CHAPTER XXII
An Accusation
On the following Monday afternoon the Reverend T. W. Beasley arrivedin readiness to begin, on Tuesday morning, his task of examining theschool. There was great fluttering in the dove-cot, and much anxietyon the part of the girls to catch the first glimpse of him. They haddecided that, as the brother of their good-looking Principal, he wouldbe tall, fair, and clean-shaven, with classical features, gentle blueeyes, and a soft, persuasive manner--the ideal clergyman, in fact, ofthe storybook, who lives in a picturesque country rectory andcultivates roses. To their disappointment he was nothing of the sort,but turned out to be a short, broad-set little man, with a grey beardand moustache, and keen dark eyes under bushy eyebrows, and aprominent nose that was the very reverse of romantic. He cleared histhroat frequently in a nervous fashion, and when he spoke he snappedout his remarks abruptly, in a very deep voice that seemed to risealmost out of his boots.
"He isn't half as nice as Professor Marshall!" decided the Fifthunanimously.
"Looks as if he had a temper!" ventured Fauvette.
"Oh! it's cruelty to give us viva voces! I'll never dare to answer aquestion!" wailed Aveline.
"I'm afraid he'll be strict," admitted Katherine.
"Perhaps he's nervous too, and scared of us!" suggested Morvyth.
"Don't you believe it!" laughed Raymonde scornfully. "I flatter myselfI'm pretty good at reading faces, and I can see at a glance he's amartinet. That frown gives him away, and the kind of glare he has inhis eyes. I'm a believer in first impressions, and I knew in a secondI wasn't going to like him."
Aveline sighed dramatically.
"It's rough on a poor young girl in her early teens to be put throughan ordeal by a stern and elderly individual who'll have absolutely noconsideration for her feelings."
"Feelings! You'll have your head snapped off!" prophesied Raymonde.
"Why couldn't the Bumble have examined us herself, or at any rate letthe Professor do it?"
"Ask me a harder, child!"
"Well, I think it's very unnecessary to have this Mr. Beasley. BumbleBee, indeed! He's a regular hornet!"
Whatever the private opinion of the Fifth might be on the subject oftheir examiner, they were obliged to hide their injured feelings undera cloak of absolute propriety. The reverend visitor was a solid fact,and all the grumbling in the world could not remove the incubus of hispresence. At nine o'clock on Tuesday morning he would begin hisinquisition, and the girls judged that there would be scant mercy forany sinner who failed to reach the required standard. A terribleatmosphere of gloomy convention pervaded the school. Miss Beasley wasanxious for her pupils to appear at their very best before herscholarly brother, whose ideal of maidenly propriety was almostmediaeval, and she kept a keen eye on their behaviour. Nobody dared tospeak at meal-times, except a whispered request for such necessaryarticles as salt and butter; laughter was out of the question, andeven a smile was felt to be inappropriate. The girls sat subdued anddemure, outwardly the pink of propriety, but inwardly smouldering, andlistened obediently while the visitor, mindful of his educationalposition in the establishment, held forth upon subjects calculated toimprove their minds.
"I don't believe Gibbie likes him either!" opined Katherine, afterMonday night's supper.
"Of course not! He beats her on her own ground. As for the Bumble,she's quite distraught. She keeps glancing at us as if she expectedsomebody all the time to spill her tea, or break a plate, or pull aface, or do something dreadful. We're not usually an ill-behavedset!"
"He's getting on my nerves!" complained Aveline.
"The place is more like a reformatory than a school!" growledMorvyth.
When the post-bag arrived on Tuesday morning, it contained, amongother letters and parcels, a small narrow packet directed to Miss R.Armitage. Miss Gibbs, whose business it was to overlook her pupils'correspondence, was in a particular hurry, as it happened, andinclined for once to scamp her duties.
"What's this, Raymonde?" she asked perfunctorily. "A fountain pen, didyou say? For the exams. I suppose your mother has sent it. There aretwo letters for Aveline and one for Morvyth. You may take them tothem, and tell Daphne I want to speak to her."
Raymonde did not stop for further interrogation. She beat as speedy aretreat as possible, delivered the message and the letters, andfinished unpacking her parcel. Her Form mates, more inquisitive thanMiss Gibbs, gathered round her and began to catechize.
"What have you got there?"
"Did it come by the post?"
"Why, it's a fountain pen, isn't it?"
"Who sent it to you?"
"Did you buy it, then?"
"It looks a jolly nice one!"
"Is it full, or empty?"
"Don't talk all at once, children!" commanded Raymonde loftily. "I'llanswer your questions in proper order, so just behave yourselves!
"1. It is a fountain pen, as anybody with half an eye could see!
"2. It came by the post.
"3. Nobody sent it to me.
"4. I bought it.
"5. It is a jolly nice one.
"6. I have reason to believe it is empty. I'm going to fill it out ofFauvette's bottle."
"Cheek!" returned Fauvette, allowing her friend to help herself to theSwan ink, however. "What puzzles me, is how you managed to buy it."
"Your little head, Baby, is easily puzzled," smiled Raymondeserenely. "It's meant to wear fluffy curls, and not to engage itselfin abstruse problems. I don't advise you to worry yourself over this,unless you can turn it to some account. If the Hornet should ask youfor an original example, you might begin: 'Let A represent a fountainpen, and B my schoolmate, C standing for an unknown quantity----'"
Fauvette, at this point, placed her hand over her chum's mouth.
"Stop it!" she begged beseechingly. "If I get any of those wretched AB and C questions I'll collapse, and disgrace the Form. I've many weakpoints, but mathematics are absolutely my weakest of all. If youfrighten me any more, I shan't have the courage to walk into the exam.room. Do I look presentable? Are my hands clean? And is my hairdecent?"
"You look so much more than presentable that anybody but a hardenedbrute of an examiner would be bowled over by you utterly andentirely."
"I'm sure he hasn't any feelings, so it's no use trying to work uponthem," said Fauvette plaintively.
"Joking apart, Ray, where did you get that fountain pen?" askedMorvyth.
Raymonde's eyes twinkled.
"Little flower, could I tell you that, I'd tell you my heart's secret with it!"
she misquoted.
"But do tell me! I think you might!"
"The more you tease, the less you'll find out!"
The school bell put an end to the conversation, and the girls, withstraightened faces, marched to their places in the big lecture hall.The Reverend T. W. Beasley had taken full command of the examinations,and had introduced several innovations. On former occasions each Formhad sat and written in its own room, but now desks had been placed forthe whole school together, and were so arranged that the Forms satalternately, a junior being sandwiched between each senior. The girlswere hugely insulted. "He suspects we'll copy each other's papers!"thought Raymonde, and flashed her indignation along to Aveline. Shedid not speak, but her expressive glance drew forth a reproof from theexaminer. He cleared his throat.
"Any girl communicating either by speech or otherwise will bedismissed from the room!" he announced freezingly.
After that, the girls scarcely dared to look up from their papers.They studied their questions and wrote away, some fast and furiously,and others with the desponding leisure of those having very little toput down. Mr. Beasley sat upon the platform, toying with hiswatch-chain, and keeping his eye upon the movements of the candidates.Fauvette, finishing long before the others, ventured to raise her eyesas high as his boots, and let them rest there, marvelling at the sizeand thickness of the footgear, and congratulating herself that shecou
ld wear number three.
The morning wore itself slowly away. When the school compared notes at12.30, the girls agreed that they had never in their lives before beengiven such an atrocious and detestable set of examination papers. TheSixth had fared as badly as the Fifth or the juniors, and evenmonitresses were loud in their complaints. Certain viva voces taken inthe afternoon confirmed their ill opinion of their examiner.
"He glares at one till one's frightened out of one's wits!"
"And he hurries so--one hasn't time to answer!"
"And he takes things in quite a different way from what Gibbie does."
"He's no need to be sarcastic!"
"Sarcastic, did you say? I call him downright rude!"
"He evidently doesn't think much of our intellects!"
"Well, we don't think much of him, anyway!"
"I believe he uses pomatum on his hair," confided Fauvette in ashocked whisper.
"My dear, I believe it's bear's grease!" corrected Morvythscornfully.
"This is the most painful week I've ever had to go through in all mylife," bleated Aveline. "Even if I live through it--and that'sdoubtful--I shall be a nervous wreck. They'll have to send me for arest cure during the holidays. I'm not accustomed to becross-questioned as if I were a criminal in the dock!"
"It's a witness, child, you mean," amended Raymonde. "Criminals don'tgenerally give evidence against themselves. But we understand you, allthe same! For two pins I'd sham utter ignorance, and give him somevery surprising answers. Yes, I would, if Gibbie or the Bumble didn'tstick in the room the whole time! That's the worst of it. They'd knowin a second that I was only having him on."
As the week progressed, the school considered itself more and moreill-used. The fact was that the Reverend T. W. Beasley was accustomedto university students, and could not focus his mind to theintellectual range of girls of thirteen to seventeen. Moreover, he wasby nature a reformer. He liked to give others the benefit of hisadvice, and he had much to say in private to his sister upon thesubject of her pupils' lessons and general management. Perhaps poorMiss Beasley had not expected quite so much criticism. She wasaccustomed, nevertheless, to defer to her brother's opinions, and shelistened with due humility, though with much inward perturbation,while he laid down the law upon the education of women. Miss Gibbs,who was a born fighter, was inclined to argue--a disastrous policy,which so nearly ended in what are generally termed "words," that herPrincipal was obliged to ask her (privately) to allow the visitor tostate his views uninterrupted.
The school was so taken up with the stern business on hand, that suchdelights as coon concerts and theatricals were quite in thebackground. On Thursday afternoon, however, Veronica sought outRaymonde.
"I want your money for the Blinded Soldiers' Fund," she said. "I'vegiven in ours, and so have the juniors. Miss Beasley says when she hasit all she'll write a cheque for the amount, and send it to thesecretary."
"But Miss Beasley has our money already," objected Raymonde. "Don'tyou remember? She said she wanted some change, and you came and askedme for it."
"So I did, and brought you back notes instead."
Raymonde shook her head.
"You certainly didn't."
"What nonsense, Ray! You know I brought them," protested Veronicaindignantly. "You were practising, and I said: 'Don't stop, I'll putthem inside your drawer.' Hermie was with me at the time."
A conscious look spread over Raymonde's face. She blushed hotly.
"Was it last Friday?" she asked quickly.
"Of course it was Friday. The notes must be in your drawer. Have youthe key? Then come along, and we'll go and find them."
Raymonde unwillingly followed Veronica upstairs. Her manner wasembarrassed in the extreme. She unlocked her drawer in the bureau, andturned out the possessions she had there, but no notes were amongthem.
"What's become of them?" demanded Veronica sharply.
"I--I really don't know!" faltered Raymonde.
"Then you must find out. As treasurer for your Form, you areresponsible."
"You're sure you put them in my drawer, and not in anybody else's?"
"Certain. It was the bottom one on the right-hand side, and it wasopen just as you left it when you gave me the silver. I couldn't bemistaken."
Raymonde flung herself down on a chair, and buried her face in herhands.
"I want to think," she murmured.
Veronica gazed at her with growing suspicion.
"I'm sorry, but it's my duty to report this to Miss Beasley," sheremarked freezingly.
"Oh, no, please!" pleaded Raymonde, starting up in great agitation."Can't you give me just a few days, and then--well perhaps it will beall right. Leave it over till Saturday."
"It will be all wrong!" said the monitress sternly. "I can'tunderstand you, Raymonde, for either you have the money or youhaven't. If you have, you must hand it over; and if you haven't, we'vegot to find out where it's gone. That's flat! So come along with me atonce to the study."
The Principal, on being told the facts of the case, was astonished anddistressed.
"There may possibly be some misunderstanding," she urged. "Beforeanybody is accused we will make sure that the notes were not placed ina wrong drawer. Tell every member of the Fifth to come at once to thepractising-room, and bring her keys. You will go upstairs with me,Raymonde."
Veronica's message spread consternation through the Form. The girlstrooped to the sanctum with scared faces. They found Miss Beasleythere, looking very grave, and Raymonde, her eyes downcast and hermouth set in its most obstinate mould, standing by the bureau.
"I wish you each to unlock your drawer in my presence," said thePrincipal. "The money collected at your concert is missing, andperhaps it may have been misplaced."
In dead silence the girls complied, every one in turn showing herpossessions. There were certainly no notes among them. Miss Beasleyturned to Veronica.
"What time was it when you took up the money?"
"About five minutes to six, Miss Beasley. It was just before I wentinto preparation. Hermie was with me."
"Did you leave the drawer open or shut?"
"I shut it, but did not lock it. Raymonde's keys were dangling in it.I thought she would lock it for herself when she had finishedpractising."
"Who came into the room next? Maudie Heywood? Then, Maudie, did younotice the keys hanging in the drawer when you arrived at 6.15?"
"No, Miss Beasley, they were certainly not there."
"Thank you, girls, you may go now. Veronica, tell Hermie to go to mystudy and wait for me. Raymonde, you will stay here. I wish to speakto you alone."
The Principal waited until the door had closed on her other pupils,then turned to the white-faced little figure near the bureau.
"Raymonde, this is a sad business," she said solemnly. "You had betterconfess at once that you have taken this money."
CHAPTER XXIII
A Mystery Unravelled
Raymonde started, and faced the Principal with flaming eyes.
"I didn't! I didn't!" she protested.
"Then where is it?"
"That I don't know."
"Perhaps you will explain," continued Miss Beasley, watching hersearchingly, "how it is that you were seen at Marlowe post office onFriday afternoon, and that you bought a postal order for twelve andsixpence. Oh, Raymonde, you may well blush! Mrs. West was calling onlyan hour ago, and told me that she had seen you in the shop. She askedif I knew about it, or if you had been there without leave. Why didyou get a postal order?"
Raymonde was silent for a moment. Then:
"To send for a fountain pen," she stammered.
"You admit that you visited the post office? Now, I know that you hadfinished all your pocket-money. You drew the last of your allowancefrom me on the day of your concert."
"I had a pound-note of my own, put away in my handkerchief case. Myuncle gave it to me last holidays."
"If that is so, then where is the money for which you weretreasurer?"<
br />
"I don't know."
"Raymonde, I can't believe such a story. You're not telling me thetruth!"
"Indeed, indeed I am!" burst out Raymonde. "Oh! what shall I do? Ican't explain, and I can't say any more. If you'd only wait a fewdays!"
"Indeed I shall not wait," returned the headmistress coldly. "Thematter must be investigated at once."
Miss Beasley, greatly upset by such a happening in her school,consulted her brother as to her best course to pursue. On learning thecircumstances he took a very grave view of the case.
"There's little doubt of the girl's guilt," he declared. "Sheevidently yielded to a sudden temptation. She wanted a fountain pen intime for the examinations, and she borrowed the notes which had beenleft in her charge, in order to send for it. Probably she wrote homefor more money, and expected to be able to replace it, and that is theexplanation of her asking for a few days' grace. It seems to me asclear as daylight, and I should deal with her as she deserves."
"May I ask one question?" said Miss Gibbs, who also had been called tothe conclave. "How is it that Mrs. West affirms that she saw Raymondein the post office at six o'clock on Friday, while Veronica and Hermiedeclare that at five minutes to six she was sitting at the piano inthe practising-room? It is not possible to reach the village in fiveminutes."
Miss Beasley started. This aspect of the matter had not occurred toher.
"It's very perplexing!" she murmured.
"Raymonde has been troublesome," continued Miss Gibbs, "but I havealways found her scrupulously straight and truthful. Such a lapse asthis seems to me utterly foreign to her character."
"You never know what a girl will do till she's tried!" commented theRev. T. W. Beasley. "Better expel her at once, as a warning to theothers."
"Give her a chance!" pleaded Miss Gibbs. "The evidence is really sounsatisfactory. Wait a day or two, and see if we can sift it!"
"I wish I knew what is best!" vacillated the Principal. "It is so nearthe end of the term that it seems a pity to send Raymonde home tillnext week, when she would be going in any case. I will call at thepost office, and make enquiries as to the exact time she came therelast Friday. I think I won't decide anything before Saturday."
Miss Beasley stuck to this determination, in spite of her brother'sprotests against over-leniency and lack of discipline. She excusedherself on the ground that she did not wish to disturb theexaminations, which were to continue until Friday evening. MeanwhileRaymonde was in the position of a remanded prisoner at the bar. Shewas not allowed to mingle with the rest of the school. She wasconducted, under Mademoiselle's escort, to her place in theexamination hall, but spent the remainder of her time in thepractising-room, which served as a temporary jail. Her meals were sentup to her, and no girl was allowed, under penalty of expulsion, toattempt to communicate with her. She was not permitted to go to thedormitory at night, but slept on a chair-bed in Miss Beasley'sdressing-room.
Naturally the episode was the talk of the school. Its interesteclipsed even the horror of the examinations. It seemed a mysterywhich no one could disentangle. The girls remembered only too wellthat Raymonde had been very secretive about how she had obtained thefountain pen; but, on the other hand, witnesses declared that they hadseen her both at the post office and in the practising-room, when shecertainly could not have been in two places at once.
The Fifth decided that the Reverend T. W. Beasley must be at thebottom of it. There had never been any disturbances before he came tothe school, and since his arrival everything had been unpleasant,therefore he must be distinctly responsible for Raymonde'smisfortunes; which was hardly a reasonable conclusion, however loyalit might be to their friend. The Mystics talked the matter over inprivate, and suggested many bold but quite impracticable schemes, suchas subscribing the missing money amongst them, or throwing up arope-ladder to the sanctum window for Raymonde to escape by, neitherof which plans would have cleared her character.
Raymonde herself preserved an extraordinary attitude of obstinacy. Sheutterly refused to give any more explanations. She did not cry, butthere was a grey misery in her face that was worse than tears. Shewalked in and out of the examination hall with her head proudly erect.Her comrades, with surreptitious sympathy, glanced up as she passed,but under the lynx eye of their examiner were unable to convey to herthe notes which several of them at least had prepared ready to passunder the desk.
On Friday afternoon Raymonde was sitting alone in the practising-room,when the door was unlocked and Veronica entered with a tray.
"I've come to bring your tea," explained the monitress. "I don'treally know whether I'm supposed to be allowed to talk to you, butMiss Beasley didn't tell me not to, so I shall. Look here, Ray, whydon't you end this wretched business?"
"I only wish I could!" groaned Raymonde.
"But you can. There's something behind it all, I'm sure. Take myadvice, and explain it to Miss Beasley. She'd be quite decent aboutit."
Raymonde shook her head sadly and silently.
"Yes, she would, if you'd only confess. I can't understand you, Ray.You were always a madcap, but you never did anything underhand orsneaky before; even when you were naughtiest you were quite square andabove-board."
"Thank you!" smiled Raymonde faintly.
"I can't think why you should have changed, and conceal everything!Ray, I appeal to your best side. You signed our Marlowe Grange League,and seemed quite enthusiastic about it at the time. Won't you try tolive up to it now?"
Raymonde rose to her feet. In her eyes were two smouldering fires.
"You can't understand!" Her voice was trembling with passion. "It'sexactly because I signed that paper and promised to be faithful to myfriends and to speak the truth, that I'm in all this trouble. No, Itell you I won't explain! If you think so badly of me that you won'tbelieve my word, it's no use my speaking to you. Oh! I hate everybody,and I hate everything! I wish I could go home!"
"Better stay and clear things up!" said Veronica. "If I could doanything for you, I would."
"Would you?" asked Raymonde with a flash of hope. "Could you possiblyget a letter posted for me?"
Veronica shook her head.
"I daren't!" she said briefly. "Miss Beasley trusted me to bring upyour tea, and I mustn't forget I'm a monitress. I shall have to tellher that I've been speaking to you. I ought to go now. Good-bye!"
Raymonde drank her tea, but left the bread and butter untouched. Shewas not hungry, and her head ached. The whole of her gay, carelessworld seemed to have crumbled to ashes. She wondered what her chumswere thinking of her. Did they, like Veronica, mistrust her conduct?She knew that her behaviour was extraordinary. A sense of utterdesolation swept over her, and, pushing aside the tea things, sheleaned her arms on the table, with her hot face pressed against them.
From this despairing attitude she was aroused by Miss Gibbs, who fiveminutes later came to fetch the tray.
"Don't give way, Raymonde!" said the mistress, laying quite a kindlyhand on the girl's shoulder. "There's to be proper enquiry into thismatter to-morrow, and I, for one, trust you'll be able to clearyourself. Keep your self-control, and be prepared to answer anyquestions that are put to you then. Remember there's nothing likecourage and speaking the truth."
"THE DOOR OPENED WITH A FORCIBLE JERK, AND A STRANGERENTERED"]
Raymonde raised herself slowly, hesitated for a moment, then fumbledin her pocket.
"Miss Gibbs," she faltered, "I'd love to tell you everything, but Ican't. I wonder if you'd trust me enough to send off this letterwithout opening it, or asking me what I've written in it?"
The mistress took the envelope and examined it. It was addressed toMiss V. Chalmers, Haversedge Manor, near Byfield. She looked intoRaymonde's eyes as if she would read her very soul. Her pupil bore thescrutiny without flinching.
"It is a most unwarrantable thing to ask, but I will do it," repliedMiss Gibbs. "I hope my confidence in you will be justified."
At 9.30 on the following morning a trap arrived at the Gra
nge toconvey the Reverend T. W. Beasley and his Gladstone bag to the railwaystation. A row of heads peeping from behind the curtains in the upperwindows watched him depart, and exhibited manifestations of intensesatisfaction.
"There! He's actually gone!"
"Only hope he won't miss his train and come back!"
"No, no! He's in heaps of time, thank goodness!"
"Glad he isn't staying the week-end!"
"He's got to preach somewhere in aid of something on Sunday."
"May he never come here again, that's all!"
Perhaps in secret Miss Beasley was equally relieved. She had passed astrenuous week, and had possibly arrived at the conclusion that shewas, on the whole, capable of arranging her own school to thesatisfaction of herself and the parents of her pupils. She consideredthat she understood girls better than a bachelor university don,however great his literary attainments, could do. The experiment hadnot been altogether a success, and need not be repeated. She sighed asshe waved a last good-bye and turned into the house.
An urgent matter, which she had put off until her brother's departure,must now claim her attention. She ordered the entire Fifth Form,together with Hermie and Veronica, to repair to the practising-room,where Raymonde was still kept prisoner.
The girls marched in as quietly as if they were going to church. TheirPrincipal sat by the table, with two little parallel lines of worry onher usually smooth forehead, and a grieved look in her grey eyes.
"It is very distressing to me to be obliged to make this enquiry," shebegan, "but it is absolutely necessary that we find out what hasbecome of those missing notes. I put you all on your honour to tell mewhat you know. Can any girl throw any light on the matter?"
She looked anxiously and wistfully round the little circle, but nobodyreplied. Raymonde sat with downcast eyes, and the old obstinateexpression on her face. The eyes of all the other girls were focusedupon her.
"I am most loath to accuse anyone of such a dreadful thing as takingmoney," continued Miss Beasley, "but unless you can offer me someexplanation, Raymonde, I shall be obliged to send you home. The factslook very black against you. You were treasurer, and cannot producethe funds; you were seen buying a postal order, and you received ahandsome fountain pen by post."
"If you please, Miss Beasley," interposed Veronica, "how couldRaymonde be buying a postal order when Hermie and I saw her practisinghere?"
"It is most puzzling, I allow; but both Mrs. Sims the postmistress,and Mrs. West, who happened to be buying groceries in the shop, agreeemphatically that it was Raymonde who came to the counter. They saythat she was not in school uniform, but wore a green dress and a smallcap."
"Raymonde has no green dress!"
"But she has admitted to me that she bought the postal order."
The girls looked at their chum in consternation. Raymonde buried herface in her hands.
At this critical juncture there was the sound of a scrimmage outsidein the passage, and a loud excited voice was heard proclaiming:
"I will go in! I tell you I've come to see Miss Raymonde Armitage, andit's important. Miss Beasley there? All the better! I want to speak toher too. Will you kindly move out and let me pass? Oh, very wellthen--there!"
The door opened with a forcible jerk, and a stranger enteredunceremoniously. She was a damsel of perhaps fifteen, slim, and verypretty, with twinkling brown eyes and curly hair and coral cheeks. Shewore an artistic dress of myrtle-green Liberty serge, with apicturesque muslin collar, and had a chain of Venetian beads round herwhite throat.
The school gazed at her spellbound, almost aghast.
"The ghost-girl!" murmured Veronica faintly sinking into a chair.
"Violet!" exclaimed Raymonde in tones of ecstasy.
"Yes, here I am, right enough!" announced the stranger. "Cycled overdirectly I read your letter. Stars and stripes! You've got yourselfinto a jolly old mess! Hope they haven't tortured you yet! I supposethey still use the rack and the thumbscrew in this benighted country?Cheero! We'll pull you through somehow!"
Then, catching the Principal's amazed and outraged expression, shecontinued: "Sorry! Are you Miss Beasley? I ought to have introducedmyself. I do apologize! My name's Violet Chalmers, and I'm anAmerican."
She proclaimed the fact proudly, though her soft r in "American," andslightly nasal intonation, would have established her nationalityanyway.
"May I ask your errand?" said the head mistress rather stiffly.
"Certainly. I've come to help Raymonde out of a scrape. I neverdreamed she'd be landed in such a queer business as this. I say, Ray,will you explain, or shall I do the talking?"
"You, please!" entreated Raymonde.
"Well, as I've just said, I'm an American. We crossed the herring-pondjust before the war started, and we've been stuck in this old countryever since. Before you all came to the Grange we rented the place fora year, and a time we had of it, too, with rats and bats, and burstpipes, and no central heating or electric light! Mother went almostcrazy! Well, last Easter, when I was staying at the seaside, I metRaymonde, and we chummed no end. She told me that her school wasmoving in here, and I bet her a big box of Broad Street pop-corns I'dturn up some time in the house and astonish the girls. I onlybargained that she wasn't to let any of them know beforehand of myexistence. Well, I guess I kept my word. I joined in a game ofhide-and-seek one dark afternoon, and I reckon I passed off as afirst-class ghost. Didn't I chuckle, just! You wonder how I got inwithout anybody seeing me? Why, I'd discovered the secret passage thatleads, from a sliding panel in the attic, right under the moat into acave inside the wood."
"Joyce Ferrers' passage!" exclaimed the girls.
"The very same. I rode over on my bicycle--we're staying only eightmiles away--left it inside the cave, lighted my lamp, and strolled upto the attic as easily as you please. There was the whole schooltearing around like mad, so I scuttled round too, and scared you justsome! It was so prime, I guessed I'd try it on again. That wasyesterday week. I'd luck enough to catch Raymonde, and she was a sportthat day too. We changed clothes, and I came downstairs here and didher practising for her, while she explored the secret passage and dida little shopping on her own account in the village."
"Then it was you, and not Raymonde, whom we saw sitting at the piano!"exclaimed Veronica.
Violet nodded.
"Exactly so! I guessed I was going to be found out, and daren't turnmy head when you spoke."
"Did you see the notes put into the drawer?" enquired Miss Beasley.
"No, but I saw them afterwards, lying just on the top of some otherpapers. I locked the drawer before I left the room, and put the bunchof keys inside the pocket of Raymonde's dress, which I had on. I meantto tell her about it, but I forgot. She was in such a hurry when shecame back, and said she'd be late for prep., so we each scrambled intoour own clothes, and she tore off downstairs, and I went home."
"This, unfortunately, does not bring us any nearer to the solution ofthe puzzle--what has become of the notes?" said Miss Beasley.
"Raymonde couldn't have spent them in the village, when she had goneout before they were put there!" ventured Veronica.
"And I certainly didn't abscond with them!" declared Violet. "Though Ireally believe Ray thinks so. Confess you do, old sport!"
Raymonde blushed crimson.
"I thought you'd taken them for a joke," she said in a low voice.
"Is that why you refused to explain?" interposed the Principalquickly. "You were afraid of getting your friend into trouble?"
"Yes, Miss Beasley."
"But what's become of the wretched notes?" asked Violet; "They must besomewhere. Have you looked properly through this old bureau? I knowthese queer shallow drawers by experience, and things sometimes slipover the backs of them. Have you had the drawer right out? It's stuck,has it? Oh, it probably only wants a good pull! Lend me your key! Heregoes!"
Violet exerted all her strength in a mighty tug, and the drawertumbled out with a jerk. She put in her hand and felt
about in thespace behind. There was a large hole in the back of the bureau, andher fingers went through it into a cavity in the wall.
"There's something queer here!" she exclaimed, drawing out a roundball of shreds of paper. "Mrs. Mouse's nursery, if I don't mistake!Sorry to intrude, but we'll take a peep at the children!"
Very gingerly she pulled aside the torn pieces of paper, and disclosedto view four little atoms not much bigger than bluebottles.
"Baby mice!" squealed the girls.
"Shame to disturb them, but I've got to examine their cradle. Ah! whatd'you make of this, now? If it isn't a piece of a ten-shilling note,I'll--I'll swallow the babies!"
"You are most undoubtedly right!" declared Miss Beasley, picking upthe shreds of paper and trying to piece them together. "The mouse musthave taken them out of the drawer to help to build her nest."
"Rather an expensive nursery!" chuckled Violet. "Well, I guess we'veproved who's the thief, anyway!"
"I am extremely obliged to you," said Miss Beasley. "But for you, thematter might always have remained a mystery."
"And please forgive me for interfering. It was cheek, I know, to turnup in the attic, but I couldn't resist the secret passage. I thinkthis old place must be ripping as a school. I want to come next term.We'd intended to go home to New York in September, but Dad heard thismorning he'd have to stay here another couple of years on business,so he said he guessed I'd best settle down and learn to be aBritisher. Would you have me here?"
"That depends on whether your father wishes to send you to me ornot."
"Oh! Dad'll let me do anything I like, so it's as good as settled.I'll arrive with my boxes in September. Look here, it's cheek again,but will you please not scold Raymonde for all this affair? It wasmostly my fault."
"Raymonde had no business to change places with you, and go to thevillage without leave," said Miss Beasley, eyeing her pupilreprovingly. "But I think she has been punished enough. She may takeyou downstairs now, and ask Cook to give you some cake and a glass ofmilk before you cycle home again."
"Thanks ever so! I came without my breakfast. I'm real hungry now.I'll talk Dad over, and get him to write to you about my coming toschool here. I'm dead nuts on it. Good-bye!"
* * * * *
"Well," murmured Veronica to Hermie, as Violet, with a final squeezeof the Principal's hand, made her smiling exit; "well, all I can sayis that if this American girl comes next September there'll be livelydoings! Raymonde's bad enough--but to have two madcaps in the school!I'm thankful I'm leaving!"
"I pity the monitresses!" agreed Hermie.
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