CHAPTER X
OPEN CONFESSION IS GOOD FOR THE SOUL
A housemaid, passing through the disused "old laundry" on the groundfloor, as a short-cut toward the newer one in a detached building,heard a strange noise in the drying-room overhead, and paused tolisten. This was unusual. In ordinary the loft was never entered,nowadays, except by some slippered maid, or Michael with a trunk.
Setting down her basket of soiled linen she put her hands on her hipsand stood motionless, intently listening. Dorothy? Could it beDorothy? Impossible! No living girl could make all that racket;yet--was that a scream? Was it laughter--terror--wild animal--or what?
Away she sped; her nimble feet pausing not an instant on the way, nomatter with whom she collided nor whom her excited face frightened,and still breathlessly running came into the great Assembly Hall.There Miss Tross-Kingdon had, by the advice of the Bishop, gatheredthe whole school; to tell them as quietly as she could of Dorothy'sdisappearance and to cross-examine them as to what anyone couldremember about her on the evening before.
For the sorrowful fact could no longer be hidden--Dorothy Calvert wasgone and could not be found.
On the faces of those three hundred girls was consternation and grief;in their young hearts a memory of the "spookish" things which hadhappened of late, but that had not before disturbed them; and now, atthe excited entrance of the maid, a shiver ran over the whole company.Here was news! Nothing less could explain this unceremoniousdisturbance. Even Miss Muriel's face turned paler than it had been,could that have been possible and without a word she waited for themaid to speak.
"Oh! Lady Principal! Let somebody come! The drying-loft!screams--boards dragging--or trunks--or murder doing--maybe! Letsomebody go quick--Michael--a man--men--Somebody quick!"
Exhausted by her own excitement, the maid sank upon the nearest chair,her hand on her heart, and herself unable to add another word. MissTross-Kingdon rose, trembling so that she could hardly walk, and madeher way out of the room. In an instant every assembled schoolgirl wason her feet, speeding toward the far west wing and the great loft,dreading yet eager to see what would there be revealed.
Still anxious on his own account, but from a far different cause, andstill listening at the closed door with wonder at what seemed going onbehind it, was Jack, the boot-boy. At the approach of the excitedgirls, he lifted his ear from the keyhole and looked behind him, tofind himself trapped, as it were, at this end of the narrow passage bythe multitude which swarmed about him, feverishly demanding:
"Boy, what is it? What is it? Is Dorothy in there? Is Dorothy found?"
"Is Dorothy--"
Poor Jack! This was the worst yet! At full comprehension of what thatquestion meant, even he turned pale and his lips stuttered:
"I--I--dunno--I--Jiminy cricket!"
He must get out of that! He must--he must! Before that door was openedhe must escape!
Frantically he tried to force his way backward through the crowd whichpenned him in, but could make little progress; even that beingsuddenly cut off by a strong hand laid on his shoulder and the _chef_forcing into his hand a stout crowbar, and ordering:
"Help to break her down!" at the same instant Michael, the porter,pressing to his side armed with an ax. "Now, all together!" cried he,and whether or no, Jack was compelled to aid in the work of breakingin.
But it was short work, indeed, and the crowd surged through theopening in terror of what they might behold--only to have that terrorchanged into shouts of hilarious delight.
For there was Dorothy! not one whit the worse for her briefimprisonment and happily unconscious of the anxiety which that hadcaused to others. And there was Baal, the goat! Careering about theplace, dragging behind him a board to which he had been tied and wasunable to dislodge. The room was fairly lighted now by the sunstreaming through the skylight, and Baal had been having a glorioustime chasing Dorothy about the great room, from spot to spot,gleefully trying to butt her with his horns, leaping over piles ofempty trunks, and in general making such a ridiculous--if sometimesdangerous--spectacle of himself, that Dorothy, also, had had a merrytime.
"Oh! you darling, you darling!" "Dolly Doodles, how came you here!""Why did you do it? You've scared us all almost to death!" "The Bishophas gone into town to start detectives on your track!" "The LadyPrincipal--Here she is now! you've made her positively ill, and as forDawkins, they say she had completely collapsed and lies on her chairmoaning all the time."
"Oh, oh! How dreadful! And how sorry I am! I never dreamed; oh! dearMiss Muriel, do believe me--listen, listen!"
The lady sat down on a trunk and drew the girl to her. Her onlyfeeling now was one of intensest gratitude, but she remembered how allthe others had shared her anxiety and bade her recovered pupil tellthe story so that all might hear. It was very simple, as has beenseen, and needs no repetition here, ending with the heartfeltdeclaration:
"That cures me of playing detective ever again! I was so anxious tostop all that silly talk about evil spirits and after all the onlysuch around Oak Knowe was Baal!"
"But how Baal, and why? And most of all how came he here in thehouse?" demanded Miss Tross-Kingdon, looking from one to another;until her eye was arrested by the expression of Jack, the boot-boy'sface. That was so funny she smiled, seeing it, and asked him:
"Can't you explain this, Jack?"
"Uh--er--Ah! Wull--wull, yes, Ma'am, I allow 't I might. I mean 't Ican. Er--sho!--Course, I'll have to. Wull--wull--You see, Miss LadyPrincipal, how as last summer, after school was took in, I hiredmyself out to work for old John Gilpin an' he had a goat. Dame didn'thanker for it no great; said it et up things an' got into places where'twarn't wanted and she adwised him, that is to say she told him, how't he must get rid of it. He got rid of it onto me. I hadn't gotnobody belongin' and we've been first rate friends, Baal and me."
This was evidenced by the quietude of the animal, now lying at theboot-boy's feet in affectionate confidence, and refreshing itself witha nap, after its hilarious exercise.
"Strange that we didn't know he was on our grounds, for I did not.Where have you kept him, Jack, and how?"
The lad flushed and fidgetted but dared not refuse to reply. He hadbeen too long under the authority of Miss Tross-Kingdon for that, towhose good offices his mother had left him when she died.
"Wull--Wull--"
"Kindly stop 'wulling' and reply. It is nearly lunch time and Dorothyhas had no breakfast."
"Yes, Miss Muriel, please but I have. When I waked up after I'd sleptso long it was real light, so I went poking around to see if I couldfind another door that would open, or any way out; and I came to aqueer place away yonder at the end; and I heard the funniestnoise--'ih-ih-ih--Ah-umph!' something like that. Then I knew it wasthe goat, that I'd heard pat-pat-pattering along the hall last nightand that I'd followed. And I guessed it was Jack, instead of aburglar, who'd rushed past me and locked me in. I was mighty glad tosee anybody, even a goat, and I opened the gate to the place and Baaljumped out. He was tied to that board--he'd pulled it off the gate,and was as glad to see me as I was him. That little sort of cupboard,or cubby-hole, had lots of excelsior in it; I guess it had come aroundcrockery or something, and that was where Baal slept. There was a tinbox there, too, and I opened it. I was glad enough then! For it washalf full of cakes and apples and a lemon pie, that you call a'Christchurch' up here in Canada; and before I knew it Baal had hisnose in the box, like he was used to eating out of it, and I had toslap his nose to make him let me have a share. So I'm not hungry andall I care is that I have made you all so worried."
But already that was almost forgotten, though Miss Muriel's curiositywas not yet satisfied.
"Jack, are you in the habit of keeping that animal here, in thisroom?"
"Yes--yes, Ma'am; times I am. Other times he stays in the oldshed down by the brook. Most of the men knew I had him; Michaeldid, anyhow. He never said nothing again' it;" answered the boy,defiantly, trying to shift responsibility to the old porter, themost trusted s
ervant of the house.
"No, I cannot imagine Michael meddling with you and your foolishness;and for a lad who's lived so long at a great school, I wonder to hearsuch bad grammar from your lips. How did you get Baal into this roomwithout being detected in it?"
"Why, Ma'am, that was easy as preachin'. That back end, outside steps,what leads up from the ground for carrying up wet clothes, it used tobe. He comes up that way, for goats can climb any place. Leastwise,Baal can, and the door's never locked no more, 'cause I lost the key;"answered Jack, who was now the center of attention and proud of thefact.
"Very well, Jack. That will do. Kindly see to it that Baal ispermanently removed from Oak Knowe, and--" She paused for a moment, asif about to add more, then quietly moved away, with Dorothy beside herand all her now happy flock following.
Never before had the laughter and chatter of her girls sounded somusical in her ears, nor her own heart been lighter than now, in itsrebound from her recent anxiety. She wasn't pleased with Jack, theboot-boy; decidedly she was not pleased. She had not been since hisreturn from his summer's work, for he had not improved either inindustry or behavior. She had not liked the strange interest whichGwendolyn had taken in his slight gift for drawing, which thatenthusiastic young artist called "remarkable," but which this moreexperienced instructor knew would never amount to anything.
Yet that was a matter which could wait. Meanwhile, here was a brokenday, with everybody still so excited that lessons would be merelywasted effort; so, after she had sent Dorothy to put on her ordinaryschool dress, she informed the various classes that no more work wasrequired that day and that after lunch there would be half-holiday forall her pupils.
"Hurrah! Hurrah! Three cheers for Dolly and may she soon get lostagain!" shouted Winifred, and, for once, was not rebuked because ofunladylike manners.
Left to himself, Jack regarded his beloved Baal, in keen distress.
"Said you'd got to go, did she? Well, if you go I do, too. Anyhow I'msick to death of cleaning nasty girls', or nasty shoes o' a lot o'girls--ary way you put it. Boot-boy, Baal! Think o' that. If thatain't a re--restrick-erated life for a artist, like Miss Gwen says Iam; or uther a dectective gentleman--I'd like to know. No, sir, Baal!We'll quit an' we'll do it to once. Maybe they won't feel sorry whenthey find me gone an' my place empty to the table! Maybe them girlsthat laughed when that old schoolmarm was a pitchin' into me afore allthem giggling creatures, maybe they won't feel bad, a-lookin' at thathull row of shoes outside cubicle doors waiting to be cleaned and notone touched toward it! Huh! It'll do all them 'ristocratics good tohave to clean 'em themselves. All but Miss Gwendolyn. She's thelikeliest one of the hull three hundred. I hate--I kinder hate toleave her. 'Artists has kindred souls,' she said once when she wasshowin' me how to draw that skull. Who can tell? I might get to bemore famouser'n her, smart as she is; an' I might grow up, and hertoo, and I might come to her house--or is it a turreted castle?--an' Imight take my fa--famousness an' offer it to her to marry me! Andthen, when her folks couldn't hardly believe that I was I, and her oldboot-boy, maybe they'd say 'Yes, take her, my son! I'm proud towelcome into our 'ristocraticy one that has riz from a boot-boy to ourrank!' Many a story-book tells o' such doings, an' what's in themought to be true. Good for 't I can buy 'em cheap. The Bishop caughtme reading one once and preached me a reg'lar sermon about it. Saidthat such kind of literatoor had ruined many a simple fellow and wouldme if I kep' on. But even Bishops don't know everything, though Iallow he's a grand old man. I kind of sorter hate to leave Oak Knoweon his account, he takes such an int'rest in me. But he'll get overit. He'll have to, for we're going, Baal an' me, out of this housewhere we're wastin' our sweetness on the desert air. My jiminycricket! If a boy that can paint pictures and recite poetry like Ican, can't rise above shoe-cleanin' and get on in this world--I'd liketo know the reason why! Come, Baal! I'll strap my clothes in a bundle,shake the dust of old Oak Knowe offen me, and hie away to seek myfortune--and your'n."
Nobody interfering, Jack proceeded to put this plan into action; butit was curious that, as he reached the limits of Oak Knowe grounds, heturned and looked back on the big, many-windowed house, and at thethrongs of happy girls who were at "recreation" on the well-keptlawns. A sort of sob rose in his throat and there was a strangesinking in his stomach that made him most uncomfortable. He couldn'ttell that this was "homesickness," and he tried to forget it inbitterness against those whom he was deserting.
"They don't care, none of 'em! Not a single mite does anyone of them'ristocratics care what becomes of--of poor Jack, the boot-boy! Comeon, Baal! If we don't start our seekin' pretty quick--Why jiminycricket I shall be snivellin'!"
Saying this, the self-exiled lad gripped the goat's leading strap andset out at a furious pace down the long road toward the distant city.He had a dime novel in one pocket, an English sixpence in another--Andwhat was this?
"My soul! If there ain't the key to that old door they broke in to seewhat was racketing round so! I wonder if I ought to take it back?Baal, what say? That cubby of our'n wasn't so bad. You know, Baal, Iwouldn't like to be a thief--not a reg'lar thief that'd steal a key.Course I wouldn't. Anyhow, I've left, I've quit. I'm seekin' myfortune--understand? Whew! The wind's risin'. I allow there's going tobe a storm. I wish--Old Dawkins used to say: 'Better take two thoughtsto a thing!' an' maybe, maybe, if I'd ha' waited a spell afore--I meanI wouldn't ha' started fortune-seekin' till to-morrow and the stormover. Anyhow, I've really started, though! And if things don't happento my mind, I can show 'em what an honest boy I am by takin' back thatkey. Come on, Baal, do come on! What in creation makes you drag so onthat strap and keep lookin' back? Come on, I say!"
Then, both helping and hindering one another, the lad and his petpassed out of sight and for many a day were seen no more in thatlocality.
Yet the strange events of that memorable day were not all over. Atstudy hour, that evening, came another surprise--a visit to her matesof the invalid Gwendolyn. From some of them she received only a silentnod of welcome; but Laura, Marjorie, and Dorothy sprang to meet herwith one accord, and Winifred followed Dorothy's example after asecond's hesitation.
"Oh, Gwen! How glad we are to have you back! Are you sure you're quitestrong enough to come?" questioned Marjorie, while less judiciousLaura exclaimed:
"But you can't guess what you've missed! We've had the greatest scareever was in this school! You'd ought to have come down sooner. What doyou think it was that happened? Guess--quick--right away! Or I can'twait to tell! I'll tell anyhow! Dorothy was lost and everybody fearedshe had been killed! Yes, Gwen, lost all the long night through andhad to sleep with the goat and--"
Gwendolyn's face was pale from her confinement in the sick room but itgrew paler now, and catching Dorothy's hand she cried out:
"Oh! what if I had been too late!"
Nobody understood her, not even Dorothy herself, who merely guessedthat Gwen was referring to their interview of the night before; butshe didn't know this proud girl fully, nor the peculiar nature of thatpride which, once aroused, compelled her to do what she most shrankfrom. As Dorothy pushed a chair forward, Gwendolyn shook her head.
"Thank you, but not yet. I've got something to say--that all of youmust hear."
Of course, everybody was astonished by this speech and every eyeturned toward the young "Peer" who was about to prove herself of noble"rank" as never in all her life before.
Dorothy began to suspect what might be coming and by a silent clasp ofGwendolyn's waist and a protesting shake of her head tried to preventher saying more.
But Gwendolyn as silently put aside the appealing arm and folding herown arms stood rigidly erect. It wouldn't have been the real Gwen ifshe hadn't assumed this rather dramatic pose, which she had mentallyrehearsed many times that day. Also, she had chosen this quiet hourand place as the most effective for her purpose, and she had almostcoerced Lady Jane into letting her come.
"Schoolmates and friends, I want to confess to you the meanest thingsthat ever were do
ne at dear Oak Knowe. From the moment she came hereI disliked Dorothy Calvert and was jealous of her. In less than a weekshe had won Miss Muriel's heart as well as that of almost everybodyelse. I thought I could drive her out of the school, if I made therest of you hate her, too. I'd begun to teach the boot-boy to draw,having once seen him attempting it. I painted him a death's head for acopy, and gave him my pocket-money to buy a mask of the Evil One."
"Oh! Gwendolyn how dared you? You horrid, wicked girl!" cried gentleMarjorie, moved from her gentleness for once.
"Well, I'll say this much in justice to myself. That thing wentfurther than I meant, which was only to have him put pictures of itaround in different places. He'd told me about keeping a goat in theold drying-room, and of course he couldn't always keep it still. Thekitchen folks put the pictures and the goat's noises together anddeclared the house was haunted. I told the maids that they might laythat all to the new scholar from the States, and a lot of thembelieved me."
Even loyal Laura now shrank aside from her paragon, simply horrified.She had helped to spread the rumor that Dorothy was a niece ofDawkins, but she had done no worse than that. It had been left toJack-boot-boy to finish the contemptible acts. He got phosphorus fromthe laboratory, paint from any convenient color box, and his firstsuccess as a terrifier had been in the case of Millikins-Pillikins, atwhose bed he had appeared--with the results that have been told. Heit had been who had frightened the maid into leaving, and had spreadconsternation in the kitchen.
"And in all these things he did, I helped him. I planned some of thembut he always went ahead and thought worse ones out. Yet nobody,except the simpletons below stairs, believed it was Dorothy who had'bewitched' the house," concluded that part of Gwendolyn's confession.
Yet still she stood there, firmly facing the contempt on the faces ofher schoolmates, knowing that that was less hard to bear than her ownself-reproach had been. And presently she went on:
"Then came that affair at the Maiden's Bath. Dorothy Calvert, whom Istill hated, saved my life--while she might have lost her own. What Ihave suffered since, knowing this and how bravely she had borne all myhatefulness and had sacrificed herself for me--You must guess that. Ican't tell it. But last night I made myself beg her pardon in privateas I now beg it before you all. May I yet have the chance to do to heras she has done to me! Dorothy Calvert--will you forgive me?"