A Strong Suspicion
If Lindsay and Cicely had counted upon finding something interesting
behind the closed door, they were much disappointed. The room was
absolutely bare and unfurnished. It was not panelled, as mysterious
rooms ought to be, but had an old-fashioned and rather ugly wallpaper,
adorned with big bunches of grapes and flowers; and there was a plain,
whitewashed ceiling. At one side a window overlooked the garden, and at
the other was a shallow store cupboard, the open door of which revealed
rows of empty shelves, probably intended for jam or linen.
There was nothing to give the least suggestion of romance, or the
possibility of any concealed hiding-place. There was no carved
overmantel nor four-post bed; in fact, the only article of any
description to be seen was a large horn lantern that hung from a hook in
the ceiling. The curious noise had ceased, and although the girls looked
round most carefully, they were not able to find anything which would
account for it.
"There isn't a corner that even a cat might hide in," said Lindsay. "It
was so loud, too! I can't understand it in the least."
"I call it rather uncanny. Let us go!" said Cicely.
She was stepping down on to the little landing again, when, to her
dismay, she almost ran into the arms of Mrs. Wilson, who, still in black
bonnet and mantle, had returned from the village sooner than they
anticipated, and must have come unheard up the winding staircase.
"The Griffin's" surprise at seeing them seemed as great as their own.
She gave a gasp of consternation, peeped hastily inside the empty room,
then turned to Lindsay and Cicely with a look of mingled relief and
wrath.
"What were you doing in the lantern room?" she asked sharply. "You know
perfectly well you've no right to be up here. You must mind your own
business, and keep to your own places, instead of poking and ferreting
about into matters that don't concern you. I can't have you rambling
about wherever you please, and the sooner you understand that the
better. It was sorely against my advice that the Manor was let for a
school!"
She spoke rudely, and seemed more upset and annoyed than the occasion
warranted. She swept the two girls downstairs before her, muttering
angrily as she went, and did not let them out of her sight until she
had watched them safely into the garden.
"How horrid she was!" exclaimed Cicely, when they were alone, and able
to talk things over. "Miss Russell never said we weren't to go on to
that top landing."
"What was Mrs. Wilson doing there herself--in an empty room, in such a
deserted part of the house?" asked Lindsay meditatively.
"I don't know. She looked quite aghast at seeing us."
"I believe there's something about it we don't understand. Perhaps she
has some reason beyond mere fussiness and nastiness for wanting to keep
us away from that particular room."
"What kind of a reason?"
"Well, suppose she had discovered the hiding-place?"
"Wouldn't she tell Monica?"
"She might intend to take some of the money."
"Oh, how dreadful! It's quite possible, though, that she knows where it
is. She was housekeeper to old Sir Giles for ever so many years."
"It seems to me most suspicious," said Lindsay. "We must watch her, and
find out everything we can, for Monica's sake."
The idea that Mrs. Wilson was concealing the treasure for her own ends
was a thrilling one. The more they thought about it, the more probable
it appeared. Who had a better opportunity than she of searching the old
house? She might even have been present when her eccentric master stowed
his fortune so carefully away. If this were really the case, the
greatest caution was necessary, for to allow "The Griffin" to see that
they had noticed anything might entirely spoil their plans.
"We must treat her just as usual," said Lindsay, "only we must keep our
eyes and ears open, in case something should turn up to give us a hint."
For the next few days they behaved with what they considered the
greatest diplomacy. They took care not to aggravate Mrs. Wilson, nor in
any way to attract her special attention; but they looked out for the
slightest chance of following her movements, dodging round corners, and
stalking her along passages with the zeal of detectives. Unfortunately
their efforts were not so unobserved as they supposed, and drew down a
reproof from headquarters.
"Lindsay and Cicely! how is it that you are continually loitering about
the landing when you ought to be in the garden?" said Miss Russell. "I
shall have to make a new rule, that nobody is to come upstairs until ten
minutes before meals. In this lovely weather I expect you to be
out-of-doors. It is a shame to waste a minute in the house. Don't let me
find you here again during recreation time."
This was a blow, as it brought the great scheme temporarily to a
standstill. The girls could not venture to disobey openly, and judged it
wiser to let things rest for the present, until the mistress should have
forgotten the matter, and they might once more quietly begin to renew
their investigations.
"We'll play cricket hard, and put our names down for the tennis
handicap," said Lindsay. "We mustn't on any account let Miss Russell
think we'd a special motive in what we were doing."
"Rather not! We'll 'lie low and say nuffin'', like Brer Rabbit," agreed
Cicely.
There was no lack of liveliness or occupation at the Manor to justify
anybody in idling about the passages, and there were certainly many
small excitements, apart from mysterious chambers or hidden treasures.
All kinds of funny events kept occurring which had never disturbed the
prim atmosphere of Winterburn Lodge.
Nora Proctor and Marjorie Butler awoke half the school one night by loud
and repeated screams, and when Miss Frazer rushed into their room,
imagining fire or burglars, she found them cowering behind the bed
curtains, in mortal terror of a large bat that had made its way through
the open casement. Earwigs were a constant nuisance, and everyone grew
almost accustomed to catching green caterpillars, which crept in from
the roses that surrounded the windows, and would turn up in the most
undesirable spots.
Naturally so old a house was infested with rats and mice. They scuttled
inside the walls, and squeaked behind the wainscots, and seemed to hold
carnival at the back of the oak panelling, often disturbing the girls at
night with the noise. This was particularly noticeable in the room where
Lindsay and Cicely slept. They were sometimes awakened by sounds like
the rolling of barrels overhead, as if heavy objects were being clanked
about up in the ceiling.
"You've no need to be afraid of them," said Mrs. Wilson, who made light
of all complaints, "they never venture out of the walls, to my
knowledge."
The fear, however, that a rat might possibly gnaw its way into her
bedroom afflicted Cicely continually.
"If it ran across my pillow I should die of fright, I know I should!"
she wailed. "I wish Mrs. Wilson would let us have the cat to sleep with
us. I should feel far safer."
"I wish we could send for the Pied Piper, and get rid of them all. They
woke me twice last night," said Lindsay.
Poor Cicely never dared to retire without first having a thorough
examination to assure herself that no lurking rodent was lying hidden
behind the wardrobe, or in any other obscure corner. One evening she was
making her usual round, armed with a tennis racket for protection, and
was peeping under the bed, when she suddenly let the valance fall
hurriedly, and drew back with a shriek.
"There's a rat there! I saw it quite plainly; its great big eyes were
glaring at me!" she announced in a trembling voice.
"What are we to do?" exclaimed Lindsay, in equal consternation.
"Call for Miss Frazer this instant. She hasn't gone downstairs yet."
"Don't disturb it on any account!" decreed Miss Russell, who was fetched
from the drawing-room to cope with the emergency. "I shall send at once
for Scott, the gardener, and ask him to bring his terrier dog. We must
really take some measures to destroy these pests."
It was not very long before Scott arrived. He clumped solemnly up the
stairs with a thick stick in his hand, and Bill, his sharp little fox
terrier, at his heels. Mrs. Wilson accompanied him, bearing the kitchen
poker; and the parlour-maid followed, holding the yard dog by the
collar, in case Bill should miss his prey. Miss Frazer and Miss
Humphreys were there to support Miss Russell; while Mademoiselle and a
great many of the girls hovered outside in the passage, half-frightened
and half-excited over the coming fray.
"If you'll please to tell me where the young lady saw it, mum," said
Scott, "I'll let Bill on it sudden. He's death on rats."
"It was just at the foot of the bed," quavered Cicely. Scott stooped,
and raised the valance with the greatest precaution. Bill sniffed
eagerly, but he did not pounce upon any concealed victim.
"There's nothing there, mum--leastways no rat," said Scott,
straightening his back.
"Are you sure?" gasped Miss Russell. "It couldn't possibly have
escaped."
"I think it's been a little mistake of the young lady's, mum," said
Scott, suppressing a grin. "If you'll kindly take a look under the bed,
you'll see for yourself."
Miss Russell hastened to comply, and, bending down, gave an exclamation
as she drew out one of Lindsay's best Sunday gloves.
"What an extraordinary illusion!" she cried. "I don't wonder Cicely took
it for a rat. The soft doeskin is exactly the same colour, and the
buttons were gleaming just like two bright eyes. I never saw a more
perfect resemblance. I should certainly have been deceived. Well, I'm
glad our chase has been a case of much ado about nothing. I think you
may go to bed with easy minds to-night, girls. If we have any more
alarms, we must send for Bill to protect us. Good dog! Can you find
some scraps for him in the kitchen, Mrs. Wilson?"
Cicely's rat was of course a great joke in the school, and a subject of
teasing for several days afterwards.
"You'll imagine your dressing-gown is a tiger next," said Effie
Hargreaves.
"Some people scream at nothing. I'd have been sure about it first,
before making such a fuss," said Beryl Austen.
"She thought it was a wily rat, and watched to see it move,
She looked again, and saw that it was nothing but a glove!"
improvised Nora Proctor, who was fond of _Alice_, and had rather a taste
for parody.
"It was such a disappointment to us, when we were waiting to hear the
scuffle," said Marjorie Butler.
"We shan't believe in your scares next time," said Effie.
"It's all very well, but I'm sure you'd have been just as frightened
yourselves," retorted Cicely. "You've no need to make so much fun of
me."
"It's too bad. I vote we pay them out, and have the laugh on our side,"
sympathized Lindsay, leading her friend away. "I've thought of such a
capital idea. Come to the summer-house and we'll talk it over."
As the result of Lindsay's cogitations, the two girls went boldly to
Mrs. Wilson, and begged an old cardboard box.
"It's half to pieces," said "The Griffin", quite amiably, for a wonder.
"It's not much good you'll do with it, I'm afraid."
"Never mind, it's enough for what we want, thank you. We're not going to
put anything very heavy in it, are we, Cicely?"
Cicely's reply was such a wildly hysterical giggle that Mrs. Wilson
stared at her in offended surprise.
"She's only silly!" explained Lindsay hurriedly. "Please, could you let
us have some scraps of dark cloth? Perhaps there'd be something in the
rag bag. Be quiet, you stupid!"
The last remark was aside to the irrepressible Cicely, who straightened
her face with an effort. "We're going to do some sewing," she
volunteered, choking back her mirth.
"You're not generally so industrious," said Mrs. Wilson grimly. "I
should be glad to see you using your needle for once. It seems all
tennis and croquet with you young ladies."
She produced the rag bag, however, and allowed the girls to take their
choice of the various odds and ends which it contained. They selected a
piece of rough, hair-brown serge; then, fetching their work-baskets,
they retired to a remote part of the garden, where they were not likely
to be disturbed. If Mrs. Wilson had imagined they were about to engage
in some fine and delicate needlework, she was much mistaken. They
confined themselves to cutting and snipping, and to a few big, cobbling
stitches that would have caused her to exclaim in righteous horror.
At the end of half an hour all was finished, and Lindsay proudly held up
the result of their labours. It really was not a bad imitation of a rat.
It had a nice round, plump body, four squat legs, a pointed nose, and a
long, thin tail.
"We can't make whiskers," said Lindsay, "but that doesn't matter in the
least. They wouldn't notice them. What a good thing it's light until so
late now! They'll be able to see it perfectly well."
"We couldn't manage if the bed weren't a four-poster," said Cicely,
chuckling in anticipation of the fun to come.
Beryl Austen and Effie Hargreaves slept in a room almost opposite to
Lindsay's and Cicely's. Before eight o'clock arrived the two latter
contrived to make an excuse to go upstairs, and hastily completed their
preparations. The arrangements were ingenious. They fastened their rat
very lightly by two pieces of thin sewing cotton to the middle of the
piece of tapestry that formed the roof of the great four-post bed. To
the cotton was attached a long strand of string, which passed through
the curtains and out at the door (conveniently near the bed), the end
being hidden under the mat on the landing.
"You'll see, when we jerk the string, the cotton will break, then down
will plump the rat right on to their chests," said Lindsay, justly proud
of her inventive powers. "Poke the box under the valance, Cicely, quick!
I thought I heard someone coming."
The cardboard box contained a bobbin, to which a second string was tied,
and concealed in the same manner as the first.
"I don't believe they'll suspect anything," said Cicely. "Won't it be
lovely to give them a scare!"
At bedtime the conspirators retired innocently as usual, having wished
Beryl and Effie good night in the passage.
"I nearly said I hoped nothing would disturb them," laughed Lindsay,
"but I thought it would be wiser not. How long must we leave them to go
to sleep?"
"About half an hour, I should think. Let us get up as soon as we hear
the clock in the picture gallery striking nine."
The twilight lasted long, so it was still quite possible to distinguish
objects as two nightgowned, barefooted figures stole gently across the
landing. Fortunately everything was perfectly quiet in the upper
portion of the house. The younger girls were in bed, and the elder ones
were with the teachers downstairs.
"We must be sure to work the right strings," breathed Lindsay. "Have you
got yours? This was mine, with a knot at the end."
She gave a smart pull, and the bobbin rattled loudly inside the box.
They could hear it plainly, even through the closed door.
"What is that?"
The question came in an anxious and wideawake tone from within the room.
"I don't know. Oh, there it is again!"
The voice this time was Effie's.
"It sounds as if it were under the bed!"
"Oh, surely it's not a rat!"
"Now for it!" whispered Cicely, pulling the second string.
The result was all they could have desired. A series of yells proceeded
from the four-post bed, sufficient not only to rouse the occupants of
the other rooms on the landing, but to bring Miss Frazer hurrying up
from the library. Lindsay and Cicely dropped their strings and fled, not
a second too soon. They could hear Miss Frazer striking a match to light
the candle, and her exclamation when she discovered the cause of the
uproar.
"All the girls have turned out to see what's the matter," said Cicely.
"If you and I don't go too, they'll know who's done it."
"I think we shall have to own up, in any case," replied Lindsay.
"It was worth the scolding," she declared afterwards, when Miss Frazer
had administered a due homily on the danger of practical jokes. "I only
wish I could have seen their faces when the rat plumped on to them. They
needn't talk of screaming at nothing, and if they ever begin to tease us
about anything again--well, we'll just say 'Rats!'"