Strangers at the Abbey

by Elsie J. Oxenham

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  A LIGHT IN THE ABBEY

  “The boy-friend’s very attentive,” Joy said, mockery in her tone, as she handed a letter to Rykie three days later.

  Rykie snatched it from her. “You love to tease, but you’re wrong. He’s not—oh, you know nothing about it!” And she ran up to her room.

  “Boy-friend lives in London,” Joy remarked. “She’s frightfully worked up about him, whatever she says.”

  “She doesn’t say much. I wish she’d tell us a little more,” Joan groaned.

  Rykie offered no explanation when she came down to tea. She was flushed and seemed excited, but her talk was all of school and she went off to do her prep, without referring again to her letter.

  “Did she work, Jen?” Joan asked at bedtime.

  “I think so. Yes, I’m sure she did. She doesn’t want three returned lessons again! Nesta and Beetle sat on her heavily last time; she was mad, but she knows she can’t go on messing up rehearsals.”

  Joan agreed. “She’ll pay more attention to the others in the play than to anything I could say. I’m glad she’s learnt a lesson.”

  Rykie’s evening was not all given to work, however. During her preparation time she managed to scribble a letter, and she posted it on the way to school next morning. Much intrigued by this mystery, Jen nevertheless managed to restrain herself and to make no comment.

  “I’d give pounds to know what it’s all about!” she confessed to Joan.

  “I’d like to know more about this friend and what Rykie is up to,” Joan admitted.

  “A millionaire, and she’s coaxing him to finance her career or to send her to Hollywood,” Joy suggested.

  Joan looked troubled. “I wouldn’t like to think she was trying to borrow money.”

  “Oh, don’t worry! Who would lend money to a kid of fourteen?”

  “Nobody, if they knew what she was like,” Jen said. “But the mysterious unknown may not understand.”

  “I’d soon enlighten him, if I knew how to find him,” Joy vowed.

  “Rykie will take good care that you don’t,” Jen rejoined. “I believe she sleeps on his letters and wears them next her heart.”

  “There’s no secret about this letter, anyway.” Joy waved an air-mail form before Rykie next day. “More news from Belle! Tell us her adventures!”

  Rykie dropped into a chair to slit open and read the letter.

  “No dashing upstairs with Belle’s news!” Joy grinned. “We’ll hear all about it in two secs.”

  “There is news. Look at her face!” Joan murmured. “She’s positively radiant!”

  Rykie’s eyes were ablaze with excitement. But she thrust the letter into her pocket, after a first hurried reading, and went towards the staircase.

  “Good news?” Joy asked casually.

  “Marvellous!” Rykie looked at the assembled family from the stair. “But Belle says I’m not to tell anybody yet. Sorry! It’s a complete and absolute thrill. But I can’t say anything till she gives me leave. She’ll write again soon. Will you give me another air-mail to write back to her, Joy?”

  “Not unless you tell us a little more,” Joy teased.

  “Then I’ll get one in town to-morrow,” Rykie retorted, and ran upstairs.

  “I’ll give you one, Rykie,” Joan called after her.

  “Thanks!” Rykie leaned over the gallery railing. “You’re a—a jewel, and Joy’s a pig!”

  For some unexplained reason a wave of colour swept into her face. She rushed to her room and closed the door.

  “Joy, you should not tease her,” Mrs. Shirley remonstrated.

  “How very temperamental!” Joy shrugged her shoulders. “She’s made up of moods and secrets! It’s rude, to say the least of it.”

  “She can’t help it this time. It’s Belle’s fault,” Joan said.

  “I expect Belle’s getting engaged to a millionaire.” Jen swung her attaché-case thoughtfully. “If it isn’t quite fixed, of course she doesn’t want it talked about.”

  “Or else she’s on the point of pulling off some simply marvellous contract,” Joy added.

  Rykie did not satisfy their curiosity. She came down to tea, looking thrilled and joyful, but would give no explanation.

  Joan handed her a letter form, and Jen was moved to protest. “You ought to pay for that! They’re sixpence each; it’s not like ordinary stamps! Joan will have to buy another. It’s mean!”

  “I notice the meanness didn’t worry you when I was the victim,” Joy observed.

  “You don’t matter; Joan does! And anyway, you can afford it better than she can.”

  “Jen, don’t be an ass!” Joan said, laughing. “I can afford to give Rykie an occasional air-mail.”

  “Yes, but it’s becoming a habit,” Joy commented. “I agree with the Wren. If Belle is going to need constant sixpences, Rykie must begin providing them for herself.”

  “There’s no need for that.” Joan closed the discussion by asking questions about school.

  “Your correspondence, young Rykie!” Joy handed Rykie a picture postcard of St. Paul’s next day.

  Rykie glanced at it and coloured.

  “Most mysterious!” Joy mocked.

  “It’s nothing to do with you!” Rykie flashed. “I know you’ve read it, but it didn’t tell you much.”

  “Nobody could help reading it,” Joy retorted. “We had to look at the address. It might have been for me.”

  The card bore the letters—“O.K.—A.”

  “Now who is ‘A’?” Joy pondered. “As you say, it doesn’t tell us much. Belle is ‘B,’ but who is ‘A’?”

  “Don’t you wish you knew?” and Rykie fled, to prepare for tea.

  Then, all in a moment and unexpectedly, the questions were answered.

  On Friday night Joan was roused from sleep by someone shaking her gently. She stared drowsily up at Jen.

  “Joan, get up! Put on some clothes, and a coat. There’s something happening!” Jen hissed.

  Joan sat up hurriedly. “Mother?”

  “No—oh, no! It’s Rykie; she’s gone out. I heard a sound and I looked out, and she was crossing the lawn, all dressed. She’s gone to the Abbey.”

  “The Abbey?” Joan gasped. She reached for her clothes and began to dress at express speed.

  “I’m going after her, to see what she’s up to. I thought you’d like to come too. Don’t wake Joy! We don’t want her. I’m going to put something on; I’ll be back in two minutes,” and Jen vanished.

  Wild thoughts whirled in Joan’s mind as she pulled on a warm skirt and jumper and twisted up her hair. She found strong shoes and a big coat, and took up her torch just as Jen, fully dressed, came to the door again.

  “The Abbey keys,” Joan whispered.

  “I bet she’s taken them,” Jen said, shivering with excitement as they stole noiselessly down the staircase. “But what on earth can she want in the Abbey at midnight? Oh, Joan, has she gone to meet ‘A’? Were those letters to arrange it?”

  “They may have been.” Joan’s lips were closed tightly. “She couldn’t! Oh, she couldn’t!” she said to herself. “Jen doesn’t know how she asked Joy about the jewels. But Rykie wouldn’t do that! The keys are gone,” she said.

  “Of course. She couldn’t get through the gate without them. I’m sure she’s gone to the Abbey. We’ll go after her, won’t we, Joan?”

  “We must. I must. I wish you’d go back to bed.”

  “Joan! You couldn’t be so mean! You wouldn’t know, but for me!” Jen cried in righteous wrath.

  “Don’t shriek like that! Joy might wake. Come on, then! But I wish I’d been the one to discover this.”

  “You couldn’t go alone! If Rykie really has gone to meet ‘A,’ they’d be two to one. They might attack you. I’m coming to stand by you.”

  “Why should they attack me?” Joan was talking quietly to keep her worst fears at bay.

  “Not Rykie, of course. But we don’t know w
ho or what ‘A’ is, except that we’re sure it’s a he.”

  Joan said nothing to this. They found the Abbey gate unlocked and crept through, looking about them cautiously.

  Everything seemed as usual. The wide refectory windows towered above; the scent of wallflowers was all about them.

  Suddenly Jen caught Joan’s arm. “A light! In the refectory! Look, Joan! Someone’s switched on a torch!”

  Joan’s heart was like lead. The jewels of Lady Jehane were spread out in the glass case on the refectory table.

  “Jen, I want you to go back to the house. Please, Jen!”

  “I couldn’t,” Jen said firmly. “Not even to please you, Joan dear. I’m going to see this through with you.”

  “Then come along,” and Joan, very apprehensive, led the way by the tresaunt to the garth and so to the refectory stair.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  RYKIE’S FAULT

  “You shan’t!” A sharp cry of protest rang out as Joan and Jen crept up the old steps. “Only one, one little one; oh, Angus, no!”

  Like a flash Joan was at the door, Jen at her heels.

  “I’ll bag the lot. We’ll all be in clover all our lives. They’re worth a fortune.” It was a man’s voice.

  “You shan’t!” Rykie cried again. “I’ll fetch somebody—oh, Joan, stop him!” she shrieked.

  A tall fair lad, lanky and thin, bent over the display case of jewels. He straightened, saw only two girls, and laughed and flung open the case.

  “Rykie, who is this?” Joan demanded.

  Before the eager boy could touch the jewels there was a yell and a wild fury launched herself upon him. He was stooping over the case; the sudden onslaught threw him off his balance and he fell. Jen was no lightweight, and though he struggled, she sat on him heavily. He grappled with her and would have flung her aside, but both Rykie and Joan were on him.

  Joan pinned down his arms firmly, while Rykie, shaking with sobs, held his feet and stopped his kicking.

  “You shouldn’t have tried to take them all,” she gasped.

  “You beast! You were going to steal Lady Jehane’s jewels!” Jen raged. “Shall I phone for the police, Joan?”

  “Not yet. We’ll see about that presently. It’s no use,” as the lad struggled again. “We’re three to one. You’d better be quiet. If you go on fighting, or if you hurt any of us, I shall lock you in and send for the police. You couldn’t get out of this place. If you keep quiet I’ll think it over.”

  The boy, or man, lay suddenly still, his eyes fixed on her watchfully.

  “We have the phone in the Abbey,” Joan said calmly. “It doesn’t mean going all the way to the house. If you want me to call the police, go on struggling; if you keep still till I understand, I’ll see if I can find any excuse for you. Rykie, you must have brought him here. Who is he?”

  Rykie quivered. “It’s Angus.”

  “Yes? And who is Angus?”

  A storm of sobbing shook Rykie. “My brother.”

  “Your brother?” Joan and Jen shouted together.

  “Didn’t know you had one,” Jen exclaimed.

  “We didn’t tell you. He was away—on a ship. We knew you wouldn’t do anything for him; you helped me because I was a girl. Then I had a letter saying he was back and on leave in London.”

  “Yes?” Joan said quietly. “But Mother didn’t know you had a brother, I’m sure.”

  “She isn’t his aunt; our mother wasn’t his mother. He’s older than Belle—three years older.”

  “Oh, I see; a half-brother. Then he’s no relation of mine,” Joan said grimly.

  “What a mercy!” Jen ejaculated. “He would be a jolly cousin for you, wouldn’t he?”

  “Tell us the rest of the story, Rykie.” Joan’s tone was merciless. “You asked him to come here, by night and in secret?”

  Rykie broke into passionate weeping. “I thought you could spare one little stone—just one; but you wouldn’t give me even one. I want to go to Belle so frightfully badly, and you won’t help.”

  Jen stared at her, blue eyes wide with horror. “You let him in and brought him here, so that he could steal Jehane’s jewels? You utter little pig!”

  “I didn’t want you to know,” Joan observed. “I did my best to send you back to the house. I wouldn’t have told you.”

  “Oh, but I had to be here! I knocked him down and sat on him!” Jen’s hands were firmly on Angus’s arms, as she helped Joan to hold him still. “You needed me; you know you did.”

  “And then, when he saw the jewels, he said—he said——” Rykie sobbed.

  “Said he’d bag the lot. And I bagged him instead,” Jen said with gusto.

  Rykie lifted tear-drenched eyes to Joan’s face. “I couldn’t let him take them all. I wouldn’t have helped you if he hadn’t said that. But he’d have taken the lot, and I couldn’t have stopped him. I never meant that. It was really stealing; I thought just one little one wouldn’t matter. You might never have missed it.”

  “Oh, yes, we should!” Jen said bitterly. “We know exactly how many stones there are of each colour. Just suppose we’d looked and found only five rubies instead of six! Did you really think Joan wouldn’t know?”

  “I suppose Angus was to take one stone and sell it in London and share the money with you?” Joan asked quietly.

  “That’s what I meant,” Rykie whispered. “But he wasn’t satisfied with one when he saw them.”

  “You were playing with fire,” Joan commented. “You might have guessed what would happen. And to take one was just as much stealing as to take them all.”

  “It didn’t seem like that. It didn’t seem really bad till—till he said he was going to take them all.” Rykie quivered again.

  Joan looked at her. It was evident that she had had a real shock and that the discovery of her brother’s intentions had frightened her badly.

  “Let him get up, Jen,” she said, and stepped aside. “Listen, you!” as Angus sat up gloomily, rubbing his bruised arms, for Jen’s grip had not been gentle. “Get out of this as quickly as you can, and see that you never come back. You can’t get in without the keys, and I shall see that they are kept out of reach.”

  Rykie looked up, her face scarlet. “I suppose you think I stole them?”

  “I’ll say you did!” Jen exploded. “You took them without leave; that’s stealing. Joan’s keys! Oh, how I loathe you!”

  “Hush, Jen!” Joan said quietly. “We’ll deal with Rykie later.”

  “But you aren’t going to let him go? He’s a burglar!”

  “Only attempted burglary, so far,” Joan reminded her.

  “He’ll go and do it somewhere else!”

  “Then someone else can prosecute him. Think, Jen! How could I hand him over to the police? It would upset Mother fearfully.”

  “He deserves to go to prison,” Jen protested. “So does she, for that matter. And he’s no relation to Aunty Shirley!”

  “There’s a family connection. Mother would be heartbroken. We couldn’t have a police-court case without bringing Rykie into it,” Joan said gravely. “We can’t do it, you know. And he hasn’t stolen anything.”

  “He tried jolly hard.” Jen looked dissatisfied. “I’m sure Joy wouldn’t want you to let him go.”

  “Mother would agree, and that’s what matters most.”

  “I wish I’d jumped on him much harder! I’m going to count those jewels!” and Jen sprang to the table and ran her eyes hastily over the stones in the case.

  Rykie watched her indignantly. “He never touched them. You can’t call in the police.”

  “Oh, yes, we could!” Joan assured her. “My evidence and Jen’s would be quite enough to get him into serious trouble. If we hear any more from him it will all come out, and we shall have to explain who opened the Abbey gate and let him in. Everyone knows there’s no way into the Abbey except through locked gates; this was obviously an inside job, with an accomplice in the house who had the keys. So you had bet
ter keep very quiet, or you’ll be in trouble too.”

  Rykie had grown white. These possibilities had had no place in her crude plans. “Well, then, let him go. He won’t come here again,” she said desperately.

  “He’d better not! If he does, I hope I’ll be here to jump on him some more!” Jen vowed.

  Joan looked at Angus. “You may be twenty-one, as Rykie says, but you look more like seventeen and you behave like eleven years old. I can quite well prosecute you for attempted burglary, if I have any more trouble with you. Go right away, now, at once, before I change my mind. Rykie, show him the way.”

  “He’d better go by the gate-house,” Jen said unhappily. “We don’t want him wandering round the garden all night. I suppose he came in by the garden.”

  “Yes, that will be better. I’ll unlock the Abbey gate. Lead the way, Rykie!”

  “Don’t leave them to follow us. They’d grab those jewels,” Jen hinted.

  Joan looked at Rykie. “Go on!”

  “Oh, come away out of this! I wish I hadn’t brought you here!” Rykie exclaimed, and led the way down the steps to the garth.

  “That’s a good thing!” Jen muttered. “I’ll lock the door, Joan. You keep an eye on them.”

  In silence Angus was conducted to the gate by which tourists entered the Abbey. Joan unlocked it, and escorted by the three girls, he went through the gate-house to the lane.

  “The village is down that way,” Joan said briefly.

  “Where is he going to sleep?” Rykie demanded.

  “I haven’t the slightest idea; under a hedge, I dare say.”

  “We don’t care a scrap,” Jen informed her. “He isn’t going to sleep in the Abbey. That’s all we know.”

  “It’s a fine night. It won’t hurt him to spend it walking the roads.” Joan had no tenderness for Angus. “Off you go!” she said. “It’s no use hanging about here. Rykie’s going to bed.”

  Angus shrugged his shoulders and strode away.

  But at the gate he turned. “I’m sorry,” he jerked. “It was because there were such a lot. I never meant to take more than one, but when I saw so many I lost my head. I thought I could help the girls. Belle may not get on, and this kid ought to be with her. I knew those stones would see us all through.”