CHAPTER XIX
A Torn Letter
In order to understand the events which were happening at the DowerHouse we must go back for a period of some years in the history of thefamily at the Castle. The late owner, Squire Trevellyan, having lost hisonly child, had practically adopted his nephew L'Estrange Trevellyan ashis heir. He had indeed other nephews and nieces, but they were thechildren of his sisters, and it seemed to him fitting that L'Estrange,the only one who bore the family name of Trevellyan, should inherit hisCornish estate. The young fellow was an immense favourite with his uncleand aunt, they regarded him in the light of a son, the Castle wasconsidered his home, and they had even decided upon an alliance for himwith the daughter of a neighbouring baronet. But in this matterL'Estrange had defied the wishes of the autocratic old squire, and,making his own choice, had wedded a lady of less aristocratic birth. Hismarriage caused a great coolness between himself and his uncle and aunt;his bride was not asked to the Castle nor openly recognized, and he wasgiven to understand that he had seriously injured his chances ofsuccession to the estate. His cousins, who had long been jealous of hisprospects, were not slow to avail themselves of this opportunity, anddid all they could to make mischief and to widen the breach.
Matters went on thus for about ten years, during which time, thoughSquire and Mrs. Trevellyan occasionally asked L'Estrange to the Castle,they still refused to have anything to do with his wife, and did not seeeither of his children. At the Squire's death there was great anxietyamong the relatives to know how he had disposed of his property. Whenthe will was read it was found that he had left the Castle and entireestate to his wife, with power to bequeath it as she wished, and equalmoney legacies to all his nephews and nieces; but at the end came acodicil revoking the former part of the will, leaving only smalllegacies to the other nephews and nieces, but a large sum to L'Estrange,and bequeathing the Castle and property to him after Mrs. Trevellyan'sdeath. The relations, furiously angry to be thus cut out, disputed thevalidity of the codicil. There were many points in its disfavour. Thelawyer who had drawn it up was dead, and of the two witnesses who hadsigned their names to it one was missing and the other dead. There wastherefore not a solitary person left to vouch for it. The family decidedto go to law, and in the case which followed the handwriting expertsdecided that the signature to the codicil was not genuine, giving it astheir opinion that it had been forged by L'Estrange Trevellyan.
The case against L'Estrange looked extremely black, for he had beenstaying at the Castle at the time of his uncle's illness and death. Inview of the decision in the case a criminal charge of forgery was laidagainst him, and a warrant issued for his arrest. Before it was out,however, he had disappeared--no one knew whither.
To Mrs. Trevellyan the evidence seemed overwhelming, and in spite of hergreat affection for her nephew, she believed him guilty. It had alwaysbeen her great wish that the Castle and estate should pass to one whobore the name of Trevellyan, and at this dreadful crisis she offered toadopt L'Estrange's little son, and to bring him up as heir to theproperty. Her one condition was that she must have the child absolutely,and that his father and mother should not attempt in any way to obtainaccess to him. In his desperate circumstances L'Estrange had consented;the boy was handed over to his great-aunt, and had been brought up atthe Castle without any remembrance of his own home and parents.
The affair had, of course, made a great stir in the neighbourhood, butas L'Estrange had not remained in the country to face a prosecution, andtherefore no trial of the case had followed, opinions were divided as tohis guilt. In the course of five years the excitement had died down, andthough the story was well known at Pontperran it was regarded as theTrevellyan family skeleton, and best buried in oblivion. Miss Birks hadtried to keep the matter from her pupils; they had a vague knowledgethat Ronnie's father was unsatisfactory, but they had been able to gleanno further details. In view, however, of the strange chain of eventswhich had just transpired, Miss Birks gave Deirdre and Dulcie, inprivate, a hasty outline of the circumstances, telling them that Gerdawas in reality the daughter of Mr. L'Estrange Trevellyan, and that fromcertain evidence which she had been able to collect she was confident ofdisproving the charge which had been brought against her father.
Though the chums were thus briefly in possession of their school-mate'ssecret, they felt there were many pieces in the puzzle which they couldnot yet fit together. When they went to bed that night they begged Gerdato give them a full and complete explanation. To their surprise sheimmediately consented; indeed, instead of keeping her old habit ofreserve she seemed anxious to take them into her confidence and to pourher whole story into their listening ears.
"If you're Ronnie's sister you can't be Gerda Thorwaldson," said Dulcie."I didn't know Ronnie had a sister. I thought he was an only child."
"There are just the two of us," replied Gerda. "I am nine years olderthan he is, so I've always felt almost like a mother to him. Shall Itell you everything? Quite from the beginning? Miss Harding will excuseus for talking to-night. When our terrible trouble came upon us Ronniewas only fifteen months old--such a darling! He could just walk and saylittle words. I have his photo inside my work-box. You can imagine thegrief it was to part with him, our baby, who'd never been a day from us.Mother was very brave--she realized that she had to decide betweenFather and her boy, and of course she chose Father. We knew it wasentirely for Ronnie's good. Mrs. Trevellyan would bring him up in theold family home as an English boy should be, and would make him herheir; and we could only take him from one foreign place to another, andgive him nothing but poverty and a tarnished name. You know, of course,that my father was accused of having forged a codicil to his uncle,Squire Trevellyan's will. By a round of misfortune everything seemed tocombine in his disfavour. One witness to the codicil was dead, the otherwas missing, and though advertisements were put in the papers offering areward for news of his whereabouts he could not be found. Mr. Forster,the lawyer who had drawn up both the will and the codicil, was dead, sothere was no evidence on Father's side, and the case went heavilyagainst him.
"The codicil having been disproved, the public prosecutor stepped in andissued a warrant to arrest my father on a charge of forgery. In thecircumstances, with no witnesses obtainable, it was not considered wisefor him to stand the doubtful chance of a trial, and acting on theadvice of his best friends, though very much against his own wishes, hequietly left the country. For nearly five years he, Mother, and I havelived together in various continental towns, constantly moving on, as wefeared the foreign police might recognize the description circulated atthe time of his escape and arrest him under an extradition warrant. Forsafety we changed our name at almost every place. I cannot express thewretched uncertainty and the misery of this hunted life, especially whenwe knew the charge to be so utterly false. There would have been onlyone worse evil--to see him wrongfully sentenced and sent to a convictprison. The dread of that possible horror we endured from day to day.Meantime Mother, though she would not confess it, fretted terribly atRonnie's loss. As year after year went by, and she pictured him growingolder, it became harder and harder for her to exist without hearing theleast word about him.
"'If I had even one poor little snapshot photo it would comfort me,' shesaid once. 'It would show me my darling is well and happy and cared forin his new home.'
"Then an idea came to me. Though I had never been at Pontperran in mylife I had often heard my father speak of the Dower House, and I knew itwas close to the Castle. I begged to be sent to school there, for Ithought I should find some opportunity of seeing Ronnie, and not onlytaking a photo of him, but sending first-hand news about him to Mother.I hoped also--but it seemed such a forlorn hope!--that if I were on thespot I might pick up some information that might throw a light on thecase and help to clear my father's honour. There seemed little risk ofmy being detected, for Mrs. Trevellyan had never seen me--Aunt Edith, Iought to call her--and I meant to keep carefully out of her way.
"Mother jumped at my s
uggestion. I could see that the mere chance ofnews of Ronnie put fresh life into her, and after some persuasion Fatheragreed to let me go. I took the name of Gerda Thorwaldson, and theletters to Miss Birks, arranging for me to be received as a pupil, werewritten from Donnerfest, a little town in Germany. Mother brought me toLondon, and put me safely into the train for Cornwall. Then she used theopportunity of being in England to pay quiet visits to some of her ownrelations whom she had not seen for many years.
"My father had a friend, a man who believed in his innocence, and didhis best to help him. This Mr. Carr took him a cruise on his yacht, andcame to Cornish waters, tacking about the coast from Avonporth toKergoff. By borrowing the yacht's dinghy, Father was able sometimes toland near Portperran and meet me for a few minutes. Of course it was aterribly risky thing to do, for he was liable to be arrested any momentthat he set his foot on English soil; but he longed so much to see me,and, above all, to hear what I could tell of Ronnie. He was so anxiousto catch a glimpse of the little fellow for himself that he insistedupon venturing farther on shore. He knew the secret of the barred room,so, bringing with him an oil cooking-stove, a kettle, and a few otherthings from the yacht, he took up his quarters there for a while.
"I was in an agony lest he should be discovered. I cannot tell you whatI suffered on this account. He did not stay the whole time at the cave;indeed he lived mostly on the yacht, but kept spending occasional nightsin the secret room. I never knew whether he was there or not, and theuncertainty made me wretched.
"During the last five years we had seemed continually to be standing onthe brink of a volcano, and I was always prepared to face the worst.
"I can scarcely express how deeply I realized the difference betweenmyself and all the other girls at school. I know you thought me reservedand uncommunicative and stand-off and everything that is disagreeable,but I simply dared not talk, for fear I might reveal something thatwould betray my father. You with your happy homes, and nothing toconceal, how can you understand what it is perpetually to guard adreadful secret? I could tell you nothing about my home, for we had nohome, we had only moved on from one lodging to another, and left noaddress behind. I could see that you misjudged me, and were full ofsuspicions, but I could not explain.
"You were annoyed with me for winning favour with Ronnie. You would nothave grudged me his affection if you had known how I had craved for himall these years, and how hard, how very hard it was to be obliged totreat him as if I were an entire stranger, instead of his own sister.Then I was terribly afraid of meeting Mrs. Trevellyan, lest she shouldrecognize my likeness to my father and guess our secret. I avoided heron every possible occasion, and on the whole I managed very successfullyto keep out of her way.
"But Mother was pining and yearning to see Ronnie. The little photos Ihad sent, and my descriptions of him, added to the fact of her being inEngland, so near to him, only made her long for him more bitterly thanbefore. It seemed so cruel that she--his own mother--must be so utterlyparted from him. I was determined that she should have at least the poorsatisfaction of seeing him, and I plotted and schemed to contrive ameeting. I decided that on the night of the beacon fire I might manageto carry Ronnie away for a few minutes, so as to give the opportunity wewanted. I cajoled him with promises of fairies, and persuaded him quiteeasily to go with me to find them. Father, who was as anxious andexcited as Mother, was waiting with a boat, but you know the rest, foryou followed us. Perhaps Mrs. Trevellyan suspected something--she musthave known shortly afterwards, for she recognized Father when he rescuedRonnie on the cliff. I heard her call him by his name. Father used to beher favourite nephew, indeed he was almost like a son to her, but shehad believed him guilty, and had told him never to show his face to heragain. Even before Squire Trevellyan's death there had already been anestrangement between them because of his marriage. My mother was nottheir choice, and on this account Mrs. Trevellyan objected to her, andonly once consented to meet her. Though Father sometimes went to theCastle to visit his uncle and aunt, my mother and I were never invitedthere, and Mrs. Trevellyan had not seen Ronnie until she adopted him.
"After the beacon fire I felt I had accomplished one part at least of mymission at school. Mother had seen and kissed her boy, and she seemed alittle comforted and cheered in consequence. But the greater task whichI had set myself, that of clearing my father's name, was stilluntouched. One possible clue there was which I thought I might followup. Do you remember how in February we went to Forster's Folly? I knewthat Mr. Forster had been the lawyer who drew up Squire Trevellyan'swill and the famous codicil. That was the reason why I was so anxious togo into the house, and so excited when we found those letters lyingabout upstairs. I would have stayed to look at them if I had dared. YouDeirdre, tore off a scrap of a letter with a crest on it, to take foryour collection. Now that crest was the boar's head of the Trevellyans,which I knew very well, for it used to be on our own note-paper beforeour trouble came. You had torn the piece from the rest of the letter,but I could read--
"'DEAR FORST .. "'Kindly c . . . . .'
And on turning the scrap over I found on the other side--
"'wish to . . . "'extra codi . . . . . .'
"Could it be possible, I speculated, that this was a portion of anoriginal letter sent by Squire Trevellyan to Mr. Forster, asking him tocome to the house, as he wished to make an extra codicil to his will? Ifthat were really so, it would make a most important piece of evidence. Ibegged you to give me the crest, but you would not part with it then,and locked it up. I was most anxious to go to Forster's Folly again andtry to find the rest of the letter, but I never found an opportunityuntil last week. It was too far to venture in our recreation time, and Idare not be absent from school for hours without leave. I would havetold Mother and asked her to go, but there were two reasons againstthis. We feared she might be known to the police, and that they wouldwatch her so as to obtain some clue to my father's whereabouts, so shedid not wish to venture into Cornwall while he was near the coast. Whenshe came to see Ronnie she went over first to France, and our friendfetched her from there in the yacht, and took her back to St. Malo, sothat she need not be seen on the South-Western Railway.
"My second reason was that until I could be sure that the other part ofthe letter really contained what I expected, it seemed cruel to raisefalse hopes. If you had seen, as I have, the bitter, bitter tragedy ofmy parents' lives, you would understand how I wanted to spare them adisappointment. So I waited and waited, and at last my opportunity came.Circumstances were kind, and when we had our whole day's holiday, I waschosen as a hare. Oh, how rejoiced I was when you decided to go past thewindmill to Kergoff! I was determined to put in a visit somehow to theold house, but it came so naturally when we needed more paper. To myintense delight I found the other portion of the letter that I wanted,and then you were kind and gave me the scrap with the crest. The two fitexactly together. Look, I will show you! This is what they make whenjoined--
"'THE CASTLE, "'_Thursday_.
"'DEAR FORSTER,
"'Kindly come to-morrow morning about eleven, if you can make that convenient, as I want to consult you on a matter of some importance. Those Victoria Mine shares have gone up beyond my wildest dreams, and I'm thinking of selling out now, and clearing what I can. They'll make a difference to my estate, and to meet this I wish to add an extra codicil to my will. L'Estrange is here, so you will see him. I have not been well--a touch of the old heart trouble, I am afraid. I must ask Jones to arrange for me to consult a London specialist. If you cannot come to-morrow morning, please arrange Saturday.
"'Sincerely yours, "'RICHARD TREVELLYAN.'
This is very strong evidence that Squire Trevellyan intended making thecodicil to his will. I am longing to show it to Father and Mother, butthey are both away cruising in the yacht. I don't know where they arenow; they promised to send me word when it was safe for me to write tothem.
"When w
e began to hear those strange noises in the barred room, andyesterday you discovered the secret of its entrance, I was dreadfullyalarmed. I thought my father must have come back again in spite of mywarnings that the cave was unsafe. I felt so nervous and uneasy that atlast I decided to go and see for myself, and beg him not to stay.
"When I reached the entrance, however, I did not dare to go in alone, incase it should be somebody else instead of my father who was there. Ireproached myself for my cowardice, but I was only just screwing mycourage to the point when you two arrived with Miss Birks. I need nottell you how relieved I was when we did not find my father. You saw myfrantic excitement when it turned out that the tramp whom we discoveredwas no other than Abel Galsworthy, the missing witness to the will? Withhis oath and this precious, precious letter the evidence ought to becomplete. Oh, the rapture of the day when Father's name is cleared andhis honour restored, and he can live anywhere he likes, openly andwithout fear. Now I have told you my whole story. I'm sure you'll seewhy I was so queer and secretive, and so different from other girls."
"We understand and sympathize now," said Deirdre, "but you puzzled usvery much at the time."
"We thought you were a German spy," chuckled Dulcie. "We were going toget great credit by finding out your wicked plot against England, andinforming the Government!"
"Had you anything to do with that man in the aeroplane? Why, I'd almostforgotten him!" exclaimed Deirdre.
"I never even knew there was an aeroplane here," protested Gerda.
"You haven't told us your real name yet," urged Dulcie.
"Mary Gerda Trevellyan. Father and Mother have always called me Mamie,but I like Gerda best, and when I came to school I begged to be 'GerdaThorwaldson', so that part at least of my name was genuine."
"Weren't you afraid that Mrs. Trevellyan might discover you throughthat?"
"She had always heard me alluded to as Mamie. We thought she hadprobably quite forgotten the 'Gerda'."
"There's one thing I still can't understand," said Dulcie. "We found outthe entrance to the barred room, but why was it ever barred? It seems soextraordinary--right in the middle of a school."
"I can explain that too," returned Gerda. "Father has often told me thestory. Years and years ago Squire and Mrs. Trevellyan had one onlychild, a little girl named Lillie. Father was very fond of this cousin,and they were almost like brother and sister together. Then, when shewas ten years old, she died. At that time they were living at the DowerHouse, because alterations were being made at the Castle. Her death wasvery sudden--she was only ill a few hours. One day she was laughing andplaying about, and on the next she was dead. Her poor father and motherwere simply heart-broken. They took her toys, and all her littletreasures, and put them in her bedroom, which they left just as if shewere going to occupy it still. Then they locked up the door and barredit, and declared that during their lifetime nobody should ever enter. Itwas to be sacred to Lillie, and no one else must use it. My father, ofcourse, knew about it, and he also knew of the secret passage--an oldsmuggler's way--that led into it from the cave. The door of this passagehad been carefully nailed up before Lillie used the room, but he hadheard that it opened over the fireplace. In his desperate need of a safeshelter he remembered this place, came up the passage, then forced thedoor and found his way into the room. He said it was surely no crime,for 'little Cousin Lillie' had been fond of him, and always ready toscreen him in his boyish days, so he thought, if she could know, shewould be glad for him to use what had once been hers."
"I haven't asked half all yet," persisted Dulcie. "Do you remember whenfirst you came to school, we all tried our luck at St. Perran's well,and you were the only one who did the right things, and whose stickfloated away? How did you manage it?"
Gerda smiled.
"Father had often told me about the well, and the exact way to performSt. Perran's ceremony. He used to try it with Lillie when he was alittle boy. He said half the secret was to unstop the channel above thespring. My wish was that I might clear his name, so you see it cametrue, though at the time it seemed as unlikely as flying in an aeroplaneto America."
"You put a message in a bottle and threw it into the sea for yourfather," said Deirdre. "You didn't know Dulcie and I fished it out?"
"Oh! Did you?" said Gerda reproachfully. "Then that was the letter henever received?"
Gerda's discovery in Abel Galsworthy of the missing witness for whomsuch long search had been made was certainly a very fortunatecircumstance for that worthy. Instead of being handed over to thepolice, and prosecuted for trespassing and pilfering, he found himselfprovided with new clothes, comfortably lodged in the village, and givena promise of work when his important part in the law proceedings shouldbe over. At present he was the hero of the hour, for on his word alonehung Mr. Trevellyan's honour. As the other witness and the lawyer wereboth dead, his oath to his signature would be sufficient to prove thegenuineness of the codicil. There were, of course, elaborate legalproceedings to be taken. Mr. Trevellyan appealed for a reversal of thejudgment in the former trial, and the case would have to wait its turnbefore it could come before the court. As the warrant for his arrest wasstill technically in force, he was obliged to continue living on theyacht until his innocence had been officially recognized--a state ofaffairs that greatly roused Gerda's indignation, though Miss Birkspreached patience.
"I wanted Father and Mother to come to the prize-giving," she lamented.
"These legal difficulties cannot be rolled away in a few days," saidMiss Birks. "Let us be thankful that we can count upon success lateron."
Now that Gerda no longer needed to hide a tragic secret, her wholebehaviour at the Dower House had altered, and her schoolfellows hardlyrecognized in the merry, genial, sociable companion, which she nowproved, the silent recluse who had given her confidence to nobody. Inthis fresh attitude she was highly popular; the romance of her storyappealed to the girls, and they were anxious to make up to her forhaving misjudged her. Also they greatly appreciated her newly-discoveredcapacity for fun and humour.
"Gerda never made one solitary joke before, and now she keeps uslaughing all day," said Betty Scott.
"How could she laugh when she was carrying that terrible burden all thetime?" commented Jessie Macpherson. "Poor child! No wonder she'sdifferent now the shadow's removed from her life."
"We'll have ripping fun with her next term," anticipated Annie Pridwell.
Meanwhile very little of the old term was left. The dreaded examinationweek arrived, bringing Dr. Harvey James to test those who were toundergo the piano ordeal, and Mr. Leonard Pearce to criticize theartistic efforts. In the other subjects there were written papers, whichwere corrected and judged by the donors of the prizes. In spite of muchapprehension on the part of the girls, Dr. Harvey James made a goodimpression, and did not turn out to be the strict martinet theyexpected; indeed he commented so kindly and so helpfully on theirplaying that they began to look forward to their lessons with him duringthe forthcoming autumn.
The art class spent a delightful though anxious afternoon, sketching agroup of picturesque Eastern pots artistically grouped by Mr. LeonardPearce, who was kind and charitable in his criticisms of their littleexhibition of paintings hung in the big classroom. To their delight hefinished his visit by himself making a study of the pots, while theystood round and watched his clever brush dabbing on the colour withswift and skilful strokes.
"Miss Birks is going to have his sketch framed," said Deirdreappreciatively, when he had gone.
"I wish he could teach us every week," declared the art enthusiasts.
"Ah! you see, he lives in London, and only comes to Cornwall sometimesfor a holiday. But Miss Birks has promised to get an artist next summerto give us sketching lessons."
One advantage of the smallness of the school was that it was not alengthy matter to correct the examination papers of only twenty pupils.That work was soon over, and the girls had not long to remain insuspense before the lists were ready. The annual prize-giving
was alwaysthe occasion of a social gathering. Some of the girls' parents camedown for it, and friends in the neighbourhood were invited. If theweather were favourable, it was generally held in the garden, and thistime, the sky being cloudless, all arrangements had been made on thelawn, where the gardener had erected a temporary platform. It seemed agreat day to Gerda, as she came downstairs in her white dress, andwatched the company that was already beginning to arrive. If only herfather and mother could have been numbered among the guests her blisswould have been complete. Ronnie, however, was running in and out like asunbeam, and her aunt had spoken to her, and had been kindness itself.
"We must all let bygones be bygones now, my dear, and rejoice togetherat this happy ending of our troubles," said Mrs. Trevellyan. "I hope youwill soon come to know the Castle as well as Ronnie does, and feelequally at home there."
Most of the prizes fell exactly as had been expected. Jessie Macphersonwon the lion's share in the Sixth, Hilda Marriott scored the record forVA, and Barbara Marshall and Romola Harvey divided the honours of VB.Deirdre got "highly commended" for both music and drawing, but Dulcie,despite her valorous spurt at the finish, had no luck. She was only toodelighted, however, to find that the prize for which she had tried--thatfor general improvement--had been awarded to Gerda.
"She deserves it if anyone does," she whispered to Deirdre. "I say,dare we start three cheers for her?"
"We'll risk it," returned Deirdre, augmenting the applause by a vigorous"Hip-hip-hip hooray!" which was at once taken up by the entire school.Gerda, red as a rose, walked back from the platform, blushing now withreal bashfulness, instead of her old nervous apprehension. Ronnie waswaving his little hat and shouting the shrillest of cheers, and Mrs.Trevellyan was clapping her best.
"Ave! Ave! winner of General Improvement!" exclaimed the members of VB,as they welcomed her back to their particular bench. "Miss Birkscouldn't have given it better!"
Gerda's eyes filled with tears.
"I'm glad if you do find me improved," she said. "It's ever so nice ofyou to be kind to me now. I was horrid before--and I knew it--but Icouldn't help it."
"We understand exactly," sympathized the girls.
* * * * *
There is very little more of our story left to be told. Mr. Trevellyanwon his case, and successfully proved his innocence to the whole world.Restored to good name and fortune, he has taken "Overdale", a prettyhouse in the neighbourhood of Pontperran, which happened to be to let.Gerda continues a pupil at the Dower House, though she is often able tovisit her own home. Ronnie, while he will see his aunt every day, is tolive with his parents, a fitting and also a very salutary arrangement,for he is no longer a baby, and was growing too much for Mrs.Trevellyan's and Miss Herbert's powers of management. The self-willedlittle fellow respects his father's authority, and will run far lessrisk of getting spoilt than when he was "King of the Castle".
"In a year or two the young rascal will be old enough for school," saidMr. Trevellyan, "and in the meantime he must get to know his mother andme."
Gerda is immensely delighted with her new home, and very proud to takeschool friends there on half-holidays. Deirdre and Dulcie are frequentvisitors. Abel Galsworthy, a reformed character after his wanderings, isgardener at Overdale, and likely to prove a most devoted servant; and asfor the torn letter, it is framed and glazed, and occupies the place ofhonour on the wall over the chimney-piece in Gerda's bedroom.
Transcriber's Note:
Punctuation has been standardised. Hyphenation and spelling have beenretained as in the original publication, except as follows:
Page 121 through the field-glasses as he disappeard _changed to_ through the field-glasses as he disappeared
Page 184 and fetched limpets and perwinkles _changed to_ and fetched limpets and periwinkles
Page209 Irene's dyspepia, and Elyned's attacks of faintness _changed to_ Irene's dyspepsia, and Elyned's attacks of faintness
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