CHAPTER XVIII

  Light

  Ulyth walked from the study feeling that she had told far more than shewished.

  "I've given Rona away," she said to herself. "Miss Bowes is thinking thevery worst of her, I know. Oh dear! I wish she'd explain, and not keepup this dreadful silence. It's so unlike her. She's generally almost tooready to talk. If I could see her even for a few minutes I believe shewould tell me. Perhaps Miss Teddington frightened her. Poor Rona! Shemust be so utterly miserable. Could I possibly get a word with her, Iwonder?"

  She talked the matter over with Lizzie.

  "If I ask Miss Bowes, she'll probably say no," lamented Ulyth.

  "Then I shouldn't ask," returned Lizzie. "We've not been definitelyforbidden to see Rona."

  "The door's locked."

  "You've only to climb out of the linen-room window on to the roof of theveranda."

  "Why, so I could. Oh, I must speak to her!"

  "I think you are justified, if you can get anything out of her. She'dtell you better than anybody else in the whole school."

  "I'll try my luck then."

  "I'll stand in the garden below and shout 'Cave!' if I hear anyonecoming."

  To help her unfortunate room-mate seemed the first consideration toUlyth, and she thought the end certainly justified the means. She waiteduntil after the tea interval, when most of the girls would be playingtennis or walking in the glade; then, making sure that Lizzie waswatching in the garden below, she stole upstairs to the linen-room. Itwas quite easy to drop from the window on to the top of the veranda, andnot very difficult, in spite of the slope, to walk along to the end ofthe roof. Here an angle of the old part of the house jutted out, and theopen window of Rona's prison faced her only a couple of yards away. Shecould not reach across the gap, but conversation would be perfectlypossible.

  "Rona!" she called cautiously. "Rona!"

  There was a movement inside the room, and a face appeared at the window.Rona's eyes were red and swollen with crying, and her hair hung in wilddisorder. At the sight of Ulyth she started, and stared ratherdefiantly.

  "Rona! Rona, dear! I've been longing to see you. I felt I must speak toyou."

  No reply. Rona, in fact, turned her back.

  "I'm so dreadfully sorry," continued Ulyth. "I've been thinking aboutyou all day. It's no use keeping this up. Do confess and have done withit."

  Rona twisted round suddenly and faced Ulyth.

  "Rona! You'd be so much happier if you'd own up you'd taken it. Surelyyou only meant it as a joke on Stephie? Miss Bowes will forgive you. Forthe sake of the school, do!"

  Then Rona spoke.

  "You ask me to confess--you, of all people!" she exclaimed withunconcealed bitterness.

  "Yes, dear. I can't urge it too strongly."

  "You want me to tell Miss Bowes that I took that pendant?"

  "There's no sense in concealing it, Rona."

  The Cuckoo's eyes blazed. Her hands gripped the window-sill.

  "Oh, this is too much! It's the limit! I couldn't have believed itpossible! You, Ulyth! you to ask me this! How can you? How dare you?"

  Ulyth gazed at her in perplexity. She could not understand such anoutburst.

  "Surely I, your own chum, have the best right to speak to you for yourown good?"

  "My own good!" repeated Rona witheringly. "Yours, you mean. Oh yes, it'sall very fine for you, no doubt! You're to get off scot free."

  "I? What are you talking about?"

  "Don't pretend you don't understand. You atrocious sneak andhypocrite--you took the pendant yourself!"

  If she had been accused of purloining the Crown jewels from the Tower ofLondon, Ulyth could not have been more astonished.

  "I----!" she stammered. "I----!"

  "Yes, you, and you know it. I saw you."

  "You couldn't!"

  "But I did, or as good as saw you. Who came into our room last night, Ishould like to know, when Miss Lodge had sent me to bed, and slippedsomething into one of the blouses hanging behind the door? I'd forgottenby the morning, but I remembered when the pendant came jerking out of mypocket."

  "Certainly I didn't put it there!"

  "But you did. You came into the room, took off your outdoor coat, andthrew it on your bed. I got up, afterwards, and hung it up in yourwardrobe for you. Irene told me how you'd joined the cake club. She saidyou had the password quite pat."

  Ulyth was too aghast to answer. Rona, once she had broken silence,continued in a torrent of indignation.

  "You a Torch-bearer! You might well ask me not to expose you! 'Rememberthe Camp-fire,' you said. Yes, it's because of the Camp-fire, and forthe sake of the school, that I've kept your secret. Don't be afraid. I'mnot going to tell. It wouldn't be good for the League if a Torch-bearertoppled down so low! It doesn't matter so much for only a Wood-gatherer.I won't betray a chum--I've brought that much honour from the Bush; butI'll let you know what I think about you, at any rate."

  Then, her blaze of passion suddenly fading, she burst into tears.

  "Ulyth, Ulyth, how could you?" she sobbed. "You who taught me everythingthat was good. I believed in you so utterly, I'd never have thought itof you. Oh, why----"

  "Cave! cave!" shouted Lizzie excitedly below. "Cave! Teddie herself!"

  Ulyth turned and fled with more regard for speed than safety along theveranda roof, and scrambled through the window into the linen-roomagain. She was trembling with agitation. Such an extraordinarydevelopment of the situation was as appalling as it was unexpected. Shemust have time to think it over. She could not bear to speak to anybodyabout it at present, not even to Lizzie. No, she must be alone. She ranquickly downstairs, and, before Lizzie had time to find her, dived underthe laurels of the shrubbery and made her way first down the garden andthen to the very bottom of the paddock that adjoined the high road.There was a little copse here, of trees and low bushes, which shelteredher from all observation. Nobody was likely to come and disturb her, forthe girls preferred the glade, and seldom troubled to enter the paddock.She flung herself down on the grass and tried to face the matter calmly.She had begged Rona to confess, and Rona in return had accused her oftaking the pendant. This was turning the tables with a vengeance. Howcould her room-mate have become possessed of such a preposterous idea?And in what a web of mystery the affair seemed involved! One certaintycame as an immense relief. Rona was not guilty. More than this, she wasbehaving with an extraordinary amount of courage and loyalty.

  "She believes I took it, and yet she is bearing all the blame, andshielding me for the sake of the school," groaned Ulyth. "Oh, what mustshe be thinking of me! We're all at cross-purposes. Did she really fancythat when I said: 'Remember the Camp-fire', I was begging her to screenme? Somebody took the pendant and put it in her pocket; that's the uglypart of the business. It's throwing the blame from one to another. Whatwe've got to do is to find out the real guilty person, and that's notgoing to be easy, I'm afraid."

  Ulyth sighed and wiped her eyes. She had been deeply hurt at Rona'ssudden attack. It is humiliating to find that where you occupied apedestal you are now, even temporarily, a broken idol.

  "She's right to scorn me if she imagines I'm such a sneak, but how couldshe suppose I would? And yet I thought her guilty. Oh dear, it's ahorrible muddle! How shall we ever get it straight?"

  Ulyth sat thinking, thinking, and was no nearer to a solution of herproblem when she suddenly heard the brisk ringing of a bicycle-bell onthe road below. Springing up eagerly, she rushed to the wall, andshouted just in time to stop Mrs. Arnold, whose machine was whiskingpast.

  "Hallo, Ulyth! What are you doing there?"

  "I'm coming over. Do please wait for me!"

  And Ulyth, scrambling somehow across the wall, slid down a gravelly bankon to the road.

  "You're the one person in the world I want to see," she added, huggingher friend impetuously. "Oh, Mrs. Arnold, the most dreadful things havebeen happening at school! Somebody took Stephie's pendant, and it fellout of Rona's pock
et, and everybody thinks Rona took it, and Rona thinksit's me. What are we to do?"

  "Sit down here and tell me all about it. Yes, please, begin at the verybeginning, and don't leave anything out, however trivial. Sometimes thelittle things are the most important. Cheer up, child! We'll get to thebottom of it, never fear."

  Sitting on the bank, with Mrs. Arnold's arm round her, Ulyth related thewhole of her story, mentioning every detail she could remember. It wassuch a comfort to pour it out into sympathetic ears, and to one whosejudgment was more likely to be unbiased than that of anyone connectedwith the school.

  "You always understand," she said, with a sigh of relief, as she kissedthe hand that was holding hers.

  "It certainly is a tangled skein to unravel; but, as it happens, Ireally believe I can throw a little light upon the matter. You say Ronatold you that somebody came into her bedroom last night, and presumablyhid the pendant in her blouse pocket?"

  "Yes; and she was sure that somebody was myself."

  "Then what we have to do is to produce the real culprit."

  "If we can find her."

  "Just now I was wheeling my bicycle up Tyn y Bryn Hill, and I met oneof the boys from Jones's farm. He stopped me and handed me a letter. 'Agirl gave it to me five minutes ago,' he said. 'She asked me if I wasgoing to the village, and if I'd post it for her; so I promised I would.But it's addressed to you, so I may as well give it to you as post it,and save the stamp.' I read the letter, and it puzzled me extremely. Ihardly knew what to make of it; but since you've told me about thependant I think I begin to understand its meaning. You shall see it foryourself."

  Mrs. Arnold spread out the letter on her knee, so that Ulyth might readit. It was written on village note-paper, in a childish hand, with nostops.

  "DEAR MRS ARNOLD

  "this comes hoping to find you as well as it leves me at present i am in dredful trubble and i cannot stay here eny longer dear Mrs Arnold after what cook said this afternoon i am sure she knows all and i daresunt tell miss Bowes but you are the camp fire lady and i feel i must say goodbye to ease your mind dear Mrs Arnold wen you get this letter I shall be Far Away as it says in the song you tort us by the stream and you will never see me agen but i shall think of you alwus and the camp fire and i wish i hadn't dun it only I was skared to deth for she said she wuld half kill me and she alwus keeps her wurd your obedient servant Susannah Maude Hawley."

  "Susannah Maude!" exclaimed Ulyth. "I never even thought of her. Is itpossible that she could have taken the pendant?"

  "From the letter it looks rather like it. It is very mysterious, and Icannot understand it all; but the girl appears to have done somethingshe shouldn't, and to have run away."

  "Where has she run to?"

  "She can't have gone very far. She evidently did not mean me to receivethis letter until to-morrow morning, as she asked Idwal Jones to postit. He forestalled her intention by giving it to me now. It's a mostfortunate thing, as we may be able to overtake her. She is probablywalking to Llangarmon, and cannot have gone more than a few miles bythis time. I shall follow her at once on my machine, and shall mostlikely come up with her before she even reaches Coed Glas."

  "Oh, let me go with you!" pleaded Ulyth, starting to her feet andseizing the bicycle. "I could ride on the carrier. I've often done itbefore. Oh, please, please!"

  "What about school rules?"

  "Miss Bowes wouldn't mind if you took me. Just this once!"

  "Well, I suppose my shoulders are broad enough to bear the blame if weget into trouble about it."

  "Oh, we shan't! We must find Susannah Maude. Miss Bowes would want us tostop her running away."

  "Come along then, and mind you balance yourself, so that you don't upsetus."

  "Trust me!" chuckled Ulyth delightedly.

  Back along the road by which she had come sped Mrs. Arnold, past thelane that led to her own house, and away in the direction of Llangarmon.Ulyth managed to stick on without impeding her progress, and felt adelirious joy in the stolen expedition. To be out with her dear Mrs.Arnold on such an exciting adventure was an hour worth remembering. Shecould not often get the Guardian of the Fire all to herself in thisglorious fashion. She would be the envy of the school when she returned.Susannah Maude was apparently a quick walker. They passed through thehamlet of Coed Glas, and were half a mile beyond before they caughtsight of the odd little figure trudging on ahead. They overtook herexactly on the bridge that crossed the Llyn Mawr stream.

  As Mrs. Arnold dismounted and called her by name, Susannah Maudestarted, uttered a shriek, and apparently for a moment contemplatedcasting herself into the stream below. The Guardian of the Fire,however, seized her firmly by the arm, and, drawing her to the lowparapet, made her sit down.

  "Now tell me all about it," said Mrs. Arnold encouragingly, seatingherself by her side. For answer Susannah Maude wept unrestrainedly, thehot tears dripping down her hard little cheeks into her rough littlehands.

  Mrs. Arnold waited with patience till the storm had subsided, then shebegan to put questions.

  "Did you take the young lady's locket, Susan?"

  "Yes, I did; but I didn't want to. I wouldn't if I hadn't been soscared. I'm scared to death now as she'll find me."

  "You needn't be afraid of Miss Bowes."

  "I ain't. Leastways not so bad. It's her I'm feared of."

  "Whom do you mean, child?"

  "Her--my mother."

  "I didn't know you had a mother. I thought you were an orphan," burstout Ulyth.

  "I wish I was. No, my father and mother wasn't dead--they was bothserving time when I was sent to the Home. When Mother come out she gotto know where I was, and she kept an eye on me; then when I comes hereto a situation she turns up one day at the back door and says she wantsmy wages. I give her all I got; but that didn't satisfy her--not much!She was always hanging about the place. She used to come and sell sweetsand cakes, unbeknown-like, to the young ladies."

  "Was that your mother? The gipsy woman with the basket?" exclaimedUlyth.

  "That was her, sure enough. She pestered me all the time for money, andthen when she found I'd got none left she said I must bring hersomething instead. 'The young ladies must have heaps of brooches andlockets, and things they don't want, so just you fetch me one,' sez she;'and if you don't I'll catch you and half kill you.' Oh, I can tell youI was scared to death! I don't want not to be honest; but she'd halfkilled me once or twice before, when I was a kid, and I know what herhand's like when she uses it."

  "So you took something?"

  "Yes. I waited till the young ladies was all at supper; then I got downone of their coats from the pegs in the corridor and slipped it over myblack dress and apron, and I put on one of their hats. I thought if Iwas seen upstairs they'd take me for one of themselves. I went into thestudio, and there, right opposite on a little table, was that kind oflocket thing. I slipped it in my pocket, and looked round the room. Ifthere wasn't another just like it on the bench! I took that, and put iton the table. It wasn't likely, perhaps, it would be missed as quick asthe other. Then I thought I'd better be going. I was just walking downthe landing when I hears a step, and darts into one of the bedrooms.'Suppose they catches me,' thinks I, 'with one of the young ladies'coats and hats on and the locket in my hand!' There was a blouse hangingbehind the door, with a little pocket just handy, so I stuffed thelocket down into that; then I pulled off the coat and threw it on thebed, and flung the hat out of the window. I thought if anyone came inand found me I'd say I'd been sent to refill the water-jug. But thesteps went on, and I rushed out and downstairs, and left the locketwhere it was. I was so scared I didn't know what I was doing."

  "Gracie found her hat in the garden this morning," gasped Ulyth. "Shewondered how it got there."

  "But what made you run away?" asked Mrs. Arnold, returning to the mainquestion. "Did you think you were suspected?"

  "Not till this afternoon. Then the servants were all talking in thekitchen about ho
w one of the young ladies was supposed to have takenwhat they called a 'pendon' or something, and Cook looked straight at meand says: 'If anything's missing, it's not one of the young ladiesthat's got it, I'll be bound.' And I turned red and run out of thekitchen. My mother'd said she'd be coming round this evening, and howwas I going to meet her with no locket? So I says, there's nothing elsefor it, I'd best go back to the Home. Miss Bankes, she was good to me,and Mother daresn't show her face there. So I wrote a letter, and askedJones's boy to post it. I didn't think you'd get it till to-morrow."

  "Very fortunately I received it at once. You must come back with us nowto The Woodlands, Susan. We shall all have to walk, for the bicyclewon't take three."

  "I'll wheel it," cried Ulyth joyfully.

  "She'll half kill me to-night," quavered poor Susannah Maude. "Do let mego to the Home!"

  "Your mother shall not have a chance of coming near you. You must tellall this to Miss Bowes; then to-morrow, if you wish, you may be sentback to the Orphanage."

  No successful scouts could have returned to camp with more triumph thanMrs. Arnold and Ulyth, as, very late and decidedly tired, they arrivedat The Woodlands to relate their surprising story. Miss Bowes sent atonce for Rona, and in the presence of the Principals the whole matterwas carefully explained to the satisfaction of all parties, even poorweeping Susannah Maude.

  "I am very glad to find the motive for which Rona kept silence was sogood a one," commented Miss Teddington. "She has shown her loyalty bothto her friend and to the school."

  Dismissed with honour from the study, Ulyth and Rona were hugging eachother in the privacy of the boot cupboard.

  "Can you ever forgive all the horrible things I said?" implored Rona. "Ithink I was off my head. I might have known it wasn't--couldn't bepossible; you are you--the one girl I've been trying to copy ever sinceI came here."

  "You've quite as much to forgive me, dear, and I beg your pardon. I'm soglad it's all straight and square now."

  "You darling! I don't mind telling you it was Tootie who gave me thosechocolates."

  "Didn't you buy them from the cake-woman?"

  "I never bought anything from her. I didn't join the cake club."

  "Then how did she get hold of your New Zealand brooch? She showed it tome."

  "Why, I'd swopped that brooch with Tootie for a penknife ages ago. We'realways swopping our things in IV B."

  "The whole business seems to have been a comedy of errors," said Ulyth."Some mischievous Puck threw dust in our eyes and blinded us to thetruth."

  After all, it was the juniors that suffered most, for Miss Teddington,who had been very angry at the whole affair, turned the vials of herwrath upon them, and took them to task for their illicit traffic incakes. This, at any rate, she was determined to punish, and not asolitary sinner was allowed to escape. Tootie, the original leader inrebellion, issued from her interview in the study such a crushed worm asto stifle any lingering seeds of mutiny among her crestfallen followers.

  "What's to become of Susannah Maude?" asked everybody; and Miss Bowesanswered the question.

  "I am taking the poor child back to the Orphanage. I have told thepolice to warn her disreputable mother from this neighbourhood; but, asone can never be certain when she might turn up again, we must removeSusan altogether out of reach of her evil influence. A party of girlswill be sent from the Home very soon to Canada, and we shall arrange forher to join them and emigrate to a new country, where she will be placedin a good situation on a farm and well looked after. She is not really adishonest girl, and has a very grateful and affectionate disposition. Iam confident that she will do us credit in the New World, and turn out auseful and happy citizen. Why yes, girls, if you like to make her alittle good-bye present before she sails, you may do so. It is a kindthought, and I am sure she will appreciate it greatly."

  "There's only one item not yet wiped out on the slate," said Ulyth toLizzie. "Perhaps I ought to report myself for walking along the verandaroof. I'd feel more comfortable!"

  "Go ahead, then! Teddie's at the confessional now."

  "It's never been exactly forbidden," said Ulyth, with a twinkle in hereye, after she had stated the extent of her enormity to Miss Teddington.

  "I would as soon have thought of forbidding you to climb the chimneys!It was a dangerous experiment, and certainly must not be repeated. I'msurprised at a senior! No, as you have told me yourself, I will notenter it in your conduct-book. Please don't parade the roofs in future.Now you may go."

  "Got off even easier than I expected," rejoiced Ulyth to the waitingLizzie. "Teddie's bark's always worse than her bite."

  "We've found that out long ago," agreed Lizzie.