Part 26 (1/2)

”Oh! had she killed him?”

But at this most sensational point of the narrative Miss Andrews came into the dormitory, scolded the girls for being slow in getting to bed, and absolutely forbade further conversation. The penalties for breaking silence rule were heavy, and might involve suspension of tennis on the following day, so Beatrix' story, like a magazine serial, must perforce be left ”to be continued in our next”.

Rose could not help thinking about it as she lay in bed. She wondered if groans came from the pack, and what the girl did next--whether she ran to a neighbour's for help, or called the dog, or locked the parlour door, or went out of her mind with terror. ”It would have driven me stark staring mad!” she shuddered. She felt too nervous to go to sleep.

All the tales she had ever heard or read about murders and burglaries rushed to her remembrance with startling vividness.

The night was very hot, and the window, of course, was wide open. How easy it would be for somebody to creep up the ivy, and climb across the sill! The more she thought about it, the more terrified she grew. For a couple of hours she tossed restlessly, lying perfectly still every now and then, so as to listen intently. Were those stealthy footsteps in the pa.s.sage? Was that the sound of a file on the window below? How could Beatrix, Dona, and Prissie sleep so peacefully? The whole house was absolutely quiet; there was no moon, so it was perfectly dark. Again Rose longed for a night-light. It would be rea.s.suring, at least, to be able to see for herself that the room held no intruder. What--oh! what was that? Through the dead silence came a sound like a pistol-shot. She sat up in bed, trembling in every limb. The noise had wakened the other girls. Again it rang through the quiet, so near that they were convinced it must be in the room. Dona was whimpering with terror, Prissie buried her head in the bedclothes; Beatrix, more courageous than the rest, stretched out her hand for the matches that lay on a small table near her bed, and lighted a candle. The girls looked fearfully round, fully expecting to see a masked figure covering them with a revolver. There was n.o.body at all. They stared into one another's panic-stricken faces.

A third time, close at hand, came the ringing report.

”It's in the cupboard!” quavered Rose.

At the end of the dormitory two steps led to a small store-room where Mrs. Franklin kept spare blankets, curtains, and a miscellaneous a.s.sortment of articles. The door was always locked, and the girls had never even seen inside. It had often excited their curiosity: to-night it was a veritable Bluebeard's chamber. They remembered that a big parcel had been delivered that day by the carrier. Had Mrs. Franklin stored it in the cupboard? Could it--oh, horrible idea!--be a repet.i.tion of the pedlar's pack? Very white and trembling, Beatrix got out of bed, and, candle in hand, crossed the room. From under the cupboard door, down the white-painted steps, ran a stream of something dark and red.

The shriek which she uttered was followed by piercing screams from her companions. That a tragedy was being enacted in the store-room they had not a shadow of doubt. At any moment they expected the door to open and the murderer to show himself. With an instinct of self-preservation they fled from the dormitory, and ran along the pa.s.sage shouting for help.

Instantly the house was aroused. Alarmed faces peeped from other dormitories, timorous voices asked what was the matter. Several girls began to weep hysterically. Mrs. Franklin, armed with a poker, came hurrying up, followed closely by Miss Andrews, grasping a hockey stick.

Taking the candle from Beatrix, the Princ.i.p.al proceeded to No. 7, the girls marvelling at her courage.

”There's blood oozing out of the cupboard!” Prissie and Dona a.s.sured the audience in the pa.s.sage.

”What nonsense! Nothing of the sort!” declared Mrs. Franklin's firm, matter-of-fact voice, as after a moment of inspection she emerged from the dormitory. ”What has really happened is this. I had left half a dozen bottles of elder syrup there; the very hot weather has no doubt caused them to ferment, and I suppose they have popped their corks. I'll fetch the key. Yvonne and Novie, stop crying this instant! There's nothing whatever to be frightened about!”

Mrs. Franklin's supposition proved to be correct. When the cupboard was unlocked, three corkless bottles and a sticky pool of elder syrup were revealed. Miss Andrews wiped up the mess with a towel, and carried the bottles downstairs, removing also the three which were intact, in case of further accidents. The general alarm had changed to mirth. In their revulsion of feeling the girls laughed uproariously at their scare. The elder syrup was used in winter-time to doctor colds, and they were rather fond of it. It had never played such a gruesome prank before.

”It's a good thing we didn't ring the school bell again, and send for Mr. White,” said Mrs. Franklin. ”We should have looked extremely foolish if he and half the village had arrived.”

”But how can you tell whether it's a real scare or a false one?”

objected Dona, who felt that there was ample excuse for their alarm.

The Princ.i.p.al, however, was not disposed to argue that point, and packed the girls back to their rooms. In half an hour, even Rose Randall was sleeping the sleep of the just.

CHAPTER XVII

The Wis.h.i.+ng Well

Mr. Ledbury, feeling rather doubtful whether Mr. Hawkins's tuition had been up to the required standard, had decided to send Cedric to receive some special coaching before going in for his naval examination. The boy departed to London in high spirits, leaving his sister visibly depressed at his absence. Mrs. Ledbury had lately been far more sympathetic with Githa, and noticing that the girl seemed to be moping, she suggested inviting a school-mate to spend Friday to Monday with her. Her aunt had never before made such an amazing proposition. Much as Githa would have liked to entertain an occasional visitor, she had not dared to ask to be allowed to do so. She looked so utterly delighted that Mrs. Ledbury, who generally saw her most undemonstrative side, was frankly astonished.

”It's good for you to make friends of your own age,” she remarked. ”Tell me which girl you would like to have, and I will write a note to Mrs.

Franklin.”

Githa's choice promptly fell on Gwethyn. The invitation was sent, and Mrs. Franklin, after an interview in the study, gave majestic permission for its acceptance. The proposed visit caused much amazement in the school. Mr. and Mrs. Ledbury had been looked upon rather as bogeys by the girls. Githa had been so guarded in her information about her home life that it was always presumed she was unhappy. How she spent her spare hours she had never divulged. Her doings, away from Aireyholme, had always been more or less of a mystery.

”I hope you'll have a tolerable time!” said Gwethyn's friends to her in private, their tone clearly expressing antic.i.p.ation of the contrary. ”I suppose Mrs. Ledbury's most frightfully strict. You'll have to be 'prunes and prism' personified.”

”I'll worry through somehow without shocking her more than I can help,”

returned Gwethyn. ”It's ever so decent of her to ask me.”