What Happened at Easter
In spite of her real concern for Rosemary's disappointment, Lorraine
enjoyed the Easter holidays. There was much to be done in them. Morland
and Claudia were anxious to revisit the Sea-Nymph's Grotto, which had
been neglected during the winter, so with Landry in attendance they
chose a fine day, and had another delightful picnic there. Fortunately
the tides had not reached as high as the mouth of the cave, and their
"furniture" was undisturbed; even the shell patterns remained as
formerly, though the sea-weed was brown and shrivelled. That was a
matter easily remedied, however, for the rock pools below were full of
pink and green algæ, and corallines beautiful enough for a mermaid's
bouquet.
"It would be a ripping place for a hermit," said Morland. "I expect it
beats a dug-out hollow. I shall often think of it when I'm called up!"
"Me go to the war too!" said Landry suddenly.
He spoke so seldom that Claudia turned in surprise.
"No, Landry, dear, I couldn't spare you."
"But Morland's going!"
"All the more reason why you should stay at home and take care of me."
"Me want to be with you _both_," said Landry fretfully.
"But that can't be. The Government will send papers, and then Morland
will have to go."
There was trouble in the boy's blue eyes; his poor dull brain seemed to
be making a supreme effort to understand. He spoke again, still in the
language of a little child.
"Landry will take the nasty papers and hide them, and then Morland stay
at home."
"No, no, dear! Landry couldn't do that," laughed Claudia, fondling his
hand. "You must be my good boy and look after me when he's gone."
Landry relapsed once more into his habitual silence, but it was evident
that a new and unusual access of thought was stirring in his feeble
mind. He kept looking at Morland with awakened interest. Lorraine,
watching, wondered what was the result of his cogitations. His own
sister and brother, accustomed to his moods, took no more notice of an
occurrence that seemed trivial at the moment, but afterwards bore
unexpected fruit.
"When we've made the cave so nice, it seems almost a pity to keep it
_quite_ to ourselves," suggested Morland after a pause.
"Why, but we all pledged ourselves to absolute secrecy!"
"I know we did."
"Whom do you want to bring here?" enquired Claudia suspiciously.
"Oh, nobody in particular. Only Madame Bertier was asking me one day if
there were any caves along the coast. I thought she'd like to see this
one."
"You're not to bring that Russian woman here! I don't like her. I hope
you did not tell her about it?"
"Of course not!"
"Honest Injun?"
"Crystal clear I didn't!"
"It's _our_ secret, and _nobody_ is to know," said Claudia, still
ruffled. "Let us all take a sort of oath!"
"Right oh! _I_ shan't break it!" agreed Lorraine emphatically.
"Will you swear, Morland?" urged Claudia.
"Who's going to tell?" asked Morland huffily. "What a fuss you girls
make about nothing. The cave might be full of diamonds instead of only
shells!"
"Only shells, indeed!" Claudia's tone was belligerent.
"I wish you'd both help me to collect some shells," put in Lorraine,
trying to patch up peace. "I want some more desperately badly for the
museum."
A duty which Lorraine had undertaken during the holidays was the
arrangement of the school museum. She was the curator, but during term
time she was so fully occupied that she had never been able to sort and
label the specimens which the girls had brought to her. The whole
collection had been so far stored away in boxes. Now, however, Miss
Kingsley had set apart special premises for the museum. There was an
unused room at The Gables that in the days of former tenants had been
occupied by the coachman. It adjoined the house, but was approached by
an outside staircase from the yard. It had been filled with lumber, but
Miss Kingsley had had this cleared away, the floor had been scrubbed,
and some old desks moved in to serve as cases for the specimens.
Miss Kingsley and Miss Janet had gone away for Easter, and the servants
were also taking a much-needed rest. The Gables therefore was shut up
for the holidays, though the charwoman, who lived in a cottage close by,
went in to scrub and clean. Before leaving, Miss Kingsley had given
Lorraine the key of the museum, so that she might enter it when she
wished, quite independently of going to the house.
Lorraine spent very happy mornings there--sometimes alone, sometimes
with Claudia to help her. With the aid of natural history books from the
school library, she identified and labelled the specimens to the best of
her ability. It was a quiet kind of work that appealed to her. She felt
that the room was going to be a tremendous acquisition to the school.
All sorts of treasures could find a home on the walls, secure from the
meddlesome fingers of juniors. She intended to keep it as a sort of
sanctum for the monitresses, and had visions of holding committee
meetings there, and bringing tea in thermos flasks.
One morning she had arranged to spend a little time at the museum and to
meet Claudia, who had promised to come and help her. The trysting-place
was the old windmill, and Lorraine stood there waiting. Claudia was
late--the Castleton family were always late for everything--and Lorraine
walked impatiently up and down the road. Footsteps coming round the
corner made her turn expectantly. To her surprise, the new-comer was not
her friend, but her uncle, Mr. Barton Forrester.
"Why, Uncle!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing up here? I thought you
were so busy at the office?"
"So I am; and I ought to be at work now. This is what comes of being a
special constable! There's a pretty to-do to-day! The telephone wires
have been cut, and the job is to discover _where_!"
"The telephone wires cut!" echoed Lorraine. "But who has cut them?"
"Some spy, I suppose. One has constantly to be on the lookout for
treachery, especially in a place like this. If we could only find out
where the leakage is! There, Lorraine, I can't stay. I've got to see Mr.
Jermyn immediately."
Uncle Barton--busy, energetic little man that he was--waved his hand to
his niece and hurried away up the road, just as Claudia, also in a
hurry, turned the corner. Lorraine cut short her apologies with the news
about the telephone wires.
"It means," she explained, "that, until they find the place and can mend
it, Porthkeverne's cut off by telephone from all other places. You may
depend upon it, as Uncle says, there's some treachery at the bottom of
this. Isn't it horrible to think that there may be spies in the town,
ready to betray one's country?"
"Dreadful!" shuddered Claudia. "They ought to intern everyone who's the
least bit under suspicion."
The two girls walked rapidly to The Gables, and went into the
school-yard and up the outside staircase. Lorraine had the key in her
pocket, and unlocked the museum. Directly she entered, she noticed that
the room was not as she had left it. Some of the desks and boxes had
certainly been moved. She remembered exactly how she had placed them
yesterday. Her first thought was that Mrs. Jones, the charwoman, must
have been in to clean; but that was clearly impossible, for she herself
had the key. Who could have intruded into the sanctum, and for what
reason? She discussed it with Claudia. It gave them both a most uncanny
feeling to think that someone had been able to enter. The Gables was
practically shut up. Had a burglar been picking the locks during Miss
Kingsley's absence? There seemed to be nothing in the museum likely to
excite the cupidity of even an amateur thief; the specimens, though
interesting to the school, were of no monetary value. Lorraine's glance
went slowly round the room, and took in the desks and boxes, the walls,
on which she had pinned natural history prints, and finally wandered up
to the ceiling. Ah, here was a clue at last! The trap-door in the corner
had certainly been moved--it did not now quite fit down. There was about
an inch of light to be seen round its edge. A horrible idea suggested
itself to the girls. _Suppose somebody was in hiding up there!_
The bare notion blanched their cheeks. With one accord they fled from
the room, locked the door on the outside, and scurried down the steps.
In the yard they paused. What was to be done next? They did not feel
capable of tackling a possible burglar unaided, yet it seemed rather
weak to run away.
"Let's fetch Morland!" said Claudia.
The suggestion seemed a good one. Lorraine was only too content to throw
herself upon masculine aid. They walked at double speed to Windy Howe,
and hauled Morland from the piano. He stopped in the middle of a Brahms
sonata, and offered at once to go back with them to the school.
"You see, Miss Kingsley and everybody's away, and there's only the
charwoman about," explained Lorraine. "I know she'd be worse scared than
ourselves if we told her."
"Right-o! I'll go and investigate," agreed Morland, rather pleased to
show his courage before the girls.
So they all three went back to the museum, and here Morland placed
desks and boxes together, and mounted on them so as to reach the
trap-door, through which he wriggled. The girls held the pile steady,
and watched his long legs disappear through the opening.
"It leads on to the roof!" he shouted. "I'll climb up and explore. I'm
in a sort of garret with a ladder in the corner."
To the waiting girls it seemed a very long time before Morland returned.
At last, however, they heard his footsteps overhead, and he called to
them to hold the erection while he came down. It was with a sense of
relief that they saw his boots issue through the trap-door. They had had
an idea that he might have disappeared for ever.
"Well?"
"Did you see anybody?"
Morland shook his head. He was dusting his sleeves, and trying to rub
the dirt off his hands.
"I didn't catch a burglar, but I've made a discovery," he said slowly.
"What?"
The girls were half-frightened, half-thrilled.
"I've been on the roof. Did you know the telephone wires run over the
school?"
"I never noticed."
"Well, they do. And what's more, they've been cut!"
"Great Scott!"
"Whoever did it has been very clever. It was a unique spot to get at
them, and impossible to be seen from the road."
"I must tell Uncle Barton _at once_!" gasped Lorraine breathlessly.
"It's exactly what he was wanting to find out!"
"We'd better ask Mrs. Jones if anybody has been hanging about the
place," suggested Claudia.
The charwoman, on being interviewed, assured them that nobody had been
to the school. There was only one key to the museum, so it could not
have been entered in their absence.
"Did you leave the window open?" asked Morland of Lorraine.
"I believe I did, just a little at the top."
"Well, don't you notice that the leads below the window communicate with
one of the bedroom windows of the school? Any one inside The Gables
could step out and get into the museum that way."
"But Mrs. Jones says nobody has been in the school, didn't you, Mrs.
Jones?"
"Yes, miss, no one but myself--except--yes, I do remember, one of the
teachers came and asked if she might fetch a book she'd forgotten, and I
let her go in."
"Which teacher was it?"
"That foreign lady."
"Madame Bertier?"
"I don't know her name. She wasn't there more than a few minutes."
"Oh!" said Lorraine thoughtfully. "Thank you, Mrs. Jones!"
Uncle Barton also looked thoughtful, when Lorraine described to him the
whole occurrence. He wrote a note at once to the Chief Constable, to
tell him where the telephone wires were cut, and sent the office boy to
deliver it. Then he asked for any details his niece could supply.
"You're a little brick!" he commented. "There's treachery at work
somewhere, undoubtedly, but the question is how to lay our hands on it.
Can I trust you and the Castletons just to keep this dark for the
present? I'd rather it wasn't noised all about the place. I've my own
ideas, and I want to work them out in my own way."
"Shall I say anything about it to Madame Bertier?" asked Lorraine.
"Most decidedly not! Please don't mention the matter to anybody. You can
give _me_ the key of the museum till Miss Kingsley returns. You don't
need to go there again at present?"
"I'd be scared to death!" confessed Lorraine.
In spite of Uncle Barton Forrester's injunctions, the episode of the cut
telephone wires became known. The Castletons on their return home had
found Madame Bertier in their father's studio, sitting for her portrait,
and, being full of the exciting subject, had poured out their story. The
pretty Russian was aghast.
"It is too horrible!" she exclaimed; "to have happened while Miss
Kingsley is away! Some burglar would be bad--but it is perhaps a spy. I
was at The Gables yesterday, just for a moment, to fetch a book. I saw
nothing! Had I met anyone I should indeed have been very alarmed! The
police will no doubt keep the house under observation now."
"The question is how anybody got into the room when it was locked," said
Claudia.
"Perhaps they brought a ladder. You say the window was left open?"
"Yes, but it's shut and fastened now. Whoever came wouldn't be able to
get in so easily again."
The Easter holidays were nearly over, and in a few days the Miss
Kingsleys would be back to look after their own property, and take what
precautions they thought fit against burglars or spies. At the near
prospect of term time, Claudia, whose spirits had effervesced lately,
suddenly waxed serious. Lorraine could not make out what was the matter
with her.
"You look about as cheerful as an undertaker, old sport!" she
remonstrated. "Something's got on your nerves!"
"I'm in a beastly hole," admitted Claudia, with a gusty sigh. "I know
I'm a slacker."
"What have you been doing?"
"Something awful!"
"Go ahead and confess, then!"
They were sitting in the garden at Windy Howe, resting after planting
some rows of peas, and sheltering under a tree from the heavy drops of a
sudden April shower. Claudia pulled off her gardening gloves, and rested
a delicately-modelled chin upon a prettily-shaped hand. There was
desperate trouble in her blue eyes.
"I'm scared to go back to school, and that's the fact! I've done an
awful thing! The day we broke up, Miss Janet gave me some papers to be
signed and sent in to the Kindergarten College. She said they must be
posted before the 6th. I put them in my coat pocket. Well--I've only
just remembered them."
Lorraine was aghast.
"Claudia! Your application for the exam! How _could_ you forget?"
"I don't know, but I did!" groaned the sinner.
"When did you remember?"
"Only this morning. I hadn't worn my coat during the holidays, it was
too hot. I put it on this morning to run to the town to shop for Violet,
and stuck my hand in my pocket, and found that wretched envelope."
"But did you never think of it once during the holidays? I should have
thought studying would bring it to your mind."
"I haven't done any studying--I was so dead sick of lessons," confessed
Claudia. "I've just been playing about with the children all the time."
"Oh!"
Lorraine's tone was eloquent.
"What _will_ Miss Janet say?" speculated Claudia gloomily.
What, indeed? Lorraine did not dare to anticipate what would happen at
The Gables on the receipt of such news. Only a member of the haphazard
Castleton family would have been capable of such a shiftless act. It was
exactly what Morland would have done, but Lorraine had expected better
things from Claudia.
[Illustration: "CLAUDIA! HOW _COULD_ YOU FORGET?"]
"Can't you get it signed now, and send it off?" she suggested.
"Father's away to-day, but I'll ask him to sign it when he comes back,
and post it at once. I don't suppose it's much use, though."
"Oh, Claudia, I'm so sorry!"
"Well, it can't be helped now," said her friend, rather impatiently.
"The rain's stopped, and I'm going to plant another row of peas."
Lorraine could not quite understand Claudia's attitude of mind, which
seemed to hold more dread of Miss Janet's anger than concern for missing
the application for the scholarship. There was a curious shade of relief
mingled with her contrition. She began to sing quite cheerfully as she
planted the peas, and, when Constable came running past, she picked him
up and kissed him.
"Violet would miss me dreadfully if I went away. We've been friends the
last few days," she remarked later on. "I helped to make Baby a new
frock, and he looks so sweet in it. He _is_ a darling!"
There was trouble at The Gables when the Misses Kingsley returned and
learnt the bad news. They wrote off at once to Miss Halden, explaining
the circumstances, but the answer came back that certain rules of the
College were very strict, and the governors could not consider any
application submitted later than the 6th.
"Also," wrote the Principal. "I feel that a girl, who could forget such
an immensely important step in her own career, would be of no use to us,
and I could not feel justified in awarding her a scholarship. I am
exceedingly sorry, but fear this decision must be final."
So there, as far as the College was concerned, the matter ended. At
school, however, Claudia with an obstinate look on her face weathered
the storm of Miss Janet's contempt.
"After all the trouble I took in coaching you! It's really too bad!
You've ruined your own career, and no one but yourself to thank for it!
Why, the scholarship was as good as gained! You'd so easily have passed
the exam. It was all arranged with Miss Halden, and you've spoilt the
whole thing with your carelessness. You might at least have the grace to
say that you're sorry!"
"I'm very sorry, Miss Janet," said Claudia in an apathetic voice.
The mistress glanced at her keenly.
"I doubt if you really are! I can't make you out! I'm disgusted with the
whole affair. One gets very little thanks for trying to help people!"
Claudia, in terrible disgrace, retired sobbing. Later on, however, she
poured confidences into Lorraine's ear.
"I'm sorry of course to disappoint Miss Janet, but I can't tell you how
relieved I am, really! I never wanted to go, and that's the fact. I'd
have _hated_ to be a kindergarten teacher! I'd rather go on the land if
I leave home at all, but--but----"
"Claudia!" began Lorraine, with sudden enlightenment, "were you going to
be _home-sick_?"
"I suppose so. I'm fond of the children, you know, though I get fed up
with them sometimes. It would take a very strong magnet to draw me away.
Perhaps if something really _fascinating_ offered, I'd want to go--but
not for Kindergarten! No thanks! Some other girl may get the scholarship
instead of me, and she's welcome to it. After all, home is a very nice
place."
"It certainly is. I don't want to leave mine just at present," agreed
Lorraine reflectively.