CHAPTER XX
A TIME OF DANGER
Fanny was left alone with Dickie. It was really awful to be quite alonein a room where a spider nearly the size of an egg had concealedhimself. If Dickie would only come out and show himself Fanny thoughtshe could fight him; but he was at once big enough to bite and terrifyher up to the point of danger, and small enough effectually to hide hispresence. Fanny was really nervous; all the events of the day hadconspired to make her so. She, who, as a rule, knew nothing whateverabout nerves, was oppressed by them now. There had been the meeting ofthe Specialities; there had been the blunt refusal to make Sibyl one oftheir number. Then there was the appalling fact that she (Fanny) wasturned out of her bedroom. There was also the unpleasantness of Sibyl'sinsurrection; and last, but not least, a spider had been put into herbed by those wicked girls.
Oh, what horrors all the Vivians were! What turmoil they had created inthe hitherto orderly, happy school! "No wonder I hate them!" thoughtFanny. "Well, I can't sleep here--that's plain." She stood by the fire.The fire began to get low; the hour waxed late. There was no soundwhatever in the house. Betty's beautiful room was in a distant wing. Thedoctors might consult in the adjoining room that used to be Fanny's asmuch as they pleased, but not one sound of their voices or footstepscould reach the girl. The other schoolgirls had gone to bed. They wereall anxious, all more or less unhappy; but, compared to Fanny, they wereblessed with sweet peace, and could slumber without any sense ofreproach.
Fanny found herself turning cold. She was also hungry. She looked at theclock on the mantelpiece; the hour was past midnight. As a rule, she wasin bed and sound asleep long before this time. Her cold and hunger madeher look at the fire; it was getting low.
Mrs. Haddo was so determined to give the girls of her school everypossible comfort that she never allowed them to feel cold in the house.The passages were therefore heated in winter-time with steam, and eachbedroom had its own cheery fire. The governesses were treated almostbetter than the pupils. But then people were not expected to sit up allnight.
Fanny opened the coal-hod, intending to put fresh coals on the dyingfire; but, to her distress, found that the hod was empty. This happenedto be a mistake on the part of the housemaid who had charge of thisspecial room.
Fanny felt herself growing colder and colder, and yet she dared not goto bed. She had turned on all the electric lights, and the room itselfwas bright as day. Suddenly she heard the sound of wheels crunching onthe gravel outside. She rushed to the window, and was relieved toobserve that the doctor's carriage was bowling down the avenue. Thedoctors had therefore gone. Miss Symes would come to bed very soon now.Perhaps Miss Symes would know how to catch Dickie. Anyhow, Fanny wouldnot be alone. She crouched in her chair near the dying embers of thefire. The minutes ticked slowly on until at last it was a quarter to oneo'clock. Then Miss Symes opened the door and came in. She hardly noticedthe fact that Fanny was up, and the further fact that her fire wasnothing but embers did not affect her in the very least. Her eyes werevery bright, and there were red spots on each cheek. The expression onher face brought Fanny to the momentary consciousness that they were allin a house where the great Angel of Death might enter at any moment.
Miss Symes sat down on the nearest chair, folded her hands on her lap,and looked at Fanny. "Well," she said, "have you nothing to ask me?"
"I am a very miserable girl!" said Fanny. "To begin with, I am hungry,for I scarcely ate any supper to-night; I did not care for the foodprovided by the Specialities. Hours and hours have passed by, and Icould not go to bed."
"And why not, Fanny?" asked Miss Symes. "Why did you stay up against therules? And why do you think of yourself in a moment like the present?"
"I am sorry," said Fanny; "but one must always think of one's self--atleast, I am afraid _I_ must. Not that I mean to be selfish," she added,seeing a look of consternation spread over Miss Symes's face. "The factis this, St. Cecilia, I have had the most horrible fright. Those ghastlylittle creatures the twins--the Vivian twins--brought a most enormousspider into your room, hid it in the center of my bed, and then ran awayagain. I never saw such a monster! I was afraid to go near the creatureat first; and when I did it looked at me--yes, absolutely looked at me!I turned cold with horror. Then, before I could find my voice, it beganto run--and towards me! Oh, St. Cecilia, I screamed! I did. Susie andOlive heard me, and came to the rescue. Of course they knew that thespider was Dickie, that horrid reptile those girls brought fromScotland. He has hidden himself somewhere in the room. The twinsthemselves said that his bite was dangerous, so I am quite afraid to goto bed; I am, really."
"Come, Fanny, don't talk nonsense!" said Miss Symes. "The poor littletwins are to be excused to-night, for they are really beside themselves.I have just left the poor little children, and Martha West is going tospend the night with them. Martha is a splendid creature!"
"I cannot possibly go to bed, Miss Symes."
"But you really must turn in. We don't want to have more illnesses inthe house than we can help; so, my dear Fanny, get between the sheetsand go to sleep."
"And you really think that Dickie won't hurt me?"
"Of course not; and you surely can take care of yourself. If you arenervous you can keep one of the electric lights on. Now, do go to bed. Iam going to change into a warm dressing-gown, for I want to help thenurse in Betty's room."
"And how is Betty?" asked Fanny in a low tone. "Why is there such afrightful fuss about her? Is she so very ill?"
"Yes, Fanny; your cousin, Betty Vivian, is dangerously ill. No one canquite account for what is wrong; but that her brain is affected there isnot the slightest doubt, and the doctor from London says that unless shegets relief soon he fears very much for the result. The child issuffering from a very severe shock, and to-morrow Mrs. Haddo intends tomake most urgent inquiries as to the nature of what went wrong. But Ineedn't talk to you any longer about her now. Go to bed and to sleep."
While Miss Symes was speaking she was changing her morning-dress andputting on a very warm woolen dressing-gown. The next minute she hadleft the room without taking any further notice of Fanny. Fanny,terrified, cold, afraid to undress, but unable from sheer sleepiness tostay up any longer, got between the sheets and soon dropped intoundisturbed slumber. If Dickie watched her in the distance he left heralone. There were worse enemies waiting to spy on poor Fanny than evenDickie.
In a school like Haddo Court dangerous illness must affect each memberof the large and as a rule deeply attached family. Betty Vivian had comelike a bright meteor into the midst of the school. She had delightedher companions; she had fascinated them; she had drawn forth love. Shecould do what no other girl had ever done in the school. No one supposedBetty to be free from faults, but every one also knew that her faultswere exceeded by her virtues. She was loved because she was lovable. Theonly one who really hated her was her cousin Fanny.
Now, Fanny knew well that inquiries would be made; for the favorite mustnot be ill if anything could be done to save her, nor must a stone beleft unturned to effect her recovery.
Fanny awoke the next morning with a genuine headache, fearing she knewnot what. The great gong which always awoke the school was not soundedthat day; but a servant came in and brought Fanny's hot water, wakingher at the same time. Fanny rubbed her eyes, tried to recall where shewas, and then asked the woman how Miss Vivian was.
"I don't know, miss. It's a little late, but if you are quick you'll bedown in hall at the usual time."
Fanny felt that she hated the woman. As she dressed, however, she forgotall about her, so intensely anxious was she to recover the packet fromits hiding-place in her own bedroom. She wondered much if she couldaccomplish this, and presently, prompted by the motto, "Nothing venture,nothing win," tidied her dress, smoothed back her hair, washed her face,tried to look as she might have looked on an ordinary morning, andfinding that she had quite ten minutes to spare before she must appearin hall, ran swiftly in the direction of her own room.
She wa
s sufficiently early to know that there was very little chance ofher meeting another girl en route, and even if she did she could easilyexplain that she was going to her room to fetch some article of wardrobewhich had been forgotten.
She reached the room. The door was shut. Very softly she turned thehandle; it yielded to her pressure, and she went in.
The nurse turned at once to confront her. "You mustn't come in here,miss."
"I just want to fetch something from one of my drawers; I won't make theslightest noise," said Fanny. "Please let me in."
Sister Helen said nothing further. Fanny softly opened one of thedrawers. She knew the exact spot where the packet lay hidden. A momentlater she had folded it up in some of her under-linen and conveyed itoutside the room without Sister Helen suspecting anything. As soon asshe found herself in the corridor she removed the packet from itswrappings and slipped it into her inner pocket. It must stay on herperson for the present, for in no other place could it possibly be safe.When she regained Miss Symes's room she found that lady already there.She was making her toilet.
"Why, Fanny," she said, "what have you been doing? You haven't, surely,been to your own room! Did Sister Helen let you in?"
"She didn't want to; but I required some--some handkerchiefs and thingsof that sort," said Fanny.
"Well, you haven't brought any handkerchiefs," said Miss Symes. "Youhave only brought a couple of night-dresses."
"Sister Helen rather frightened me, and I just took these and ran away,"answered the girl. Then she added, lowering her voice, "How is Bettyto-day?"
"You will hear all about Betty downstairs. It is time for you to go intothe hall. Don't keep me, Fanny."
Fanny, only too delighted, left the room. Now she was safe. The worst ofall could not happen to her. When she reached the great central hall,where the girls usually met for a few minutes before breakfast, sheimmediately joined a large circle of girls of the upper school. Theywere talking about Betty. Among the group was Sibyl Ray. Sibyl wascrying, and when Fanny appeared she turned abruptly aside as though shedid not wish to be seen. Fanny, who had been almost jubilant at havingsecured the packet, felt a new sense of horror at Sibyl's tears. Sibylwas the sort of girl to be very easily affected.
As Fanny came near she heard Susie Rushworth say to Sibyl, "Yes, it istrue; Betty has lost something, and if she doesn't find it she will--thedoctor, the great London doctor, says that she will--die."
Sibyl gave another great, choking sob.
Fanny took her arm. "Sibyl," she said, "don't you want to come for awalk with me during recess this morning?"
"Oh, I don't know, Fanny!" said poor Sibyl, raising her eyes, streamingwith tears, to Fanny's face.
"Well, I want you," said Fanny. Then she added in a low tone, "Don'tforget Brighton and Aunt Amelia, and the excellent time you will have,and the positive certainty that before a year is up you will be aSpeciality. Don't lose all these things for the sake of a littlesentiment. Understand, too, that doctors are often wrong about people.It is ridiculous to suppose that a strong, hearty girl like Betty Vivianshould have her life in danger because you happened to find----"
"Oh, don't!" said Sibyl. "I--I _can't_ bear it! I saw Sylvia and Hettylast night. I can't bear it!"
"You are a little goose, Sibyl! It's my opinion you are not well. Youmust cling to me, dear, and I will pull you through--see if I don't."
As Fanny took her usual place at the breakfast-table Susie Rushworthsaid to her, "You really are kind to that poor little Sibyl, Fan. Afterall, we must have been a little hard on her last night. She certainlyshows the greatest distress and affection for poor dear Betty."
"I said she was a nice child. I shouldn't be likely to propose her forthe club if she were not," said Fanny.
Susie said nothing more. All the girls were dull, grave, distressed. Thetwins were nowhere to be seen. Betty's sweet face, Betty's sparklingeyes, Betty's gay laugh, were conspicuous by their absence. Miss Symesdid not appear at all.
When breakfast was over, and the brief morning prayers had been gonethrough by Mr. Fairfax--for these prayers were not said in thechapel--Mrs. Haddo rose and faced the school. "Girls," she said, "I wishto let you all know that one of your number--one exceedingly dear to usall--is lying now at the point of death. Whether God will spare her ornot depends altogether on her mind being given a certain measure ofrelief. I need not tell you her name, for you all know it, and I believeyou are all extremely grieved at what has occurred. It is impossible forany of you to help her at this moment except by being extra quiet, andby praying to God to be good to her and her two little sisters. Ipropose, therefore, to make a complete alteration in the arrangements ofto-day. I am going to send the whole of the upper school--with theexception of the members of the Speciality Club--to London by train. Twoof the teachers, Mademoiselle and Miss Oxley, will accompany you. Youwill all be driven to the station, and win return to-night--having, Ihope, enjoyed a pleasant day. By that time there may be good news togreet you. No lessons to-day for any of the upper school; so, girls, goat once and get ready."
All the girls began now to leave the great hall, with the exception ofthe Specialities and Sibyl Ray.
"Go, Sibyl!" said Fanny. "What are you lingering for?"
"Yes, Sibyl, be quick; don't delay!" said Mrs. Haddo, speaking rathersharply. "You will all be back in time to-night to hear the latestreport of dear Betty, and we trust we may have good news to tell you."
Sibyl went with extreme slowness and extreme unwillingness. But for thefact that Fanny kept her eye fixed on Sibyl she might have refused tobudge. As it was, she left the hall; and a very few minutes laterwagonettes and motors appeared in view, and the girls of the upperschool drove to the railway station.
As Fanny saw Sibyl driving off with the others she became conscious of anew sense of relief. She had been so anxious with regard to Sibyl thatshe had not had time to wonder why the Specialities were not included inthe entertainment. Now, however, her thoughts were turned into adifferent channel.
Susie Rushworth came up to Fanny. "Fanny," she said, "you and I, and theBertrams, and Olive, and Margaret, and Martha are all to go immediatelyto Mrs. Haddo's private sitting-room."
"What for?" asked Fanny.
"I expect that she will explain. We are to go, and at once."
Fanny did not dare to say any more. They all went slowly together in thedirection of that beautiful room where Mrs. Haddo, usually so bright, socheery, so full of enthusiasm, invited her young pupils to meet her. Butthere was no smile of welcome on that lady's fine face on the presentoccasion. She did not even shake hands with the girls as theyapproached. All she did was to ask them to sit down.
Fanny took her place between Olive and one of the Bertrams. She couldnot help noticing a great change in their manner towards her. As a ruleshe was a prime favorite, and to sit next Fanny Crawford was considereda very rare honor. On this occasion, however, the girls rather edgedaway from Fanny.
Mrs. Haddo seated herself near the fire. Then she turned and spoke toMargaret Grant. "Margaret," she said, "I ask you, in the name of theother members of your club, to give me full and exact particulars withregard to your expulsion of Betty Vivian. I must know, and fully, whyBetty was expelled. Pause a minute before you speak, dear. For longyears I have allowed this club to exist in the school, believing much inits good influence--in its power to ennoble and raise the impressionablecharacter of a young girl. I have not interfered with it; on thecontrary, I have been proud of it. To each girl who became a SpecialityI immediately granted certain privileges, knowing well that no girlwould be lightly admitted to a club with so high an aim and so noble astandard.
"When Betty first came I perceived at once that she was fearless, veryaffectionate, and possessed a strong, pronounced, willful character; Isaw, in short, that she was worth winning and loving. I liked hersisters also; but Betty was superior to her sisters. I departed fromseveral established customs when I admitted the Vivians to this school,and I will own that I had my qualms
of conscience notwithstanding thefact that my old friend Sir John Crawford was so anxious for me to havethem here. Nevertheless, when first I saw Betty I knew that he was rightand I was wrong. That such a girl might stir up deep interest, andperhaps even bring sorrow into the school, I knew was within the boundsof probability; but I did not think it possible that she could everdisgrace it. I own I was a little surprised when I was told that so newa girl was made a member of your club; but as you, Margaret, weresecretary, and as Susie Rushworth and my dear friend Fanny were members,I naturally had not a word to say, and only admired your discernment inreading aright that young character.
"Then there came the news--the terrible news--that Betty was expelled;and since then there has been confusion, sorrow, and now this mostalarming illness. The girl is dying of a broken heart. She has lostsomething that she treasures. Margaret, the rules of the club must giveplace to the greater rules of the school; and I demand a fullexplanation from you of the exact reason why Betty Vivian is no longer amember of the Specialities."
Margaret looked round at the other members. All their faces were white.No one spoke for a minute.
Then Fanny rose and said, "Is it fair, for Betty's sake, that we shouldbreak our own rules? The reason of her being no longer a member is atpresent known only to the rest of us. Is it right that it should be madepublic property?"
"It must be made _my_ property, Fanny Crawford; and I do not ask you,much as I esteem your father's friendship, to dictate to me in thismatter."
Fanny sat down again. She felt the little packet in her pocket. That, atleast, was secure; that, at least, would not rise up and betray her.
Margaret gave a very simple explanation of the reason why Betty couldnot remain in the club. She said that Betty had taken the rules andstudied them carefully; had most faithfully promised to obey them; andthen, a fortnight later, had stood up and stated that she had brokenRule No. I., for she had a secret which she had not divulged to theother members.
"And that secret, Margaret?" asked Mrs. Haddo.
"She had, she said, a packet--a sealed packet of great value--that shedid not wish any one in the school to know about. It had been given toher by one she loved. She was extremely reticent about it, and seemed tobe in great trouble. She explained why she had not spoken of it at firstby saying that she did not think that the secret concerned any one inthe school, but since she had joined the club she had felt that sheought to tell. We asked her all the questions we could; and shecertainly gave us to understand that the packet was hers by right, butthat, rather than give it up, she had told an untruth about it toFanny's father, Sir John Crawford. We were very much stunned anddistressed at her revelation, and we begged of her to go with the storyto you, and also to put the packet in your charge, and tell you what shehad already told us. This she emphatically refused to do, saying thatshe would never give the packet up under any conditions whatever. We hada special meeting of the club on the following night, when we againasked Betty what she meant to do. She said her intention was to keepfirmly to her resolve that she would never give up the packet nor tellwhere she had hidden it. We then felt it to be our bounden duty to askher to withdraw from the club. She did so. I think that is all."
"Only," said Mrs. Haddo, speaking in a voice of great distress, "thatthe poor, unhappy child seems to have lost the packet--which containednobody knows what, but some treasure which she prized--and that the lossand the shock together are affecting her life to the point of danger.Girls, do any of you know--have you any clue whatsoever to--where thepacket is now? Please remember, dear girls, that Betty's life--thatbeautiful, vivid young life--depends on that packet being restored.Don't keep it a secret if you have any clue whatsoever to give me, for Iam miserable about this whole thing."
"Indeed we wouldn't keep it a secret," said Margaret. "How could we?We'd give all the world to find it for her. Who can have taken it?"
"Some one has, beyond doubt," said Mrs. Haddo. "Children, this is aterrible day for me. I have tried to be kind to you all. Won't you helpme now in my sorrow?"
The girls crowded round her, some of them kneeling by her side, some ofthem venturing to kiss her hand; but from every pair of lips came thesame words, "We know nothing of the packet." Even Fanny, who kept it inher pocket, and who heartily wished that it was lying at the bottom ofthe sea, repeated the same words as her companions.