CHAPTER XII
LOST
The three young ladies came in together, Miss Baby looking veryimportant, but calling out for her tea.
'It's quite ready, my dear,' I said. 'But where's Master Francis?'
'_I_ don't know,' said Miss Bess. 'I haven't seen him all theafternoon.'
I turned to Miss Lally.
'He went up to sit with you, my dear, in the attic,' I said.
'I didn't see him,' said Miss Lally, and then she explained how MissBess had fetched her down ever so long ago. 'I daresay Francie's in hisown room,' she went on. 'I'll run up and see, and I'll look in the attictoo, for I left my work lying about.'
She ran off.
'Nurse,' said Miss Bess, 'do you think Francis got a very bad scolding?You saw him, didn't you? Did he seem very unhappy?'
'I'm afraid so, my dear, but I think it will come all right again. I'veseen your mamma since, and she quite sees now that he didn't really meanto be disobedient.'
'I wish you had told mamma that before they spoke to Francis,' said MissBess, who I must say was rather a Job's comforter sometimes.
We waited anxiously till we heard Miss Lally's footsteps returning. Sheran in alone, looking rather troubled.
'He's not there, not in his own room, or the attic, or nowhere, but hemust have been in the attic, for my work's gone.'
A great fear came over me. Could the poor boy have run away in hismisery at having again angered his uncle and aunt? for the look on hisface had been strange, when he glanced in at the nursery door, askingfor Miss Lally. Was he meaning perhaps to bid her good-bye beforesetting off in some wild way? And what she said of the knitting havinggone made me still more uneasy. Had he perhaps taken it with him as aremembrance? for of all the queer mixtures of old-fashionedness andchildishness that ever I came across, Master Francis was the strangest,though, as I have said, there was a good deal of this in all thechildren.
I got up at Miss Lally's words. Master Bevil was asleep, luckily.
'You go on with your tea, my dears, there's good children,' I said. 'Imust see about Master Francis, he must be somewhere about the house.He'd never have thought of going out again in such weather,' for it waspouring in torrents.
I went downstairs, asking everybody I met if they had seen him, but theyall shook their heads, and at last, after searching through the libraryand the big drawing-rooms, and even more unlikely places, I got sofrightened that I made bold to knock at Sir Hulbert's study door, wherehe was busy writing, my lady working beside him.
They had been talking of Master Francis just before I went in, and theywere far more distressed than annoyed at my news, my lady growing quitepale.
'O Hulbert!' she exclaimed, 'if he has run away it is my fault.'
'Nonsense, Helen,' he said, meaning to cheer her. 'The boy has got senseand good feeling, he'd never risk making himself ill again. And wherewould he run away to? He couldn't go to sea. But certainly the soonerwe find him the better.'
He went off to speak to some of the men, while my lady and I, Mrs. Brentand some of the others, started again to search through the house. Wedid search, looking in really impossible corners, where he couldn't havesqueezed himself in. Then the baby awoke, and I had to go to him, andMiss Bess and Miss Lally took their turn at this melancholy game ofhide-and-seek, but it was all no use. The dull gray afternoon darkenedinto night, the rain still pouring down, and nothing was heard of themissing boy. Sir Hulbert at last left off pretending not to be anxious.He had his strongest horse put into the dog-cart, and drove away to thetown to give notice to the police, stopping on the way at every placewhere it was the least likely the boy could have been seen.
He didn't get back till eleven o'clock. My lady and Mrs. Brent and mewere waiting up for him, for Master Bevil was sleeping sweetly, and Ihad put the nursery-maid to watch beside him. The young ladies, poordears, were in bed too, and, as is happily the way with children, hadfallen asleep in spite of their tears and sad distress.
We knew the moment we saw Sir Hulbert that he had no good tidings togive us. His sunburnt face looked almost white, as he came into the hallsoaking wet and shook his head.
'I have done everything, Nelly,' he said, 'everything that can be done,and now we must try to be patient till some news comes. It isimpossible, everybody says, that a boy like him, so well known in theneighbourhood too, could disappear without some one seeing him, or thathe could remain in hiding for long. It is perfectly extraordinary thatwe have not found him already, and somehow I can scarcely believe he isdoing it on purpose. He has such good feeling, and must know how anxiouswe should be.'
Sir Hulbert was standing by the fire, which my lady had had lighted inthe hall, as he spoke. He seemed almost thinking aloud. My lady crept upto him with a look on her face I could not bear to see.
'Hulbert,' she said in a low voice, 'I said things to him enough to makehim doubt our caring at all.' And then she broke down into bitter thoughsilent weeping.
We got her to bed with difficulty. There was really no use whatever insitting up, and who knew what need for strength the next day mightbring? Then there were the other poor children to think of. So bymidnight the house was all quiet as usual. I was thankful that the windhad fallen, for all through the evening there had been sounds of wailingand sobbing, such as stormy weather always brings at Treluan, enough tomake you miserable if there was nothing the matter--the rain patteringagainst the window like cold tiny hands, tapping and praying to be letin.
Sad as I was, and though I could scarcely have believed it of myself, Ihad scarcely laid my head down before I too, like the children, fellfast asleep. I was dreaming, a strange confused dream, which I never wasable to remember clearly; but it was something about searching in thesmugglers' caves for Master Francis, followed by an old man, who Isomehow fancied was the miser baronet, Sir David. His hair was snowwhite, and there was a confusion in my mind of thinking it like MissLally's wool. Anyhow, I had got the idea of whiteness in my head, sothat, when something woke me--afterwards I knew it was the sound of myown name--and I opened my eyes to see by the glimmer of the night-lightwhat seemed at first a shining figure by my bed-side, I did not feelsurprised. And the first words I said were 'white as wool.'
'No, no,' said Miss Lally, for it was she, in her little night-dress,her fair hair all tumbling over her shoulders, 'it isn't about my wool,nurse, please wake up quite. It's something so strange--such a queernoise. Please get up and come to my room to see what it is.'
Miss Lally's room was a tiny place at the side of the nursery nearestthe tower, though not opening on to the tower stair.
I got up at once and crossed the day nursery with her, lighting a candleon the way. But when we got into her room all was perfectly silent.
'What was it you heard, my dear?' I asked.
'A sort of knocking,' she said, 'and a queer kind of little cry, like arabbit caught in a trap when you hear it a long way off.'
'It must have been the wind and rain again,' I was beginning to say, butshe stopped me.
'Hush, listen!' she said, holding up her little hand, 'there it isagain.'
It was just as she had said, and it seemed to come from the direction ofthe tower.
'Isn't it like as if it was from Francie's room?' said Miss Lally,shivering a little; 'and yet we know he's not there, nursie.'
But something was there, or close by, and something _living_, I seemedto feel.
'Put on your dressing-gown,' I said to the little girl, 'and yourslippers, and we'll go up and see. You're not frightened, dear?'
'Oh no!' she said. 'If only it was Francie!'
But she clung to my hand as we went up the stair, leaving the nurserydoor wide open, so as to hear Master Bevil if he woke up.
Master Francis's room was all dark, of course, and it struck very chillas we went in, the candle flickering as we pushed the door open. Itseemed so strange to see the empty bed, and everything unused about theroom, just as if he was really quite away. We stood perfectly still.
Allwas silent. We were just about leaving the room to go to the attic whenthe faintest breath of a sound seemed to come again, I couldn't tellfrom where. It was more like a sigh in the air.
'Stop,' said Miss Lally, squeezing my hand, and then again we heard themuffled taps, much more clearly than downstairs. Miss Lally's ears werevery sharp.
'I hear talking,' she whispered, and before I knew what she was aboutshe had laid herself down on the floor and put her ear to the ground, ata part where there was no carpet. 'Nursie,' she went on, looking up witha very white face and shining eyes, 'it is Francie. He must have felledthrough the floor. I can hear him saying, "O Lally! O Bess! Oh, somebodycome."'
I stooped down as she had done. It was silent again; but after a momentbegan the knocking and a sort of sobbing cry; my ears weren't sharpenough to make it into words, but I seized the first thing that came tohand, I think it was the candlestick, and thumped it on the floor ashard as ever I could, calling out, close down through the boarding,'Master Francie, we hear you.'
But there was nothing we could do by ourselves, and we were losingprecious time.
'Miss Lally,' I said, 'you won't be frightened to stay here alone; I'llleave you the candle. Go on knocking and calling to him, to keep up hisheart, in case he can hear, while I go for your papa.'
In less time than it takes to tell it, I had roused Sir Hulbert andbrought him back with me, my lady following after. Nothing would havekept her behind. We were met by eager words from Miss Lally.
'Papa, nursie,' she cried, 'I've made him hear, and I can make out thathe says something about the window.'
Without speaking Sir Hulbert strode across the room and flung it open.Oh, how thankful we were that the wind had fallen and all was still.
'Francis, my boy,' we heard Sir Hulbert shout--he was leaning out as faras ever he could--'Francis, my boy, can you hear me?'
Something answered, but we inside the room couldn't distinguish what itsaid, but in another moment Sir Hulbert turned towards us.
'He says something about the cupboard in the attic,' he said. 'What canhe mean? But come at once.'
He caught up my lady's little hand-lamp and led the way, we threefollowing. When we reached the attic he went straight to the bigcupboard I have spoken of. The doors were standing wide open. SirHulbert went in, but came out again, looking rather blank.
'I can see nothing,' he said. 'I fancied he said the word "mouse," buthis voice had got so faint.'
'If you knock on the floor,' I began, but Miss Lally stopped me bydarting into the closet.
'Papa,' she said, 'hold the light here. I know where the mouse-hole is.'
What they had thought a mouse-hole was really a hole with jagged edgescut out in one of the boards, which you could thrust your hand into. SirHulbert did so, beginning to see what it was meant for, and pulled. Atrap-door, cleverly made, for all that it looked so roughly done, gaveway, and by the light of the lamp we saw a kind of ladder leadingdownwards into the dark. Sir Hulbert stooped down and leaned over theedge.
'Francis,' he called, and a very faint voice--we couldn't have heard ittill the door was opened--answered--
'Yes, I'm here. Take care, the ladder's broken.'
Luckily there was another ladder in the attic. Sir Hulbert and I draggedit out, and managed to slip it down the hole, in the same direction asthe other. We were so afraid it would be too short, but it wasn't. Mylady and I held it steady at the top, while Sir Hulbert went down withthe lamp, Miss Lally holding a candle beside us.
Sir Hulbert went down very slowly, not knowing how or in what stateMaster Francis might be lying at the foot. Our hearts were beating likehammers, for all we were so quiet.
First we heard an exclamation of surprise. I rather think it was 'byJove!' though Sir Hulbert was a most particular gentleman in his way ofspeaking--then came a hearty shout--
'All right, he's here, no bones broken.'
'Shall I come down?' cried my lady.
'I think you may,' Sir Hulbert answered, 'if you're very careful. I'llbring the light to the foot of the ladder again.'
When my lady got down, Miss Lally and I strained our ears to hear. Iknew the child was quivering to go down herself, and it was like her tobe so patient.
Strange were the words that first reached us.
'Auntie, auntie!' we heard Master Francis say, in his poor weak voice.'It's old Sir David's treasure! You won't be poor any more. Oh! I'm soglad now I fell down the hole, but I thought I'd die before I could tellany one.'
Miss Lally and I stared at each other. Could it be true? or was MasterFrancis off his head? We had not long to wait.
They managed to get him up--after all it was not so very far toclimb,--my lady coming first with the lamp, and Sir Hulbert, holdingMaster Francis with one arm and the side of the ladder with the other,followed, for the boy had revived wonderfully, once he knew he was safe.
Sir Hulbert, holding Master Francis with one arm and theside of the ladder with the other, followed.]
My lady was crying, I saw it the moment the light fell on her face, andas soon as Master Francis was up beside us, she threw her arms round himand kissed him as never before.
'Oh! my poor dear boy,' she said, 'I am so thankful, but do tell us howit all happened.'
She must have heard, and indeed seen something of the strange discoverythat had been made, but for the moment I don't think there was a thoughtin her heart except thankfulness that he was safe.
Before Master Francis could answer, Sir Hulbert interrupted.
'Better not ask him anything for a minute or two,' he said. 'Nurse, youwill find my brandy-flask downstairs in the study. He'd better have alittle mixed with water; and ring the bell as you pass to waken Crooks,and some one must light the fire in Francis's room.'
I was back in five minutes with what was wanted; and then I found MissLally having her turn at petting her cousin. As soon as he had had alittle brandy and water we took him down to the nursery, where the firewas still smouldering, Sir Hulbert carefully closing the trap-door as ithad been before, and then following us downstairs.
Once in the nursery, anxious though we were to get him to bed, it wasimpossible not to let him tell something of what had happened. It beganby a cry from Miss Lally.
'Why, Francie, you've got my knitting sticking out of your pocket. Buttwo of the needles have dropped out,' she went on rather dolefully.
'They'll be lying down in that room,' said Master Francis. 'I wascarrying it in my hand when I went down the ladder after the ball ofwool, and when I fell I dropped it, and I found it afterwards. It wasthe ball of wool that did it all,' and then he went on to explain.
He had not found Miss Lally in the attic, for Miss Bess had alreadycalled her down, but seeing her knitting lying on the floor, he had satdown to wait for her, thinking she'd be sure to come back. Then henoticed that the ball of wool must have rolled away as she threw herwork down, and disappeared into the cupboard. The door was wide open,and he traced it by the thread in his hand to the 'mouse-hole' in thecorner, down which it had dropped, and putting his hand through to seeif he could feel it, to his surprise the board yielded. Pulling a littlemore, the trap-door opened, and he saw the steps leading downwards.
It was not dark in the secret room in the day-time, for it had twonarrow slits of windows hardly to be noticed from the outside, so, witha boy's natural curiosity, he determined to go down. He hadn't strengthto lift the trap-door fully back, but he managed to stick it open enoughto let him pass through; he had not got down many steps, however, beforehe heard it bang to above him. The shock may have jarred the ladder,which was a roughly-made rotten old thing. Anyway, the next momentMaster Francis felt it give way, and he fell several feet on to thefloor below. He was bruised, and a little stunned for a few minutes, buthe soon came quite to himself, and, still full of curiosity, began tolook about him. The place where he was was only a sort of entrance to alarger room, which was really under his own bedroom, and lighted, as Ihave said, by narrow deep window
s, without glass. And though there wasno door between the two, the large room was on a much lower level, andanother ladder led down to it. This time he was very careful, and got tothe bottom without any accident.
Looking about him, he saw standing along one side of the room acollection of the queerest-shaped objects of all sizes that could beimagined, all wrapped up in some kind of linen or canvas, grown graywith age and dust.
Nurse Heatherdale's Story Page 12
