CHAPTER XVII

  A Discovery

  After the delightful dissipation of a whole day's holiday, Miss Birksdemanded a period of solid work from her pupils, and deeming that shehad sufficiently satisfied their craving for excitement, took no noticeof either hints or headaches, but enforced preparation and practisingwith, as Dulcie expressed it, "a total lack of all consideration".Dulcie, never a remarkably hard worker at any season, was more thanusually prone to "slack" in summer, and it needed the combined energiesof Miss Birks, Miss Harding, and Mademoiselle to keep her up to themark. It was more than ever necessary to maintain the standard atpresent, for examination week was drawing near, and this year severalextra prizes were offered for competition. Mrs. Trevellyan had promiseda beautiful edition of Tennyson's poems for the best paper on Englishliterature, the Vicar added a handsome volume of _Pictures fromPalestine_ for the most correct answers to Scripture History, andMademoiselle herself proffered a copy of _Lettres de mon Moulin_ for themost spirited declamation of any piece of French poetry not less thantwo hundred lines in length, the quality of the accent to beparticularly taken into account. These were in addition to the usualannual rewards for mathematics, languages, English history, music,drawing, and needlecraft, so that among so many various subjects eachgirl might feel that she had at least some chance of winning success. Atthe eleventh hour the Principal announced that a prize would be givenfor general improvement.

  "That's to make slackers like you buck up, Dulcie!" declared AnniePridwell.

  "Really, I wish Miss Birks would offer a prize for pure English," saidJessie Macpherson, who happened to overhear. "The slang you VB talk isoutrageous. Your whole conversation seems made up of 'ripping' and'scrumptious' and 'spiffing' and other silly words that don't meananything. I tell you, slang's going out of fashion, even at publicschools, and you're behind the times."

  "Don't be a prig, Jessie. What else can I call Dulcie except a slacker?Am I to say she shows a languorous disinclination for close application,and advise her to exert her mental activities? It would sound like a'Catechism' from a Young Ladies' Seminary of a hundred years ago!"

  "There is one comfort in having worked badly," admitted Dulcie. "If Imake a spurt now, I shall show more 'marked improvement' than if I'dbeen jogging along steadily all the time."

  "Ah, but the tortoise won the race while the hare slept!" retortedJessie.

  In view of the forthcoming music examination, practising was performedwith double diligence, and from 6 a.m. to 8.30 p.m. the strains ofSchumann's "Arabesque", Tschaikowsky's "Chanson Triste", orRachmaninoff's "Prelude", the three test pieces, echoed prettyconstantly through the house, in varying degrees of proficiency.

  "It's a good thing nobody belonging to the school has to do thejudging," said Emily Northwood, as she stood in the hall listening tothe conflicting sounds of three pianos. "Even Miss Birks must be so sickof these particular pieces that she could hardly express a fair opinionon them. Dr. Harvey James will come fresh to the fray."

  The organist and choirmaster of the collegiate church at Wexminster,being a doctor of music, was regarded as a very suitable examiner forthe occasion, and even if his standard proved high, all at least wouldhave the same chance, for he had not visited the school before, andtherefore could regard nobody with special favour. He was a new residentin the district, and Miss Birks hoped next term to arrange for him tocome over weekly and give lessons to her more advanced pupils, who wouldbe likely to appreciate his musical knowledge and profit by histeaching.

  The thought of having to play before their prospective music masterspurred on most of the girls even more than the chance of the prize;they dashed valiantly at difficult passages, counted diligently, andloosened their muscles with five-finger exercises, each anxious to beplaced in the rank of those sufficiently advanced to be transferred tohis tuition. The drawing students also, though they could not practisespecially for their own prize, were busy finishing copies and sketchesfor a small exhibition of work done during the school year, which was tobe held in one of the classrooms during examination week, and criticizedby Mr. Leonard Pearce, an artist who had consented to set and judge thecompetition. Miss Harding was urging increased attention to mathematics,Miss Birks was giving extra coaching in history and English literature,Mademoiselle was hacking away at languages till her pupils almost wishedthat French and German were as dead as ancient Egyptian and Assyrian, soit was a very busy little world at the Dower House, so busy that reallynobody had time to think of anything else. The Principal, anxious tokeep her flock in good health, insisted upon the recreation hours beingdevoted to definite exercise, and either games or organized walks underthe supervision of a mistress were compulsory.

  For the present there was no strolling about the warren in "threesomes",there were no visits to the headland, or rambles on the beach. The girlsgrumbled a little at this lack of their accustomed freedom, complainedthat set walks reminded them of a penitentiary, and declared that to beobliged to play cricket took all the fun out of it. They thrived on thesystem, however, and were able to manage the increased brain workdemanded from them without incurring the penalty of headaches,backaches, or loss of appetite. A few certainly pleaded minor ailmentsas an excuse for shirking, but Miss Birks's long experience had taughther to distinguish readily between real illness and shamming, and shedismissed the would-be invalids each with a dose of such a nauseouscompound as entirely to discourage them from seeking further sympathy.Her bottle, a harmless mixture of Turkey rhubarb and carbonate ofmagnesia, might have been a magic elixir for the relief of all diseases,for with the same marvellous rapidity it cured Francie's palpitations,Irene's dyspepsia, and Elyned's attacks of faintness.

  "Nasty, filthy stuff!" declared the indignant sufferers, who, with aremembrance of Miss Birks's treatment of the measles patients, hadfondly expected to be coddled and cosseted, regaled on soda-water andlemonade, and forbidden to overexert themselves.

  "Serve you right!" chuckled their friends. "It's your own faults, foryou couldn't expect Miss Birks to believe in your whines when you lookin such absolutely rude health, and compass your meals so creditably.Why didn't you refuse all solid food?"

  "Oh no, thank you!"

  "And declare cocoa made you shudder?"

  "That's beyond a joke."

  "If anybody looks ill in this house," continued Annie, "it'sMademoiselle. She's pale and thin, if you like, and eats next tonothing, but she doesn't make any fuss about it."

  Noticeably Mademoiselle's increased work and anxiety on behalf of herpupils' success had a bad effect on her health. She looked worn andoverdone, and there were dark circles round her tired eyes. Though shedid not complain, she confessed to being troubled with sleeplessness.Night after night she lay awake till daybreak, and was sometimes onlydropping into a doze when the getting-up bell clanged in the passage."_Nuits blanches_ may be all very well in music, but they are notpleasant when one experiences them," she confided to Miss Harding. "WhenI stay waiting for sleep, I hear many curious sounds. Yes--such as onedoes not hear during the daylight."

  "A house is always full of creaks and groans if one stays awake atnight," returned Miss Harding. "You mustn't mind them."

  "During the day I smile at them," continued Mademoiselle, "but if I keepvigil I am nervous. Yes, to-night I shall be very nervous, for MissBirks will be away. I like not that she be away."

  It was very seldom that the Principal gave herself a holiday during theterm, but for once she was going to London to attend an importanteducational meeting, and would spend the night in town. She started byan early train, leaving her small kingdom in perfect order, andconfident that for so short a space of time nothing could possibly gowrong. Certainly nothing ought to have gone wrong; her arrangements wereexcellent, and Miss Harding was thoroughly capable of acting deputyduring her absence. Yet there is an old proverb that "while the cat'saway the mice will play", and the mere fact that she was not on the spotmade a difference in the school. The girls did not give any trouble, butther
e was a feeling of relaxed discipline in the air.

  At four o'clock, instead of going straight from their classroom to theirpractising, Deirdre and Dulcie decided to indulge in the luxury of a runround the grounds first. They walked briskly through the shrubbery, downthe steps, and along the terrace, till they came to the kitchen-garden.Now this kitchen-garden was absolutely forbidden territory to the girls,and they had never been inside it. To-day the gate, which was generallylocked, stood temptingly open. It seemed an opportunity too good to beresisted. With one accord they threw rules to the winds, and decided toexplore.

  A thick and high holly hedge effectually screened this corner of thegrounds from wind, and guarded it from intruders. It was a warm,productive plot of land, and entirely provided the school with fruitand vegetables. Deirdre and Dulcie did not trouble about the currantsand gooseberries, but kept straight down the path. They wishedparticularly to investigate the far end. Here the garden abutted on thecliffs, which sloped downward in a series of zigzag ridges.

  The girls made their way gingerly over a freshly-prepared bed of youngcabbages to the borderland where rhubarb and horse-radish merged intowormwood and ragwort. It was perfectly easy to slip over the edge andbegin to go down the first long shelving slab of rock. There was a dropof about four feet on to the second shelf, which again sloped downwardsat a gentle level to a third. Here the cliff ended in a precipice, sosteep that even the most experienced climber could not descend without arope. Rather baffled, the two girls crept cautiously along the edge,then Deirdre suddenly gave a whoop of delight, for she had spied a roughflight of steps cut in the surface of the rock, and evidently leading tothe beach below. It was rather a cat's staircase to venture upon, butthey were possessed with a thirst for exploration, and were not easilyto be daunted. Deirdre went first, and shouted encouragement to herchum, and Dulcie picked up heart to follow, so that in the course of afew minutes they found themselves safely on the sands at the bottom.

  "Whew! It's like climbing down the ladder of a lighthouse," exclaimedDulcie, subsiding on to a convenient stone. Her legs were shaking in amost unaccountable fashion, and her breath coming and going far morerapidly than was comfortable.

  "It might have been worse," affirmed Deirdre, trying not to show thather nerve had in any degree failed her, and surveying the scene with theeye of a prospector.

  They were in a small and very narrow cove, so hidden between cliffswhich jutted out overhead that it was practically invisible from above,and certainly could not be seen from anywhere in the school grounds. Itwas a pretty little creek, with a silvery slip of beach, and greenclumps of ferns growing high up in the interstices of the rocks; quite aromantic spot, so beautiful and secluded that it might almost be thehaunt of a mermaiden or a water nixie. The ferns, which were flourishingin unusual luxuriance, caught Deirdre's attention.

  "I believe it's the sea-spleenwort," she remarked. "Don't you rememberwe found some at Kergoff, and Miss Birks was so excited about it? I'msure she doesn't know all this is growing at the very bottom of her owngarden. I'll try and get a root."

  To obtain a root was more easily said than done, however. Most of theclumps of fern were in very inaccessible situations, and too deeplyembedded in the rock to be removed. Deirdre climbed from one to anotherin vain, then noticing a particularly fine group of fronds on aprojecting shelf far above her head, commenced to scale the cliff. Shereached the shelf fairly easily, but instead of setting to work to tryto uproot the fern, she gave a long whistle of surprise.

  "What's the matter?" asked Dulcie from below.

  "Matter! Come up yourself and see! Oh, goody!"

  Dulcie was still a little shaky, but spurred on by curiosity she got upthe cliff somehow, and added a "Hallo!" of amazement to her chum'sexclamations. Facing them was the entrance to a cave. At one time it hadevidently been carefully blocked up, but now the wooden boarding thatguarded it had been wrenched asunder, leaving a small opening justsufficient to enter by. The girls peeped cautiously in, but beyond thefirst few yards all was dark. This was indeed a discovery. The mouth ofthe cave was so effectually hidden by the crags which surrounded it thatnobody would have suspected its existence who had not come across it byaccident. What secrets lay in its mysterious depths, who could say?Thrilled with excitement, the girls turned to one another.

  "If we could only explore it!" breathed Dulcie.

  "We're going to!" returned Deirdre firmly. "I shall run back thisinstant to the house for a candle. You wait here."

  Deirdre's impatience made short work of the cat's staircase. Shescrambled up the rocks like a squirrel, and was soon racing up thekitchen-garden. To secure her bedroom candle and a box of matches wasthe work of a few minutes. As she pelted impetuously downstairs again,she nearly fell over Gerda, who had been doing preparation in theschoolroom, and scattered the pile of books she was carrying.

  "Do be careful," said the latter in remonstrance. "Where are you goingin such a hurry? And what do you want with your candle?"

  "Never you mind! It's no business of yours!" retorted Deirdre, runningaway without even an apology.

  Gerda picked up her books and carried them upstairs, but instead ofcontinuing her preparation she went to the window. She was just in timeto catch a glimpse of Deirdre vanishing down the kitchen-garden. Thesight seemed to afford her food for thought. She stood for a moment ortwo lost in indecision, then, evidently making up her mind, she set offin pursuit of her school-fellow. Deirdre, meanwhile, returned to thecove with speed and agility, and found Dulcie waiting where she had lefther.

  "I had a horrible feeling that a monster might come out while you wereaway!" she declared. "Do you think we dare go in?"

  "Dare? Of course we dare! I'm not going to have fetched this candle fornothing. Dulcie Wilcox, where's your pluck? Come along this minute, orI'll not be chums with you again. Here, you may hold the matches."

  Having lighted the candle, the two girls stepped through the breach inthe wooden barricade, and commenced their exploration. The passage, highat first, soon lowered till it was little above their heads, andnarrowed to a width of barely three feet. The walls, which for the firstten yards were worn as if by the action of the sea, became more jagged,and had plainly been hewn out with the aid of a pick, the natural cavernhaving been greatly extended. Here and there the floor was wet, and theroof showed an oozy deposit as if some surface spring were forcingitself through the strata of the rock. On and on the girls went for twohundred yards or more, Deirdre going first and holding the candle wellin front of her, so as to see the way. It was delightfully exciting, yetthere was a thrill of horror about it, for who could tell what might belurking round the next corner? Dulcie's nerves were strung to such apitch that she was ready to scream at the least alarm. Not a sound,however, broke the dead silence. The passage in its lonely calm mighthave been the entrance to an Egyptian tomb.

  "Does it lead anywhere?" whispered Dulcie. "Oh! hadn't we better turnback? We've gone far enough."

  "I'm going to the end, if it's in Australia!" replied Deirdre, andhaving possession of the candle, she was in a position to dictate.

  A few extra yards, however, concluded their journey, the passage beingonce again blocked by a wooden barrier. This was more carefullyconstructed than the one at the entrance, being made of well-planedtimber, and fitted with a door, which stood half-way open, and led intoa rough kind of chamber, rather resembling the crypt of a church. At thefar side of this there was a small closed door.

  "Well, we've got into a queer place!" exclaimed Deirdre. "Must have beena smuggler's cellar, I should say. No doubt they used to keep kegs andkegs of brandy down here in the good old days. Look, the roof is vaultedover there! Where does that door lead to?"

  The little door in question had apparently been opened by force, tojudge from the broken lock and the marks of some sharp instrument on thejambs. At present it was closed, but not fastened. What lay beyond? Witha feeling that they had arrived at the crowning-point of theiradventure, Deirdre opened it and peeped
in. She found herself lookingdown from an eminence of about four feet into a bedroom. The room was incomplete darkness, for the window was barred with heavy wooden shutters,but by the aid of her candle she could see it was unoccupied. Giving thelight to Dulcie to hold, she cautiously descended, then aided her chumto follow. The door through which they had stepped formed part of thepanelling over the mantelpiece, and when closed with its original springwould no doubt have been indistinguishable from the rest of thewoodwork. The room, though neglected and in great disorder,nevertheless bore traces of recent habitation. The bed, with its tumbledblankets, had certainly been slept in. On the dressing-table, spread outon a newspaper, were the remains of a meal. A small oil cooking-stoveheld a kettle, and one or two little packets, probably containing teaand sugar, lay about. On the floor, torn into small pieces, were theshreds of a letter written in German. Dusty and untended as it was now,the room must once have been pretty, and bore strong evidence of theownership of a little girl. On the walls hung framed colour prints ofMillais's "Cherry Ripe", "Little Mrs. Gamp", "Little Red Riding Hood",and "Miss Muffet". In the corner stood a doll's house, a doll's cradle,and a miniature chest of drawers. A chiffonier seemed to be a repositoryfor numerous treasures--a set of tiny alabaster cups and saucers, aglass globe which when shaken reproduced a snowstorm inside, awriting-desk, a walnut work-box, a small Japanese cabinet, and a wholerow of juvenile books. Deirdre took up some of the latter, blew the dustoff and examined them. They were volumes of _Little Folks_ and_Chatterbox_ of many years ago. On the title-page of each was written:"To darling Lillie from Father and Mother".

  In greatest amazement the girls wandered round the room, looking firstat one thing, then at another. How old the dust was that mostly coveredthem! Here and there it had been hastily swept away, to make aclearance for cup and saucer or provisions, but in general the littlepossessions were untouched. Even some New Year cards stood on the chestof drawers, bearing greetings and good wishes for the coming season.

  "I want to see better," said Deirdre. "This wretched candle only giveshalf a light. I've never been in such a fascinating place. Help me,Dulcie, and we'll try and unfasten the shutters."

  The heavy iron bar was old and rusty. It must have been in its place formany a long year. For some time the girls pushed and tugged in vain,then with a mighty effort they dislodged it from its socket, and let itclatter down. Deirdre slowly swung aside the shutter. After the faintlight of their one candle, the flood of sunshine which burst incompletely dazzled them. As soon as they could see, they peeped outthrough the dingy panes of glass. To their immense surprise they foundthey were looking into the Dower House garden. Then Deirdre suddenlyrealized the truth.

  "Dulcie! Dulcie!" she cried, "I verily believe we're in the barredroom!"

  There seemed little doubt about the matter, when they came to considerit. The position of the window corresponded exactly with the closed-upone which had always faced them from the tennis-courts, and whose secretthey had so often discussed. The mystery, instead of becoming clearer,seemed only to deepen. Why was one of the bedrooms in the Dower Housefilled with a child's possessions and sealed with iron bars, yetaccessible from a cave on the beach, and evidently in presentoccupation?

  The daylight revealed its extraordinary condition with great clearness;the dust, dirt, and cobwebs looked forlorn in the extreme. On a hook onthe door, which presumably led into the Dower House landing, hung a netfilled with hard wooden balls, and as the draught blew in from theopening over the fireplace, these swayed about and knocked with a gentlerapping against the panel.

  "There's your ghost, Dulcie," said Deirdre. "That was the tap-tappingyou heard in the passage. It wasn't a spook after all, you see."

  "You were just as scared as I was," protested Dulcie. "I think I'mrather scared now. Let's go! Suppose whoever's been here making tea wereto come back? I believe I'd have hysterics."

  There was something in Dulcie's suggestion. It had not before occurredto Deirdre that it would be unpleasant if the owner of the kettle wereto return and demand an explanation of their presence.

  "We must put the shutters back," she decreed.

  This was easier said than done, but after considerable trouble theymanaged to restore the room once more to its former state of darkness.Their candle was burning rather low, but they hoped it would besufficient to light them to the mouth of the cave. With the aid of achair they climbed on to the mantelpiece, passed through the door in thepanelling to the vaulted chamber, and on into the subterranean passage.They scurried along as fast as they could without stumbling, partly fromfear that the candle would go out, and partly in dread lest somebodyshould be coming from the entrance, and meet them on the way. It waswith a feeling of intense relief that, bearing the last guttering scrapof candle, they at length emerged into the daylight.

  "Here we are, safe and sound, and met no bogy, thank goodness!" rejoicedDulcie.

  "There's our bogy, waiting!" said Deirdre, pointing to a school hatwhich suddenly made its appearance from below.

  "Gerda, by all that's wonderful!" gasped Dulcie.

  Yes, it was Gerda who had followed them, and who now watched them asthey came out of the cave. She was paler than usual, and there was aqueer set look about her mouth.

  "So that was what you wanted the candle for. You might have told me,"she remarked.

  The two girls began an animated account of their strange adventure. Theywere so full of it that at the moment it would have been impossible toavoid talking about it. Gerda listened calmly, though she asked one ortwo questions. She spoke with the constrained manner of one who isputting a strong control on herself.

  "So you found nothing to explain the mystery?" she queried.

  "Nothing at all. Is it Lillie who's living there and doing her owncooking?"

  "And is she a girl or a spook?" added Dulcie.

  "Spooks don't drink tea. She must be alive," said Deirdre. "I wonder ifMiss Birks knows about her?"

  "I guess we'd better not divulge the secret!" chuckled Dulcie."What would Miss Birks say to us for trespassing in thekitchen-garden?--particularly when she's away."

  "We should get into a jolly row!" agreed Deirdre.

  "We shall all three get into one as it is if we don't go back quickly,"observed Gerda.

  Rather conscience-stricken, the chums obeyed her suggestion. They werefortunate enough to slip from the kitchen-garden without being observed,and hoped their escapade would not be discovered. After tea they hurriedto make up arrears of practising, but Gerda, evading the vigilance ofMademoiselle, gave an excuse to Miss Harding and absented herself frompreparation. Stealing very cautiously from the house she dived throughthe shrubbery and ran out on to the warren. Casting many a hasty glancebehind her to see if she were observed, she hurried along till shereached the little point above St. Perran's well where a rough pile ofstones made a natural beacon, easily visible from the sea or from thebeach below. Taking her handkerchief from her pocket she tied it to astick, which she planted at the summit of the pile. Waving in the breezeit was a conspicuous object. She watched it for a moment or two, thenwalked back along the cliff with the drooping air of one who is almostready to collapse after meeting a great emergency.

  "It was a near thing--a near thing!" she muttered to herself. "Supposethey'd met? Oh, it's too horrible! It was too risky an experiment,really! I hope my danger signal's plain enough. I must get up earlyto-morrow and take it down before anyone from the school sees it. It'llbe difficult with those two in the room--but I'll manage it somehow.Fortunately they're both sound sleepers!"