The Girls of St. Wode's Part 51

He is so sincere and so straightforward."

"May I go to bed?" said Annie suddenly. "I have a bad headache, and should like to lie down."

"Oh, poor child," said Mrs. Acheson, "I do hope you are not sickening for anything, dear. You have looked so ill since you have been with us.

Will you have some sal-volatile or eau-de-Cologne? What do you take when you have bad headaches?"

"Nothing," answered Annie. "I lie down and try to sleep."

She hurried from the room, scarcely waiting to bid either lady good-night. Mrs. Acheson and Belle sat up a little longer, then they also retired for the night.

Annie had lain down on her bed without undressing. It is true she pulled the counterpane over her in case Mrs. Acheson or Belle should come into the room; but sleep was far from her wakeful eyes.

By and by the house grew quiet. She heard the servants going up to their attics overhead; she heard Mrs. Acheson shut herself into her own room, and Belle shut herself into hers. Belle slept with her door locked, and Annie heard the key being turned. A few moments later profound silence fell upon the house; the lights were all out. One by one the inhabitants slept, all but Annie, who lay with every nerve tingling and her sense of waiting preternaturally acute.

While Rupert had been in the house she had followed all his movements with a terrible knowledge of him and his ways which gave her the clew to much that he was doing. When he laid his hand on the wooden box, Annie felt as if a burning-red hand had touched her own heart. When he stood by the window she could scarcely contain her uneasiness. When he spoke about burglars it seemed to her that the whole of what was immediately to follow was laid bare to her. Rupert was in desperate straits; he would stop at nothing to achieve his object. Was it possible that he, the man whom Annie loved, whose father had been good and respectable, whose mother had been one of the gentlest and sweetest of women, would stoop as low as this? Alas! Annie feared it. Now was her time for action. She slipped softly out of bed, unfastened her door without making any noise, and glided down through the silent house. Mrs. and Miss Acheson were both sound sleepers; the servants were far away. She reached the ground floor, turned the handle of the drawing-room door, found the door locked from the outside. Taking great care, she unlocked it, still without making any sound. Then, in her stockinged feet she crossed the room and took her place in shadow close to the window where Rupert had stood that evening.

The moon was still up, and its light fell across the room. The drawing-room had three large windows with Venetian blinds. It looked on to a fair-sized garden; the windows were not more than three feet from the ground. Annie now observed with increased apprehension that the blind to this window was up. She instantly remembered that it had got out of order that morning, and heard Mrs. Acheson say that she must send for a man to repair it. Rupert must have also noticed that fact as he stood with Belle close to the window.

Annie got still deeper into the shadow of the thick curtains, and waited. All too soon she heard just what she expected to hear-steps in the garden outside; the steps approached the window. The bright flood of moonlight was broken by a huge shadow; a man was standing on the window-sill. Annie did not stir. She heard the grating noise of a small diamond against the gla.s.s; a square was quickly cut out, a hand and arm intruded themselves, and the hasp, the construction of which had been explained to Rupert by Belle, was quickly unfastened. The next instant the window was lifted, and Rupert Colchester stepped into the room. He went at once to the table where the wooden box stood, laid his hand on it, and was about to turn back when Annie, making a sudden movement, confronted him, standing in the white light caused by the moon.

"You must put that box back, Rupert," said Annie; "if you don't I shall call out."

Her sudden and unlooked-for appearance and her brave words staggered the man. He was holding the box in his hand. He dropped it now in his agitation. Before he could stoop to pick it up, Annie had s.n.a.t.c.hed at it, flown across the room, and put it out into the hall. She then locked the drawing-room door, and slipped the key into her pocket.

"Now, Rupert," she said, coming back to him, "the window is open, and you can go. I know you won't injure me, for, after all, however wicked you are, I am your own sister, and the only person in all the world who loves you. You can go, Rupert; you can escape; the way is clear. But steal that box you don't; I would rather die than let you."

By this time the astonished and discomfited man had found his voice.

"I have not come here to be betrayed by you," he said. "I am desperate, so you had best leave me alone. Give me the key of the door this minute; if you don't I shall take it by force."

"Rupert, I hear someone stirring overhead: Mrs. Acheson has heard you already. Oh, go, for Heaven's sake."

"A nice position you'll be in," he said with a sneer.

The noise in the room above was more audible than ever. Someone was heard walking across it.

"You've done for me," he cried. "A nice sister you are! Yes, I suppose I had best hook it."

Steps were now heard coming downstairs. Rupert, scowling at Annie, made a rush to the window, put his foot over the ledge and disappeared. He had scarcely done so before Mrs. Acheson's voice was heard calling at the other side of the locked door.

"Is anybody in this room?" she cried. "Who has taken the key? What is wrong?"

Annie thought for a moment; she then walked straight to the door and flung it open.

"How you frightened me," said Mrs. Acheson, coming in. "My dear child, what is the matter? How terrible you look! What is wrong?"

"I have had a fright," replied Annie; "there has been an attempt at burglary." She shook all over. "Don't question me now, for I cannot bear it," she said. "It is safe-he has not taken it. Do you see the square cut out of that pane of gla.s.s? He came in that way; he was just about to take the box when I showed myself."

"The box, child? What box?"

"Belle's wooden box."

"What! that wooden box that Belle keeps full of coins?"

"Yes, the same. I saved it; it is in the hall. I-I feel a little faint."

"Poor child, no wonder! What a terrible scare you have had! Who would have supposed that burglars would come to us? Well, dear, if the box had been stolen, how disappointed they would have been to find only ordinary coins. But come upstairs, Annie; I must get you some sal-volatile at once."

Mrs. Acheson dragged Annie upstairs, then went to the servants, awoke them, and sent two of them off immediately to the nearest police-station. She questioned Annie still further with regard to the burglary; but could get little or nothing out of her, and concluded that she was stunned by the sudden shock. It was not until the widow had gone back to her room that she remembered how very strange it was that Annie should have locked the drawing-room door, how still stranger it was for Annie to be in the drawing-room at all. She was not naturally suspicious: but these circ.u.mstances did cause her a little serious thought.

When the morning dawned she went to her daughter's bedroom.

Belle had heard nothing of the adventures of the previous night, and was considerably annoyed when her mother rattled the handle of the locked door, and asked for admission. Belle opened the door, and then stood somewhat crossly waiting for Mrs. Acheson to speak.

"What is the matter?" she asked.

The widow related what had occurred; said that she had found Annie in the drawing-room with the door locked, and Belle's wooden box of coins at the other side.

"My coins! my treasures!" said Belle, color and animation rus.h.i.+ng into her face. "How brave of dear Annie: how splendid of her! I know why she did it; it is unnecessary to explain the matter to you just at present, mother. I can only say that the box was full of valuables, and dear, brave little Annie has rescued them. Oh, she and I must indeed be one after this, all during the remainder of our lives. How queer, mother; it was only last night Mr. Colchester said something about burglars. He seemed to think we were in danger with the drawing-room window so close to the ground and looking into the garden; but I explained to him the ingenious way in which the windows were fastened, and then he seemed to think we were absolutely safe. I must go at once now to dear Annie, and thank her."

"I wish you would, Belle; she was very sad last night, poor child. But, my dear, I never knew there were valuables in the box. You only spoke of coins."

"Coins of the realm," said Belle with a laugh; "very nearly one hundred pounds, money I have saved from my college expenses for a n.o.ble purpose.

Don't question me now, mother; I will tell you by and by."

Belle put on her dressing-gown and ran across the landing to Annie's door. She knocked; there was no answer. She turned the handle and entered, Annie's bed was empty-Annie herself had disappeared.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII

CONFESSION.

Yes, Annie Colchester had made up her mind. There was only one thing to be done; she must see Mr. Parker without a moment's delay, make full confession, and fling herself upon his mercy.

"Even prison would be better than this present agony," thought the poor girl. "Whatever happens, I cannot face the Achesons again without their knowing the truth."

With the first dawn she rose and dressed, and then wrote a little note to Mrs. Acheson.

"You will think badly of me, and no wonder," wrote Annie. "The man who tried to steal the wooden box last night was my brother Rupert. Yes, he was my brother. He cut the square of gla.s.s out of the window, and entered your house as a common burglar. Pray, don't do anything until you hear from me again. I am going to Mr. Parker."

Belle found this note, read its contents, flushed slowly all over, rubbed her forehead in a distracted way, and then, hiding the note in the pocket of her dressing-gown, returned to her own room.

"Poor Annie has gone out of her mind," she said to herself. "Mr.

Colchester, that charming, scholarly, delightful man enter the house in order to take my box of money-impossible! I should not believe it if a thousand Annie Colchesters swore to it. This note is my property, and I refuse to divulge its contents for the present."

Meanwhile Annie wandered about the streets until it was time for Mr.