CHAPTER VII
ALL HALLOW EVE FESTIVITIES
"I'm going to choose Queen Bess! I've made a lovely ruff, stands awayup above my head. And Mrs. Archibald, the matron, has bought me fouryards of chintz that might be brocade--if it was!" said FloritaSheraton, from the gymnasium floor, hugging her arms for warmth.
"Four yards! That'll never go around you, Fatty!" declared FannyDimock, with playful frankness.
"Well, it'll have to go as far as it may, then. It cost twenty cents.That left five only for the white and gilt paper for my ruff andcrown."
"Was Queen Elizabeth fat?" asked Dorothy, from her now favorite perchupon the high wooden horse.
"What does that matter, whether she were or not? The plot is to actlike a Queen when once you get her clothes on," observed Winifred,judicially. "I wonder if you can do that, Flo. Or if it needs anotheryard of cloth to make you real stately--she ought to have a train,oughtn't she--I might lend you another sixpence. If Miss Muriel wouldlet me."
"Don't ask for it, Win. You've done so splendidly ever since--"
"That time I didn't! Well, I'd rather not ask for it. Twenty-fivecents was the limit she set."
"Wants to stimulate our ingenuity, maybe, to see how well we can dresson twenty-five cents a week!" laughed Ernesta Smith, who had noingenuity at all. "If it weren't for Dolly here, I'd have to give itup, but she's fixed me a lovely, spooky rig that'll just make you allgoose-fleshy."
"What is it? Tell," begged the others, but Ernesta shook her head."No, indeedy! It's the chance of my life to create an impression and Ishan't spoil it beforehand. It'll be all the more stunning because I'msuch a bean-pole. Dorothy says that Florrie and I must walk togetherin the parade."
"Oh! I hope it will be a grand success!" cried Winifred, seizingBessie Walters and going through a lively calisthenic exercise withher. "We've always wanted to have a Hallowe'en Party, but the facultyhave never before said yes. It's all Dorothy's doings that we have itnow."
A shadow fell over Dolly's bright face. It was quite true that she hadsuggested this little festivity to the good Bishop. She had told himother things as well which hurt him to hear and made him the morewilling to consent to any bit of gayety she might propose. She hadsaid:
"There is somebody in this school that doesn't like me. Yes, dearBishop, it's true; though I don't know who and I've tried to befriendly to everybody. That is to all I know. The high-up Form girlsdon't appear to see me at all, though they're friendly enough withlots of the other younger ones. I heard Edna Ross-Ross saying toanother that all the strange, horrid things that had happened at OakKnowe this autumn began with my coming. She'd been told that I was acharity scholar, belonging to one of the servants. She didn't objectto charity girls, so long as she knew they were of _good_ family, butshe drew the line at _servants'_ families. She said that Gwendolyn hadheard you, yourself, tell Miss Tross-Kingdon that I was mischievousand she must look out for me."
"My dear, my dear! Surely no fair-minded girl could have somisunderstood me, even admitting that I did say that--which I fail toremember. As to that silly notion about the 'haunting' business, BettyCalvert's niece should be able to laugh at that. Absurd, absurd! Nowtell me again what your fancy is about this Hallowe'en Party."
"Why, sir, things can't be done without folks do them, can they?"
"That's a poser; but I'll grant your premises. Proceed with theargument," answered the old gentleman, merrily.
"Well, I thought, somehow, that if everybody was allowed to dress incharacter and wear some sort of a mask, the one who had played suchpranks and frightened Grace and the maids might be found out. Ifanybody in this house owns such a mask as that horrid one and is meanenough to scare little girls, he or she wouldn't lose so good a chanceof scaring a lot more. Don't you think so? And--and--there's somethingelse I ought to tell, but am afraid. Miss Muriel gets so stern everytime the thing is mentioned that I put it off and off. I can tell youthough, if you wish."
"Certainly, I wish you would."
The gentleman's face had grown as serious now, and almost as stern, asthe Lady Principal's at similar times; and Dorothy gave a sigh tobolster her own courage as she gravely announced:
"When I took out my white shoes to wear them last evening, there was askull and cross-bones on each one, done with red paint: and the tubeof vermilion had been taken from my own oil color box. Now--what doyou think of that?"
Her listener pursed his lips in a silent whistle, which indicatedgreat amazement in a man like him, but he said nothing. Only, for amoment he drew the girl to him and looked searchingly into her browneyes. But they looked back at him with a clear, straightforward gazethat pleased him and made him exclaim:
"Well, little Betty--whom you always seem to me--we're in a scrapeworthy of old Bellevieu. We've got to get out of it, somehow. You tryyour scheme of playing masked detective first. If you fail in provingour innocence and some other youngster's roguery, I'll tackle thematter myself. For this nonsense is hurtful to Oak Knowe. That I amcompelled to admit. 'Behold how great a matter a little firekindleth.' A miserable rumor started has wide-spread effect. I couldpreach you a sermon on that topic, but I won't. Run along back to yourmates and try it. Just whisper 'Hallowe'en Party' to any one of themand see if every girl at Oak Knowe doesn't know beforehand that afterchapel, to-night, the Lady Principal will announce this intendedevent. Now, good day, my dear 'Betty,' and for the present, to obligeme, just put those decorated shoes out of sight."
This talk had been two days before: and with the Lady Principal'sannouncement of the affair had been coupled the decision:
"Those of you young ladies that have no costume suitable may expendtheir week's allowance in material for one. Of course, this restrictsthe expense to utmost simplicity. No one may run in debt, nor borrowmore than suggestions from her neighbors. Under these conditions Ihope you will have the happy time you anticipate."
So they were dismissed in gay spirits, to gather in groups everywhereto discuss costumes and the possibility of evolving a fetching one atthe modest cost of a quarter dollar. By the afternoon following, mostof the preparations had been made. Some of the maids had lent a handto the sewing and the good-natured matron had planned and purchasedand cut till her arms ached. But she had entered into the spirit ofthe occasion as heartily as any girl of them all; and the sixth andseventh Form students, who rather fancied themselves too grown-up forsuch frivolity, had willingly helped the preparations of the lowerschool pupils.
Only one who might have enjoyed the fun was out of it. Gwendolyn wasin the hospital, in the furthest west wing: for the time being anervous and physical wreck from her experience at the Maiden's Bath.Even yet nobody dared speak to her of that terrible time, for it madeher so hysterical; and for some reason she shrank from Dorothy'svisits of inquiry and sympathy more than from any other's. But thisseemed ungrateful to Lady Jane, her mother, now in residence at theschool to care for and be near her daughter. She determined this"nonsense" must be overcome and had especially begged Dolly to come tothe sick room, dressed for the party, and to relate in detail all thathad happened on that dreadful day.
So Dorothy had slipped away from her mates, to oblige Lady Jane, butdreading to meet the girl she had saved, yet who still seemed todislike her. She wore her gipsy costume of scarlet, a little costumethat she had worn at home at a similar party, and a dainty scarletmask would be added later on. She looked so graceful and winsome, asshe tapped at the door, that Lady Jane exclaimed as she admitted her:
"Why, you darling! What a picture you have made of yourself! I mustgive you a good kiss--two of them! One for myself and Gwen and one forthe Aunt Betty you love."
Then the lady led her in to the low chair beside Gwen's bed, with atenderness so motherly that Dorothy lost all feeling of awkwardnesswith the sick girl.
"Now, my child, I must hear every detail of that afternoon. My darlingdaughter is really much better. I want her to get over this dread ofwhat is past, and safely so. I'm sure your story of the matter wi
llhelp her to think of it calmly."
She waited for Dorothy to begin, and at last she did, making as lightof the affair as of an ordinary playground happening.
"Why, it wasn't anything. Really, it wasn't, except that Gwen tooksuch a cold and grieved so because other folks had to find where thehidden cascade was. She just got so eager with her drawing that shedidn't notice how close she got to the edge of the rock. If I hadstayed awake, instead of going to sleep, I should have seen and caughther before she slipped. I can't forgive myself for that."
The Lady Jane shook a protesting head.
"That was no fault in you, Dorothy. Go on."
"When I waked up, she was in the water, and she didn't understand howto get out. She couldn't swim, you know, but I can. So, course, I justjumped in and caught her. There was a big branch bent down low and Icaught hold of that. She caught hold of me, but not both my arms, andso--so--I could pull us both out."
Dorothy did not add that her arm had been so strained she could notyet use it without pain.
"Oh! thank God for you, my dear!" cried the mother, laying her handupon Gwendolyn's shoulder, who had turned toward the wall and lay withher face hidden. "And after that? Somebody said you stripped off yourown jacket and wrapped it around her."
"It wasn't as nice as hers, but you see she was cold, and I thoughtshe wouldn't mind for once. I borrowed her bathrobe once and shedidn't like it, and now she'd borrowed my jacket and didn't like that,I suppose."
"Like it! Doubtless it helped to save her life, too, or her frompneumonia. Oh! if you hadn't been there! If--" sobbed the mother.
"But there wasn't any 'if,' Lady Jane; 'cause if I hadn't seen thefalls and made her see them, too, she wouldn't have been near hand. Ifshe'd gone with the girl she wanted to, nothing at all would havehappened. Some way it got mixed up so she had to walk with me andthat's all. Only once we got out of the water onto the ground, Istarted yelling, and I must have done it terrible loud. Else Mr. Hughwouldn't have heard me and followed my yells. He'd gone long past us,hunting with his gun, and he heard me and came hurrying to where thesound was. So he just put his coat around her and made her get up andwalk. He had to speak to her real cross before she would, she was sodazed and mis'able. But she did at last, and he knew all those woodsby heart. And the directions of them, which way was north, or south,or all ways.
"It was a right smart road he took for roughness, so that sometimes wegirls stumbled and fell, but he wouldn't stop. He kept telling usthat, and saying: 'Only a little further now!' though it did seem tothe end of the world. And by and by we came out of the woods to alevel road, and after a time to a little farmhouse. Mr. Hugh made thefarmer hitch up his horse mighty quick and wrap us in blankets anddrove us home--fast as fast. And, that's all. I'm sorry Gwendolyn tooksuch a cold and I hope when she gets well she'll forgive me for goingto sleep that time. And, please, Lady Jane, may I go now? Some of thegirls are waiting for me, 'cause they want me in the parade."
"Surely, my dear: and thank you for telling me so long a story. Iwanted it at first hands and I wanted Gwendolyn to hear it, too. Goodnight and a happy, happy evening. It's really your own party, I hear;begged by yourself from the Bishop for your schoolmates' pleasure. Itrust the lion's share of that pleasure may be your own."
As Dorothy left the room, with her graceful farewell curtsey, the girlon the bed turned back toward her mother and lifted a tear-wet face.
"Why, Gwen, dearest, surely she didn't make you nervous again, didshe? She described your accident so simply and in such a matter ofcourse way. She seemed to blame the whole matter on herself; first herdiscovery of the waterfall, then her falling asleep. She is a brave,unselfish girl. Hoping you 'would forgive' her--for saving yourlife!"
"Oh, mother, don't! You can't guess how that hurts me. 'Forgive her'!Can she ever in this world forgive me!" And again the invalid's facewas hidden in the covers, while her body shook with sobs; thatconvinced Lady Jane that nobody, not even her anxious self, knew howseriously ill her daughter was.
"My child, my child, don't grieve so! It is all past and gone. I madea mistake in forcing you to meet the companion of your disaster andhearing the story from her, but please do forget it for my sake. Youare well--or soon will be; and the sooner you gain some strength,you'll be as happy as ever."
"I shall never be happy again--never. I want to go away from here. Inever want to see Oak Knowe again!" wailed Gwendolyn with fresh tears.
"Go away? Why, darling, you have always been happier here than in anyother place. At home you complain of your brothers, and you think myhome rules harder than the Lady Principal's. Besides, I've justsettled the boys at school and with you here, I felt free to make allmy plans for a winter abroad. Don't be nonsensical. Don't spoileverything by foolishness concerning an accident that ended so well.I don't understand you, dearest, I certainly do not."
Assembly Hall had been cleared for the entertainment. Most of thechairs had been removed, only a row of them being left around thewalls for the benefit of the invited guests. These were the friendsand patrons of the school from the near by city and from the countryhouses round about.
Conspicuous among these was old John Gilpin in his Sunday suit, hislong beard brushed till each hair hung smooth and separate, his baldhead polished till it shone, and himself the most ill at ease of allthe company. Beside him sat the little widow, Robin's mother; withoutwhom, John had declared, he would "not stir hand nor hoof" toward anysuch frivolity, and the good Dame abetting him in the matter. She hadsaid:
"No, Mrs. Locke, no more he shall. I can't go, it's bread-settin'night, and with my being so unwieldy and awkward like--I'd ruther byfar stay home. Robin will be all right. The dear lad's become the veryapple of my eye and I e'enamost dread his gettin' well enough to go towork again. A bit of nonsense, like this of Dorothy's gettin'-up, 'lldo you more good nor medicine. I've said my say and leave it said. IfJohn could go in his clean smock, he'd be all right, even to face thatLady Principal that caught him cavortin' like a silly calf. But'twould be an obligement to me if you'd go along and keep him incountenance."
Of course, Mrs. Locke could do no less for a neighbor who had sobefriended her and Robin: so here she was, looking as much the lady inher cheap black gown as any richer woman there. Also, so absorbed shewas in keeping old John from trying to "cut and run," or doinganything else that would have mortified his wife.
The Lady Principal had herself hesitated somewhat before the cottagerswere invited, fearing their presence would be offensive to morearistocratic guests, but the good Bishop had heartily endorsedDorothy's plea for them and she accepted his decision.
In any case, she need not have feared. For suddenly there sounded fromthe distance the wailing of a violin, so weird and suggestive ofuncanny things, that all talking ceased and all eyes turned toward thewide entrance doors, through which the masqueraders must come.Everything within the great room had been arranged with due attentionto "effect." In its center a great "witches' caldron" hung suspendedfrom three poles, and a lantern hung above it, where the bobbing forapples would take place. Dishes of salt, witch-cakes of meal,jack-o'-lanterns dimly lighted, odors of brimstone, daubs ofphosphorus here and there--in fact, everything that the imaginationsof the maskers could conceive, or reading suggest as fit forHallowe'en, had been prepared.
The doleful music drew nearer and nearer and as the lights in the Hallwent out, leaving only the pale glimmer of the lanterns, even the mostindifferent guests felt a little thrill run through their nerves. Thenthe doors slowly opened and there came through them a ghostly companythat seemed endless. From head to foot each "ghost" was draped inwhite, even the extended hand which held a lighted taper was gloved inwhite, and the whole procession moved slowly to the dirge which theunseen musicians played.
After a circuit of the great room, they began a curious dance which,in reality, was a calisthenic movement familiar to the everyday lifeof these young actors, but, as now performed, seemed weird andnerve-trying even to themselves. Its effect
upon others was even morepowerful and upon John Gilpin, to send him into a shivering fit thatalarmed Mrs. Locke.
"Why, Mr. Gilpin, what's the matter? Are you ill?"
"Seems if--seems if--my last hour's come! Needn't tellme--them's--just--just plain schoolgirls! They--they're spooks rightout the graveyard, sure as preachin' and I wish--I hadn't come! Andthere's no end of 'em! And it means--somethin' terr'ble! I wish--doyou suppose--Ain't there a winder some'ers nigh? Is this Hall high up?Could I--could I climb out it?"
The poor little widow was growing very nervous herself. Hercompanion's positive terror was infecting her and she felt that ifthis were her promised "fun" she'd had quite enough of it, and wouldbe as glad as he to desert the gathering.
Suddenly the movement changed. The slowly circling ghosts fell intostep with the altered music, which, still a wailing minor, grew fastand faster, until with a crash its mad measure ended. At that instant,and before the lights were turned on, came another most peculiarsound. It was like the patter of small hoofs, the "ih-ih-ihing" ofsome terrified beast; and all ears were strained to listen whilethrough those open doors came bounding and leaping, as if to escapeits own self--What?
From her perch on Dr. Winston's knees, Miss Millikins-Pillikinsidentified it as:
"The debbil! The debbil!"
Old John sprang to his feet and shrieked, while, as if attracted byhis cry, the horrible object made straight for him and with onevicious thrust of its dreadful head knocked him down.