There was no sleep for the inhabitants of The Deanery during the
remainder of that exciting night. The sudden banging of the strong-room
door, with the babel which immediately followed from within, would in
themselves have been enough to alarm the household; but Mildred was
determined to leave nothing to chance.
She arrived at James's room just in time to meet that faithful servant
hurrying forth with a greatcoat fastened over his night attire, and
while he rushed across the garden to arouse the coachman, she turned
back into the hall, and began to beat a wild tattoo upon the gong.
When Bertha came rushing downstairs a moment later, followed by a flock
of terrified women-servants, she was horrified by the sight which she
beheld. There stood Mildred in her white dressing-gown, her hair hung
round her face in wild confusion, her eyes gleamed, her long arms swung
the sticks through the air, and brought them down upon the gong with a
fierceness of triumph, which had in it something uncanny to the gentle
onlooker. She looked strangely unlike Mildred Moore--pretty, merry
Mildred, so ready to tease and plague, to kiss and make friends, and
tease again all in a moment. She was so carried away by the terrible
excitement of the moment that she had no eyes for what was going on
around, and seemed perfectly oblivious of the fact that her friends were
standing by her side.
It flashed through Bertha's mind that Mildred was going mad, and she
seized hold of the swinging arms in an agony of appeal.
"Mildred, Mildred--don't! Oh, what are you doing? We are all here; I
am here--Bertha! What has happened? what is the matter? Don't stare
like that, you frighten me! You understand what I am saying, don't you,
Mildred, dear?"
"I--I--I," began Mildred blankly. She turned her head and looked at the
strong-room door, before which James stood on guard, waiting the return
of the coachman with the policemen; then at the group of women-servants
huddled on the stairs; last of all in her friend's face, white and
anxious, and overflowing with sympathy. "You understand me, don't you,
Mil?" Bertha repeated gently, and at that Mildred's tense attitude
relaxed. She put her hand to her head as one awakening from a dream,
and clutching Bertha by the arms, burst into a flood of tears.
"Take me away!" she sobbed; "take me away!" and Bertha led her forward
into the breakfast-room, followed by a murmur of sympathy from the
onlookers.
James had found time to give a brief account of what had taken place to
his fellow-servants, and they were filled with wonder and admiration.
"To come down all by herself, in the dead of night--that child! She is
brave and no mistake! I always liked her--she has such pretty ways of
her own,--but I never thought she would come out like this. She seemed
so careless-like! Poor child, to see her beating that gong! She didn't
know what she was doing. It's enough to upset anyone. To fasten that
heavy door herself!"
Then the conversation took another turn, and busied itself in denouncing
Cecile and her villainies.
"The deceitful, wicked creature! That's the end of her smooth tongue
and her deceitful ways! Making excuses to poke about all the rooms in
turn, and pretending to help when it was nothing else than curiosity and
wicked scheming! I saw her with a letter of the master's in her hand
one evening, and she said she had been sent to find it. So likely, when
he had half a dozen servants of his own in the house! Now she will have
a spell in prison for a change--not the first one either, or I'm
mistaken. To think, if it hadn't been for Miss Mildred, she would have
been off with the pick of the valuables in the house!"
So on and so on, while within the breakfast-room the heroine of the
occasion was being soothed and petted to her heart's content, Miss
Turner and the two girls hanging round her, and vieing with each other
as to who could do most for her comfort. In spite of her agitation,
however, it was Mildred who was the first to think of the old lady
upstairs, and her quick "Who is with Lady Sarah?" made the governess
start in compunction.
"Oh, my dear, I am so glad you reminded me! I am ashamed to say I
forgot all about her. One is so accustomed to depend upon Cecile."
She hurried away, sending the motherly old cook to take her place beside
the girls, while the cook in her turn despatched the kitchen-maid to
provide refreshment for the household. So it came to pass that at three
o'clock in the morning several tea-parties were being held in The
Deanery, the guests thereat presenting a motley appearance in their
anomalous garments.
When the policemen arrived, Bertha and Mildred refused to go out into
the hall to see the capture of the thieves; but Lois could not restrain
her curiosity, and came back with a thrilling account of the two big,
wicked-looking men who were Cecile's accomplices, and of Cecile herself,
looking "so white, so terrified, so,--so _old_, that I was obliged to be
sorry for her, though I tried to be angry! I expect she wishes now that
she had gone to bed, and slept quietly, like a good Christian!"
concluded Lois quaintly; and at that Mistress Cook lifted up her voice,
and remarked that it would be a good thing if they were all to set about
doing that without delay.
"It is nearly four o'clock," she said, "and to-morrow's work has to be
done, thieves or no thieves. The mistress will get a telegram the
moment the office is opened, and she will be home by the first train, or
I'm mistaken. You young ladies had better get off to bed at once, or
she will be more upset than ever if she finds you looking like ghosts!"
Miss Turner returned to the room at this moment, and warmly seconded the
motion. She had left Mary, the pleasant-faced housemaid, in charge of
Lady Sarah, who was nervous and unstrung after her fright, and she
herself proposed to share Mildred's bed for the remainder of the night,
the twins being left to keep each other company.
Mildred was thankful to accept the offer, for the strain upon her nerves
had left her so weak that her legs trembled beneath her as she ascended
the staircase. Even with Miss Turner lying beside her, sleep refused to
come until the sun was high in the heavens, and the noises of the day
rose from the garden beneath. Then at last, in the blissful sense of
security brought about by light and sunshine, the tired lids closed, and
she fell into a deep, restful slumber.
Miss Turner rose and crept softly from the room; Bertha and Lois peeped
in at intervals of half an hour; Mary prepared two tempting
breakfast-trays, one after the other, and carried them down untouched,
for Mildred slept like the seven sleepers, and no one had the heart to
shorten the well-earned rest.
Shortly before one o'clock a cab drove up to the door, and the Dean and
Mrs Faucit hurried into the house. They looked anxious and perturbed,
and had a great many questions to ask--not about the silver, however,--
that seemed quite a secondary consideration,--but about the welfare of
Mildred, Lady Sarah, and the children, and as to what had been done with
that poor, unhappy Cecile. Miss Turner assured them in reply that the
children were as happy and as naughty as ever; that Lady Sarah was
rather nervous, but otherwise none the worse for her adventure, and that
Mildred had been sound asleep since seven o'clock in the morning.
"I must go up and see her at once--the dear child! the dear, brave
child!" cried Mrs Faucit warmly; and she hurried upstairs, the Dean
following, shaking his head in meaning manner, and treading on tiptoe as
he entered the room, and advanced to the bedside.
Mildred lay fast asleep, her hair falling over the pillow in shining
golden tangles; while one arm was thrown over the counterpane, the other
tucked under her head, so that her cheek rested in the hollow of her
palm.
There were dark shadows beneath her eyes; and she looked so white and
spent, so unlike her usual radiant self, that Mrs Faucit's eyes
overflowed with tears, and she bent involuntarily to press a kiss upon
her lips.
The scream with which Mildred started up in bed made the two hearers
fairly leap back in amazement. The sudden awakening was too much for
the disordered nerves, and the soft touch had brought with it a hundred
nightmare dreads. When she saw who was standing beside her, she calmed
down in a moment, and apologised in shamefaced manner.
"Oh, Mrs Faucit, I am so sorry I startled you! I had just shut my
eyes, and I thought it was--something dreadful--I don't know what
exactly! How did you get back? What time is it? Is breakfast ready?
Oh, I am so glad you are here! It is all right! I shut the door--they
can't get out!--"
"Yes, dear, yes--I know! Don't think about it. We will have a long
talk to-night when you are rested, but try to go to sleep again now. I
am so vexed with myself for disturbing you!"
"I can't sleep. I've tried, but it's no good. I've been awake all
night!" sighed Mildred pitifully. She believed that she was speaking
the truth, but in reality she was so sleepy at the present moment that
she hardly knew what she was saying. She raised pathetic eyes to the
Dean's face, and inquired, with a yawn: "Wh-at did the Archbishop say
about Cecile?"
"Bless me!" cried the Dean in alarm. "This is terrible--the child is
wandering! She doesn't know what she is saying!" He laid his hand on
Mildred's forehead, and backed out of the room, beckoning furtively to
his wife as he went. Outside in the passage he ruffled his hair in
helpless misery.
"Her head is burning, Evelyn! the child is in a fever! Something must
be done at once. I don't like to see her suffering. Er--er--what could
you give her, dear? Aconite and belladonna? What do you say to aconite
and belladonna--every half-hour?"
He looked so comical with his ruffled hair and distended eyes, that his
wife could not restrain a smile.
"Oh, she will be all right, dear, after a day's rest!" she said
reassuringly. "I will keep her in bed, and not allow her to talk too
much. You need not be anxious; Mildred is too healthy to be upset for
more than a few hours!"
"But I should try the belladonna! I should certainly try the
belladonna!" said the Dean urgently. He shuffled along the passage, but
before his wife had time to re-enter the room he was back again, his
face alight with inspiration.
"Evelyn, I was thinking! A gold watch and chain--the same as we gave
the girls at Christmas.--How would that do, eh? We might present them
to her as a small--er,--acknowledgment of--er,--gratitude! What do you
think of that? Does it strike you as a good idea?"
"Capital, Austin! Much better than the belladonna!" cried Mrs Faucit.
She patted him approvingly upon the shoulder, and the Dean went off to
his study rubbing his hands, and chuckling to himself, like a kindly,
innocent child, which indeed he was, despite all the learning which had
made him famous.