For the School Colours

  CHAPTER XX

  Pamela's Secret

  In her love-making with the Lavender Lady Avelyn had, truth to tell,rather neglected Pamela. Their friendship had always been more or lessof a spasmodic character. They often met on the road on Monday mornings,and travelled in the same compartment of the train, and they wouldreturn from Harlingden together on Friday afternoons. Generally theytalked the ordinary schoolgirl chatter about Silverside doings. Pamelararely mentioned her own concerns. Very occasionally she would make somereference to past adventures in America, but about her present home shewas extremely reserved. She seemed to shut up and freeze at once at theslightest allusion to Moss Cottage.

  Though she had accepted several invitations to Walden, she had neverasked Avelyn to tea for a return visit. There was an air of mysteryabout her that increased rather than diminished with their furtheracquaintance. To Avelyn she always seemed like a disinherited princess.She was sure that Pamela brooded over the fact that the Lyngates estateshould have been hers. Her uncle's name was never mentioned betweenthem.

  Since the evening when he had tried to cut down the barrier over thebrook at Walden, the Watsons had seen little of Mr. Hockheimer. He hadnot again attempted to interfere with their property. He seemed to spenda good deal of his time in London, but made flying visits every week tothe Hall. People in the neighbourhood gave him the cold shoulder. Thoughhe was generous in subscribing to local charities, he was certainly notpopular. The general feeling was one of mistrust. Nothing certain hadever been brought against him, but the fact of his German nationalityremained. It was whispered that but for influence in high quarters hewould have been interned.

  Whether Mr. Hockheimer was or was not aware of the rumours that werebeing circulated in his disfavour it was impossible to tell. He nevercame to church, seldom appeared in the village. He was more strict thanever against trespassing in his woods, though other landlords in thedistrict had been lax in that respect since the beginning of the war.The Watsons disliked him so much that they avoided him wheneverpossible; if they saw him walking along the village street they woulddive down a side lane or run up into the churchyard. They thoroughlypitied Pamela for being dependent upon him.

  Since the memorable morning when she had climbed over the palings intothe garden, and had hidden inside the stable, Avelyn had never visitedMoss Cottage. She was sure that she had then almost surprised somesecret. Pamela, indeed, had been on the very verge of telling her. Herfriend's confidential mood had passed, however, and a wall of reservehad taken its place.

  One Saturday Avelyn, taking out her home work, made the horriblediscovery that she had left her history in her locker at school. To goto Miss Thompson's class with an unprepared lesson meant trouble. Theonly way out of the difficulty was to walk over and borrow from Pamela,who, though in a lower form, used the same textbook for history.

  This time she did not venture to climb over the palings, but knocked atthe door in orthodox fashion. It was opened by Pamela herself, whobeamed a welcome.

  "Come in! I'm all alone. Mother's gone to the station. I was justgetting horribly tired of being by myself. It's perfectly lovely to seeyou! My history? Yes, you shall have it, certainly. I've learnt mylesson. But come in and have a chat. I was sitting in the garden. Shallwe go out there?"

  Avelyn much preferred the garden to the rather dark little sitting-room.The girls went to a shady corner under a tree, where Pamela had spread arug and cushions. They settled themselves down leisurely and began totalk.

  "What's this you've got here?" asked Avelyn presently, taking up aPrayer Book that was lying on the rug, opened at the last page. "Areyou studying the Table of Articles? You surely don't have to learn thatin your Scripture lesson? We did the 'Book of Common Prayer' last term,but we didn't take the Articles."

  "I'm not looking at those," said Pamela. "I'm looking at the Table ofKindred and Affinity. I want to find out whom a man may marry and whomhe mayn't. He mustn't marry his wife's daughter's daughter, or hisbrother's son's wife, or his mother's brother's wife, but may he marryhis deceased wife's deceased brother's wife?"

  "Goodness, child, I'm sure I don't know! Why do you ask?"

  Pamela shut the Prayer Book with a bang.

  "It's Uncle!" she said vehemently. "He's behaving in such anextraordinary way! Oh, Ave! Do you know, I believe he's trying to makeup to Mother! Don't look so incredulous! I mean it! I must tellsomebody, or I shall burst! I've kept it all in long enough. Too long!Ave, did the boys ever tell you about that letter they found inside theLatin dictionary? I can see by your face that they did. Well, I broughtit home and laid it on the table, and, before Mother had time to look atit, it disappeared. Uncle had been here, and I _know_ he took it! Hemust certainly have done so."

  "He did! I can tell you that," returned Avelyn, and she confided to herfriend what her brothers had witnessed in the wood, how Mr. Hockheimerhad been on the point of burning the paper when Spring-heeled Jack hadappeared and run away with it. Pamela listened with intense eagerness.

  "That explains so much!" she gasped. "I don't know what was in theletter, but I imagine it may have been my grandfather's will. If it was,and he left the estate to Daddy, no wonder Uncle Fritz tried to burn it.He didn't quite succeed, and this bogy-spectre-highwayman, or whateverhe is, has scooted off with it. Uncle knows it's still in existence, andthat any day it might be produced, and he might be turned out of theHall. He's trying to guard against that, and he's playing a very deepgame. He thinks that if he were to marry Mother, as he married poor AuntDora, he'd secure the estate to himself a second time."

  "Does your Mother like him?"

  "Not really. I believe she's frightened of him. He makes her do anythinghe tells her. You don't know how dreadfully worried I am about it. If Ihad him for a stepfather I should run away. I'd rather join the gipsiesthan live with him. Oh, if we could only get on the track of that paper!Has nothing more been heard of Spring-heeled Jack?"

  "Nothing at all since the autumn. He appeared just for a short time, andthen vanished again."

  "And no one ever knew who he was?"

  "Not a soul."

  Pamela gave a long sigh.

  "He has the secret--whatever it is. Who knows whether I'll ever find it.Ave," here Pamela lowered her voice, "I've got a secret too! I've beenlonging and yearning to tell it to you--a dozen times I've had it on thetip of my tongue, and then I've felt afraid and stopped. I kept waiting,hoping to find out more, but I can't find out by myself. I want help."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Come, and I'll show you. We have the place to ourselves to-day. Uncleis in town. I saw him going to the station this morning, so he's notlikely to burst in and interrupt us."

  Pamela rose and led the way down the garden to the stable where Avelynhad surprised her before. It was locked, but she took a key from ahiding-place under a stone, and undid the padlock. She motioned herfriend to go up the ladder, and followed her. The room above was a bareloft. It was not quite empty, however, for in the corner stood a smalltable, with an object on it that looked like the receiver of atelephone.

  "Come here!" said Pamela.

  She took up the instrument and placed it on her friend's head. It had aband which fitted across the forehead, and a receiver for each ear. Acord connected it with the wall.

  "Do you hear anything?" asked Pamela.

  "Yes, a sort of humming."

  Pamela smiled significantly, and put back the instrument on the table.

  "What is it?" breathed Avelyn, rather awed.

  "Wireless messages. Uncle spends hours here."

  "Do you mean to say this is a wireless station?"

  Pamela nodded.

  "But they're not allowed."

  "I know that perfectly well."

  "If it were found out he could be arrested."

  "He deserves to be. Sometimes I wish he were."

  "Does your mother know?"

  "No, I'm sure she doesn't. She never comes to the stable, and if she didshe wouldn't cli
mb the ladder. Sometimes Uncle is very keen about themessages. He makes me stay here, with the receiver on my head, listeningfor them, while he sits in the cottage talking to Mother, and drinkingbrandy which he brings in a flask. When I hear that humming noise I haveto go and tell him, and he flies down to the stable."

  "Can you understand the messages?"

  "No. It's something like ordinary telegraphy, I suppose, and I don'tknow the code. I wish I did."

  "I can't imagine how this wireless apparatus hasn't been discovered!"

  "It's so well hidden. The poles go right up among the boughs of thetree."

  "I don't think you ought to keep this secret any longer, Pam."

  "No more do I, but I've never dared to tell it to a soul before. Unclewould kill me if he knew I'd brought you in here to-day. What must Ido?"

  Avelyn hesitated.

  "I'd like to ask somebody. Could you come home with me this afternoon?Can you leave the house?"

  "I'd lock the door and put the key under a stone, where Mother wouldfind it if she gets back first. Ave, I'm just about desperate! I'd doanything to end the life I'm living now. There's treachery of some sortgoing on, I believe, and I'm being wound up in it without my knowledgeand against my will. My father gave his life for his country. Is hisdaughter to help to betray it? Never! Never in this world! I'd suffertorture first. Oh, I wish I were braver! Sometimes I'm a terriblecoward, and I feel so horribly afraid of Uncle Fritz. You don't know howhe frightens me. My nerves are all on edge."

  "Come home with me, dear," said Avelyn soothingly. "If you'll let me askMother, I believe she'd know what we ought to do."

  Pamela was very much upset, and seemed almost hysterical. Her handstrembled, and she wiped tell-tale drops from her eyes. She climbed downthe ladder, padlocked the stable door again, went into the house for herhat and the history book, locked the front door, hid the key in therockery, and pronounced herself ready to start.

  Avelyn was glad to have persuaded her so easily. Her own mind was in awhirl. To have found a wireless telegraphy installation in the oldstable was indeed a discovery which would very seriously implicate Mr.Hockheimer. The responsibility of the knowledge was too great to beborne only by two schoolgirls; it must be shared by some older and wiserperson.

  The friends walked silently along the road. At the corner by the oakwood they met David and Anthony. At sight of them the boys came runningforward in much excitement.

  "We've just seen Spring-heeled Jack again!" they cried.

  This was indeed a piece of news. Spring-heeled Jack, who had vanishedfrom the neighbourhood since the autumn! For the moment it even threwwireless telegraphy into the shade.

  "Where? When?" exclaimed the girls eagerly.

  "Just a minute ago. We were up the bank there after a butterfly, and hecame bounding past and jumped into the wood."

  "Which way did he go?"

  Anthony pointed a stumpy finger to indicate the direction. Pamela sether teeth.

  "I'm going after him," she announced.

  The Watsons stared at her amazed. Spring-heeled Jack had been the terrorof the village, and Pamela was not altogether conspicuous for courage.

  "I must find him! I must!" she continued. "It's the only chance ofgetting that lost paper!" And climbing over the palings she scrambledinto the wood among the bracken.

  The Watsons were not a family to desert a chum. David and Anthony wereafter her in half a second, and Avelyn followed as quickly as herfeminine skirts allowed. Her heart was beating violently. Whether theobject of their search was human or spectral he was equally a cause foralarm. They could hear sounds higher up the wood. Pamela was runningfast and so were the boys.

  There was a sudden, unearthly yell, and a dark, masked figure camebounding towards them in a series of wild leaps. Man, monkey, or bogy,it jumped with incredible speed. The boys set up a shout and dashedtowards it, but it gave an enormous leap and sprang past them. It wouldhave got clean away but for a tangled bramble bush that broke itscourse. The next moment it was sprawling among the bracken. The boysrushed upon it, and while David pinned it down Anthony tore off theblack mask. To their utter amazement it revealed the well-known featuresof their friend, Captain Harper.

  At the sight of their blank faces he burst out laughing.

  "The game's up at last!" he hinnied. "I saw it was you kids, and Icouldn't resist giving you a scare. I don't know that I meant to let youfind me out, though. If I hadn't tumbled I'd have got off. What have Ibeen masquerading like this for?" He suddenly looked grave. "That's alittle business of my own. I wanted to find out something, and I thoughtI'd raise a rumour that might keep the woods clear of ordinarytrespassers. How did I do it? Easy enough, some theatrical togs I had byme, and springs on my heels."

  "We've seen you before in this rig-out," volunteered Anthony.

  "When?"

  "When you pounced on Mr. Hockheimer and stopped him burning a letter."

  "We were there watching," echoed David.

  "Oh, have you got the paper still? It was mine!" cried Pamelabreathlessly.

  It was Captain Harper's turn to be astonished.

  "Yours! What had it to do with you?" he asked sharply.

  Pamela and Avelyn explained between them. He took a cigarette from hispocket and lighted it as he listened.

  "This is quite another development," he commented. "Part of the paperwas burnt. I couldn't understand the drift of it."

  "Have you got it still?" besought Pamela.

  "No, I gave it to my superior officer. But if it is of such importanceas you say I could get it examined on your behalf. I'll speak to myColonel about it. It's worth investigating."

  "Pam!" said Avelyn impulsively, bending her head and whispering in herfriend's ear, "do you know, I believe it would be the best thing in theworld to tell Captain Harper what you've told me this afternoon. He'dknow better even than Mother what you ought to do."

  "You tell him--I daren't," faltered Pamela.

  If Captain Harper had been astonished before, he was doubly amazed now.

  "Great Scott! It's the very thing I've been on the scent of for this sixmonths!" he ejaculated. "We guessed there was a wireless somewhere overhere, but never could locate it. And to think I owe it to you kids!Pamela, you're a true loyal little Englishwoman! I think you'll findyou'll pretty soon be rid of that precious uncle of yours."

  "What must I do about it?" asked Pamela, who was half crying.

  Captain Harper did not at once reply. He seemed cogitating. Then hisface cleared.

  "Nothing at present," he replied. "I pledge you all on your word ofhonour to mention this business to nobody. We'll leave the wirelesswhere it is, and get the messages if possible--that's our game! Pamela,could you manage to learn the Morse code if I taught you?"

  "I'd try."

  "I'll undertake you'd soon learn it. Then what you've got to do is tolisten at the receiver and report to us. I can tell you, you may beworking an uncommonly important little bit of business. Don't cry,child! The fellow is only your uncle by marriage. He's no blood relationof yours. Think of your father! You're doing your duty by your countryas every true-born Britisher ought."