CHAPTER XVI.
FOUND AT LAST.
As soon as Mrs. Conway received the box she set to work in earnest.Directly the house was still and a sufficient time had elapsed for theMiss Penfolds to have fallen asleep, she rose from the bed on whichshe had lain down without undressing, put on the coat and hat, andmade her way noiselessly down to the library. As she kept the lockwell oiled she entered noiselessly, and then locking the door behindher lighted a candle and commenced her search. On the fifth night shewas rewarded by finding that the center of what looked like a solidlycarved flower in the ornamentation of the mantelpiece gave way underthe pressure of her finger, and at the same moment she heard a slightclick. Beyond this nothing was apparent; and after trying everythingwithin reach she came to the conclusion that it needed a second springto be touched to reveal the entrance.
It took her another three weeks before she found this. It was a slightprojection, about as large as a button, in the inside of the chimneybehind the mantel. Pressing this and the other spring simultaneously,the bookcase on the left of the fireplace suddenly swung open three orfour inches. For a moment she stood breathless with excitement,hesitating before she entered; then she swung the bookcase open.There, as she had expected, was a little room seven feet long by fourdeep; but, to her bitter disappointment, it was bare and empty. A fewscraps of paper lay on the ground, but there was no furniture, chest,or boxes in the room. The revulsion was so great that Mrs. Conwayreturned into the library, threw herself into a chair, and had a longcry. Then she went back into the room and carefully examined thepieces of paper lying on the ground. One of them was a portion of aletter, and she recognized at once the handwriting of Mr. Tallboys.
It contained only the words: "My dear Mr. Penfold--In accordance withyour request I send you the--" But above was the date, which was tendays only anterior to Mr. Penfold's death. Mrs. Conway had no doubtthat the word that should have followed the fragment was "will," andthat this was the letter that Mr. Tallboys had sent over with thatdocument. It was important evidence, as it showed that Mr. Penfold hadbeen in the habit of using this place during his lifetime, and that hehad entered it after he had received the will from his solicitor a fewdays before his death. Why should he have entered it except to put thewill in a place of security? Where that place was she did not know,but she felt certain that it was somewhere within reach of her hand.
"If it is here it must be found," she said resolutely; "but I won'tbegin to look for it to-night. It must be three o'clock already, and Iwill think the matter over thoroughly before I begin again. It issomething to have found out as much as I have. I ought to beencouraged instead of being disappointed."
That day she wrote to Mr. Tallboys, giving him a full account of thediscovery which she had made, and inclosing the fragment of hisletter. She did not renew her search for the next two nights; for herlong watchfulness and excitement had told upon her, and she felt thatshe needed rest before she set about the second part of the search.She received a letter from Mr. Tallboys in reply to that she had senthim:
"MY DEAR MRS. CONWAY: I congratulate you most heartily upon the greatsuccess you have met with. I own that I have never been very hopeful,for after the thorough search we made of the room I hardly thought itlikely that you would succeed when we had failed; however, you havedone so, and I cannot doubt that a similar success will attend yourfurther efforts. In a small bare room such as you describe thedifficulties in the way of finding the hidden receptacle cannot be sogreat as those you have already overcome. You are perfectly correct inyour supposition that the fragment you sent me was part of the letterthat I sent over with the will to Mr. Penfold by my clerk. I havecompared it with the copy in my letter book, and find that it is thesame. As you say, this letter proves conclusively that Mr. Penfold wasin this secret room after he received the will, and one can assign noreason for his going there unless to put the will away in what heconsidered a secure hiding-place. That it is still somewhere there Ihave no doubt whatever, and I shall await with much anxiety news as toyour further progress."
Thinking the matter over, Mrs. Conway had come to the conclusion thatthe hiding-place could only be under one of the stone flags of thefloor or in the wall against the fireplace, or rather in that part ofit above the fireplace. There would not be thickness enough in thewalls separating the secret chamber from the passage or the rooms oneither side of it; but the chimney would not be of the same width asthe open fireplace below, and there might well be a space theresufficient for a good-sized closet. It was here, therefore, that shedetermined to begin her search. The next night, then, after touchingthe springs and entering the secret chamber, she began carefully toexamine each stone in the wall next the fireplace at a distance aboutfour feet above the ground.
In five minutes she uttered an exclamation of satisfaction. One of thestones, above eighteen inches square, although like the rest fittingclosely to those adjoining it, was not, like the others, bedded incement. So close was the join that it needed a close inspection to seethat it was different from those around it. Still, upon closeexamination, it was evident that it was not cemented in. Taking out apenknife from her pocket, she found that the joint was too close evento allow this to be inserted for any distance. There was no keyhole orany other visible means of opening it, and she searched the walls invain for any hidden spring.
For a whole week she continued the search, but without the slightestsuccess, and at last began almost to despair; for at the end of thattime she was convinced that she had passed her fingers again and againover every square inch of the floor and walls within her reach.Completely worn out with her sleepless nights, she determined to takea little rest, and to abstain altogether for a few nights from thesearch. On the third night, however, an idea suddenly occurred to her.She rose at once, dressed herself, and was about to go downstairs,when she thought that she heard a noise below. She returned at once toher room, hid away her hat and coat, and again went to the top of thestairs and listened.
Yes, she had not been mistaken; she distinctly heard sounds below,and, she thought, the murmur of men's voices. After a moment's thoughtshe returned again to her room, took off her dress and threw a shawlround her shoulders, and then stole quietly down the stairs to thenext floor and knocked gently at Miss Penfold's door. She repeated theknock two or three times, and then heard Miss Penfold's voice askingwho was there. She did not speak, but knocked again. This time thevoice came from the other side of the door.
"It is me, Miss Penfold--Anna Sibthorpe."
The door was unlocked and opened.
"What is it, Anna?"
"There is some one in the house, ma'am; I can hear them moving aboutdown below, and I think I can hear men's voices."
Miss Penfold came out and listened.
"Yes, there is some one there," she said. "Go and call the butler andthe others. I shall be ready by the time you come down."
In two or three minutes the servants, headed by the butler, who hadarmed himself with a blunderbuss that always hung in his room readyfor action, came downstairs. Miss Penfold came out to meet themhalf-dressed. She had a pistol in her hand. The maids had armedthemselves with pokers and brooms.
"Have you looked to the priming of your blunderbuss?" Miss Penfoldasked quietly.
"No, ma'am."
"Well, then, look now," she said sharply. "What's the use of having aweapon if you don't see that it's in order?"
"It's all right, ma'am," the butler said, examining the priming.
"Well, then, come along and don't make a noise."
They went downstairs noiselessly, and paused when they reached thehall. The sounds came from the drawing-room. Miss Penfold led the wayto the door, turned the handle, and flung it open. Three men were seenin the act of packing up some of the valuables. They started up withan exclamation. Miss Penfold fired, and there was a cry of pain. Amoment later there was a roar as the blunderbuss went off, thecontents lodging in the ceiling. "Without hesitating for a moment thethree men made a rush to the
open window, and were gone.
"John Wilton," Miss Penfold said sternly, "you are a fool! I give youa month's notice from to-day. Fasten up the shutters again and all gooff to bed." And without another word she turned and went upstairs. Asshe reached the landing her sister ran out of her room in great alarm.
"What is the matter, Charlotte? I heard two explosions."
"It is nothing, Eleanor. Some men broke into the house, and we havegone down and frightened them away. I did not think it was worth whiledisturbing you, as you are so easily alarmed; but it is all over now,and the servants are shutting up the house again. I will tell you allabout it in the morning. Go to bed again at once, or you will catchcold. Good-night."
Directly Miss Penfold had gone upstairs a hubbub of talk burst outfrom the female servants.
"It's disgraceful, John! With that great gun you ought to have shotthem all dead."
"It went off by itself," John said, "just as I was going to level it."
"Went off by itself!" the cook said scornfully. "It never went off ofitself when it was hanging above your bed. Guns never go off bythemselves, no more than girls do. I am surprised at you, John. Why, Ihave heard you talk a score of times of what you would do if burglarscame; and now here you have been and knocked a big hole in theceiling. Why missus has twenty times as much courage as you have. Sheshot straight, she did, for I heard one of the men give a squalk. Oh,you men are pitiful creatures, after all!"
"You wouldn't have been so mighty brave, cook, if Miss Penfold and mehadn't been in front of you."
"A lot of use you were!" the cook retorted. "Six feet one of flesh,and no heart in it! Why, I would have knocked him down with a broom ifI had been within reach of him."
"Yes, that we would, cook," the under-housemaid said. "I had got mypoker ready, and I would have given it them nicely if I could have gotwithin reach. Miss Penfold was just as cool as if she had been eatingher breakfast, and so was we all except John."
John had by this time fastened up the shutter again, and feeling thathis persecutors were too many for him he slunk off at once to hisroom; and the others, beginning to feel that their garments werescarcely fitted for the cold night air postponed their discussion ofthe affair until the following morning. The next morning afterbreakfast the servants were called into the dining-room, and MissPenfold interrogated them closely as to whether any of them had seenstrange men about, or had been questioned by any one they knew as tovaluables at the Hall.
"If it had not been for Anna," she said, when she had finished withouteliciting any information, "the house would have been robbed, and notany of us would have been any the wiser. It was most fortunate that,as she says, she happened to be awake and heard the sounds; and sheacted very properly in coming quietly down to wake me. If the one manin the house," and she looked scornfully at the unfortunate butler,"had been possessed of the courage of a man the whole of them wouldhave been shot; for they were standing close together, and he couldhardly have missed them if he had tried.
"If that weapon had been in the hands of Anna, instead of those ofJohn Wilton, the results would have been very different. However, JohnWilton, you have been a good servant generally, and I suppose it isnot your fault if you have not the courage of a mouse, therefore Ishall withdraw my notice for you to leave. I shall make arrangementsfor the gardener to sleep in the house in future, and you will handthat blunderbuss over to him. I shall write to-day to the ironmongerat Weymouth to come over and fix bells to all the shutters, and toarrange wires for a bell from my room to that which the gardener willoccupy."
At breakfast Miss Penfold informed her sister of what had taken placethe night before.
"I shall write, of course, to the head constable at Weymouth to sendover to inquire about it, but I have very little hope that he willdiscover anything, Eleanor."
"Why do you think that, Charlotte? You said that you were convincedyou had wounded one of the men; so they ought to be able to tracehim."
"I dare say they would if this had been an ordinary theft; but I amconvinced that it was not."
"Not an ordinary theft! What do you mean?"
"I have no doubt in my mind, Eleanor, that it was another attempt todiscover the will."
"Do you think so?" Eleanor said in an awed voice. "That is terrible.But you said the men were engaged in packing up the candlesticks andornaments."
"Oh, I believe that was a mere blind. Of course they would wish us tobelieve they were simply burglars, and therefore they acted as such tobegin with. But there has never been any attempt on the house duringthe forty years we have lived here. Why should there be so now? IfAnna had not fortunately heard those men I believe that when they hadpacked up a few things to give the idea that they were burglars, theywould have gone to the library and set to to ransack it and find thewill."
"But they would never have found it, Charlotte. It is too well hiddenfor that."
"There is no knowing," Miss Penfold said gloomily. "So long as it is inexistence we shall never feel comfortable. It will be much better todestroy it."
"No, no!" Eleanor exclaimed. "We agreed, Charlotte, that there was noreason why we should assist them to find it; but that is altogether adifferent thing from destroying it. I should never feel happy again ifwe did."
"As for that," Miss Penfold said somewhat scornfully, "you don't seemvery happy now. You are always fretting and fidgeting over it."
"It is not I who am fancying that these burglars came after the will,"Eleanor answered in an aggrieved voice.
"No; that is the way with timid people," Miss Penfold said. "They areoften afraid of shadows, and see no danger where danger really exists.At any rate, I am determined to see whether the will really is wherewe suppose it to be. If it is I shall take it out and hide it in themattress of my bed. We know that it will be safe there at any rate aslong as I live, though I think it wiser to destroy it."
"No, no," Eleanor exclaimed; "anything but that. I sleep badly enoughnow, and am always dreaming that Herbert is standing by my bedsidewith a reproachful look upon his face. I should never dare sleep atall if we were to destroy it."
"I have no patience with such childish fancies, as I told you over andover again," Miss Penfold said sharply. "If I am ready to take therisk of doing it, I do not see that you need fret about it. However, Iam ready to give in to your prejudices, and indeed would rather notdestroy it myself if it can be safely kept elsewhere. At any rate Ishall move it from its hiding-place. We know that it is there andnowhere else that it will be searched for, and with it in my room weneed have no more uneasiness. I can unsew the straw _pailliasse_ atthe bottom of my bed, and when it is safely in there I shall have nofear whatever."
"Of course you can do as you like, Charlotte," Eleanor said feebly;"but for my part I would much rather go on as we are. We don't knownow that the will really exists, and I would much rather go onthinking that there is a doubt about it."
"Very well, then; go on so, Eleanor. You need ask no questions of me,and I shall tell you nothing. Only remember, if I die before you don'tpart with the _pailliasse_ on my bed."
Mrs. Conway thought a good deal during the day about the events of thenight before, and determined to be more cautious than ever in heroperations; for she thought it probable that Miss Penfold would beeven more wakeful and suspicious than before. She would have left thesearch alone for a few days had it not been for the idea that hadtaken her from her bed the night before. It had struck her then aspossible that the spring opening the secret closet might be in thechimney behind it, and that it was necessary to touch this from theoutside before opening the door of the secret room.
She was convinced that had there been a spring in the room itself shemust have discovered it, but it never before struck her that it mightbe at the back of the closet. She felt that she must satisfy herselfon this point whatever the risk of discovery. Accordingly at the usualhour she made her way downstairs. She had put the key in the door, andwas in the act of turning it when she heard a noise upstairs. Sheope
ned the door and stood looking up the stairs. In a moment she saw alight, and directly afterward Miss Penfold appeared at the top holdinga candle in her hand. Knowing she was as yet unseen, Mrs. Conwayentered the library and closed the door behind her. Then she hurriedto the fireplace, touched the two springs, pulled the bookcase openand entered the secret chamber, and closed the bookcase behind her.
She had often examined the lock, thinking that the secret spring ofthe closet might be concealed here. It was a large old-fashioned one,and moved two bolts, one at the top of the door and one at the bottom.These she had already discovered could be easily opened from theinside. She imagined that Miss Penfold was merely going round thehouse to see that all was secure, and she had, contrary to herpractice, taken the key from the door of the library in order thatMiss Penfold might enter it if she chose. But the thought now flashedacross her that possibly she might intend to open the secret room; andto prevent this she now thrust the barrel of the pistol she carried inbetween the back of the bolt and the piece of iron against which itshot, so that the action of the springs could not throw it out of itsplace.
Breathlessly she listened. Presently she heard a sharp click in thewall behind her. She had scarcely time to wonder what this meant whenshe heard a sound in the lock close to her. It was repeated again andagain. Then she felt a slight tremor of the door as if somebody wastrying to shake it. Her heart almost stood still. Miss Penfold wasevidently trying to open the chamber; and, though she knew the lockcould not open so long as she held the pistol in the place, she felther breath coming fast and her heart beating. For five minutes theattempts to open the door continued. Then all was still again.
For half an hour she remained without moving; then, as all continuedquiet, she guessed that Miss Penfold, finding the springs did not act,had returned to her room. She now rose to her feet, drew out her darklantern, and turned to the wall by her side. She gave an exclamationof joy--the stone that she had so long vainly endeavored to move wasswung open. Miss Penfold who of course had the secret, had touched thespring outside before attempting to open the chamber, and the stone,which was set in iron, had swung open on a hinge. In a moment Mrs.Conway explored the contents. The closet was about two feet square bynine inches in depth, and contained two shelves. There were severalpapers in it, and the very first upon which she placed her hand wasmarked "The Last Will and Testament of Herbert Penfold."
So overwhelmed was Mrs. Conway at this termination to her long searchthat she sank on the ground, and it was some time before she couldcollect herself sufficiently to consider what was her best course. Itwas evident that for some reason Miss Penfold had been about to visitthe secret room to see that the will was still in safety. The failureof the springs to act had, of course, disconcerted her; but she mighttry again in the morning, and would then be able to enter the room,and would discover that the will was missing.
It was clearly the best course to make off at once. She remembered nowthat she had noticed a tiny hole no bigger than a nail-hole in thedoor, and had found that upon the other side it was just above a rowof books in the shelves somewhat lower in height than the rest, andwas evidently intended to enable the occupant of the chamber to obtaina view of the library, and see whether that room was occupied. Sheapplied her eye to it at once, and saw that all was dark. Concealingthe lantern again beneath her coat, she drew back the bolts gently andstepped out. Then she went to one of the windows, took down the bell,carefully unbarred the shutters, threw up the window and stepped out.
She sped cross the garden, down the drive, and through the gate, andthen hurried at the top of her speed toward the village. She had goneabout half the distance when she heard a horse's footstepsapproaching. The road ran between two high hedges and there was noplace for concealment. She therefore walked along by the edge of theroad close to the hedge, hoping that the horseman would pass withoutnoticing her. His eyes, however, were too much accustomed to thedarkness. He reined in his horse when he came to her, and a momentlater the light of a small lantern fell on her face.
"Who are you?" a voice asked, "and where are you going?"
"I am going to the vicarage," she said, "to see Mr. Withers."
"A likely story that," he said. "What is this? A woman with a man'shat and coat! There is something wrong here," and leaning down hecaught her by the collar. She saw by the light of his lantern that hewas a mounted patrol.
"It is quite true, constable," she said. "I have put these things onin a hurry, but I am going to see Mr. Withers on a question of lifeand death. Take me to the vicarage, and if when you get there you findmy story is not true you can lock me up if you like."
The constable was puzzled. The voice was apparently that of a lady,and yet her attire, and her presence abroad at two o'clock in themorning, was suspicious in the extreme. He paused irresolute.
"I don't like to disturb the vicar at this time of night," he said. "Iwill take you to the village lockup and go up to him in the morning."
"Please don't do that," she said. "I am a lady, and have a very goodreason for what I am doing. I can promise you that Mr. Withers willnot be angry at being called up; indeed he will be greatly pleased.Come, constable," she went on, seeing that he hesitated, "I will giveyou a couple of guineas to take me direct to the vicarage."
"Well, ma'am," the constable said, "if you are sure Mr. Withers willnot be angry at being called up at such an hour I will take you; butyou know he is a magistrate, and it would never do to play tricks uponhim."
"There are no tricks, constable. He knows me very well, and will bepleased to see me even at this hour."
Greatly puzzled over the whole proceeding the constable turned, andstill keeping a firm hold of her collar walked his horse back towardthe village.
"You really need not hold me so tightly," Mrs. Conway said. "If Iwanted to get away I could have done so in a moment; for I have apistol in my pocket, and could have shot you the moment you turnedyour lantern away from me."
Somewhat startled at this information the constable released his hold,satisfied that his prisoner could not escape by speed. As a measure ofprecaution he made her walk a pace or two ahead, and kept the light ofhis lantern upon her while he held his pistol ready for action in hishand in case she should suddenly turn upon him. They went through thevillage, and five minutes afterward entered the gate of the vicarage.On reaching the door Mrs. Conway rang the bell. A moment later awindow above opened.
"What is it?" a man's voice asked. "Am I wanted anywhere?"
"I am the mounted patrol, sir," the constable said, "and I have met asuspicious sort of person in the road. She said she was coming to you,and you knew her; and though it didn't seem a likely sort of story, Ithought it better to run the risk of disturbing you instead of takingher to the lockup."
"It is I, Mr. Withers," Mrs. Conway said, taking off her hat andstepping out so that the light of the policeman's lantern fell uponher. "Please let me in, I have got it."
"Good heavens!" Mr. Withers exclaimed, startled out of his usualtranquillity. "It is all right, constable, I will be down in aminute."
"There, constable, you see I spoke truly," Mrs. Conway said, andtaking her purse from her pocket she extracted by the light of thelantern two guineas and handed them to the man.
"Oh, I don't want to take your money, ma'am," he said apologetically."You must excuse my not believing you, but it did seem a rum start."
"You are quite right, constable," she replied. "The circumstances weresuspicious, and you only did your duty. However, you might have madeit very unpleasant for me if you had chosen to take me to the lockupinstead of bringing me here, and I am very willing to give you what Ipromised you. I can afford it very well," she said cheerfully, as hestill hesitated, "and I dare say it will be useful to you."
The man took the money and touched his hat, and sat quiet until thedoor opened, and Mr. Withers in a dressing-gown and holding a candleappeared.
"You have done quite right in bringing the lady up here," Mr. Witherssaid; "but you need
not go talking about it in the village."
"Very well, sir; I will say nothing about it. Good-night, sir.Good-night ma'am."
"My dear Mrs. Conway, what has happened to bring you here at this hourof the night?" Mr. Withers asked as he closed the door behind. "Did Iunderstand you to say that you have got it? Is it possible that youhave found the will?"
"Quite possible, Mr. Withers. Here it is in its envelope, with theseals unbroken."
"You astound me!" Mr. Withers exclaimed. At this moment Mrs. Withersmade her appearance at the top of the stairs, her husband havingbriefly said as he hurried out of the room that it was Mrs. Conway.
"Amy," he said, "here is Mrs. Conway. And, what do you think? she hasbrought the missing will with her."
With an exclamation Mrs. Withers ran downstairs and threw her armsround Mrs. Conway. "You dear brave creature," she said, "I have beenlonging to speak to you for the last six months. It seems so unnaturalyour being close to us, and my not being able to see you, And you havereally found the will? I can hardly believe it. How has it all comeabout?"
"Don't bother her, Amy," Mr. Withers said; for now that the excitementwas past Mrs. Conway was trembling all over, and was scarcely able tokeep her feet. "She is overtired and overexcited. Take her straight upto the spare room and get her to bed. I will make her a tumbler of hotport wine and water. The water is sure to be warm in the kitchen, anda stick or two will make it boil by the time she is ready for it. Wewill hear all about it in the morning. We have got the will safe, andwe have got her; that is quite enough for us for to-night, all therest will keep very well until to-morrow."
In a few minutes Mrs. Conway was in bed, and after drinking thetumbler of hot negus Mr. Withers had prepared for her she soon fellasleep.
Mrs. Withers came into the room early in the morning. "My husband saysyou are not to think of getting up unless you feel quite equal to it,and I agree with him; so if you like I will bring breakfast up to you,and then you can go off to sleep again for a bit."
"Oh, no, thank you," Mrs. Conway replied. "Now that I am fairly awakeand realize where I am, I am perfectly ready to get up. I could notthink the first moment I opened my eyes where I had got to, andfancied I had overslept myself and should get a nice scolding."
"You must wear one of my dresses, my dear," the vicar's wife said."You have done with that servant's gown for good. I will bring you onein a few minutes."
In half an hour Mrs. Conway came down in a pretty morning dress ofMrs. Withers'. Mabel had that moment made her appearance in thebreakfast-room. She had returned only a week before from her stay atBath, having positively mutinied against the proposal that she shouldstay there for another six months. She started at the entry of astranger.
"Don't you know me, Mabel?" Mrs. Conway said, holding out her hand.
"Why--why--" Mabel exclaimed, "it's Mrs. Conway. When did you come,and what have you been doing to yourself? Why, your hair is quite adifferent color! What does it all mean, mamma?" she asked inbewilderment.
"Mrs. Conway came last night, Mabel, after you were in bed."
"But you didn't tell me she was coming, mamma."
"We didn't know ourselves, dear; she arrived quite unexpectedly."
"And--" and Mabel stopped.
"And I have got on one of your mamma's dresses," Mrs. Conway laughed,interpreting Mabel's look of surprise. "Yes, dear, and as you say, Ihave dyed my hair."
"But why, Mrs. Conway? It was such a pretty color before."
"And it will be again some day, I hope, for I am not going to dye itany more."
"I am glad of that," Mabel said frankly; "for you look quite differentsomehow. But why did you do it? and why--Is there anything the matter,Mrs. Conway," she broke off suddenly, "that you come here withoutbeing expected, and are wearing one of mamma's dresses, and have dyedyour hair, and look so different altogether? Have you heard anythingabout Ralph?"
"You will hear all about it presently, Mabel," Mr. Withers, who hadjust come into the room, said. "You owe a great debt of gratitude toMrs. Conway, as you will hear presently; for she has for six monthsbeen working in the interest of Ralph and you. Now, don't open youreyes so wide, but sit down to the table. After we have had breakfastMrs. Conway will tell us all about it."
"By the way, Mrs. Conway, have you heard the news?"
"What news, Mrs. Withers?"
"In the newspaper I got yesterday evening it was said that a despatchhad just been received from the Duke of Wellington saying he had newsthat Bonaparte was advancing, and that he had just issued orders forthe troops to march forward to support the Prussians, who were likelyto be first attacked."
"No, I had heard nothing about it," Mrs. Conway said, turning pale."Then there is going to be a battle, and Ralph will be engaged."
"You must not alarm yourself," the vicar said. "You know the troopsare very widely scattered, and his regiment may not be up in time;beside, you see, the Prussians are likely to be first attacked, andthey may beat the French before the English get up to join in thebattle."
"Now, Mrs. Conway," Mr. Withers said when they had finished breakfast,"please take pity on us and tell us all about it."
"Is Mabel to go away, or is she to hear it all, James?" Mrs. Withersasked.
"What do you think, Mrs. Conway?"
"I see no reason whatever against her hearing. Mabel is fast growingup. You are past fifteen now, are you not, Mabel?"
"Yes, Mrs. Conway."
"Then I think she has a right to hear all about it. She is, after all,the party most interested."
"Thank you, Mrs. Conway," the girl said. "Please let us go out intothe garden and sit in the chairs under the shade of that tree. I cansee it is going to be a long story, and it will be delightful outthere; and then papa can smoke his after-breakfast cigar."
"Very well, Mabel; if your mamma has no objection, I am quitewilling."
The chairs were taken out into the shade of the tree and the party satdown, Mabel all excitement, for as yet she knew nothing whatever ofwhat had happened, and was puzzling herself in vain as to how Mrs.Conway could have been working in her interest.
"In the first place, Mabel," Mrs. Conway began, "I suppose you have noidea why you were sent away to Bath?"
Mabel opened her eyes in surprise.
"I thought I went there to get lessons in music and French anddancing."
"Well, you did go for that purpose, but for something else also. Youwere sent away in order that you might not see me."
"Not see you, Mrs. Conway! Why, you must be joking. Why, papa, whatreason could there possibly be why I should not see Mrs. Conway? Andbeside, you never told me in your letter that she had been here."
"I have not been here--at least not in this house; but I was in thechurch every Sunday. I was there before you went away, although youdid not see me. I was sitting in the pew with the Hall servants."
"With the Hall servants!" Mabel repeated in astonishment. "What didyou sit with them for? and where were you staying? and why did youcome to the church every Sunday and not come here?"
"That's just the story you are going to hear, Mabel. You heard ofcourse, that it was Mr. Penfold's intention to leave you half hisestates?"
"Yes, I heard that; and then there was no will found so of course Ididn't get it."
"No, my dear; but as we all believed that there was such a will, wewere naturally unwilling to let the matter rest. Still, the chance offinding it seemed very remote. You remember we spoke to you about itwhen they offered you that hundred a year."
"Yes, papa, you told me then that you thought they were keeping me outof my rights, and that was why I ought to refuse to take it. Yes, youdid say they were keeping Ralph out too, and that was partly why youthought I ought not to agree to take the money; and of course Ithought so too, because that would seem as if we had deserted Ralph."
"Well, Mabel, at that time the chance of our ever hearing anything ofthe will was so remote that I think both your mother and myself hadentirely given up hope, an
d I am sure we should never have taken anymore steps in the matter. Fortunately Mrs. Conway possesses a greatdeal more energy and perseverance than we have, and when she foundthat we gave it up, and that Mr. Tallboys gave it up, she determinedto take the matter in her own hands. Now she will tell us how she hassucceeded, and you must listen quietly and not ask more questions thanyou can help till she has finished."
"Well, my dear," Mrs. Conway went on, "Mr. Tallboys, Mr. Penfold'slawyer, did everything he possibly could to find the will, but hecould not do so; and as my son was with you the person that had beenrobbed, I thought it was my duty to undertake the search myself."
Mrs. Conway then related step by step the measures she had taken toobtain a situation as servant at the Hall, and then went on to tellthe manner in which she had carried on the search, and how success hadfinally crowned her efforts, her story being frequently interrupted byexclamations and questions from her hearers.
"What do you mean to do next?" Mr. Withers asked when she concluded.
"I will ask you to drive me over at once to Weymouth. I shall not feelcomfortable until I have placed the will in Mr. Tallboys' hands; anddirectly I have done that I shall go over to Brussels. I may perhapsget there before any great battle is fought; and I should like to seeRalph before that, if possible, and at any rate be there to nurse himif he was wounded. I shall ask Mr. Tallboys if he can spare time to goacross with me to Brussels. I should not want him to stop there, butonly to take me over. I should think there would be no difficulty inhiring a small vessel at Weymouth to take me to Ostend, especially asmoney is no object now. If Mr. Tallboys cannot spare time himself, hecan send a clerk with me or get somebody who will take me in charge;but at any rate I intend to go by myself if necessary. I do notsuppose it will cause any delay about the will, Mr. Withers; for ofcourse there must be some trouble in having it proved."
"It can make no difference, Mrs. Conway. I do not give that the leastthought. I will go round at once and tell William to put in thehorses."
"Mabel and I will go over too, James," Mrs. Withers said; "we cannotsit quiet all day after this excitement. Beside, I want to hear whatMr. Tallboys says."
Mr. Withers returned in a few minutes, looking grave.
"William has just come up from the village, and says that half an hourago a man rode up from the Hall with word that the doctor was to goover at once, for that Eleanor Penfold had just had a stroke or fit ofsome sort and was terribly bad. I am sorry this new trouble hasbefallen them; but they have brought it entirely upon themselves, poorladies. However, justice must be done; but I am sure you will agreewith me, Mrs. Conway, that if the matter can possibly be arrangedwithout exposure and publicity it shall be done so."