The three days before Major Vaughan's return promised to pass on
leaden wings, but in reality they flew merrily enough. Not only was
there a general furbishing-up of the camp to be seen to, for "Dad,"
as the boys said, "was sure to be as jolly keen on it as they were,"
but a new and unexpected occupation suddenly presented itself to the
company.
Hitherto Dick had been considered in the light of an un-get-at-able
invalid, who could be written to, and to whom messages might be sent
through Mrs. Vaughan, but who was, otherwise, as inaccessible as
though he had been still at his home in the far north. Now, however,
with the removal of the convalescent to the "river-room" in the east
wing, things changed. From breakfast till bedtime the now recovering
invalid stood glued to his bedroom window watching with interested
eyes practically everything that the campers were doing. The Cottage
was in full view of his window, so was the camp fire. "It seems
strange, doesn't it?" said Peter, "that there's Dick looking on, and
here are we, feeling awfully chummy with him, and all that, but we've
never spoken to him in our lives!"
"Good idea!" shouted Donald; into the hut he raced, appearing
presently with a flag with which he began signalling to his brother.
The latter seemed to twig the idea instantly; he disappeared from the
window, and appeared again, bearing what was certainly nothing more
or less than a bath-towel; vigorous flag-wagging ensued between the
brothers for a few minutes, while the Vaughans looked interestedly on.
"I say," said Robin, "you can do Morse like lightning. I could
hardly follow half of it. No wonder you've got your Signalling
Badges! What were you saying?"
"I asked him how he found himself this morning, and he says that he
feels topping, and never better, and wishes the peeling were over,
and would give a jolly lot to be camping with the rest of us,"
explained Donald.
"Let me have a try," begged Peter; but his skill in signalling was
slight; and Robin, who tried next, had had little experience. Donald
tried again. "I say, he says," he interpreted after a vigorous few
minutes, "that you two need practice, and he says why don't you let
him practice with you while he's shut up there with nothing to do.
You'd probably soon pass your tests if you did. Minimum is 24
letters per minute for Morse, you know, and 36 for Semaphore. He
knows both, and he'd coach you from his side, and I'd coach you here."
"Rather!" the three Vaughans were unanimous. "There's a Signaller's
Badge for Guides, too!" said Jan. "I say, what fun!"
By the time that dusk fell on the evening of the first day, hiding
the east wing signaller from his pupils, the latter had certainly
gained ground after a hard day's work. Next morning, before
breakfast, Peter, after flying out with his flag to bid Dick
good-morning, returned to the rest of his camping companions with
rather a queer look on his face. "Come on, Donald," he said, "you're
wanted. I can't exactly twig what Dick's saying, he's so jolly quick
about it. But it's something about 'noises,' I'm pretty sure; and I
_think_ he says that he's heard queer noises in the night!"
"He does," announced Donald, after conversing with his brother.
"It's strange isn't it? but he says he's been kept awake by them. He
says that he wants to know if the east wing supposed to be haunted!"
"Ask what kind of a noise?" suggested Jan.
"He says 'thumps and bangs,'" reported Donald.
"WELL!!!!" chorused the others in amazement.
"My light on the first night," added Jan suddenly; "it shone from
there. _Now_, who says that it wasn't mysterious?"
There was little chance of signalling practice for the rest of that
day, for rain came down in buckets as soon as breakfast was over and
the mist quite blotted out the Chase from the Islanders. Night must
be spent at Island Cottage, there was no doubt about that. "And I do
hope it'll be fine to-morrow," said Peter, as the three boys
undressed that night in the big attic upstairs. "Dad's to get here
early in the morning, and it would be such a----"
Tap! tap! came at their door, and Jan's face appeared; her eyes were
bright and her teeth were chattering. "Oh, I'm so glad that you're
sleeping here to-night," she said, "because--"
"What's up?" inquired the boys.
"It's--my room; the noise again; only it's louder: thumps this time,
and loud bangs, and--near. On the wall, I think, or behind the wall,
and from near to the floor. Some one's knocking, I'm certain, and I
think I heard a voice!"
It didn't take an instant for the boys to slip on their coats. In
another they were on the stairs on their way to Jan's room. There
was silence for a minute or two after they entered; then the rapping
began again. From the wall near the fireplace it seemed to come.
Then there was the sound of a voice, "Let me out;" the words were
faint, but perfectly plain.
"Yes, we will. Don't lose heart," Robin's tones sounded clear in the
little room. He dropped on his knees beside the wall: "Tell us what
to do, and we can help you."
There was a pause, and then the voice very faintly came again: "Make
haste, or--pull out the mantel-shelf; that's the way. Keep it
straight as you pull, and--pull hard; I will push from here, but I
have not much strength left!" Then followed a moment of tense
suspense, while the boys followed the directions; then came a
grinding noise, and a long creaking movement of the front of the
fireplace; then came a cry from Jan.