CHAPTER IX
MORNING AT HILLCREST
The bang of the door, closed by the draught when 'Phemie had openedthe way into the east wing, _had_ aroused Lyddy. She came to herself--toa consciousness of her strange surroundings--with a sharpness ofapprehension that set every nerve in her body to tingling.
"'Phemie! what is it?" she whispered.
Then, rolling over on the rustling straw mattress, she reached for hersister's hand. But 'Phemie was not there.
"'Phemie!" Lyddy cried loudly, sitting straight up in bed. She knew shewas alone in the room, and hopped out of bed, shivering. She groped forher robe and her slippers. Then she sped swiftly into the kitchen.
She knew where the lamp and the match-box were. Quickly she had the lampa-light and then swept the big room with a startled glance.
'Phemie had disappeared. The outside door was still locked. It seemed toLyddy as though the echoing slam of the door that had awakened her wasstill ringing in her ears.
She ran to the hall door and opened it. Dark--and not a sound!
Where could 'Phemie have gone?
The older sister had never known 'Phemie to walk in her sleep. She had notricks of somnambulism that Lyddy knew anything about.
And yet the older Bray girl was quite sure her sister had come this way.The lamplight, when the door was opened wide, illuminated the squarehall quite well. Lyddy ran across it and pushed open the door of thelong corridor.
There was no light in it, yet she could see outlined the huge pieces offurniture, and the ugly chairs. And at the very moment she opened thisdoor, the door at the far end was flung wide and a white figure plungedtoward her.
"'Phemie!" screamed the older sister.
"Lyddy!" wailed 'Phemie.
And in a moment they were in each other's arms and Lyddy was dragging'Phemie across the entrance hall into the lighted kitchen.
"What is it? What _is_ it?" gasped Lyddy.
"Oh, oh, oh!" was all 'Phemie was able to say for the moment; then, as sherealized how really terrified her sister was, she continued her seriesof "ohs" while she thought very quickly.
She knew very well what had scared her; but why add to Lyddy's fright? Shecould not explain away the voice she had heard. Of course, she knew verywell it had _not_ proceeded from the skeleton. But why terrify Lyddy bysaying anything about that awful thing?
"What scared you so?" repeated Lyddy, shaking her a bit.
"I--I don't know," stammered 'Phemie--and she didn't!
"But why did you get up?"
"I thought I heard something--voices--people talking--steps," gasped'Phemie, and now her teeth began to chatter so that she could scarcelyspeak.
"Foolish girl!" exclaimed Lyddy, rapidly recovering her own self-control."You dreamed it. And now you've got a chill, wandering through this oldhouse. Here! sit down there!"
She drove her into a low chair beside the hearth. She ran for an extracomforter to wrap around her. She raked the ashes off the coals of thefire, and set the tea-kettle right down upon the glowing bed.
In a minute it began to steam and gurgle, and Lyddy made her sister anold-fashioned brew of ginger tea. When the younger girl had swallowed halfa bowlful of the scalding mixture she ceased shaking. And by that time,too, she had quite recovered her self-control.
"You're a very foolish little girl," declared Lyddy, warningly, "toget up alone and go wandering about this house. Why, _I_ wouldn't do itfor--for the whole farm!"
"I--I dropped my candle. It went out," said 'Phemie, quietly. "I guessbeing in the dark scared me more than anything."
"Now, that's enough. Forget it! We'll go to bed again and see if we can'tget some sleep. Why! it's past eleven."
So the sisters crept into bed again, and lay in each other's arms,whispering a bit and finally, before either of them knew it, they wereasleep. And neither ghosts, nor whispering voices, nor any other midnightsounds disturbed their slumbers for the remainder of that first nightat Hillcrest.
They were awake betimes--and without the help of the alarm clock. It waspretty cold in the two rooms; but they threw kindling on the coals andsoon the flames were playing tag through the interlacing sticks that'Phemie heaped upon the fire.
The kettle was soon bubbling again, while Lyddy mixed batter cakes. Alittle bed of live coals was raked together in front of the main fireand on this a well greased griddle was set, where the cakes baked to atender brown and were skillfully lifted off by 'Phemie and buttered andsugared.
What if a black coal or two _did_ snap over the cakes? And what if'Phemie's hair _did_ get smoked and "smelly?" Both girls declared cookingbefore an open fire to be great fun. They had yet, however, to learn alot about "how our foremothers cooked."
"I don't for the life of me see how they ever used that brick oven," saidLyddy, pointing to the door in the side of the chimney. "Surely, that holein the bricks would never heat from _this_ fire."
"Ask Lucas," advised 'Phemie, and as though in answer to that word, Lucashimself appeared, bearing offerings of milk, eggs, and new bread.
"Huh!" he said, in a gratified tone, sniffing in the doorway. "I told mawyou two gals wouldn't go hungry. Ye air a sight too clever."
"Thank you, Lucas," said Lyddy, demurely. "Will you have a cup of tea!"
"No'm. I've had my breakfast. It's seven now and I'll go right t' workcutting wood for ye. That's what ye'll want most, I reckon. And I want togit ye a pile ready, for it won't be many days before we start plowin',an' then dad won't hear to me workin' away from home."
Lyddy went out of doors for a moment and spoke to him from the porch.
"Don't do too much trimming in the orchard, Lucas, till I have a look atthe trees. I have a book about the care of an old orchard, and perhaps Ican make something out of this one."
"Plenty of other wood handy, Miss Lyddy," declared the lanky young fellow."And it'll be easier to split than apple and peach wood, too."
'Phemie, meanwhile, had said she would run in and find the candle she haddropped in her fright the night before; but in truth it was more for thepurpose of seeing the east wing of the old house by daylight--and thatskeleton.
"No need for Lyddy to come in here and have a conniption fit, too,"thought the younger sister, "through coming unexpectedly upon that Thingin the case.
"And, my gracious! he might just as well have been the author of thatmysterious speech I heard. I should think he _would_ be tired of stayingshut up in that box," pursued the girl, giggling nervously, as she stoodbefore the open case in which the horrid thing dangled.
Light enough came through the cracks in the closed shutters to reveal toher the rooms that the old doctor had so long occupied.
'Phemie closed the skeleton case and picked up her candle. Then shecontinued her investigation of the suite to the third room. Here wereshelves and work-benches littered with a heterogeneous collection ofbottles, tubes, retorts, filters, and other things of which 'Phemiedid not even know the names or uses.
There was a door, too, that opened directly into the back yard. But thisdoor was locked and double-bolted. She was sure that the person, orpersons, whom she had heard talking the night before had not been in thisroom. When she withdrew from the east wing she locked the green-painteddoor as she had found it; but in addition, she removed the key and hidit where she was sure nobody but herself would be likely to find it.
Later she tackled Lucas.
"I don't suppose you--or any of your folks--were up here last night,Lucas?" she asked the young farmer, out of her sister's hearing.
"Me, Miss? I should say not!" replied the surprised Lucas.
"But I heard voices around the house."
"Do tell!" exclaimed he.
"Who would be likely to come here at night?"
"Why, I never heard the beat o' that," declared Lucas. "No, ma'am!"
"Sh! don't let my sister hear," whispered 'Phemie. "She heard nothing."
"Air you sure----" began Lucas, but at that the young girl snapped him upquick enou
gh:
"I am confident I even heard some things they said. They were men. Itsounded as though they spoke over there by the east wing--_or in thecellar_."
"Ye don't mean it!" exclaimed the wondering Lucas, leading the way slowlyto the cellar-hatch just under the windows of the old doctor's workshop.
This hatch was fastened by a big brass padlock.
"Dad's got the key to that," said Lucas. "Jest like I told you, we havestored vinegar in it, some. Ain't many barrels left at this time o' year.Dad sells off as he can during the winter."
"And, of course, your father didn't come up here last night?"
"Shucks! O' course not," replied the young farmer. "Ain't no vinegar buyeraround in this neighborhood now--an' 'specially not at night. Dad ain'tmuch for goin' out in the evenin', nohow. He does sit up an' read arterwe're all gone to bed sometimes. But it couldn't be dad you heard uphere--no, Miss."
So the puzzle remained a puzzle. However, the Bray girls had so much todo, and so much to think of that, after all, the mystery of the nightoccupied a very small part of 'Phemie's thought.
Lyddy had something--and a very important something, she thought--on hermind. It had risen naturally out of the talk the girls had had when theyfirst went to bed the evening before. 'Phemie had wished for a housefulof company to make Hillcrest less lonely; the older sister had seizedupon the idea as a practical suggestion.
Why not fill the big house--if they could? Why not enter the lists in theland-wide struggle for summer boarders?
Of course, if Aunt Jane would approve.
First of all, however, Lyddy wanted to see the house--the chambersupstairs especially; and she proposed to her sister, when their morning'swork was done, that they make a tour of discovery.
"Lead on," 'Phemie replied, eagerly. "I hope we find a softer bed thanthat straw mattress--and one that won't tickle so! Aunt Jane said we coulddo just as we pleased with things here; didn't she?"
"Within reason," agreed Lyddy. "And that's all very well up to a certainpoint, I fancy. But I guess Aunt Jane doesn't expect us to make use ofthe whole house. We will probably find this west wing roomy enough forour needs, even when father comes."
They ventured first up the stairs leading to the rooms in this wing.There were two nice ones here and a wide hall with windows overlookingthe slope of the mountainside toward Bridleburg. They could see for milesthe winding road up which they had climbed the day before.
"Yes, this wing will do very nicely for _us_," Lyddy said, thinking aloud."We can make that room downstairs where we're sleeping, our sitting-roomwhen it comes warm weather; and that will give us all the rest of thehouse----"
"All but the old doctor's offices," suggested 'Phemie, doubtfully. "Thereare three of them."
"Well," returned Lyddy, "three and four are seven; and seven fromtwenty-two leaves fifteen. Some of the first-floor rooms we'll have touse as dining and sitting-rooms for the boarders----"
"My goodness me!" exclaimed her sister, again breaking in upon herruminations. "You've got the house full of boarders already; have you?What will Aunt Jane say?"
"That we'll find out. But there ought to be at least twelve rooms to let.If there's as much furniture and stuff in all as there is in these----"
"But how'll we ever get the boarders? And how'd we cook for 'em over thatopen fire? It's ridiculous!" declared 'Phemie.
"_That_ is yet to be proved," returned her sister, unruffled.
They pursued their investigation through the second-floor rooms. Therewere eight of them in the main part of the house and two in the east wingover the old doctor's offices. The last two were only partially furnishedand had been used in their grandfather's day more for "lumber rooms"than aught else. It was evident that Dr. Phelps had demanded quiet andfreedom in his own particular wing of Hillcrest.
But the eight rooms in the main part of the house on this second floorwere all of good size, well lighted, and completely furnished. Some ofthem had probably not been slept in for fifty years, for when the girls'mother, and even Aunt Jane, were young, Dr. Apollo Phelps's immediatefamily was not a large one.
"The furniture is all old-fashioned, it is true," Lyddy said,reflectively. "There isn't a metal bed in the whole house----"
"And I had just as lief sleep in a coffin as in some of these high-headedcarved walnut bedsteads," declared 'Phemie.
"You don't have to sleep in them," responded her sister, quietly. "Butsome people would think it a privilege to do so."
"They can have _my_ share, and no charge," sniffed the younger girl. "Thatbed downstairs is bad enough. And what would we do for mattresses? That's_one_ antique they wouldn't stand for--believe me! Straw beds, indeed!"
"We'll see about that. We might get some cheap elastic-felt mattresses,one at a time, as we needed them."
"And springs?"
"Some of the bedsteads are roped like the one we sleep on. Others haveold-fashioned spiral springs--and there are no better made to-day. Therust can be cleaned off and they can be painted."
"I see plainly you're laying out a lot of work for us," sighed 'Phemie.
"Well, we've got to work to live," responded her sister, briskly.
"Ya-as," drawled 'Phemie, in imitation of Lucas Pritchett. "But I don'twant to feel as though I was just living to work!"
"Lazybones!" laughed Lyddy. "You know, if we really got started in thisgame----"
"A game; is it? Keeping boarders!"
"Well?"
"I fancy it's downright hard work," quoth 'Phemie.
"But if it makes us independent? If it will keep poor father out of theshop? If it can be made to support us?" cried Lyddy.
'Phemie flushed suddenly and her eyes sparkled. She seized her more sedatesister and danced her about the room.
"Oh, I don't care how hard I work if it'll do all that!" she agreed. "Comeon, Lyd! Let's write to Aunt Jane right away."