Joan laughed. “Well, if we find nothing, remember how much we have discovered—or rather, have been given. The book for Baby Kat, and the pictures and stories about dear old Ambrose and the Small Ones, and——”
“Minette and her baby and l’ecureuil.” Jen gloated over the new word. “And the story of Jane and her play-house. All right, Joan, I’ll remember. We haven’t done so badly! But, all the same, I hope there’s one thing more.”
“Greedy! Never satisfied!” Janice mocked.
Half an hour later they went through the Abbey on their way to the meadow, laden with trowels and spades, for Jen flatly declined to leave all the digging to Bob.
“You can do as you like, but I’m going to help. Perhaps I’ll be the one to find the treasure,” she said sturdily. “It was a big tree, and we may have to dig all round before we find the thing. It may take a long time.”
“I wonder if the roots have grown over the treasure?” Janice began. “It wasn’t such a big tree when it was buried.”
“It would be fairly big,” Joan argued. “The burying wasn’t under Ambrose’s thin little tree of three hundred years ago. It would have grown a good deal by the highwayman’s day.”
“Yes, that’s true. I was thinking of the small tree in the book of pictures.”
“It must have been a fairly hefty tree by Old Miles’s time,” Joan said.
“Here comes Boniface!” Jen groaned. “Don’t let him stop us, Joan, dear! He’ll want to talk! Oh, why did we let him live in the Abbey?”
Joan laughed under her breath. “So you’re beginning to realise he may sometimes be in the way, Jenny-Wren!—Boniface, we’re in a hurry. Don’t stop us just now,” she said firmly.
Astonished, he stood aside and watched them go out to the meadow, staring after them open-mouthed.
“He thinks we’re mad,” Janice said.
“We’ll tell him afterwards,” Jen cried. “We couldn’t possibly stop to gossip now. Oh, there’s Bob! Have you told him, Joan?”
“I only told him that we wanted him, and he must bring a spade.” Joan went forward to the lad. “Bob, we’ve found an old paper that makes us think somebody buried something under this tree a long while ago. We don’t know what it was or exactly where he put it, but we believe it was under this big tree. Will you help us to dig for it?”
Bob’s eyes were round. “Sure, Miss Joan! Will it be jools, like we found in the old church down there?”
“We don’t know what it will be, or how deep,” Joan confessed. “It might be jewels, or money, or something quite different.”
“We think it may have been a horse-shoe,” Jen put in.
“A horse-shoe!” Bob’s eyes were rounder than ever.
“All we know is that it was to bring somebody luck. That’s why we thought of a horse-shoe. It may be some sort of charm,” Joan explained. “Where will you start? We’ll dig too, but I don’t expect we’ll go as deep as you will.”
“We’ll start, and if we don’t find anything, Bob can come and dig our holes deeper still.” Jen was tremulous with excitement.
Joan glanced at her. “I’ve a good mind to send you home to bed. You’re all shaky with thrills.”
“She ought to be lying down in the dark, with ice on her head.”
“Stop talking about putting ice on my head!” Jen raged. “Go and put your own head under a cold tap, Jandy Mac! Why don’t we start?”
“Bob has started,” Joan pointed out. “Get to work, everybody! And try to keep cool, Jen, dear.”
“Cool! I’m thrilled to the limit,” Jen muttered.
“You are. That’s the trouble,” Janice told her.
“Well, at least I’m going to do something useful and not just talk!” And Jen attacked the ground at the side of the tree farthest from where Bob was digging stolidly.
Joan and Janice chose their spots, avoiding the roots of the big elm and working between them. There was silence, as everyone dug steadily.
For a long time there was no result. The girls paused to rest occasionally; Bob dug deeply, but found nothing.
“We’re making a fearful mess of the meadow,” Janice said.
“We’ll easily put that right. But I’m beginning to feel rather hopeless. It will be a blow if we find nothing, after all this work,” Joan admitted.
“I hope no tourists come this morning.” Jen leaned on her spade and surveyed the heaps of earth. “They’d think we were quite mad. The owner of the Abbey tearing her meadow to pieces!”
“They might offer to help,” Janice suggested.
“We don’t want them,” Jen said hurriedly. “We don’t want outsiders butting in. I say, doesn’t Bob dig beautifully? I wish I could do it like that!”
Bob grinned and worked on.
“I hope he’ll be the one to find it,” Jen added loudly. “He’s done all the really useful digging. We only scratch off the top layer. He’d be so pleased if he found something simply marvellous.”
“Or an old horse-shoe,” Janice laughed.
Bob’s grin deepened, but he did not speak.
“Come on! We’ll have another try!” And Jen made a fresh onslaught on the hard ground.
Suddenly Bob gave a cry. “Something here, Miss Joan!”
The girls flung down their spades and ran to him.
“Oh, Bob, what is it? What have you found? Show us!” Jen shouted.
“I ain’t dug her out yet, but spade struck something hard.” And Bob jumped down into his hole and began to scrape away the soil. “Gimme that trowel, little Miss Jen.”
“I bet it’s only a big stone,” Janice murmured.
Jen ran for the trowel which Joan had been using. She let “little Miss Jen” pass in the excitement of the moment, but stored it up for indignant comment later on.
“Here’s a box o’ some sort,” said Bob.
“A box! Then it is the treasure!” A look flashed among the girls.
Very carefully Bob drew out a small metal box, rusted and discoloured, but whole.
“Her ain’t broke.” And he handed it up to Joan. “Will it be that would bring luck, think ye?”
“What’s inside it, perhaps.” Joan’s hands shook a little as she took the box, while Jen and Janice pressed closely on her to see.
CHAPTER XXIV
BROWN BEADS
A square of tarpaulin, neatly folded, filled the small box, which Bob, at Joan’s command, broke open. Holding their breath, Jen and Janice watched her lift the cloth.
“Carefully wrapped up, after all,” Joan murmured.
“Oh, Joan! What’s in it, Joan?” Jen whispered.
Joan drew the folds of cloth aside. “Look, girls!”
“Beads!” Janice cried, astounded. “They don’t look valuable or lucky!”
“Only old brown wooden beads!” Jen wailed. “They’re not worth finding!”
“Don’t be in such a hurry,” Joan said quietly.
She lifted the beads and showed that they were strung together on a silver chain. “Now do you see?” she asked reverently.
“A necklace! But why would it bring luck to Jane?” Janice asked, bewildered.
“Brown beads!” Jen said slowly. “You said something about brown beads, not long ago. What was it, Joan?”
“Think!” Joan commanded, with a quick look at her, full of meaning. “What did I say about brown beads?”
“You’re holding them as if they were made of gold or diamonds,” Janice observed. “Why do they matter so much?”
“Joan! Oh, Joan, did they belong to Ambrose?” Jen cried. “Is it his—what did you call it—the thing we think the squirrel stole?”
“Ambrose’s rosary. Of course it is! It may not be gold or diamonds, Jandy Mac, but it’s a great treasure, all the same.”
“Ambrose used it when he said his prayers!” Jen’s voice was awed. “Oh, Joan, it is a treasure! What a lovely thing to find!”
“Ambrose used it every day, and many times a day. I expect he had it fo
r years.” Joan looked up at the staring Bob. “You know about old Ambrose, the monk who lived here, Bob? This is a prayer-chain—the one he used when he prayed.”
“Well, now, to think o’ that!” Bob appreciated their excitement over the discovery, even if to him it seemed exaggerated. “Him’s the old one what’s buried down in the tunnels, where the big chest is, Miss Joan?”
“Yes, Bob. He lived in the gate-house, and he used to sit under this tree that we’ve had to cut down. I expect he said his prayers there many a time.”
“He had a little striped cat called Minette, and a squirrel called l’ecureuil,” Jen said breathlessly. “Joan, do you really think l’ecureuil stole the rosary?”
“I expect the squirrel took it and poked it into some hole in the rubbish that lay about everywhere. Ambrose searched for it but never found it, and Katharine and Peregrine gave him a new one. It ought to have a crucifix hanging from it, but that must have been lost during its adventures. Perhaps the squirrel or the highwayman was rough!”
“And when Old Miles was trapped in the tunnels, two hundred years later, and had to fight his way out, he uncovered it,” Janice added. “He saw what it was and he clutched it, hoping it would help him to find his way through the mess he was in. He’d be sure to be superstitious, and we’ve always believed he had the fright of his life down there.”
“If he hadn’t been so terrified, he’d have gone back to look for his wallet, with the rings and pearls in it, which we found,” Jen added.
“He can’t have gone back—or if he did, he couldn’t find the wallet,” Joan said. “He made those maps, which Jandy brought to us last June, and he left them with his son, who carried on at the farm. They were handed down in the family, but no one knew what to make of them; then John Miles, the great-grandson, gave them to Joy’s and Jandy’s Uncle Tony, and Jandy inherited them and brought them to us. But the highwayman buried the rosary separately; I think perhaps he found his way out of the tunnel after—just after—he had picked it up, and he felt it had brought him luck. He buried it here, outside the gate-house, and he thought he gave his little girl a clue, so that she would find it. But she wasn’t clever enough to read it, so she kept it inside her diary, and no one knew it was there till Vinny Miles found it and showed it to us.”
“A squirrel—and a highwayman—and Lavinia! And now we have the rosary!” Janice said. “So that’s why he told Jane it would bring her luck! It’s better than a horse-shoe!”
“It’s the most lovely find we could have had! Let me hold it, Joan!” Jen pleaded.
She took the chain reverently and looked carefully at the beads. “They’re carved into patterns. Even if we didn’t know what it is, it’s jolly pretty. What will you do with it?”
“What do you think? You certainly ought to have some say in the matter. It’s owing to you we have the rosary, because Lavinia gave her book to you.”
“Didn’t Jen have Ambrose’s gold ring?” Janice asked.
Jen looked at her quickly. “I still feel I ought not to have it, but it is my very dearest treasure.”
“Would you like to have his rosary too? After Mother and Joy have seen it, of course,” Joan began.
Jen reddened. “No, Joan, dear. It’s terribly kind of you, but I wouldn’t dream of it. Ambrose’s beads must stay in the Abbey, with the books that tell us all about him, and about Jane and her father, and Katharine and Peregrine. The whole story’s there, for anyone who cares to put it together. The rosary must stay there too.”
“Good for you, Jen! I do agree!” Janice exclaimed.
“Yes, Jen is right,” Joan said. “The rosary shall lie in the refectory beside the books.”
“Perhaps it will bring luck to the Abbey! At any rate, it will bring me, for I shall want to come to see it often,” Jen declared.
“You’ll be very welcome.” Joan smiled at her. “We’re always glad to see you.”
“It didn’t bring luck to Jane; but then, she never found it,” Jen went on. “We’ve found it! Do you think perhaps——?”
“No, I don’t,” Joan said firmly. “I don’t believe in things that bring luck. But I’d say that the rosary has brought us something already, in the happy feeling we have because we’ve found it.”
“And because it helps to make old Ambrose even more real to us,” Janice added.
“Thank you for your help, Bob.” Joan looked at the tall lad. “The beads will mean something to you, anyway, for I shall give you a present because you’ve worked so hard for us.”
“Thank ye, Miss Joan. I’ll allus come when you wants me to dig. Shall I put this here muck back and make the place neat again?”
“Thank you very much; yes, please do! I don’t suppose we shall want anything more dug up,” Joan said with a laugh. “But we’ll certainly ask you, if we do.”
They went through the Abbey, seeing nothing of Ann or Boniface, Joan carrying the box with the rosary.
“We’ll keep this in the house till Mother and Joy have seen it,” she said.
As they reached the terrace Jen dashed ahead to the hall table, where lay the letters which had come by the second post.
“One for Jandy. One for me. Joan had hers this morning. Mine’s from Mother!”
She tore it open, skimmed through the first few lines, and gave a shout. “Father’s better, and Mother thinks they can go home in a few days. The rosary has brought me luck, after all! It’s the very news I’ve been hoping for!”
“I am so glad, Jen, dear!” Joan said heartily.
CHAPTER XXV
SUSIE SPINDLE IN TROUBLE
“I’m bothered about one thing, Joan and Jandy,” Jen said that evening, as they rested on the lawn after a hectic game of tennis, in which Janice had easily beaten the other two.
“Has the set been too much for you?” Joan looked at her anxiously. “I wasn’t sure if we should let you play.”
“Not the tennis. It was super! But isn’t Jandy Mac a smasher! I can’t play her balls at all.”
“Australian tennis,” Janice said solemnly.
“I can’t play them very well myself,” Joan admitted. “What’s the trouble, Jenny-Wren?”
“It’s moral,” Jen said seriously, pushing back the plaits from her hot face.
The elder two looked at her in amusement.
“Out with it, then!” Joan commanded. “We know your conscience is very active.”
“Jacky-boy says it’s terrific. Joan, ought we to keep that rosary? Shouldn’t it be Lavinia’s? The map was in her book.”
“What a conscience!” Janice teased. “Anyone can see the rosary belongs to the Abbey. It’s a relic of Ambrose.”
“But we only found it because of Vinny!”
“What use would the rosary be to Lavinia, Jen?”
“None at all, of course. But if it’s hers, Joan—oughtn’t we to do something about it?”
“Who said we wouldn’t do something about it?”
“Oh!” Jen’s face lit up. “What can we do? Shall we pay her fare to Canada?”
“I’d rather her father and brothers did that. Then we’d feel sure they wanted her.”
“I quite agree. It’s their job,” Janice assented.
Jen eyed Joan closely. “You’ve some other plan. What is it, Joan?”
“What about clothes? Lavinia ought to have an outfit, to start her on her new life, even if it’s just a few things—a new coat and cap for the voyage, a frock or two, and some undies.”
“Oh, yes!” Jen cried joyfully. “We’ll get them for her! We’ll do her shopping! It will be fun! Some red frocks and a red coat, Joan, and a woolly jumper—a bright yellow one! Won’t she be pleased?”
“She’ll be gay, if you dress her in red and yellow,” Janice remarked. “Canada will be able to see Lavinia coming. Don’t make her too gaudy! You may scare her folks.”
“You’ll let me help, won’t you, Joan?” Jen pleaded.
“If you’re here, of course I shall want your help,�
�� Joan assured her gravely. “But won’t you have gone home?”
Jen’s face fell. “I suppose I shall. I want to see Mother and Father terribly much, but I’d like to be here to help to dress Lavinia. Couldn’t we take her shopping before I go?”
“You can’t be in two places at once,” Janice said.
“I’m afraid we can’t, Jen, dear. We must wait till we hear she is to go to Montreal. Her people aren’t likely to think of sending a cable; it will take some time for a letter to come.”
“Couldn’t we cable to them, saying: ‘Matter urgent. Please cable reply’?”
“I suppose we could, but we won’t,” Joan said, laughing. “If they’re farm folk it might upset them dreadfully. I’ll tell you what we buy for Vinny, Jen. Joy will love to help.”
“I shall be jealous of Joy. Perhaps it will take them so long to write that I shall have come back for next term.”
“That’s much more likely than a cable,” Joan agreed. “We must tell Lavinia that we’ve found out what her map meant.”
“And show her the rosary. She won’t have an idea what it is,” Janice remarked.
“Shall we take it to King’s Bottom for her to see it?” Jen suggested. “Couldn’t we tell her to come here? We might lose it, or drop it, or something.”
“I can’t imagine any of us either losing or dropping it! But I’m sure Lavinia would like to come here. I’ll ask her to come.”
“We could go to-morrow and invite her. Oh no! I forgot. We’re taking Jandy Mac to lunch with the President to-morrow.”
“It’s jolly nice of Cicely to ask me,” Janice said.
“She remembers you from that fête last summer, when you were my maid-of-honour for one day. Lavinia could come to-morrow evening. I’ll send a note by Susie; she’ll like the walk.”
When the note was written and Susie was sent for, she did not seem overjoyed, however. She stood looking almost sulky and then burst out: “I don’t want to go.”
“Why, Susie, whatever is the matter?” Joan exclaimed. “I can send one of the boys, but I thought you’d like the walk.”
“That there Vinny Miles comes here too much,” Susie muttered.
Schoolgirl Jen at the Abbey Page 14