by Jane Ashford
She came over to Joanna after the toasts were over. “Isn’t this splendid?” she said brightly. “I love champagne!” Her pale complexion was flushed, and her eyes glowed.
Joanna smiled at her.
Selina looked about the room, wide-eyed. “There she is,” she added. “Let us go and talk to her.”
“Who?”
“Her.” Selina tucked Joanna’s hand under her arm and started off across the room. “Must find out.”
Before Joanna could protest or stop her, Selina had walked directly up to Adrienne Finley, who was crossing the room opposite them.
“Good evening,” said Selina truculently.
Adrienne looked faintly surprised, and far from pleased, but she returned the greeting. Joanna, embarrassed, murmured something incoherent.
“How is your hermit?” asked Selina, in what Joanna felt to be an overloud voice.
Adrienne stiffened a bit, and the color in her cheeks deepened. All at once, Joanna felt sorry for her. Something in her eyes suggested that her arrogance and affectation had been shaken. “Oh, had you heard?” she replied lightly. “Yes, he has gone; he didn’t care for the job after all.”
“Really?” exclaimed Selina. But it was clear that she had heard this news before. “How unfortunate. Have you found another?”
Adrienne blinked. “No, I am not sure we shall…that is…” She stopped, at a loss for the first time since Joanna had met her.
“Shall what?” pressed Selina unmercifully.
Adrienne looked at the floor.
Joanna could bear it no longer; she said the first thing that came into her head. “I suppose it was the rain.”
The other two women turned to look at her.
“Perhaps he didn’t care to be outside in it. I do wish it would stop so that we might go on with our work. Has your brother told you about our digging at the Abbey, Mrs. Finley?”
Adrienne nodded warily.
“Of course, he thinks we are all a little mad on the subject, I believe, but he must find it interesting also, he comes so often. Where is he tonight?” As soon as she said this, Joanna wished she hadn’t. She did not care a fig where Sir Rollin was, and as an attempt to shift the conversation onto less uncomfortable topics, the remark was a mistake. Adrienne’s chin came up, and her jaw hardened.
“He is occupied with his own affairs this evening,” she answered coldly.
“Ah,” said Joanna helplessly.
“Really?” added Selina. She did not quite dare ask what these affairs might be, but her tone was clearly inquisitive.
“Yes,” answered Adrienne, losing her previous unease. “He may be leaving us soon, and there are things he must do first.”
“Leaving?” Selina, undeterred by the setdown in Adrienne’s tone, pressed on. “For Brighton, I suppose?”
Recovering some of her old manner, the older woman glared at her. “I really haven’t the faintest notion. My brother does not confide in me. He merely said he was leaving. And now if you will excuse me, I think my husband is signaling.” And she swept away before Selina could speak again.
Oblivious, Selina watched her go. “So the hermit did leave,” she murmured, “I knew it.”
Joanna turned on her. “Selina you were abominably rude to Mrs. Finley. And I think you have had too much champagne.”
Astonished, the other girl stared at her. “Rude? To her? But she is nothing…”
“She is our neighbor, and Peter’s wife. Your conduct was despicable!”
Selina’s face crumpled. “Oh, Joanna.”
Realizing uneasily that Selina was quite capable of breaking into sobs before everyone, Joanna began to apologize, but she had hardly said two words when she was cut off by a commotion outside the drawing-room door. And in the next minute, Frederick, more dirty and disheveled than she had ever seen him, hurtled through the archway and stood blinking in the light.
“Frederick!” she exclaimed. She saw her mother start toward him, and she too stepped forward.
But Frederick was scanning the crowd. In a moment, he found what he sought. “Mr. Erland,” he said “He shot Valiant. I saw him. He had a pistol under his cloak and he shot him through the head. I chased him, but he got away from me.”
Jonathan Erland came forward and put a hand around Frederick’s shoulders. “What is this? You are soaking wet.”
The boy brushed him off impatiently. “I know that, it’s raining. But we must go after him. He shot Valiant.”
“Yes, yes. But first you must take off these wet things.”
“He certainly must,” agreed Mrs. Rowntree, coming up to them. “Come Frederick, Mrs. Williston will have something you can change into.”
Frederick clenched his fists. “Will no one listen to me! We must go after him. He may be back at the Abbey even now.”
“Surely not, if you chased him away,” soothed Erland. “Go and change, and then we will talk.”
Protesting, Frederick was led away by his mother. Joanna came up to Erland anxiously. “Can it be true?” she asked him.
He shrugged. “Apparently. Things grow more serious.”
“But why should someone shoot the dog? To break into the house? If the treasure…”
Erland threw up his hands. “Deuce take the treasure. How could this stranger know where it is? My uncle was a senile old fool to leave his money so.”
There was a short silence, then Erland took a breath. “Pardon me. I should not have spoken so, but it puts me in a flame to see Frederick endangered over my uncle’s ridiculous treasure.”
Joanna nodded and put a hand on his arm. He looked down at her, and they stood so for a long moment. Then Frederick came back, in dry clothes and a filthy temper, and they turned their attention to him.
“I have half a mind not to tell you anything at all,” snapped Frederick when Erland and Joanna came up to him. “That blackguard has probably broken through by now and gone off with everything. Serve you right, too.”
Smiling a little, Erland said, “Softly.” He turned to the group of guests who had come up at Frederick’s arrival. “Would you excuse us? This appears to concern the Abbey alone.” After this, the others were forced to move off, though Jack Townsend looked very disappointed. Joanna stayed where she was. Let them try to fob her off!
But they made no such attempt. Erland led Frederick to a sofa by the wall, and the three of them sat down.
“Now,” said the man, “let us hear it all in order, and slowly.”
Frederick looked down. “Well, after everyone went off tonight, without me, I decided to go to the Abbey to work on…that is to check on things.” He looked at them defiantly, but Erland only smiled. “So, well, I was…” He paused.
“Perhaps you had gone in to check the cellars?” offered Erland blandly.
Frederick glared at him, then at Joanna, but he finally agreed. “Yes, well, I did. And I had come up for a moment to, ah, to get something, when I heard a shot, as plain as could be.”
Erland nodded. “And then?”
“Well, I ran out to see what was happening, of course. And…and it was then I found Valiant.” He swallowed again.
“You are a brave lad, Frederick,” said Erland, “but not perhaps an overly wise one.”
“Indeed, you might have been killed,” added Joanna.
“Pooh! I am not a poor dog, to be shot out of hand. He would not have dared!”
“That is probably true,” agreed the man. “Did you see him?”
Frederick nodded. “But not very clearly. He was at that spot in the ruins again, where you have been working. He had some sort of great hammer and was trying to break through. I shouted, and he ran off. But he may be back there by now.” The boy made as if to rise. “We have to stop him!”
“If that is what he is at,” said Erland, “there is no hurry. I h
ave labored over that pavement for days, Frederick. No one knows it better, and I tell you that no single man could break through it, not if he were Hercules. That is why I did not rush right out when you brought the news.”
“Oh.” Frederick thought about this. “Perhaps you’re right. But it still makes me mad as fire that he can roam about as he pleases. And Valiant!” Frederick paused again, his throat suddenly thick with tears that he strove to hide.
Erland gripped his shoulder. “A villain indeed. And we shall lay him by the heels, never fear.”
Joanna watched the two of them for a moment, feeling her own throat tighten.
“He made no attempt to get into the house?” asked Erland then.
The boy looked up at him. “No. He must believe the money is under the church.”
The other looked at him. “Do you think he is right?”
“I did not at first, but now…” He stopped, looking uncertain.
“Indeed.” Erland was thoughtful. Joanna gazed at first one then another.
“I knew he would come back,” blurted Frederick, “but no one would listen to me.”
“And you were right,” said Erland. “We were all fools.”
This drew a small smile from Frederick. “Well, I was. But I couldn’t catch him by myself.”
“No, we shall have to do that together.” Once again, Erland put an arm around Frederick’s shoulders. The boy looked up at him hopefully, and he smiled. Watching them, Joanna felt an intense wave of tenderness. They must find this treasure and make everything right. They must! They were both so…she found herself unable to finish this sentence, or to identify the strong feeling that possessed her at that moment. Just then, Erland looked up, and their eyes held.
“What is this—what is this?” exclaimed someone behind them. “Another vandal. Why was I not told immediately?” And Mr. Rowntree came bustling up to them, indignant at this new incursion upon the site. “Frederick, what happened? Clearly, now.”
The boy retold his story willingly.
“Disgraceful!” said Mr. Rowntree when he was done. “This sort of thing really cannot be tolerated. We cannot work with method if outsiders tamper with our materials. It must stop.” He subsided into grumbling, offering no suggestions as to how they could stop it.
After a moment, Erland began, “We might…”
But Rowntree interrupted, oblivious. “This settles it. We must get back to work tomorrow, rain or shine. A little damp will hurt none of us. And we must finish our current excavations.” With this, he got up and went over to speak to Gerald, without another glance at them.
“That does seem the best thing to do,” said Erland thoughtfully. “I can think of no better way of forestalling the thief.” He looked down. “But before that, you and I must have a very serious talk, Frederick.”
The boy looked up at him. “I didn’t want to,” he began.
“I know that, and I understand why. But now, things are a bit different.”
Frederick considered this. “I suppose they are. After what happened to Valiant.” He shivered.
“That, and other things.”
The boy frowned, then nodded. “Yes, you are right.”
“Come, I will take you home now, and we can talk on the way.” They rose.
“What about me?” asked Joanna. She wanted to hear this talk.
“I fear we must leave you to make our excuses to the Willistons. But I daresay, the party will be breaking up soon. If we are to dig and pry at stones in the rain tomorrow, everyone will want his rest.”
“Pooh,” put in Frederick. “It’s not as if it were cold.” And with this, they walked away.
Joanna stood watching them go, indignant at being left out of their plans. After all she had done, was she to be excluded at the end? It wasn’t fair!
Twenty-two
As if giving way before their determination, the rain trailed off during the early hours before dawn, and the following day was overcast but not wet. The Rowntree party arrived at the Abbey immediately after breakfast, finding Jonathan Erland awaiting them there.
“The young men from Oxford will be along in a bit,” he told them. “I sent a note round.”
Mr. Rowntree waved this aside. “We cannot wait. Come along, come along.”
The grounds were very muddy, and there was water standing here and there in the ruins, several patches near where they would work. The two younger men looked at them unenthusiastically.
“What did you do about Valiant?” Frederick asked Erland in a subdued voice.
“The stableboy wrapped him up well. I am waiting to ask Carstairs what he would like,” replied the man quietly.
Frederick nodded.
“Here we are,” said Mr. Rowntree. “To work.” He knelt beside the paving stone they had been loosening and began to tap at the mortar ineffectually. Gerald got a chisel and joined him, while Erland looked for a larger tool.
Joanna glanced about in hopes of finding a dry place to sit, but there was none. With a sigh, she spread her cloak on a wet rock and sank down there. She felt rather useless today. She could not dig, and there would be no sketching, at least not until the stone was raised. And she was also annoyed. Frederick was so smug after his “talk” with Jonathan Erland, that he would not tell her what they had said or decided or any more about the passageway he had discovered. Watching Erland and Gerald bend over the rock, she grimaced. It really did not seem fair that she should be excluded now.
As she morosely watched the men gouge out mortar, a movement off to the side caught her eye. Frederick was making his way off across the ruins, in the direction of the house. Hurriedly, Joanna got up to follow him.
“Frederick!” she called commandingly.
The boy started and turned as she came up with him. “What is it?”
“Where are you going?”
“I shall be back in a while. I must see about something.”
“In the house? What is it? Your passage?”
“Oh, Joanna, do let be. I’ll be back in…”
Joanna set her jaw. “I’m coming with you.”
“You can’t!”
“Oh, can’t I? Why not? There’s nothing for me to do here; I’m perfectly free to help you. Are you going to clear out the passage?”
Her brother glowered. “Never mind what I am going to do. I don’t want you.”
“Well, perhaps I shall go and tell the others all about it then. I’m sure Father would like to see what you have found.”
Frederick sighed. “Do just as you please. I don’t care. But Mr. Erland will be mad as fire if you spoil everything now.”
“Does he know where you are going?” asked the girl, dismayed.
“He knows all about it.”
As if to confirm this, Jonathan Erland called to her at that moment. “Miss Rowntree, could you help us for a moment?”
Slowly and reluctantly, she went to him. He wanted nothing more than that she hold one of their tools briefly, but when she turned back, Frederick was gone.
Frowning, Joanna looked back at Erland. He seemed oblivious, but she was certain he had intentionally kept her from Frederick to allow him to get away. So. They thought to leave her out of the most exciting part of the treasure hunt? Joanna’s chin came up. She would see about that!
The work that day was actually quite dull. Gerald and Erland chipped and chipped at the mortar around the paving block, occasionally aided by Mr. Rowntree. At about eleven, Carstairs and Templeton arrived, and there was a pause while Valiant was mourned and his final resting place decided. By then, it was time for luncheon, and since Mr. Rowntree resolutely refused to go home, Erland gave them cold meat and fruit in the Abbey dining room. There was barely enough for the seven of them, particularly with Frederick making his usual inroads on the meal.
They went back to the ruins
at two—all but Frederick, who managed to slip away in spite of Joanna’s watchfulness. The ground was beginning to dry a bit, and Carstairs joined the other two at the chiseling. Joanna began to hope that they really would finish that day. Indeed, by late afternoon, the mortar was out, and they all stood around looking at the great paving block, now denuded.
“It is large,” said Joanna doubtfully, and it was: at least six feet long and nearly three wide.
“It’s the depth that worries me,” said Erland. “It goes down eighteen inches, if not more. It must weigh hundreds of pounds.”
“How shall we raise it?” asked Templeton eagerly. “It is just like Stonehenge.”
Erland grimaced. “A rope, I suppose…and braces. We’d best go looking for some.”
“Let us search your cellars,” offered Joanna sweetly. “I’m certain I saw a great deal of lumber there.”
Erland glanced sharply at her, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I think the tool shed will do,” he replied. “It’s nearer.”
“I don’t mind walking to the house,” responded Joanna.
“Thank you, but there is no need.”
“Come along, then,” put in Mr. Rowntree. “Let us go to the tool shed and look.”
They all joined the hunt. What Erland called the tool shed was more like a small barn, and they picked through piles of trash and broken furniture, calling back and forth to one another as they came across likely pieces of wood or rope. It took nearly an hour to assemble the necessary equipment, and by then they were all covered with dust and heartily sick of the paving stone and all its history. All but Mr. Rowntree and Templeton, that is. They reveled in the castoffs and dust, standing back and directing the others in their search. And they urged them back into the field as soon as the things were bundled together.
When they emerged at half past four, Joanna was tired and longed for a good wash and a cup of tea, but she followed the others determinedly across the lawn. As they reached the pavement again, they were all surprised to see someone standing there. The man was bent over, examining their work, but he straightened quickly when he heard them approaching.