THE EGG OF COLUMBUS
"Why, yes!" said Mr. Montfort. "It is my egg, certainly."
"Oh, Uncle John!"
"Well, sir, then--"
"Then you know all the--"
"Was it--"
"Did you--"
"Tell am what--"
Mr. Montfort put his hands resolutely over his ears, and shut his eyes.
"When you are still," he said, "I will tell you all about it; till then
I am a blind deaf-mute, with no benefit of modern instruction."
A swift rustle, followed by dead silence. Cautiously opening his eyes,
Mr. Montfort saw the whole company seated on the floor around his chair,
gazing at him with imploring eyes, but motionless and mute. He laughed
heartily, and threw himself back in his chair.
"I promised you a merry game," he said. "Have you had it?"
The young people nodded like mandarins, but uttered no sound.
"I promised you nothing more. In fact, I warned you not to expect
anything more. On your own heads be egg and emptiness.
"Well, well!" he added, "since you are so good and dutiful, you shall
have the whole truth. I found the box some forty years ago, when I first
stumbled on that closet. My dear mother was timid, and had a great dread
of the Mysteries of Fernley, imagining a secret staircase in every wall,
and an oubliette under every floor. Somebody had frightened her when she
came here as a child, by showing her I forget what dark passage or
closet. So we were never officially told of the various pleasant places
devised by the eccentric old ancestor, Peter, who, I have always
believed, was a smuggler before he was a patriot, and hid kegs as well
as commanders in his smoke-closet. You know the story of General
Blankley and the hams, Hugh? Remind me to tell you some day. Well, this
being so, of course we youngsters were keen set on discovery; and we
formed a league, called the Hovering Hawks. Each of us had his private
totem or sign; and when he made a discovery, he left a totem to tell
that he had been there. Jim's was an oyster-shell, because he considered
the world his oyster; Dick's was a ship, because he always meant to be a
sailor; Roger's was a book, of course, for obvious reasons; and mine was
an egg, Columbus's egg, because I meant to find things out. You see
there was no overstock of modesty among us, more than there is among
most healthy boys. We were ready for anything and everything. I dare say
some of you may have found oyster-shells about, in various inaccessible
places?"
Grace started, and blushed; then hung her head. "I--I found one," she
admitted. "It was in a cubbyhole in the parapet of the roof. I thought
of bringing it away, but it seemed as if some one had wanted to leave it
there, so I didn't touch it."
"Jim's Retreat," said Mr. Montfort. "He stayed up there two days once,
in a fit of sulks, and frightened my poor dear mother almost into an
illness. Father Montfort was away from home the first day; the second
day he came home, and went up after Master James. He was a powerful man,
Father Montfort, and an excellent climber. Yes, poor old Jim! he did not
climb again for several days. Well, as I was saying, after all this very
egotistical digression, I found the box in question some forty years
ago. I withdrew the--a--contents--and substituted for them my totem. The
contents I put--elsewhere."
He looked round the circle, smiling. Margaret, gazing earnestly at him,
saw his face, for the second time since she had known him, change from
that of a grave, thoughtful man into that of a mischievous boy, the
eager eyes alight with fun, the lips twitching with laughter.
"Wouldn't--you--like--to--know?" he began slowly, his eyes turning from
one to the other. Suddenly he broke off.
"There! the play is over, children. Margaret, you found the casket, you
shall find the--run your hand along the back of my chair here, my dear;
where it feels cold, press downward."
Margaret obeyed. A long narrow box or drawer shot out from the rolling
back of the great mahogany chair. Obeying Mr. Montfort's gesture,
Margaret lifted out of the nest of silky cotton something that sparkled
and glittered in the firelight. There was a long-drawn sigh from the
girls, a grunt of surprise from the men, but still no one spoke.
"The pearls are for you, Margaret. I always meant them for you, my dear.
I have taken them out every birthday and Christmas and looked at them,
but there was always something else I wanted to give you just then, so I
put the pretty playthings back again. Peggy, these pink topazes were
made expressly for you, even if they have been waiting some time. No
earrings, thank heaven! I could not see my girls in earrings. The
diamonds I sent to Rita as a wedding present; you remember them,
Margaret. Deceitful, was I, not to tell you their history? My child, I
said they were family jewels, and so they were. The turquoises must be
Jean's; put them on at once, little girl! Very pretty; very becoming.
Now,--any more? It seems to me I remember one more article--ah!"
Margaret drew out a long, delicate, glittering chain. At sight of it,
Grace uttered a low cry of delight. "What is it?" she said. "I never saw
anything so beautiful. Water and moonlight? What are the stones, Mr.
Montfort, please?"
"Aquamarine," said Mr. Montfort. "They are beautiful, though not of
great value. Now what shall I do with this last trinket, I wonder?"
"There is only one person who can possibly wear it," said Hugh, under
his breath. His uncle heard him, and shot a keen, quizzical glance at
him, which caused the philosopher to retire suddenly behind the shadow
of the curtain. Margaret glided to her uncle's side, and whispered in
his ear. Mr. Montfort nodded, smiling. "Just what I was thinking,
Margaret," he said. "You read my thoughts accurately. My dear Miss
Grace--by the way, isn't it time for me to leave off the 'Miss,'
considering my age, and how well we know each other? 'Miss Grace'
suggests 'disgrace,' which can have no possible connection with you. My
dear Grace, then, as Margaret and others have said, there is only one
person present who ought to wear this chain, and that person is
yourself. Will you accept it as a little gift from Margaret and me, and
from Cousin Christina?"
Grace drew back, her eyebrows coming together in a look Peggy knew well.
"I--You must excuse me," she began; but Mr. Montfort, going to her, took
her hand kindly: "My child, do not refuse me this little pleasure. You
surely do not expect me to wear the chain myself? and Margaret has more
trumpery than is good for her already. Besides, as I said, the thing was
manifestly made for you, and for you alone. And, besides, again,
Grace,"--he drew her nearer, and spoke low,--"besides, again, you are an
explorer, too; if you had lived twenty-five years ago, we should have
had great excursions together. Take it, my dear, if for no other reason,
because it is the gift of the boy who put the egg in the box!"