CHAPTER XVII
THE SECRET ROOM
Dawn was breaking when Paulina left the two girls, telling Jannet thatshe intended to watch for the return of Vittoria. Jannet persuaded Nellto lie down on her bed, but she was too highly keyed over the wholeaffair to feel sleepy. At a suitable time she would call Uncle Pieterand tell him about the discovery. Meanwhile she would go by herself toinvestigate that queer little box of a room.
Nell went soundly to sleep in a few minutes, feeling perfectly safefrom ghosts now in Jannet's room. Jannet sat quietly at her desk untilshe was quite assured that Nell was asleep. Then she rose, picked upher flashlight and the "darling" candlestick with its white candlewhich always stood upon her mantel, a few matches upon its base, andstarted for the attic stairway rather than going by the panel. It mightwaken Nell.
The door of the attic stood open. Paulina, the neat, careful Paulina,had been too much excited to think of closing it! The trap door so nearthe partition also stood open. Jannet peered at a crack in the roughpartition. Yes, there was the outline of where the top of the secretroom stood above the attic floor on the other side of the partition. Apile of lumber, a few odds and ends of boards, rafters and even a fewbricks were cleverly arranged to give the impression of waste materialand nothing important, should anyone be curious enough to peep through.Now, where below was there room for the rest of the secret chamber? ButJannet recalled the long flight of stairs to the attic. Ceilings werehigh in the old house. She recalled, too, that the smooth ceilings ofher closet and the one corresponding to it were quite low, perhaps toconceal any evidence of the circular stairs. The few steps down fromthe attic floor accounted for the secret room below such part of it aswas raised above the attic floor, its outlines concealed.
Jannet could see a glimmer of light from the outside, when she lookeddown into the dark well where the ladder led to the ground floor at thevery wall of the house. She recalled little jogs and irregularitiesdownstairs, but could not place this for a moment. Yet from some crackssomewhere the morning sunlight came dimly through.
"The queer little tool house!" she suddenly thought. She had wonderedwhy in the world that had been inserted in a brick wall. It was shallowand Jannet remembered a sort of rude table that stood against its backwall, "probably concealing the entrance to this secret way," with itsqueer ladder nailed to the wood of the enclosure.
How thrilling it was! Cousin Diana, when she showed Jannet around hadmentioned the tool house and let Jannet peep within when they came toit. "When the wings were built on, this was naturally sealed in,"Cousin Diana had said, "but when Pieter took them away, he painted upthe quaint entrance with its odd latch and open lattice." Perhaps thevery ease of entering the tool house would make no one suspect aconcealed ascent behind it.
She turned to the right and opened the sliding door, finding it moreeasily opened now that she knew how. She was surprised to find lighthere, and looking above, she saw a round window, or ventilator at thetop of the room on the side of the house wall. This, doubtless, matchedthe other one in the attic. But it supplied little light, and shelooked around for a place to set her candlestick. She sat it down onthe shelf, which had most probably been provided for a narrow bed, andsaw that a board or leaf hung down from the wall on hinges. The hingeswere rusty, but still good and Jannet succeeded in raising the boardand propping it with the stick attached, which fitted into a place inthe wall beneath. That was the table, then. It had held the ghostcostume.
Jannet's imagination was working in good order. With a smile she lither candle. "Now I'm 'captive' or 'fugitive,' back in the old days, andthere is a price on my head, perhaps, and I haven't anything toeat,"--but Jannet's heels struck against something of tin that made herlook under the shelf to see what was there. The room was perfectly bareexcept at this place, and Jannet saw only an uninteresting pile of pansand dishes in one corner, all covered thick with dust. An old woodenbox, a wooden pail falling to pieces, and a tin or metal kettle of anodd sort stood in a row. Jannet could scarcely see, through the dust,that the "tin" kettle was of pewter. But Jannet did not like pewterthings anyhow. Cousin Di had laughed at her for this distaste.
"He certainly kept everything under his bed," thought Jannet, in nohurry to touch the dusty things. But under the wooden box she saw thecorner of something made of leather sticking out. With the tips of herfingers the stooping Jannet drew out a queer old portfolio. Thispromised to be of interest. Jannet decided to investigate it right onthe spot, though she wished that she had brought a dust cloth.
But she sacrificed her clean handkerchief to the cause and afterblowing off some of the dust she wiped off most of the rest. Openingout the decaying leather, she found that one pocket had a few papers init. There was a torn paper, conveying some property, that she thoughtwould be interesting to Uncle Pieter, as she glanced at the old writingand the Dutch names. But what was this,--oh, how perfectly wonderful!
For the next ten minutes there was perfect silence in the box of aroom, while the candle fluttered a little and Jannet, wrapt in what shewas reading, almost lost sight of where she was. Many and many a longyear before, some one had read those little notes tucked away in theold portfolio with as much interest and more anxiety. "Dere Father,"ran the first that Jannet pulled from the sticky leather at the side."It is hard to get the food to the attic without being seen. The Captinwatches us or some one is there while we are cooking. But they watch mymother more than they watch me. I put the food on the stair and tapped,but you were asleep, perhaps. I heard a noise and I hastened to go upand closed the trap. There was no one here. Now I will drop this downquickly. It is a good thing that I keep my dolls in the attick. Theylet me play here. I was eating some bread and having my table spreadfor my dolls when the Captin looked within the door to see what I wasdoing this morning. I put my old doll's head on the flagon of water andwrapped it in the plaid coat that Mistress Patience made for the dollthat you brought from England." (And Jannet had found little dishes anddolls in the pretty box of dark wood, whose key had been discovered!)
No name was signed to this. It had been folded tightly to be dropped atthe entrance, Jannet thought, for it was greatly mussed and difficultto read.
A small piece of paper with a large grease spot bore a short message."I made these for you. Mother says that they are tasty."
"Probably doughnuts," smiled Jannet, looking at the grease spot.
But here was a longer letter and in another, older hand. It beganwithout address, or was but a part of the entire message.
"I can only pray that you may not be discovered. Your rash act inopening the panel and entering the room where the captain was sleepingto get the covering, was successful in a way that you may not haveconsidered. The captain did make a to-do about it when he saw that itwas not a dream. The men will not go into the room nor will they gointo the attic since the wind has been making music there. The tale isthat a gaunt ghost, with a clank of sword, appeared by the bed andsnatched the quilt from upon the captain. The door was locked and theguard outside saw no one, yet the quilt was gone. For my sake, Pieter,do not be rash. I will continue to leave word of their movements. Itwill be safer to visit the attic now, I hope. Noises there are thoughtto be the ghost. Jannetje pretended to be frightened, but she can yetvisit her dolls at times. No very good word comes from our troops. OurTory neighbor doth rejoice in unseemly fashion for one who pretended tobe our friend and he is oft at our door in converse with the captain. Iam watched at all times, but I lock my door and write when I am thusalone, putting my messages inside the little waists of Jannetje, whowas ten years of age but yesterday."
The writing stopped at the bottom of the sheet.
One more large piece of paper was written in the childish hand, butcontained only a short message. The paper had been wrapped aboutsomething, Jannet thought. So Jannetje was another ancestress of thename. She spelled and composed well for a child of ten, Jannet decided.
"Mother sends this
," the message said. "Trupers leave to-day. Shethinks that they were only searching for you or waiting for messagesfrom spies. Wait, she says, till she can come to the attick after theCaptin goes away."
This was all. It had happened in Revolutionary times, of course.Jannet's imagination could supply the missing information, or some ofit. Her ancestor had perhaps been visiting his family when the group ofBritish soldiers came upon them too soon for him to escape. Or perhapshe was, indeed, in the work of a spy for General Washington's troops.Wouldn't her uncle and Andy be delighted to read these old messages, soyellowed with age! Carefully Jannet put them again inside of theportfolio, though that, too, was ready to fall apart.
Thinking that there might be some further scrap of informationsomewhere, Jannet began to examine the dusty articles under the shelfor bed. Any bedding that had once been there had probably been removedas soon as the fugitive had found it no longer necessary to stay there.These other things were of no particular value.
But Jannet had scarcely begun to move the round pewter pot from itslong resting place when she heard a sound that startled her. She jumpedto her feet with a moment's panic. Suppose Vittoria, for she was almostsure that the ghost was Vittoria, was hiding somewhere and--but a voiceassured her, before she was fairly on her feet. There was Cousin Andy'sdear head at the top of the secret stairs and peeping in. "What's allthis?" he cheerily inquired. "Are you trying to burn up the house witha candle?"
"Oh no; I'm ever so careful,--but do look out, Cousin Andy, for thoseare bad stairs!"
"Would you care, then, if the old wreck got hurt again?"
"'Old wreck', indeed! You're the best first cousin that I've got, andI'm proud of your scars, if you have any!"
Andrew Van Meter entered and looked curiously around. "I see that thereis a sliding door on this side, too, though Nell did not mention it.She had a telephone message from home, by the way, and left word foryou that she was riding over later in the day if she could. She did notknow where you were, she said, but when I heard the story I couldpretty well guess."
"I did not realize that you all would be up, I've stayed longer herethan I intended to. Oh, Andy,--Cousin Andy--I've found the mostinteresting messages in this old portfolio!"
"Take it with you, then, but I want to see first the way to the attic."
Cousin Andy needed no help up the little steps, but looked down at theladder and the dark descent. "You were wise not to attempt that,Jannet," said he. "Yes, that must be an opening to the old tool house.That was a pretty clever stunt of the old codger who built this, withthree ways of exit, through the attic, the tool house, and yourmother's room. But I would not have cared to occupy that little roomfor any length of time. A six footer would almost graze the ceiling.Yet he could sit comfortably, or stretch out on that shelf."
"Do you suppose that Jan ever found this?" Jannet asked, while theymade their way to the other end of the attic, after Andy had viewed thepartition, and the old carpet, and other things kept over the trap door.
"I do not think so. He would have told us. But it is a wonder thatPaulina, with her tendency to clean up, has not found the trap doorsome time during all these years."
"She was afraid of ghosts, Cousin Andy, but I should think that theworkmen might have found it when they wired the house for lights."
"It is strange, but they missed it somehow."
Andrew viewed with some amusement the little bed made comfortable forthe night and the rocking chair with its comforter and little pillow.The pitcher, which had held the lemonade, and the cooky plate stillremained on the floor. "You missed some of your fudge," said Andy,picking up a piece and putting it in his mouth as he sat down on thebed and looked around. "It is some time since I have been in thisattic. I never cared for attics; I was always for outdoor sports. Didyou know that I can ride again, Jannet?"
"Yes, and I'm so glad. Did _you_ know that I had a long talk with UnclePieter, and that I'm going to stay in the family and not go back toschool?"
"Good. Sensible girl. Dad and I need somebody like you around."
"I shouldn't think that Uncle Pieter needed any more responsibility,and I heard Miss Hilliard say once that every young person was."
"Dad doesn't regard you in that way, I guess. I think that you are an_opportunity_."
"Why, aren't you nice! Oh, it is so _good_ to have a family! Shall youfeel like going if Uncle takes me traveling a little bit?"
"I shouldn't be surprised, if it will make me well. I had no hope ofever being well again until a few weeks ago, Jannet, but things lookvery different now."
Jannet, looking at the more hopeful face, was delighted within herself,for did she not know of someone that was coming this summer, if CousinDi could manage it? Dear Cousin Andy would be happy yet.
But another surprise was at hand for Jannet, for as Andrew spoke theyheard some one in the little hallway, and there in the door stoodCousin Diana and--of all things--Jan!
"Hello, Jannetje," said Jan's none too gentle voice. "So you beat me toit! I'm provoked that I could not have discovered the secret room. Howdo you get there? I just got in and surprised Mother. Say, I was thefellow that took the blue comforter, but I got in a different way. Iwas home the night before you all knew I was there and I had no ideathat there was any one in the room. It was always kept locked anyhow.So I just sneaked in and got a cover. The closet didn't seem to haveany and my bed had only one blanket."
"Why, Jan! And you never saw me or anything?"
"Never even thought of your being there. I knew the way to the bed andI helped myself. If you will be good, I'll show you how I got in afterI see all this."
Jan was off to investigate on his own account, but Jannet detained Mrs.Holt long enough to ask her if Vittoria had come in yet.
"No, she has not reported at all. You feel pretty sure that it was she?"
"Yes, Cousin Di. I'll tell you all about it the first chance I have.But I suppose that Nell gave you a good description of our night uphere."
"She did, indeed. You poor children! I slept on peacefully after ourlate drive home, not knowing that you youngsters were having such atime. You should have called us."
"No use in waking you up, I thought. Where is Uncle Pieter?"
"He had to go out on the farm, but he talked with Paulina and he wantsto see you as soon as he comes in. Here he comes now!"
Stooping and brushing off dust, Mr. Van Meter came from the back, ormore properly the front of the attic. He was smiling and remarked thathe passed an excited boy on the way. "This is a new place for a familyconference," he added. "We have come up in the world, I see."
But Jannet, tired as she was after her experiences of the night, likedthis close gathering with its entire loss of all formality. Shejokingly offered him the rocking chair, but slipped a hand in his asshe told him of the portfolio and its amazing notes. "Nobody _could_have made them up and put them there, could they?"
Uncle Pieter, surprised, put on his glasses and looked at the leatherportfolio with its old pockets. "I think not, Jannet, but let us godown to the library and you shall tell me the whole story from thefirst. I can not get a very connected narrative from Paulina."
Andy threw back his head and laughed at this remark. "Imagine any one'sgetting a connected narrative from P'lina about anything!"
Jannet displayed the old dolls and dishes which the small boxcontained. "If they prove to be the ones referred to," said UnclePieter, "I may have a case made for them and the portfolio."