THE SECRET DOOR.
KNOWLE, in Kent, is an ancient manor-house. It stands knee-deep in richgarden and pasture lands, with hay-fields and apple-orchards stretchingbeyond, and solemn oak woods which whisper and shake their wise headswhen the wind blows, as though possessed of secrets which must not bespoken.
Very much as it looks to-day, it looked two hundred and thirty yearsago, when Charles the First was king of England. That was the Charleswho had his head cut off, you may remember. Blue Christmas smokes curledfrom the twisted chimneys in 1645, just as they will this year if theworld lasts so long as December. The same dinnery fragrance filled theair, for good cheer smells pretty much alike in all ages and the worldover. A few changes there may be--thicker trees, beds of gay flowerswhich were not known in that day; and where once the moat--a ditch-likestream of green water covered with weeds and scum--ran round the walls,is now a trimly cut border of verdant turf. But these changes areimprovements, and in all important respects the house keeps its oldlook, undisturbed by modern times and ways.
In the same nursery where modern boys and girls eat, sleep, and learntheir A, B, C to-day, two children lived,--little Ralph Tresham and hissister Henrietta. Quaint, old-fashioned creatures they would look to usnow; but, in spite of their formal dresses and speech, they were brightand merry and happy as any children you can find among youracquaintances. Ralph's name was pronounced "Rafe," and he always calledhis sister "Hexie."
Christmas did not come to Knowle in its usual bright shape in 1645.Gloom and sadness and anxiety overshadowed the house; and though thelittle ones did not understand what the cause of the anxiety was, theyfelt something wrong, and went about quietly whispering to each other incorners, instead of whooping and laughing, as had been their wont. Theyhad eaten their Christmas beef, and toasted the king in a thimbleful ofwine, as usual, but their mother cried when they did so; and Joyce, theold butler, had carried off the pudding with a face like a funeral. Soafter dinner they crept away to the nursery, and there, by the window,began a long whispering talk. Hexie had something very exciting to tell.
"Nurse thought I was asleep," she said, "but I wasn't quite; and whenthey began to talk I woke up. That wasn't wrong, was it, Rafe? Icouldn't sleep when I couldn't, could I?"
"I suppose not; but you needn't have listened," said Rafe, whose notionsabout honor were very strict.
"I did pull the pillow over my ear, but the words would get in," went onHenrietta, piteously. "And it was so interesting. Did you know thatthere were such creatures as Bogies, Rafe? Dorothy thinks we have gotone in our house, and that its hole is in the great gallery, becauseonce when she was there dusting the armor, she heard a queer noise inthe wall, and what else could it be? It eats a great deal, does theBogie. That's the reason nurse is sure we have got one. It ate all thecold sheep's-head yesterday, and the day before half the big pasty. Novictual is safe in the larder, the Bogie has such a big appetite, nursesays."
"I remember about the sheep's-head," said Rafe, meditatively. "Almostall of it was left, and I looked to see it come in cold; but when Iasked, Joyce said there was none. Cold sheep's-head is very good. Do youremember how much Humphrey used to like it?"
"I don't remember exactly, it is so long ago," replied Hexie. "How longis it, brother?--since Humphrey went away, I mean. Won't he ever comeback?"
"I asked Winifred once, but she only said, 'God knew,' that nothing hadbeen heard of him since the battle when the king was taken. He might bedead, or he might be escaped into foreign parts--and then she cried, oh,so hard, Hexie! Poor Humphrey! I hope he isn't dead. But, about theBogie, how curious it must be to meet one! Oh, I say, let us go to thegallery now, and listen if we can hear any strange noises there. Willyou?"
"Oh, Rafe! I'm afraid. I don't quite like--"
"But you can't be afraid if I'm there," said Rafe, valiantly; "besides,I'll put on Humphrey's old sword which he left behind. Then if the Bogiecomes--we shall see!"
Rafe spoke like a conquering hero, Hexie thought; so, though shetrembled, she made no further objection, but stood by while he lifteddown the sword, helped to fasten its belt over his shoulder, andfollowed along the passage which led to the gallery. The heavy swordclattered and rattled as it dragged on the floor, and the sound wasechoed in a ghostly way, which renewed Hexie's fears.
"Rafe! Rafe! let us go back," she cried.
"Go back yourself if you are afraid," replied Ralph, stoutly; and asgoing back alone through the dim passage seemed just then worse thanstaying where she was, Hexie stayed with her valiant brother.
Very softly they unlatched the gallery door, and stole in. It was along, lofty apartment, panelled with cedar-wood, to which time had givena beautiful light brown color. The ceiling, of the same wood, wascarved, here and there, with shields, coats of arms, and other devices.There was little furniture: one tall cabinet, a few high-backed Dutchchairs, and some portraits hanging on the walls. The sun, not yet quiteset, poured a stream of red light across the polished floor, leaving thefar corners and the empty spaces formidably dusk. The children hadseldom been in the gallery at this hour, and it looked to them almostlike a strange place, not at all as it did at noonday when they came tojump up and down the slippery floor, and play hide-and-seek in thecomers which now seemed so dark and dismal.
Even Rafe felt the difference, and shivered in spite of his bold heartand the big sword by his side. Timidly they went forward, hushing theirfootsteps and peering furtively into the shadows. Suddenly Hexie stoppedwith a little scream.
Close by the armor, half hidden by a curtain of heavytapestry, was an open door.--PAGE 142.]
Close to them stood a huge suit of armor, larger and taller than a man.The empty eye-holes of the helmet glared out quite like real eyes, andthe whole figure was terrible enough to frighten any little girl. But itwas not at the armor that Hexie screamed; the iron man was an old friendof the children's. Many a game of hide-and-seek had they played around,and behind, and even inside him; for Humphrey had contrived a cunningway by which the figure could be taken to pieces and put together again;and more than once Rafe had been popped inside, and had lain shakingwith laughter while Hexie vainly searched for him through all thegallery. This had not happened lately, for Rafe was hardly strong enoughto manage by himself the screws and hinges which opened the armor; buthe knew the iron man too well to scream at him, and so did Hexie. Theobject which excited her terror was something different, and so strangeand surprising that it is no wonder she screamed.
Close by the armor, half hidden by a curtain of heavy tapestry, was anopen door, where never door had been known to be. It stood ajar, anddimly visible inside was a narrow staircase winding upward.
"The hole of the Bogie!" gasped Hexie, clutching at Rafe's arm. Hestarted, and felt for the sword. It rattled fearfully, and the soundcompleted Hexie's terror. She burst away, flew like a scared lapwingdown the gallery, along the passages, and never stopped till she reachedthe nursery and her own bed, where, with two pillows and the quilt drawnover her head, she lay sobbing bitterly at the thought of Ralph leftbehind, to be eaten perhaps by the Bogie! Poor little Hexie!
Ralph, meanwhile, stood his ground. His heart beat very fast, but hewould not run away,--that was for girls. It must be owned, however, thatwhen a moment later the sound of muffled voices became audible down thestairs, he trembled extremely, and was guilty of the unmanlike act ofhiding behind the curtain. He was only ten years old, which must pleadhis excuse with bigger boys who are confident that they could never,under any circumstances, hide themselves or be afraid.
The voices drew nearer, steps sounded, and two figures came out of thenarrow doorway. Could there be two Bogies? No wonder they ate so much.But in another minute all thought of Bogies vanished from Ralph's mind,for in one of the figures he recognized his own sister Winifred.
Her companion was a man. There was something familiar in his form. Itmoved forward, and Ralph jumped so that the big sword rattled again.Bogie number two was his brother Humphrey, mourned as dead
ever sincethe summer before, when so many brave gentlemen gave up their lives forKing Charles at the battle of Naseby.
"What noise was that?" whispered Winifred, fearfully.
"Some sound from below," replied Humphrey, after listening a moment."Must you go, Winnie?"
"I must, dear Humphrey. I dare not absent myself longer lest I be missedand suspected. Oh, if to-morrow were but over, and you safe on theFrench lugger and over the sea! I cannot breathe while this hiding anddanger go on."
"I suppose I ought to be glad also," said Humphrey, ruefully; "but to methat French lugger means exile, and loneliness, and poverty, for therest of my life, perhaps. Better have laid down my life with the rest atNaseby, in striking one last blow for the king."
"Don't, don't speak so!" protested Winifred, tearfully. "You are alive,thank God; and once these wars are over we may rejoin you, and have ahappy home somewhere, if not in the land of our fathers. Now, dearHumphrey, have you all you need for the night?"
"Christmas cheer," said Humphrey, in a would-be cheerful voice. "Beefand ale,--what better fare could be? You are a gallant provider, myWinnie, and there is need, for since I have lain in that hole withnothing else to do, my appetite has raged like a wolf. That sheep's-headwas wondrous savory. I say though, Winnie, what do the servants think ofthe famine I create in the larder?"
"Oh, the stupid things fancy that a Bogie has taken up his residencehere. A very hungry Bogie, Joyce calls the creature!"
The brother and sister laughed; then they kissed each other.
"Good-night, dearest Winifred."
"Good-night, brother." And Humphrey vanished up the stairs. Winifredlingered a moment; then, as if remembering something, opened the dooragain and ran after him. Ralph marked that she laid her hand on aparticular boss in the carved wainscot, and pressed it in hard, whereonthe door sprang open. He stole out, laid his hand on the same boss, andfelt the spring give way under his touch. Some undefined idea ofstealing in later, to make Humphrey a visit, was in his head; but heheard Winifred returning, and hurried out of the gallery. Putting backthe sword in its place, he entered the nursery. No Hexie was visible,but a sobbing sound drew his attention to a tumbled heap on the bed.
"Is that you, Hexie? Why, what are you crying about?" pulling away thepillow, which she held tight.
"Oh, Rafe! Then the Bogie didn't eat you, after all!" And Hexie buriedher tear-stained face in his shoulder.
"Bogie! Nonsense! There are no such things as Bogies!"
"What was it, then, that lived up that dreadful stairs?"
"I can't tell you; only it was nothing at all dreadful. And, Hexie,don't say a word about that door to any one, will you? It might makegreat trouble if you did."
"I did tell Deborah, when she fetched the candle and asked why I cried,that I saw a strange door in the gallery," faltered Hexie, truthful,though penitent.
"Oh! Hexie, how could you? I don't like Deborah, and her father is acrop-eared knave. Humphrey said so one day. How could you talk to herabout the door, Hexie?"
"I--don't know. I was frightened, and she asked me," sobbed Hexie."Will it do any harm, Rafe?"
"It may," said Rafe, gloomily. "But don't cry, Hexie. You meant no harm,at all events."
"Oh, don't speak so gravely and so like Joyce," said Hexie, muchtroubled. She cried herself to sleep that night. Deborah, who undressedher, asked many questions about the gallery and the door.
"It was very dark, and perhaps I mistook,"--that was all Hexie could bemade to say. Ralph was disturbed and wakeful, and slept later than usualnext morning. He jumped up in a hurry and made what haste he could withdressing and breakfast, but it seemed as though they never took so muchtime before; and all the while he ate he was conscious of a stir andbustle in the house, which excited his curiosity very much.Knocking--the sound of feet--something unusual was going on.
As soon as possible he slipped away from nurse and ran to the gallery.The door was half open. He looked in, and stood still with terror. Menin brown uniforms and steel caps were there sounding the walls andtapping the floor-boards with staves. The gallery seemed full of them,though when Rafe counted there were but five.
"This man of iron was, in all likelihood, a Malignant also," he heardone of them say, striking the armor with his fist.
"He is somewhat old for that. Methinks that is armor of the time of thatman of blood, Harry the Eighth. Move it aside, Jotham, that we maysearch the farther panel."
So the heavy figure was thrust into a corner, and the men went ontapping with their wands. Rafe groaned within himself when he heard themdeclare that the wall sounded hollow, and saw them searching for aspring. Twenty times it seemed as though they must have lighted on theright place. Twenty times they just missed it.
"We were ill advised to come without tools," declared the man who seemedleader of the party. "Come thou to my shop, Peter Kettle, and thou,Bartimeus and Zerubbabel, and we will fetch such things as are needful.Jotham, stay thou here, to see that no man escapeth from the concealmentbehind the wall."
So four of the men went away, leaving Jotham striding up and down as onguard. Presently came a shout from beneath the window,--
"Jotham! our leader hath dropped his pouch in which are the keys of thesmithy. Hasten and bring it to the outer door."
"Aye, aye!" answered Jotham, and, pouch in hand, he ran down the stairs.Now was Rafe's opportunity. Like a flash he was across the gallery, hishand on the boss. The door flew open, and he fell into the arms ofHumphrey, who, sword in hand and teeth set, stood on the lower step ofthe staircase, prepared to sell his liberty as dearly as possible.
"Rafe! little Rafe!" he exclaimed.
"Hush! The man will come back," panted Rafe. "Come away--hide--oh,where?" Then with a sudden inspiration he dragged his brother toward theiron man. "Get inside," he cried. "They will never think of searchingthere! Oh, Humphrey--make haste! Get inside!"
There was no time to be lost. With the speed of desperation, Humphreyunscrewed, lifted, stepped inside the armor. Rafe slipped the fasteningstogether, whispered "Shut your eyes," and flew back to his hiding-place.Just in time, for Jotham's step was on the stair, and next moment heentered the gallery, and resumed his march up and down, little dreamingthat the man sought for was peeping through the helmet holes at him, notthree feet away.
Presently the other soldiers came back with hammers and wrenches, and ina short time the beautiful wainscot, split into pieces, lay on thefloor. Suddenly there was a shout. The secret door had flown open, andthe staircase stood revealed. Four of the men, with pikes and pistols,prepared to ascend, while the fifth guarded the opening below.
At that moment Winifred entered the gallery from the farther end. Sheturned deadly pale when she saw the open door and the men.
"Oh! Heaven have mercy!" she cried, and dropped half fainting into achair.
Rafe darted across the floor and seized her hand.
"Hush," he whispered. "Don't say a word, sister. _He_ is safe."
"He? Who?" cried the amazed Winifred.
But now voices sounded from above. The men were coming down. Winifredrallied her courage, rose, and went forward. She was very white still,but she spoke in a steady voice. Her two brothers, Humphrey in hishiding-place and little Rafe by her side, both admired her greatly.
"What is the meaning of this, Jotham Green?" she demanded. "By whatwarrant do you enter and spoil our house?"
"By the warrant which all true men have to search for traitors," saidJotham.
"You will find none such here," responded Winifred, firmly.
"We find the lurking-place in which one such has doubtless lain," saidZerubbabel. "Where holes exist, look out for vermin."
"You are less than civil, neighbor. An old house like this has manystrange nooks and corners of which the inhabitants may have neither usenor knowledge. If your search is done, I will beg you to make good thedamage you have caused as best you may, and with as little noise aspossible, that my mother be not alarmed. Jotham Green, you are a goo
dworkman, I know. I recollect how deftly you once repaired that cabinetfor us."
All the men knew Winifred, and her calm and decided manner made itsimpression. Jotham slowly picked up the fragments of the panelling andbegan to fit them together. The rest consulted, and at last rathersheepishly, and with a muttered half apology about "wrong information,"went away, taking with them the injured woodwork, which Jotham undertookto repair. Rafe's first words after they disappeared were,--
"Winifred, you must dismiss Deborah. It is she that has betrayed us."
"How do you know that, Rafe?"
Then it all came out. Winifred listened to the tale with streamingtears.
"Oh, Rafe, my darling, how brave you were! You played the man for usto-day, and have saved--I trust you have saved--our Humphrey. The menwill not return to-day, and to-night the lugger sails."
And Humphrey was saved. Before morning, well disguised, he had made hisway across country to a little fishing-port, embarked, and reachedFrance without further accident.
So that strange Christmas adventure ended happily. It was all long, longago. Humphrey and Winifred and Rafe lived their lives out, and lay downto rest a century and a half since under the daisy-sprinkled Englishsod. Little Hexie died an aged woman, before any of us was born. Butstill the beautiful old manor-house stands amid its gardens and pasturelands, with the silvery look of time on its gray walls. Still the armedfigure keeps guard beside the secret staircase, the tapestry hangs inthe old heavy folds, evening reddens the cedar walls and the polishedfloor, and everything occupies the same place and wears the same lookthat it did when little Rafe played the man in that gallery, and savedhis brother Humphrey, more than two hundred years ago.