But for two of us the adventures of the night were not yet over. Silencesettled down over the old house--the eerie, whisperful, creeping silenceof night. Felix and Dan were already sound asleep; I was drifting nearthe coast o' dreams when I was aroused by a light tap on the door.
"Bev, are you asleep?" came in the Story Girl's whisper.
"No, what is it?"
"S-s-h. Get up and dress and come out. I want you."
With a good deal of curiosity and some misgiving I obeyed. What was inthe wind now? Outside in the hall I found the Story Girl, with a candlein her hand, and her hat and jacket.
"Where are you going?" I whispered in amazement.
"Hush. I've got to go to the school and you must come with me. I left mycoral necklace there. The clasp came loose and I was so afraid I'd loseit that I took it off and put it in the bookcase. I was feeling so upsetwhen the concert was over that I forgot all about it."
The coral necklace was a very handsome one which had belonged to theStory Girl's mother. She had never been permitted to wear it before, andit had only been by dint of much coaxing that she had induced Aunt Janetto let her wear it to the concert.
"But there's no sense in going for it in the dead of night," I objected."It will be quite safe. You can go for it in the morning."
"Lizzie Paxton and her daughter are going to clean the school tomorrow,and I heard Lizzie say tonight she meant to be at it by five o'clock toget through before the heat of the day. You know perfectly well whatLiz Paxton's reputation is. If she finds that necklace I'll never see itagain. Besides, if I wait till the morning, Aunt Janet may find out thatI left it there and she'd never let me wear it again. No, I'm going forit now. If you're afraid," added the Story Girl with delicate scorn, "ofcourse you needn't come."
Afraid! I'd show her!
"Come on," I said.
We slipped out of the house noiselessly and found ourselves in theunutterable solemnity and strangeness of a dark night. It was a newexperience, and our hearts thrilled and our nerves tingled to the charmof it. Never had we been abroad before at such an hour. The world aroundus was not the world of daylight. 'Twas an alien place, full of weird,evasive enchantment and magicry.
Only in the country can one become truly acquainted with the night.There it has the solemn calm of the infinite. The dim wide fields lie insilence, wrapped in the holy mystery of darkness. A wind, loosened fromwild places far away, steals out to blow over dewy, star-lit, immemorialhills. The air in the pastures is sweet with the hush of dreams, and onemay rest here like a child on its mother's breast.
"Isn't it wonderful?" breathed the Story Girl as we went down the longhill. "Do you know, I can forgive Sara Ray now. I thought tonight Inever could--but now it doesn't matter any more. I can even see howfunny it was. Oh, wasn't it funny? 'DEAD' in that squeaky little voiceof Sara's! I'll just behave to her tomorrow as if nothing had happened.It seems so long ago now, here in the night."
Neither of us ever forgot the subtle delight of that stolen walk. Aspell of glamour was over us. The breezes whispered strange secrets ofelf-haunted glens, and the hollows where the ferns grew were brimmedwith mystery and romance. Ghostlike scents crept out of the meadowsto meet us, and the fir wood before we came to the church was a livingsweetness of Junebells growing in abundance.
Junebells have another and more scientific name, of course. But whocould desire a better name than Junebells? They are so perfect in theirway that they seem to epitomize the very scent and charm of the forest,as if the old wood's daintiest thoughts had materialized in blossom;and not all the roses by Bendameer's stream are as fragrant as a shallowsheet of Junebells under the boughs of fir.
There were fireflies abroad that night, too, increasing the gramarye ofit. There is certainly something a little supernatural about fireflies.Nobody pretends to understand them. They are akin to the tribes offairy, survivals of the elder time when the woods and hills swarmed withthe little green folk. It is still very easy to believe in fairies whenyou see those goblin lanterns glimmering among the fir tassels.
"Isn't it beautiful?" said the Story Girl in rapture. "I wouldn't havemissed it for anything. I'm glad I left my necklace. And I am glad youare with me, Bev. The others wouldn't understand so well. I like youbecause I don't have to talk to you all the time. It's so nice to walkwith someone you don't have to talk to. Here is the graveyard. Are youfrightened to pass it, Bev?"
"No, I don't think I'm frightened," I answered slowly, "but I have aqueer feeling."
"So have I. But it isn't fear. I don't know what it is. I feel as ifsomething was reaching out of the graveyard to hold me--something thatwanted life--I don't like it--let's hurry. But isn't it strange to thinkof all the dead people in there who were once alive like you and me. Idon't feel as if I could EVER die. Do you?"
"No, but everybody must. Of course we go on living afterwards, just thesame. Don't let's talk of such things here," I said hurriedly.
When we reached the school I contrived to open a window. We scrambledin, lighted a lamp and found the missing necklace. The Story Girl stoodon the platform and gave an imitation of the catastrophe of the eveningthat made me shout with laughter. We prowled around for sheer delightover being there at an unearthly hour when everybody supposed we weresound asleep in our beds. It was with regret that we left, and we walkedhome as slowly as we could to prolong the adventure.
"Let's never tell anyone," said the Story Girl, as we reached home."Let's just have it as a secret between us for ever and ever--somethingthat nobody else knows a thing about but you and me."
"We'd better keep it a secret from Aunt Janet anyhow," I whispered,laughing. "She'd think we were both crazy."
"It's real jolly to be crazy once in a while," said the Story Girl.