CHAPTER VIII
PEER AND COMMONER
The lights flashed out. The ghostly wrappings fell from the figureswhich had been halted by the sudden apparition that had selected poorJohn Gilpin as its victim, though, in knocking him down it had knockedcommon sense back into his head. For as he lay sprawled on the floorthe thrusts of that demoniac head continued and now, instead offrightening, angered him. For there was something familiar in theaction of his assailant. Recovering his breath, he sat up and seizedthe horns that were prodding his Sunday suit, and yelled:
"Quit that, Baal, you old rascal! Dressin' up like the Old Boy, be ye?Well, you never could ha' picked out a closer fit! But I'll strip yebare--you cantankerous old goat, you Baal!"
Away flew the mask of the evil spirit which some ingenious hand hadfastened to the animal's head, and up rose such a shout of laughter asmade the great room ring. The recent "ghosts" swarmed about the pair,still in masks and costumes, and a lively chase of Baal followed.
The goat had broken away from the irate old man, as soon as might be,and John had risen stiffly to his feet. But his bashfulness was past.Also, his lameness was again forgotten, as one masquerader afteranother whirled about him, catching his coat skirts or his arm andlaughingly daring him:
"Guess who I am!"
He didn't even try, but entered into the fun with as great zest as anyyoungster present, and it must be admitted, making a greater noisethan any. Around and around the great hall sped the goat, somebodyhaving mischievously closed the doors to prevent its escape; andacross and about chased the merrymakers, tossing off their masks tosee and careless now who guessed their identity.
"Baal!" "Baal here!" "Who owns him? Where did he come from?" "Whatmakes him so slippery? I wonder if he's been greased!"
At last answered the farmer:
"I guess I could tell you who owns him, but I'd better not. I don'twant to get nobody into trouble, much as he deserves it."
"'He?' Is it a 'he' then and not one of the girls?" demanded Winifred.
But he did not inform her, merely asking when it would be time to bobfor apples.
"Because I know they're prime. They come out Dame's choisest bar'l.Grew on a tree she'll let nobody touch, not even me."
"Apples! Apples! My turn first!" cried Florita Sheraton, stooping herfat body above the "caldron" into which some of the fruit had beentossed. But she failed, of course, her frantic efforts to plant herwhite teeth in any one of the apples resulting only in the wetting ofher paper crown and ruff, as well as the ripping of her hastily made"robe." Then the others crowded around the great kettle, goodnaturedly pushing first comers aside while but a few succeeded inobtaining a prize. Old John was one of these; so gay and lively thatthe audience found him the most amusing feature of the entertainment.
Till finally Mrs. Locke gained courage to cross to his side andwhisper something in his ear; at which he looked, abashed and with afurtive glance in the direction of the Lady Principal, he murmured:
"Right you be. I 'low I've forgot myself and I'm afraid she'd blush tosee me so cuttin' up again. And too, I clean forgot that bag! I'llstep-an'-fetch it right away."
With his disappearance half the noise and nonsense ended, but morethan satisfaction greeted his return, with Jack, the boot-boy, inclose attendance. The latter bore in each hand a jug of freshly madesweet cider but his expression was not a happy one, and he kept awatchful eye upon the old man he followed. The latter carried twobaskets; one heavy with well cracked nuts, the other as light with itsheap of white popped corn. Bowing low to the Lady Principal heremarked:
"With your permission, Ma'am;" then set the articles down beside the"caldron," clapping his hands to attract the schoolgirls' attentionand bid them gather around his "treat" to enjoy it. Then, stumblingover a fallen mask, he sternly ordered Jack:
"Get to work and clear these things up, and don't you forget to saveBaal's, for, likely, 'twill be needed again."
At which the boot-boy's face turned crimson, though that might havecome from stooping.
Nobody waited a second invitation to enjoy the good things that John'sthoughtfulness had provided; but, sitting on the floor around hisbaskets, they made him act the host in dispensing fair portions toall, a maid having quickly brought plates, nutpicks and cups for theirservice.
After the feast followed games and dances galore, till the hour grewlate for schoolgirls, and the Bishop begged:
"Before we part, my children, please give us a little music. A songfrom the Minims, a bit from the Sevenths on the piano, and a violinmelody from our girl from the South. For it is she, really, who isresponsible for this delightful party. Now she has coaxed us intotrying it once, I propose that we make Hallowe'en an annual junketingaffair, and--All in favor of so doing say 'Aye.'"
After which the "Ayes" and hand claps were so deafening, that the goodman bowed his head as if before a storm. Then the room quieted and themusic followed; but when it came to Dorothy's turn she was nowhere tobe seen. Girlish cries for "Queenie!" "Miss Dixie!" "Dolly! DollyDoodles!" "Miss Calvert to the front!" failed to bring her.
"Gone to 'step-an'-fetch' her fiddle--or Mr. Gilpin's, maybe!"suggested Winifred, with a mischievous glance at the old man who saton the floor in the midst of the girls, gay now as any of them andstill urging them to take "just a han'ful more" of the nuts he hadbeen at such pains to crack for them.
But neither Dorothy nor "fiddle" appeared; and the festivities came toa close without her.
"Queer where Queenie went to!" said Florita, walking along the halltoward her dormitory, "and as queer, too, where that goat came from."
"Seemed to be an old acquaintance of the farmer's, didn't it? Hecalled it 'Baal,' as if that was its name; and wasn't it too funny forwords? to see him chasing after it, catching it and letting it slipaway so, till Jack caught it and led it away. From the way he acted Ibelieve _he_ was the one who owns it and rigged it up so," saidErnesta, beside her.
"Well, no matter. I'm so sleepy I can hardly keep my eyes open! Butwhat a glorious time we've had; and what a mess Assembly Hall is in."
"Who cares? We're had the fun and now Jack and the scullery boy willhave to put it in order for us. Matron'll see to that. Good night."
They parted, each entering her own cubicle and each wondering somewhatwhy Dorothy did not come to hers. Commonly she was the most prompt ofall in retiring and this was long past the usual hour. Could they haveseen her at that moment their surprise would have been even greater.
Long before, while the feast was at its height, the girl had quietlyslipped away.
Despite the fun she had so heartily enjoyed, thoughts of the visit toGwendolyn's sick room, which she had made just before it, kept cominginto her mind: and her thoughts running thus:
"Gwen was ill, she really was, although Lady Jane seemed to think heronly whimsical. She looked so unhappy and maybe partly because shecouldn't be in this first Hallowe'en party. It was too bad. I felt asif she must come and when I said so to Winnie she just laughed andanswered: 'Serves her right. Gwendolyn has always felt herself the topof the heap, that nothing could go on just right if she didn't bossthe job. Now she'll find out that a little "Commoner" like you can dowhat no "Peer" ever did. Don't go worrying over that girl, QueenBaltimore. A lesson or two like this will do her good. She'd be asnice as anybody if it wasn't for her wretched stuck-up-ness. MissMuriel says it's no harm to be proud if it's pride of the right sort.But pride of rank--Huh! How can anybody help where they're born or whotheir parents are? Don't you be silly, too, Dorothy Calvert, and pitysomebody who'd resent the pity. I never knew a girl like you. You makeme provoked. Never have a really, truly good time because you happento know of somebody else that isn't having it. I say again: If theHonorable Gwendolyn Borst-Kennard feels bad because she isn't in thisracket I'm downright glad of it. She has spoiled lots of good timesfor other girls and 'turn about's fair play.'"
"Now, Winnie dear, your 'bark is worse than your bite' if I can quotemaxims, too. In your heart, do
wn deep, you're just as sorry for poorGwen as I am. Only you won't admit it."
"Well, if you think so, all right. You're a stubborn little thing andonce you take a notion into your brain nobody can take it out. 'Whereare you going, my pretty maid? I'm going a studying, sir, she said;'"and tossing an airy kiss in Dorothy's direction, ran swiftly away.
Yet events proved that, as Winifred had argued, Dorothy's opinion didnot alter. Neither could she be sorry for anyone without trying tohelp them in some way.
The simple country treat of nuts, popped corn, and cider had provedenjoyable to other schoolmates--why shouldn't it to Gwendolyn? She'dtry it, anyway. So, unnoticed by those around her, Dolly heaped herown plate with the good things, placing a tumbler of cider in themiddle and hurried away, or rather glided away, so gently she moveduntil she reached the doorway. There she ran as swiftly down the longhall toward the west wing and Gwendolyn's room in it.
Tapping at the door Lady Jane soon opened it, but with finger on liprequesting silence. But she smiled as she recognized who stood thereand at the plate of goodies Dorothy had brought. Then she gently drewher in, nodding toward the cot where her daughter seemed asleep.
She was not, however, but had been lying still, thinking of manythings and among them her present visitor. She was not surprised tosee her and this time was not pained. It seemed to the imaginativeinvalid that her own thoughts had compelled Dorothy to come, inresponse to them.
"I'm awake, Mamma. You needn't keep so quiet."
"Are you, dearest? Well, that's good; for here has come our littlemaid with something tempting for your appetite. A share of theHallowe'en treat, is it, Dorothy?"
"Yes, Lady Jane, and it's something different from what we often have.The farmer, Mr. Gilpin, brought it for us girls and I couldn't bear--Imean I thought Gwendolyn should have--might like, her share, evenif--if _I_ brought it. I'm sorry the plate is a cracked one, but yousee there were so many needed and the maids brought what they couldfind handiest, I suppose. But--the glass of cider is all right. That'sfrom the regular table and--and it's really very sweet and nice."
Now that she had come poor Dorothy wished that she hadn't. Lady Janeseemed pleased enough and had promptly turned on a stronger lightwhich clearly showed the face of the girl on the bed. She could talkreadily enough to the mother but whenever she glanced toward Gwendolynher tongue faltered and hesitated woefully. It seemed as if the sickgirl's eyes were still hard and forbidding and their steady stare madeher uncomfortable. So she did not speak to the invalid and waspromptly retreating when Gwendolyn suddenly asked, yet with apparenteffort:
"Mamma, will you please go away for a few minutes? I've--I've got tospeak to Dorothy--alone."
"Why, certainly, dearest, if you think you're strong enough. Butwouldn't you better wait another day? Wouldn't I be able to talk foryou?"
"No, no. Oh! no, no. Nobody but I can--Please go--go quick!"
"'Stand not upon the order of your going but go at once!'" quoted LadyJane, jestingly.
But she failed to make her daughter smile and went away, warning:
"Don't talk of that accident again to-night, girls."
"That's exactly what I must talk about, Mamma, but you mustn't care."
Lady Jane's heart was anxious as she closed the door behind her andshe would have been amazed had she heard Gwendolyn's exclamation:
"I've been a wicked girl! Oh, Dorothy! I've been so mean to you! Andall the time you show me kindness. Are you trying to 'heap coals' onmy head?"
"'Heap coals?'" echoed Dolly, at first not comprehending; then shelaughed. "I couldn't do that. I have none to 'heap' and I'd be horridif I tried. What do you mean?"
"It began the night you came. I made up things about you in my mindand then told them to our 'set' for facts. I'd--I'd had trouble withthe 'set' because they would not remember about--about keepingourselves apart from those who hadn't titles. I felt we ought toremember; that if our England had made 'classes' we ought to help her,loyally. That was the first feeling, way down deep. Then--then I don'tget liked as I want to be, because I can't help knowing things aboutother girls and if they break the rules I felt I ought to tell theteachers. Somehow, even they don't like that; for the Lady Principalabout as plain as called me 'tale-bearer.' I hate--oh! I do hate totell you all this! But I can't help it. Something inside me makes me,but I'm so miserable!"
She looked the fact she stated and Dorothy's sympathy was won, so thatshe begged:
"Don't do it, then. Just get well and--and carry no more tales andyou'll be happy right away."
"It's easy to talk--for you, maybe. For me, I'd almost rather die thanown I've been at fault--if it wasn't for that horrid, sick sort offeeling inside me."
In spite of herself the listener laughed, for Gwendolyn had laid herhands upon her stomach as if locating the seat of her misery. Sheasked merrily:
"Is it there we keep our consciences? I never knew before and am gladto find out."
But Gwendolyn didn't laugh. She was an odd sort of girl, and alwaysdesperately earnest in whatever she undertook. She had made up hermind she must confess to the "Commoner" the things she had doneagainst her; she was sincerely sorry for them now, but she couldn'tmake that confession gracefully. She caught her breath as if before aplunge into cold water and then blurted out:
"I told 'our set' that you were Dawkins's niece! I said you were adisgrace to the school and one of us would have to leave it. But Mammawouldn't take _me_ and I couldn't make _you_ go. I got mad andjealous. Everybody liked you, except the girls I'd influenced. TheBishop petted you--he never notices me. Miss Tross-Kingdon treats youalmost as lovingly as she does Millikins-Pillikins. All the servantssmile on you and nobody is afraid of you as everybody is of me.Dawkins, and sometimes even Mamma, accuses me of a 'sharp tongue'that makes enemies. But, somehow, I can't help it. And the worstis--one can't get back the things one has said and done, no matter howshe tries. Then you went and saved my life!"
At this, the strange girl covered her face and began to cry, whileDorothy stared at her, too surprised to speak. Until the tears changedto sobs and Gwendolyn shook with the stress of her emotion. Then,fearing serious results, Dorothy forgot everything except that herewas someone in distress which she must soothe. Down on her knees shewent, flung her arms around the shaking shoulders, and pleaded:
"Well, you poor dear, can't you be glad of that? Even if you can neverlike me isn't it good to be alive? Aren't you grateful that somebodywho could swim, even poor I, was at the pool to help you out of itthat day? Forget it, do forget it, and get well and happy right away.I'll keep away from you as far as I can and you must forgive me forcoming here again just now."
"Forgive you? Forgive you! Oh! Dorothy Calvert, can you, will you everforgive me? After all my meanness to you, could you make yourself likeme just a little?"
Gwendolyn's own arms had now closed in eager entreaty about the girlshe had injured. Her pride was humbled at last and completely. Butthere was no need of further speech between them. They clung togetherin their suddenly awakened affection, at peace and so happy thatneither felt it possible they had ever been at odds.
When, at last, Dorothy drew back and rose, Gwen still clung to herhand, and penitently said:
"But that isn't all. There's a lot more to tell that, maybe, will makeyou despise me worse than ever. I've done--"
"No matter what, dearest. You've talked quite enough for to-night andDorothy should be in bed. Bid one another good night, my dears, andmeet again to-morrow;" interrupted Lady Jane, who had quietlyreturned.
So Dorothy departed, and with a happier heart than she had had sinceher coming to Oak Knowe; for now there was nobody there with whom shewas at discord.
But--was there not?
Gayly tripping down the long corridor, humming a merry air and hopingthat she hadn't yet broken the retiring-rule, she stopped short on theway. Something or somebody was far ahead of her, moving with utmostcaution against noise, yet himself, or itself, making a peculiarrat-a-tat-tat upon
the polished boards.
Instantly Dorothy hushed her light song and slackened her steps. Thepassage was dimly lighted for it was rarely used, leading as it did tothe distant servants' quarters and ending in a great drying-room abovethe laundry. Even this drying-room was almost given up to the storageof trunks and other things, the laundry itself being more convenientfor all its requirements.
Rumors came back to her of the burglaries which the kitchen-folk haddeclared had been frequent of late, none more serious than the loss ofa dinner provided and the strange rifling of safes and cupboard. Suchhad happened weeks before, then apparently ceased; but they had begunagain of late; with added rumors of strange noises heard at night, andin the quieter hours of the day.
The faculty had tried to keep these fresh rumors from the pupils'ears, but they had leaked out. Yet no real investigation had beenmade. It was a busy household, both above and below stairs; and as isusual, what is "everybody's business is nobody's" and things were leftto run their course.
But now, was the burglar real? And had Dorothy come suddenly upon histrack? If she only could find out!
Without fear of consequences to herself and forgetful of thatretiring-rule she tip-toed noiselessly in the wake of whatever was inadvance, and so came at last to the door of the drying-room. It stoodajar and whatever had preceded her passed beyond it as the girl cameto it.
She also entered, curiosity setting every nerve a-tingle, yet shestill unafraid. Stepping behind the open door she waited what next,and trying to accustom her eyes to the absolute darkness of the place.The long row of windows on the outer wall were covered by woodenshutters, as she had noticed from the ground, and with them closed theonly light which could enter came through a small scuttle, or skylightin the center of the ceiling.
From her retreat behind the door she listened breathlessly. Therat-a-tat-tat had died away in the distance, whither she now dared notfollow because of the darkness; and presently she heard a noise likethe slipping of boards in a cattle shed.
Then footsteps returning, swiftly and softly, as of one in bare orstockinged feet. There was a rush past her, the door to which sheclung was snatched from her and shut with a bang. This sound wentthrough her with a thrill, and vividly there arose the memory of anight long past when she had been imprisoned in an empty barn, by thewild freak of an old acquaintance of the mountain, and half-wittedPeter Piper for sole companion. Then swiftly she felt her way backalong the door till her hand was on its lock--which she could notmove. Here was a situation suitable, indeed, for any Hallowe'en!
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