In Quarantine
However excellent the arrangements of a school, and however happy the
girls may be there, the word "holidays" nevertheless holds a magic
attraction. Miss Birks's pupils thoroughly appreciated the Dower House,
but they would not have been human if they had not rejoiced openly in
the immediate prospect of breaking-up day. Already preparations were
being made for the general exodus; the gardener was carrying down trunks
from the box-room, Miss Harding was checking the linen lists, and the
girls were sorting the contents of their drawers and deciding what must
be left and what taken home.
"These are going to be extra-special holidays," triumphed Deirdre. "You
know, my sister's at school at Madame Mesurier's, near Versailles? Well,
Mother and I are to have ten days in Paris, so that we can see Eileen
and take her about. Won't it be absolutely ripping? I've never been
abroad before, and I'm just living for it. We're to go and see all the
sights. Eileen's looking forward to it as much as I am."
"I'm going to stay with my cousins in Hampshire," said Dulcie. "They're
mad on horses, so I shall get some riding. They always give me 'Vicky',
the sweetest little chestnut cob. She goes like a bird, and yet she's so
gentle. When we're not riding we play golf. Their links are gorgeous."
"Where are you going, Gerda?" asked Deirdre.
"To London, to meet Mother," replied Gerda, with a light in her eyes
such as the chums had not seen since she arrived. She offered no details
of further plans, but evidently the prospect satisfied her. All three
girls were counting the hours till their departure. There is a dour old
proverb, however, which states that "there's many a slip 'twixt cup and
lip", and for once its pessimistic philosophy was justified.
On the very morning of the breaking-up day Deirdre, who had passed a
funny, feverish night, woke up to find her face covered with a rash.
Dulcie went for Miss Birks, who, after inspecting the invalid and
finding on enquiry that both Dulcie and Gerda had slight sore throats,
forbade the three to leave their bedroom until they had been seen by a
medical man. Very much disconcerted, they took breakfast in bed.
"It may be only nettle-rash," said Deirdre. "I had it once before when
I'd eaten something that disagreed with me."
"And I expect Gerda and I caught cold on the warren yesterday. No doubt
it's nothing," said Dulcie, trying to thrust away the horrible
apprehensions that oppressed her.
When Dr. Jones arrived, however, and examined his patients he sounded
the death-knell of their hopes. He pronounced Deirdre to be suffering
from a slight attack of German measles, and from Dulcie's and Gerda's
symptoms diagnosed that they were sickening for the same complaint.
"The rash will probably be out to-morrow," he announced. "With care in
the initial stages it should prove nothing serious, but for the present
they are as well in bed."
The three victims could hardly believe the calamity that had overtaken
them. To stop in bed with measles when their boxes were packed and the
last things ready to go into their hand-bags, and their trains arranged
and their relations notified of the time of their arrival!
"It's--it's rotten!" exclaimed Deirdre, turning her flushed face to the
wall.
"If it's German measles I believe it's your fault, Gerda!" declared
Dulcie, weeping openly.
"I didn't start them!" objected poor Gerda.
"You've had them packed in your box, then!" snapped Dulcie, who was
thoroughly cross and unreasonable. "Oh, won't it make a pretty
hullaballoo in the school?"
The sympathies of the moment might well be with Miss Birks. She had
caused each of her remaining seventeen pupils to be examined by the
doctor, and as all appeared free from symptoms was sending off seventeen
telegrams to inform parents of the circumstances and ask if they wished
their daughters to return home or to remain in quarantine. Without
exception the replies were in favour of travelling, so the usual cabs
and luggage carts drove up, and the girls, rejoicing greatly, were
packed off under Miss Harding's escort by the midday train to Sidcombe
Junction, where they would change for their various destinations.
In spite of strict injunctions to keep warm, Deirdre got out of bed and
watched the departure from the window.
"To think that I ought to have been sitting inside that bus, and my box
ought to have been on that cart!" she lamented. "Oh, I could howl!
Mother will have got our tickets for Paris. I wonder if she'll go
without me? Oh, why didn't I powder my face and say nothing about it?"
"You couldn't have hidden that rash! Besides, it's horribly dangerous to
catch cold on the top of measles. Get back into bed, you silly! I'll
tell Miss Birks if you don't! Do you want what the doctor called
'complications'? I think you're the biggest lunatic I know, standing in
your night-dress by an open window!" Dulcie's remarks were sage if not
complimentary, so Deirdre tore herself away from the tantalizing
spectacle of the start below and dutifully returned to her pillow just
in time to save herself from being found out of bed by Miss Birks, who,
having said good-bye to the travellers, came upstairs to condole with
the three invalids.
"I can't think how we caught it!" sighed Dulcie.
"At our performance of _Coriolanus_, I'm afraid," said Miss Birks. "Dr.
Jones tells me that all the little Hargreaves are down with it. He was
called in to attend them yesterday. Probably they were sickening for it
and gave you the infection."
"I hope Ronnie won't have caught it!" gasped Gerda.
"I trust not, indeed. I shan't feel easy till I have sent to the Castle
to enquire about him. It certainly is the most unfortunate happening.
But Deirdre may be glad she had not started for Paris. There is nothing
so miserable or so disastrously expensive as to be laid up in a foreign
hotel. The proprietor would have demanded large compensation for
measles, even if he had allowed her to remain in the house. Probably she
would have been removed to a fever hospital."
"Not a pleasant way of seeing Paris!" said Deirdre, summoning up a
smile.
"You'll have a holiday there another time, I'm sure. And now you must
all be brave girls and try to make the best of things. Fortunately, none
of you seem likely to be really ill. We'll do what we can to amuse
ourselves."
Miss Birks spoke brightly, and her cheery manner hid her own
disappointment, though she might justly have indulged in a grumble, for
she had been obliged to cancel all her arrangements for a motor tour and
stay to attend to her young patients. The responsibility of looking
after them and the subsequent disinfecting which must be done would
completely spoil her holiday. She was not a woman to think of herself,
however, and she put her aspect of the case so entirely aside that the
girls never even suspected that her regrets were equal, if not superior
to their own.
As the doctor had prophesied, both Dulcie and Gerda developed the rash
on the following day. Fortunately, all three girls had the complaint
very slightly, and beyond a touch of sore throat and sneezing were not
troubled with any very disagreeable symptoms.
"The microbes have only fought a half-hearted battle, and they are
retiring worsted," declared Miss Birks; "they're not as savage as
scarlet-fever germs."
"Quite tame ones," laughed Dulcie.
"Germs 'made in Germany' aren't likely to be A1," said Deirdre, with a
quip at Gerda.
After a day or two in bed, Dr. Jones pronounced his patients
convalescent, gave them permission to go downstairs, and held out the
promise of a walk on the warren if they continued to improve. Their
period of isolation was a fortnight, after which they were to be allowed
to go home for the remaining week of the holidays. If it had not been
for the thought of what they were missing, they might have congratulated
themselves on having an extremely good time. Miss Birks was kindness
itself, and allowed every indulgence possible. They were kept well
supplied with books, in cheap editions which could be burnt afterwards,
and had licence to pursue any hobby which admitted of disinfection. Dr.
Jones brought good reports of the Hargreaves children, who were now
convalescent. Ronnie had most fortunately not caught any germs, and was
away with Mrs. Trevellyan in Herefordshire. Of the seventeen girls who
had returned home, Irene Jordan only had developed a slight rash, so
that on the whole the school had escaped better than might have been
expected.
After the constant society of their class-mates, the three invalids felt
the Dower House to be very large and empty and lonely. It was
astonishing how different it seemed now the rooms were untenanted. The
whole place wore a changed aspect. In ordinary circumstances they hardly
ever gave a thought to the ancient associations of the house, but now
they constantly remembered that it had been occupied as a convent, and
that hundreds of years ago gentle grey-robed figures had flitted up and
down those identical stairs and paced those very same passages. It was
the code of the school to laugh at superstition, and none of the girls
would confess to a dislike to go upstairs alone, but it was remarkable
what excuses they found for keeping each other company.
Gerda was the worst off in this respect, for Deirdre and Dulcie, though
ready to accommodate each other, did not show her too much
consideration, and would often ruthlessly disregard her palpable hints.
They kept very much together, and though not openly rude, made her feel
most decidedly that she was _de trop_. She never complained, nor offered
the least reproach; her manner throughout was exactly the same as it had
been since her first arrival, gentle, reserved, and uncommunicative.
Sometimes the chums, out of sheer naughtiness, tried to pick a quarrel
with her, but she never lost her self-control, and either kept entire
silence, or replied so quietly to their gibes that they were rather
ashamed of themselves. To Miss Birks Gerda did not open her heart any
more than to her room-mates. She appeared grateful for kindness, but
the Principal's best efforts could not make her talk, and on the topic
of her home and her relations she was dumb. To any questions she would
return the most brief and unwilling answers, and seemed reluctant to
have the subject mentioned at all. After several vain attempts to win
her confidence, Miss Birks gave up trying, and allowed her to go on in
her usual self-contained silent fashion--a negative policy not wholly
satisfactory.
All three girls made excellent progress, and Dr. Jones very soon gave
permission first for a gentle walk round the garden at midday, then for
a longer time out-of-doors.
"We've been making invalids of them, though they're not invalids at
all," he said jokingly. "They're nothing but three humbugs! Look at
their rosy cheeks! And I hear reports of such excessive consumption of
chicken broth, and jelly, and other delicacies, I shall have to diet
them on porridge and potatoes. I think Miss Birks is too good to you,
young ladies. When I was at school I wasn't pampered like this, I assure
you, whatever infectious complaints I managed to catch. They used to
dose us with Turkey rhubarb, no matter what our ailment; it was a kind
of specific against all diseases, and nasty enough to frighten any
microbe away."
"May we go home next week?" pleaded Deirdre.
"Girls who catch German measles don't deserve to go home. But I know
Miss Birks wants to get rid of you, so I won't be too severe. Yes, I
think I may consider you cured, and give you your order of release for
next Wednesday."
That evening three very jubilant girls sat in the small schoolroom
scribbling their good news.
"This day week we shall be at home," rejoiced Deidre.
"Oh, goody! I am so glad! I can hardly write sense. I hope Mother'll
understand it. She's accustomed to my ragtime letters, though."
"Miss Birks is sending post cards about the trains," volunteered Gerda.
"A good thing, too, for I never remember to put the time. Shall I read
you what I've said, Deirdre?
"DARLING MUMMIE,
"I'm coming home--oh! isn't it spiffing? Do let us have trifle
and sausages for supper, and let Baba stop up for it. I've made
her a present, and it's not infectious, because Miss Birks has
had it stoved. And it will be ripping to see you all again. I'm
so glad I shan't miss Douglas. I hope Jinks is well, but don't
let them bring him to the station to meet me, in case he gets on
the line. Oh, high cockalorum for next week!
"Heaps and heaps of love from
"DULCIE."
"It's a good thing Miss Birks is sending a post card, you silly child,"
remarked Deirdre crushingly. "You've never told your mother which day
you're coming, to say nothing of mentioning a time."
"Oh, haven't I? No more I have. I'll put it in a P.S. I hope Mother
won't forget I said trifle and sausages. She always lets me choose my
own supper on the day I go home, and we have it all set out in the
breakfast-room. Generally we only get biscuits and milk before we go to
bed. I think they might let Baba sit up this time. She's nearly six. Oh,
bother! My stamps are upstairs. Do come with me, and I'll fetch them. I
simply hate going alone."
"You're as big a baby as Baba," returned Deirdre. "No, I can't and won't
and shan't go with you. You must pluck up your courage for once. Dear me
there's nothing to be afraid of, you scared mouse."
Thus duly squashed by her own chum, Dulcie made no further plea; she
only banged the door in reply, and they could hear her footsteps
stumping slowly and heavily upstairs. In a few moments, however, she
descended with a much swifter motion, and, looking pale and frightened,
burst into the schoolroom.
"There's somebody or something inside the barred room," she gasped.
"It--whatever it is--it's tapping on the door. I daren't go past."
Both Deirdre and Gerda rose to the rescue, and--three strong--the girls
ventured to investigate. With a few pardonable tremors they drew aside
the curtains that concealed the door of the mysterious room. There was
nothing to be seen or heard, however. The iron bars had not been
tampered with, and all was dead silence within.
"Your nerves are jumpy at present, and you'd imagine anything," decided
Deirdre.
"I didn't imagine it. I really heard it. I tell you I did. Oh, I say!
There it is again!"
Instinctively the girls clung together, for from inside the door
certainly came the sound of rapping, not very loud, but quite
unmistakable.
"Who's there?" quavered Deirdre valiantly. But there was no reply. "If
you want help, speak," she continued.
The three held their breath and listened. Dead silence--that was all,
nor was the rapping repeated.
"I've heard it before," whispered Gerda.
"When?"
"Several times. Once just after I came, and again in the middle of the
term, and about three weeks ago. It's always the same. A few taps, and
then it stops."
"Did any of the other girls hear it?"
"I didn't ask them."
"It's spooky to a degree. What can it be?"
"Oh, do you think there's anybody inside?" whimpered Dulcie.
"Why didn't he answer, if there was?"
"He might be deaf and dumb. Oh, perhaps that's the secret of the room.
Is some poor creature shut up there? Oh, it's too horrible!"
"Don't get hysterical!" said Deirdre. "Mrs. Trevellyan wouldn't go
shutting up deaf and dumb people! It is very mysterious, though."
"Shall we tell Miss Birks?" suggested Dulcie.
"No, certainly not. She's always fearfully down on us if we get up any
scares about the barred room. Don't you remember how cross she was with
Annie Pridwell and Betty Scott last term?"
"Do you ever hear any other noises?" asked Gerda.
"No, only what might reasonably be rats or mice."
"Has anyone any notion what's inside?"
"Not the very slightest. I don't believe even Miss Birks knows."
"Well, look here," said Dulcie. "I shall never dare to go down this
passage alone again. One of you will simply have to come with me."
"I don't think we'll very much care to go alone ourselves," returned
Deirdre.
"You called me a scared mouse!" Dulcie's tone was injured, as if the
epithet still rankled.
"Well, we're three scared mice, and it's a case of 'see how they run!'"
laughed Deirdre, getting back her self-possession. "We'll go up and down
in threesomes for the future."
"You promise? You'll never make me pass here by myself again?"
"Faithfully, on my honour! We'll act police, and protect you against a
dozen possible spooks. Do stop squeezing my arm, you've made it quite
sore!"
"I don't know how it is, Deirdre, you never take things seriously. I
can't see anything to laugh about myself. The whole thing's queer, and
uncanny, and mysterious, and I hate mysteries. Why can't Mrs. Trevellyan
have the bars taken down and let us look into the room?"
"Ah! Ask me a harder."
"'While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door,'"
quoted Gerda, who was learning "The Raven".
"You're both determined to make fun of it, and it isn't a laughing
matter," complained Dulcie. "I haven't got my stamps yet. Come along!"