden, and in moving it about, the spring was somehow
released, and they tumbled out."
After so many surprises, the young folks were ready to believe almost
anything.
"Well, let's go out and see!" cried Ida.--"Father, you come when you've
finished your tea."
Once more there was a rush to the tool-house, Guy, this time, borrowing
a lamp from the kitchen, which gave a better light than the candle.
Certainly this old box of Uncle Roger's seemed just the very sort of
chest which one might expect to possess some concealed spring which,
when touched, would disclose a secret hiding-place; but tapping and
measurements inside and out proved that there was nothing in its
construction which caused it to differ from any other oak chest
strengthened with bands of iron.
"Well, this licks me!" exclaimed Guy, rising from his knees. "The only
explanation I can give is that the thing must be enchanted."
"I _should_ like to know what it all means," said Ida. "Perhaps father
will be able to tell when he comes. I hope he won't be long."
"Fancy a pony!" cried Elsie. "D'you think he really will give us one?"
"He said he'd consider it," answered Guy; "but I expect that means
'yes.' Hurrah! I tell you what I shall do. I shall go hunting."
The speaker gave vent to his delight by hopping about on one leg; then,
coming in contact with the grindstone, he put his foot on the treadle,
and began to work it as fast as he could.
"The water's all dried up," he said at length, when the stone stopped.
Without thinking what he was doing, he put his hand into the trough, and
began poking his fingers into the sediment which had collected at the
bottom. In the soft mud was something hard, and he picked it out. The
boy glanced carelessly at the bit of metal, and was about to throw it
away when its shape struck him as familiar.
"Hullo!" he exclaimed. "Look what I've found!"
"What is it?" asked Ida.
"Can't you see?" was the answer. "Why, it's the little knob from the
handle of that poultry-carver!"
"Then that proves Brian and I were right!" cried Elsie excitedly. "It
_was_ the carver that was being ground when I heard the stone turning
that night. Mother said the knob was loose, and it must have fallen off
into the water."
"Get away!" answered Guy obstinately. "It might have fallen off the
knife some time when William Cole had it out here to clean, and dropped
into the trough by accident. You won't get me to believe that yarn of
yours, Elsie."
Elsie was about to reply, when her sister cut short the dispute by
exclaiming, "Here's father!"
The carving-knife was for the moment forgotten. Mr. Ormond examined
the box, turned it over first on one side then on the other, rapped the
boards with his knuckles, and at length shook his head.
"I can't understand it," he said, with a puzzled smile. "It's a
mystery."
"O father! don't you think we shall ever find it out?" asked Ida.
Before Mr. Ormond had time to reply there was a sound of footsteps in
the yard, and Brian's voice was heard calling, "Uncle!"
"Hullo! Here I am. What d'you want?"
The boy came hurrying into the tool-house; there was a curious
expression on his face of excitement mingled with anxiety.
"You're wanted in the house, please, uncle--now at once."
"What for?"
"I can't explain; but please come at once. It's very important."
Mr. Ormond turned to comply with this request.
"I say," shouted Guy, anxious to be the first to break the news to his
cousin, "we've found what was in the box. It was Uncle Roger's legacy--a
bundle of papers."
"I know," answered Brian calmly.
"What!" cried Ida. "D'you know how they got there?" she added eagerly.
"Yes," replied the boy, wrenching himself free from Guy's grasp, and
starting off to follow his uncle into the house. "I can't explain it
now, but I'll tell you presently."
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