CHAPTER XXV

  Charades

  Hodson was waiting in the road when they came out. Miss Norton spoke toher kindly.

  "We need not trouble you to take the young ladies back to Brackenfield,they can return with me across the moor," she said. "I dare say you areanxious to get home to The Tamarisks."

  "Yes, thank you, m'm, it's got rather late," answered Hodson gratefully,setting off at once along the Whitecliffe Road.

  The girls and Miss Norton took a short cut across the moor. They walkedon for a while in silence. Then the mistress said:

  "I didn't know it was you two who have been so kind to Eric. I shouldlike to explain about him, and then you'll understand. My eldest brothermarried very much beneath him. He died when Eric was a year old, and hiswife married again--a man in her own station, who is now keeping the'Royal George'. I can't bear to think of Eric being brought up in suchsurroundings, but I have no power to take him away; his mother andstep-father claim him. I had planned that when he is a little older Iwould try to persuade them to let me send him to a good preparatoryschool, but now"--her voice broke--"it is not a question of education,but whether he will grow up at all. I am writing for a specialist tocome and see him next week. I won't give up hope. He's the only boy leftin our family. Both my other brothers were killed at the beginning ofthe war." She paused for a moment, and then went on. "I'm sure you'llunderstand that I did not want anybody at Brackenfield to know that myrelations live at a village inn. I have not spoken of it to Mrs.Morrison. May I ask you both to keep my secret and not to mention thematter at school?"

  "We won't tell a soul, Miss Norton," the girls assured her.

  "Thank you both for your kindness to Eric," continued the housemistress. "You have made his little life very bright lately. I needhardly tell you how dear he is to me."

  "He's the most perfect darling we've ever met," said Dona.

  After that they walked on again without speaking. All three were busywith their own thoughts. Marjorie's brain was in a whirl. She was tryingto readjust her mental attitude. Miss Norton! Miss Norton, whom she hadmistrusted and suspected as a spy, was Eric's idolized aunt, and hadgone to the Royal George on no treacherous errand, but to tell fairytales to an invalid child! When the cold scholastic manner was droppedshe had caught a glimpse of a beautiful and tender side of themistress's nature. She would never forget Miss Norton's face as sheheld the little fellow in her arms and kissed him good-bye.

  "I'm afraid I've utterly misjudged her!" decided Marjorie. "I see nowwhy she was so upset about that lantern slide I took. It was becauseEric was in it. It had nothing to do with the German prisoners. Afterall, anybody can receive foreign letters if they've relations abroad,and perhaps she's going to stay with friends in the Isle of Wight. Asfor those Belgians in the hotel, perhaps they were genuine ones. We hadBelgian guests ourselves at the beginning of the war, and couldn'tunderstand a word of the Flemish they talked."

  Marjorie ran upstairs to her dormitory as soon as she reached St.Elgiva's, and found Chrissie waiting for her there.

  "Where's the uniform?" demanded her chum imperatively.

  "The uniform? I didn't get it after all," replied Marjorie a littlevaguely. The unexpected episode of Eric and Miss Norton had temporarilydriven the former matter from her mind.

  "You--didn't--get it?"

  Chrissie said the words very slowly.

  "No. I'm sorry, but it couldn't be helped. Elaine was there--and Donawouldn't let me--so----"

  "You sneak!" blazed Chrissie passionately. "You promised! You promisedfaithfully! And this is how you treat me! Oh, I hate you! I hate you!What shall I do? Can't you go back for it? send for it? I tell you, Imust have it!"

  "How can I go back for it or send for it?" retorted Marjorie, amazed atsuch an outburst on the part of her chum. "I'm sorry; but, after all, itwould have been miles too big for you, and you'll really do the partquite as well in my mackintosh, with Irene's broad leather belt. There'sa piece of brown calico we can cut into strips and make puttees for you.You'll look very nice, I'm sure."

  Chrissie hardly seemed to be listening. She was sitting on her bedrocking herself to and fro in the greatest emotion. When Marjorie laid ahand on her arm she flung her off passionately. She had never exhibitedsuch temper before, and Marjorie was frankly surprised. The occasion didnot seem to justify it. The disappointment about the costume could notsurely be so very keen. None of the girls had meant to dress up to anygreat extent for the charades.

  "Chrissie, don't be an idiot!"

  There was no answer.

  "What are you making such a hullabaloo about? You're the limit thisevening. Do, for goodness' sake, brace up!"

  "Let me alone!" snapped Chrissie. "You called yourself my friend, andyou wouldn't do what I asked you. I've done with you now. Don't speak tome again."

  "Bow-wow! Pitch it a little stronger. I'll go away till you've got overyour tantrums. It's what used to be called katawampus when I was small,and they generally spanked me for it."

  "Can't you go?" thundered Chrissie.

  Thoroughly angry with her chum, Marjorie went. She wondered how theywere going to act a love scene together that evening. The soft nothingsthey had rehearsed would seem very hollow after the mutual reproachesthey had just exchanged.

  Chrissie was not in her usual place at supper-time.

  "Sulking!" thought Marjorie. "I suppose she doesn't want to sit next tome. Well, she's punishing herself far more than me, silly girl! She mustbe dreadfully hungry, unless she's shamming a headache, and gettingNurse to give her bread and milk in the ambulance room. Perhaps she'sbusy with her costume. She never liked the idea of using my mackintoshfor a uniform. I expect she's thought of something else."

  Marjorie's anger, always hot while it lasted, but short-lived, wasbeginning to cool down. When supper was over she ran to look for herchum, but could not find her anywhere. There was no time for a longsearch, as the charades were to begin almost at once, and the St.Elgiva's girls were already preparing the stage for the first scene.Marjorie was seized upon by Patricia and borne off to arrange screensand furniture.

  Punctual to a moment, the guests from the other hostels arrived and tooktheir seats as audience. The performers, in the little room behind theplatform, were breathlessly scuttling into their costumes, and alltalking at once.

  "Where's my hat?"

  SHE STARED AT IT IN CONSTERNATION]

  "Do button this at the back for me, please!"

  "I can't find my boots!"

  "Oh, bother, this skirt has no hooks!"

  "Who's got the safety pins?"

  "Be careful, you'll tear that lace!"

  "I can't get into these shoes, they're too small!"

  "I've grown out of this skirt since last theatricals."

  "It's miles too short!"

  "Has anybody seen my belt?"

  Each one was so occupied in finishing her own hasty toilet that shecould not give much thought to the others, and it was only when all wereready that Patricia asked:

  "Where's Chrissie?"

  The girls looked round in consternation. She was certainly not in thedressing-room. Betty ran on to the platform, drew aside the curtain alittle, and, beckoning Annie Turner from among the audience, sent herand six other Intermediates in search of the missing performer. Theyreturned in a few minutes to say that they could not find her. Marjorie,meantime, had explained the cause of the quarrel.

  "It's sickening!" raged Betty. "For her to go and spoil the whole thing,just out of temper! I'd like to shake her!"

  "Everybody's waiting for us to begin!" fluttered Rose.

  "We won't wait!" declared Patricia. "Let us take the second charadefirst, Chrissie doesn't come on in that; and, Betty, you go and askAnnie to take Chrissie's place. She doesn't act badly, and there'd betime to tell her what to do. She must fetch a mackintosh. Here's mybroad belt and a soft felt hat. She can belong to an Australianregiment."

  Annie, summoned hastily behind the scenes, rose magnific
ently to theoccasion. Coached by Betty and Marjorie, she grasped the outline of thepart she must play with immediate comprehension. She donned themackintosh, buckled the belt over her shoulder, cocked the soft hat overone eye, practised a military stride and an affectionate embrace, anddeclared herself ready for action. She was only just in time. Theaudience was already applauding the end of the first charade. Theperformers came trooping back, flushed and excited, and much relieved tofind Annie so well prepared.

  "You mascot! You've saved our reputation!" exulted Patricia.

  "I'm never going to speak to Chrissie Lang again!" declared Betty.

  "It's abominable of her to let us down like this!" agreed Roseindignantly.

  Charade No. 2 went off with flying colours. Annie really played upmagnificently. None of the girls had known before that she could act sowell. She threw such fervour into her love-making that Mrs. Morrison,who was among the spectators, gave a warning cough, whereupon thegallant officer released his lady from his dramatic embrace, and,falling gracefully on one knee, bestowed a theatrical kiss upon herhand. The clapping from the girl portion of the audience was immense.

  "But where is Chrissie Lang?" asked everybody when the performance wasover.

  Nobody knew. Since Marjorie had parted from her in the dormitory she hadnot been seen. Neither teachers, girls, nurses, nor servants could giveany report of her. She simply seemed to have disappeared. Mrs. Morrisonquestioned everyone likely to know of her movements, but obtained nosatisfaction. Her cubicle in No. 9 Dormitory was unoccupied that night.At breakfast next morning the sole topic of conversation was: "What hasbecome of Chrissie Lang?"

  "Mrs. Morrison thinks she must have run away, and she's telephoning tothe police," Winifrede told Marjorie in confidence, when the latter,anxious to unburden herself, sought the head girl's study. "I can't seethat it's your fault in any way. Chrissie was absurd to show suchtemper, and it certainly was no reason for going off. I'm afraid theremust be something else at the bottom of it all."

  "But what?"

  "Ah, that's just the question!"

  Marjorie was very much upset and disturbed. She could scarcely keep herattention on her classes that morning. "Where has Chrissie gone, andwhy?" she kept asking herself. At dinner-time there was still no news ofthe truant. It was rumoured that Mrs. Morrison had telegraphed to Mrs.Lang, and had received no reply. The Principal looked anxious andworried. She felt responsible for the safety of her missing pupil.

  Early in the afternoon, Marjorie, wishing to be alone, took a strolldown the dingle. It was a favourite haunt of Chrissie's, who had oftensat reading beside the little brook. Marjorie walked to the very stonethat had been her usual seat. The sharpenings of a lead pencil werestill there, and lying at the edge of the water was a crumpled-up pieceof paper. Marjorie picked it up and smoothed it out. It was inChrissie's writing, and contained a list of details in connection withtanks and guns, also particulars of the Redferne munition works and theBelgian colony there, and several other pieces of information inconnection with the war. She stared at it in consternation. A suddenlight began to break in upon her mind.

  "Good heavens! Was it Chrissie after all who was the spy?" she choked.

  The idea seemed too horrible. It was she herself who had so readilyanswered all her chum's questions in regard to these things. In doingso, had she not been betraying her own country? Once the clue was given,all sorts of suspicious circumstances came rushing into her mind. Shewondered it had never struck her before to doubt her friend'spatriotism. Nearly distracted with the dreadful discovery, she hurriedaway to find Winifrede, and, showing her the paper, poured out herstory. Winifrede listened aghast.

  "I'm afraid it's only too true, Marjorie," she said. "I've been talkingto Mrs. Morrison, and all sorts of queer things have come out aboutChrissie. It seems that a prisoner has escaped last night from theGerman camp, and they think it must have been her brother, and that shehelped him. Mrs. Morrison has had a long talk with a detective, and hesaid they telegraphed to Millgrove, where Chrissie's mother lives, andthe police there found the house shut up, and discovered that she is aGerman, and that her true name is Lange, not Lang. The detective saidthey have had Brackenfield under observation lately, for they suspectedthat somebody was heliographing messages with a mirror to the Germancamp. And who put that bicycle lamp in the Observatory window lastspring? We have certainly had a spy in our midst. We ought to take thispaper at once to Mrs. Morrison, and you must tell her all you know."

  Marjorie not only had a long talk with the Principal, but was alsoforced to undergo an examination by the detective, who asked her astring of questions, until he had extorted every possible detail thatshe could remember.

  "There's not a shadow of a doubt," was his verdict. "There are plenty ofthese spies about the country. It's our business to look after them.Pity she got away so neatly. I'm afraid she and her precious brothermust have had a boat in waiting for them. It's abominable the amount ofcollusion there is with the enemy. They'd accomplices in Whitecliffe, nodoubt, if we could only get on the track of them."

  "I wish you had mentioned all this to me sooner, Marjorie," said Mrs.Morrison.

  "I never suspected anything," returned Marjorie, bursting into tears.

  The poor child was thoroughly unnerved by her interview with thedetective, and the Principal's reproach seemed to put the finishingtouch to the whole affair. In Winifrede's study afterwards she sobbedtill her eyes were red slits.

  "Never mind," comforted Winifrede. "After all, things might have beenworse. Be thankful you didn't lend her your brother's uniform. It's asclear as daylight she didn't want it for charades. It would be easy fora German prisoner to escape disguised as a British officer. It mighthave got your brother into most serious trouble."

  "It was Dona who wouldn't let me take it," choked Marjorie. "She said atthe time that she didn't trust Chrissie. I've been a blind idiot allalong!"

  "We were none of us clever enough to find her out."

  It was just about a week after this that a letter arrived atBrackenfield, addressed to Marjorie in Chrissie's handwriting. It bore aDutch stamp and postmark, and had been opened by the censor. Mrs.Morrison perused it first in private, then, calling Marjorie to thestudy, handed it to her to read. It bore no address or date, and ranthus:--

  "MY DEAR MARJORIE,

  "This letter is to say a last good-bye to you, for you will never hear from me or of me again. By now you will have found out all. Believe me that what I did was not by my own wish. I hated and loathed it all the time, but I was forced by others to do it. I cannot tell you how wretched I was, and how I envied you, who had no dreadful secret to keep. We are going back to our own people" (here a portion of the letter was blackened by the censor). "It was all for his sake" (again a portion was erased). "I want to tell you, Marjorie, how I have loved you. You have been the one bright spot in my life, and I can never forget your kindness. I have your portrait inside my locket, and I shall wear it always, and have it buried with me in my coffin. Try to think of me as if I were already dead, and forgive me if you can.

  "From your still loving friend, "CHRISSIE."

  Marjorie put down the letter with a shaking hand.

  "Is it right to forgive the enemies of our country?" she asked Mrs.Morrison.

  "When they are dead," replied the Principal.

  Marjorie went out slowly from the study, and stood thinking for amoment. Then, going upstairs to her cubicle, she looked in her treasurebox, and found the little gold locket containing the portrait of herone-time friend. It had been a birthday present from Chrissie. Sherefrained from opening it, but, taking it down to the dingle, she flungit into the deepest pool in the brook. She walked back up the field witha feeling as though she had attended a funeral.

  Dona met her in the quadrangle.

  "I've just seen Miss Norton," she confided. "The specialist came to lookat Eric yesterday, and he gives quite good hopes for him. He's to gointo
a children's hospital under a very clever doctor, and be properlylooked after and dieted. His own mother lets him eat anything. Norty'ssimply beaming. She's to take him herself next week in a motorambulance."

  Marjorie heaved a great sigh of relief. The world seemed suddenly tohave brightened. Bygones must remain bygones. She had been imprudent,indeed, in supplying information, but it had been done in all innocence,and though she might blame her own folly, she could not condemn her actas unpatriotic.

  "There's good news from the front, too," continued Dona. "Another ridgetaken, and a village. Winifrede showed me the newspaper. LieutenantPreston's name is mentioned for conspicuous bravery. It's really quitean important victory on our part. We've driven the Huns back a goodpiece. I feel I just want to shout 'Hurrah!' and I'm going to!--

  "Hurrah!"

  "Hurrah! God save the King!" echoed Marjorie.

  By Angela Brazil

  My Own Schooldays.

  Ruth of St. Ronan's. Joan's Best Chum. Captain Peggie. Schoolgirl Kitty. The School in the South. Monitress Merle. Loyal to the School. A Fortunate Term. A Popular Schoolgirl. The Princess of the School. A Harum-Scarum Schoolgirl. The Head Girl at the Gables. A Patriotic Schoolgirl. For the School Colours. The Madcap of the School. The Luckiest Girl in the School. The Jolliest Term on Record. The Girls of St. Cyprian's. The Youngest Girl in the Fifth. The New Girl at St. Chad's. For the Sake of the School. The School by the Sea. The Leader of the Lower School. A Pair of Schoolgirls. A Fourth Form Friendship. The Manor House School. The Nicest Girl in the School. The Third Form at Miss Kaye's. The Fortunes of Philippa.

  _Printed in Great Britain by Blackie & Son, Ltd. Glasgow_

  +---------------------------------------------------------------+ |Transcriber's Note: | | | |Unusual words used in direct speech, and the following words | |have been left as they appear in the original book: caligraphy,| |hinnied, musn't, schemeing and seccotining. The phrase "turned | |up up to time" has also been retained. | | | |The frontispiece illustration was not available for inclusion | |in this ebook. | +---------------------------------------------------------------+

 
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net

Share this book with friends