Schoolgirl Jen at the Abbey

by Elsie J. Oxenham

  CHAPTER XX

  DISAPPOINTMENT

  Two days later, Joan was called to the telephone.

  Jen and Janice, listening from the hall, heard her give a sharp cry of surprise. “Joy! Joy, where are you?” And then they heard no more.

  “In Bournemouth, Joan. Isn’t it fun?” Joy spoke at express speed. “I never did a long-distance call before, but it’s quite easy. You can hear me, can’t you? Then listen hard! I’ve only a minute or two. We’ve had your letters, and we’re thrilled. You must find out what that cross on the map means! I wanted to come racing home to help in the search, but I decided this would do instead. Joan, try King’s Bottom Farm. Go up on the hills—on Long Bottom Hill—and look down on the fields. I believe you’ll find what you want. You’ll see your map lying below you, if I’m not mistaken. A stream and a footpath meeting, and a footbridge; and there used to be an old haystack on the path—it may be your shaded thing that looks like a building. The field’s called the Long Meadow. Good luck to you! I hope you’ll find a post or a stone or something to mark the spot. You can’t dig over the whole field! I hope the find will be worth having. Ring up and tell me what happens. Here’s our number. Better put it down. Now I’ll have to ring off. Is Jenny-Wren all right again? Aunty? Oh, she’s splendid! We went to Christchurch Priory to-day, and she loved it. Yes, I’m very fit. Tell me if you have any luck. Good-bye!”

  Looking slightly dazed, Joan rejoined the others. “That was Joy, speaking from Bournemouth. I couldn’t believe it at first. I’ve never had a long-distance call before.”

  “It was just like Joy,” Janice remarked. “How are they?”

  “Splendid, both of them.”

  “Joan, did Joy ring up about your letter? Does she know where to find the place on our map?” Jen asked, breathless with eagerness.

  “She thinks so. I’ll try to remember what she said, but I was so taken aback that I may have missed something. We’re to go up on Long Bottom Hill and look down on Vinny’s farm, and Joy thinks we’ll see our map spread out below us. There’s a field called the Long Meadow. It has a footpath, which has an old haystack beside it, and a stream which meets the path, and a small bridge. We couldn’t ask for more than that!”

  “Not if the stream and the path meet in a long V. What luck!” Jen cried. “Joy is clever!”

  “She knows every path and every stream anywhere near us. She’s thrilled about this. We’re to ring up and tell her what happens. But I think I’ll write instead. I can’t quite believe I’d find Joy in Bournemouth!”

  “I’ll ring up for you. I’ve done it before,” Janice promised. “When can we go on this search-party?”

  “Can you walk as far as Long Bottom Hill, Jen? It’s where we went after we’d been to Vinny’s farm.”

  “Of course I can! I’m quite all right now,” Jen said indignantly.

  “Then let’s go this afternoon. We’ll take the map and compare it with what Joy thinks we shall see.”

  They lay together on the turf of Long Bottom Hill, and Jen held the map firmly because the wind was so strong. Three pairs of eyes, brown and blue and dark, swept over the fields, which lay stretched below like a carpet.

  “There!” Three shouts came together.

  “I see it!” Janice cried. “Well done, Joy! And there is something between them—a small tree. Is that the spot, do you think?”

  “It is! It is!” Jen shouted. “A long V, made by the path and the stream! And the bridge—and the haystack’s still there! Oh, come on, Joan! Let’s go down! That tree must be where we’re meant to dig! It’s just where the cross is on the map!”

  Joan flung an arm over her to restrain her. “Wait, Jen! It looks like the place all right, and it’s just where one would expect Old Miles to bury something, on his own land. But if that tree marks the hiding-place, he didn’t know anything about it, so he couldn’t have put it on his map. That’s a small tree, and if I’m not mistaken it’s a willow, and they grow quickly. That tree hasn’t been there for very long.”

  “Perhaps it was planted instead of an older one that died,” Janice suggested.

  “It must have been! Perhaps the first tree fell down. Come and dig, Joan! Will they lend us spades at the farm?”

  “Jen, dear, do think!” Joan pleaded. “We have to ask leave to dig. We can’t rush at Mr. Jaikes’s field and begin hacking it to pieces! And I don’t really believe——”

  “Then let’s go and ask him! I’ll go, if you like. I said I’d ask! But he’d be much more likely to listen to you.”

  “What don’t you believe, Joan?” Janice asked. “For I don’t believe it either.”

  “That Mr. Jaikes will let us dig, however hard we ask.”

  Janice nodded. “That’s how I feel. He won’t believe us.”

  “But we’ll show him the map,” Jen urged. “He’ll have to believe it then.”

  “Jenny-Wren, this is going to be a blow, but I must say it,” Joan began. “Suppose Mr. Jaikes lets us dig—very unlikely, considering what we know of him, but suppose he does—and suppose we find anything worth while, to whom will it belong?”

  Jen stared, her eyes wide with dismay. “You don’t mean that old Jaikes would bag it for himself? Oh, Joan, no! We’d have found it. Wouldn’t it be ours?”

  “Mr. Jaikes wouldn’t think so. He’d claim anything dug up on his land.”

  “And buried by his ancestor,” Janice added. “Well, not his ancestor! He bought the farm from the Miles people, didn’t he? But buried by his predecessor on the land. We wouldn’t stand a chance. Joan’s right, Jen.”

  “But it’s not fair!” Jen raged. “He doesn’t know anything about the treasure! If we don’t tell him, he can’t possibly find it! At least he ought to go shares with us!”

  “A generous farmer might give us a share,” Joan agreed. “But not Mr. Jaikes; he’s the very opposite of generous. Grabbing all he can get and then trying to get more—that’s his character in the village.”

  “Grasping,” Janice remarked. “There’s not a hope, I’m afraid.”

  “Then we won’t tell him,” Jen said bitterly. “If we can’t have it, he mustn’t. Joan, couldn’t we go at dead of night and dig round that little tree? It’s ghastly to see the very spot and not be able to do anything about it!”

  Joan shook her head. “I’m not going to dig in an unfriendly farmer’s land at dead of night!”

  “But don’t you want to know what Old Miles buried?”

  “Yes, very badly. I’m going to talk to Mr. Jaikes. If he decides to try to prove our story, he may tell us what he finds.”

  “If anything,” Janice put in.

  “If anything. He won’t give us a share, but he may let us see the booty, if there is any. It would be better than nothing. You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

  Jen sighed heavily. “Oh, yes! I want to know. But it’s so unfair! It’s our treasure. Why should he keep it?”

  “I don’t believe it’s anything valuable.” Joan tried to console her. “Old Miles told little Jane it would bring her luck. He didn’t say it would make her rich. It may have been some old charm or talisman. I don’t think it was money.”

  “Mr. Jaikes may not want anything of that sort. He might let you buy it,” Janice suggested.

  “When will you go?” Jen asked gloomily. “We may as well know the worst. It’s jolly hard lines, when we’ve found the place and nobody but us knows anything about it! Joy will be wild, I bet!”

  “If you’ll go home with Jandy, I’ll go down to the farm and interview Mr. Jaikes and come home by the village. Lend me the map; I may need it to convince him. See that she has her tea, Jandy Mac! She’s not too fit yet.”

  “Can’t we come with you? We might be able to help,” Jen begged.

  “I’d rather talk to him alone. Honestly, Jen, it will be better. I’ll come and tell you as quickly as I can.”

  Very crestfallen, Jen handed her the map and turned back the way they had come.

&
nbsp; A look passed between Joan and Janice. Janice nodded a silent promise to take care of the invalid, and Joan took the track that led down to King’s Bottom Farm in its hollow.

  She arrived back at the Hall an hour and a half later, and shouted for tea. “I’m nearly dead with thirst! Not a hope, Jenny-Wren. Better forget all about it.”

  “He won’t even tell us, the brute?” Jen asked hopelessly.

  “He doesn’t believe there’s anything hidden. I showed him the map, and he studied it for a long while. I think he wanted to keep it, but I wouldn’t allow that——”

  “I should think not! The map’s ours, anyway!”

  “I hope you brought it back safely?” Janice exclaimed. “For Joy will want to see the original.”

  “I told him that. I didn’t say there was a copy. I said Joy might be able to think of some other place that would do as well, and that I must have the map for her.”

  “It’s not at all likely there are two places, just the same,” Janice said. “But I’m glad you didn’t give him the map.”

  “He didn’t dare to try to keep it, but he stared at it for a long time, as if he were learning it by heart.”

  “He was!” Jen said wrathfully. “He’ll go and dig at dead of night and not tell us anything about it!”

  “I’m afraid he will, but we can’t stop him. I’m sorry, but unless you or Joy can think of some other place that fulfils the conditions on the map, we can’t do any more. We’ll ask Joy; there are other streams and footpaths. But I haven’t much hope.”

  “I haven’t any hope,” Jen said gloomily. “We’ve found the place, and that Jaikes pig will dig up our treasure, and we shall never know.”

  “Here’s your tea, Joan,” Janice said. “Did you see anything of Lavinia?”

  “Not a thing. Mr. Jaikes was in the field, and I went to him there. I didn’t go to the house. I hope Vinny was being good and helping Mrs. Jaikes.”

  “Vinny will be mad, but she won’t feel as bad as we do,” Jen said heavily.

  “Joy will be upset too. Shall I ring her for you, Joan?”

  “No, Jandy Mac, I’ll write. Thanks very much, but if we speak to Joy she’ll want to argue; she’ll be sure she could have thought of something else to do. She’ll have the letter quite soon. She wouldn’t expect us to rush off the moment she rang up, to explore the fields!”

  “I think she would. It’s what she’d have done herself,” Jen groaned. “Joy never waits for anything. She’ll ring up again to ask if we’ve found the treasure.”

  There was no ring from Joy, however, and the next letter told of a concert to which she and Mrs. Shirley were going that evening. Joy was full of excitement over the map and begged for details at the earliest possible moment.

  “She won’t like them when she gets them!” Jen said darkly.

  She was very silent, and Joan and Janice looked at her anxiously more than once. Jen saw it and said defiantly, “You needn’t keep watching me. I’m not going to burst into tears! I feel just sick about things, but I’m not going to howl over them. And I promise you faithfully I won’t go and dig up old Jaikes’s fields in the middle of the night, unless Joan comes too.”

  “Joan won’t,” Joan assured her. “Go to bed and forget our troubles, Jenny-Wren.”

  “I can’t forget, but I’ll go to bed.” And Jen went sadly upstairs.

  “She’ll feel better in the morning. She’s worn out, poor infant,” Janice said.

  “I hope she’ll sleep. It has been a heavy blow. I’ll go and see if she’s all right presently,” Joan promised.

  CHAPTER XXI

  A FEAST OF REJOICING

  Joan sat up in bed, startled by a sudden sound. She looked at her watch. Two o’clock in the morning.

  “Someone’s moving about. I heard a door open. And—there!” at a bumping noise. “I must see what’s going on. Perhaps Jen is walking in her sleep—though I’ve never known her do it. But she was terribly over-excited last night. She may be ill again.” She was hurriedly groping for slippers and dressing-gown.

  Torch in hand, she crept from her room and leaned over the gallery railing. “Who is there?”

  Her light caught a small figure squatting on a rug. “Oh, Joan!” Jen hissed. “Why did you wake? I was being so quiet, and then that pig of a Curate ran at me and got between my legs. If I’d been on the stairs I’d have fallen headlong. Why do you let him roam about loose at night?”

  “Because he likes it. What are you doing there? Is anything the matter?” Joan switched on the light and ran down the steps and stood over her. “Let me look at you! Are you ill?”

  Jen faced her with excited, laughing eyes. “Did you think I was delirious? I’m all right, but I was hungry, and I thought a biscuit would help. Joy wouldn’t like to think of a visitor lying sleepless and starving in her house, Joan!”

  Joan stifled a laugh at the reproachful tone. “Jen, what do you mean? Haven’t you been to sleep? It’s two o’clock!”

  “I think I have. How do you know when you’ve been to sleep? It seems only a few minutes since I was lying thinking about Vinny and Boniface, and Jane and our map, and that pig Mr. Jaikes, and then suddenly I was wide awake. Oh, Joan, I’ve had the most marvellous idea! I think I must have dreamt it. I was coming to tell you; I couldn’t possibly wait hours till the morning! Then I thought if I woke you, you might be hungry, and I knew I was. So I was going to bring biscuits for you too.”

  “Very kind of you! But I’m going back to bed, and so are you. Fetch your biscuits, but don’t bother about me. I’m going to see you and the biscuits safely into your room, and this time you’ll please stay there. Then I’m going to sleep again, and I hope you’ll do the same.”

  Jen peered up at her. “Are you cross? I’ve never seen you cross yet; I didn’t think you could be. Are you wild with me, Joan?”

  “I shall be, if you aren’t back in bed, plus biscuits, in two minutes.”

  “Oh, no, you won’t!” Jen said confidently. “I’m coming into your room to tell you my idea. If you won’t listen, I shall go to Jandy Mac. I must tell somebody. I’m far too thrilled to keep it in for five hours.”

  Joan looked down at her and saw the excitement in her shining eyes and burning face. “Jen, this is absurd! What have you done to yourself? You’re all flushed and hot. Are you going to be ill again?”

  Jen gave a trill of healthy laughter. “No, Joan, dear, I’m not. I’m quite all right. But there’s something I’ve got to tell you. I can’t possibly settle down till I’ve heard what you say about it. Joan, do you remember thinking I was off my head, when I only wanted to tell you I’d found Ambrose’s grave?”

  “I remember. You gave me a real fright that night.”

  “Well, this is just the same. It really is important; perhaps not as important as Ambrose—we can’t tell yet. But it’s real, Joan! It’s not a dream, or a nightmare, and I’m not a scrap feverish. There really is something! May I fetch the biscuits and then come to your room and tell you all about it?”

  Joan looked at her helplessly. “Can’t you wait till the morning?”

  “No, Joan, darling, I really can’t. I should go right off my head if I had to wait, and I couldn’t sleep a wink. It’s a long time till seven o’clock! Let me tell you, Joan, dear!”

  “Very well. But you must do it quickly. I wanted you to have a good night’s rest.”

  “This is better for me than two good nights’ rest!” Jen proclaimed in triumph. “You go back to bed and I’ll bring the biscuits.”

  “Joan Shirley, what are you doing down there?” Janice leaned on the gallery rail and stared at them. “A midnight conference?”

  “Stars! We’ve wakened Jandy Mac! More biscuits needed!” Jen chuckled. “It’s all right, Jandy, I’m the villain of the night. Joan’s trying to send me back to bed, but I’m not going—not yet. She’ll tell you! It’s the Curate’s fault; he tripped me up.” She carefully avoided the slim black cat, who had recovered from his fright
and was coming to investigate, and ran off to the larder.

  “Curate! Come with me, or you’ll trip her up again!” Joan tucked him under one arm and held up her long gown in the other hand, as she went upstairs.

  Janice eyed her severely. “Such a way to go on, because your mother is in Bournemouth! If you were Joy, I shouldn’t be in the least surprised, but for Joan——! Did you tell me you were going to be grown up at Christmas?”

  Joan laughed and carried the cat into her room. “There! You’ve been enough bother for one night. Sit down and tramp on the bed, and presently you shall have some biscuit, if Jen brings the sort you like. Jandy, dear, I’m awfully sorry you’ve been disturbed. I apologise, but it wasn’t my fault. I heard a sound and went to see, and I found Jen sitting at the foot of the stair, having fallen over the Curate. She said she was hungry and wanted a biscuit. I tried to send her back to bed, but she’s in a terribly excited state about some idea that has just occurred to her, and she’s sure she can’t sleep till she’s told us. She even said that if I wouldn’t listen she would go and tell you. I felt it would be better to let her get it off her mind. Nothing else will satisfy her.”

  “Has she been having bad dreams?”

  “She says no, and that it’s really important. You know, the last time she scared me like this it quite truly was a big thing; she wanted to tell me she had found Ambrose’s grave down in the tunnels. She reminded me of that, and said this was important too.”

  “What can she have got hold of this time?”

  “I haven’t the slightest idea, but she’s thrilled to the limit. I’m certain she won’t sleep till she has told us.”

  “Then I’m going to hear what it is, too, and biscuits will certainly be a good idea.” Janice stifled a yawn. “I suppose I may perch on your bed beside the Curate? You wouldn’t ask me to sit in a chair at this time of night? What time is it, by the way? I didn’t stop to look. I came rushing out to see if you’d caught a burglar.”