CHAPTER XIV
The Beacon Fire
The girls at the Dower House were extremely keen upon celebrating, withdue ceremony, every festival that was marked in the calendar. Theybobbed for apples on All-Hallows Eve, made toffee and let off fireworkson 5th November, tried to revive St. Valentine's fete on 14th February,practised the usual jokes on 1st April, and plaited garlands of flowerson May Day. They had thoroughly enjoyed Life-boat Monday, and now turnedtheir attention to providing adequate rejoicings on Empire Day. Allthrough the winter they had been collecting drift-wood on the beach, andcarrying it to the headland to form the huge bonfire which they intendedshould be a beacon for the neighbourhood. They had built up their pilewith skill and science, and, thanks to their heroic exertions, it hadreached quite large and important proportions. A kindly wind had driedthe wood, so that there was every prospect of its burning well, and Mrs.Trevellyan had promised a large can of paraffin, to be poured on at thelast moment before lighting, so as to ensure a blaze. The only flaw inthe arrangement was the fact that the sun did not set until past eighto'clock, and that owing to the long twilight it would probably not bereally dark until ten, so that the effect of their beacon would beslightly marred.
"If we could have had it at midnight!" sighed Annie Pridwell.
"Yes, that would have been scrumptious, if we could have got people tocome. Ronnie wouldn't have been allowed."
"No; Mrs. Trevellyan's making a great concession as it is to let himstop up till nine. It's a pity she's laid up with sciatica, and can'tcome herself."
"She'll watch it from a window, and Miss Herbert will bring Ronnie."
Mrs. Trevellyan had been extremely kind in the matter of the bonfire;she had given Miss Birks carte blanche in respect to it, and told her toregard the headland as her private property for the evening, and ask anyguests whom she wished to join in the celebration. Quite a number ofinvitations had been sent out to various friends in the neighbourhood,and a merry gathering was expected. Some were to arrive at the schooland walk over the warren, and others had decided to come by boat to thelittle cove directly under the headland, an easier means of getting fromPorthmorvan or St. Gonstan's than going round by road.
Naturally, the girls were all at the very tiptop of expectation: eventhe dignified Sixth betrayed signs of excitement, and VB was in a stateverging on the riotous. To their credit they all accomplished theirshortened evening preparation with exemplary quiet and diligence, butonce released, and speeding over the warren to the headland, theyallowed their overwrought spirits to find relief. They danced ragtimes,sang, halloed, and cooeed, and generally worked off steam, so that bythe time they reached the beacon they had calmed down sufficiently tosatisfy Miss Birks's standard of holiday behaviour, and not make anexhibition of themselves before visitors.
Already people were beginning to arrive both by land and sea. Miss Birksbrought a select party who had motored from Kergoff, and at least half adozen boats were beached upon the little cove. Ronnie was already on thescene in charge of Miss Herbert, immensely proud of being allowed to situp beyond his usual bedtime, and running here, there, and everywhere inthe exuberance of his supreme satisfaction.
The girls had fixed a stake into the rocks close by, from which a UnionJack floated to give the key-note of the proceedings, and had preparedbuttonholes of daisies, the Empire flower, to present to all the guests.They had twisted daisy-chains round their own hats, and even decoratedtheir flagstaff with a long garland, so they felt that they had doneeverything possible to manifest their loyalty to King George. Mrs.Trevellyan's head gardener had brought the large can of paraffin, andfilling a greenhouse syringe from it, began carefully to spray the wood,especially in the places where it was most important for the fire tocatch. The company then drew back, and formed a circle at a safe andrespectful distance. A thin train of gunpowder was laid down, and underthe gardener's careful superintendence Ronnie was allowed the immenseprivilege of applying a taper to the end. The light flared up, and woundlike a fiery snake to the beacon, where, catching a piece of gorsesoaked with paraffin, it started the whole pile into a glorious blaze.Up and up soared the flames, roaring and crackling, and making as muchado as if the Spanish armada had been sighted again and it were warningthe neighbourhood to arms. The girls could not help starting threecheers, the guests joined lustily, and Ronnie, almost beside himselfwith excitement, pranced about like a small high-priest officiating atsome heathen ceremonial rite.
Miss Birks had added a delightful feature to the celebration byproviding a picnic supper. It was of course impossible to hang kettleson the beacon, but the large cauldron had been brought, and was soon atwork boiling water to make coffee and cocoa. The girls helped to unpackhampers of cups and saucers, and to arrange baskets of cakes, and whenthe bonfire had formed a sufficient deposit of hot ashes, rows ofpotatoes were placed round it to cook, and to be eaten later. It was avery merry supper, as they sat on the short grass of the headland, withthe beacon blazing on one hand, and on the other the western sky allglorious with the copper afterglow of sunset. The new moon, like a goodomen, shone over the sea, and from far, far away came the distant chimeof bells, stealing almost like elfin music over the water. From thebeach below came the long-drawn, monotonous cry of a curlew.
"The fairies are calling!" whispered Gerda to Ronnie. "Listen! This isjust the time for their dancing--the new moon and the sunset. They'll bewhirling round and round and round in the creek over there."
"Really? Oh, Gerda! could we truly, truly see them?"
The little fellow's blue eyes were wide with eagerness. He sprang on hisfriend's knee, and clutched her tightly round the neck.
"You promised you'd take me!" he breathed in her ear.
"Yes, if you're very quiet, and don't tell. Not a living soul must knowbut you and me. If anyone else sees us the fairies will all just vanishaway. They can't bear mortals to know their secrets."
"But they'll let you and me?"
"Yes, you shall see the Queen of the Fairies, and she'll give you akiss."
"Oh, do let us go, quick!"
"In a moment. Remember, nobody must notice. Let us walk over there, andpretend we're looking at the flag. Now, come gently round this rock.Hush! We must steal away if we're to find fairies! I believe we're outof sight now. Not a soul can see us. Give me your hand, darling, andwe'll run."
It was perhaps a few minutes after this that Miss Herbert, who had beenengaged in a pleasant conversation with the curate from Kergoff, missedher small charge.
"Where's Ronnie?" she asked anxiously.
"I saw him just now," said Miss Harding. "He was with the girls asusual. Gerda Thorwaldson had him in tow."
"If he's with Gerda he's all right," returned Miss Herbert, evidentlyrelieved. "She's always so very careful. No doubt they'll turn updirectly."
"I expect they're only fetching more potatoes from the hamper," said thecurate. "We'll soon hunt them up if they don't put in an appearance."
Deirdre, who was standing near, chanced to overhear these remarks, and,jealous of Gerda's hold over Ronnie, turned in search of the missingpair. They were not by the bonfire, it was certain, nor were they amongany of the groups of girls and guests who still sat finishing cups ofcoffee, and laughing and chatting, Deirdre walked to where the hamper ofpotatoes had been left, but her quest was still unrewarded. She returnedhastily, and calling her chum, drew her aside.
"Gerda and Ronnie have disappeared," she explained briefly. "I don'tlike the look of it. Gerda has no right to monopolize him as she does. Ivote we go straight and find them, and bring them back."
The two girls set out at once, and as luck would have it, turned theirsteps exactly in the direction where the truants had gone. They ran downthe steep hillside behind the flagstaff, till they reached a broadterrace on the verge of the cliff overhanging the cove where the boatswere moored. Ronnie was so fond of boats that they thought he hadperhaps persuaded Gerda to take him to the beach to look at them.
Advancing as near t
o the edge as they dared, they peeped over on to thesands. There was nobody to be seen, only the row of small craft lying onthe shingle, just as they had seen them an hour ago. The tide had risenhigher, and had begun to lap softly against them, but was not yetsufficiently full to float them; moreover they were all secured withstout cables. Stop! There was something different. Surely there had onlybeen six boats before, and now there was a seventh added to thenumber--a seventh in whose shadow lurked the dark figure of a man.Suddenly from the beach below rang out Ronnie's clear, rippling laugh,followed by an instant warning "Sh! sh!" and immediately he and Gerdastepped from the shadow of the cliff on to the shingle. They ran hand inhand towards the seventh boat, and the boatman, without waiting amoment, jumped them in, one after the other, pushed off, sprang into hisseat, and began to row rapidly away across the creek.
"Look! Look!" gasped Deirdre in an agony of horror. "It's the man in thebrown jersey!"
Of his identity they were certain. Even in the failing light they couldnot be mistaken. And he was kidnapping Ronnie under the very eyes of hisfriends--Ronnie, the "King of the Castle", the idol of the school, andthe one treasure of Mrs. Trevellyan's old age! Where were they takinghim? Was he to be held for ransom? Or kept in prison somewhere as ahostage? Gerda, with her smooth, insinuating ways, had betrayed him, andled him away to his fate.
"We must save him!" gasped Deirdre. "Save him before it is too late!Quick, quick! Let us run down to the shore. We mustn't let them get outof our sight."
The two girls tore frantically down the path which led to the sea insuch haste that they had not time to realize their own risk of slipping.That Ronnie was being kidnapped was the one idea of paramountimportance. As they reached the belt of shingle the dinghy had alreadycrossed the creek, and was heading round the corner of the cliffs to thewest.
"What can we do?" moaned Dulcie, wringing her hands in an agony ofdespair. "Shall we go and call Miss Birks, and get somebody to followthem with a boat?"
"By the time we'd fetched anybody they'd be hopelessly out of sight, andgone--goodness knows where. No! If Ronnie's to be saved, we must act atonce, and follow them ourselves. You can row, can't you?"
"Yes, I learnt last holidays at home on the river."
"So can I. Then come, let's choose the lightest boat we can find. Wemustn't waste a minute. We're both strong, and ought to be able tomanage."
After a hasty review they selected a small skiff as looking the mostlikely to respond to amateur seamanship, and loosing the cable, whichhad been secured round a rock, coiled it and placed it inside. The tidehad risen so fast that it did not require any very great effort to pushoff the boat.
"Are you ready?" said Deirdre. "Don't mind getting your feet wet; itcan't be helped. Now, then! Heave, oh! She's off!"
With a simultaneous splash the two girls scrambled on board in the verynick of time, and, taking their places, gingerly unshipped the oars.They were neither of them skilled for their task, and both realized thatit was rather a wild and risky proceeding. For Ronnie's sake, however,they would have ventured far more, so they mutually hid their feelings,and pretended it was quite an everyday, easy kind of performance. Ifthey had not much experience, their zeal and their strong young armsmade the light little skiff fly like a sea-swallow, and they had soongained the headland round which the other boat had disappeared. Verycautiously they proceeded, for fear of currents, but they managedsuccessfully to pilot their craft past a group of half-sunken rocks andtake her round the corner into the next bay. In front through thegathering darkness they could just distinguish the object of theirpursuit making a landing upon the opposite shore. They could hear thegrating of the keel on the shingle and an excited exclamation fromRonnie. They strained their eyes to watch what was happening. The man inthe jersey helped Gerda to land, then taking Ronnie on his back stroderapidly away with him, Gerda walking close by his side. In anothermoment they had disappeared behind a group of rocks.
If the girls rowed fast before, they now redoubled their efforts. Bothwere flushed and panting, but they struggled valiantly on, andsucceeded in beaching their skiff within a few yards of the whitedinghy. They did not wait to cable her, but, anxious not to lose amoment of valuable time, made off in quest of the fugitives. At theother side of the group of rocks it was lighter, for they faced thewest, and caught the last departing glories of the sunset. On the sands,bathed in the golden dying gleam of the afterglow, a lady was kneelingand clasping little Ronnie tightly in her arms. Even from the distancewhere they stood the chums could see how very fair and pretty she was.Her hat had fallen on the beach, and her flaxen head was pressed closelyagainst the child's short curls.
"Why, she's actually kissing him!" exclaimed Dulcie.
The scene was so utterly unanticipated, and so entirely different fromwhat they had expected to find, that the two girls stood for a momentalmost at a loss. At that instant Gerda spied them, and turning to hercompanions made some remark in a low tone. The lady immediately loosedRonnie and rose to her feet. Seeing their presence was discovered, thechums judged it best to walk boldly forward. They had come to rescueRonnie, and it seemed high time to interfere.
"Miss Herbert's looking for you! You must go back with us at once," saidDulcie, laying an appropriating hand on the child's shoulder and glaringdefiance at his kidnappers.
Gerda had blushed crimson. She looked egregiously caught. She glanced atthe faces of her fellow conspirators as if seeking advice. The man inthe brown jersey nodded.
"Yes--we'll go back at once," she stammered. "I--I was only trying togive Ronnie some fun."
"Miss Herbert doesn't think it fun," said Dulcie grimly. "You'd nobusiness to take him away!"
The chums each seized the little boy by a hand and began to hurry himalong towards the boats.
"But where are the fairies? Gerda promised I should see the fairies!" heobjected.
"The fairies can't dance now, dear," replied Gerda sadly. "You rememberI said they could only come if nobody was watching."
In silence the whole party returned to the shingle bank. Deirdre andDulcie were too indignant for words, and Gerda seemed overwhelmed withembarrassment. The fair-haired lady was crying quietly. Still, keeping atight hold on Ronnie, the chums approached their skiff. Then for thefirst time the man in the brown jersey spoke.
"You'd better all come into my boat," he remarked briefly. "I'll fastenyours on to the stern and tow her along."
The chums started with surprise. Instead of the local dialect of afisherman or, as they expected, the foreign accent of a German, he hadthe cultured, refined tone of an English gentleman. For a moment theyhesitated. Did he mean to kidnap them as well as Ronnie? Perhaps he sawthe doubt in their eyes.
"You needn't be afraid. I'll take you straight back," he urged.
Glad to escape the risky task of rowing round the point and steeringclear of dangerous currents, the girls consented, though rather underprotest, and wondering at the novelty of the situation which had madethem, the pursuers, return in charge of the stranger whom they stilldistrusted. They sat in the stern, with Ronnie between them, guardinghim like two faithful bulldogs. The lady stood upon the shore watchingthem as the boat pushed off. There was a sad, wistful look in her eyes.She did not attempt to say good-bye.
The chums felt considerably relieved when at last they arrived at thecove again in safety. The man in the brown jersey helped them all toland without a word; then he unloosed the skiff, beached her on theshingle whence she had been taken, and rowed out alone into the bay.Ronnie was growing sleepy; it took all Deirdre's and Dulcie's efforts tohelp him up the steep cliffside. Gerda followed a short way behind. MissHerbert, who had really been uneasy about her charge, hailed theirarrival with relief.
"Here you are at last! Where have you been, Ronnie? To see fairies!Gerda mustn't tell you such nonsense. Wake up! We must be going home atonce. It's after nine o'clock."
The bonfire had burnt low, and the girls were packing the cups intobaskets, ready to be carried to the Dower Ho
use.
"We ought to tell Miss Birks about this," whispered Dulcie, and Deirdreagreed with her.
Late as it was when they got in, the two girls sought the Principal inher study and poured out the whole of the story--their alarm on Ronnie'sbehalf, their dread of the man in the brown jersey, and their suspicionthat Gerda was a German spy plotting against the country. Miss Birkslistened most attentively, putting in a question here and there.
"I don't think either England or Ronnie is in any immediate danger," shesaid. "You may make your minds easy on that respect. I shall have a wordwith Gerda presently. You have done right to tell me; but now you mayleave the whole matter safely in my hands, and need not worry yourselvesany more over it. On no account talk about it to anybody in the school,and unless Gerda refers to it herself, do not mention the subject toher."
"Trust Gerda not to speak of it," said Dulcie as they went upstairs."The Sphinx isn't likely to offer to unravel the mystery."
"It's a jig-saw puzzle I can't fit together," replied Deirdre. "It's allin odd pieces. Why was that lady crying? And what have she and the manin the brown jersey got to do with Ronnie?"