CHAPTER VI
A Midnight Scare
Miss Gibbs's plans for the enlargement of her pupils' minds ran over awide range of subjects from archaeology to ambulance. As they expressedit, she was always springing some fresh surprise upon them. Like bees,they were expected to sip mental honey from many intellectual flowers.They had dabbled in chemistry till Ardiune spilt acid down MissGibbs's dress, after which the experiments suddenly stopped. They hadcollected fruits and seed-vessels, had studied animalculae through themicroscope, and modelled fungi in plasticine. Stencilling,illuminating, painting, and marqueterie each had a brief turn, andwere superseded by raffia-plaiting and poker-work. Miss Beasleysuggested tentatively that it might be better to concentrate on asingle subject, but Miss Gibbs, who loved arguments about education,was well prepared to defend her line of action.
"There is always a danger in specialization," she replied. "You can'ttell how a girl's tastes will run till you give her an opportunity ofproving them. My theory is, let them try each separate craft, and thenchoose their own hobbies. One will take naturally to oil-painting,another may find clay or gesso her means of artistic expression. Someminds delight in pure Greek outline, while others revel in theintricacies of Celtic ornament. Again, a girl with no aesthetic sensemay be enraptured with the wonders of the microscope, and those whofind a difficulty in mastering the technical terms of botany may yetexcel in the extent of their collections of specimens. Who would haveimagined that Veronica Terry would develop an interest in geology? Ihad always considered her a remarkably dull child, but her fossilsformed the nucleus of the school museum. I have hopes at present thatone or two of my girls are developing tastes that will last them forlife."
It was one of Miss Gibbs's pet theories that not only should herpupils have the opportunity of sampling arts, handicrafts, andscientific pursuits, but that they should in every respect cultivate awide mental horizon. She was fond of suggesting emergencies to them,and asking how they would act in special circumstances.
"Imagine yourself left a widow," she had once propounded, "with threesmall children to support, and a capital of only three hundred pounds.How would you employ this sum to the best advantage, so as to providesome future means of subsistence for yourself and family?"
The opinions of the Form had been interesting, and had varied frompoultry farming to the establishment of a boarding-house or thesetting up of tea-rooms. The most original suggestion, however, wascontributed by Fauvette, and, while it outraged Miss Gibbs's sense ofpropriety, caused infinite hilarity in the Form.
"If I were left a widow," she wrote, "I should get the children intoorphanages, or persuade rich friends to adopt them. Then I would spendthe three hundred pounds in buying new clothes and staying at the besthotels, and try to get married again to somebody who could provide forme better."
Among the flights of fancy in which the Fifth Form were forced toindulge were a railway collision, a fire, a bicycle accident, anescape of gas, the swallowing of poison, the bursting of the kitchenboiler, a case of choking, and an infectious epidemic. On the wholethey rather enjoyed the fun of airing their views, and when asked topropose fresh topics had suggested such startling catastrophes as "AGerman Invasion," "A Revolution," "A Volcanic Eruption," "A Famine,"and "A Zeppelin Raid."
Rejecting the first four, Miss Gibbs had chosen the last fordiscussion, and for fully ten minutes the Form, in imagination, dweltin an atmosphere of explosives. They clutched their few valuables thatwere within reach, donned dressing-gowns and bedroom slippers, eachseized a blanket, and all descended to the cellars with the utmostdispatch of which they were capable, while bombs came crashing throughthe roof, and the walls of the house tottered to ruin.
"I shall never dare to go to sleep again!" shivered Fauvette, appalledat the mental picture presented to her.
"Are the Zepps likely to come, Miss Gibbs?" enquired Ardiune.
"Not so likely at this time of year as in winter. Still, of course,one never can tell," replied the mistress, anxious to justify theusefulness of her emergency lessons. "It is wise to know what to do.We ought all to adopt the Boy Scouts' motto--'Be Prepared'."
"And suppose we ever do hear dreadful noises in the middle of thenight?" said Raymonde, gazing with solemn, awestruck eyes at theteacher.
"Then you must make for the cellar without delay," replied Miss Gibbsemphatically.
If she could have seen Raymonde's expression, as that young ladyturned her head for a moment towards Aveline, she would have beensurprised. The serious apprehension had changed to dancing mischief.Even so well-seasoned a mistress as Miss Gibbs, however, cannot beaware of every sub-current in her Form. Human nature has its limits.
Raymonde left the class-room chuckling to herself, and at the earliestconvenient moment summoned a committee of the Mystic Seven.
"I've got the idea of my life!" she declared. "It isn't often I have areally topping notion, but this is one of those inspirations that comesometimes, one doesn't know how."
"You needn't be quite so peacocky about it!" chirruped Katherine."Other people have ideas occasionally as well as you."
"Ah! but wait till you've heard mine, and then you'll allow I've somereason to cock-a-doodle. Look here, don't you think it's extremelynice to be philanthropic?"
"Don't know," replied the others doubtfully. They distrustedRaymonde's philanthropy, and were unwilling to commit themselves.
"It's so nice to do things for others," continued their schoolmategushingly. "When somebody has been looking forward to an event, justthink of the bliss of being able to bring it to pass! One would feel asort of mixture of Santa Claus and Cinderella's Fairy Godmother!"
"Go on!" murmured the Mystics.
"Well, you see, what I mean is this. Gibbie's been taking ever such alot of trouble to teach us how to act in emergencies. She must havespent hours thinking out those problems. I sometimes feel, girls, thatwe do not sufficiently appreciate our teachers!"
The grimaces of the six were eloquent.
"Get to the point!" suggested Ardiune.
"I'm getting! Well, you know, we're all very grateful to Gibbie, andinterested in the problems, and happy in our work, and all the rest ofit. I think we ought to do something to make a little return to herfor her kindness. Now it must be very disappointing to coach us up forthese emergencies, and never have an opportunity of putting what we'vebeen taught into practice. If we could show her that her lessons havesunk in, and that we could face a sudden catastrophe with calm courageand prompt presence of mind, then she'd feel her labour had not beenin vain. She really deserves it!"
"We can't burst the kitchen boiler, or set the cook on fire to obligeher!" objected Valentine.
"Certainly not; but there are other emergencies. With properpreparation we might engineer a very neat little Zepp raid, quitesufficient to put every theory into practice."
Smiles illuminated the faces of the committee. They began to seedaylight. Raymonde re-tied her hair ribbon, and continued:
"On that afternoon when I went exploring, I discovered a way on to theroof exactly over Gibbie's bedroom. Now what you've got to do for thenext few days is to collect old tins. There ought to be plenty of themabout. You can leave the rest to me!"
The result of Raymonde's suggestion was an extraordinary activity onthe part of her friends in the acquisition of any species of discardedcan. They begged empty cocoa tins from the cook, and even climbed overthe wall on to the rubbish heap to rescue specimens, rusty orotherwise, that lay there unnoticed and unappropriated. Each can wasfurnished with four or five large pebbles inside, and was secured atthe end with brown paper if the original lid was lost. They werepacked in osier-plaited baskets, and hidden away in a corner of thebarn until they were wanted.
Raymonde regarded her preparations with much satisfaction.
"It ought to be enough to wake the dead!" she said, rattling one ofthe tins in demonstration.
As has been before explained, the members of the Fourth and FifthForms--nineteen girls
in all--slept in the huge chamber which occupiedan entire wing of the house, and had been the dormitory of the Frenchnuns a hundred years ago. The small room at the end, formerly the cellof the Mother Superior, was now the bower of Miss Gibbs. It had twodoors, one leading into the passage and another into the dormitory, sothat she could keep an eye upon the nineteen inmates. It was a veryunnecessary arrangement to have her so near, the girls considered, forshe would come popping in immediately if they made a noise. Theyenvied the Sixth, who slept in little bedrooms along the corridor, andwished Miss Gibbs had possessed a lesser sense of duty and a greaterappreciation of luxury, so that she might have chosen a morecomfortable and spacious bedroom elsewhere.
When sufficient tin-can ammunition had been prepared, Raymonde carriedthe baskets upstairs by stealth, and hid them in the lumber cupboardwhich she had discovered on the day she had explored the roof. Theywere not likely to be disturbed here, for probably no one save herselfknew of the existence of the tiny room. She crept through the smalldoor on to the tiles, and verified her position by cautious tapping,to which Morvyth, stationed in the passage below with a hockey stick,replied. Having thus taken her exact bearings, she felt that the wholeplot was in good training.
"We must choose a moonlight night, or I shouldn't be able to see myway over the roof," she informed the committee. "Of course Zepps don'tgenerally come when there's a moon, but there'll be no time foranybody to think of that. You know your part of the business?"
"Ra--ther!"
The household at the Grange retired early to rest. Miss Gibbs, who wasan ardent advocate of daylight saving, and always rose at six, wasgenerally in bed by eleven, on the theory that it is impossible toburn a candle at both ends. As a rule, every occupant of the longdormitory was wrapt in slumber before that hour, and the mistress,taking a last peep at the rows of small beds, would hear nothing butpeaceful breathing. On one particular evening, however, when she madeher usual survey of the room, seven of the apparent sleepers werefoxing. They lay with closed eyes and composed faces, but inwardlythey were particularly lively. Each one had solemnly passed her wordto keep awake, and considered herself on sentry duty. To pass the timethey had brought acid drops to bed with them, and sucked them slowly,so as to make them last as long as possible. They dared not talk, forfear of disturbing the others, though the temptation was great.Occasionally a stealthy hand would reach over to the next bed, to makesure of its occupant's vigilance, and the squeeze would be passed ondown the row of seven.
When the old grandfather clock on the stairs chimed midnight, Raymondeand Morvyth rose quietly, and donned dressing-gowns and bedroomslippers, then, with a final signal to their fellow mystics, creptcautiously out of the room. The passage was very dark, but Morvyth hadbrought her electric torch, and flashed a ray of light in front ofthem. It felt decidedly spooky, and they were thankful to be together.They went up the stairs towards the servants' quarters, and along anupper landing. By the aid of the torch it was not difficult to findthe secret door among the panelling. The little lumber-room lookedhorribly dark; it needed an effort of will to enter among its dimshadows. A rat was gnawing in the corner, and scurried away with noiseenough for a lion. Raymonde peeped through the small door on to theroof. Outside, the moon was shining brilliantly. She could see eachseparate tile as clearly as by daylight. The sight restored hercourage.
"I'll creep through, and then you hand me the baskets," she whispered."I know just the place to drop the tins. They'll go plump, and rolldown the whole length of the gable."
"Right-o, old sport!" returned Morvyth.
Miss Gibbs lay in her bedroom, sleeping the sleep of the just. Themoonlight, flooding through her hygienically wide-open window,revealed the rows of photographs on her chimney-piece, the gilt-edgedvolumes on her book-shelf, and the little emergency medicine cupboardon the wall. Was she dreaming of the lesson she meant to giveto-morrow, or of the officer whose portrait, in the silver frame,occupied the post of honour in her picture gallery? Who could tell?Unsympathetic school-girls do not know all the secrets of a teacher'slife. Perhaps Miss Gibbs, like the familiar chestnut burr, hid asilver lining under her prickly exterior. She slept so peacefully--itwas a shame to disturb her. Schoolgirls are ruthless beings at best.
Bang! Rattle! Bang! Bump! She woke with a start. Projectiles werefalling upon the roof with terrific force. At the same moment shrieksissued from the dormitory, and a wild shout of "Zepps!" Miss Gibbs'spresence of mind did not desert her. It took her exactly three secondsto put on her dressing-gown and bedroom slippers, two more to sweepher watch, purse, and a little packet of treasures (placed nightly inreadiness) into the ample pocket of her wrapper, and the next instantshe was flashing her torchlight in the dormitory.
The girls, most of them very scared, were turning out of bed; Aveline,Fauvette, Valentine, Ardiune, and Katherine were already garbed, andencouraging the others. Before a minute and a half had elapsed, thewhole party was on its way to the cellar, having rung the great bellon the stairs to warn the rest of the household.
Raymonde and Morvyth, having expended the ammunition, hurrieddownstairs, and slipped in among their Form mates unobserved. Theschool spent an agitated hour in the cellar, sitting on blanketsclutched from their beds. As all appeared quiet, and no moremysterious thumps resounded on the roof, Miss Beasley, who hadreconnoitred, declared it safe to return to roost, and ordered hertwenty-six pupils upstairs again. Possibly she had her suspicions, forvery early next morning she went out to investigate the extent of thedamage, and discovered a selection of the projectiles lying on thelawn. The result was a solemn harangue to the whole school.
"I don't know who has played this contemptible practical joke," sheproclaimed witheringly. "It may seem humorous to small minds, but tome it is pitiable. There were no doubt instigators amongst you, andfor the sake of those ringleaders I shall punish you all. You willspend Wednesday afternoon in your class-rooms copying out 'Lycidas,'instead of taking our projected trip on the river. It is hard topunish the innocent with the guilty, but those responsible for thisoccurrence are probably known to their companions, who will, I hope,visit their displeasure upon them, and cause them to regret that theyhave deprived the school of a holiday."
Miss Beasley's method of punishment, though voted abominably unfair bythe majority, was certainly efficacious. Such grave suspicion fell onthe Mystic Seven that the indignant monitresses took the matter inhand, and insisted on investigating the entire business. Popularopinion raged hotly against the culprits, for the promised expeditionto the river had been regarded as the treat of the term.
"I believe it's all your fault, Raymonde Armitage!" scolded LindaMottram. "If there's any mischief about, one may be sure you're at thebottom of it. We don't want your monkey tricks here. They're on thelevel of a kindergarten for little boys. If anything more of this sorthappens, you may expect to find yourself jolly well boycotted. Ishan't speak to you, in any case, for a week, and I hope none of theother monitresses will. You deserve sending to Coventry byeverybody."
"How hard it is to be public-spirited!" mourned Raymonde to her chumsafterwards. "I'm sure I gave everybody a treat, and especially Gibbie.I'm a martyr to the cause of emergencies. For goodness' sake don't anyof you drink poison by mistake, or they'll lay the blame on me andsend me to the gallows!"