THE PRIEST'S CHAMBER.
I was very glad that Polly had left school and come home for good. It
was far more cheerful and pleasant than it had been at all since I left
school. Polly made the place so cheerful with her bright happy smile,
and was so full of life and fun, that I never found time to sit and
muse, and wonder and fret over the future, as I had done before she came
home. She never left me long alone for any time, but every day would
make me go out for long walks with her, and indeed devoted herself
entirely to cheering and amusing me. Papa too very much recovered his
spirits under her genial influence; and altogether she made our home
much brighter and more cheerful than before.
So our life went on for nearly three months, and then one Friday evening
I was told that Sarah was below waiting to speak to me. I was rather
surprised, for she had been to the house very seldom before, and then
always on Sunday evenings.
However, the moment she came in, I saw that she had something very
important to tell. Her bright face was quite pale with excitement, and
her whole figure was in a nervous tremble.
"Oh, miss," she burst out directly the door was closed behind her, "Oh,
miss, I have found the secret door!"
Although I had tried all along to hope that she would some day do so,
that hope had been so long deferred that it had almost died away; and
now at the sudden news, I felt all the blood rush to my heart, the room
swam round with me, and I sat on a chair quite overwhelmed by the sudden
shock.
"Shall I get you some water, miss?"
"No, no, Sarah, I shall be myself in a minute or two."
I had to sit quiet a little time, before I could steady myself
sufficiently to listen to the account of the wonderful discovery, which
was to lead to fortune and happiness. Then I said,--
"I am not very strong, Sarah, and the surprise has been almost too much
for me, for I own I hardly expected that you ever would find it. Now
tell me all about it, or stay, let me ask papa and my sister to come in
to share in this wonderful news of yours." So saying, I ran down to the
study where papa was busy writing.
"Papa," I said, "I want you to come up stairs directly."
"What for my dear? I am really very busy at present."
"Never mind, papa; but put by your writing at once and come up. Sarah is
here, and oh, papa, she has found the secret door."
"That is news, indeed!" papa said, pushing back his chair at once; "I am
sure I never expected it."
So saying, he followed me upstairs. I called Polly as we went up, and
she came running up after us, and as she went into the drawing-room with
me, I whispered to her that the secret door was found. She gave me a
little squeeze of congratulation, and I saw that even in that first
flush of pleasure at the news, it was only the consequences to me that
she thought of, and that her own personal interest in the matter never
entered into her mind.
"Well, Sarah," papa began, "so I hear you have discovered the secret
entrance at last."
"Yes sir, I have. From the time I found the first spring at Christmas, I
have never ceased looking for another one. I had felt every knob on the
fireplace and chimneypiece, and every stone up the chimney as far as I
could reach. You know, sir, it is only in the half hour I get of a
morning by being up before the other servants that I can try; indeed I
only have half that time, for I must get some of the shutters open and
appear to have began to do something to account for my time. Well, sir,
at last I really seemed to have tried everywhere, and I almost gave up
all hope of finding it, although I had quite made up my mind to go on
searching as long as I stayed there, even if it was for ten years. Well,
sir, yesterday morning I quite got out of temper with the thing, and I
sat down on the ground in the great fireplace quite out of heart; my
face was quite close to the great iron dogs, so I said, "Drat you, you
look for all the world as if you were putting out your long tongues at
me;" and I took hold of the tongue nearest to me, and gave it a twist,
and do you know, sir, it quite gave me a turn to find that the tongue
twisted round in my hand. I twisted and twisted till the tongue came out
in my hand, then I touched the spring behind the mantel, but nothing
moved; then I tried the tongue of the other dog, and that came out too;
but still nothing moved. Just then I heard the cook moving in the
kitchen, so I had to put the tongues back again and go to my work; but
all day I hardly knew whether I stood on my head or my heels, I wanted
so much to see whether anything would come of it. Well, miss, this
morning I got up quite early, and unscrewed the dogs' tongues, and
looked in the places they had come out of, but could not see anything.
Then I pushed the sharp end of the tongue into the hole, and twisted and
poked about, but I could not find anything moved; then I put that tongue
in again, and tried the other, and directly I pushed the sharp end in, I
felt something give way, and then I heard a click. I jumped up and
pushed the knob in the chimney, and directly something creaked, and the
whole of the left hand side of the fireplace swung open like a low door,
about four feet high, and beyond it was a little flight of stone stairs.
I was so excited, sir, when I saw the door and the steps, and knew I had
found the place I had been looking for so long, that I had to lean
against the wall to support myself. After a little while I pushed the
door back again, and heard it close with a click. Then I screwed the
tongue into the mouth again, and went about my work, but all day I have
hardly known whether I stood upon my head or my heels."
We were all silent when Sarah finished. So far, then, we had succeeded
in our search. What was to be done next? We turned to papa.
"You have indeed done well, Sarah, and have laid us under a deep
obligation to you for the perseverance you have shown, and the clearness
with which you have carried out my daughter's plans. But this we will
talk about hereafter. The thing to be done now is to follow up your
discovery. The most important point is to find out the size of the box
or safe in which the will is kept in this secret room. If it is small
enough to be carried away easily, our course will be very simple. If, on
the other hand, the chest or safe should be too heavy to be moved, I
shall first take a lawyer's opinion on the subject, and either get a
search warrant, or else go quietly into the chamber with a locksmith,
force the lock, and take out the will, which, when found, will be ample
justification for our forcible entrance. The first thing to be done is
for Sarah to examine the room, and to bring us word how large the box
is."
"Do you mean, sir," Sarah asked, in a terrified tone, "for me to go up
that staircase by myself? I could not do such a thing for the world. I
could not, indeed, sir."
"We will reward you handsomely, Sarah," papa began.
"Don't ask me, Dr. Ashleigh. I could not do it if it were to make me a
rich woman all my life. Please, sir, don't ask me."
The girl was so evidently terrified at the idea of going up the secret
staircase, and she had already done so much for us, that we felt it
would not be right to urge her further, and we looked at each other for
a moment or two in silence. Then Polly said,--
"The proper persons to go are certainly Agnes and I. It is our property
for which the search is made, and it is our place to make it. I think
that the best plan will be for Sarah to get up some morning an hour
earlier than usual. We will be waiting outside for her to open the
doors; papa will be with us, and will stay there while we go inside,
examine the room, and bring out the box in which the will is kept, if it
is not too heavy for us to carry. What do you say, Agnes?"
I confess I was frightened at the idea, not of going up into the
priest's chamber, but of entering the house in that sort of secret
midnight way, and at the thought of the scene which would ensue if we
were detected. However, Polly seemed so brave and confident about it,
that I was ashamed to offer any opposition, and so said that I thought
it would be a very good plan.
"I think so, too," papa said. "It certainly seems a strange expedition
for us to make at five o'clock on a March morning; still, with such a
fortune depending upon it, one does not mind doing strange things to
obtain it. But before we do it, write to Sophy; tell her what has
happened, and what you intend doing, and ask her to send you by return
of post an authority from her to search in her name as well as your own
for the will. It would be as well, in case of any misadventure, that we
should be able to prove that we are acting in the joint interest of the
heirs. Let me see; to-day is Friday. She cannot get the letter now till
Monday, and you will have her answer on Tuesday. So let us say
Wednesday, Sarah. What time is the house stirring?"
"At seven, sir, the servants get up."
"Very well; will you be at the front door as the clock strikes six? We
shall be there. If not, some change will have taken place in our plans.
And now, Sarah, whether we succeed in our aim or not, we are equally
indebted to you. Here are twenty pounds for you, for what you have done
for us; and if we get the will, you may rely upon it that you shall have
a present which will make you comfortable for life."
Sarah retired delighted with her present, and promising to be ready on
Wednesday. We then had a long chat over our plans. Papa, who had, I
think, a strange tinge of romance in his disposition, quite looked
forward to the adventure, and he and Polly talked it over with great
glee. Papa said that he should write to Mr. Petersfield, tell him that
we had found the chamber, and ask him to come down and be present at the
finding of the will, so that he could--should the box be too large for
us to carry--give us his advice as to the best course for us to pursue.
On Tuesday morning we received the answers to the two letters;--that
from Sophy written in high spirits at our discovery, and authorizing us
to act in her name; that from Mr. Petersfield, also written in terms of
warm congratulation, and saying that, although the legality of our
course was at least doubtful, he had felt so warm an interest in our
search, that he would come down to be present at the _denouement_, and
he felt quite sure that the will, when found, would amply justify our
proceedings. He said that he should leave town by the afternoon train.
And so nothing whatever seemed likely to occur to postpone our
expedition, as I could not help hoping in my heart that something would
do.
Mr. Petersfield came down in the evening, and was full of spirits at the
prospect of recovering the will, and made several jokes about female
burglars, which amused Polly very much, but made me feel shivery and
uncomfortable.
At night, after we had gone up to bed, Polly came into my room, and
said,--
"Agnes, darling, I can see you are nervous and frightened about this
expedition of ours. You are not strong, you know, and I think that
really you had better stay at home. I can just as well go by myself; it
is only to see if it is there, and when I find it, if the box should be
too heavy for me to carry, Sarah will not mind going up with me the
second time to help me to bring it down."
"No, no, Polly," I answered; "I know I am a coward, but I am not so bad
as that. I will most certainly go with you; nothing would induce me to
stay at home and let you go alone. Still, I cannot look at it in the
same amusing way that you do. It is to me a very awful business; but you
will see that when it comes to the point I shall be able to go through
it all calmly. And now, good-night, dear. I will call you at half-past
five."
That night I did not close my eyes. I thought over every possible
accident by which we might be detected, and at last made myself so
nervous that I could remain in bed no longer; so I got up, lighted a
candle, dressed, and then wrapped myself in a warm shawl, and read till
it was time to call the others. Then I went and woke Polly, who was
sleeping as quietly and peacefully as if she were a girl again at
Grendon House, with nothing on her mind but the extreme difficulty of
her German lesson. She woke up with a cheerful laugh as she remembered
what was to be done. I afterwards knocked at papa's and Mr.
Petersfield's doors, and then lighted a large spirit-lamp under a
kettle, which papa had to make coffee when he went out or returned from
any night visit.
At five o'clock we all met in the dining-room--looking, as papa said,
like a lot of conspirators; and I quite agreed with him. However, by the
time we had taken a cup of coffee and some bread and butter and a slice
of cold ham, our spirits quite rose again, and we all responded gaily to
Polly's funny remarks; even I felt more confident and less nervous than
I had done since the expedition had been proposed.
It was just a quarter past five when we started, and still quite dark.
The stars were shining brightly, and the keen March wind made us shiver
and draw our wraps more closely round us as we went out into it. The
carriage was waiting at the door for us, and old Andrew, to whom we had
confided somewhat of our intended attempt, was stamping up and down, and
swinging his arms in the attempt to warm himself. Papa had at first
intended to walk, but he afterwards came to the conclusion that the
carriage passing through the streets at that hour would excite no
attention at all, whereas if we were seen walking it would be sure to
give rise to all sorts of surmises and conjectures. We pulled down the
blinds, and drove out through the town. When we were fairly past the
barracks, we again pulled them up and looked out. There was a faint
light growing up in the east, but the country round was as dark as ever.
We met or passed two or three solitary individuals going towards or from
the town to their work.
We were a silent party. Papa and Mr. Petersfield made an occasional
remark, and Polly tried once or twice to enliven us, but it would not
do. We all felt that we were engaged upon a serious business, and that
the future of our lives depended upon its result.
As we passed through Sturry, we again pulled down the blinds, for the
villagers were astir there. The light smoke was curling up from the
chimneys, the flickering fire-light could be seen through the latticed
windows, and many of the men were starting to their work. We drove up
the hill behind the village, and then the carriage turned up a narrow
lane, where it would be concealed from the sight of any one going along
the highroad. Here we got out, entered Mr. Harmer's grounds by a small
gate, and followed a footpath across the park up to the house, and then
went round to the front door. Now I was once there, I felt no longer
frightened, and the excitement of the adventure set my blood in a glow.
"What time is it?" I asked papa.
"Ten minutes to six," he said, "but I dare say Sarah is waiting for us."
She was, for the moment that we reached the door she opened it, and
stepped out to meet us.
"It is all ready, sir," she said to papa. "I oiled the lock and bolts
yesterday, and I had everything undone ready, so as to open the door
when I heard your footsteps on the gravel. I am not afraid now, sir, and
will go up with the young ladies if they like."
"No, Sarah--you had better wait in the hall, to let them know if you
hear any one stirring in the house. We shall remain out here. Now,
girls, courage and victory!"
"Now for it!" Polly said, and we went into the hall together.
There were three candlesticks with lighted candles on the table. We each
took one of them, and with light steps crossed the hall to the
chimney-place. Sarah at once knelt down, and unscrewed the dog's tongue,
touched the spring, then the one in the chimney, and the door swung
round with a slight creak, startling us, although we expected it.
While she was doing this, I looked round the hall, and I do not think
that the least trace of my past fear remained. I was thinking of the
last time I had been in that hall, some little time before my dear
mother's death. How different was my position then, and what changes had
these sad nine months brought about! I thought, too, for a moment of how
it might be the next time I entered it, with Sophy as undisputed
mistress; and, quickly as all these thoughts had flitted across my mind,
I had only got thus far when the creak of the opening door made me turn
sharply round, and prepare for the business on hand.
"Shall I go first, Agnes?" Polly asked, offering to pass me.
"No, no," I answered; "I am not in the least afraid now."
Nor was I. My pulse beat quick, but it was purely from excitement, and I
do not think at that moment, had the Misses Harmer suddenly stepped down
the staircase, before me, I should have been afraid of them. Holding my
candle well in front of me, I stooped under the low doorway, and began
to ascend the narrow stone stairs, Polly following closely behind. The
stairs, as papa had calculated, were only five or six in number, and we
then stood at once in the chamber into which for so many months we had
been so longing to penetrate. Now for the will!
After the first breathless look round, a low exclamation of
disappointment broke from each of us. There was no box or chest of any
kind to be seen. The room was a mere cell, a little more than six feet
high, eight feet long, and six wide. The walls were of rough stone,
which had been whitewashed at no very distant time. The only furniture
in it was a small table and an easy chair, both quite modern; indeed,
the chair was the fellow to one I remembered in Mr. Harmer's library. On
the table stood an inkstand, some pens and paper, and there were some
torn scraps of paper on the floor; on picking up one of which I
perceived words in Mr. Harmer's well-known handwriting. On the table,
too, were placed two or three of his scientific books, and a
half-consumed cigar lay beside them.
It was evident, from all this, that Mr. Harmer had been in the habit of
using this room for a study, and the warmth which we felt the moment
that we came into it, from its being against the kitchen chimney,
suggested his reasons for so using it. It was apparent that the room had
not been disturbed since he left it after reading there--on, perhaps,
the very night before his death.
There was no other furniture, and no place whatever where the will could
be concealed. We examined the walls closely, but without any result, the
only opening being a small hole near the roof, about four inches square,
and evidently leading into the kitchen chimney for the purpose of
ventilation. Hiding-place, as far as we could see, there was none.
The stairs did not stop on reaching the room, but wound upwards. I
ascended them very cautiously, and found that they went up about ten
steps, and then ended at a small door, on which were two bolts with
which any one inside could fasten it, and so prevent its opening, even
if the secret springs outside were discovered and touched. This door, I
had no doubt, formed the entrance into Mr. Harmer's room, and opened by
some spring which I could not perceive; nor indeed did I look for it,
but returned with a heavy heart to Polly, who had remained in the
chamber, and who was in vain examining the walls for any sign of a
hidden closet. We looked ruefully in each others faces.
"It is no use, Polly," I said, as cheerfully as I could. "We shall not
find the will here."
"I am afraid not," she said, and gave me a silent kiss, expressing her
sorrow for my sake; and then taking our candles, we went down the stairs
into the hall again.
Sarah was standing listening with hushed breath.
"Have you found it, miss?"
"No, Sarah--the place is quite empty."
"Oh dear! oh dear!" Sarah exclaimed, almost crying with vexation. "I am
so sorry."
We put our candles down on the hall table, and went out into the open
air. We shook our heads in answer to the looks of papa and Mr.
Petersfield. They asked no questions, for they saw at once by our looks
that we had found no signs of the will, and the present was no time or
place for explanation. So we turned off from the house, and walked fast
across the grounds, and out to where the carriage was standing, for the
morning was fairly broken now, and our figures could have been seen for
a considerable distance.
Once in the carriage, we related all that we had seen, and that there
was no sign of the will to be found. Mr. Petersfield and papa were both
very much disappointed. Mr. Petersfield remarked that most likely we had
been within arm's reach of the will, for it was certain now that Mr.
Harmer did use that room for a study, and that no doubt there was some
secret hiding-place there, made originally for the concealment of
important papers in case the entrance to the secret chamber should be
discovered. It was a singular fancy of Mr. Harmer's to use that little
place for writing in.
"I can quite understand that," papa said. "Mr. Harmer lived a long time
in India, where the night and early morning are the pleasantest part of
the twenty-four hours, and I have heard him say that he often rose at
four o'clock, and got through five hours' writing before breakfast; and
I can remember now that I once said to him that he must find it very
cold in winter, and he said, 'Oh, I have a very snug little place for
it.' I did not ask him where it was, although I dare say had I done so
he would have told me. But it is evident now that it was in this
chamber, which from its warmth, and from it so immediately adjoining his
room, would be very convenient for him, as he would not be under any
fear of disturbing the house by his movements. I have no doubt you are
correct in your conjecture, and that there is some secret receptacle
there for papers, which could never be discovered without the secret
being communicated."
"At any rate we must give it up now," I said, "and I have not the least
idea that we shall ever hear any more of it."
The others were silent, for they, too, felt that it was in vain now to
cherish any further hopes of its discovery.