CHAPTER XXV
GETTING ON
It was a frosty night and snow lay smoothly upon the campus. Only thewalks and the cemented place about the fountain were cleaned. TonyFoyle had made his last rounds and put out the lights; but althoughthere was no moon the starlight on the snow made the campus silvery inspots. But the leafless trees, and the buildings about the open space,cast deep shadows.
There was a light shining in a study window of the West Dormitory andthat light was in the room occupied by the Triumvirate--Ruth Fielding,Helen Cameron and Mercy Curtis. The two latter were abed, but awakeand wondering why Ruth had not returned, and what Miss Scrimp had meantby coming to the door and telling them to leave the light burning.
The clocks had long since struck eleven and it was close to midnight.The night was still, for there was no wind. It was possible that veryfew of either the scholars, teachers, or servants at Briarwood wereawake. But almost directly under the light in the Triumvirate's roomanother light burned--in the study of the French teacher. She seldomretired early; that is one reason why those girls who considered MissPicolet their enemy believed she was always on the watch.
Three figures came out of the basement door under the tower ofBriarwood Hall--a lady much bundled up, a girl ditto, and the oldIrishman, Tony Foyle.
"Sure, ma'am, jest as I told ye this afternoon, the big felly thatsassed me last fall, tryin' ter git in ter play his harp, and with hisother vagabonds, was hanging around again to-day. I hear him an' hisrapscallion companions is in Lumberton. They've been playing abouthere and there, for a month back. And now I see him comin' along withhis harp on his back--bad 'cess to him! P'raps they're walkin' acrossto Sivin Oaks, an' are takin' in Briarwood as a 'cross-cut'."
"Hush!" whispered the Preceptress. "Isn't that somebody overyonder--by the fountain?"
They were all three silent, keeping close in the shadow. Some object_did_ seem to be moving in the shadow of the fountain. Suddenly theresounded on the still night air the reverberating note of a harp--acrash of sound following the flourish of a practised hand across thewires.
"Bless us and save us!" muttered Tony. "'Tis the marble harp. 'Tis abanshee playin'."
"Be still!" commanded Mrs. Tellingham. "It is nothing of the kind, youvery well know, Tony. Ah!"
She had looked instantly toward the illuminated window of the Frenchteacher's study at the other side of the campus. The shade had snappedup to the top of the casement, and the shadow of Miss Picolet appeared.The French teacher had heard the voice of the harp.
"Oh, poor little thing," murmured Mrs. Tellingham. "This seems likespying and eavesdropping, Ruth Fielding; but I mean to stop this thingright here and now. She shall not be frightened out of her wits bythis villain."
They heard no further sound from the harp at the fountain. But thedoor of the West Dormitory opened and the little figure of Miss Picoletappeared, wrapped in some long, loose garment, and she sped down towardthe fountain. Soon she was out of sight behind the marble statue.
"Come!" breathed the Preceptress.
They heard Miss Picolet and the man chattering in their ownlanguage--the man threatening, the woman pleading--when the trio got tothe fountain. Ruth was a poor French scholar, but of course Mrs.Tellingham understood what they said. And the Preceptress glidedaround the fountain and confronted the harpist with a suddenness thatquite startled him.
"You, sir!" exclaimed the lady, coldly. "I have heard enough of this.Don't be frightened, Miss Picolet. I only blame you for not coming tome. I have long known your circumstances, and the fact that you arepoor, and that you have an imbecile sister to support, and that thisman is your disreputable half-brother. And that he threatens to hangabout here and make you lose your position unless you pay him to begood, is well known to me, too.
"We will have no more of this fellow's threats," continued Mrs.Tellingham, sternly. "You will give him none of your hard-earnedmoney, Miss Picolet. Tony, here, shall see him off the grounds, and ifhe ever appears here again, or troubles you, let me know and I shallsend him to jail for trespass. Now, remember--you Jean Picolet! Ihave your record and the police at Lumberton shall have it, too, if youever trouble your sister again."
"Ah-ha!" snarled the big man, looking evilly at Ruth. "So the littleMademoiselle betrayed me; did she?"
"She has had nothing to do with it--save to have had the misfortune oflosing the letter you gave her to deliver to Miss Picolet," Mrs.Tellingham said, briefly. "I had her here to identify you, had MissPicolet not come out to meet you. Now, Tony!"
And big as the harpist was, and little as the old Irishman seemed,there was that in Tony Foyle's eye that made the man pick up his harpin a hurry and make his way from the campus.
"Child! go in to bed," said Mrs. Tellingham. "Not a word of this,remember. Thank goodness, _you_ are one girl who can keep a secret.Miss Picolet, I want to see you in my study. I hope that, hereafter,you will give me your confidence. For you need fear no dismissal fromthe school over such a misfortune as is visited upon you."
She took the sobbing, trembling French teacher away with her while Ruthran up to Duet Two in the West Dormitory, in a much excited state ofmind.
Fortunately both Helen and Mercy had dropped to sleep and none of theother girls seemed to have heard the harp at midnight. So there was notalk this time about the Ghost of the Campus. To the other girls atBriarwood, the mystery remained unsolved, and the legend of the marbleharp was told again and again to the Infants who came to the school,with the added point that, on the night Ruth Fielding and Helen Cameronhad come to the hall, the marble harp was again heard to sound itsghostly note.
No thought of such foolish, old-wives' fables troubled Ruth Fielding'sdreams as she lay down on this night which had seen the completeexposure of the campus mystery and the laying of the campus ghost. Shedreamed, instead, of completing her first term at Briarwood withsatisfaction to herself and her teachers--which she did! She dreamedof returning to the old Red Mill and being joyfully received by AuntAlviry and Uncle Jabez--which she did! She dreamed, too, of joiningHelen Cameron and her mid-winter party at Snow Camp and enjoyingquantities of fun and frolic in the wintry woods; which, likewise, cametrue, and which adventures will be related in good time In the nextvolume of this series: "Ruth Fielding at Snow Camp; Or, Lost in theBackwoods."
"I am so glad it is over!" said Ruth to herself, as she retired. "Ihope there is no more trouble."
And here let us for the time being say good bye to Ruth Fielding andher chums of Briarwood Hall.
THE END
PEGGY LEE SERIES
By ANNA ANDREWS
A charming series of stories of a young American girl, Peggy Lee,living with her family (including many unusual pets) on a large coffeeplantation in Central America, and her many adventures there and in NewYork.
The action is rapid, full of fun, and takes the reader not only to manyinteresting places in Central America, but in the country as well,where Peggy attends a school for girls. The incidents are cleverlybrought out, and Peggy in her wistful way, proves in her manyadventures to be a brave girl and an endearing heroine to her friendsand readers.
1. PEGGY AND MICHAEL OF THE COFFEE PLANTATION 2. PEGGY LEE OF THE GOLDEN THISTLE PLANTATION 3. PEGGY LEE AND THE MYSTERIOUS ISLANDS
(Other Volumes in Preparation)
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers, New York
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