THE DISCOVERY
The removal of the old chimney-piece was not an easy task. If the Hartley
boys hadn't been big and strongly-built, they could scarcely have
succeeded in tearing away the woodwork from the wall. But they did do it,
and their labours were rewarded by the discovery of the long-lost
fortune!
Sure enough the historic "poke" was a pocket or recess between the old
bedhead and the main wall. It was really built in the chimney itself,
though not in the flue. But this chimney-place, with its wonderfully
carved mantel, was never used for fires, and the fortune had remained
undisturbed in its hiding-place.
As the boys lifted away the portion of the heavy oak that covered the
secret pocket, a rough wall of plaster was seen, and by tapping on it,
Sinclair learned that it was hollow.
"Shall we break through?" he said. "I feel sure the money is there."
"Break through, of course," cried Bob; "but wait a moment till I lock the
doors. This is no time for intruders."
Bob fastened the doors, and then with a hatchet they broke through the
plaster.
And even as the old mortar crumbled beneath their blows, out fell a
shower of glittering gold coins and tightly folded banknotes!
The sight was too much for the strained nerves of the watchers. Mabel
burst into tears, and Mrs. Cromarty trembled like a leaf.
The boys broke into shouts of joy, and Patty scarcely knew whether to
laugh or cry. But in a moment they were all congratulating each other and
showering praises on Patty for her cleverness in the matter.
"It's ours! It's ours!" cried Bob. "It's Grandy's, to be sure, but it
belongs to old Cromarty Manor, and we're all Cromartys. Patty, you're
hereby adopted and made one of us."
"What shall we do with it?" asked the more practical Sinclair. "I mean,
just at present. We must take care of it, at once, you know. We can't
leave it long like this."
"There's the old Spanish chest," said Mrs. Hartley, indicating a
good-sized affair that stood nearby. "Put it in that."
"Just the thing," said Bob. "Lend a hand, Clair."
It was a strange proceeding. The old coins, many of them still bright,
though of far back dates; represented a great deal of money. How much,
they could not guess as yet, but it was surely a large sum. Also there
were Bank of England notes, folded small that they might be pushed
through the openings in the carved oak, and well-preserved, as the pocket
had been carefully made damp-proof.
The boys took the money out in double handfuls and deposited it in the
old Spanish chest.
"It will be quite safe there until to-morrow," said Mrs. Hartley, "and
then we must get it to the bank. But as no one yet knows of our
discovery, there can be no danger of its being stolen to-night."
"What ever made Uncle Marmaduke choose this way of concealing his
fortune?" asked Bob, as he kept on transferring the money from its
hiding-place to the chest.
"He had a fear of banks or investments," said Mrs. Cromarty. "I've often
heard him say he wouldn't trust any of them. He said he'd rather be sure
of his principal, and go without his interest."
"Crickets!" said Bob, "if all this _had_ been out at interest for forty
years, think how it would have increased!"
"Yes," said his mother, "but in that case it would not have been hidden,
and before now, it might have all been spent."
"Then I'm glad the old gentleman chose this way of banking. And I suppose
he meant to leave full instructions where to find it."
"Well," said Sinclair, "we found it without his instructions, thanks to
our Patty."
And then they all began again to bless and praise Patty, until she was
really embarrassed at their overwhelming gratitude.
"We'd offer you a share," said Bob, gaily, "but you already have more
than you know what to do with."
"Perhaps not quite that," said Patty, smiling, "but I have enough. And,
oh! I am so glad that you have your own at last."
"How much do you suppose there is?" asked Mabel, awestruck, as she
watched the boys still carrying their precious handfuls across the room.
"Enough to buy you some new frocks, sister," said Sinclair, "and enough
to fix up dear old Cromarty as it should be fixed up."
"There must be thousands of pounds," said Grandma Cromarty. "To think of
Marmaduke exchanging all his securities and bonds for gold and notes! I
suppose he did it while I was away in London. He was a most erratic man."
"Well, you see," said Sinclair, thoughtfully, "once he had the place
built, he could drop his money through whenever he received any. I can
imagine the old chap, after every one else in the house was in bed,
standing here and dropping in his coins one by one, and listening to them
clink. Why, it's like a child's toy savings-bank, on a large scale."
"It's a large scale!" said Bob. "Whew! I'm tired out. But it's nearly all
in the chest now, and see, Grandy, the chest is nearly full! When shall
we count it? And how _shall_ we get this mess cleared away? If the
servants come in here, they'll know it all, at once. And I think we ought
to keep the matter quiet until we can cart the gold away to the bank."
"I think so too," said his mother. "Suppose we leave this room exactly as
it is, and lock it all up until to-morrow. Then we can talk it over this
evening, and decide what is best to do. I think we should consult with
Lawyer Ashton, and let him advise us."
So, after carefully securing the windows, and locking all the doors of
the room, it was a merry-hearted family who went away to dress for
dinner.
"Let's put on our prettiest frocks, and make the dinner a sort of
celebration feast," said Patty, who dearly loved an "occasion."
"We will," said Mabel, "and Grandy must wear her black velvet."
Mrs. Cromarty was easily persuaded, and the happy old lady looked almost
regal as, in her trailing gown, she led the way to the dining-room. The
dinner conversation was on the all-absorbing topic, and Patty realised
afresh how dearly these people loved their old home, and how anxious they
were to devote their newly-found fortune to restoring the glories of the
place.
"And now we can have the garden party!" exclaimed Mabel. "You know,
Patty, we've had one every summer for years and years, and this summer we
thought we couldn't afford it. What fun to have you here to it!"
"Let's have it soon," said Sinclair. "Can you get ready in a week,
mother?"
"Give me a little longer than that, son. And we want to send out the
invitations about ten days before the party."
"We'll make the lists to-night. Let's invite everybody. I suppose, after
we put the money safely away, there's no necessity for secrecy about it."
"No, I think not. All our friends will rejoice with us, that we've found
it at last."
Later on, they all sat round the library table, and made plans for the
garden party. Patty discovered that it would be a much larger and more
important affair than she had imagined. The invitation list soon rose to
about four hundred, and seemed literally to include everybody in all the
country round.
"I really ought to have a new frock for the party," said Mabel; "but
we've so much going on that I won't have time to get one made."
This gave Patty an idea, and she determined to give Mabel a little
surprise. While they were making the plans for the fete, she was
planning to write to Lady Hamilton and ask her to send down from London
two new frocks for herself and Mabel to wear at the garden party. She
felt sure she could secretly procure one of Mabel's old dresses to send
for a pattern, and she meant that Mabel should not know of it until the
new frock arrived.
The evening was a merry one, indeed. The boys were so exuberant that they
laughed and sang snatches of songs, and exclaimed over and over how much
they appreciated the good turn Patty had done them.
The two elder ladies were more quietly glad, and it did Patty's heart
good to see that the sad, anxious expression was gone from Mabel's face.
The days before the garden party flew by quickly, for there was much to
be done. Extra servants had to be secured, some repairing done in house
and gardens, and the caterer's orders attended to. The day before the
party the dresses arrived from London. Lady Hamilton had chosen them,
though Patty had given her a general idea of what she wanted.
Though they were called white muslin frocks, they were made almost
entirely of fine embroidery and lace. Mabel's was worn over a pink silk
slip, and Patty's over blue. Frenchy knots of ribbon were placed here and
there, and when the boxes were opened and the tissue papers torn away,
Mabel gave a shriek of delight at the beautiful things.
Patty had wanted to give Mabel a pretty frock, but had hesitated to do
so, lest she wound her pride.
But this seemed different, and Patty offered the gift so prettily, as a
souvenir of the garden party, that Mabel accepted it in the spirit it was
given.
The day of the party was perfect. Just the right temperature, and not a
cloud in the blue sky, except some fleecy little white ones that were as
innocent as kittens.
The party was from three till six, and promptly at three o'clock the
guests began to arrive. There was a continuous stream of carriages and
motor cars, and soon Patty was almost bewildered by the crowds of people.
Although introduced to them as they arrived, she couldn't remember them
all. But many of them she had met before, and after a time she and Mabel
were excused from the receiving party, and were sent to mingle with the
guests.
The old place was looking its best. Though there had not been time for
much work on the gardens, yet a deal of tidying up had been done. New
flowers had been set out in the formal flower beds, the fountains had
been repaired and put in working order, and the shrubs and hedges had
been trimmed. Patty, looking very sweet in her lovely white dress,
wandered around indoors and out, greeting old friends and making new
ones.
The house was thrown open, and of course the old chimney-piece, which had
been replaced, was scrutinised with great interest. Patty was lionised
until she became almost embarrassed at being made so prominent. But
everybody was thoroughly glad that the Cromartys had come into their
fortune at last. On the lawn was a band of musicians in gay scarlet and
gold uniforms, who played popular music at intervals during the
afternoon. The terraces and gardens were filled with groups of people
pleasantly chatting, and the ladies' pretty summer costumes added to the
brilliancy of the scene.
At four o'clock tea was served in a great round tent, which had been put
up for the purpose. Although called tea, the repast was a substantial
supper of various and elaborate viands. Patty thought she had never seen
so many sorts of salads and carefully constructed cold dishes. She sat at
a small table with the Merediths and some other young people.
"You're going to stay here all summer, aren't you?" asked Tom, who
sincerely hoped she was.
"I don't know," replied Patty. "I'd love to stay, for I'm happy every
minute here. But my own people are writing me very urgently to join them
in Switzerland. They're in such delightful quarters there, that they
think I'd like it too."
"Oh, don't go. Stay here with us. We're going to get up a croquet club,
and we want you to be a member."
"I'll be glad to, if I stay. But where are the people going now?"
The guests had all risen, and were being led to a part of the grounds
where a platform had been erected. On this were a troupe of entertainers
called The Pierrots. They all wore funny white suits, with little black
pompons bobbing all over them. They sang amusing songs, played on cymbals
and other instruments, did some clever acrobatic work, and for a
half-hour entertained the guests who stood about on the grass, or sat on
camp chairs to watch them.
At six o'clock the guests all took leave, and the great procession of
vehicles again appeared on the driveway. Mrs. Cromarty and Mrs. Hartley
received their good-byes, and Patty and Mabel invited a number of the
young people to remain to dine and spend the evening.
"Though I'm sure we can't eat any dinner, after that very satisfying
tea," said Grace Meredith, as she accepted the invitation.
In the evening they all went out on the lake for a moonlight row. Several
new boats had been bought, and the young men rowed the girls about. The
boats were hung with Chinese lanterns, which gave the lake the appearance
of a regatta or a water festival.
Then back to the house for a dance in the great hall. The musicians had
remained, and to their inspiriting strains the young people glided about
in merry measures.
"Do give me another waltz," Tom Meredith begged of Patty.
"I'd be glad to, Tom," said Patty, frankly; "but I can't do it without
offending somebody else. I love to dance with you, but you've had three
already, and I've promised all the rest."
But Tom wheedled Mrs. Hartley into allowing one more extra, after the
last dance, and he claimed Patty for that.
"You're the best dancer I ever saw," said Tom, as they floated away.
"You're the best English dancer I ever saw," laughed Patty, for she well
knew English people do not dance like Americans. Good-natured Tom didn't
mind her implication, and after the waltz was ended he led her out on the
terrace to sit down for a bit and rest. There were several others there,
the Hartley boys among them, and soon they began to sing songs.
Others came and joined them, and the young voices rose in merry choruses
and glees.
"You have splendid songs in England," said Patty, after the men's voices
had come out strong in "Hearts of Oak" and "Rule Britannia."
"Yes, we have," agreed Tom. "But, Patty, won't you sing something alone?"
"Do," chorused the rest, and Mabel said: "Sing that newest song that you
and Sinclair made."
"'The Moon's Song?'" asked Patty.
"Yes; this is just the night for it."
The moon was nearing the western horizon, and its soft light fell across
the lake in silver ripples. Truly it was just the time and place to sing
the pretty song of which Patty had composed the words, and Sinclair had
set them to music. It was a simple air, but full of soft, lingering
cadences, and without accompaniment Patty's really sweet voice sounded
exquisite as it thrilled through the summer evening air.
The song was called "The Minstrel Moon," and the words were these:
"I wonder if the moon could sing,
On a marvellous, mystical night in spring,
I wonder what the song would be
That the minstrel moon would sing to me.
And as I think, I seem to know
How the music of the moon would go.
It would be a mystic, murmuring strain
Like the falling of far-away fairy rain.
Just a soft and silvery song
That would swing and swirl along;
Not a word
Could be heard
But a lingering ding-a-dong.
Just a melody low and sweet,
Just a harmony faint and fleet,
Just a croon
Of a tune
Is the Music of the Moon."