The Peep-hole
The Foursome League met in Dormitory 2 after the holidays with much
clattering of tongues. Each wanted to tell her own experience, and they
all talked at once. Fil had a new way of doing her hair, and gave the
others no peace till they had duly realized and appreciated it. Verity
had been bridesmaid to a cousin, and wished to give full details of the
wedding; Nora had played hockey in a Scotch team against a Ladies' Club,
and had been promised ten minutes in an aeroplane, but the weather had
been too stormy for the flight; the disappointment--when she happened to
remember it--quite weighed down her spirits.
"If there's one thing on earth--or rather on air--I'd like to be, it's a
flying woman!" she told her friends emphatically. "I'm hoping aeroplanes
will get a little cheaper some day, and rich people will keep them
instead of motor cars. Then I'll go out as an aviatress. It's a new
career for women."
"I wouldn't trust myself to _your_ tender mercies, thank you!" shuddered
Ingred. "You'd soon bring the machine down with a crash, and smash us to
smithereens."
"Indeed I shouldn't! I'd go sailing about like a bird!"
And Nora, suiting action to words, stood on her bed fluttering her arms,
till Verity wickedly gave her a push behind, and sent her springing with
more force than grace to the floor.
"You Jumbo! You make the room shake!" exclaimed Ingred. "If that's how
you're going to land you'll dig a hole in the ground like a bomb! Do
move out, and let me get to my drawer! You're growing too big for this
bedroom!"
"Nobody's looked at my new hair ribbons yet!" interposed Fil's plaintive
voice. "See, I've got six! Aren't they beauties! Pale pink, pale blue,
Saxe blue, navy for my gym. costume, black for a useful one, and olive
green to go with my velveteen Sunday dress. Don't you think they're
nice?"
"Ripping!" agreed Nora. "We'll know where to go when we want to borrow.
There, don't look so scared, Baby! I've chopped my hair so short I
couldn't wear a ribbon if I tried! It would be off in three cracks!
Stick them back in their box, and don't tempt me! They're not in my
line! I'm going in for uniform. _You_'re the sort who wears chiffons and
laces and all the rest of it, but you'll see _me_ in gilt buttons before
I have done, with wings on them, I hope! I may be the first to fly to
Mars! Who knows? You shall all have my photo beforehand just in case!"
Everybody at the College, and particularly at the Hostel, agreed that
the first few weeks of the new term were trying. After the interval of
the holidays, the yoke of homework seemed doubly heavy, and undoubtedly
the prep. was stiffer than ever. Only certain hours were set apart for
study during the evenings at the hostel, and any girl who could not
accomplish her lessons in that time had to finish them as best she could
in odd minutes during the day, or even in bed in the mornings if she
happened to wake sufficiently early. Fil, who generally succeeded in
mastering about half her preparation and no more, railed at fate.
"I'm so unlucky!" she sighed to a sympathetic audience in No. 2. "I knew
the first ten lines of my French poetry beautifully, and I could have
said them if Mademoiselle had asked me, but of course she didn't. She
set me on those wretched irregular verbs, and they always floor me
utterly. As for the 'dictée'--I can't spell in English--let alone
French! It's not the least use for Mademoiselle to get excited and stamp
her foot at me. I shall be glad when I'm old enough to leave school. I
never mean to look at a French book again!"
"How about English spelling?" suggested Ingred. "You'll want to write a
letter occasionally!"
"I think by that time," said Fil hopefully, "somebody will have invented
a typewriter that can spell for itself. You'll just press a knob for
each word, you know!"
"There are about 3000 words in common daily use!" laughed Verity. "If
you need a knob for each, your typewriter will have to be the size of a
church organ. It'll want a room to itself!"
"Oh, but think of the convenience of it! No more hunting in the
dictionary!" declared Fil.
To add to the aggravations of the new term the weather was doubtful, and
seemed to take a spiteful pleasure in being particularly wet on hockey
afternoons. Day after day, disappointed girls would watch the streaming
rain and lament the lack of practice. To give them some form of exercise
they were assembled in the gymnasium, and held rival displays of Indian
clubs, Morris dancing, or even skipping. "The True Blues" excelled at
high jumping, "The Pioneers" at certain rigid balancing feats, "The Old
Brigade" were great at vaulting, and "The Amazons" and "The Mermaids"
performed marvels in the way of Swedish Boom exercises.
Still, everybody agreed that though the contests were fun in their way
they were not hockey, and the girls would much have preferred the
playing-fields, however wet, to the gymnasium.
The girls in the hostel had the hour between four and five o'clock at
their own disposal. They were not allowed to leave the College bounds,
but they might amuse themselves as they pleased in the garden,
playground, or gymnasium. In turns, according to the practising list,
they had to devote the time to the piano, and a few even began their
prep., though this was not greatly encouraged by Miss Burd, who thought
a short brain rest advisable. One afternoon Ingred walked along the
corridor with a big pile of music in her arms. Just outside the study
she met Verity, and saluted her:
"Cheerio, old sport! Here's Dr. Linton left his whole cargo behind him
to-day. He rushed off in a hurry and forgot it, and I know he'll be just
raging. I'm going to ask Miss Burd if I may run over into the Abbey and
leave it on the organ for him. He has a choir practice to-night, so he's
sure to find it. Will you come with me? Right-o! We'll both go in and
ask 'exeats.'"
The College was erected upon a plot of land which had originally been
part of the Abbey grounds. All the old buildings, formerly inhabited by
the monks of St. Bidulph's, and by the nuns in the adjoining convent of
St. Mary's, had long ago been swept away, and only a few ruined walls
marked their sites. The nave of the Abbey, however, had escaped, and was
still in use as a parish church, though the beautiful original chancel
and transepts had been battered down by Henry the Eighth's
Commissioners. It was only a few hundred yards from the school to the
Abbey, and Miss Burd readily gave the girls permission to take Dr.
Linton's music and leave it for him on the organ. It was the first time
either of them had been inside the church when no service was going on,
and they looked round curiously. The organ was locked, or Ingred would
certainly never have resisted the temptation to put on the fascinating
stops and pedals. She tried to lift the lid that hid the keyboards, but
with no success.
"He might have left it open!" she sighed.
"But the verger would come fussing up directly you began to play," said
Verity.
"I don't see the verger anywhere about."
"Why, no more do I, now you mention it."
"Perhaps he's slipped across to his cottage to have his tea!"
"Perhaps. I say, Ingred, what a gorgeous opportunity to explore. Let's
look round a little on our own."
There was nobody to forbid, so they started on a tour of inspection. The
places they wanted to look at were those that ordinary church-goers
never have a chance of seeing. They peeped into the choir vestry, and
Verity gave rather a gasp at the sight of an array of white surplices
hanging on the wall like a row of ghosts. They went down a narrow flight
of damp steps into a dark place where the coke was kept, they peered
into a dusty recess behind the organ, and into a room under the tower,
where spare chairs were stored. All this was immensely interesting, but
did not quite content them. Verity's ambition soared farther. Very high
up on the wall, above the glorious pillars, and just under the
clerestory windows, was a narrow passage called the Nuns' Ambulatory. It
had been built in the long-ago ages to provide exercise for the sisters
in the adjoining convent, to which a covered way had originally led.
"Just think of the poor dears parading round there on wet days when they
couldn't walk in their own garden!" said Verity, turning her head almost
upside down in her efforts to scan the passage. "I wonder if they ever
felt giddy."
"There's a balustrade, of course, but I prefer our modern gym. I believe
there's a walk all over the roof too. Athelstane went up once. He said
it was like being on the top of a mountain, and you could look all over
the town."
"What's that queer stone box thing on the wall?" asked Verity, still
gazing upwards.
Ingred followed the line of her friend's eye to a point above the
pillars but below the Nuns' Ambulatory. Here, built out like an oriel
window, was a curious closed-in-gallery of stone, pierced in places by
tiny frets. It seemed to have nothing to do with the architecture of the
Abbey, and indeed to be a sort of excrescence which had been added to it
at some later date. It spoilt the beauty of line, and would have been
better removed.
"Oh, that's the peep-hole!" said Ingred, lowering her head, for it was
painful to stretch her neck in so uncomfortable a position. "It was put
up in the seventeenth century, when the whole place was full of those
old-fashioned high pews. People were very dishonest in those days, and
thieves used to come to church on purpose to pick pockets. So they
always used to keep somebody stationed up there, looking down through
the holes over the congregation to see that no purses were taken during
the service. Nice state of things, wasn't it?"
"Rather! But I'd love to go up there. I say, the verger's still at his
tea. Shall we try?"
"Right-o! I'm game if you are!"
By the north porch there was a small oak door studded with nails.
Generally this was kept locked, but to-day, by a miracle of good
fortune, it happened to be open. It was, of course, a very unorthodox
thing for the verger to go away and leave the Abbey unattended, even for
half an hour, but vergers, after all, are only human, and enjoy a cup of
tea as much as other people who do not wear black cassocks. He was
safely seated by the fireside in his ivy-colored cottage at the other
side of the churchyard, so the girls seized their golden opportunity.
They went up and up and up, along a winding staircase for an
interminable way. It was dark, and the steps were worn with the tread of
seven centuries, and here and there was a broken bit over which they had
to clamber with care. At last, after what seemed like mounting the Tower
of Babel, they stumbled up through a narrow doorway into the most
extraordinary place in the world. They were in the garret of the roof
over the south aisle. Above them were enormous beams or rafters, and
below, a rough flooring. It was very dim and dusky, but about midway
shone a bright shaft of light evidently from some communication with the
interior of the nave. Towards this they directed their steps. It was a
difficult progress owing to the huge rafters that supported the roof. A
plank pathway about four feet above the floor had been laid across the
beams, and along this Ingred decided to venture.
She started, balancing herself with her arms, and kept her equilibrium,
though the plank was narrow and sprang as she walked. Verity, who had no
head for such achievements, preferred to scramble along the floor,
creeping under the rafters, in spite of the thick dust of years that lay
there. Eventually they both reached the radius of light, and found
another doorway leading down by a few steps into what was apparently a
cupboard. In the wall of the cupboard, however, were frets through which
the sunlight was streaming. Ingred applied an eye and gave a gasp of
satisfaction.
They were in the peep-hole on the wall of the nave, and could gaze
straight down into the church below. It was marvellous what an excellent
view they obtained. Nothing was hidden, not even the interiors of the
old-fashioned square pews that had lingered as a relic of the eighteenth
century. Anybody stationed in this spy-box would certainly be able to
keep guard over the congregation, and note any nefarious designs on the
pockets of the worshipers.
For the moment the church was empty, then footsteps were audible in the
porch. Was it the verger returning from his tea? The girls began to
flutter at the prospect of his wrath if he discovered them. It was no
cassock-clad verger that entered, however, but two young people, far too
much interested in each other to gaze upwards towards the frets of the
peep-hole. They thought they had the church to themselves, and walked
along conversing in a low tone. The particular shade of flaxen hair in
the masculine figure seemed familiar, and Ingred chuckled as she
recognized her eldest brother.
"Caught you, old boy! Caught you neatly!" she thought. "Who's the girl?
Oh, I know. It's one of the Bertrands--Queenie said they were at the
Desmonds' dance, so I suppose he met her there. What a priceless joke!
How I shall crow over him for this! They're actually going to sit down
in a pew and talk! Well, this is the limit!"
Quite unconscious that sisterly eyes were watching, Egbert ushered his
fair partner into one of the old-fashioned square pews. It was a quiet
place to rest, and perhaps the young lady was tired. He sat by her side,
very much occupied in explaining something which the girls in the
peep-hole could not overhear. At last the quiet well-trained footsteps
of the verger echoed again in the nave. He glanced at the young couple
in the pew, and began to dust and rearrange the hymn-books. Egbert and
Miss Bertrand took the hint and departed.
The pair spying through the fretwork above also judged it expedient to
beat a hasty retreat. They were terrified lest the verger should
remember that he had left the tower door open, and should lock them in.
They stumbled back among the rafters, regardless of dust, and groped
their rather perilous way down the winding staircase. To their infinite
relief the door was not shut, and they were able to creep quietly out
and bolt from the Abbey unperceived. They fled along the stone path that
edged the churchyard, then stopped under the shelter of a ruined wall to
brush the dust off their dresses before re-entering the College.
"It's been quite an adventure!" gasped Verity.
"Rather! Particularly catching old Egbert. Won't he look silly when I
bring it out before the family? I don't know whether I _will_ tell them,
though! I think I'll keep it back, so as to have something to hold over
his head when he teases me. Yes, that would be far more fun, really. I
can hint darkly that I know one of his secrets, and he'll be so puzzled.
I don't admire his taste much. Queenie detests those Bertrand girls. I
don't know them myself to speak to, but I'm not impressed. Look here,
the dust simply _won't_ come off your skirt, Verity!"
"It'll do as it is, then, and I'll use the clothes brush afterwards.
Don't worry any more. There's the Abbey clock striking five! It's a few
minutes fast, fortunately, but we shall simply have to sprint, or we
shall be late for tea!"