The Mystery Deepens.
Never had I longed so eagerly to walk, as I did that evening when all
three cousins ran out of the room in pursuit of their missing
brother. I had not really been anxious before, for Harold, although
only nine years old, was well able to take care of himself, and I had
only regretted that he would probably get into trouble again with
father for disobedience. It never entered my head that he could
possibly be hidden in the house, far less that he should be in the
oak chest, which for all I knew was locked up.
The housemaid coming in just then, I begged her to carry me up to the
tower-room, putting aside for the moment the fear I had always had,
before my cousins came, of trusting myself to any one but father.
When we reached our den the children were standing by the chest,
which was open, and was empty.
"He has been here," said Rupert; "see how the things are pressed
down."
"I don't believe he could get in," said I; "it isn't long enough."
But my doubts were silenced by Kathleen stooping and lifting from one
corner a handkerchief stained with blood, which was still wet.
"This is Harold's!" she cried. "Whatever has happened to him!"
"His nose has been bleeding," said Jack, promptly; "you know it often
does. It would be enough to make a mummy's nose bleed to be shut up
in that old chest. I wish I had never told him what a splendid place
it would be to hide in. It seems I'm always to be at the bottom of
the mischief. We shouldn't have gone in that boat if I had not
suggested fishing, and Edric would still have had five fingers on
each hand if I hadn't fired the gun. Now poor old Harold will get
into a scrape for hiding so long, just because I went and showed him
how the spring of the chest worked, after I had ferreted it out
myself. Halloa, what are you about, Rupert? Don't kill me; I didn't
mean any harm."
Rupert had suddenly sprung at Jack, and seizing him by the arm almost
screamed out--
"Spring, did you say? Then it can't be opened from the inside."
In another moment Rupert had flung out the few odds and ends of old
clothing which were in the bottom of the chest, and sprang into it;
as he did so, his heels made a strange, hollow sound, which caught my
attention. He was rather tall for his age, and had to double himself
up in a way that would have delighted the heart of his gymnasium
master before he could say--
"Now shut it down, quick, and I'll see if I can open it; but mind you
undo the spring directly I give three knocks."
Of course, he could do nothing; the box could only be opened from the
outside by pressing the springs. We were glad enough to reply, to
his signal, and release the prisoner. Then we all stood with puzzled
faces looking at the open chest.
"What have you been up to?" said a cheery voice, and never were we
more relieved to see my mother. She listened gravely and quietly to
our account.
"If he has really been in that box, and the handkerchief certainly
seems to prove it, then some one must have got him out. Perhaps one
of the servants did. Let us go and inquire. You had better all come
downstairs; you look as white as the miller. There's nothing much to
be frightened at, after all. If Harold were able to get out of the
chest, he certainly was not smothered. As to his nose bleeding, you
know that won't hurt him. Perhaps he is asleep in bed; have you
looked?"
"We've ransacked every room in the house, and the servants have not
seen him since six o'clock."
Ten o'clock came, and with his usual punctuality father sounded the
gong for prayers. He insisted on doing it with the outer doors wide
open, so that if Harold were within earshot, he would be reminded
that it was bedtime. I had never been up to evening prayers before;
and as I lay with my hands clasped, I looked out for a moment to the
calm summer sky. There was a glorious moon, which made a path of
silver among the rhododendron bushes. It all looked very beautiful,
and my heart joined with delight in the words of thanksgiving which
father was speaking. Then he went on to pray that we might all be
guarded through the night; I thought of Harold, and said, Amen. I
had said my prayers night and morning ever since I was old enough to
know Who it was to whom I owed everything, but I am sure I had never
really prayed before. A change came over me that evening; God seemed
nearer to me, I seemed nearer to Him, and I realised fully for the
first time that He was my loving Father and King.
My eyes were closed for a moment in earnest, silent prayer; when I
opened them again--could it possibly be fancy?--I thought I saw a
figure going swiftly down the rhododendron path.
"The ghost!" I cried, not waiting till the family were off their
knees; "there's Jack's ghost again!"
Father ran out of the window; but, of course, as he had not seen the
mysterious visitor when he came before, he did not know which way he
went, and turned to the left. That gave the man a start; and
although I called out to father which way to go, he did not succeed
in finding any one.
We all waited in intense excitement till father came back; and then
the finishing touch to our evening was given by our young coachman
coming in with a broad grin on his face, without even waiting to
knock at the door.
"If you please, mum, Master Harold's sitting on my bed. I think he's
summat light-headed, for he keeps on asking how he got there, and
declares that he was in the oak chest and couldn't get out. Do you
mind coming to see him, mum?"
Robert had been out all the evening with my parents, and had only had
time to attend to the horse and put the carriage away when the gong
sounded for prayers, so he had not been in his room, which was above
the coach-house, since he dressed at four o'clock. Rupert and
Kathleen did a dance of delight round the table; while Jack, who was
still attired in his dressing-gown, had to content himself with
playing the castanets with his fingers and whistling.
"What a funny go," he cried, when his brother and sister had dropped
breathless into the one big armchair. "Listen! What do you say to
my ghost being the one who rescued him? If so, he must have left
Robert's room when you saw him, Edric. Oh dear, what a thing it is
to feel like a bottle of ginger beer, and yet have to behave as if
you were as flat as ditch water, owing to your stupid foot." Then,
with his usual sensitiveness, Jack felt that he had said something
which might hurt me, and hastened to mend it.
"That's my own fault, isn't it, Edric? And that's just why it's
harder to bear. Virtue is its own reward, they say, and so is
wickedness. Here he comes! 'I've waited long for you, my man; Oh,
welcome safe to land,'" he sang, gently, as Harold came in, holding
mother's hand and looking rather bewildered.
"Now, young man," said father, "give an account of yourself. What do
you mean by disobeying me and going out of the house when you
promised not, and harrowing the hearts of your brothers and sister
and all your relations?"
"Please, uncle, I didn't go out of the house," said Harold, earnestly.
[Illustration: Chapter IX tailpiece]
[Illustration: Chapter X headpiece]