CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE
But being converted to scouting could not at once cure Nora of her dream
habits. Being so long alone in school, and having a brain insatiable for
creative material, she usually went to bed to think and she went to
sleep to dream.
"I never felt so deliciously tired," she murmured. "But I do wonder what
ailed Vita."
Presently blue eyes cuddled in their white satin blankets with brown
fringe borders (a way Nora had of describing eye lids and lashes), and
then the panorama began.
First it was the Scout memory. She, as the bravest Scout that had ever
joined a troup, dramatically saved someone from drowning. Next, Nora as
the actress in the picture shown at Lenox, performed the daring feat of
swinging from the great rock with strikingly better effect than had she
whose name graced the program. The third dream installment had to do
with something very indistinct but horribly terrifying. It revealed a
crawling thing that first crossed the path, then climbed the morning
glory vine right up to Nora's window, and now--yes now--it was choking
her!
Had she screamed?
She found herself sitting up straight in bed and she felt as if her very
curls had straightened out in fright.
There--was a noise! She listened, put her hand out and switched on the
light. It was nothing in her room, but seemed somewhere--Yes, there it
was again and it surely was up in the attic!
Was that someone moaning?
Dream dizzy still, Nora could form no definite resolve, either to call
or to remain quiet. She simply lay fascinated with fright. The noise
ceased. Still she lay--listening. Then other sounds penetrated the
night. That was feet--shuffling of feet and they seemed just above her
head! Quickly Nora reached out again and touched the button that
switched off the light. She would rather lay hidden deeply in the bed
clothing than be exposed to whatever was prowling in the attic, should
it come down the stairs.
Then she thought she heard whispering, but that might have been her
excited imagination. She drew the covers closer and with her head buried
from sound she could no longer listen, and not possibly hear.
But after, what seemed to the frightened girl, a very long time she
ventured to poke her head out again, just as she heard a stealthful step
on the stairs.
"Oh!" she gasped aloud. Then "Vita!" she called faintly.
"Yes, I come. Sh-s-!"
Nora had not expected to hear that voice. She merely called Vita because
she did not want to call Cousin Ted, and she felt the intruder was
dangerously near. But there was Vita!
"What is it? You have bad dream?" asked the maid in a whisper, standing
now beside the bed.
"No, it was no dream." Nora's voice was not very low, in fact she was
angry. "I did hear things and there's no use telling me it was the wind.
It wasn't," she snapped.
"Sh-s-!" again Vita warned. "It is no good to wake cousins. I was up the
stairs for that old window. It slam--you hear it?"
"What could slam a window tonight?"
"I do-no!" in the way foreigners have of not understanding when
ignorance is more convenient. "I must go to bed now. You all right?"
"Say Vita!" charged Nora. "If you don't tell me the truth
I'll--I'll--just shout!"
"No, not too much noise," coaxed the big woman, who in her night robe
looked like a masquerade figure. "What do you want I should get you?"
"Nothing. I don't want anything but for you to tell me who is up in that
attic!" demanded Nora sharply.
"Me--Vittoria, is up attic."
"Who was with you?"
"Cap."
"Where is he now?"
"He go down--back way."
"Now Vita--" Nora stopped. She was baffled. This woman could confuse her
so and then walk off demurely, just as she had done that other night.
Finally Nora began again:
"All right, Vita, but you just listen." She was shaking a small finger
toward the face with the black flashing eyes. "If you don't tell me all
about your secret I shall tell Uncle Jerry. Now do you understand?"
"Secret? What is 'secret'?"
"The thing up in the attic is a secret," persisted Nora, although she
feared her voice might disturb the others now.
"That thing big Cap. He always at night sniff so much," said Vita. "Now,
I go to bed," she spoke this very emphatically. "I go to bed and you go
to sleep."
"All right, go," ordered Nora. "And don't you dare go up in that attic
again tonight. I was just having the most----"
But her audience had vanished and the house was empty, so to speak, so
why orate or harangue?
All sleep and its delightful attributes had flown. Nora was so wide
awake she felt she would never sleep again, and worse still, she was
angry. What did that old Vita mean by her attic tricks? If it were she
who was up there why did she moan? And if it were something else why did
the woman try to conceal it?
"Now, I have a Scout duty," Nora promised herself. "I must fathom that
mystery and protect Cousin Theodora and Cousin Gerald from that
unscrupulous woman." Visions of crimes hidden in the attic, memory of
her own incarceration there when the trap door, as she now regarded the
door with the spring lock snapped shut, filtered through her excited
brain, and when she remembered how she had almost died up there, and how
it might have been years before her skeleton would have been discovered,
just as so many others had fared on secret attic trips, it did seem to
Nora that she should arise at once and immediately start her
investigations. Humor and tragedy hopelessly mixed.
"But it's so late," she figured out, "and would it be fair to wake
Cousin Ted when she is so tired and after her taking me to that
beautiful picture?"
Convincing herself that this was why she did not immediately begin her
brave Scout work, she once more attempted to quiet her nerves by
thinking of all the sheep Miss Baily had recommended to skip over fences
and lull one to sleep.
But sleep was far out of the reach of frisky sheep, and Nora lay there
thinking of so many things, her head threatened to ache and a miserable
day promised to dawn upon her if she did not soon succumb.
"Perhaps I wronged poor Vita. There may not have been anything wicked in
the attic after all," she soothed herself. "Why couldn't she go up there
if she wanted to? And maybe she stubbed her toe."
It was not very consoling but the best Nora could work up in the way of
consolation. One thing certain, Vita was honorable. She was a trusted
servant, and in the short time Nora had been at the Nest, many small
favors, peculiar to good cooks, had come Nora's way through Vita's
intervention.
Such happy thoughts finally dispelled the other unfriendly mental
visitors, and when Vita stole past the door again and looked in through
the darkness, all she heard was the even breathing of little Nora Blair,
who might or might not have been dreaming of horrible attic noises.
The day brings wisdom, and when Nora again dressed in the borrowed khaki
suit (she had suddenly taken a dislike to her own fancy dresses), the
glorious sunshine of the bright summer morning mocked the terrors of the
night.
A step in the hall. "I bring your fruit," said Vita kindly through the
open door; and there she stood with a small dish of such delicious
berries to be eaten off stems by hand--surely Nora had wronged this
kind, tender-hearted foreigner.
Nora was somewhat conscience stricken as she accepted the peace
offering. "Oh, thank you, Vita," she exclaimed. "I was just coming
down."
"But the Jerries are out early and you no need hurry," explained Vita.
"I make nice breakfast when you come."
"Cousin Ted gone out?" asked Nora.
"Yes, she say you stay home, not go after them, they must 'bob swamp.'"
"Bob swamp? Oh, you mean use the plumb-bob in the swamp. I understand,
Vita." It was really remarkable how well both understood today and how
dense both had been last night. "Very well, I'll eat my fruit here by
the window, and later try your lovely biscuits," said Nora, with a smile
rarely used outside the family.
The housemaid shuffled off. Looking after her, Nora wondered.
"I do believe she is trying to keep on good terms with me for
something--something queer," she decided. "Certainly she is afraid I
will tell Cousin Ted about the attic business." She paused with a big
red strawberry half way to her lips. "Well, I have a secret, anyhow,"
she decided, "and I like Alma, she makes me think of myself--she is sort
of shy and sensitive. Perhaps I shall make her my confidante."
Of all the Scouts Alma seemed most congenial, and having a real secret
was the first definite step in Nora's summer career. But are secrets
wise and are they safe to carry around in so big and open a place as
Rocky Ledge?